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zeltqz · 30 days

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call me or not, it's up to you.

☰ — synopsis : you come back home after a night out and see you accidentally posted your private stories public, and received a drunk lengthy voicemail from your ex, ran.

☰ — pairing : haitani ran x fem!reader ☰ — length : 2.4k words ☰ — contents : nsfw and 18+ contents, mentions of violence (sanzu being sanzu), slight phone sex; they don't directly communicate, ran being mildly toxic and messing with your emotions, teeny itsy bitsy drops of gaslighting ☰ — notes : i literally suck at writing toxic characters so im SORRY if this is literal ass, (im trying my hardestttt) i just had a dream about this and had to execute it as best as i could lol

It was a regular Thursday night when you stumbled into your date’s house, struggling to walk with half a heel working.

“Let’s get you out of these.” He knelt before you and helped you unbuckle your heels and you sighed in relief when he slipped them both off.

“Remind me to never wear heels again,” you giggled, clutching onto him. He leaned down and kissed you. You hummed, still feeling the buzz from the alcohol earlier and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing him back. “I had fun tonight.”

He cupped both your cheeks in his hands and peppering them with kisses, each of them making you giggle at the ticklish feeling. “Me too.” There was a final lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Let’s get you ready for bed, alright?” He traced your cheekbones with his finger, and you smiled up at him, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Okay.” He helped you up the stairs and you collapsed onto his bed, your dress riding up your thighs as you laid there, clutching at his soft sheets.

“I’m gonna shower first, alright babe?” He said in the process of removing his shirt. “Wanna join me?”

You shook your head, eyes threatening to close shut as you nuzzled his pillow. “I’m alright. You go first.”

He bit his lip, admiring you splayed out on the sheets for a moment, his mind racing with all the things he could do you tonight if you’d join him in the shower. But of course his fantasies only stay in his head since you’ve been rejecting every single one of his advances for the last three months. It’s always the same excuses : you’re not in the mood, or you’re too tired.

He sighed. “You sure babe?”

You’re half asleep at this point, just barely conscious as you murmur, “‘m sure.” His tongue poked his cheek and he nodded, saying nothing else and heading inside the bathroom.

You vaguely hear the shower turn on and about to enter a deep sleep when your phone buzzes.

@/shibayuzuha : oh my god who is this man u’re with on ur story? He is CUTE!!

@/hina_tachibana : was this supposed to be posted on your main? 😢

“What story?” you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. You click through your instagram story and rewatch the story you posted a few hours earlier when you were at the club. They were all videos of you and Masato dancing together, kissing, taking shots. Honestly you were buzzed the entire night and you thought you posted them on your private account, much less your close friends. “Oh fuck.”

You went to delete all the stories but the damage was already done, over 300 people already saw it. Oh well. That’s tomorrow’s problem.

You lay back down, eyelids blinking slowly as you fight back sleep and check your missed phone calls you accidentally ignored. That’s when you see it. A voicemail from Haitani Ran. Any ounce of sleep in your body vanished the moment you sat up quickly, rubbing your eyes checking if you saw correctly.

It was over five minutes long and part of you wanted to delete it, but at this moment, you couldn’t help but be curious. You pressed play and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hey. It’s me. Hope I’m not blocked or whatever, I know how petty you can get.” He chuckled to himself and the deep rumble of it took you back to all those months ago when you’d be laying beside him, head on his chest and just listen to the sound of his heartbeat as he spoke on the phone.

There was a deep inhale and the familiar crackle of him smoking that always used to relax you. “Saw your story by the way. Is that your new boy toy? Two of you look good together.” He exhaled and his voice was kinda slurred. “Kinda glad you moved on though. Thought you’d never get over me to be honest.”

“Oh fuck off,” you mumbled. He was still as full of himself as he was when you both ended things almost a year ago. If this was a regular phone call you would’ve hung up or told him he’s not that special, but you looked down and still saw another six minutes left. What the fuck else could he possibly have to say to you?

He chuckled again, and it was so obvious he was drunk now, which surprised you as he was a heavy weight and in your three years of dating you saw him get drunk only twice.

“You looked so fucking sexy in that dress, baby.” His groan had you squeezing your thighs together. “I can tell by the way he was holding you in those fucking videos he can’t handle you the way I can. He hasn’t fucked you yet, has he? Bet he’s real gentle and sweet with you not knowing you like it deep, and rough. Fuck, man.” He exhaled, rubbing his palm on his face. “Wanna know what I’d do if I was there with you baby?”

“...yes,” you whispered weakly to yourself. It was pointless; he couldn’t hear you and yet you were responding like he could. Blame it on the alcohol but there was nothing you wanted more than Ran right now.

“Bet you do. I’ll humour you though. I’ll take you to the dance floor and run my hands all over that body of yours, force that pretty head of yours back so I can mark all over your neck. Get you so hot and bothered till you’re begging me to fuck you. That happened one time didn’t it? Remember that one night in the club? I had my hands all over you and you dared me to flip your skirt up and fuck you right there. Man, you were such a tease, and a fucking sadist too. Remember when you said you wanted to watch some schmuck clean up my cum from the floor?”

You giggled and bit your lip, teasing your hands down your stomach. You remembered that night perfectly. Ran changed you when you were dating. You don’t even recognise yourself right now because everything just felt right when you were with him. Those years with him were the best of your life, you were young and figuring shit out. You’re still young and figuring shit out, but without him you’re taking a little longer to come to the conclusion of certain things.

Ran had his ups and downs. He was far from the perfect boyfriend, and he knew that. That’s why he was so surprised when you stayed for all those years despite his flaws. He was emotionally unavailable and never spoke about anything concerning him. He was sometimes rude and blunt when pissed off, and the arguments you both would get into would end up in the two of you ignoring each other for weeks. At first you’d be the one to break the silence and show up to his house and just hug him. He’d always smell like cigarettes and it should’ve disgusted you yet you couldn’t help but feel comfort. The smell was strong and yet it never bothered you when you smelt it on him. You’d apologise, crying in his arms as he embraced you back, rubbing up and down your back as you vented it all out in his chest, wetting his shirt with your tears. If he had people over he’d tell them to get the fuck out, hiding your face in his chest until the door closed.

That was the usual routine until the arguments got worst and your pride grew stronger and you’d refuse to talk to him until he broke it first. He didn’t believe you at first but after a month of no contact he finally broke it first. Since then, he was always the one apologising first, showing up to your house in the middle of the night at random hours to tell you he’s sorry and didn’t mean what he’d said.

The ups were better than the downs in the relationship. He’d teach you things, he always made you feel good, and simply being next to him was enough to make your entire week, even if it's for a few hours. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, like the most special girl to exist, and he helped boost your confidence by buying you nice things like clothes, accessories, lingerie, and tell you to look at yourself in the mirror and watch as he worships your body, taking his time to kiss his way down your stomach and thighs, and once he got to your pussy he swore he could eat you out for hours, just until your thighs were shaking around him.

The memory of his tongue between your legs had your back arching off the bed clutching the phone tighter to your ear as you squeezed a hand between your legs, playing with yourself as he talked you through it over the phone.

“Bet you’re touching yourself right now,” he exhaled shakily. “If you’re not, you better start. Want you to remember how well I fucked you every time. Can you do that for me baby?”

“Mmhmm.” Thankfully Masato takes decades in the shower so you didn’t have to worry about him walking in or hearing. Not like you would’ve cared honestly. He’s not Ran, and he won’t ever be.

“Miss you being my good girl. Fuck. He doesn’t deserve to have his hands all over you. Should send Sanzu over and fuck, get him to cut all his fucking fingers off for touching you like that. Man, I bet that idiot doesn’t know that I fucked you in that same dress you know? That’s what got me so damn bothered right now. Wearing the shit I bought you to go fuck around?”

“‘M sorry,” you whimper, parting your folds and slipping as many fingers as you could fit inside without hurting yourself. No matter whatever you shove inside there, it never feels as good as Ran’s fingers, or tongue, or cock. “Need you so bad Ran.”

“Man, wanna hear how you sound right now. Bet you sound so sweet, like usual. Could you do something for me?” You nodded and stopped your fingers movements, listening to his next words.

“Call me again. I miss you so much it’s crazy. Got so much to talk to you about. It’s been how long? Couple months since I last heard from you. And I know you don’t hate me. You never could. That’s something I love about you. Always there for me when I need you. We both took each other for granted, you know? Deny it all you want but you did. And that’s okay. But I wanted to let you know if you ever come back into my life, I’m not letting you go. For real, not making that mistake again. I dunno why I called you tonight honestly, just drank a lot and now I fucking miss you. Call me or not, it’s up to you.”

Then he said the words that made your heart nearly stop and freeze over in your chest. “I love you.”

Before you could even say it back the voicemail ended, leaving you conflicted.

#—tr </3 #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokrev x reader #tokrev #haitani ran smut #ran smut #ran haitani smut

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heavenlyhischier · 8 months

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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 - 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 7.6k (i got very carried away im sorry)

summary: after months of feeling like you've lost quinn, he ends up losing you. will the two of you find your back to each other?

warnings: angst, self-destructive tendancies, drinking, cursing, MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut, shower sex, fingering, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex (use protection guys), teeny bit of a praise kink, brief breath play, please let me know if you see any mistakes. i finished this at 2 am and my vision was a little blurry at that point

note: this is part of my follower celebration! i'm so glad i finally wrote about the future captian of the vancouver canucks please guys im begging you.

Two years ago, you had met Quinn Hughes through a mutual friend, and he’s been a part of your life ever since. In the beginning, the two of you took things slow, wanting to truly get to know each other before getting into a relationship. Quinn wanted to make sure that his intense schedule that involved him being gone for long periods of time wasn’t going to overwhelm you, or make you feel alone. You wanted to make sure that, after all you had gone through, Quinn was going to remain a man of his word and make your relationship work despite the many odds that came with his job. And he did, at first.

For the first year and a half that you were with Quinn, he was texting, calling, facetiming as often as he could when he was gone. If he wasn’t doing something that related to his commitment to the hockey team, he was talking to you in some way. He would send you pictures of the places he would visit with short captions of how he wished you were there with him, and you would always smile at them and tell him that you would be, one day. Though, a few months ago, those texts started to become less frequent, and when you did get them, they sounded forced, almost like they had been rehearsed.

For a while, you tried to reason with yourself. Telling yourself that he was just getting busier, and the stress was getting to him. You tried to understand just how demanding and exhausting his job must be, so you brushed off his deteriorating communication. Instead, you tried to hold onto the hope that when he was finally back home, things were going to go back to normal. Quinn was going to walk back through the door to your shared apartment and hold you until you fell asleep. Then, that stopped happening too.

The first time you realized that Quinn was truly pulling away from you was when he didn’t come straight home after a seven day roadie. He hadn’t even told you that he was close to home yet. You only found out because Natalie had posted a snapchat story of JT holding Owen, and you were immediately dialing your boyfriend's phone number. Your heart sank when it only rang three times before cutting to his bland voicemail message.

You remember spending the rest of that night crying into your pillow, thoughts of what you could have done to make him distance himself from you clouding your brain. You knew that hockey players had an abysmal reputation, but you have never lumped Quinn into that group of men. You’ve always thought the world of him, considering yourself lucky to have the luxury of being loved by him. This had you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. When he came home later that night, he gave you a half-assed apology and explanation followed by a string of kisses that had you melting back into him.

Though even that started to dwindle, and eventually it stopped all together. When Quinn was home in Vancouver, he rarely made the effort to spend time with you, and when he did, it was almost like he wasn’t there. His face would always be buried in his phone, or he’d be playing video games with his friends and you’d simply be sitting next to him on the couch. Quinn had stopped trying to plan dates, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone on one with him. You could barely remember the last time the two of you had shared a kiss that was more than the obligatory chaste peck on the lips before bed.

You tried to reassure yourself and ignore the aching in your chest, but the way he put as much distance as he possibly could between the two of you, the less you were able to do that. Eventually, you’d decided that enough was enough, and if it felt like you weren’t in a relationship, then you weren’t going to be in one. No matter how badly it hurt.

The thought of breaking up with Quinn made you feel like someone was holding your head under water. The panic settling into your chest as you realized that you couldn’t breathe; your lungs burning the longer you went without any air. No matter how hard you tried to break the surface and gasp for air, your head was only shoved deeper and deeper into the water until you realized that the only escape was leaving him. Leaving the man you were still in love with was the only way for you to be able to breathe again.

When he finally came home that night, he didn’t even notice you sitting at the table, his head shoved in his phone as he walked through the door. “Quinn,” Your quiet voice bounced off the walls of your home. His head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise that you were still awake at this hour, but you continued, “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” He drew out, brows knitting together in confusion as he slipped his phone into his pocket, “What’s this about?”

His eyes darted throughout the apartment, and you watched as his shoulders fell when he realized that stuff was missing from all over. Your stuff. With Quinn avoiding your home like it was, or rather you were, the plague, it gave you enough time to gather everything you’d brought over with you, and temporarily move it into a friend's apartment until you could find your own. Despite the multiple breaks you had to take because you kept breaking down, you managed to do it all in one day.

“I think you know what it’s about,” You chewed at your bottom lip, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from crying.

“Baby, I-,” He tried as he reached over the table to grab your hand, but you quickly cut him off. The chair scraped against the floor as you abruptly stood, shoving his outstretched hand away from you.

“Don’t call me that,” You spat, vision blurring from the tears, “You can’t call me that anymore.”

“What are you trying to say,” He asked, his voice breaking, and that made you angry.

How dare he act like he was hurt when all he’s been doing is hurting you? He put you in this position. He pushed you away, made you feel like he didn’t want you anymore. He did this, and he doesn’t get to act like he’s the one that’s hurting.

“I’m saying that we’re done, Quinn. I’m breaking up with you,” You asserted through the salty streams falling down your cheeks. Though the words tasted bitter as they came out, you felt a slight, very very slight, sense of relief wash over you as you said the words out loud.

Your words hung over his head as you fell into an uncomfortable silence, eyes staying trained on him as you waited for a response. He stood at the table with his palms pressed against the wood, head down as he let out a shaky breath followed by a weak question.

“What do you mean ‘Why’,” You scoffed, shooting daggers into the top of his head, “Quinn, you’ve barely said a full sentence to me in the last week. You don’t talk to me when you’re gone anymore. Hell, half the time I don’t even know you guys are back unless someone posts about it. I just- It just feels like you don’t want this anymore, and that’s okay, but what you’ve been doing isn’t.”

“No,” He breathed out, his voice small and broken as he shook his head, “No, it’s not and I’m sorry. I don’t- Fuck, Y/N, I don’t know what to say right now. I lo-“

“Please don’t,” You interrupted, tearing your gaze away from him as you choked on your own cries, “Please stop, Quinn. I can’t do it anymore. I love you so much, but it’s gotten to a point that the person I fell in love with is gone even though he’s right in front of me.”

A part of you did want him to beg you to stay, to beg you to give him another chance because he will change. He will change as long as it means he got to have you, and he couldn’t live without you. But the more logical part of you was holding the spear, and it was telling you that you were doing the best thing for you. That leaving Quinn, while it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, it was the right decision for you.

“I’ve already got all of my stuff moved out,” Your voice cut through the thick silence, “You’re not home much so it made it pretty easy.”

You couldn’t help but throw the jab in there, but it was only to cover the thinly veiled agony that was truly going on in your heart and bleeding into the rest of your body. You didn’t want Quinn to know that saying goodbye to him was like death by a thousand cuts, and so you masked the pain the only way you knew how. With anger.

“I wish you and your team the best in the rest of the season, I really do. But I think it would be better for both of us if we don’t talk after this.”

Not waiting for his response, you made a slight show to toss the key to what was now his apartment onto the table in front of him, the gentle ding of the metal hitting the wood echoing through the empty room, before walking out of the door. You’d barely made it into the elevator by the time your feelings washed over you an aggressive wave that came seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere all at once. You were thankful that the ride down to the bottom was quick and no one else joined you, and that the main lobby was only occupied by the security guard who’s more than likely seen his fair share of crying women.

That night, you went to your friend's apartment and broke down into a mess of screams, tears, and pain. She held you as you cried, held your hair as you threw up, held your hand through the shower curtain because you didn’t want to be alone. She stood by you in your most desperate time of need, and she made it her own personal goal to maim the hockey player should she ever see him again.

Quinn didn’t text or call you, but you knew that he wasn’t doing the greatest for the first few weeks after your breakup. Petey and Brock had both called to check on you once they had figured out what had their teammate in the state he was in. They asked how you were doing, and not-so-subtly mentioned that Quinn wasn’t any better off than you were. Though, they quickly learned to not mention him unless they wanted to listen to you call them obscene words before ending the call and ignoring them for a few days. You knew their intentions were good, but you didn’t want to hear about how “awful” Quinn was.

If he had acted like he cared about you half as much as his friends were telling you he did, maybe you would have made the effort to ask about him. If he loved you half as much as they said he did, but he didn’t. And he’s made that clear to you. Of course you know you told him that you thought it best if the two of you didn’t talk anymore, but you had secretly hoped he wouldn’t listen. That he would be calling you and texting you, begging you to come back. Telling you how in love he was with you, but it was complete and utter radio silence.

Eventually, you were able to pick yourself back up enough to find your own apartment. Leila had insisted that you staying with her was never going to be a problem, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. You needed to try and move on from him, even though you weren’t quite ready to let go of him yet. You needed to try and find yourself again, and you couldn’t do that sleeping in the guest bed of your best friend and her boyfriend's apartment.

Leila’s worried eyes were practically carved into your skull at this point, but you didn’t blame her. She’s had to pick you up, physically and emotionally, more times than she had anticipated when you initially turned up at her door with puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Though she should have realized how deeply hurt you were the fourth time she held you after you had woken up thinking that your breakup was a nightmare, only to realize that it was reality that haunted your dreams.

No matter how hard you tried to forget about Quinn Hughes, the city you lived in was as riddled with memories and reminders of what once was. He was on every street you walked, in every store window you passed by. He was everywhere, and it made you feel like there was a shard of glass piercing your heart, unrelenting and unmoving. You wanted nothing more than to forget about the man who had torn your heart in two, and you were willing to do anything to do that.

The bar air that clung to your body was sticky with alcohol and sweat, but you didn’t seem to mind as you moved your hips to the beat of whatever terrible remix they were playing. The unnamed man behind you had his hands planted firmly on your waist, but you didn’t pay him any mind as you let yourself dance. The alcohol swimming through your veins aiding your ability to forget about all of the hurt you had yet to heal from.

For the last three months, you often found yourself in some sort of bar or club to drink your pain away. It was cliche, but you hadn’t stumbled upon any other outlet that allowed you to forget about the constant ache in your chest. Leila had tried to guide you towards less self-destructive ways of healing, but you didn’t listen to her. This way was guaranteed to ease your heartbreak, at least for the night and that was all you needed.

“I’m Wren,” The man yelled into your ear, an off-putting smirk slapped on his less than desirable features.

Your mouth dropped open, the blood pounding in your ears covering the music entirely. It was too close. His name was too similar, and it made the one thing you were trying to forget flood itself into your head. Images of Quinn and memories of the way his voice sounded pushed their way to the forefront mind, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

Without another word, you pushed the man away from you and scrambled towards the exit of the bar. Your vision turned bleary and clouded, from the tears or the alcohol, you weren’t sure. Ignoring the worried calls from strangers you shoved past, you rushed out into the crisp Vancouver air.

You stumbled over into the mostly empty alleyway, clutching at your chest as your back came in contact with the brick wall. You were aware of the many lingering eyes on you, but the feeling that was consuming you made their attention appear miniscule and irrelevant. All you could think about was Quinn and how he never even fought to be with you. How he gave you up so easily.

Leila’s boyfriend had seen you run out of the bar, and immediately darted towards the bathroom so he could grab her. With the help of a few random women, he was able to get her attention much faster, and she was rushing out of the bar and leaving him to close their tab. Leila heard you before she saw you, and that alone made her chest burn for you.

“Honey,” She delicately approached you, her voice calm and collected, “What happened?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, but nothing was coming out but strangled breaths and mangled cries. Despite having seen you in this position more times than she could count, it broke Leila’s heart all the same. She maneuvered your body so that she could pull you into her lap, ignoring the fact that she was sitting on the ground in a dirty alley. She began rubbing soothing circles on your back and instructed you to try and follow her breathing pattern.

Once you were able to catch your breath, you let out an almost incoherent, “Why didn’t he come back?”

Leila was able to calm you down enough to get you back to your apartment nearly an hour later. She kept insisting that you just come home with her, but you already felt guilty enough for intruding so much on her personal life. You knew she didn’t mind, but you did, so you managed to convince her that you would be okay by yourself, and that you would call her if you needed her. Though, she wasn’t the person you ended up calling.

“You have reached the voicemail box of Quinn Hughes. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“I hate you, Quinn,” You started, your voice already raspy from the moments prior, “I hate you so much for making me believe that you ever loved me back the way that I loved you. I thought we were forever, you know. That’s what you told me. That we would get married and have our own family, but we saw how that turned out. It was never going to be me, was it?

“I just wished you would have had the balls to tell me that you fell out of love with me, if you ever did in the first place, or found someone else or whatever the fuck happened. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier knowing that I, or you, did something to make you not stop loving me. It’s just- The worst fucking part about all of this is, is that I’m still so in love with you that it physically hurts me to be without you, but that doesn’t matter does it?

“Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I guess I'm just trying to give myself closure so that I can really move on from you. I don’t know that I’ll ever stop loving you, but I’m going to try.”

Hanging up the phone, you threw it onto your couch and let out a gut wrenching sob that ripped through the stillness of your apartment. You fell to your knees and let everything you had been bottling up for the last three months bleed out of you. The world spun around you, your lungs burning as you gasped for air. Your fingers grasped at anything they could possibly wrap themselves around in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

You felt as if you were back to square one, and you hated that all it took was some man having a name that too closely resembled his. It was stupid, you thought, blatantly pathetic how easily you were thrown back into the fire you had done your best to crawl out of. You had almost healed all of the cuts Quinn’s treatment of you had left in your heart, but now they were gaping open once again.

Minutes passed by, or maybe hours you weren’t sure, and you had fallen into a limp ball on the floor of your living room. You had no energy to move from the spot as silent tears escaped their previous confinement. You stared lifelessly at the ceiling above you, mind too tired to fight off the dangerous thoughts floating about inside your head. It was only when sleep finally graced you that you were able to escape the pain of what-ifs.

The following morning, you were rudely awoken by someone aggressively and relentlessly knocking on your door. The sound ricocheted across the nearly empty walls of your apartment, and worsened the already excruciating pounding in your head. Pushing your tired body off the floor, you let out a quiet groan as nausea rippled from your core.

You passed by a mirror that Leila insisted you hang, and you outwardly cringed at your appearance. Your face swollen from last night's breakdown, and your makeup was smudged all across your face. Needless to say, your unwarranted guest was not going to get a presentable version of you.

Not bothering to check the peephole, you pulled the door open and time froze all around you. Quinn stood there with his hands in his pockets, head covered by the hood of his blue Canucks hoodie. His face was decorated with overgrown facial hair and deep set bags had found places underneath his eyes. Truly, he looked awful, but the sight of him in front of you made the already growing ball of nausea burst.

Quinn watched as your eyes simultaneously widened and hardened with an undetectable emotion, but he’s sure he could guess what it was. When he had woken up that morning, the last thing he’d expected to see was a missed call from you, let alone a voicemail. He’d listened to it a dozen times before calling Petey, asking him what he should do.

After a lecture that closely resembled the one he had already gotten from his teammate months prior that was followed by words of encouragement, he set off to your apartment. He only knew your address because Brock had accidentally let it slip when they passed by it one night. Truthfully, Quinn was expecting you to not answer the door or to slam it shut in his face when you saw him. That he was prepared for, but what he did not prepare himself for was you darting to the bathroom.

He stood in the hallway, conflicting emotions battling with each other as the sound of you retching reached his ears. He wanted to follow after you and comfort you like he’d done many times before, but he also didn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable than you undoubtedly were already. He opted to step inside and wait for you in the living room, preparing himself for whatever you were going to throw at him.

You were heaving into the toilet, panic running through every nerve in your body as you tried to focus on breathing rather than throwing up. The last person you had expected to show up at your door was here now, and you left him standing in the hallway. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you flushed the toilet, pushing yourself up off the floor for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.

Why was Quinn here? How was he here? You never gave him your address. Though a brief reminder that Brock knew where you lived was enough to answer that question for you, but nothing you could come up with answered why. You remember leaving him a voicemail in your drunken meltdown, but you couldn’t wrap your head around just what had gotten him to seek you out.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for far too long, and you wondered if Quinn was still here. You’d heard the door shut, but you couldn’t figure out if the footsteps that followed were inside your apartment or in the hallway. After quickly brushing your teeth and convincing yourself that he had left, you stepped back into the living room and were proven wrong. He had settled into the spot on the couch that he chose every time if he could; closest to the kitchen. His leg was anxiously bouncing up and down, and he was biting at his fingernails.

“What are you doing here,” You called out, nails digging into the palm of your hand as a way to keep yourself grounded.

The sound of your voice had Quinn’s head turning on a swivel before he was standing and taking a few steps towards you, but he stopped when you stepped backwards. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he was already treading through very dangerous waters by showing up at your apartment unannounced, and he didn’t want to do anything to further worsen that.

He instantly registered the tortured look in your eyes because it was the same one he’s been sporting since you left. Quinn knows he’s to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He should have fought harder. He should have fought, period, but he had his own reason for letting you go.

“You called me last night,” He started.

“I was drunk,” You firmly stated, heart beating loudly in your chest, “It didn’t mean anything.” You were lying, and he knew that, too. Quinn could always tell when you were lying.

“It meant something to me,” He rushed out, “Hearing your voice- Hearing you say that you thought I never loved you ripped me to pieces. I know I don’t deserve it, but can you please listen to my explanation? I know it won’t repair the damage I’ve done, but please. I was too scared before, but I’m not now.”

He rasped your name out like it was something sacred, like it held the entire world within its syllables. His eyes were glassy and filled with unshed tears as they bore into your own. He could tell that your heart and brain were at war with each other by the way you kept taking sharp breaths, and your eyes kept flitting away from him.

“I don’t know, Quinn. I’m trying to move on, and hearing you out will only undo all of the work I’ve put into doing that,” You tried, turning away from him but still staying in the living room.

“I know, baby,” The nickname tumbled out before he could stop it, sending a jab to your chest, “I know, but please. I will leave you alone after, if that’s what you really want. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You weighed your options in your head before letting out a hesitant, “Okay. I’ll listen, but if I want you to leave after, you’ll go?”

Your heart had won this battle, but you’re relying on your brain to save it later if need be. The sound of his approaching footsteps made the breath catch in your throat, but the feeling of his hand sliding into your own sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. Your head snapped to his own, your eyes full of anxiety and familiarity.

He gently pulled you over to the couch, dropping your hand so that you could sit as far away from as you wanted. The air was crawling with nerves from both parties, but the lack of anger radiating off of you brought him some sort of comfort as he gathered his thoughts. Though, in your defense, you could never be angry at Quinn, no matter how badly he hurt you.

“I know that no apology can fix the hurt I’ve caused you, but I am sorry. I am so sorry for pulling away from you instead of talking to you. I never fell out of love with you, ever. Not then, and not now. Do you want to know the best thing that’s ever happened to me? It isn't hockey. It isn’t money. It’s you, and that terrified me. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up.”

You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he cast you a stern glare and shook his head before continuing, “I never let that bother me until I overheard you talking to Leila about marriage and children, and I got scared. I started questioning if I was good enough for you. If I was even good for you. I’m gone so much with the team, and I’ve already missed so many of your accomplishments because I was on the road.

“I started thinking about us having kids. How many appointments would I miss? What if I missed the birth? What if I missed the baby’s first steps? I couldn’t imagine putting you through all of that by yourself, so I started pulling away. Was it a good idea? Absolutely not, but it made sense to me. I thought I was going to save you from heartbreak in the future, but all I did was cause it now instead.

“I didn’t call after you left because I thought I did the right thing. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but then I heard your voice this morning and I knew I had to fix it, if you’d let me. I couldn’t let you think that I never loved you, because I do. I love you so much, and I will do anything to prove that to you, should you give me the chance.”

You sat there in silence, digesting the words that had just been said to you as you let out quiet sobs. For nearly the last year, you had believed that Quinn didn’t love you, and now he was saying the exact opposite. He was begging for another chance, and that was what you had wanted, right? It still was, but the damage that was done wasn’t going to be easily fixable. You would have to start back at the beginning, and you’re not sure if Quinn was willing to do that.

“Baby,” He whispered, your silence lighting his skin on fire with nerves, “I don’t know what’s going through your head, but I want you to know that I meant what I said. I will do whatever it takes to fix this mess I created. Anything.”

The gears were turning in your head, trying to conjure any sort of coherent thought to tell him that you wanted this, but you were scared. You’d put so much faith and trust into Quinn, and he tore all of that down out of fear. What if he did that again?

“I want to,” You whispered, “I do, but what if you do it again? I can’t go through it all over, Quinn. I felt like I was going to die without you, and I can’t go through losing you all over again if you get scared.”

You felt his weight lift off the sofa, and before you realized what was going on, he was wedging himself in between your legs in front of you. He cupped both of your cheeks in his hands so you were looking at him, and you swear you blacked out for a second. Just because Quinn had hurt you, doesn’t mean the effect he had on you went away.

“You won’t lose me ever again, okay? My heart belongs to you. My heart beats for you. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, even if you don’t love me for the rest of yours.”

His hands were still on your cheeks as you gulped down the lump in your throat, his pleading eyes darting all across your face. Lucky for you, your heart and your brain had linked together as you let out an almost silent, “Kiss me, please.”

And he did. Quinn’s lips were on yours in an instant, hands dropping down so he could pull you into his chest. The kiss was full of desperation and months of lost time as the two of you clung to each other. He was holding your hips so tightly that you’re fairly certain they were going to bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were pulling him into you just as desperately, afraid that he was somehow going to disappear from right in front of you.

He briefly pulled away so that he could sit on the couch, pulling you into his lap not long after. He quickly reattached his lips to yours, and he kissed you with so much fervor that it had your head spinning. You could feel some of your sadness melting away, being replaced by passion and desire for the man underneath you. Almost as if a switch had flipped within you. You shifted your hips on his lap, and a throaty moan escaped his swollen lips as he slightly threw his head back.

“Be careful with that,” He let out a breathy laugh, “You know what that does to me.”

There was a teasing glint in your eye as you spoke, “I know.”

“Fuck me,” He groaned, subtly moving your hips against him.

“If you insist,” You drew out, leaning down to ghost your lips over his neck.

He threw his head back against the couch and screwed his eyes shut as your warm breath fanned across his neck. Your eyes flicked up to his face, and you couldn’t help but let a mischievous smirk form before dragging your tongue across the expanse of his neck. He let out a string of profanities as you latched your mouth onto the spot you knew would send him spiraling, but you quickly pulled away and hopped off of him.

“I need to take a shower,” You announced, a teasing tone to your voice, “I’m still gross from the bar.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped open, watching as you began to walk away. Only when he heard you ask if you were going to join did he jump off the couch and scramble after you. He shed his clothes as he followed you to the bathroom, leaving a trail of fabric in his wake. By the time he had reached your bathroom, you’d already turned the shower on and rid yourself of your own clothes.

“I do not deserve you,” He mumbled as his eyes raked over your naked body.

He’d already memorized every dip and curve of you, but he always treated it as if he was seeing all of you for the first time. Your body captivated him in all of the best ways, and it left Quinn breathless every time you graced him with it. He considered it a privilege to be able to bear witness to the Goddess of a woman in front of him, and he worshiped it like it was.

Despite all that has happened between the two of you, you still felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with Quinn. Unlike the guys who had seen you naked before, none of them treated it the way he did. He never made you feel insecure, and he always made every other part of you feel just as loved as your body. He admired your character, and even your flaws, all the same.

“You gonna stand there or are you going to join me,” You teased as you stepped into the shower.

The water enveloped you like a welcomed hug, and you let out a sigh of relief as the stickiness from last night was washed away. You were facing towards the shower, eyes closed and head tilted back. You heard the curtain rings slide against the rod before you felt Quinn’s chest pressed against your back. You wiggled against his hardened length, and he took your teasing as a green light.

His fingers trailed up along your hip, across your waist before dancing over your breast. He made a point to slightly lift his touch so he just barely grazed your nipple, and you let out a whine when he did. His hand briefly paused when he reached your collarbone as if he was going to change his mind, but he carefully wrapped his fingers around your neck and leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” He whispered before dipping his head down and attaching his lips to your neck.

While one hand tilted your neck to give him better access, his free hand trailed down your stomach and towards your center. The knot in your stomach grew the closer he got, but he was taking his time with you. Relishing in the moment he never thought he would have again.

“Quinn,” You whimpered, “Please.”

“Please what, baby? I need you to use your words for me,” He briefly broke his contact with your neck.

“I need you to touch me, please,” You were begging him, needing him to give you the release that no other man has before.

“Good girl.”

He slid one finger into you, an almost pornagraphic moan echoing off the tiles of your bathroom. You threw your head back against his shoulder, gripping at the slick shower wall for any sort of support before your knees buckled from under you. He carefully moved his digit inside of you, stretching your walls so he could add another.

“Jesus, baby. You’re so tight,” He groaned into your ear.

“‘S because no one’s touched me- Oh fuck,” You cried out as he inserted another finger, “No one’s touched me since the last time you did.”

Quinn knew he shouldn’t be as turned on by that as he was, but he couldn’t help it. Knowing that you didn’t let another man have you the way that he did only made him harder, and he didn’t think that was possible.

You were writhing against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, your moans filling his ears like they were his favorite song. He moved his thumb to press against your clit, and it was then that Quinn had to use his own strength to keep you standing. He worked his fingers against you, and he’s gotten you to the finish line enough times to know that you were already just about there, so he didn’t stop.

“Oh my god,” You cried out as his thumb rubbed circles and his fingers curled inside of you, “I’m almost the-Fuck.”

“I know, pretty girl. I know,” He murmured, keeping his pace steady.

Your legs are shaking and your vision becomes spotty as the knot inside you comes undone. He captures your lips with his own as you come all over his fingers, kissing you with the same amount of passion he’d had before everything happened. He was still supporting you with the hand that was previously on your neck, but you slowly regained the strength to support yourself as you came down from your high.

“You okay,” He asked, turning you around so that the water was no longer hitting your front.

“More than okay,” You gave him a sloppy smile, still slightly dazed from your orgasm.

“Good, because that was only the beginning,” He smirked, switching places with you so he could back you into the corner of your shower.

You watched as he turned and shifted the shower head so that it was spraying against the two of you as much. You pulled your brows together in confusion as you questioned him, “What about you?”

“What about me,” He feigned confusion as he slowly fell to his knees.

“You know what,” You quietly spoke, eyes wide in anticipation as his hands gripped your thighs.

“I’m getting all I need, baby. Don’t worry,” He glanced up at you, eyes sparkling with pleasure.

His fingers trailed against your thighs that were wet with a mix of water and your own juices. Goosebumps rose in wake of his touch, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. You kept glancing down at him with your lip pulled between your teeth, your heart still rapidly beating from your orgasm only minutes ago.

Quinn spread your legs with his hands before placing feathered kisses on the inside of your thighs, eliciting a few breathless moans from you. He stopped when he got against your aching core, his breath hitting it as he spared you one more glance.

With a swift movement, he was lifting your leg over his shoulder and then he was diving into you like it was his last meal. His facial hair was tickling your inner thighs, but all it did was add to the sensation flowing through your body. His hands were gripping at your legs to not only keep you steady, but to give him something to hold on to.

He was devouring you in a way that made it seem like he was enjoying it more than you were, but you highly doubted that to be true. His tongue worked against as he led you to yet another orgasm, mouth sucking and swirling in all of the right places. You tugged on his hair as you felt the familiar fire burning in your stomach, your head hitting against the tile wall.

Your second orgasm ripped through your body, rendering you temporarily blind yet again. He carefully placed your leg back beneath you, placing open mouth kisses against your stomach as he stood leaving behind a mixture of his saliva and your cum against your skin. He attacked your lips with his own in a dizzying kiss, his hands cupping and squeezing at your breasts.

“I’ve missed you so much,” He mumbled against your lips as he placed his forehead on yours.

“I missed you too. So much, Quinn,” Your eyes became misty with tears, but you tried to push them back.

“I’m not trying to ruin the moment or anything, but thank you for giving me a second chance. I definitely don’t deserve one, but I will keep my promise and do whatever it takes to win you back.”

You pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips before saying, “Well, you can start by properly fucking me.”

The softness in Quinn’s eyes darkened to something full of desire and lust, but he still managed to keep the look of pure admiration and love. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you into his chest and meeting your lips with a hungry kiss. You could feel him pressed against your thigh, and it made the already wet pool between your legs worsen.

“Need you to hold on to me baby. Wanna look at you,” He instructed as he pulled away, gesturing for you to wrap your arms around his neck, “Good girl.”

Quinn rubbed himself between your folds, teasing your entrance and watching your face twist in desire and want. Slowly, he pushed himself inside of you and let out a mangled moan as your walls clenched around him. He paused and let you readjust to his size, doing his best to remain still and not roughly jerk his hips back.

“Move,” You whimpered, bucking your hips forward for any sort of friction, “Please move.”

With your pleading, Quinn was pulling himself nearly all the way out and slamming back in at a pace he knew you both liked. His thrusts were hard and deep, filling you in just the right way to leave you gasping for more. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on his hips to allow himself a better angle, and you swear you blacked out for a second. You were grateful for the strength he has from hockey or you’re certain you’d both be on the floor by now.

Your loud moans mixed with his own, surely filling the entirety of your apartment with the sound. A part of you hoped your neighbors couldn't hear, but a bigger part of you didn’t care. You finally had him back, and the both of you were making up for lost time. His hips snapped against your own as he brought his free hand back up to your neck, squeezing at the sides with the pressure he knew wouldn't hurt you.

You were clenching around him, sending him into a fit of blinding, white hot ecstasy. No matter times Quinn had imagined you when he fucked his own hand, it was absolutely nothing compared the real thing. Watching as your eyes screwed shut and his name fell from your lips in desperate whines was a sight he would never get tired of.

“Oh my god, Quinn,” You shakily cried out, your eyes rolling backwards and the top of your head hitting against the shower wall as he thrusted into you, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Such a pretty girl,” He praised as his hand dove between your bodies, his fingers coming to rub at the bundle of nerves, “You look so pretty wrapped around me, you know that? Fuck, you feel so good.”

You were gripping at his back as he split you open, your vision coming in and out as he rubbed at your overstimulated clit and repeatedly slammed into you. Your name was tumbling from his lips in grunts, only tightening the coil in your stomach as his forehead dropped to your shoulder. You could feel the heat swirling inside you as he rammed himself into you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Quinn, I’m going to- I’m gonna,” You stuttered as he worked himself deeper, harder.

“I know, baby. Let go,” He whispered your name like it was holy and just, “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

His words sent you flying over the edge, your third orgasm of the night sending you into a fit of unmistakable pleasure. Waves of contractions washed over your body as Quinn fucked you through your orgasm, his own crashing over him not too far after. His thrusts became sloppy and slow as he came inside of you, his head burying itself into the crook of your neck as he let out stifled moans against the skin.

You’re not sure how long you clung to each other with him still inside you, sounds of your heavy breathing replacing the previous moans that were probably still echoing somewhere in your apartment. However, what felt like hours but was probably not even five minutes later, Quinn pulled himself out of you, guiding your still shaking leg back down and keeping your body upright.

“Time to get cleaned up, yeah,” He teased, his thumb and forefinger coming up to grab your chin.

“Good thing we’re already in the shower,” You bantered back, eyelids slowly drooping courteous of the man in front of you.

You lazily pulled Quinn back into your hold, meeting his lips for yet another searing kiss. Yet this time, there was no desperation. There was no hunger. There was only love, and hope. Hope that, despite the damage that has been caused, the two of you will return to the best version of yourselves and let yourselves be happy without worry or fear.

again, please let me know if you see any mistakes. and let me know what you think! xoxox

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes smut

838 notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 2 months

Note

EMMY MY DEAREST MY BABY MY BELOVED <333

could I be a bit greedy and make another teeny tiny request?? you don’t have to feel obligated to do it AT ALL if you don’t want to!!! I’ve just been having an interesting time lately and you do comfort so well ☹️

genuinely all I’ve wanted all week is to be babied a bit/taken care of/pampered/absolutely smothered with soft gentle affection by atsumu when he starts to notice I’m getting overwhelmed or burnt out :(

I think he’d be good at catching it before it gets too out of control and keeping me sane. he wouldn’t let me lift a finger and he’d be so over the top with his physical affection cuz he knows I love that 😕

I feel so bad bc I feel like I’ve been bugging you a lot lately so pls pls pls don’t feel like you have to!!! I completely understand, there’s no pressure 🫶🏻🫶🏻

anon <3

YOU HAVENT BUGGED ME IN LIKE. FOUR MONTHS HUSH YOUR CUTE FACE- EVEN IF YOU DID SEND ME ANYTHING RECENTLY, YOURE NOT A BOTHER AND I LOVE YOU 😠❤️

he catches it pretty much immediately, with how you were clinging to him a little bit more than usual last night, brows seemingly forever pinched in the middle of your head and your fingers fisting the collar of his night shirt. he didn't say anything, but he definitely makes a note to keep an eye on it.

especially when, the next morning, you turn to your side to let him get ready for practice, and you hike the blankets higher and screw your eyes shut to try and tune him out.

he sees this, and crawls his body back into bed, mind now only focusing on taking care of you before you drown.

"peepee-poopoo," he whispers, hanging his head upside down to look at you, his blonde hair hanging shaggily. "where's my fighty baby this morning, hmm?"

you shrug and avoid his eyes, and pulls his head back to take this more seriously, "c'mere. come talk to me."

"you have to go-"

"i don't have to do a thing," he assures. he's quick to take out his phone and text coach that he's not going to make it, but he doesn't tell you that because the last thing you need is worrying about him missing a day to care for you.

which is one of his favorite things to do- but you fight him on it constantly. and he hopes today you're compliant enough to let him be here for you.

"do you want to talk about it?" he asks, gently rubbing his knuckles over your shoulder, and when you shake your head, he leans over your body again to kiss your cheek. "okay," he whispers, lingering for a minute before pulling back to head to the kitchen to make you breakfast.

breakfast, that was supposed to be in bed, but you worked up the courage to wade into the kitchen not long after him. "hey-" you begin, but you're cut off by the yelp from his lips and the dropping of an egg square to the floor, which you both look at blankly.

he starts to snicker, "whups."

"sorry."

he clicks his tongue, "shut up- come get a kiss," he says, stepping over the egg and pulling you into a hug, and his shoulders relax when you loosen in his arms. he sponges kisses to the crown of your head, "don't ever be sorry for something i did. it wasnt your fault."

you immediately tense back up, and atsumu knows his hit the nail on the head with it, and you burrow your face deeper into his chest and he tightens his grip on you to keep you grounded. "go back to bed," he soothes. "im with you today-"

"i dont want to be so far from you," you say, and he smiles as you dont put up an argument, dont scold him for staying, but his heart sinks slightly at the idea that youre so in your head all you can think about is him right now. "not today. can i stay?"

"id be bummed if you didn't," he says. he smirks and scoops you in his massive arms, relishing in the giggles you let you as he carries you and sets you on the counter, where he then feeds you slices of fruit while your eggs sear on the oven. he feeds you breakfast bite for bite, placing a straw in some water for you to drink before carrying you to the bathroom, where he tells you to brush your teeth.

you get shy, "can... do you think... maybe-"

"yeah," he smiles. "open up, babe."

he brushes your teeth, sure to get all the areas the dentist warns him about, before pulling back with a happy sigh and holding out his hand.

you quirk a brow, "what?"

"spit it into my hand."

"ew!" you laugh, and god it truly is his favorite sound, and you turn your head to spit the froth in the sink. "youre nasty."

"and you picked me first. too late to question your choice."

"yet i do every day."

"little fucker," he snickers, and when he makes a move to tickle you, you dart away, laughter ringing in the air as he barrels down after you, down the hall and into the bedroom, where he tackles you onto the bed. "i made you breakfast and this is the thanks i get?" he sighs, playfully punching your tummy, successfully dodging your hands to try and still his barely touching fists.

"l-learn from osamu," you manage, and his jaw slacks at your audacity while you giggle more in anticipation.

"you're annoying," he snorts, leaning down to nibble your ear and neck while his fingers spider up your sides, you shriek and shove his shoulders weakly. he stops and kisses the rest of the giggles from your lips, and he hums when you wrap your arms around his neck. when he pulls away, you mewl and tug him closer. he shushes you easily, "not going anywhere babydoll, i promise."

and he doesn't. he doesn't go anywhere, merely rolling you both onto your sides where he cradles you close, cupping the back of your head protectively as you burrow into him.

every now and then, he feels your shoulders tense up and quiver, as if you're fighting tears, but he doesn't make you say anything. not until you're ready to.

and when you are, he's there, his thumb gently stroking the back of your head while your tears soak into his shirt. he shushes you softly when your cries turn to sobs, or your breathing picks up too much for his comfort.

he reminds you he's not going anywhere, ever, he's got your back no matter what, and if it takes one day or fifteen, he's more than happy to stay in that bed, brush your teeth, feed you food, anything to keep you from drowning in your own anxieties and thoughts.

"thank you for telling me," he whispers every now and again. "im so proud of you."

"im so tired, atsumu... i don't know what to do anymore."

he screws his eyes shut as your voice cracks, "you're doing great, angel. keep doing what you're doing, because its your best, and its more than enough. and i'm sorry the world hasn't let you think it has been.

"you're more than enough. please keep going for me, okay?"

"okay..."

"I love you."

"I love you too atsu..."

187 notes · View notes

esmedelacroix · 6 months

Text

Coffee Shop Love Pt.2

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, super fluffy, a teeny bit of Spanish, just pet names tbh, implied age gap

author's note: Hi lovies, this is the second part of this series. I'm really excited to continue this series. I hope you are enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it. Please comment if there is something you particularly liked, or if you have any constructive criticism for me. Enjoy...

word count: 1.3k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

It was another busy morning at the shop and you and your two employees were rushing around making coffees and serving guests that sat down for breakfast. Despite the Mug & Muffin being such a small shop, the morning rush was brutal. It wasn't your fault you were such a social butterfly and everyone in the neighborhood knew you. "Hey Baby, could I get an iced peppermint mocha-" Mr. Smith started before trailing off.

"With extra whipped cream to go?" you finished smiling as you already had his drink ready. You snuck a little sugar cookie and his bag and sent him off. Mr. Smith was your sweet old landlord. He had Alzheimer’s so you often helped him remember his coffee order, on top of when your rent was due.

Just after Mr. Smith had left you were writing inventory down when your thoughts were interrupted by a deep, rich voice. Smooth like honey he said, "Good Morning Baby, could I get a hot black coffee to-go?"

Your head shot up at the tall man towering over you. His broad shoulders almost completely shading you from the light outside.

"Miguel, good morning," you replied practically gawking at him.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" he asked starting to rub his mouth.

"No no, sorry I just—wasn't expecting you to call me that," you said as you began to take his order down.

"Well, that's what you asked me to call you, no?" he asked passively.

God this man is so sassy, where does he get the audacity? You thought to yourself as you quickly whipped up his brew.

You handed him his drink with a smile. To which he replied, "Thank you, Chula, Have a good day,"

Just like that, he left the shop to go to Alchemax, which was probably about five steps away for him; since his legs are miles long. While he left your legs feeling like jelly, you didn't know what that word meant but it was still hot when he said it.

So as you sat in the shop late at night bored out of your mind, asking yourself the question you asked yourself every day. Why am I still open? Who buys coffee at 8 pm? Your answer had walked right through the door. This time not getting caught in the mistletoe. "You really have to take that down. Do you know how tiring it is to duck into this store?" he joked as walked up to the counter after putting his work bag down.

"Take down the mistletoe? Never, it's a holiday decor necessity," you explained while already starting to make his order.

"What's the purpose of it anyway?" he asked trying to make his point.

"You seriously don't know what mistletoe is? Miguel, if a man and a woman stand under a mistletoe together, they have to kiss, it is the sweetest most romantic thing ever," you explained passionately.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he replied as he took his mug of black coffee and paid.

"How do you have such a shortage of Christmas spirit?" you asked him.

"Well, I've never really celebrated Christmas since I was like twelve years old, and I have no recollection of my life past 20," he explained.

"Ugh, you old fart, your no fun," you teased.

"I'm not that old," he rebutted.

"Really? Because you seem like you’re 35," you guessed.

"Well, I'm 37 but that's besides the point, Im pretty young," he said.

"No, young is me, I'm 30," you replied.

"Smartass," he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear as buried himself in his work like the night before. You continued cleaning up and packing up the extra baked goods for the day. There was one piece of coffee cake left, and you weren't going to eat it. "Miguel, would you like some coffee cake with your drink?" you asked hopefully.

"I thought I already told you, I don't like sweets," he said eyes still glued to his screen.

"Yeah, but you never know until you try, maybe you just haven't had the right one," you nagged. He sighed while taking off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Will you stop talking if I take it?" he teased while looking up at you trying not to smile. You rolled your eyes and brought a plate to him with a fork.

"Yes, this ones on the house," you said.

"Oh, I was never going to pay to have my tastebuds assaulted, don't worry," he joked.

"Just zip it and eat," you said trying not to give him the satisfaction of your laughter but then failing miserably.

You put on a Frank Sinatra vinyl on your record player to get into the holiday mood as you cleaned up the shop. Mopping the sticky matted black and white tiled floors. It was inevitable that something spilled during the morning and lunch rush.

You looked back at Miguel, and to your surprise, the plate of coffee cake was cleared. No crumbs were detected on the plate. His mug of coffee was always finished in record time, yet his head was resting on top of his laptop. He was completely knocked out sleeping like a baby. While his nose was continuously hitting the spacebar.

You took his plate and mug as quietly as you could. You also gently took his glasses off. You finished off everything you needed to and gave the extra boxes of baked goods to a volunteer who would take them to the homeless shelter for you. You even walked up to your apartment to shower and change into your Christmas pajamas.

You slipped on your reindeer slippers and walked down the stairs to the shop. Miguel was still slumped over his table. It was beyond the closing time you shook his shoulder trying to wake him up. His eyes slowly fluttered open. "Miguel, you gotta get up, it's way too late," you whispered softly. He brought his head up still taking in his surroundings and fully waking up. You helped him pack his stuff as he was registering where he was.

He had keyboard marks on the side of his cheek, making you chuckle to yourself as he was completely oblivious to the fact.

He didn't hide that he was so embarrassed that he had fallen asleep well. You found it kind of cute, he even blushed a bit. He thanked you and you handed him a hot chocolate with marshmallows to-go. "Before you say you don't like sweet things, just try it, you drink way too much caffeine, and it's very cold tonight," you said.

"Thank you, Baby, oh great, I can feel the sugar rushing through my bloodstream," he joked. You rolled your eyes at him and hit his arm playfully.

"Now I think I understand why people call you Baby, I mean look at this outfit," he teased motioning at your slippers.

"Get out of my shop," you exclaimed while giggling and pushing him out. You finally got Miguel out and watched him walk to his car. He suddenly turned around and said "Stay warm Baby, goodnight,"

"Goodnight Miguel," you called out to him waving before closing the shop door and locking up.

Just as you were about to walk up the stairs to your apartment, you noticed something strange on the counter. Yet another sticky note from Miguel, but this one had his phone number on it. You smiled down at the paper while doing a little happy dance and then collecting yourself. You little weirdo. You thought to yourself.

Next... Pt.3

taglist:

@br0-please @jewelz-teehe @iite-cool

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trannyctophiliac · 1 year

Text

you're a mean one, mr. grinch.

them being mean to you </3

{TW!!: all of them dom, exhibitionism, degration, overstimulation, a TEENY TINY bit of dacryphilia, throat-fucking, finger-fuck all CONSENSUAL}

characters: diluc, rosaria, and kaeya

diluc loves you. more than you will ever know. however, he loves you even more when his dick is lodged in the back of your throat while he's serving customers. what looks to be just master diluc on the job, giving out drinks, actually seems to be much dirty behind closed doors. when the final customers leave and bid him a goodbye, he can hardly say a farewell back until he's shoving his dick in the back of your throat. your tears only edge him further, his eyes rolling and his knuckles turn white from gripping the table as harshly as he did. although no one will ever know what happens after angels share closes for the night, it's better to keep the beautiful sight of your tear-stained face with cum running down your mouth to himself.

rosaria is, surprisingly, a woman of the church. as much as she couldn't care less for the ameno archon and his beliefs, she does love the events the nuns at the cathedral partake in during the holidays. especially she loves when she can finger you during the caroling at the church. she loves seeing your facade slowly break down from someone so pure and consecrated to someone so lewd and anathematized. trying to keep up the frontage of being calm was one thing, but singing as well? no no no, not singing won't do you good, she'll just finger you even fucking harder to show everyone how much of a slut you are for her. so do yourself a favor and wear something with a lot more... coverage.

kaeya is a cocky bastard. he holds himself in high regard but sometimes you wonder if that regard has limits. surely, it can't have limits? it doesn't seem like it when your being fucked on his oak wood desk while moaning out loud for anyone to hear if they tried hard enough. your legs shaked and spasmed after having the nth orgasm of the day, tears running down the stains your old tears made before. your expression looked blissful, as if you were given the biggest reward of your life. he presses light kisses to your back, pulling you back on his cock and having you supposedly, "warm it up" for him. regardless of how high kaeya thinks of himself, it must be pretty high to have you fully stripped of your clothing and cockwarm him in his unlocked office with all the pretty bruises and bites that cover your skin like a majestic masterpiece.

an: im sorry im a tad bit late, i got busy today

like and comment if you enjoyed

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stoned-eren · 8 months

Note

Can’t help but think about reader that isn’t interested in Obsessed Eren. She just… doesn’t like him like that, she doesn’t really like him that much as a person. She’s super nice but she doesn’t fuck with him. She also isn’t seeing anyone else and doesn’t plan on it because she’s ✨A holy starseed who is saving herself for her twin flame✨ and refuses to date some loser in college that won’t last a year. And she thinks of Eren in the same way, not only is he not her type physically, emotionally, or mentally. But he just seems lame to her. She’s to legit.

a/n: HELLO, hello! i am so sorry i've been so late with this, but i haven't forgotten you! in fact, i’ve been practicing my writing skills in anticipation for this ask hehe. :p i've been thinking about this since you've sent it, so much appreciated <3 you know i love me some obsessive eren. i hope u enjoy!

content: MDNI, obsessive themes, yandere behavior? (not really), gn! reader, college setting!, alcohol, angst, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, eren is a big softie in this one, mean reader? (kinda/not really) word count: 4.8k (IM SORRY)

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

maybe it was just his hair.

or maybe, it was his lazy, glazed appearance.

hell, maybe it was just everything about him.

his personality certainly wasn't obnoxious or anything. he was quiet, seemed to keep to himself, and didn’t really pester you all too much.

but there was something about him that you slightly disliked. you weren’t even sure what it was. maybe it was just the fact that you just couldn’t connect with him- not mentally, not emotionally, not spiritually. you didn’t see much in him.

your eyes flittered over to eren jeager, the man you were just criticizing in your head. he was sitting in his usual spot in the lecture hall, which happened to be right next to your usual spot. leaning over his side of the desk, strands of his messy brown hair slumped down, the rest tied up in a slackly bun. he was wearing a large, baggy hoodie, the same hoodie he always wore, even if it was scorching hot outside. in your eyes, he was just… average. nothing really stood out to you about him; it was if he was like any other guy in your class.

from the corner of his eye, eren noticed your eyes flicker onto his face, and he felt his skin crawl. he hitched his breath, just barely. were you staring at him? eren glanced up from his lecture notes, seemingly not even taking any notes to begin with; a messily drawn sketch of a large dinosaur scribbled on his paper. he tried to hide the drawing as he turned his head to look at you, wondering if you needed something from him.

really though, eren would use any excuse he could just to interact with you.

to put it frankly, eren was desperate for you. at first, eren treated you like he would any other classmate; he ignored you, seemingly too overwhelmed with his life to focus on anybody else. but as the months slipped by, the two of you growing accustomed to sitting next to each other in multiple classes, several days a week, he had gotten to know bits of you. and god, he just adored you.

you were so sweet to him.

eren didn’t know it, but you were sweet to everyone. you were just being polite, after all. even if you disliked eren, just a little bit, you had no reason to be rude to him. so, you smiled at him, giggled with him, and treated him like you would any other acquaintance.

but for eren- fuck, it was so frustrating.

eren was bordering on obsession. he knew that spending almost every day in your presence, you so very close to him, definitely didn’t help ease that compulsion. every time you sat next to him, he was be able to smell hints of you, see the glossiness of your lips, the softness in your eyes.

eren just didn’t know how you felt, though. in his mind, he wanted to convince himself that you liked him back, just too shy to admit it. and eren didn’t know how to admit it either. so, here you two were, in some sort of back-and-forth limbo that left eren pulling out his hair. he had to comfort himself every night while he laid in bed, reassuring himself that you must have some affection, any affection for him. after all, you were just so sweet to him.

eren tried to stop himself. he really did. as if like clockwork, he told himself that he’d be good- he’d be over you. every day, he told himself that. but whenever you’d walk into class, dropping your bag on the floor, and giving him a tired, shy smile- he couldn’t help but imagine waking up to that face; to see you in your unmatched, natural beauty. whenever he thought he could break away from your grasp, you pulled him back in, not even trying.

eren must have imagined you staring at him. when he turned his head to look at you, you were seemingly focused on your lecture notes, diligently scribbling down whatever the professor was saying.

you could feel eren staring at you as you took your notes. it irked you, just a little bit. why did he feel the need to stare at you all the time? you didn’t even understand why he came to class, asking you for homework or lecture notes almost daily. instead of focusing on his studies, he opted to spending his time drawing or going on his phone when he was in class. you glanced at the dinosaur drawing in his notebook. you felt your skin pricking up as his gaze never ceased, watching you from the corner of his eye. just barely.

the professor stopped his lecturing mid-sentence, casually checking his phone. he frowned upon the sight of what you assumed was a notification.

“sorry class,” he says, swiping his phone, walking over to his desk and gathering his supplies. “something just came up, lecture’s over.”

some students immediately get up upon hearing that class is cut short, quickly beelining it to the exit. you’re one of those students, hastily gathering your supplies and stuffing them into your bag, not even looking back at eren as you leave. today had been a particularly bad day for you; too many things going wrong all at once. you didn’t have much energy to deal with eren’s antics.

you confused him so much. you were so sweet and kind. but then there were times where you would treat him like this, not even saying goodbye to him, seemingly just wanting to get away from him. eren just didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand.

he felt a small twinge in his heart as he watched you walk out the door and into the corridor.

- - -

since lecture was cut short, you decided to spend your free time with one of your best friends, sasha. she was laying on a bean bag in your room, flipped upside down as she snacked on potato chips. you had to remind her not to lay like that, since she’s choked several times in the past laying in that exact position, on that exact bean bag.

while sasha’s munching on her chips, her eyes grow bright as she seems to come to a realization.

“oh! there’s a party tonight!” sasha swallowed, crumbs of fried potato falling down her lips as she flipped around, standing up quickly. “you gotta come, you just have to. it’s gonna be hugeeeee.”

you groan, just slightly. parties weren’t really your thing, especially huge ones. you always felt out of place. sasha knew that very well.

“cmon,” sasha whines. “you’re never out of class this early- it could be fun; you could meet somebody.” she says, her voice teasingly playful, raising her eyebrows at you.

“yeah, no, i’m not really into that, the ‘meeting’ someone thing,” you say, giving air quotes around the word ‘meeting’. you knew what sasha meant by that. you thought hard before you spoke. “but i’ll go. for you, sasha.” you clarify, poking your friend on her forehead. she snorts, delighted by your response.

before you know it, you’re at the party, coming up to the house of some stranger; a large, fancy mansion. it’s littered with people, some drunk, some sober, as crowds enter and exit the house. you try to adjust your outfit for some decency, sasha making you wear something you normally wouldn’t say yes to. you’re a little glad you agreed to wear this outfit though, as you soon realize that everyone around you is littered in slightly nicer clothes than you. sasha is grabbing you by your wrist, almost dragging you into the mansion.

you’re already uncomfortable. it’s absolutely packed in here. you could feel the heat from all the bodies in the room, some more sweaty than others as they danced to the blaring music that was playing.

you and sasha walked around for a bit, trying to find anyone you guys recognized. sasha found a group of her friends, people you didn’t really know, and began to socialize with them. you stood a little way away from sasha’s friend group, awkwardly listening to them share inside jokes and tell stories about one another.

after talking with her friends for quite some time, sasha made her way back to you, a couple of her friends still with her. while leaning against a wall, you were scrolling on your phone, nothing to do as you wished you were home right now. you looked up at sasha, seemingly relieved that she was back. but before you could say anything to her, she was already turned around, heading off in the other direction while her friends seemed to drag her away.

“sasha-!“ you have to yell to be heard over the noise.

“let me get us some drinks!” sasha called out to you, curtly turning her head around to look at you. her brunette hair was the only thing you saw as she disappeared into the crowd of people. great. she left, again.

you instinctively held onto yourself, seemingly recognizing no one at this party. as you waited for sasha, it felt like a few minutes passed by. then ten, then twenty. at this point your back was against a wall, just waiting for your friend to come back. eventually, you decided to just text her.

“dude, where are you? “ 8:15 PM

“SASHAAAAA” 8:18 PM

“omg” 8:26 PM

“how could you do this to me :’(“ 8:32 PM

you sighed, stuffing your phone back into your bag and waiting for your friend to respond. you eventually decided to seek out the booze yourself, going into the kitchen and pouring yourself a cup of fruity looking punch. after all, if you were going to be at a party, you might as well enjoy it, even if you were alone.

you made your way into the backyard, a huge, luscious space that stretched out to every corner of your peripheral. the backyard was much emptier than the inside of the mansion, small groups of people casually chatting instead of the crowds of people chaotically screaming and bumping into you inside. you sipped on your drink as you sat in one of the fancy, structured chairs in the corner of the backyard, hearing the muffled music play from inside the house. it reverberated the mansion. you let the cool night air hit your skin, just trying to feel any semblance of peace right now, being undeniably very stressed.

- - -

eren wasn’t one for parties. but this night was one of the biggest parties of the year, making it hard to pass up. he figured he could use the escape, doing anything he could to not think of you. eren was in the kitchen of the mansion, taking shots with his friends. he needed to forget you. what better way than to drink his worries away, he figured. just this once.

he took a shot, and another shot, and another shot with his friends, feeling his inhibitions slip away. as his inebriation started to settle in, his mind seemingly ended up wandering back to thoughts of you, a painstakingly common occurrence for him. he felt so lonely in this crowd of people. none of them were like you, none of them could ever be like you. you were so sweet, so gentle and kind to him. he felt his heart surge upon thinking of you; only you.

it was only you.

eren didn’t seem to notice whenever you would return from outside, clamoring your way back into the house for whatever reason. as if the timing was off, his back would be turned to you, busy talking with his friends every time you made your way back into the mansion, pouring yourself cup after cup of the punch. each time you got up to get more punch, you could feel yourself wobble more, struggle more.

the night began to get darker as you sat outside, finally coming to the conclusion that you weren’t getting a response from sasha. you had texted her a few more times, but whenever she got drunk, she seemed to forget that her phone existed. figuring she was with her group of friends, you stood up from the seat you had been cushioned in, ready to go home and prepare yourself for another weekend of studying. you stumbled slightly as you got up, not realizing that drinking four cups of that punch would get you this drunk.

everything was hard to see. you looked at your phone, the letters on your screen practically moving, making it hard to focus and type. you sent a quick text to sasha.

“in ggong jhome! :D” 9:36 PM

it was supposed to read, “i’m going home.” close enough, you figured.

you made your way back into the mansion, stumbling through crowds of people, using some random strangers as leverage so you wouldn’t fall. you finally got to the front door, which was cracked wide open, letting you slip out the mansion and into the night.

the walk wasn’t too far, so you figured you could make it on your own.

when you walked into the kitchen, drunkenly stumbling towards the exit, eren’s eyes glowed. you walked by eren, seemingly not even noticing him. it was too hard to pay attention to him though, there were crowds of people, and you were very, very drunk. but eren noticed you. he wondered how long you had been here, what you were even doing here to begin with. were you talking to anybody? flirting with them? the very idea made eren panic. if he knew that you’d be here, he would have spent more time looking for you. he couldn’t look away from you, his mind racing as he was enamored by your effortless charm.

eren noticed that you were wearing a rather cute outfit, one that accentuated the flawless features of your body. it was something he didn’t really see you in too often, if, at all. he also noticed the way you stumbled, losing your footing on seemingly nothing as you bumped into strangers, giggling apologizes at them. god, you looked drunk.

now on his 6th shot, eren couldn’t even think properly. he figured he could say hi to you- that wouldn’t be weird, right? even if it was just a three second conversation, it mattered to eren. every second, every moment with you counted. upon seeing you start to leave, eren made his way out the door, curtly saying goodbye to his friends, just trying to catch up with you. you were just a little faster than him though. as he finally made it to the front door of the mansion, he saw you disappear off into the night on foot, no friends around you.

wait- were you walking home by yourself? in your drunken state?

no- eren wouldn’t let you. who knows what could happen to you? eren wouldn’t take that risk, not even slightly. you needed him right now. briskly, he began to walk in the direction he saw you last. he was rather drunk himself, so he struggled to walk as he attempted to catch up with you, not even seeing where he was stepping. but his strides were long, his footsteps fast; so, he caught up to you in a short amount of time.

you were walking down an isolated street; you hadn’t seen a single car come by so far. the road was long, stretching out farther than you could see, but it led directly to your college. you now realized that the walk was going to be more time consuming than you expected. as you looked up into the sky, there were large, cheap street lights towering above you, lined up haphazardly along the sidewalk. you were trying your best to walk in a straight line, just in case a car did come by- you had to appear as sober as you could. but you couldn’t, you couldn’t walk normally at all.

your ears perked up at the sound of your name being called. your head spun around as you turned to find the source of the noise. the world was spinning, so you couldn’t really see who it was from afar. you should have been more alarmed, but in your drunken state, all you did was watch as the figure approached you, body tensed up. eventually, your eyes relaxed slightly when you realized who it was, eren lightly jogging up to you, trying to catch up to you. you didn’t recognize him without his hoodie and sweats on, wearing a nice flannel and jeans instead. as he walked up to you, the golden light from the street lamp highlighted his features.

“hey. i saw you at the party- you’re walking home by yourself this late at night?” eren said to you, his voice full of concern and dripping with intoxication. he breathed softly, as if he was out of breath. you paid him no mind.

“yes, i am. my house is like, right here, so…” you trailed off, slurring your words.

you were obviously lying. there was nothing around you and eren but roads and a sidewalk, no homes anywhere near the path you were taking. were you sure you were going the right way?

you fully expected eren to part ways with you now, not knowing what he could possibly need from you. you turned back around, and continued to march home, almost tripping over your own feet.

“wait-“ eren stammered, his pace picking up with yours. “are you sure that’s safe?”

you glanced at him silently, but kept walking.

he followed you, continuing. “it’s just- well, there’s a lot of petty crime around here, you should be careful. i-if you want, maybe i can-”

why was he doubting you? did he think you weren’t able to make it home? in your drunken state, you let out some of your annoyance with him, some of the bottled-up feelings you had for him spilling out.

“eren-“ you breath, cutting the boy off and stopping in your tracks. “i’m fine- you really think i can’t walk home?”

“it’s not that, i just- i don’t think you should be alone right now,“ he began, stammering as he spoke.

you huff, clearly exasperated. “and why’s that? i can take care of myself.”

eren’s eyes widened. he felt himself panic, just slightly, unable to understand why it was a bad thing for him to take care of you. “i… well i just…” he murmured, quieting his voice as he seemed to be unable to speak.

you were getting annoyed.

“you just what?” you finally snap, “how did you even know i was walking? were you following me?” you say in an accusatory tone.

eren feels his anxiety surge. what were you insinuating about him? did you really think he was a bad guy? but… would it be bad if he did follow you?

he goes quiet, knowing that anything he says won’t satisfy you. you keep going.

“it’s creepy,” you say, your eyes shooting daggers at him. eren feels his heart drop upon hearing you say those words. it echoes in his brain.

him, creepy?

“i… i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to bother you.” eren said, his eyes darting away from you. he wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong, but he was irritating you, he was scaring you. and he didn’t like it. the two of you stood on the sidewalk, the buzz of the street light filling the harsh silence in the air as it illuminated above you. eren’s expression saddened, like a hurt puppy, as he stared at the floor, not able to meet your gaze.

you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in your heart, regretting snapping at the man. after all, was he really doing anything wrong? you quickly realized you were just letting out pent up frustrations at him. you knew eren, you knew him well. and you knew he wasn’t like that. you bit your lip, thinking of a way you could fix this.

“n-no, wait. eren, i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice genuine and remorseful. eren looks up at you, his expression so saddened, so lonely, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him, pitying him. “that wasn’t right of me to say.”

“oh. it’s okay,” eren says. he gives you a weak smile, one mixed with hurt and anguish.

you look at him for a second, the dim yellow light from the street lamp mixing with eren’s eyes. he looked so tired, you noted. you could see the melancholy on his face as he looked into your eyes, searching for something. unsure of what he could want, you slowly turned around, continuing your walk down the road.

eren followed you, his steps a few feet away from yours. whenever you wondered if he left, you could hear his shoes clack against the sidewalk, indicating that he was still following you. you decided not to say anything, not wanting to hurt him for inconceivably no reason again.

eren was lost in thought. you had never gotten that mad at him before, let alone said anything so harsh to him before. what did he do? was it wrong to want to protect you? didn’t you want him to protect you?

he just wanted you to be alright. he would never forgive himself if he knew something happened to you, knowing he could have prevented it. he swallowed his thoughts, his intoxication still very apparent in his body.

he walked, you not once looking back to see if he was still there, still tripping on your own feet. without realizing it, his ideal world of you started to crumble. there were cracks in the foundation; seeds of uncertainty planted inside of eren’s head.

you were doing it again, treating him as if he was a pesky little bug that wouldn’t leave you alone. a wave of sorrow hit him, his life feeling aimless at the mere thought of you not interested in him, or even worse, hating him. what would he do at that point? what if that came true?

eren was getting so, so tired. he just wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he needed you in his life. he felt incomplete without you, as if he was a puzzle missing a piece. there was an emptiness in his heart, one that he knew could be so lovingly and tenderly mended by you.

he needed to tell you. he needed to do it, he had to do it, before these feelings consumed his very essence.

neither one of you spoke to each other as you made the long journey home, both of you seemingly lost in thought. you stopped when you got the complex of your dormitories, deep into the late hours of the night. your feet were sore, walking for what seemed like miles. you turned to eren, not wanting him to go any further.

“see? told you i’d make it here no problem,” you voice slightly slurs as you tell eren, as if trying to prove something to him. you sobered up from your walk, just barely. you could walk in a somewhat straight line now, at least.

he gave you a small smile. he seemed so distracted. as you said goodnight to him, turning around to disappear into the night, eren wrapped his fingers around your arm, gently stopping you in your tracks.

“wait…” eren said, the sadness leaving his face; a soft expression replacing his pain. he focused his eyes on you, his blue-green irises shining bright. “i’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

curiously, you looked at him as he let go of your arm. you stared at him with beautiful eyes as eren hesitated, unsure of how he could phrase his next sentence.

he just went for it.

he breathed. “i like you. like, a lot.”

you just stared at him.

why didn’t you say anything?

he stammered his next sentence, unable to read any indication of feeling in your face as you blankly gazed at him. “i was wondering if you would want to go out sometime-“

“oh eren, i’m sorry. i can’t.” you flatly reply, making eren’s heart twinge.

he felt like his world was falling apart as you turned him down, casting him aside like he was just some inconvenience in your life. you could see just how utterly crushed he was, biting his lip harshly, as if punishing himself for even trying to ask you out. his eyes darkened, the brightness fading from them as he stood there, frozen in place, his heart pounding as you rejected him.

you felt yourself having to explain, trying to let him down softly. “i just- i’m saving myself for the right person. i don’t want a relationship that’s not going to last-“

“we could last,” he commented, as he looked at you with pure pain. “i know we could.” his voice was barely a whisper.

“e-eren, i…” you stammer, a little flustered.

eren says your name, looking into your eyes as if he’s pleading with you, so desperately wanting a chance with you.

“i’d give you everything. you’d be my everything…” eren said, trying to soothe himself with his words. “so please…”

“i’m sorry eren, i just… i just can’t.” you tell him.

“oh…” he trails off.

“…i’ll be waiting, for as long as it takes.” eren said. he paused before he spoke again. “forever, if i need to…”

you would never admit it, not even to yourself, but a tiny blush spread across your face from his words. he was undoubtedly, a little sweet. even though you disliked him, just a little.

eren sadly said goodbye to you, fully intending on skipping class on monday so he didn’t have to go through the shame and embarrassment of seeing you. eren stood there as you left. you walked deeper into the dormitory complexes, finally getting back home after a long day.

eren watched you as you walked away, the tip of your head disappearing down the hill into the complexes. he walked back out the complex, his heart pounding, trying to calm his thoughts.

he did it- he finally confessed- but you didn’t.

he sat on the closest planter he could find, balling his fists into his head, a migraine coming on. he covered his face as small tears formed in his eyes. he wondered what was wrong with him. was it his personality- his appearance? what were you looking for? he could be anything, if it meant you were there with him. eren’s thoughts stilled, his eyes wet with tears as he slid his hands down his face.

he’d wait forever, if he had to. he told you that, and he meant it. for there was no one eren would ever love besides you.

but maybe now was not the time.

nor would it ever be.

maybe he was just meant to love you. maybe you weren’t meant to love him.

you shut your bedroom, kneeling against the door, thinking deeply. your thoughts traveled to eren, your mind unable to not think about him. you realized just how nervous you were now, your palms sweaty and your legs shaking. as you replayed his confession in your brain, you noted how soft his eyes looked when he gazed upon you. his words just seemed so genuine, so truthful; his voice wavering as he silently begged you for just a moment, a chance with you.

you thought of eren as you laid in bed, seemingly sleeping for a few hours, arriving home far too late. you thought of eren as you studied through the weekend, your notes not even making sense to you as you were so distracted. you thought of eren as you walked into your lecture hall days later, a small skip of your heart as you noticed that eren wasn’t here today. you thought of eren as you went home, walking as you imagined him behind you, his footsteps just barely out of sync with yours; reminding you of the day he confessed. you thought of him as you cooked and cleaned. you thought of him the next day, and the day after that.

eren seemingly stopped showing up to class, the last time you saw him was over two weeks ago. you heard from your mutual friends that eren dropped out of his classes. you couldn’t help but think about him, your mind always going back to his confession. what if you had said yes?

you couldn’t help but wonder.

there was a small stab of guilt in your heart every time someone mentioned eren. you felt a little more aimless each day you went into lectures, knowing he wouldn’t be there. you started to sketch small drawings of dinosaurs in your notebook, a little reminder of him.

you didn’t like him, though.

…right?

67 notes · View notes

throwaway-yandere · 2 years

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His Adorable Pen Pal (Yandere!Thoma/Reader)

a/n: thoma is my 16th max friendship lvl character and i really like his vibes. personally, yan!thoma is hard to pull off. Thoma's such a green flag, if this was an otome isekai he'd definitely be the 2nd male lead LMAO– ((and yee, there are some very smol references from past works, they're not important theyre just iykyk moments)). this took longer cause i wrote diluc's part at the same time to try to get the story feel more connected. also, @kardi76 im so sorry please tell me you slept ;;-;; cause there is no closure (lololol).

gn!reader

a pretty reliable synopsis: thoma would do anything to meet you... (so please don't screw it up).

Cw: yandere!thoma. (Thoma is not self-aware that he's yan and thats the best part--) Implied yan!childe and diluc (soldier & king)

Parts:

Soldier, Poet (You are here), King

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

If you asked (Y/n) (L/n) who "Fixer" was, they would tell you that he's one of the few people who could understand them deeply.

If you asked (Y/n) (L/n) who Thoma was, well, the best response someone could get from them is "Hmm... I guess the name sounds familiar," followed by "ah, so that's who he is. Okay then."

The two of you have been penpals for almost five years, but neither of you revealed your real names. You addressed him as "Fixer" (a pen name Kamisato Ayato had relentlessly recommended), and he responded to your calls as "Levi" (short for the infamous Lunar Leviathan sea legend). This is not due to the lack of courage or trust, but because you mutually agreed that it would add more mystery and thrill to your inevitable first meeting.

But one of you lied.

Thoma knew exactly what your name was. He knew your height, eye color, family, and a number of other personal facts that a regular housekeeper would not have had the opportunity to learn so readily. Earning your private information was his quota with Lord Kamisato for helping him "burn a few stray leaves", but the given information wasn't the most important findings of their investigation, no.

It was the revelation that (Y/n) (L/n), rather, YOU were his first love.

Thoma would happily take up any attractive label that fit his romanticized viewpoint, be it infatuation or puppy love. You were the kid he frequently spent time with within the Mondstadt public library. Granted, you both often took seats two chairs apart from one another, but the sticky notes passed along the table did not make the distance feel too far. You were each other's confidants. You both didn't belong anywhere and Thoma was bound to catch a teeny weenie crush on you.

It's no secret that Thoma is a hopeless romantic. He believes in his lucky omamori and fortune slips, hence it's not a huge stretch that he believes in soulmates too. No one in the Kamisato Estate was surprised when he preached that it is fate that bonded you two together. Lord Kamisato incessantly teased him for it, but Thoma was none the wiser. He thought that Ayato's remarks about being whipped were a compliment and that only made everyone more keenly aware that he was absolutely smitten.

Thoma was ultimately determined to reunite with you once more. The two of you lay on the same bed but with different dreams, and Thoma wished otherwise. He wanted to demonstrate to you that, if a "failure" like him could win the hearts of the Inazuman populace, then Mondstadt could also respect you and your adorable eccentricities.

But that won't be an easy feat.

The journey to Liyue was perilous, but it was nothing compared to his first trip to Inazuma. It was a bit funny how most of the ships to Liyue were suspended. Luckily, Thoma never lost hope. He and Captain Beidou came to an agreement whereby she would allow him to board the Alcor in exchange for a thorough cleanup. And hey, when it comes to housework, he's almost as passionate as Beidou's need to see the Tianquan, so it was a true non-zero-sum game.

Going from Liyue to Mondstadt was quite a chore as well. Some mora is better than no mora, and that was his way of coping after dishing out 900 mora to pay a guide and his spouse to help him out. The guide never shuts up. He kept talking about a drunkard friend from Mondstadt while his spouse graciously tried to focus on Thoma's needs. His spouse was clearly forced to marry the man under a contract. The Mondstadter prayed that your future marriage is far from theirs. Thoma's patient, but he doesn't think you can handle hearing about osmanthus wine, or in his case, housekeeping, for the rest of your married life. (The spouse can prepare some delectable seafood, though.)

Thoma considered whether his determination to meet you again was being tested by cleaning the entire ship and listening to an old couple bicker 24/7. At least he's in Mondstadt now, right?

"Excuse me, miss. Do you know where Mx. (Y/n) (L/n) is?"

Thoma was very amazed by the souvenir shop owner's ability to hear him over the talk of other tourists and the clacking of hooves that returned knights from a prolonged expedition. The town square is adorned with proud flags and colorful banners that symbolized the KoF's triumphant return, which meant the grandmaster is home as well.

Since Varka is here then that means--

"Ahh, (Y/n)?" Marjorie tapped her bottom lip. "That ungrateful kid isn't here. They didn't even bother to welcome their cousin home. They're probably sulking elsewhere."

Thoma flinched.

"Excuse me?"

"What's wrong? You do know what kind of person (Y/n) is, right?" Marjorie said nonchalantly.

"I mean, what did you expect? They're a disappointment to the Imunlaukr Clan, so it's only natural that they would shy away from celebrations like this. It's for the best, no one wants a weirdo around to spoil the festival."

His eyes darkened. Thoma's entire focus was on Marjorie now, and he didn't hear a teary-eyed person running for the stairs.

"How do you have the guts to say that about someone?"

Marjorie raised an eyebrow.

"But it's the truth–"

"Just how much do you know about (Y/n)?" Thoma gritted his teeth.

"Have you talked to them before? Have you taken them out for lunch? Do you know how they feel when people talk about them like that? Do you know how hard they worked to please everyone?"

At this point, the noise from the crowd began to simmer down as they tried to eavesdrop on this confrontation. Thoma subconsciously towered above Marjorie, and his hand slammed the door beside her.

His dull green eyes leered deep into her soul.

"N-No?"

"Then you should watch what you say, Miss."

The scent of embers wafted in the air.

Thoma didn't notice it was his own doing until Marjorie screamed. His conscience was stirred by her horrified eyes, and he quickly pushed away.

Heat radiated throughout the shop and Marjorie's arm, but fortunately, it wasn't enough to cause blisters and unbearable pain.

"O-Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to come off that strong!" Thoma rambled on, fearing that he may have crossed the line. He felt multiple stares drilling the back of his head, and that solidified how wary the crowd was. "I'm just saying you should be careful what you say next time! You never know if you're hurting someone already."

Thoma's not the villain here. He's just teaching her a valuable lesson, that's all.

"R-right..." Marjorie whimpered. Her sleeves were nearly burnt to crisp and Thoma's heart dropped at the thought of additional expenses. Still, he's not above paying the price.

"I'm r-really sorry for the damages!" He blurted out. "I'll pay you back, how much?"

-----

Some mora is better than no mora, sure, but now that latter is starting to sound more like his situation.

Thankfully Marjorie didn't ask for much. Thoma couldn't decide whether to chalk it up as good fortune or the result of being too intimidating. Either way worked out for him anyway, cause he would've tried to haggle the price down if it were too expensive.

But the fact that his emotions got the best of him was alarming...

Did you mean this much to him?

... Who is he kidding? Of course, you do!

Thoma sailed through storms and walked mountains to see you again, didn't he? His protectiveness is just a form of love. Marjorie isn't ill so no harm done, but if the situation called for it he would've undoubtedly escalated it to something more. This type of determination makes him your protector from afar, doesn't it?

"Ugh..." Thoma pouted. "Don't they sell anything other than alcohol here? I can't stomach the smell..."

While looking for a non-alcoholic beverage, he caught a glimpse of a passing slender and tall figure that loomed behind him. His strides were large and the head above his shoulders was etched in a permanently stern expression. The vibrant strawberry hair that crowned his head both contrasted his dim face and signified which family he belonged to–- who he was. It's none other than Diluc Ragnvindr.

Thoma grinned. When you and Thoma had the entire library to yourselves, Diluc used to take care of you two. He had the honor of overseeing two very bashful kids who were three years younger than him. Second only to Lord Kamisato, he was one of the most passionate people Thoma had ever met.

"Hey, Diluc!"

He didn't anticipate anything will happen when he called Diluc's name. The last time they met, Diluc was the nation's rising star, while Thoma was a timid teenager. Diluc may not know him now that Thoma pulled back his golden hair and changed the tone of his voice to one that exudes social lightness.

"It's me!" He grinned and reached out his hand for a handshake. Thoma was a bit nervous. He didn't know if he should be casual with the Ragnvindr heir, but this approach is ten times better than ignoring him. Thoma is not without care for friends. Why wouldn't he greet an old buddy? Especially the kid who played devil's advocate for your shenanigans?

"Th–"

Diluc briefly exhibited signs of fear before clearing his throat.

"Thoma." Diluc bit back coldly.

Thoma hesitantly sank his hand back into his pockets. What was that look for? Did he do something wrong?-- Well, he did almost burn a store down... but it didn't feel like that was the reason behind that face he made.

"I-It's been a long time!" He beamed, joyful that one of the few people who didn't shun him in his childhood still recalled him. "I thought you wouldn't recognize me anymore!"

Diluc hummed curtly. His eyes were sharp, which only accentuated that he hates to prolong whatever conversation this was, if you could call it one.

"I wouldn't dare make the mistake of not knowing who you are."

Thoma chuckled nervously. "Right."

"Is that all?" Diluc huffed.

"Oh," Thoma scratched the back of his head. "How's Master Crepus? I'm old enough now, you think he'll allow me to drink this time?"

He teased quickly before he loses Diluc's attention. It was just a small jest that alluded to the time young Thoma sneaked in inside Dawn Winery, but the look on Diluc's face was indescribable.

One thing was for certain, he was not pleased.

"N-Nevermind, how's Kaeya–"

"Have a pleasant evening, Mister Thoma." Diluc immediately turned his back on him, and his footsteps already drowned Thoma's unpolished ramblings.

"I hope you have fun staying in Mondstadt."

Mondstadt's chatter sounded in a near-endless chorus, therefore confirming that Diluc left the conversation.

He sighed humorously loud.

"Haaaaah... this is one of the most overwhelming homecomings of all time, alright. Maybe it could even top dad's... Wherever he is."

Thoma thought it would be him who would be unrecognizable in both appearance and personality.

But it seems Diluc changed too. And if Thoma were to be so bold, maybe he changed too much. He wondered how you felt about that–-

Thoma gasped.

Wait...

He opened numerous letters about the toxic people. You often compared a "friend" of yours and the people around "them" to a broke coin collector and a few pennies. Several anecdotes described in detail how the broke coin collector wanted to buy a fresh loaf of bread but was unable to part with their money since they believed it will one day reveal its true value.

The "Fixer" thoughtlessly retorted that "a coin's purpose by the end of the day is to be spent. What good will holding on do if you starve yourself to death? You need to tell the coin collector that their life is worth more than what they've saved."

He grimaced.

He was just trying to sound poetic. Thoma never thought that there was a possibility that one of these "coins" might be Master Diluc Ragnvindr himself.

Thoma crossed his arms and shook his head. It doesn't matter. He could be wrong. Maybe Diluc is just in a bad mood, and it's not like the 'cavalry captain' knows that he's "Fixer". It'll be ignorant to assume that a bright man like Diluc became a toxic person just because of one bad day.

Besides, some mora is better than no mora, and you still have him. And even if Diluc walked out of your life, Thoma will never let you be alone.

So don't worry, okay?

-------

Thoma didn't remember Dragonspine being this cold.

The last time he traversed the bridge towards the mountain was years ago, and he faintly remembers traveling with adventurer Cyrus to collect logs. He resisted the cold back then, but he can no longer say the same now that he's a pyro vision user. His pyro shield doesn't seem to provide any warmth in Dragonspine. Kind of backwards, isn't it? Thank goodness Good Hunter's served hot coffee. It was the only non-alcoholic drink they served this festival. His bottle preserved the comforting heat, and his hands were delighted to hold on to it. It was almost a torch for his vision to light up each time.

He also didn't bring a map. It wasn't in his budget after paying the Goth Hotel extra for his stay which was a major bummer (he doesn't recall the prices being that high before?) but it's alright. You write about the place sporadically that it almost felt like he knew the place like the back of his hand.

"H-hoo… I should've brought extra layers…" Thoma shivered. "Y-You made it sound like Dragonspine wasn't t-this cold at all… Oh, dear… I'm r-really tempted to run on the i-ice now…"

Once he pushed away from the branches of one particular tree, the bizarre trip had all been worth it.

"(Y/n)..."

He knew that who he saw had to be you.

Because you were breath-taking.

But that bliss was short-lived. Something was wrong.

"--I'm so glad to have met you and the Fishing Association. You didn't know who my family was and treated me like a friend, not a means to an end."

A crease formed between Thoma's eyebrows and his lips trembled. His face contorted in an ineffable string of hurt and betrayal, and his suffocating grasp on the poor tree beside him burned.

Your shoulders were drooped and you wore a Snezhnayan scarf, but most importantly, you were confiding in this blue-eyed stranger.

You were confiding in someone else that isn't him. He's your soulmate! He should be the only one you could count on.

The thud of his boots on crusty snow stopped Thoma from threading farther. That sounded too loud. If he moved a little closer, they'd hear him. And he can't afford to look like a stalker.

Thoma gulped harshly. He should've prayed that his first meeting with you wouldn't be spoiled by some filthy man he didn't even know.

What are you doing?

That spot was supposed to be for him.

Who is that man?

When you started running and the stranger followed after, Thoma walked to your camp and picked up his unopened letter. His letter sat near your plate and other discarded items.

You didn't even read it before talking to that stranger. Did that man matter more than him?

He tucked it away and smiled sadly.

You're not ready to know his feelings just yet.

But don't worry! You and Thoma will fall in love when the time is right.

It's fate, after all! He just KNOWS it!

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amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix · 10 months

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fight off the light tonight and just stay with me (honey, don't you leave) || ot7

Warnings: a teeny tiny bit of blood, mentions of hospitals and surgery, heavy angst(?)

I won't control you, but MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. This is not for you, please.

Pairings: OT7/(F) Reader, Jackson Wang/(F) Reader

Plot: Will it be too late for them to try and make things right?

Genre: not really unrequited love (but they're all idiots), mutual pining, angst, denial of feelings, poly ot7

Did you ever love her? Do you know?

Or did you never want to be alone?

And she was singing "Baby, come home."

"Baby, come home."

I've got those jet pack blues

Fight off the light tonight and just stay with me;

Honey, don't you leave.

mixtape: all i have left to give - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ending 1

thank you so much because this fic was my first one to reach more than 10 kudos in ao3 and some peeps liked the first part enough to reblog to want to read the next part you don't know how much it means to me :o oh my fucking god how did that happen??? thank you so friggin much!!!

sorry if my summaries are all song lyrics owo i just love taking inspiration from them when i write because i can't find the old me who can write and word vomit in a drop of a hat huahuahauhauhauahuahauaau am sorry my bad

bit of warning for some teeny tiny blood and hospitals but no one will die, i promise! i mean not yet, so far i haven't thought that far yet.

also!!!! i'm not a medical expert so please let me know if there are inaccuracies because there are bound to be, no matter how much research i do or how much i ask from doctor frens hueheuheuuefhiuf

title from Jet Pack Blues by Fall Out Boy because fuck yeah i wouldn't get them as a first tattoo if i didn't love them so much

hope i don't disappoint! if i do, i'm so sorry hahahuhu my mom always told me i'm a disappointment so there's kinda nothing new

hope i can write the next parts soon T_T

❤️‍🩹

You can feel the string in your chest slowly fraying.

You never thought that is possible. After all, the strings are connected to the soul and can never be seen. However, when you started the therapy, you started feeling it fray. Slowly and painfully. You don't know how and why, you just do.

Your symptoms are worsening, too. Doctor Im advised you against overworking and stressing yourself but how can you not? It feels like no matter what you do or where you turn, the boys are there. Your only escape is your work and in your line of work, stress is inevitable, so you have no choice but to endure it. At least at work, you are in control. At least at work, you don't have to think about being unwanted—your clients are the ones who request your services, after all.

You don't know what to feel, really. It feels like fate is pushing you to your limits and wants to see you suffer.

Look, even you can admit to yourself that there's no need to undergo the therapy. Your soulmates can go get fucked and feel your pain through the bond.

But you can't have that, can you?

You're not one to lie to yourself, you know why you feel this way. Aside from the fact that fate (unfortunately) assigned you seven soulmates who can give less of a fuck about you, you know deep down that you want to be with them and not just because your souls were linked to each other.

You're in with love them, period.

You've seen them through their bests and their worsts, and you're still hopelessly in love with them. You've seen their sides that they never dare show you, the beauty they unfairly grant other people but not you. You've also seen their worst, the ugliness seemingly reserved for you alone, but the longing is still there.

You can't help it, and you're sadly fucked no matter how you look at it.

As you massage your perpetually aching chest, you also think how your dignity and pride are the only ones you have left. While it might be a rush of satisfaction to see them squirm, it is at the cost of your pride. You learned early on in life that you can never show your emotions—most especially your weakness—with how many times people fucked you over by using them against you.

In this case, you have to endure every pain to save face. So if it helps everyone sleep at night, then you'll give them what they want. If they don't want you, then you'll just have to remove yourself from the equation altogether. Simple math.

You snort. You're being too dramatic. You're used to this, you tell yourself. From your mother to the few lovers you had; there was always something wrong with you, something lacking. You're never needed in your whole life, so it was easy for them to leave you. It was always the easiest choice to not choose you. Why are you crying about it now?

You shake your head with a resigned sigh. There's no use regretting this. You swore to yourself you would stop regretting things you do and now is the time to stand by it. For yourself, and for the inner child in you who did nothing but run after people who turned their backs on her.

You try to stave off the pounding behind your temples by rubbing your eyes with your palms. While you are thankful that the meds seem to be working and the boys can't feel any input of emotions from you through your bond, the medicines and treatments are such pains in the ass. Fucking side effects.

Speaking of side effects, Doctor Im told you that one side effect would be them not feeling any of the emotions you feel, but you would still feel theirs, the latter possibly more potently than normal. You tried to test the emotion theory before, afraid that it will fail and the meds won't work. This is your only chance at walking away with your precious pride intact, so this should work. This has to work.

"It might take a while, but your emotions shouldn't reach through their strings anymore once you continuously undergo the whole therapy process," Doctor Im had said.

"You would still feel theirs, unfortunately." He looks at you tenderly, albeit with not an ounce of pity. That's okay, you don't want anyone's pity. "You'll be more attuned to them than a normal person is to their soulmate because your soul will be tender from all the treatments."

Doctor Im Jiho is kind, a little young for his profession if you say so yourself, but he is brilliant. It's what made you trust him. Even if the therapy is still not ratified and recognized legally, and still in its human trial stages, something about how passionately Doctor Im explained the whole therapy process and what it entails just screamed 'I know what the fuck I am doing'.

Or he should. Please let it be true, or you'll just rip your lungs out of your ribs and unalive yourself. So far though, Doctor Im and his team delivered.

Back to the emotion theory you have.

You wanted to see if the therapy works. Since soulmates can feel each others' extreme emotions, going through soul-scraping therapy shouldn't send any of yours to their end of the bond. To be sure, you waited a month into the treatments to start with the observation.

Since you've been keeping your distance and you cannot see it for yourself, you asked for help from Ae-cha and their other managers, most especially Kyunghee. They understood and agreed with no questions asked, and for that, you are eternally grateful.

You asked them for even the slightest changes in the boys' behavior during times when you know your emotions were at high. So far, there were none. It's either the meds are really working or they are just good at masking it. The second would be implausible, knowing how anything related to you would be a nuisance for them. They would make their displeasure known about it, you're sure.

Sejin, however, you're not sure you can face his pitying eyes again, so you never asked him. You don't want to hear the pitying tone in his voice one more time either. Once is more than enough to last for your lifetime.

You are just about to reach for the medicine bottle when you feel your eyeballs twitch rapidly from behind your eyelids and the pounding in your temples grow louder.

God, not now. You still have that meeting set with your lawyers. Not now.

You dial your assistant's number shakily.

"Joy, can you please phone Attorney Shin for me?" You say to the phone through your coughs, the air in your chest feels like slowly being squeezed out of you.

"Are you okay, [Name]?" Comes your assistant's concerned voice through the phone speaker. "Do you want me to call Doctor Im?"

You take the glass of water on your table with shaking hands. "I'm okay. I'm okay." You take big gulps of water, but the feeling doesn't pass. "There's no need."

Joy ignores the last part. "I'm going there, wait for me."

You go to tell her not to bother, but she hangs up before you can. A few minutes later, Joy comes through the door slightly panting.

"[Name]!" Joy takes hurried steps toward you, but you weakly wave her off. "You look like death. Jeez, I'm calling Doctor Im!"

"No, no! I'm—" You burst into another fit of whooping coughs and faintly hear Joy's worried voice.

Your hand comes away with splotches of blood, some staining the sleeve of your pullover shirt.

"Oh, shit. Shit, [Name]!" Joy screeches, now terrified. She runs to the doorway and shouts. "Jenny! Jenny! Come quick!"

Footsteps sound shortly later and you hear Jenny's panicked shrieks.

"[Name]? Are you okay?!" You feel Jenny's hand touch your shoulder. "Oh, my god. Dongwoon! Dongwoon!" More footsteps but you don't register them, black spots dancing in your vision.

So maybe you're not okay right now.

Oops, your bad.

You stand up slowly to tell them you're fine. However, before you can even open your mouth, you cough and retch.

More blood.

"[Name]!"

The last thing that registers in your brain are strong arms catching you when you black out, their panicked voices warped in your ears.

(oh, darling. what are we going to do with you?)

---

"I got it! I got it now, hyung," Taehyung says with a grin to Hoseok as Jimin comes back through the door of their practice room.

"Yeah? Let's run that through again?" Hoseok asks with a satisfied smile.

"Okay!" Taehyung nods. The boys are all feeling happy because the choreography turned out really good and is something they are proud of. The good feeling doesn't last long, however, when Jungkook bursts into the room.

"Hyung! Hyung!"

They all turn to look at him, eyebrows raised. Namjoon tsks at him.

"Kook, don't run. How many times do I—"

"[Name]-noona!"

They all freeze.

''She... she..." Jungkook then bursts into breathless tears, which propels Yoongi and Namjoon out of their seats. Jin turns off the music. When Jungkook doesn't continue, Namjoon shakes his shoulders.

"Jungkook, what is it?'" Panic rising in his voice.

"They rushed her to the hospital," Jungkook chokes through his sobs. "Y-Yonsei. They rushed her to Yonsei, hyung."

Their stomach drops at that.

Ever since they discovered by accident that you had been undergoing soul-scraping therapy, they have been keeping an eye on you. It took a while for some of them to accept or maybe even acknowledge you as their other soulmate, some longer than others, but they're getting there.

However, the pit in their stomach and the guilt in their chests never really went away, so they had to do it slowly and inconspicuously. They watched from afar and through their staff, and it pissed them off to no end that they have to do so, but they have to. They want to take it slowly and surely so as not to confuse and overwhelm you, still also confused about what they're feeling themselves.

"Yonsei? Hospital? Are you sure?" Jimin asks. "Why—"

"I don't know, hyung. I just heard Manager Sejin talking to Kyunghee-nim." Jungkook looks lost, tears flowing down his cheeks. "[Name]-noona..."

Jin doesn't even wait for their response, sprinting out of the room to find where Sejin is.

"Jin-hyung!"

He ignores them, spotting Sejin standing with his phone clutched in his hand, and talking to one of their other managers, Kyunghee. The pained expression on their faces and their hushed conversation say everything Jin needs to know.

"Sejin-nim!"

At the sound of his voice, Sejin and Kyunghee both turn to look at him.

Jin halts to a stop in front of the two. "What happened to her?"

"How did you—?"

"Please, Sejin-nim," Jin begs as the others come into view, slightly panting. "I need to know, please."

Sejin looks at Kyunghee, the latter with a grim expression on her face.

"Is it because of the therapy?" When Sejin didn't answer, Jin turns to Kyunghee. "Kyunghee-nim, please."

Kyunghee nods with a solemn expression. "Yes." The others gasp behind him but nothing registers. "Joy told me she'd been getting sicker as of late. She collapsed this morning."

Jungkook's sobs get louder, but Jin paid them all no mind. The only thing on his mind is—

"[Name]." He looks at Sejin with desperation in his eyes. "Take me to her. I want to see her."

Sejin purses his lips, sharing a look with Kyunghee. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Why?!" Jin's eyes are shining from unshed tears, frustration bubbling in his chest. "I want to see her. Take me to her, Sejin-nim. Please."

"We have explicit instructions not to let any of you see her," Kyunghee says steadily. "We can't take you there, Jin. I'm sorry."

"If you're not taking me to her, I'll go there by myself," Jin says stubbornly. "I don't care about whose instructions they are; she's my soulmate and I'm seeing her."

"A soulmate you all rejected!" Sejin bursts out sharply. "You all asked her to stay away from you, asked me to talk to her before. Or don't you remember?"

Jin falls silent at that. The others are no better, hanging their heads in shame.

"You didn't see her eyes that day, Jin. I was the one to look the poor girl in the eyes." Sejin's tone softens. "Don't do this to her. Do you want to see her in more pain?"

"I just want to see her," Jin says brokenly. "I won't show myself to her. I'll be gone when she wakes up." Jin pleads. "Please, Sejin-nim. It's all I ask of you, please."

"She explicitly asked me before not to let anyone of you near her, so I can't. We have to respect that."

Jin huffs angrily, turning back to Jungkook. "Yonsei, you said?" He doesn't wait for the response and stalks off, patting for his keys in his pockets.

Shit. He left them in his room.

"Seokjin!" Sejin runs after him, but he ignores him.

"Hyung!" Someone pulls his arm back, and it's Namjoon.

"No!" Jin yanks his arm back. "This stops now, Namjoon."

"Hyung."

"That's our soulmate. Our soulmate!" Jin shakes his head. "Fuck getting burned and left behind—we left her behind. All seven of us. If us getting used and left behind by people who are not our soulmates hurt, how do you think that would feel for her, rejecting and leaving her? Her own soulmates!"

"You know why we had to do it!" Namjoon bellows.

"And it's bullshit! She is our actual soulmate, you saw her marks!" Jin yells back. "You know how I felt about this. I told you all how I felt about this, but you didn't listen. Nobody listened to me."

"Hyung, that's enough!" Yoongi growls. "It's unfair for you to put this on us; you agreed to it, too."

"Because I'll lose you all if I don't! You gave me no choice!"

"We never said that!" Hoseok holds Yoongi back from stepping further toward Jin, the latter seething in anger. "We never asked you to do that."

"You get drunk and cry to me, telling me to always choose you and the others. That's not asking me?" Jin sneers. "You always saying how we should always choose each other and no one else, that's not asking me? You asked me to stay away from her even when it hurts choosing between you and her. Do you take me for a fool, Yoongi?"

Jin looks at all of them and they would shrink at the anger that is not normally present on his beautiful face, but they're all too furious to back down.

"I tried to talk to all of you, but no one listened."

He looks at Jimin and Hoseok, and they both look away in guilt. "This is not something you two should be neutral about. She had been nothing but kind to you."

Jin turns and jabs his finger toward Namjoon. "I thought you of all people can be reasoned with, but you let your pride cloud your judgment. I thought you had the brains to see through your fucking ego, but I was clearly wrong."

He then looks at Taehyung, rage marring his face. "And you. Do you think I wouldn't know how you rubbed the rejection in her face like an asshole, Taehyung? Huh? How dare you?"

Jungkook gasps and whips his head toward Taehyung with a hurt expression.

"Hyung?" Jungkook puts his hand on Taehyung's shoulder, who doesn't look back at any of them. "What is he talking about?" Jungkook turns back to Jin, confusion on his teary face. "What are you talking about, Jin-hyung?"

Jin scoffs. "He asked her how it feels to be rejected, and how it feels to run around with people who aren't her soulmates a few months ago at that bar. Didn't you, Taehyung?" The others gasp, their eyes widening as they all turn towards Taehyung, who now looks guiltily away from them.

"And I had to know from Jackson, of all people. Jackson! The asshole didn't hold back in letting me know how it's a good thing [Name] will never be ours. How do you think it feels to stand there and listen to him tell me how stupid I am for dropping my soulmate when I never wanted to in the first place, Taehyung?"

"Taehyung-ah!" Hoseok cried. "Why would you do that to her?"

Taehyung yanks his arm off Hoseok's grasp. "I don't know, okay?! I don't know!" he snarls. "She looked so happy with him and I can't think straight! I wasn't thinking straight." He chokes on his sobs.

"You shouldn't have done that, Taehyung-ah!" Hoseok admonishes. "She didn't do anything wrong to us."

"I know, okay?!" he snaps. "I know we asked her to stay away but I can't help feeling angry that she's so happy without us when all I can think is we asked for this, we wanted this."

Taehyung breaks down and weeps. Hoseok puts his arms around him in a tight hug.

"I didn't know what I was thinking," he cries repeatedly. "I didn't know what I was thinking."

There were a few heavy minutes of silence, save for Taehyung's sobs and Jungkook's sniffles.

"If anything happens to her, I'll never be able to forgive myself." Jin eventually says. "I'm no saint, but I never ever would intentionally hurt [Name] more than we are already doing.

"Even if we try to make things right, it might be too late. But, I still want to try because it's what she deserves. So, I won't let anyone stop me. No one can stop me," Jin looks at them one by one, lingering a little longer on Namjoon's and Yoongi's faces. He takes a deep steadying breath.

"Not any of you can stop me. Not even any of you." He shakes his head. "Not anymore."

He abruptly turns on his heels, and Jungkook runs after him.

Jin needs to see you, and he'll find a way to, even if has to go against anyone's wishes.

He'll find his way to get back to you.

(took him too long, darling. will he make it in time?)

---

In the end, Sejin did take him to the hospital. Jungkook, unsurprisingly, came with him. The younger clung onto him all the way to Yonsei, tears staining his dark shirt.

"I don't want to lose any of you, hyung." Jungkook cries, face buried in Jin's chest. "But I don't want to lose her, too."

"I know," Jin says, voice hoarse. "You won't lose me. I don't want to lose her, too." He buries his in Jungkook's soft locks, trying to keep the tears that had been threatening to spill since he sat in the back of the car.

"We'll make it right this time, Gguk-ah."

---

Jin doesn't know what to expect when the car stops in front of Yonsei Medical Center. He had a plan up until they stopped, the car running idly in the background. Now, he doesn't think he's ready to see you, too afraid of what he'll come across.

He knows he's getting ahead of himself, but he can't help but think that he might be too late, that he had already lost your heart.

No.

He takes a deep breath and steels himself.

He can do this. He can do this for you.

"You ready?" he asks Jungkook. Jin wipes at the stray remaining tears on Jungkook's face and runs his hands through the now-long hair just so he can keep his hands busy and stop them from shaking.

"I don't know, hyung." Jungkook's wide eyes are still glassy. "I'm scared."

Jin smiles gently. "Don't be. Hyung's here." He takes Jungkook's hand on his own. "We have to be strong for her if we want to do it right. Okay?"

"Okay, hyung." Jungkook nods with a small hopeful smile. "Okay."

For all the bravado that he conjured up while in the car, in the elevator, and in the hallways to the sterile room of the ICU, Jin still isn't prepared for what greets him when they take you inside your room.

They had to wait for you to be taken to your room from the operating room. The whole time they were waiting, Jin can't stop his leg from jiggling and Jungkook was no better, pacing around the room while lost in his thoughts.

Then the door opened.

He stands and gasps in sync with Jungkook's own, and he has to stop himself from falling to the floor.

When they said that you collapsed, he was thinking that maybe you were just overworked. That, and that the therapy's side effects just added to it. You'll be fine, you'll be okay.

This... this is far from what he expected. This is definitely not fine, and this is way worse.

You are hooked on different machines and it scares him to death. Your skin is pale and frail with bluish spots and rashes all over your face and skin, and your lips are almost blue. Your hands and fingers have spots of violet, green and grayish tints.

You look like death.

Jungkook breaks into sobs, calling your name as Jin stands there frozen. He only snaps out of it when one of the nurses stops Jungkook from running to your side and grasping your hand.

"We have specific instructions from her doctor not to allow skin contact with the patient, not until we know who her soulmate is," the nurse says as she wheels your bed to place, putting a hand to stop Jungkook from getting closer to the bed.

"That's us," Jungkook says as Jin steps behind him. "We're her soulmates."

If Jungkook thinks that this will make the nurse relent, he's sorely mistaken.

The nurse shakes her head resolutely. "All the more reason you are both not allowed to have skin-to-skin contact with the patient."

"What?" Jin blurts out.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss information about Miss [Last Name]'s condition," the nurse points out. "We advise waiting for Doctor Choi. He'll be here in a few minutes."

Jin is itching to just fuck it and take your hand, but he knows it would not be wise until they speak to the doctor.

Doctor Choi can't arrive fast enough.

Jin pulls Jungkook down to sit beside him as they see the nurses fuss over you. He has no choice but to resist the urge to touch and hover over you as his chest pulls him to do. He doesn't want to risk hurting or harming you further, so he sits on the couch and puts his hand on Jungkook's knee instead.

"What's taking them so long, hyung?" Jungkook's knee is jiggling, and Jin pats him gently. Jin looks calm outwardly, but his shaking hands betray him. "Why is her doctor not here yet?"

"I don't know, Gguk-ah, but we have to be patient."

Jungkook looks at him with furrowed brows. "How can you be so calm about this?" His eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

Jin laces his hand with Jungkook's, still shaking. It then dawns on Jungkook that Jin is anything but calm.

"I'm not." Jin takes a deep breath, otherwise, the tears he tries so hard to suppress will start pouring. "I'm not, but I have to."

He looks at where you're lying on the bed.

"We have to, Gguk. She needs us right now. We need to set things right, and we can't do that if we fall apart right now. Okay?"

It's then that the door to your suite opens. Jin and Jungkook both stand at the sound and in strides whom Jin recognizes as Doctor Im from his visits to you, and another doctor whom he presumes as Doctor Choi.

"Oh. Mr. Kim. Mr. Jeon," Jin and Jungkook bow slightly at the acknowledgment, "I didn't expect to see you two here."

That sends a pang to Jin's chest, but he ignores it. He knows they deserve the unintended jab.

"Should I expect the others to arrive soon?" the doctor asks.

Should they?

"We're honestly not sure, Doc." Manager Sejin, as usual, saves the day. "Kim Sejin." Sejin holds his hand out to shake the doctors' hands.

"Im Jiho, Animaelogy specialist." Doctor Im shakes his hand and points to the doctor beside him. "This is Doctor Choi Daeseong, head surgeon for Yonsei Medical." The other doctor shakes Sejin's hand.

"Due to the nature of Miss [Last Name]'s case, we would have to request the rest of the security detail present to leave the room for a while. You three can stay, but that's as far as we can allow for this discussion."

Sejin nods. "That will be no problem." He nods at the two men standing by the door, who immediately bow and take their leave. The nurses slowly file out of the room as well.

The two doctors walk toward your prone figure, and Jin and Jungkook follow suit. Doctor Im makes a short check of your vitals, while Doctor Choi checks you with gentle hands and looks at your charts. Once done, the two doctors turn toward the three remaining men in the room.

"Is there someone we can talk to from Miss [Name]'s team about her overall condition and routines these past few weeks or months?" Doctor Im asks.

"We can ask Joy Song from her team, as well as Jenny Ri. They're her closest assistants, so they can provide information. I last saw them trying to contact [Name]'s lawyers." Sejin supplies.

Doctor Im nods. "I see." He takes a quick look towards you before turning back to them. "I'm afraid [Name] isn't doing too good right now.

Jungkook finds Jin's still shaking hands, lower lip trapped between his bunny teeth.

"It's a good thing that her team was able to rush her in right away. If not, the situation would have been graver than it is now."

Jin's heart stops.

"G-grave?" he asks, voice trembling. "What do you mean 'grave'?"

It's Doctor Choi who speaks this time.

"When Miss [Last Name] was brought in for the emergency surgery, we had to do an emergency septal myectomy." Doctor Choi holds up a film of a scan, presumably [Name]'s.

"This is Miss [Last Name]'s echocardiogram." He points at a white portion in the middle of the scan, and Jin's head swims. "Miss [Last Name]'s septum is drastically thicker than that of a person with a healthy heart, so it prevented healthy blood flow to the chambers of her heart. Added to the treatments she was undergoing, it caused abnormal and uneven blood flow to her heart and the rest of her body, and caused complications that were...life-threatening."

Doctor Im looks at the other doctor. "It appears that [Name] has been hiding her symptoms since our last meeting, possibly way longer, so it was left untreated."

"What happened, Doc?" Sejin asks as he looks between the two doctors. "Is she going to be okay?"

The doctors share a grim look, one that Jin notices.

"What is it?" he asks, eyes darting between the two.

"Her heart nearly gave out from the heavy stress her body was in, Mr. Kim. Her blood wasn't being properly pumped and filtered, and her immune system was heavily compromised, so she suffered from bilateral pneumonia, which also affected her bloodstream.

Doctor Im takes off his glasses and sighs heavily. "She had septic shock caused by sepsis."

"She almost didn't make it." Doctor Choi says. Jin gasps in sync with Jungkook, the latter almost collapsing to the floor. "She went into cardiac arrest on the table, but we were able to bring her back."

(jin thinks his heart can't get any more bruised than it already is. your poor heart is battered literally and metaphorically. how can he possibly fix it for you?)

(he should've never listened when they asked him to stay away from you. he should've fought for you and with you, that way you're not alone.)

"But she's going to be okay, isn't she?" Sejin asks what the other two can't, what they're too afraid to ask.

Doctor Choi pauses before he shakes his head with pursed lips. "I'm afraid we can't really tell right now. We put her in an induced coma while we try to let her body recover, and we administered treatments, which will continue within the next few days. We can only hope for the best."

"Hope for the best?!" Jungkook cries his first words since the two doctors entered the suite, and looks up at them with tears now steadily running down his cheeks. "So we do nothing?!"

"Unfortunately, so." Jungkook finally loses it and collapses onto the floor on his knees, staring into nothing. "We have done everything we could for now, and we'd have to run some more tests in a few days. But right now, we can only monitor her. An induced coma is the best bet we have to let her body rest and the for treatments to take effect."

Induced coma.

Jin's head is swimming with those two words as he walks closer to your prone figure and reaches out to mindlessly grasp your hand, but a hand stops his wrist.

"I'm afraid we have to advise you not to touch or make any skin-to-skin contact with Miss [Last Name] right now, most especially since you're her soulmate."

"What?" Jin asks dumbly.

"One of the side effects of the therapy is skin burns when the person comes in contact skin-to-skin with their soulmate, so skin-to-skin contact is highly discouraged."

Jin feels like his whole being wants to shatter. He can't love you, and he can't touch you? Was this how you felt all this time?

Before he can even make any further moves, the door to your suite opens, and in bursts Jackson, panting heavily.

Jin can't even find it in himself to be mad. After all, Jackson was there when you needed someone the most. No matter how it hurts him that there's another person who holds your hand, he can't do anything about it. They weren't there for you, he wasn't there for you. The least they can do is let you find someone else to hold when you need to.

Jackson crosses the room at record speed straight to you, grasping your hand delicately with a pained gasp. His manager is tailing behind and closes the door gently.

Jackson lets go of your hand gently and turns to the doctors. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"Im Jiho, Miss [Last Name]'s animaelogy physician." Jackson grasps the doctor's hand, as well as Doctor Choi's hand in a firm handshake. "This is Doctor Choi Daeseong, head surgeon for Yonsei."

"Jackson Wang." He smiles politely. "Is she gonna be okay?" He repeats.

"I assume Miss [Last Name] has made you aware of her treatments since she informed me she made you her next of kin?" Doctor Im asks.

Jackson's face darkens. "Yes, she did."

Doctor Im nods his head. "I'm afraid Miss [Last Name] is not doing so well right now. We would need to keep her in a coma for a while as we observe her and let the treatments take effect."

Jackson's eyebrows furrow. "Isn't that dangerous? How long would that take?"

"We'd need to assess first within the next few days. Right now, we cannot provide or guarantee until when she will need to be, but we'll do our best, Mr. Wang. I can assure you that."

Jackson nods but turns to Jin, his gaze hardening. "This is your fault." He looks at Jungkook, then back to Jin. "Why are you two here? Who gave you the right to be here?"

"We're her soulmates," Jungkook says coldly, to which Jackson snorts. Jungkook gets up from the floor swiftly. "We have every right to be here."

"Do you, Jungkook? After you all left her, do you really think you still have the right to be here? And for what? To make sure she's dead?"

Jungkook takes an angry step closer to Jackson, his face painted with rage. "What did you fucking say, you asshole?!" Sejin, the doctors, and Jackson's manager step between them. "Say that again, you motherfucker. I fucking dare you."

"Isn't that what you came here for, to make sure she stays away for good? Isn't that what you wanted?" Jackson is red in the face as the security detail rushes to the room.

"I'm still her soulmate, know your fucking place!" Jungkook shouts back, Jin holding him back by his chest. "In the eyes of the law, we have every right to be here."

"You gave up those rights when you rejected her, so you can shove that law up your ass and fuck off." Jackson's manager holds him back by wrapping his arms around Jackson's shoulders.

Jungkook can vaguely hear the doctors speaking to Sejin, but he pays them no mind. "I'm not leaving her here alone, so you can go get fucked."

"Jungkook." Sejin holds him by his shoulders. "I think it's best if we come back another day."

"I'm not leaving her again!" Jungkook cries.

"We're all emotional, and it will not help [Name] if one of you ends up in the ER." Jungkook looks at your peaceful figure, unaware of the disorder around you, and it hurts him. He feels his hands yearn to touch you but he can't, he doesn't want to hurt you. "Come on, I'll take you and Seokjin home."

Jungkook's expression crumples as he looks at Sejin. "But—"

"We'll come back, I promise." Jungkook's breathing is heavy, but Sejin's expression is steadfast. "I promise."

Jungkook has no choice but to concede. He turns back to Jackson. "You can't keep me away from her forever. I'll come back for her."

Jackson opens his mouth to retort that you don't need them, but his manager stops him.

"I'll come back for her, and no one can stop me. Unless it comes from her mouth that she doesn't want me here, I will be here." Jungkook chances one more look at you before he shrugs off the arms around him and stalks out of the room. Jin, who had been quiet all throughout the ordeal takes one good look at you before following suit, not even sparing Jackson a glance.

No one can keep them away from you. They'll stop at nothing just to do what they should've done before—give you all the love you deserve. Until you tell them that you don't want them in your life, they'll spend forever to try and make it up to you.

And make it up to you, they will.

---

#bts soulmate au #polyamorous bts #soul bonds #soulmate rejection #they're idiots your honor #i really dk what i'm doing i'm so so sorry #i mean there will be no fic if there are no idiots in denial #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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