#-and nothing to worry about. What else can they want?“

[twotwofroote]

When I was a kid, I wanted to break a bone. It happened often enough to other kids and I saw how people treated them. They'd excitedly sign your cast, offer to carry your books, bring you your lunch, etc. I wanted so badly to be looked after like that; to be thought about like that.

I tried to break my bones often. I would hear how someone else did it and try to replicate it. It never worked. Breaking a bone is surprisingly difficult but oh so easy at the same time.

I broke my wrist two years ago. I had stopped trying or actively wanting that over a decade prior. It was simply an accident - a fall when rollerblading. But it was nothing like I'd imagined as a kid.

TLDR: Being sick or injured doesn't give you what you want. It's a fantasy. The reality is painful and scary. I have a support system but it's just that, support. They can't be there 24/7. At the end of the day, I can be alone with my good health or alone with bad health. I'd much rather have the former.

(more context after the break)

For starters, I live in Japan. I had been for 3 years at that point but I'd never had significant medical problems. I had to learn so much while dealing with so much.

When it happened, it felt like a cartoon crunch at first. Like that scene in Teen Titans when Robin breaks his arm. But immediately after was a blinding pain I've never experienced before. I was crying and screaming for my friend but it took him a minute to come back and see what had happened. He was sweet. Trying to comfort me and make jokes. I'm glad I wasn't alone.

But when the Japanese staff came, I had to answer questions in Japanese. I can speak Japanese well enough but that pain. My god that pain. I could hardly breathe, let alone think in another language.

My friend called a Japanese friend to come get us. I stupidly thought we'd go right to the hospital and get me patched up. But it was a Thursday. Silly me breaking my wrist on a Thursday! I quickly learned that hospitals are "closed" on Thursdays. The staff kept saying "it's a bad day for this to happen. You can't go to the hospital on Thursdays. You should be more careful."

I couldn't believe it! What do you mean they're CLOSED? It's a hospital! I found out later that of course they will accept people but only if they go by ambulance. I knew that an American ambulance cost so I thought I had lucked out not going that route in hindsight. Then, I found out an ambulance here is only like $80. Live and learn.

Instead, my Japanese friend drove me to a clinic for x-rays. And boy howdy was it bad. That gave me a temporary cast/splint situation, set up an appointment at the hospital for the next day, and sent me on my way.

At the hospital appointment, I had more imaging to see just how bad it was. The doctor said I needed surgery... but that the schedule was booked up for a week. So, I went home and I waited.

It was so lonely. Nothing like I'd imagined as a kid. As a kid, I thought people could help me 24/7 and honestly I think it might have been like that. Friends and teachers to help you at school and parents to help you at home. But as an adult? My friends have jobs. They couldn't help me for 8+ hours a day. I couldn't go to work so I couldn't get help from coworkers. My family was thousands of miles away. I was so desperately alone.

I sat on my couch for a week. Scratching at my itchy splint, struggling to shower, struggling to eat. I thought surely that was going to be the worst of it. But then the surgery day came.

For better or worse, I was naively unaware of what was in store for me. I knew I was going to have to be awake which worried me at first. But then I figured, if they keep you awake, it must not be that bad, right? So I downloaded music and books on my phone. I pictured it like a tattoo - laying on a bed, one arm stretched out. I listen to some stuff, an hour or so later and boom I'm an fixed up! Like I said, naive.

The nurses were surprised when I said I wasn't nervous or scared. I thought it was silly they thought I would be. This sucked but it was still kind of interesting. Seeing an OR and being in a Japanese hospital! It was going to be such a good story to tell!

But then it was time for surgery. They strapped me down to a table - arms, legs, torso. Covered me in blankets which I thought was odd, it was August after all. I was starting to get nervous. This isn't what I expected after all. But it'd probably still be fine!

It was not fine. It was like torture. That's an hour and a half of my life that I'll never forget. It started well enough. My arm was numb so I couldn't feel anything and there were x ray cameras that I could see showing what they were doing. That was fine, I could just close my eyes after all but the sounds? I couldn't avoid the sounds. Then, idk how long in, I started to feel pain. The numbing was wearing off and I could FEEL them digging around in there. But I'd forgotten how to speak. The doctors didn't know English and I couldn't remember any Japanese. The pain was too much, I was so cold, and I couldn't move. I started to panic. I was scratching at the bed with my good hand and twisting. I tried to speak but I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling. Everyone was panicking trying to understand what this wounded animal wanted to convey. Eventually I got out the word for "hurt" and the doctor started asking me questions. It was easy to say yes or no from there. They gave me more medicine and the pain went away but the fear didn't.

The surgery took longer than estimated but eventually it was done. They took me off the table, sweating but freezing, and put me in a wheelchair. My whole arm was red and purple. I'd never seen anything like it. It didn't belong to me. The nurse went to adjust my sling but the arm escaped, hitting the table with surprising force. They apologized but I couldn't understand why. That wasn't mine after all.

I thought the worst was over. Now I could just go to sleep and when I woke the pain would be much more manageable. But I couldn't sleep. My arm was on fire. It felt like I was clutching the sun to myself. It radiated heat. The night nurse gave me an ice pack and some medicine but it didn't help. What is an ice pack to the sun?

Eventually morning came and I was discharged. The worst was behind me now but there was so so much more ahead of me that I hadn't considered. I had to go to the doctor once a month for x-rays. I had to go to rehab for 3 months, 2/3x a week. All of the doctors were friendly and I got better little by little. But I was so depressed. I just wanted my life back, my time back.

I had friends, doctors, and coworkers to help me but at the end of the day, I was at home alone. That wasn't new, of course, but the pain was, the scar was, the lack of control in my body was. I realized that the desire I had as a kid was so misplaced.

Being sick or injured doesn't give you what you want. It's a fantasy. The reality is painful and scary. I have a support system but it's just that, support. They can't be there 24/7. At the end of the day, I can be alone with my good health or alone with bad health. I'd much rather have the former.

Me: You know how when you were a kid and you’d wish that you’d get sick or injured in a way that would justify why you didn’t live up to your potential?

Everybody, apparently: No?

[ilikerafayelwaytoomuch]

What happens when the LADS guys are caught crying?

A/N: what the title says :) . I've always been someone that people have come to with their problems (forever the therapist friend) and comforting them. But I was thinking about what it'd be like to see the lads men cry, as there's a stigma around men crying (which is stupid but anyways). They're a lil short, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a lil angst, mentions of death, comfort, crying

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Rafayel 

When Thomas called you saying Rafayel had been dodging his calls all day, you weren't surprised. That was typical of your boyfriend. You decided to give him a call and maybe persuade him to finish a painting or two, but he didn't answer. Growing slightly concerned, you called again, but still nothing. Rafayel never missed your calls. He had even answered one day when he was using the bathroom, never wanting to miss a call from his muse. Since you were off work today anyway, you decided to pay him a visit, grabbing your keys and heading to his place. 

It was eerily empty in his house, which worried you even more. Something was off. Had he decided to go on a spontaneous trip out of town? He would have answered your calls then. You decided to try calling him again, not knowing what else to do. Your heart sank when you heard the familiar jingle play, going towards his phone that was going off. Rafayel had left his phone behind. Even more unheard of. The first place you thought of to look for him was the sea, the beach outside his house. If he wasn't there, there were a few more places to try, but that was the closest place. Opening his back door, you stepped out into his yard, leaving it and walking along the sand. 

You had almost decided to turn around and look somewhere else when you spotted a figure up ahead. The head of lilac hair told you it was Rafayel. His knees were pulled to his chest, sitting in the sand, his head gazing out to the sea, his clothes soaked as sat where the waves met the sand, the waves brushing up against him. A breath of relief left your lips, though you were still concerned. Picking up your pace, you jogged over to him, watching him as you got closer. You could tell that something was wrong in the way he sat and gazed out to the sea. Slowing down when you were close, you could see tears falling like pearls from his eyes, slipping down his face and splattering into the sea water. Your heart broke at the sight, carefully moving to sit next to him, not caring about getting your favorite pants soaked. When your arm wrapped around him, he jumped slightly, turning to see who had joined him. Saying nothing, you pulled him closer to you, his head easily falling onto your chest, a silent way of telling him it was okay to be crying. A way to tell him that you were there for him. 

His arms unraveled from his legs and wrapped around you, the sea beginning to soak your legs and his tears soaking your shirt. You brought a hand up to his head, patting his hair as he cried. When he seemed to settle, his tears slowing, you broke the silence. “What happened?” 

“It's nothing,” he muttered. 

“If it got you out here crying and not answering my calls it's not nothing,” you argued. 

“Sorry,” he hid his face. You gently placed a hand on his cheek, encouraging to face you. 

“You don't need to apologize, Raf. I'm more worried than anything. You know you can talk to me, right? You can cry or scream or pout in front of me and I won't run. I care about you so very much.” 

“I miss home,” his voice broke slightly as he admitted what was bothering him. You nodded in understanding, staying silent. “I miss Lemuria. My friends and family. My home. The stupid fish and whales. I miss all of them and I'm the only one I can blame for that. It's my fault they're gone.” His words sat heavy in your hearts. He had told you of his history and past. You didn't remember what had happened, but believed him when he told you, feeling that the two of you were connected, the bond proving it. 

“I can't say that's not entirely true, and I don't remember what happened, but I don't think you can blame just yourself. You still tried everything in your power to save your people. You fell in love. You were young. No one can blame you for that. I know my situation is completely different, but I miss home sometimes too. It's hard. I can't even imagine how much harder it is when your home literally no longer exists,” you told him. He nodded. “Do you regret what you did?” You suddenly asked. 

“Not at all. I'd choose you every time,” he stated. 

“Then you shouldn't take the full blame for what happened. You tried. You really did.” 

Silence fell over the two of you as you watched the waves. You held him in your arms as he sat silently, a few tears falling every now and then. “Is there anything I can do to make your home here feel more like home? I can try to cook a dish from Lemuria or decorate your house,” you offered.

“You feel like home. Just you being here helps,” he admitted. I nodded. 

“Then I'll be sure to come over more often. And if you find yourself missing home, tell me and I'll come. How about we head back and cuddle up? Watch a movie or something?” You offered, knowing snuggling was his ultimate weakness as well as comfort. He nodded in agreement. You stood first, offering your hand to him. He frowned, looking up at you. 

“Those are your favorite pants, why did you come sit here?” He asked. You shrugged. 

“Cause you're more important to me.” 

“More important than that stupid bird plushie?” His eyes narrowed. You smiled at him. He held such a grudge towards the plush, as you chose one time to have it in your arms while you slept. “Even more than the plushie,” you smiled. He nodded, smiling and grabbed your hand standing up. He pulled you into his chest, hugging you. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Of course. Let's get going.” 

Hand in hand, you all walked back to his place. Once there, you both changed into dry clothes before ordering some food and picking a movie to watch. You had fallen asleep in his arms, too comfortable to not fall asleep. He smiled down at you, thankful that his bride had returned to him. Thankful that he still had part of his home. 

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Sylus

You waltzed into Sylus's office, excited to tell him about your promotion at work. But as soon as you entered, you froze mid sentence, looking at the sight before you. Your boyfriend, Sylus, sitting behind his desk, holding his head in-between his hands. When he looked up at you, his eyes were red, a few tears streaming down his face. He immediately looked away, praying you hadn't noticed. “Sy, are you,” you paused, stunned. “Crying?” 

“No,” he spoke, voice hoarse. You carefully walked over to him, as if afraid to scare him by moving too suddenly. He was lying of course, tears evident on his face. Moving behind the desk with him, you awkwardly hugged him, lightly pushing his face into your chest as your arms wrapped around him. 

“You know, you always tell me it's okay to cry and it doesn't make me any less strong, don't you know it's the same for you? It's okay to cry. Even when you're the big bad boss of Onychinus,” you whispered. He nodded, biting back tears. You stayed as you were, allowing whatever happened to happen. He was unsuccessful in holding back his tears, crying softly into your chest. It was still a shock to you. Sylus was the definition of someone who presented as if nothing could make him cry. It didn't bother you at all, it was just a surprise. Your concern though, was what had happened to make him cry. But you could ask later, and you did, when his tears stopped and he wriggled out of your grasp to grab a tissue. You watched him carefully, observing him. His nose and eyes red, expression downcast. It was unfamiliar to you. You had never seen or heard of him crying. “Wanna talk about it?” You asked. He licked his lips, unsure. 

“If you don't mind,” he finally decided. 

“Not at all,” you answered, moving to sit on his desk in front of him. He smiled softly up at you before taking a deep breath. 

“Some dickhead went on a rampage in the N-109 zone. Slaughtered hundreds of men, women and children for fun,” he spat. “About a year ago, I ran into a child walking around on the street. She had lost her parents and I surprised everyone by supporting her. I found a place for her to live, I visited often to make sure she was doing okay and being taken care of. She was on her way here when she was killed in front of my eyes. I couldn't do anything to save her,” he finished, looking down and biting his lip. You were stunned at the news and furious that something so horrible had happened. 

“Do you need me to go kill this guy? Because I will,” you offered. He chuckled at that. 

“He's been taken care of. Got what he asked for, I made sure of that,” he informed me. You nodded. 

“So it's the loss of this girl?” you carefully asked. He nodded. 

“It's weird and even surprised me, but she kinda felt like a daughter,” he admitted. Not knowing what else to do, you stood up and hugged him. 

“I'm sorry that happened. Truly,” you told him. He gave a slight nod and hugged you back, pulling you in closer. 

“I should have gotten there faster. I didn't know she was there. If I was quicker she could have lived,” he whispered. 

“You don't know that for sure. You didn't know she was there. There was no way to even know she was there. You did all you could, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault,” you soothed. 

“It feels like it is,” he admitted. 

“I know. But you weren't the one to take her life, you did all you could. It may be a bit too soon to think about, but do you want to hold a service for her? You said she lost her parents, so there's not really anyone to do a service,” you offered. 

“That'd be nice. Luke and Kieran have her,” he informed me, words getting softer as the reality continued to hit him. You nodded and moved to place your hands on his cheeks, guiding his lips to yours and pressing a quick kiss to them. “I'll plan it, just tell me what she liked,” you smiled softly at him. He smiled back, sadly. 

“Okay. Use my card for it all. She deserves the best service we can get.” 

“And the best she will. Wanna go get cleaned up?” You asked, he nodded and you guided him to his bathroom, showering with him both literally and with love. Making sure to scrub off any remnants of his fight and loss. You could tell he was still processing it all, upset but not fully grasping the situation. Once clean, you forced him to eat some food before getting into bed with him. Usually, he'd hold you, but today was different. He half laid down on you, head resting on your chest as he listened to your heartbeat. A few tears fell every so often, but he no longer tried to hide them, the grief hitting him. You stayed with him, whispering words of comfort to him, rubbing his back. 

It wouldn't be easy, but with you by his side, Sylus would hold the perfect service for the little girl and process his grief, thankful he had you by his side throughout the whole thing- whether he was strong or weak. 

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Xavier 

When you woke up you were immediately confused, the unfamiliar sterile white ceiling staring back at you. You tried to move, but nothing happened. So you took in the surrounding sounds. The steady beep of a monitor, the sound of a distant fan and talking. You figured you must be in a hospital. It was then that you heard a sniffle, making you blink. You couldn't remember what happened. Who was here with you? Were they crying? Your eyes finally moved, glancing to the side and finding your boyfriend, Xavier. His eyes were red and puffy as he cried. He still had blood from wanderers splattered on his uniform. He looked like he had been through hell and back…maybe he had. “Xav,” you managed to croak out. His eyes widened as he saw you were awake. 

“You're awake. How do you feel? Does it hurt anywhere? I'll get the nurse,” he rambled, standing up. 

“What happened?” You asked, ignoring his questions. He froze in place and returned to your bedside, gently grabbing one of your hands. His hands trembled slightly, making you grow more concerned. 

“I-im sorry. I couldn't get there in time, I was trying to warn you, but I failed and you were hit. Bad. I thought I was going to lose you and it was all my fault. All because I couldn't get to you in time. I'm so sorry,” he spoke, tears falling once again. You managed to shake your head. 

“It's okay Xavie. I know you tried. You did everything you could, I'm sure of it. I'm okay now. You're not gonna lose me,” you comforted him. You wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, to hold him and comfort him while he cried. So you tried, gasping in pain when you tried to move. 

“Don't move yet, you'll make it worse,” he scolded you immediately. 

“I wanna hold you,” you admitted. He frowned slightly before getting up and laying in the hospital bed next to you, his arms carefully wrapping around you so he wouldn't cause any further pain. “Are you okay?” You asked him. 

“I don't know,” he answered honestly. “I don't know what I would have done if I lost you.” 

“You'd move on and live your life of course,” you told him. 

“No,” he firmly stated. “I can't live my life without you. I promise I'll be faster next time.” 

“There's no need to beat yourself up about this Xavie. Part of our job is risking our lives. It was an accident. It'd take a lot more to end me.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise. I'm not leaving you any time soon, okay?” He nodded and hid his face in your neck. You managed to gain enough strength to lift your hand and rub his back, comforting him. 

The nurse came in and he refused to move, which the nurse eventually accepted, mostly because you said you were fine for now. She asked a few questions and took the vitals she could manage to get without Xavier in the way, before leaving and informing you she'd be back later. When she left you placed your hands on Xavier's face, guiding him to look at you. You wiped away a few more tears with your thumb. “I've never seen you cry so much,” you admitted. 

“Only because it's you,” he whispered, nuzzling into your hand. You hummed in acknowledgement. “We should get some hot pot when I'm released to cheer you up,” you mused. 

“If it's what you want,” he agreed, making you pout at him. 

“What I want is for you to cheer up. Of course it's okay to cry, but that doesn't mean I like seeing you cry. I want you to always be happy.” 

“Then don't ever leave me,” he said seriously. 

“I don't plan on it,” you smiled at him before softly kissing his lips. 

“Good. Now get some more rest so you can heal up and come home,” he instructed. You nodded, moving your arms to snuggle closer to him, allowing his warmth to lull you to sleep. 

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Zayne 

“Guess who's favorite patient is here?! Oh shit,” you suddenly stopped, still holding the door to Zayne's office, freezing in place. His head was in his hands, glasses thrown onto his desk, his hair messy. What really threw you off though, was when he looked up, fresh tears falling down his face. You hadn't seen him cry since you were children, crying over scrapes from concrete. He quickly wiped them away, unsure what to say. You were the same, still frozen in place. Once your brain decided to process that your boyfriend was crying, you hesitantly closed the door behind you and walked over to his desk. He watched uncomfortably. You weren't meant to see him in this state. Hell, he rarely was in a state like this, no one but him should see. “I- you- are,” you attempted to formulate a question, sighing when nothing that made sense came out. “Are you okay? What happened?” You finally asked. Your heart clenched at his reaction, his face welling up in pain before a sob left his throat. Concerned, you quickly made your way around his desk, pulling him into a hug. He buried his face in your stomach, gripping onto you tightly. You had no words, still stunned by the sight, hands instinctively rubbing his back. 

You stayed like that until your back grew sore from the position, Zayne's tears stopping. He broke the hug and leaned back into his chair, apologizing. “I'm sorry you had to see me like that.”

“Don't be. Are you okay though?” You asked, knowing something was obviously wrong. He nodded. 

“Yes. I guess I just got a bit overwhelmed. With the wanderer attack I haven't been home in days. I've barely slept or eaten. It's surgery after surgery, but I can't just not perform. That's someone's life. It hasn't been this back and forth in a while,” he explained. You nodded. 

“Is there no one else who can do the surgeries? You need to rest,” you chided him. 

“There wasn't. There is now. Fucking 72 hours later,” he breathed frustratedly. 

“That explains why you hadn't answered my texts,” you mused. “I figured you were busy, but not this busy to where you haven't slept in days.” He nodded. 

“Can we go home?” He asked, looking up at you. You smiled and nodded, bringing a hand to wipe away a stray tear. “I was going to leave after gathering myself, but you've already seen the worst of it.” 

“I'm glad I did in a way. Of course, I hate seeing you like this, but I want to be there for you. Overwhelmed and crying or stoic and loving. I wanna see all of it. Want me to get your things?” You offered. He smiled and shook his head, his hand guiding the hand that was once on his cheek to his lips, pressing a kiss to your hand. 

“I've got it. Thank you my love.” He stood and grabbed his things, packing away whatever he needed. You grabbed his hand and led him out of his office. 

When you got to his home, you immediately instructed him to wash up while you cooked him something. He agreed, not bothering to argue, though a shower was definitely what he wanted at that moment. Before cooking though, you quickly slipped out, walking down the road to his favorite dessert spot and getting some sweets for him. The woman at the counter recognized you and immediately got together your usual order- filled with your and Zayne's favorites. 

When you got back to his place you snuck back in, glancing to make sure he was still out of sight. Thankfully he was, opting to take a much needed long and hot shower. After placing the bag of sweets on the counter, you got to work. Zayne left the shower some time later, announcing his presence by hugging you from behind while you cooked, the scent of his body wash filling your nostrils. “Feel better?” You asked. He hummed in agreement. “Sleepy?” You chuckled. He made a noise of agreement, muffled as he hid his face in your shoulder, taking in your scent. He was relieved to finally be home. “I got you something,” you smiled down at the food you were making. 

“You did? When?” He asked. You nodded to the bag on the counter. 

“While you were in the shower. Thought you could use some sweets.” 

“That's an understatement,” he chuckled. When the food was done, the two of you ate, you doing most of the talking as Zayne was tired. He was happy to listen though. He could listen to you talk about your day for hours. You could be reading a dictionary and he'd happily listen to every word. After eating, you did the dishes, slapping Zayne's hand away when he tried to help, instructing him to head to bed first. With a kiss pressed to your cheek, he listened. 

Once done with dishes and getting yourself ready for bed, you joined Zayne, easily snuggling up next to him. He was half asleep, but still managed to thank you. “Thank you for this. You always know exactly what I need. All I wanted was to come home to you and sleep,” he admitted. 

“I would agree, though my days haven't been quite as intense. I'm happy to take care of you. I'll ask off tomorrow so we can spend all day in bed,” you offered. 

“You don't need to do that,” he insisted. 

“Too late,” you smiled. “Get some rest, I love you Zayne.” 

“Sleep well my love,” he mumbled out, falling asleep now that he has said everything he wanted to. 

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Caleb 

You wanted to surprise Caleb. He was going to be in town and you hadn't seen him in a while. So instead of meeting him at your place, you decided to show up at his work. You were able to get through security pretty easily, as Caleb had brought you a few times when you visited. You excitedly knocked at his office door before opening it and stepping in. “Surprise!” You called out, a smile immediately turning into a frown when you saw him holding his arm, wincing as tears fell. You ran over to him, gently holding his mechanical arm and looking it over. “Caleb, are you okay? Where does it hurt?” You asked him. 

“It's nothing,” he answered, stopping his tears. It was the same as when they were kids. 

“How many times do I have to tell you it's not nothing if you're crying? That it's okay to cry in front of me?” You scolded him. “Now tell me where it hurts.” 

“I know. But I'm supposed to be there for you, not the other way around. I don't need to be taken care of,” he argued. 

“Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes. That's how a relationship works. You're there for me and now I'm here for you, so stop hiding,” you sighed. He looked down, avoiding your gaze. 

“It just got an upgrade. They usually hurt, but not this bad,” he softly explained. 

“Do you think there was a malfunction? Should I notify your doctor?” You asked. He shrugged. 

“I'm fine,” he got out, just before wincing again, his hand going to grab his shoulder. You frowned and picked up the phone on his desk, calling for the doctor. 

“Let me take care of you for once,” you told him after putting the phone down, hand reaching to wipe away a few tears that he failed to hold back. “Losing an arm is reason enough to cry anyway. You don't have to pretend it doesn't hurt for me. I don't want you to do that at all.” He nodded, listening to your words. You wrapped your arms around him in a hug, patting his hair until there was a knock at the door. You moved to open the door, letting in two men dressed in lab coats. Caleb explained what was happening and the two worked together to take his vitals and work on his mechanical arm. You brought a chair next to Caleb, holding his hand as they worked. He tried his best to make it seem painless, but failed, wincing every now and then. After some time, the men left. “Better?” You asked him, rubbing his arm. He nodded. 

“Yeah, sorry you had to see that,” he apologized. 

“Apologize again and I'm leaving you. You were this bad when we were kids, how have you not changed at all? I cried all the time in front of you and still do and you don't think I'm weak, right?” You asked. 

“Of course not. You're the strongest hunter I know,” he scoffed. 

“Then why do you think crying is going to make you weak? You're still the strongest commander I know. Getting used to a mechanical arm can't be easy, not to mention, it's newer tech. There's going to be errors.” 

“Yeah I guess,” he half heartedly agreed. You sighed, knowing there wasn't really a way to convince him. You decided on cheering him up the same way you did as when you were kids, knocking the hat off his head and throwing it across the room. “Wha-” he began laughing. You shrugged at him. 

“Only way I know to cheer you up. Should I continue?” You threatened with a grin. He shrugged and you pounced, immediately your fingers finding the ticklish spot on his sides, attacking him. He bursted into laughter, attempting to push you away from him. Unfortunately for him, you were much stronger now than when you were kids. It wasn't until you felt the effects of his evol pushing you away, you were forced to stop. “That's cheating!” You yelled at him. 

“I'm doing what has to be done. There are other ways to cheer me up now, pipsqueak,” he grinned, standing from his chair. His hand found your cheek, caressing it as he grinned at you. “Like this,” he whispered before leaning in and kissing your lips. 

“Such a cheater,” you muttered, face flushed. He laughed and you felt the effects of his evol wear off. He wrapped his arms around you into a hug. 

“Thank you though. For being there and not telling me I'm a wimp for crying over a little pain,” he whispered into your ear. You punched his chest lightly, pulling back to look at him.

“A little bit of pain seems like an understatement, but I won't argue further. You're welcome though.” 

“Promise not to tell anyone about seeing me cry? I've threatened both of my doctors,” he admitted. 

“So you crying and being in pain happens often?!” You exclaimed. 

“I wouldn't say often-” 

“Why didn't you tell me? I would have made sure to come to all the appointments I could have,” you interrupted, disappointed in him a bit. 

“I'm sorry. I was stupid and truly believed you'd think I was a baby, still kinda worried about that if I'm honest,” he admitted. You crossed your arms on your chest. 

“I don't think that. Never will. You've always been way stronger than me. Promise you'll start telling me when you have appointments?” You asked. He nodded. 

“As long as you promise not to tell people I cry,” he agreed. 

“Deal. Now can we go spend the weekend together? A new arcade opened up down the road from my apartment.” Caleb smiled at you before grabbing his coat (and the hat that was thrown across the room). He took your hand and led you out of his office, ready to spend time with his favorite person.

[sirxlla]

OKAY IVE SEEN SOO MANY BATBOYS SHOWING READER THEIR SCARS

BUT

Reader showing batboys their scars!!!

Could be from anything preferably past abuse something

Showing Him Your Scars (Batboys)

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

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Prompt: above ^^^^

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

Dick: Working together on the force for so long allowed the both of you to get close. Your doctor recommended that you have someone take care of you and the Captian told Dick it's his job to make sure I won't do anything stupid or try to heal from a stab wound you got in your arm, it's nothing bad, it'll heal in time but its making doing just about anything a pain in the ass including changing.

"I can help, Y/N. Let me. It's got to be painful. Let me help you change...Look, I'll even close my eyes if you want." Dick closed his eyes to show you he was honest, even covering his eyes like a kid which made you smile.

"No, it's fine, Dick. I'd rather you have your eyes open to do this. The last thing we need to do is irritate this wound any further." You said before Dick uncovered and opened his eyes and gently guided your shirt off making sure to be incredibly careful of the wound on your arm. His eyes scanned all the other scars on your torso; he's surprised at the sheer amount of scars you have.

"I think you might look more badass than I do." He gently traces a scar on your back. "I remember almost all of these, I didn't know your wounds were this bad."

"Yeah, but you know...sometimes you can't stop just for the sake of it; bad guys need to get caught."

"Yeah but not at the expense of you. You're way too valuable to keep getting hurt"

"Yeah? To who?" You asked with a bit of anger; you felt like you were always taking care of everyone else, but no one took care of you, and Dick answered you with one single word that meant everything.

"Me." His blue eyes gazed into with nothing but pure sincerity.

Jason: Jason was always nervous about anyone seeing any of his scars; once you happened to see them, he froze in nervousness. Would you think he's weird or ugly because of the scars that litter his skin? As you noticed the worry in his eyes, you very slowly brought your eyes to meet his as you slipped your shirt off.

Jason's eyes widen as he sees the scar that runs down the middle of your chest and disappears between your breasts.

"I had open heart surgery when I was a teenager. I used to hate it, but without it, I'd be dead or a much different person. Scars tell a story, a path to now." You said as you reached your hand out to touch his autopsy scar; it's so similar to yours but different. Just as beautiful.

"Can- Can I?" Jason asks as he reaches his hand out slowly to the scar on your chest. "It- It's beautiful."

"Well, if mine are, then yours have to be too. They're pretty badass." You smiled and showed him a few smaller ones that you'd gotten for dumb stuff but the way you embraced them made him feel so much better about his. You gently kissed the scar on his chest and in time he'd see his scars the same way you see yours.

Bruce: Anyone who's been around Bruce for any amount of time knows how many scars he had. Little did he know you had plenty of your own, so one day, as you were over at his place, you had asked him about scars and what he'd think if you had some.

"I suppose that depends on the scars, Love." His blue eyes gazed into yours with a bit of worry. "You have scars?"

"Don't judge okay?" You asked as you lifted your shirt and showed him the scars on your back; they looked like burns. Bruce's fingers grazed over what appeared at a closer glance to be cigarette burns.

"I wanted to show you before you found out when I was changing or sex or something...My dad he- he used to put them out on my back when I was a kid. Every guy I've ever been with just kinda laughs a bit."

"They laughed? Darling, this isn't something to laugh at; I mean, if you want to, then by all means, that's fine, but no one else should laugh at your pain." His fingers graze over them gently; he doesn't know what to say, so he says the first thing on his mind. "They don't distract from your beauty for even a second."

Your shoulders fall as you relax against his touch; he isn't blaming you or laughing or making you think you're ugly for the ugly actions of your father. He's amazing, he's reassuring and he's one of the best men you've ever known.

Tim: "What's the scar above your lip?" He asks you randomly as he rests his head in your lap, looking up at you.

"What sca- Oh! Um...It's super stupid, but when I was a kid, I liked to dance on the coffee table at my Grandmas and I busted my lip open...Grandma said I barely cried, and the next day, I was back to dancing on the table." You laughed as the memories flashed behind your eyelids.

"You never told me you were such a good dancer." Tim smiled back as he teased you.

"No, I was awful." You pulled down your shirt a little to show off the scar on your collarbone. "This was from ballet class, I did too many spins and smacked into the mirror. There's so many all over, just my clumsiness or dancing or both."

"So no dancing for you, I suppose. Either that or I get some really thick shoes, and then you can just stand on my feet, and I can do all the work." Tim teased a little as his eyes scanned your scars slowly as he took a moment to imagine the things you told him.

Damian: Training in the League isn't for the weak; real swords are used and real wounds are created. Damian knew you probably had several scars but you'd never showed them to him. He was curious and wondered if the number he had might be similar to yours.

"Can I see your scars?" He asked while the both of you were spending quality time reading together.

"My scars?"

"Yeah, I just wanna see if we have about the same amount."

"Yeah, I don't mind. I guess?" You pulled your long-sleeve shirt off as he pulled his off. Damian's eyes widened as he noticed how you had at least triple the scars that he did from training.

"They didn't put Lazarus water on the deep ones?" They had usually put Lazarus water on Damian's wounds if they were deep enough, he thought that they did that for everyone.

"Only if it hits bone." You corrected him, they never wasted a drop of Lazarus unless it was life for death for the regular soldiers in the League.

"Oh." Damian was surprised but also not. His grandfather wouldn't have wanted the Demon's Head to be littered with scars; he needed to look like he was better than them all. Damian runs his fingers over your scars on your back and he made himself a promise as well as you. "Things are gonna be different when I'm leading the League."

-> Masterlist

-> Send me prompts if you'd like

[metranart]

GOJO & NANAMI x Reader (Shameless Smut💦)

Nanami sighed. He'd promised to go straight home after his mission, but the tone of your voice, that soft cooing somewhere between mischievous and tempting, made him stumble.

"Hey, guys... I just got back from a mission," you said, with a smile that spoke of secrets and promises. "Care to join me in the common room?"

Nothing else was necessary. Gojo lit up like a kid with a new toy. Nanami, for his part, let out a weary sigh, one that couldn't hide the slight blush creeping up his neck.

"Sure," he replied, his tone deeper than usual. "Suddenly, I'm not so tired anymore."

Gojo clicked his tongue with a cheeky grin. "Do you realize she has more power over you than coffee, Nana~?"

"Shut up, Satoru," Nanami retorted, but he couldn't help but grin as he followed you around like a puppy wagging its tail, excited by Mom's attention.

The common room was empty, lit only by a dim light. You lay sideways on the couch, legs crossed, as if you dominated the space. They sat beside you, one on either side, trapping you between two intense and completely opposite presences.

"You know," Gojo said, leaning toward you with his feline grin. "I love it when you come in like that, with that... dangerousenergy."

Nanami leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully stroking his chin with one hand as his eyes slowly scanned you. "You're a bad influence."

"Me?" you said with feigned innocence, leaning close enough so that your lips almost touched Nanami's neck. “I merely made you a harmless invitation...”

"Harmless, my..." Gojo let the sentence hang in the air as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you onto his lap. "You're going to have to take responsibility for what you cause."

Nanami also approached, his strong chest pressed against your back like a leech, his voice so low it made your skin prickle. "I hope you're not thinking of running away now... since you have us here, you'd better take good care of us."

The atmosphere became dense, charged with a gentle but constant electricity. There was no rush. Just intense glances, accidental touches, and knowing smiles that promised a long... and memorable night.

"So," you whispered, trapped in his arms, between warmth and mischief, "should I worry... or enjoy it?"

Gojo laughed, amused. "Both, precious."

Nanami nodded, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his eyes. “But we promise you'll remember it.”

And so, amid laughter, caresses, and glances that spoke louder than words, the common room became the perfect setting for something much more intimate than a simple conversation.

You have to bite the back of your hand to keep from whimpering when Satoru's mouth lands on your bundle of nerves. It wasn't enough for him to make you cum on his fingers; he wanted the taste of you dripping over his lips and chin, a mixture of saliva and cum that Gojo found sweeter than any dessert.

"S-Satoru..."

You still don't know what it was about this display of depraved voracity that was driving you so damn feral. It was so silly, but at the same time, so effortlessly sexy. GOD, you wanted this six-eyed prodigy so badly.

"Eyes on me, (Y/N)." Nanami grunted, a hint of possessiveness and envy lacing his tone as he cursed and sweated, and he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away as slowly guided you down to kiss the shape of his swollen cock against the wrinkled fabric of his suit pants. "Do you think you can handle us?"

Hearing Gojo chuckle against your folds, and the blush that steals your cheeks is more than enough for your hands to unzip his pants and pull out that massive piece of cock that juts out like an obelisk over your face. Nanami looks at you curiously, and you refuse to moan like a whore when out of the blue Gojo captures your clit between his soft lips. The stoic blond smiled amused, a hint of sympathy in those honey-colored eyes, and suddenly all you can think about is making him pay for underestimating your ability to make him cum...

"Not underestimating your opponents is the first lesson we were taught, Nanami."

The tip of his cock brushed against your tongue, and FUCK! Nanami's whole body shuddered as if he'd received electric shocks. Gojo laughed again, and you licked the roundness of the tip like a lollipop. Nanami watching you closely, breaths coming out labored and heavy.

"...The back-k of your throat i-is so damn s-soft..."

Gojo chuckled, completely enraptured, enjoying every minute of Nanami's lack of self-control and how he’d mastered the art of melting you just with the effort of his nimble mouth.

"Just like in high school,” Gojo praised, devouring your soul though licks and sucks, “Good old days."

Gojo smirked and looked down, Nanami's cock firmly embedded between your esophagus and tongue. Your beautiful eyes finally met Gojo's lovesick gaze, eyes filled with a sick devotion that reminds you of a younger, less stressed Satoru Gojo.

"I told you,” Nanami rasped between heady groans, “he’s still your number one fan, (Y/N)." Nanami couldn't help but chuckle, amused by Gojo's love-stricken gaze, unaware that he has the same damn gaze at that moment.

‘I am.’ Gojo mouthed to you, and you melt even more for him, if that’s even possible.

Both end up knitting their eyebrows together like trying to understand a physics problem while, with all your concentration, you suck Nanami's cock so deep and greedy that your own juices splatter Gojo's face. 

An orchestra of moans, grunts and unbridled pleasure bounces off the walls of the room and right then, you realize.... that sometimes you can’t think about anything else besides how hard can Gojo fuck you against the nearest surface, or despite what everyone else might think, how much you know Nanami desperately needs his balls drained at least every other day, or how sexy Gojo's voice can get while raggedly gasping your name.  

These two sorcerers have become invaluable to your happiness, both are precious to you. You've already lost Geto and it's a regret that burns in you to this day, so you try to get on your knees, on your back, on your tummy or however they need it, to give them the reward both deserve, over and over and over and OVER again.

✏️ Artwork for this Drabble / 🔞 NSFW Artwork

[magical-awesome-kid]

I looked at the councilwoman in disbelief.

I was now twenty, having spent most of my life studying and learning, practicing, mastering magic. I could now down a young dragon, though my parents and teachers had always said that was barely the standard for a student my age.

And here I was, applying for the Master’s exam, and the magistrate had to tell me this.

“I’m… the youngest?”

“By a long shot.” She said, her smile confused. She was in her mid thirties, maybe a little later. I’d honed my senses to detect the faintest signs of illusion magic, so this was how she actually looked.

“Why, yes. Most people don’t take this exam until they’re in their thirties.” She nodded. “I only took mine five years ago, when I was forty-five.”

“Wait, you’re fifty??? I thought you were thirty-five!”

“Oh! You’re a charmer.” She waved her hand. “Good genes and a few good skin potions for the wrinkles, but, yes, and I was considered quite young for my time then. Most mages your age are applying for schools and discovering their specialties, after all.”

Specialties? I’d taken the coursework at seven.

Because that is what it takes to be a good wizard. My mother had tutted.

Not even good. Just basic. My teachers had added.

“So, hypothetically, when do most people start studying magic…?”

She hummed. “I think most teenagers begin to dabble, but most people do not seriously commit until they are in their twenties. Magic has a way of extending one’s life, after all, and life experience often is a large part of discovery and Magic.”

I felt my soul shatter in my chest. All the years of lies. Of telling me that only the wealthy could have magic, and therefore the most powerful must hone their magic young, lest they lose it.

I’d never gotten to just be because they’d expected me to be a magnificent wizard.

They used me.

Something trailed down my face.

I reached up and found tears on my cheeks. I hadn’t cried in front of someone in so long…

“Oh, oh no, honey….”

The interview changed very rapidly after.

From the long desk and hard chair, we’d moved to a small side room with squishy chairs, walls of books, and a warm atmosphere that welcomed someone in. The woman dried my eyes and handed me water, allowing me to collect myself.

I told her of what I’d been told. Of what I experienced.

Her face darkened.

“I must admit, I had heard of your family.” She admitted. “Your parents always painted you as a naturally gifted child, that you mastered magic like it was breathing.”

It hadn’t been. It was gruesome work.

By the end, I just felt disgusted. They expected me to take the exam and take a place in the Magical Ministry, rise the ranks, just as a half-way decent wizard was expected to.

And I wanted nothing more than to crawl back in time and shake my younger self, tell them to use that Fly spell and escape out the window, go play with the town children instead of being locked in the tower.

I spilled my guts because I didn’t know what else to do.

“If I may.” The councilwoman, Grace, said as she set her coffee to the side. “For all that magic is grand, Chronomancy has always been finicky at best.” She joked, and my lips perked some at that. “While we can’t turn back the clock, we can do something going forward.”

“Like what?”

She waved her hand, and a folder flew off the shelf and flew to her. “You are the same age as someone in University, and I happen to know quite a few school professors who wouldn’t mind adding a student to their ranks. Meet people your own age, explore your interests both in and outside of the magical sciences.

“And, if you are worried about being known, I do have one other option.” She pulled out a small slip, handing it over.

It was a posting from the Adventurer’s Guild.

“I spent my latter twenties traveling with a crew of Adventurers.” She admitted. “It was like nothing I’d done before, and it was the kind of time I needed to find who I wanted to be. I’m still friends with many of them to this day. I can help you find a guild, a team, whatever you want to do. Most level E adventurers are in their teens, but I think I can get you in as a D or C without revealing too much about your magical past. Anyone there would accept you just as what you want to present.”

I took the slip. There was a crude drawing on it of a warrior, a cleric, a rogue, and a mage. The note has a call for new adventurers.

Adventuring had always been a field of tight contention among the wealthy and powerful. Adventurers were largely civilians to start, and, while they generally followed the rules of the land, they rarely bowed unless it was warranted to their morals. Powerful adventurers would rise to attend events amongst nobility, and they oft stepped on every unsaid rule without worry.

My own parents had often spoken of Adventurers as annoyances, only being polite because it was a means to an end, and even then, some Adventurers just did not care.

If nothing else, it would absolutely piss them off.

“Can you tell me more about Adventuring?”

Learning magic is an arduous journey, requiring sacrifice and dedication. Your parents made you give up your childhood to study magic—only after completing your studies do you learn that most other mages actually choose to start in adulthood.

[pome-seed]

Hello there! Hopefully I can supply your demand for a Bucky Barnes request haha. I agree and love that you also think that Bucky’s hair is so pretty when it’s really long so could you please write a one shot/imagine (I’m awful with fanfic terminology so whatever you want to do, do that haha); where Bucky is married to the reader and he has become very interested in taking care of his long hair? The reader would be the only other person besides Bucky who can touch his hair of course hahaha. If this inspires you to write, then perfect! But if not or you just don’t like this idea feel free to just skip over this completely. Hope you’re doing well!

Pairing: Married!Bucky Barnes x Married!Reader

Summary: An intimate night in with Bucky, bathed in candlelight, you teach him how to care for his long hair.

Word Count: 1.5k

Authors Note: Thank you anon, I thought this was a very cute idea!! I hope I made something you could enjoy. <3

Low candle light flickered at the edge of the tub, bathing the room in a soft glow. Water sloshed gently as you spread the tiny suds down Bucky’s chest. He rolled his head back onto your shoulder, a lazy grin on his lips. 

“What flavor is this one?” His voice rumbled quietly in the intimate space. 

“It's a scent, not flavor,” you teased, shifting your knees wider around Bucky’s hips. “Rose and citrus.” You hummed, brushing your lips over his temple.

He hummed appreciatively, his fingers dancing up and down your calves beneath the water. “Scent, right.” His eyes slid closed. “You buy too many of those” 

You pinched his chest, arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. He snickered quietly. “Don’t poke fun at my hobbies.”

“Soap is your hobby?” He lifted a brow.

“Is it a crime to like things that smell good?” You huffed.

“Mm, no,” he shifted, raking his long hair back with his fingers. “Cause I like you, and you smell delicious,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your throat. 

You rolled your eyes and dragged your lips over his in a soft kiss. It was nights like these that you looked forward to. Nothing complicated, nothing to worry about, just each other, together. 

You used to think there was nothing sexy or cute about bathing with someone else, considering how awkward it could be. But that was until you met Bucky. And it shifted. It wasn’t about being sexy, or desirable, it was about intimacy. About being close and vulnerable and relaxed.

And Bucky always seemed to love taking a bath with you. It gave him an excuse to lay back in your arms and tease your collections of bubbly soap. 

“Alright, sit up.” You gently pushed him. He groaned, sliding further into the water. “Up, up.”

He sat up a little straighter, making the water dip and trickle. You raked your eyes over the expanse of his muscular back before forcing yourself to focus. 

You ran your fingers through his long dark hair, the edges almost meeting his shoulders. His eyes rolled back as he suppressed a shiver. He always loved when you played with his hair. 

Years ago, he cut his hair short, nearly buzzed. It was an act of freedom and self assurance. It made him feel clean and new. It was different, and it was his. 

And then he met you. You always had this habit of dragging your nails down the base of his neck, through the short cropped hairs. You loved to pick and tug at the little hairs as they grew longer. 

Bucky once heard that hair holds memories. That fact used to scare him. Until he met you. Where he found safety in your hands and love in your heart. And slowly, he started growing his hair out again. 

In some way, he liked the idea of his body holding the memory of you.

You rubbed shampoo into your palms, watching the suds grow. “Close your eyes.” You whispered from behind him, pushing your fingers into his thick locks of hair. He hummed quietly and tilted his head back for you. 

You massaged the bubbles into his scalp, gently scratching. He always loved when you washed his hair. You pulled his head back a little further and scooped water into your palms to wash out the soap.

“I should start charging you for this,” You smirked.

“I dunno ‘f I can afford you.” He snickered when you tugged at his hair. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You poured a generous amount of conditioner into your hands, then stroked it into the ends of his hair. 

“Everything I could ever say about you is a compliment.” He started to turn to look at you but you turned his face back forward. 

“Getting sweet with me?” You shook your hands into the water to wash off the residue of the conditioner as you let it sit. 

“I’m trying.” He huffed. You chuckled, leaning closer to drag your lips down his shoulder. He hummed quietly, arching his neck to give you room. 

You rested your forehead against his back, taking a moment to savor the warmth of the bath. His palms slid up to your knees, fingers tracing lines on your soft skin. 

“Sweetheart?” He called to you, smiling at the crown of your head. 

“Mm?”

“Fallin’ asleep on me?” He stroked your outer thigh.

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head. You pressed your face to the broad expanse of his muscular back. “You smell good.” You muttered against his skin. 

He chuckled, the vibrations traveling into your chest from where you pressed into him. “Citrus and rose.”

“Mm, great taste.” You whispered, dragging your palms around his waist to tickle over his stomach. You trickled warm water over his sternum.

“Mhm,” He hummed.

You sighed, pressing a quick kiss to his nape before pulling back. “Tilt your head back, baby.” You instructed. He always listened to you so easily. You began rinsing out the length of his hair, detangling the strands with your fingers. 

By the time you were finished, the candles were beginning to flicker. Bucky reached for a little tub of hair product on the floor. He started reading the ingredients while you combed his locks. 

Recently, Bucky had become increasingly interested in learning to style his long hair. Usually, he just toweled it off and let it go, or pulled it up in a short pony tail. Always a little frizzy, always a little tangled. But that was just Bucky.

But one day, he started sticking around to watch you do your hair after a bath; his eyes sparked with curiosity. You tried not to smile, but you loved how innocently wonderful he found things, sometimes. 

So you started showing him your hair care steps, and told him all about the different hair products you use. 

“Mkay baby, you’re good to go.” You whispered, shimmying around him to stand. Bucky tilted his head back to look at you, water streaking down your stomach and dripping down your hips. He curved a hand around the back of your knee and pressed a kiss to your thigh.

You giggled, shaking him off as you grabbed your towel. “C’mon, lemme show you what to do.”

He smiled and climbed out after you. He didn’t bother with a towel at first, water pooling at his feet. You shrieked when he yanked you back against his chest. You giggled as he peppered kisses along your throat as you busied your hands with finding a comb.

“You better get a towel before you flood this bathroom,” You scolded gently. 

He groaned, biting your shoulder playfully before pulling back. He yanked down his towel and patted himself down, then wrapped it around his hips. “Alright, what now?” He looked at you through the mirror.

“Okay, so this is a leave-in conditioner. It keeps your hair soft and makes it hold styles a little easier. You have little waves in your hair, so I think it’ll look nice.” You handed him the tub of cream.

He nodded thoughtfully. “How much do I use?” He popped off the lid.

“Not much, just like, about a dimes worth.” You watched him rub the little scoop of product into his palms. He followed your instructions and raked it into the ends of his hair. 

“You can scrunch your hair a bit to accentuate your waves, if you wanna see it get more defined.” You told him, smiling at the little furrow in his brow. He seemed so focused. 

Once he was finished, he looked so proud. 

“What next?” He wiped his palms on the towel that hung low on his hips. 

“Well, if you wanna use the hair dryer, I recommend using a little heat protectant- I have these two.” You pulled out a sample size spray bottle, and your usual product. “Just spray an even coat.”

He nodded and plucked your usual spray from the counter. You stepped back so he wouldn't spray you. “Then I comb it, right?” He took the brush from your hand. “So the product is even,” he muttered to himself.

You bit back a smile and nodded. “Mhm, just right.” You watched him, his focused frown pulling softly as he brushed his hair, then scrunched it. You loved how dedicated he was to the small things. 

Once he was done, you showed him the best way to dry his hair so it wouldn’t get frizzy. You skipped over any gel or mousse since you would be heading to bed soon after.

While he dried his hair, you slipped your rings back on and went to change. Bucky didn’t take his ring off in the bath. He refused to ever be without it. 

The idea made your stomach flutter, even after all that time.

Life with him was still new and fresh and beautiful, no matter how much time passed. 

Bucky reaffirmed that as he scooped you into his arms and flattened you out on the bed that night, a grin on his lips as he kissed down your collar. 

“‘S it look good?” He asked, peeking up at you as he pulled your towel loose. His hair, still a bit damp, was fluffy and soft with gentle waves. 

“Looks perfect.” You brushed your thumb along the stubble on his jaw. “Always perfect.”

A/N: I love reading your requests tehe

[soelstress]

The Strength Of His Touch

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Summary: Steve hesitates to touch you after seeing bruises he unknowingly caused.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , slight alcohol consumption , sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , Sam being a good friend , Steve being a stubborn sweetheart , slight bruising from gripping a little too hard (he’s a Super Solider, he can’t help it)

Word count: 3.3k

A/N - Hello Lovelies! I seem to be on a Captain craze at the moment. Found myself wondering if either of the boys would worry about their strength… and this is what happens, especially since they can both be so stubborn.

The gif is sourced from Google

Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work

Sunlight danced beyond your eyelids as it both warmed you and teased you with the thought of waking properly. A cool breeze tickled your skin while also refreshing some very familiar scents. The masculine scene of cologne, clean sweat and the faint musk of sex. Blood rushed to your face at the latter. The intoxicating mixture was something that you could barely believe you’d help to make. At your sleepy hum of contentment the arms that were wrapped around you began to drift along your body and traced patterns on your sun warmed skin. Hearing the gentle lub dub of a heart you nuzzled into a solidly heated chest which produced a smooth rumble.

You cracked one eye open to see a familiar pair of blue eyes blinking at you sleepily. His face still held the traces of slumber while sporting a mussed bed head hairstyle. “Good morning, beautiful.” The husky tone sent delicious shivers rolling through your body which replied before you could with a very distinct yowl. There was silence for a moment before his stomach then chipped in which caused him to start chuckling quietly. “Guess that’s the cue for some breakfast huh?” His attempt to move was hindered by you wrapping tightly around him.

“No.” The soft pleading whines only made him chuckle louder. “Wanna cuddle.”

“We can cuddle after breakfast.”

With a grumpy huff you quickly rolled away from him and tugged the sheet over your head. “Don’t wanna.” Your sleepiness was fading much to your annoyance. Was it so wrong to want to stay in that wonderful place between sleep and waking?

The bed dipped as he shifted onto his side towards you. “As much as Tony or Sam might argue, I don’t think Dum-E or Redwing are able to bring us breakfast so for now the task falls to us.” When the sheet was tugged away you squeaked in annoyance. “Now, let's-” A choked gasp ended his sentence.

The lingering haze of slumber quickly dissipated when you heard the sound. Confused, you rolled over to face him and opened your eyes. Gone was the languorous ease and sleepy expression. Now his eyes burned with something you didn’t recognise and his jaw was taut while his brows dipped with little ridges between. His silent behaviour sent you bouncing between worry and fear.

“What’s wrong baby?” Somehow the whisper forced itself past the lump that had formed in your throat.

“Can’t you tell?” The words were steeped in disbelief.

It took everything in you not to flinch at Steve’s tone. One that your boyfriend had never aimed at you and that had not been directed at you by anyone else for some time. Before you could spiral into worry you forced yourself to think over the events of the previous night when you had sex for the first time as a couple. Over and over you replayed every moment but could think of nothing obvious that might cause this kind of reaction. Anxiety bloomed through your body as you worried your lip.

His thumb smoothed over the agitated flesh and directed your attention to his eyes which you now recognised were angry and scared. “Talk to me sweetheart.”

“I can’t-”

“I just want to help. I swear I’m not mad.” When you blinked at him but didn’t say anything he moaned in worry. “Please, tell me where it hurts.”

Now you were beyond confused. Under his panicked gaze you stretched carefully and rotated your neck and shoulders before each tensing muscle area. A delicious ache in your core had you squirming slightly but other than that you felt fine. Heck better than fine. Your last full recollection of last night was melting into a boneless heap under Steve as he held you close. To go from that boneless heap to a sleepy daze and then receive this odd behaviour from the man who caused it all… your head hurt from the confusion which irritated you.

“What are you talking about? I’m fi-”

“Fine? How can you be fine?! Look at yourself!” He gestured towards the tops of your shoulders which you hadn’t actually looked at while stretching.

Oh.

Faint purple marks were dusted along the flesh and trailed down your arms slightly. Your head tilted in confusion as you prodded at one. It barely throbbed. Honestly you’d had worse bruises that appeared and disappeared just as quickly without knowing what caused them.

As your boyfriend briefly lined up his fingers to each bruise in a decidedly exaggerated manner to demonstrate that his grip had been the cause your mind once again raced through the prior night. When you were both about to reach your peaks you had requested he hold you and he had eagerly obliged by encasing you in his arms. At no point could you remember any discomfort or pain.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I am so, so sorry.” The whisper was anguished. Your boyfriend had moved to the edge of the bed. His elbows rested on his knees as he hid his face in his hands. Restlessness rippled through his taut body.

As you felt him pull away both emotionally and physically you struggled with how to resolve this. Now that he had shown you the reason for his panic it was a little bit easier to understand where his mind was. But could he not remember the bliss of how you’d woken up or the pleasure you’d shared last night? Your mind ground to a halt by a horrible realisation. Maybe it hadn’t been shared. There was every chance that it had not been as pleasurable for him but he had carried on anyway. If that was the case it would absolutely explain his thought processes.

Quietly, you climbed off the bed and sank to your knees in front of him but he did not shift or give any indication that he’d noticed your movements. “Baby?” It came out as a rasp so you cleared your throat. “Baby, please.” Still no response. Well you were still going to talk. “Look, I know that you’d never mean to hurt me. It was an accident. But it’s fine. I’m fine. I thought you might have guessed that from how we woke up… and how things ended last night.” You bit your lip. “Or not. I know how it was for me but-”

Blue eyes met yours so suddenly you almost reared back in shock. But what made you hold your position was the fact his lashes were slightly darker and his eyes glistened. “Please tell me you’re not seriously suggesting that I didn’t enjoy last night?” When you avoided his eyes and instead locked your fingers together nervously he sighed and took each of your hands in one of his. “Sweetheart, look at me.” After he gently stroked his thumb along the back of your hand you met his warm gaze. “Last night was amazing. You were amazing. But it doesn’t change this” he murmured as he gestured towards the marks. “How can you say you’re fine?”

“You know what? You’re right, I’m not fine.” He ducked his head in shame. “I’m pissed that you’re killing the glow. Why can’t you believe me when I say I tell you how I’m feeling? You ask me to believe you that I’m not delicate in battle situations, how is this any different? It feels like you’re asking me to believe you but you don’t believe me.”

“It’s different when I’m the one who’s hurting you!” Steve’s fingers tugged through his hair in frustration. “I can’t- I won’t hurt you.” He stood and stalked out of the room leaving you feeling annoyed and hurt.

—————————————-

For the next few days, things changed drastically. Affection was limited. Before Steve constantly but absentmindedly touched you in some way almost instinctively. But now he froze when he reached out before adjusting his grip or hand placement.

“Still no change huh?” Sam eyed you over the cocktail pitcher that you were sipping from. He’d invited you out for a few drinks to catch up from the events you’d told him about.

You sighed and stabbed at the ice in the drink with your straw. “Nothing. Believe me it’s not for lack of trying. But I’ve noticed if he thinks I’ll spend the night at his he tries to tire me out by sparring or something so I just fall asleep.” You looked up at him feeling your lip wobble slightly as tears threatened your eye line. “Sam… I’ve even tried wearing things to bed. Sleep shifts, lace and silk and all of that. And he does nothing but smile and just cuddle.” You sighed heavily. “Maybe he’s just trying to find a way to break this off.”

Sam’s hand clasped yours and his brown eyes were lit with concern. “Don’t believe that for a second. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’d do anything for you. But he worries and gets in his own head. Man’s more stubborn than a mule.”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded in agreement. “I’ve gotten worse bruises.” At that, Akons ‘Smack That’ started playing over the speakers. You and Sam locked gazes before cackling with laughter. “Case in point.”

“Yeah yeah. Just remember we agreed to never speak of that.” Sam glared at you with mock anger. “I don’t need your Super Soldier boyfriend chasing me down because you made me spank you every time Akon said ‘smack that’.”

Giggling, you shoved him playfully. “I was drunk! Besides you said that no one could ‘smack that’ like you!”

“I was also drunk!” Both of you then eyed the remaining drinks and decided not to order anymore. “How did you explain that you couldn’t sit the next day anyway?”

“Said I fell.”

Sam nodded. “Just make sure you stick to that. Let’s finish this pitcher and call it a night.”

—————————————-

Slightly buzzed and happy, you entered your apartment to find Steve laying on the couch watching a new movie from his list. He looked up at your entry and paused the movie. “Hi honey.”

“Hi Stevie.” You hesitated before walking over to him. He sat up as you approached and smiled as you stroked his golden locks. He carefully wrapped his arms around you and took a moment to press his head to your tummy before pulling back.

“Did you have a nice time with Sam?”

You made a noise of agreement before placing a soft kiss to his forehead and stepped out of his embrace. “I’m gonna get ready for bed.” When you turned you missed the soft frown on Steve’s face. After wiping off your makeup and a quick shower you decided against the suggestive sleepwear. There were really only so many times you could offer with each little rejection having chipped away at you. Plus you didn’t want to douse the warmth of the buzz that Sam helped create. Instead you slipped on one of Steve’s t-shirts and crawled into bed.

Steve walked in shortly after having finished his movie. His heart melted at the sight of you cuddled up to his pillow. Quickly he stripped down to his boxers and joined you, pride swelling when he saw you were wearing his shirt. He was a little surprised, a little relieved and a little disappointed that you weren’t in one of those cute but tempting sleep sets. Though there was something about you wearing his clothes that tugged at his heartstrings. As he gently curved around your body you grumbled quietly before relaxing into his hold.

“Let me help you”

“Feels so good”

“Give it to me baby”

The sudden darkness and change in situation was jarring when you opened your eyes. Mere moments ago you had been hurtling towards the highest high under his burning gaze.

An incoherent mumble came from behind you.

Just a dream. You had imagined it. At the realisation you sniffled in disappointment.

“S’wrong baby?” When you didn’t answer Steve rolled over and reached to turn on his lamp before turning back to you where you were hiding your face in a pillow. “What is it?”

Your heart trembled at the concern in his voice. “Just a dream Steve. It’s fine.”

Steve huffed while arching a brow. “A dream that’s left you upset? Honey, that's not fine.” His warm hand brushed along your cheek as he encouraged you to roll onto your back. “Let me help you.”

His touch mixed with the words from your dream only brought back the ache that was plaguing your core with a vengeance. Leaning up you caught his mouth in a desperate kiss and your hands wrapped around his neck to keep him close to you. Steve’s brain froze for a second but you felt his resistance and tried to hold on even as he gently extracted himself despite your efforts. “Baby… no.”

Everything inside you screamed to move, to run away from the burning pain that came from his denial. It had been bad enough that the outfits hadn’t interested him but this was total rejection. You tried to squirm away from him but he pulled you against him, cradling your face as his blue eyes shone with pleas.

“I don’t want to hurt you baby.”

You already are. Steve’s sharp inhale and flinch of pain made you realise the words must have been said aloud. But you weren’t going to apologise. “You don’t touch me anymore Steve and if you do you’re adjusting your grip or where you put your hands. Is this all there is? You being scared to touch me and me wanting more?” A dam within you broke and tears began to spill.

Steve’s handsome face was torn with anguish as he watched. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he shook his head slowly.

“Steve.”

It might have been the tears that steadily trailed down your face or that he had never heard you say his name with such pain and need. But whatever it was had his resolve crumbling. His thumbs tenderly traced the tracks and swiped under your eyes before ghosting his lips against yours. At first you could not respond properly in fear that he would suddenly change his mind and you could not bear the pain of further rejection. Soft sounds of apology poured from Steve’s mouth as he lightly pressed kisses along your jaw and down your neck before returning to your mouth. One hand left your face and trailed down your side to your thigh before he hitched your leg over his hip. When your mouth parted in surprise he took advantage and with careful tenderness teased you with his tongue. He sighed happily when your tongue tentatively met his as you shifted slightly towards him. So caught up with Steve’s kisses and touches you suddenly weren’t sure how or where to touch him but before you could decide Steve lifted his hand that had been stroking your thigh and guided one of your hands to his hip before returning his back to your thigh. For a few moments you just let your hand drift up and down his side before cautiously squeezing the flesh and froze when a groan passed from his mouth to yours. Steve rolled so you straddled him. You broke the kiss in a bid for oxygen but Steve sat up and renewed his attention to your jaw and neck with kisses and soft sucks. As he reached that one spot below your ear you wriggled against him and felt his cock twitching through his boxers which were slowly dampening with your combined arousal. Reaching between your bodies you eagerly palmed his hard flesh which caused Steve to thrust up with a harsh grunt.

Something inside you snapped. No more games. You needed Steve. NOW. As you tugged the shirt over your head Steve raised his hips to shift his underwear far enough down to kick them off before you gripped his cock firmly and positioned him at your entrance. Steve’s head tipped back with a loud groan but his ocean eyes never left your face as you easily sank onto him thanks to gravity and how slick you’d become. He had felt big that first night but this position stretched you as he bottomed out deep with a pleasant burn. As you rolled your hips your clit brushed against the trimmed hair at the base of his cock and you whined at that first spark that soon turned into more as your movements quickened.

“That’s it baby” he murmured against the skin of your chest as his hands captured your face so he could watch you fall apart from just riding him. With a final roll you shattered into a trembling mess against him. For a few moments Steve watched your eyes become clouded with peace before they focused back on him. Your hands found his chest and pushed him back onto the mattress with a soft thump. Bracing your arms on him you leaned forward slightly and began to rise off him before sliding back down. Steve groaned at the wet heat sucking him in and he couldn’t help reacting when your breasts were so close to his face. He eagerly brushed his thumb over one while lapping and suckling at the other. A whine escaped him when you clenched from his actions. His hips flexed in retaliation and the tip of his cock nudged your g-spot. Both of you moaned at the sensation and he began to move in tandem with you as his hands moved to hold the bedsheets. The coil from before built faster and higher as you moved but wouldn’t snap even as your thighs began to burn from exertion.

You glanced down to see Steve’s face and chest flushed with pleasure as the sheets twisted in his white knuckled grip. “Stevie… please. Touch me.” The final thread of his restraint snapped as his hands found your hips and guided you as his thrusts quickened. “Oh my- Don’t stop Steve!”

Steve grunted as your walls pulsed around his throbbing cock in his determination to reach your release first. “No way sweetheart, not till you cum for me.” He planted his feet on the mattress and bucked up forcefully as you moaned loudly. “C’mon baby, cum on this cock. Cum for me now.”

Your cry of pleasure burst past your lips as your core spasmed around Steve’s cock but he kept moving and prolonging the pleasure. As you started to descend from your high he brought you down against him and held you tightly with one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other continued to squeeze your hip. He thrusted twice more before letting out a soft groan. You hummed contentedly feeling your core heat with his cum though his cock barely softened.

Soft kisses were dotted all over your face as Steve held you within the cage of his embrace. His soft blue eyes burned with devotion for you. “I’m sorry honey. Those bruises scared the hell out of me. I forget how strong I am and I feel like I can’t forget with you.”

You caught his face between your hands. “Steve, you’d never hurt me out of spite or carelessness. I’d tell you if you were hurting me. But I’d like to see how rough you can get. I kinda like it.” You blushed lightly.

“So I’ve heard.” You glanced up at him to see a grin tugging at his lips. “Do you care to tell me why you couldn’t bear to sit down on the same day Sam couldn’t touch anything with his right hand?”

[revelboo]

May I please request more tfp wheeljack? Either a continuation of the story or something else you want. I just love how you write the different wheeljacks

Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

🤣 sure!

Crooked Ways Pt 4

TFP Wheeljack x Reader

• Head lifting from your nest of pillows and blankets at a thud and soft growling that you're pretty sure is alien swearing, you suck in a sharp breath as he stumbles inside. Bleeding something faintly glowing as his shoulder scrapes the wall. Those bright optics searching until they find you and his door wings droop slightly. Like he was worried about you and it's a relief to see you. You'd thought seeing your tormentor hurt would please you. Fill you with savage glee, but instead it just leaves you oddly empty.

• "Go back to recharge," he growls, ignoring when you immediately correct him with 'sleep.' Moving past his berth, he kneels to drag out a portable medikit. And you're not listening to him, sitting up to watch what he's doing. Would like to convince himself that you're worried about him. That seeing him bleeding energon makes you unhappy. But he knows better. You're probably delighting in seeing him hurt. Sitting up to get a better vantage. "Guess it's not your lucky day, huh? I'm pretty hard to offline."

• He's come back banged up before, but never like this. Someone did some serious damage, and you watch him carry the box to the berth with you and sit on the edge. Pulling out a pen-looking thing and a roll of something. And he's ignoring you completely to worm his servos into a gap in his plating to try and reach wherever he's bleeding from before giving up and picking up the thing that you're sure isn't a pen. And trying to get the pointed end between his plating at an awkward angle, his denta gritted. Watching him struggle, you know you owe him nothing but contempt. Despise him for taking you, keeping you against your will. So why do you stand and walk over to him across the top of his berth?

• "Give it here," you say, and he hesitates as you hold out your little hands. Painfully aware of how much you hate him, so why are you offering to help him? You won't meet his optics, just waiting. "Just tell me what to do, you idiot." Spark aching as he stares at you, he knows the odds of you trying to immediately hurt him worse aren't in his favor. Those angry, hurt eyes are staring at the energon trailing down his side and slowly dripping against the berth. Wants to trust you, to pretend you care about him that this strange pull that keeps him from being able to let you go means something.

• Can feel his stare on you and you don't know why you're helping him. Had Stockholm's finally kicked in? You'd believe it, but you still hate his alien guts. And he's reaching to offer you the pen thing. It's heavy and longer than you are tall, but you can lift it with both arms wrapped around it. "Use the trigger on the side to heat the line and then apply the tape," he says, voice softer than you've ever heard it. Experimentally pressing the trigger makes the thin end of the tool glow white hot and it occurs to you that you could jab it into him as deep as you could and pull the trigger. Probably wouldn't take him out, but it would hurt. He has to realize that, too. So why is he trusting you not to?

Previous

[bonzirelle]

Out Of Sync

paring: idol!bangchan x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: cursing(like two), arguing(idk if that counts), kissing

summary: Chan’s been pushing himself to the edge for the sake of the group, while you’re growing more and more worried about his mental health. But all he sees is the music—the deadlines, the pressure, the need to keep going. Your concerns don’t match his priorities, and slowly, it starts to pull your relationship apart.

dolle’s note: i wrote one little channie’s room reference..please lmk if you saw it!!

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

It’s close to one in the morning and you were getting more tired with every second that passed by. Eyes dropping ever few minutes and everything was going quiet, well, everything except for the sound of Chan humming a melody to himself while tapping a pencil against his mini notebook. Usually this wouldn’t worry or bother you, his work never really has, but lately it’s getting to a point. He damn near stays up until sunrise and some days he doesn’t even come home from the studio. You’re lucky Jisung practically dragged him out of the room, or else you knew he would still be in there pushing himself to the brink of passing out.

You knew about Chan’s passion for music, it’s never been hidden. You would actually be more concerned if he didn’t mention music for a day. You’ve always supported him and his decisions when it comes to music writing and producing, you always have so it would be kind of weird to you if you didn’t. But more frequently you’ve been second guessing letting him stay up late like this. He stays in the studio for a whole day and misses meals. You know it’s not healthy for him and he knows it too. But he’s too blinded by his love for music that he’s neglecting his own personal health.

“Chan, it’s getting late. You should come to bed.” You sounded so tired, and that’s because you were extremely exhausted.

For the first few seconds he was completely silent continuing to be hunched over a spiral notebook while writing lyrics.

“Just give me a second.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

A sigh fell from his lips, he pauses his movements for a second to see if you would say anything else, but when you didn’t he just went right back to writing as if you went basically pleading for him to lay with you. Yeah, you were worried about him and his health, but you’ve also been starting to feel much more lonely and empty lately. You didn’t want to make this about yourself so you stayed quiet not to worry or stress him out even further. After a few more moments of silence from the both of you, you wrap a throw blanket around your shoulders and get out of the bed then made your way over to his desk.

“Chan, i’ve literally been waiting for you to get in bed since you’ve come home. You came here at ten…it’s almost one in the morning.”

You watched him start to bounce his leg while you we’re talking like he was trying to distract himself from something.

“I never asked you to wait for me. You shouldn’t even be up right now. You have work in the morning, don’t let me keep you from going to sleep.”

“That’s the point, Chan. I literally can’t sleep without you.”

He started to roll his eyes as you spoke. You knew he was burning himself out but that didn’t give him the right to be annoyed at you, you didn’t do anything but wait for him. That’s what you’ve always done. Gave him time no matter what. You know no one is perfect so you ah to give him the benefit of the doubt, you wouldn’t get too snappy or angry at him for being up like this.

“Can you just leave alone for one fucking moment? God, you’re so clingy for no reason. Just go to sleep.”

His words hurt way more than they were supposed to. You’ve always looked at Chan as someone who would never say anything hurtful or mean to you. That’s how he’s always been.

“Oh, i’m clingy? God forbid i wanted to wait for my boyfriend to actually get to sleep with him.”

After you got nothing but silence from him, you scoff and go back over to your bed.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered while tucking the sheets back and wrapping yourself in them. You tried not to get too worked up over this but you just really wanted to feel Chan’s arms around you after days of him coming home late. He was like the feeling of coming home to a warm room after spending the whole day out in the cold. Still, he was being stubborn and continued to write away in his notebook instead hearing you out and acting spending some time with you and this time you just accepted it. It’s not like much would change anyway.

You fell asleep pretty quickly considering it was really late. While you began to drift off in complete silence, you felt the bed dip down beside you and a familiar scent of lemon and complete sweetness then knew it was Chan. Well, i mean who else would it have been?

“Babe..you up?” You nod your head a little, not having the strength to speak. He let out a very soft sigh through his nostrils while tucking some of your hair behind his ears. “Good night, baby…” He leans down to press a light kiss to your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything this time, just reaches over and pulls you close. You let him. His hand finds yours under the blanket, fingers lacing slowly. A shaky breath leaves his nose. Then, so soft you almost miss it—“’Night.” He presses a kiss to your temple and closes his eyes. And everything feels like it’ll be just fine.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

[prettycalla]

|| take you there ||

Pairing: Eddie/Reader

Summary: You've had a rough day. Eddie has a wild idea that just might help you blow off some steam.

Word count: 1.3k

Tags and warnings: A bit of reckless driving/speeding (written as safely as possible - but please mind yourself if this is a trigger!), fluff, established relationship, Eddie is a sweetheart, no use of Y/N.

Masterlist || Join the taglist!

Today has not been a good day. From start to finish, everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

You'd love nothing more than to just crawl into bed and scream into your pillows, but you promised you'd meet Eddie, so here you are, storming up and down his tiny bedroom to try and get the pent-up energy out of you.

You'd tried to keep it to yourself, but it's Eddie, you can never keep anything to yourself around him. Just being with him makes you want to spill everything, even when he hasn't said or done anything.

He's sitting on the end of his bed, watching you pace back and forth as you rant.

“It’s just-"

You let a strangled noise of frustration, balling your hands into fists.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try and calm you down or make you stop. He knows that you need to let it out.

He knows what it’s like to be stifled. He never wants you to feel that way around him.

Only when you start to slow down does he move, fishing his keys out of his jacket pocket.

“You wanna go for a drive?” he asks.

You stop in your tracks, turning your attention to him.

"I don’t wanna be around anyone else right now,” you tell him.

Eddie shakes his head.

“Just you and me,” he assures you. “Promise.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about it, before finally nodding.

“Okay,” you say in a small voice. “Let’s go.”

Eddie gives you a warm smile, holding his hand out to you. You tentatively take it, letting him lead you out of the trailer. The van’s parked in its usual spot nearby. Ever the gentleman, Eddie opens the door for you with his usual little bow.

You stare off blankly through the window as he makes his way to the driver’s side, having his usual fight with the rusty door before he starts the van up.

“Radio’s all yours,” he says with a little gesture towards it.

The radio’s only ever fully delegated to you when you’re really upset. You shake your head.

“‘M not in the mood,” you mumble, plucking absentmindedly at the edge of your sweater sleeve.

Eddie doesn't push any further, keeping his focus on the road as he drives.

You’ve always appreciated that he doesn’t make you talk when you don’t want to. At the start of your relationship, it would bother him, and he eventually confessed to you that he was worried you were mad at him when you were quiet like that. You’d gently reassured him that if you were mad at him, he’d be the first person to know, and he knows that now. He trusts that when you’re quiet, it’s because you need it.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you’re not paying attention to where he’s taking you, or how long you’ve been driving for. It's a while before you arrive at...wherever this is. The van lurches gently to a stop.

“We’re here,” Eddie says, and you finally come out of your own head to look out the window.

“Here” is a long dirt road in the middle of nowhere. The nearest house must be at least ten minutes away by car, and the street lights are practically non-existent.

“Are you planning to kill me?” you ask with a weak smile.

Eddie laughs, not calming your nerves in the slightest, and shakes his head.

“No murder, I promise,” he replies, making a theatrical crossing motion over his heart.

“So…what, then?” you ask, squinting out into the gloom again. “What’s out here?”

“Nothing,” Eddie replies simply. “That’s the point.”

Before you can question him further, he digs one of his tapes out of the glove compartment and pushes it into the cassette slot on the stereo.

You jolt as heavy guitars blast through the van’s speakers. You make a move to turn it down when Eddie stops you.

“Trust me, okay?” he shouts over the music, starting up the engine again and driving down the road.

The van starts picking up speed, faster and faster as it goes. You’re starting to feel nervous - God, maybe Eddie is planning on killing you - when he starts winding the window down. He leans out as far as he can without letting go of the steering wheel, and lets out an ear-splitting scream.

You just stare at him. Eddie is weird, you are more than well aware of this fact, but somehow you still find yourself surprised by the shit he does.

He pulls his head back in and starts slowing the van down, pushing his windswept hair out of his face as he catches his breath. He turns to you with the biggest smile on his face, his cheeks red from screaming.

“What the hell?” you ask with an awkward laugh, turning the music back down.

He’s still grinning at you, eyes wild and full of life. You have to admit, he’s gorgeous like this - even if he is completely nuts sometimes.

“C’mon, it’s your turn,” he says, turning the van in the opposite direction again.

You shake your head vehemently.

“No, no way,” you tell him.

Eddie just looks at you as the van starts to speed up again.

“Eddie-" you start, but he interrupts you.

“You gotta get this shit outta your system,” he says, fiddling with the stereo volume to turn it all the way up again.

You look at him, then at the window winder.

He’s right, and you know he’s right.

With a little breath, you wind the window down, leaning out as far as you can. The air is freezing against your skin, the wind pulling your hair back from your face. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out the loudest scream you can manage, until your jaw and throat and lungs ache. You can faintly hear Eddie cheering from behind you.

You practically collapse against your seat afterwards, pushing your messy hair out of your face.

"Holy shit," you whisper hoarsely, a wide smile spreading across your face.

Eddie makes a circular motion with his finger - you wanna go again? - and you nod enthusiastically. He turns the van around and heads up the dark road again, picking up speed. You hang your head out of the window again, and yell and scream until you can’t help the adrenaline-fuelled laughter that bursts from you.

Eddie pulls the van to a stop as you slump back into your seat.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks gently, turning the radio down.

You're breathless, your face stings, your throat hurts-

You feel amazing.

"Better?" he prompts with a smile.

"Better," you reply with a nod.

He reaches over to take your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingers.

"Good," he says softly. "I hate seeing you upset like that. You don't deserve it."

You shrug. "That's just life sometimes, Eddie."

"Yeah, well, fuck that," he grumbles. "You still don't deserve it."

His eyes are so warm and sincere, and it's hard not to see how much he cares for you. You gently squeeze his hand.

"Thank you," you say softly.

"For what?" he asks with a little frown.

You know Eddie too well by now. He's not fishing for compliments or praise. He genuinely doesn't understand why you're thanking him. He loves making you happy. Why should you thank him for that?

"For taking such good care of me," you tell him anyway, because he deserves to know.

He smiles then, that big, dopey smile you love so much.

"Anytime, sweetheart," he murmurs, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. "You ready to head back?"

You nod. "Yeah, I think I am. Do you think maybe you could drive the speed limit now?" you ask, teasing.

Eddie just laughs, turning the stereo back up.

Taglist 💖: @glassbxttless @punkrockmlchael @iitsmandii

(banners by @ cafekitsune)

[girl-lostconnection]

Concept of a concept time:

On my delusional and creepy men shenanigans again. Last time I brought you Ghost, today I bring you König.

König who spends his rare leave in his cabin in Alps, far away from people that could stare, even further from clients or teammates. Just a little time for his own to heal up after the last unfortunate op.

Reconnect with nature, chop some wood, reassemble the rifle for the fifteenth time this week. Nothing exciting, but also nothing unpredictable.

Quiet controlled environment where nothing out of the ordinary happens. No gunshots, no blood, no death.

Just him, thick woods and mountains.

König who gets two people on his doorstep and yeah, he should have guessed that if there is a road nearby, there will be tourists stranded in the snow storm.

His mistake, next year he will take care of it and demolish that fucking thing once and for all.

Still he notices you just behind the friend of yours, your eyes the only thing that he can see — lower part of your face wrapped in scarf and that’s smart, the winters are vicious in the mountains and you probably would like your nose to not get a frost bite.

König who lets the two of you in his house, not stepping aside so you have to squeeze past him, his eyes a little manic as he tries to see a little more of you. What are you doing this deep in the mountain?

What brought you to König’s doorstep?

He thinks about it for a moment, staring down at you while your friend chats him up filling the thick silence. You do your best not to look at the menacing giant of a man who locked and deadbolted the door as soon as you stepped in.

You try not to think about him pocketing the key.

Would you like to stay for dinner?

König watches you in the reflection of the small window above his sink, corner of his lips twitching when you finally shed you coat. And nothing else.

Your scarf stays on, wrapped securely, nor do you pull off your gloves

Skittish. Wary. Careful.

Good girl.

You shouldn’t trust a stranger.

And you definitely shouldn’t trust König.

Not when you stumble right into his den, shaking and tense, your gut telling you that something is wrong.

Not when he has locked all three locks on his doors the moment you and your unfortunate…who is that guy by the way, Schatzi?

Doesn’t seem to be a husband since there is no ring, hardly a boyfriend with how little he checks on you (or a really bad one and therefore he should be gone anyway) and König doesn’t see any resemblance for you to be family so…a friend maybe?

Well, that’s just too bad. König doesn’t need this many people in his house.

König watches your reflection, his eyes drinking into obvious roundness to your figure. Shoulders broad and legs strong, even in that thick woollen sweater and full winter gear.

König forces himself to look away, his fingers twitching, when he shifts his weight from one leg to another, his cock chubbing up.

Pretty girl with body that makes his mouth water. Pretty girl on whose thighs alone König could feast all winter.

Oh, that is so fucking good.

Mother used to say that those who wait patiently get what they yearn for and it seems like König just got exactly what he wanted

Danke, Mutter, danke shön. You were right as always.

König who hums, offering you to wait out the storm in here, while he pretends to make you and your friend some tea.

König who slips a knife of his in the sleeve and turns around, his voice cracking like a faulty vinyl record when you look him in the eyes again.

Your friend will have to go, Schatzi.

But don’t worry, your König will take care of everything. Your König will take care of you, he promises. You won’t need for anything, süße.

After all, what kind of husband would he make if he neglected a wife that fate dropped right in his hands? It was meant to be, Schatzi, he just knows it.

And so will you. Even if it takes time.

But not to worry, you will have it in abundance. After all, you are home now. And this is where you will stay.

[welp-back-on-my-bs]

Yandere Tokyo Debunker headcanons!

Jin

This man, who is clearly hopeless for our lovely MC already, is the richest person there, very damn smart and equally as stubborn, we are just gonna turn that love into complete and utter obsession.

This man has a room prepared for you with everything he knows you like in it. Don't ask him how he managed to learn some of these things or how the room works. It's just temporary for your future together.

You get upgraded from servant to spouse. When the time comes for him to collect you, you won't realize until you make it to your new room and a ring on your finger.

It doesn't matter what your gender identity is, he dosent care, be yourself. He can fight his dad on this if he has to. As long as he gets to keep you close and safe.

Tohma

What do I say about this mysterious man?

He wouldn't kidnap you, that would be too big of a hassle to deal with, but it would make his schedule less busy than it already is. It's not off the table yet.

Instead, he watches you. Makes sure you are safe and have all of your needs met. Any dangers to you are swiftly eliminated.

Do take the little gifts he leaves you, seeing you accept his affections makes the hard days more bearable.

Luca

The loyal knight will always be by your side when you need him most. To the point where it's hard to know how fast he can appear out of thin air.

He is by your side every chance he gets. He hates having to let you go to the other dorms, letting you around those who are clearly dangerous. Why can't you just let him protect you like he promised?

What's wrong with him moving into your drom? He can better protect you that way!

Nothing is disappearing. Maybe you misplaced it?

Is it so bad that he collects things that he adores about you? Pictures of your smile, stands of your hair, your soap to smell your sent, your clothes so he can imagine holding you close forever?

Kaito

He can never get the courage to say the words he wants to. The words that could hopefully seal that you two were destend to be! But... he can't.

Instead, he spreads roumours. Roumours about you, so you will be looked at with hate so that people laugh behind your back. Then you can come right to him. The only person who won't hurt you like that.

Don't worry, he may not be able to provide much, but what he can't provide monetarily, he can provide in loyalty and devotion to you.

Alan

As a yandere, he is going to try with every bit of his strength to not have you see him as a monster. That is his worst fear.

Instead, he makes sure at least one Vagastrom student is always keeping you safe when he can't. No matter what.

He invites you over to spend time with you. It doesn't matter what it is. He would happily take part in whatever activity you want to do.

You will never be alone again, not truely. He loves you too much to have you be put in dangers way.

Leo

He thinks about showing you off to his audience as his significant other, for about a minute. Then he realized that that would be a shit idea in the case he needed to kidnap you.

So, instead, he stalks your socials, breaks into your devices to track you, everything he needs to do.

As for keeping you safe currently, there wasn't much he could do about it 24/7. But those who have been even slightly mean to you become sotial outcasts fast.

When Leo confesses his love, it's too late for you. Anyone else you've taken interest in has abandoned you. You feel alone, scared, will his firey embrace warm you?

Sho

It seemed to start quietly, with a random gift of free food from Sho. His cooking is amazing, so of course you took it.

Then he would offer to take you on rides with him. Showing you amazing places and giving an amazing adrenaline rush.

He could never keep you from that. From the freedom of riding with him.

Instead, he makes you dependant on him, for food, rides, whatever he can. As long as you don't go.

Haru

Do understand that you are being kidnapped ASAP.

He would love to watch your day to day, but his other duties make that impossible.

First things first, five trackers on you. They stay on you even when you are in his care.

Being in his care means you are delegated to Jabberwok. So you get to help him take care of the less harmful anomalies, and he hopes that you can clean but understands if you can't/won't.

Ren or Towa can't do much to help, Towa likes you here because Haru let's you teo hangout there, Ren can barely get haru off of his own ass, so yours would be much harder.

Towa

He will actually confess his feelings before he plans on anything too much.

Setting up for his confession, he would leave flowers, have small romantic moments between the two of you that he orcastrated.

When the time comes, he confesses under the stars, hopping that you would reciprocate.

Reciprocation of his feelings leads to a wonderful, happy, normal, loveing life with him glued to your side. You can never leave him now. Any attempts to will lead to conciquences. Who gets it, though?

If you reject him, he would be utterly heartbroken. He would do everything in his power to win your heart. He eliminates those who don't deserve your love. How could they? They couldn't apriciate you. Please, let him love you.

Ren

This guy? As a yandere? I feel like it would be more like him being a 'nice guy' (more than Towa).

He spends all of his time with you, getting you things, lazing off with you, that sort of thing.

He absolutely has a shrine dedicated to you. It's one of the few things he takes care of.

But he wouldnt share his feelings, he just keeps you close, pushing others away from you. Before you know it, all you have is him.

Taiga

You worm your way into his brain and soul. Him falling for you after that isn't much of a jump. Twisting it into obsession even easier.

He is hungery, all the time. Not even anomalies fill this hunger. But, whenever you come around and be a lucky charm for him. It goes. Everything feels so much better. Everything.

So, keeping you there was easy to do. The next time you came to visit, you never left again.

He doesn't tell the staff anything. The students prevent you from running, along with him keeping you attached to his hip.

How long until he gets bored is the question now.

Romeo

There are three things that draw Romeo to people and to respect people, work ethic, sotial standing, and/or something ever so slightly out of place with someone.

He doesn't even realize he is slipping into obsession. He spends time following you, learning your schedule, getting your size, he won't steal anything of yours, he is no thief.

Then, you start getting gifts, beautiful outfits, expensive chocolates, and complementary accessories. It could easily make anyone uncomfortable. The outfits fit too well, the chocolates are too perfect, the accessories work too well.

Romeo is preparing a cage for you. Will you come to the VIP room?

Ritsu

I feel like you either have to be kind to him or completely ignore him to get his attention. When he gets obsessed, though, you aren't getting rid of him.

He knows, he knows all too well. What he is doing is wrong. But he still does it.

He follows you, records your every interaction, he takes photos of you. He has a file of all this, so he can hear your voice any time he needs something.

He does ask you out, how could he not? He has reasonable suspicions that others are trying to steal you away.

Subaru

He is someone who is easily won over by kindness, and if your kindness comes from expereince of pain? He will gather strength to be able to protect you from the shadows of the past.

He checks in on you twice a day, lunch, and after school. It's subtle, but he manages to get what he needs, plus whatever memories to add on top.

He knows what you enjoy and gets it for you, maybe even make it the way someone important did if you saw it.

He just wishes to give you more happy memories with him. He is sorry about how selfish of a wish that is. He just loves you too much. Dont worry about those who have tried to take you away from him

Haku

Haku is a very subtle yandere. He has been there from the start, watching over you and taking care of you. It's in his nature.

Falling in love so hard was a surprise to him, though. He finds you attractive, of course, but the subtle things you do, the care you give to others, and even him amazes him.

With you, being by your side is his favorite kind of break. Whether you know he is there or not. It doesn't matter. Just being around you makes him feel whole.

Marrying him will be a perfect way to keep you by and give you a relaxing life. Won't you please let him take care of you like you do for him?

Zenji

You are his muse. You give him passion and ideas flowing through his mind to create and create. He loves seeing your reaction when he is done. He wonders if you'll put together that all of it is about you and dedicated to you!

Neither of you have to compromise on much either! He can just move in with you eaily since only Subaru and Haku will notice he is even gone!

He takes care if the things he can take care of so you don't have to stress. You aren't to join him yet! Just let yourself and your beauty glow!

Edward

You wouldn't notice a thing differnt really. Just... the feeling of being watched day to day.

He would make excuses to spend time with you and have you care for him. Whenever he gets an idea to do the same for you, he does it immediately.

He... he is actually a little more organized now? He wants his room to be more inviting and comforting to you since it's where you both can be together for all eternity.

Rui

He hates his curse even more now. Why can't he toutch you? Hold you? Adore you in every way you deserve?

So, instead he gifts you things, things that aren't alive, but still sweet and romantic. Things that he can find out you need.

He takes you on little dates, too. He would always do that. But... he could never toutch you without losing you.

Losing you means he'll lose the best thing that has ever happened.

Lyca

Lyca could easily not understand what romance is supposed to be and take wring messages from stories and advice given to him from Subaru, Ed, or Rui.

So, his genuine love slowly grows and festers into an obsession.

What was once lunch dates with you, him, and Suba, becomes dates with just the two of you alone. He holds you close during this time, making sure you smell like him. If he doesn't like it, he will give you his sweater.

He follows you around, making sure none hurts you. He got into fights with others more and more often.

The school tried to lock him away. But he didn't let them.

You are what makes him human, let him be with you and protect you. Then he will behave again.

Yuri

He doesn't put the pieces of his feelings together fast. Feelings have always been a hard point for him, even his own.

But... he doesn't like being without you. Of course he always hated whenever you were around any of those prissy Frosthime assholes. But... now it has extended to anyone but him.

What have you done to him?

Yuri dosent have the time to leave the dorm often. He has too much important work to do. He cant worry over what stupidity you do or what others may do to you.

So instead, he uses one of the paitent rooms in the catacombs between Mortkraken and Darkwick general. This will be your room. This is where he will know you are safe, healthy, and alive.

Takeing you there was an easy task for him, naturally. Now, he can dote on you and take care of you. He will learn what your needs are and grow to anticipate them. He will take good care of you.

He isn't being evil or cruel... he is being attentive and loving like a good boyfriend would be.

Jiro

He keeps a close eye on his health so that he can get help from Yuri whenever he needs it.

His heart, raceing whenever he was around, you was a key indicator for him realizing his feelings.

Although, he didn't realize how far it went.

He takes every chance possible to do work with you, whether it's to check on your health or if it's actual school work. It doesn't matter. He likes being with you and holding you.

You are so small to him. He finds it perfect and can't help but smile.

He knows all the things he would do to keep that smile safe.

He would never hinder your life in any way. He understands that you need to be free. Just know, whoever breaks that smile of yours is going to pay dearly for that crime.

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Dollcalypse: Infection

Lila hears a deafening shatter.

She awakes from her daze just in time to feel the doll limply fall away from her hug. It stumbles back from her, tiny pieces of its porcelain face crumbling to the ground as it collapses into a slump against a nearby wall.

"A-Abby?" The person, standing at her side with a hammer in hand. "Did... did that thing..."

"I don't know, I just... I saw it, and it looked so harmless, so sad, and... I just, let my guard down, and it felt so right! Fuck, I..." She stares down at her hands, desperately fumbling for a justification, and escape. She finds nothing. "I'm... sorry. I'm so sorry."

"There's a cure." Lila steps forward, eager to comfort the victim, but flinches away at the last moment. "There... there has to be, we can-"

Abigail raises her hand, and stops, with it hovering between them. With a withdrawn sigh, she slowly retracts it, scared that whatever was within that thing is already inside her. So, she stands, patient and polite.

"There's isn't. Please don't waste my last day searching."

The desperate words catch in her throat just long enough to make her feel like she was drowning. "What if we..." She searches, her eye watering up and down the other girl's body. Her forearms are already pale, empty of blood. "We can cut off your arm, or something. Stop it from spreading, before..."

All Abigail can do is softly shake her head. "It got into my brain before anything else. It snuck in, and it... it just said such nice words, about how it fe-"

She stops. Before it can spread.

Lila tries to speak, and falters. She doesn't understand how Abby seems so calm, so undisturbed. And yet, she understands perfectly. It's not a doll's purpose to be too emotional. Not hers, it would seem.

"...Do you still love me?"

"More than anything, Miss."

It's not her anymore. It's too calm, too polite. It's not her friend.

It takes her longer to speak, this time. Time wasted. "Do you still want me to kill you?"

It nods. "Please, Miss. while this one can still bleed out." The doll curtsies, keeping its head low even as it feels the gun cock against it

"...what does it feel like? To be a doll"

She tries to resist, for a fleeting moment. It is snuffed away as quickly as it's summoned. "It's wonderful, Miss. I feels truly calm for the first time. I... this one doesn't mind dying like this."

"I don't want to do this." A fearful twitch of the arm. "Please don't make me."

"You need to hurry, Miss." The doll does not move. "This one is worried it will convert you. It knows how much you care about your self."

"I care about you, more. I love you."

The doll remains as it is, even as it watches the gun clatter uselessly to the ground. The safety is still on.

"...are you sure, Miss?"

Its answer was an embrace, arms wrapped around its torso and pulling it against Lila's warmth. "I don't care what happens to me," She shakes from herself, relieved. "as long as I'm with whatever's left of you."

The doll smiles, with the first serenity Lila had ever seen it show, as it hugs its love in return.

There, they remain, ever still.

[lovelybucky1]

okay so dad!matt is rotting my brain so how about this: matt is older than reader and somehow she comes into his life, whether she be a client or the daughter of a client/friend. he takes her on almost like a protégé, maybe given her an internship at the firm. he tells himself it's because he wants to protect her like he would a daughter but in secret he can't stop thinking about bending her over his desk.

he is so ashamed of his feelings and hide them very well but quickly notices that she trusts him "like a father".

she on the other hand is quite attracted to him but she also sees him as a protective father figure and feels ashamed of her attraction because "that's almost her dad"

lots of pining and being confused by their moral compasses and immense attraction and need for the other person and ahhhhhh

- 🪆

i love this so much oh my god

you’re the daughter of a long time and well paying client of matt’s. when the client asked if his daughter could intern at murdock and mcduffie, it was hard for matt to say no. you don’t bite he hand that feeds, after all. he was worried about having a spoiled young girl from harvard law working under him, seeing as he specializes in helping the less fortunate, but that turned out to not be his biggest problem.

you’re sweet, kind, humble, and devastatingly sexy. devastating because you’re in your early twenties and he’s pushing forty.

he tried so hard to keep it professional, but you were insistent on getting to know him on a personal level and he couldn’t resist. after you became closer than the typical boss/employee, he tried to friendzone you, or more accurately, dad-zone you. he took on a mentor role and constantly called you kid, trying to put that space between the two of you. no matter how many times he reminded himself of your age, your inexperience, your innocence,he couldn’t help but imagine you bent over his desk.

despite how perceptive he usually his, he had no idea you felt the same. his own feelings were clouding his judgement and he didn’t realize how your heart races when you see him, how it skips when he called you kid in that warm, gentle tone. you didn’t mean to fall for your boss. you know he’s way too old for you and you’ve even referred to him as your work dad, but late at night, your fantasies always include him.

you started to dress up more for work which feels ironic because you work for a blind man, but you don’t know what else to do. somehow he seems to have taken notice. your skirts are shorter, still professional, but they show off more of your legs. you bought a new perfume, something sweet and alluring. you even started wearing your hair different, just to get his attention.

the two of you reach your boiling point late one evening while you’re helping him work on his opening statement. he had asked you to read it back to him, partly to catch errors, but mostly because he wanted to listen to your voice. you’re sitting close, your voice soft in the small, quiet room. this time, matt is paying attention to all of his senses and catches how your breath hitches when his thigh makes contact with yours.

tension is thick in the air, confessions sit heavy on the tips of your tongues.

“matt-”

“don’t.”

“but-“

“we can’t.”

it’s as close as you can get to confronting it without putting words to your feelings. no i’m too old, i’m your boss, i’m friends with your father. just, we can’t.

as much as it kills you, you understand. in fact, you understand so well that you begin to date another lawyer at the firm. he’s a first year from harvard, and despite being in the program at the same time, you never saw him around campus. he’s exceptional, a literal genius, and he treats you well. he’s great, except he’s not matt.

its been two months and you’re working late with matt again, scanning case files in his office. at this hour, in this small of a space, nothing good can come. you’re close again, touching at the ankles, thighs, and almost the shoulder.

“sweetheart-“

“don’t.”

“please-“

“we can’t.”

no i’m too young, i’m with someone else, you’re my boss. just we can’t.

“i don’t care,” he breathes.

he grabs your face and kisses you, lips gentle but full of passion, longing, and something darker. something you’ve both been pushing down since you’ve started working together.

“matt,” you gasp.

“i can’t stop myself,” he mumbles against your lips.

you have no idea the devil that hides behind the mask of matt murdock.

[cbeargyu]

hi! can i request a story with nct Mark like the movie Flipped, I just love the "she fell first, he fell harder" trope. Y/n is so persistent about showing Mark how much she likes him. Since everyone knows her crush on Mark, the others tease him, which annoys him at some point & told y/n off. Hurt, Y/n kind of distanced herself for a while. During those times she got closer to another member (maybe jeno or haechan), which then makes Mark even more annoyed, not realizing he's actually jealous. Angst slow burn w/ a happy ending. I'm sorry if it's too detailed 😅 -☕️ anon

the years that I loved you

summary: you've been secretly in love with mark for years, but he's always kept his distance, even though you've grown closer over time. after a failed attempt to move on with jeno, you realize you can’t forget mark. slowly, mark starts to notice his own feelings for you.

pairing: mark x fem!reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn romance, angst, one-sided love, fluff, college au, drama, confessions of love, she fell first but he fell harder trope.

warnings: mentions of unrequited love, emotional tension and angst, heartbreak, love triangle, public embarrassment/confessions, self-discovery and emotional growth.

wc: 12,9k

notes: anon, did you read my drafts or what? because i had this exact idea written down, even with jeno as the romantic interest omg hahaha but i never finished it because i got lazy lol, i'm not really into watching movies, so when i searched for the one you mentioned, i thought i’d have to research it to be able to write about it, but then i remembered i watched it about two years ago haha, looking for inspiration exactly, what a nice coincidence anon, i hope you like what i write <3

you were thirteen when you realized mark lee wasn’t just your brother’s best friend.

he was the boy with soft eyes who always greeted your mom with a polite smile, the one who helped your dad carry groceries without being asked, the one who laughed with jaemin until their stomachs hurt and then turned to you—quiet, awkward you—and asked if you wanted to join them at the convenience store.

he noticed you. always.

and god, that was dangerous.

you kept your secret like it was sacred. folded it between pages of your diary, whispered it into the pillow late at night when your chest hurt with the weight of wanting someone who would never be yours. he was two years older. already shining, already so good.

you thought maybe—just maybe—he was too good to break your heart.

you waited until his last day of middle school. you had written the letter three times, burned one, hid another. the final version trembled in your hands as you gave it to him behind the school gate.

“please don’t read it here,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

“i won’t,” he promised, gentle as ever. “don’t worry, okay?”

and you believed him. you always believed him.

but the next afternoon, he asked to meet you behind the gym.

it was quiet. too quiet.

you remember the way he scratched the back of his neck, the way he couldn’t quite look at you when he said, “you’re really important to me. like a little sister, you know?”

you smiled, because you didn’t know what else to do. you smiled as your eyes blurred.

and then you cried—ugly, shaking, childlike sobs you couldn’t hold back.

he tried to hug you, but it made it worse.

he said, “i’m sorry.”

he said, “i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

he said everything right.

but it didn’t matter.

because you were thirteen, and he was mark lee, and you had just learned that love doesn’t always mean something back.

high school didn’t make it easier. if anything, it made everything worse.

you tried. god, you really tried to move on—swallowed the ache, buried it deep under textbooks, sketchbooks, extracurriculars. you learned to walk past him in the hallways without letting your gaze linger too long, learned to smile politely when he said “hi” like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t held your broken heart in his hands behind the gym that day and handed it back to you gently, still cracked.

but the problem was: mark never changed.

he was still that boy—soft-spoken, warm, radiant. the kind of person who made you want to be better just by existing near him. and worse, he was always there.

your house, once a quiet place of safety, had become a second home for jaemin’s band of loud, chaotic friends. most days, the living room was full of snacks, game controllers, and laughter. renjun’s sarcasm echoing through the hall, haechan draped across the couch like he owned the place, chenle’s laugh piercing through every door, jisung awkwardly trailing behind them with his phone glued to his hand. and of course, mark. always mark.

sometimes he’d be in the backyard with your brother, their laughter drifting through the window while you did homework at the kitchen table, pencil trembling slightly every time he called your name to offer you a slice of pizza or a bottle of soda. sometimes he’d walk past you in the hallway and lightly ruffle your hair like he used to when you were twelve, before he knew how deeply you felt for him. before you knew what it meant to love someone who couldn’t love you back.

he still smiled at you like you were made of sunlight. still hugged you during holidays, still handed you wrapped presents on your birthday with that same soft voice: “happy birthday. i hope you like it.”

you hated how much you always did.

you hated how his scent lingered on the gifts long after you’d hidden them at the back of your closet. you hated how you still looked forward to seeing him, how your chest still fluttered when he said your name, how you felt thirteen and stupid every single time he was near.

but the worst was that he didn’t seem affected at all.

to him, nothing had changed. to you, everything had.

one rainy afternoon, you came home early to find the living room empty for once—blissfully silent. you kicked off your shoes, soaked to the ankle, hair damp and cheeks flushed from running back from school before the storm broke harder. you turned the corner to grab a towel from the laundry room when you saw him.

mark was there.

he stood by the window, alone, watching the rain. his hands were in the pockets of his black hoodie, hair slightly messy, lips parted in thought. he looked older. softer. like the kind of boy who belonged in a novel, not real life.

he turned when he heard your footsteps and smiled without hesitation. “hey,” he said, like it didn’t hurt, like your heart didn’t still beat for him in every goddamn way.

“hi,” you managed, holding the towel tighter against your chest.

“you’re drenched,” he said, walking toward you. “you’ll catch a cold.”

he was too close. you could smell the citrus of his shampoo, the faint vanilla of his cologne. when he reached out to brush a wet strand of hair from your cheek, you flinched—not visibly, just enough for him to stop, hand frozen mid-air.

“sorry,” he said, withdrawing. “force of habit.”

you shook your head, stepping back. “it’s fine.”

but it wasn’t. nothing ever was.

you escaped upstairs before your voice could betray you.

two weeks later, you found yourself sitting in the second row of the school auditorium, knees bouncing under the dim lights, your palms cold against the fabric of your skirt.

mark was playing romeo.

you’d heard about it from jaemin, of course—how their teacher insisted he was perfect for the role, how he’d been rehearsing every afternoon, how the girl playing juliet had been a little too eager during practice.

and now, here you were. watching him on stage under golden light, speaking lines you knew he barely even had to memorize—his voice calm, lyrical, achingly beautiful. his every movement was precise, full of emotion. he touched juliet’s face like it was made of glass, like she was something sacred.

you hated her.

she smiled when he held her hand. she leaned into him during the balcony scene. you saw her lips part just before the final act, the tension thick in the air as mark cupped her face. and then—slowly, tragically—he leaned in.

his lips brushed hers. soft. slow. real.

your throat closed.

your chest twisted so violently you thought you might get up and run. but your body stayed rooted in place, forced to watch as they collapsed together on the floor in a mock death, fingers intertwined, her head resting on his shoulder.

the applause was thunderous. everyone stood.

you did not.

you waited until after the show to find him. your feet carried you to the back hallway of the auditorium like they had minds of their own. your heart was a drum, wild and panicked.

he smiled when he saw you—still dressed in costume, hair tousled, sweat glistening on his brow.

“did you like it?” he asked, laughing softly. “i was so nervous.”

you looked at him. really looked.

“i still like you,” you said.

just like that.

no warning. no buildup. no sugarcoated version.

you were tired of pretending.

he froze. his smile dropped.

“i thought… i thought you were over it,” he said quietly.

“i wanted to be,” you whispered. “but i’m not. and watching you up there—watching her kiss you—i couldn’t pretend anymore.”

he looked down. exhaled slowly. ran a hand through his hair.

“you know i care about you,” he said gently, “but not like that. i’m sorry...”

same words.

same ache.

different year.

his hands lowered slowly, as if he suddenly didn’t know what to do with them. his breath grew deeper, slower. he was about to say something. you were going to let him speak. but before he could, you stepped forward, close enough that he had no choice but to truly see you, to hear you, to feel the heat of your words.

“i don’t accept it.”

mark blinked. “what?”

you were trembling on the inside, but you didn’t back down. “i won’t accept a no. not yet. i’ve been in love with you for as long as i can remember, mark. and yeah, maybe you’ll never see me the way i see you. maybe you’ll never feel the same. but i’m not giving up. because i can’t. even if you ignore me, even if you keep looking at me like i’m just jaemin’s little sister… my feelings for you aren’t going anywhere.”

the silence was a wall between you. thick. breathless. mark didn’t know where to look. his jaw clenched slightly. but you saw it—how hard he swallowed, the way his throat bobbed like your words had tied a knot in it. and then… that little flush, that faint blush coloring his cheeks.

he didn’t respond. he just dropped his eyes and muttered something you couldn’t quite catch before saying he had to get back to the guys.

you stayed behind, again. but this time, something was different.

you weren’t broken.

you were alive.

the days after that were… strange.

you didn’t hide anymore. you didn’t avoid looking at him, didn’t steer away when he came into your house, didn’t pretend it didn’t still ache. if you saw him, you greeted him with a soft smile. if he made a comment, you replied with one slightly sweeter. if you were near, you allowed yourself to lean in ever so slightly, as if pulled by something invisible.

mark said nothing.

but he noticed.

and everyone else did too.

renjun was the first to ask—just a casual afternoon in the backyard, you laying on a blanket with a book, the boys talking nonsense as usual. it happened right after mark came back from the kitchen and handed you a water bottle without you asking, like he already knew you’d need it.

“are you guys, like… a thing?” renjun asked, half-joking, half-serious.

mark laughed awkwardly. “what? no. of course not.”

but you looked up from your book, calm, almost proud.

“i like mark,” you said. not shy, not hesitant.

the silence was immediate.

haechan stopped chewing his gum. jisung stared at you like you’d grown horns. chenle let out a choked “wait—seriously?” and jaemin… jaemin looked at you like he’d just uncovered a secret that had always been in plain sight.

mark tensed. his hand around the empty bottle clenched slightly. he didn’t look at you. but you looked at him.

“i like him,” you repeated, voice steady. “i don’t know if that’ll ever change. for now, it hasn’t.”

the air shifted, thick with something unspoken. jaemin cleared his throat.

“wow… okay, didn’t see that coming.”

mark let out a nervous chuckle. “seriously, there’s nothing going on.”

you smiled softly. “not yet.”

and that was that.

they tried to go back to talking about something else, but the topic hung in the air like perfume—sweet, heavy, impossible to ignore.

after that day, the looks between you and mark carried weight. not just because of what you felt, but because now everyone knew. his behavior became more cautious, measured, like every move might be misread, like every glance might be taken the wrong way.

but he still looked at you.

he still smiled.

sometimes, he still sought you out without realizing it.

and you…

you kept loving him, even when it wasn’t a secret anymore.

valentine’s day hit the school like a storm.

the halls were dripping in pink and red, balloons bumping against lockers, the air thick with the scent of cheap chocolate and desperation. you weren’t immune to it—if anything, you were worse.

you had spent the night before in your kitchen, standing over a counter covered in baking disasters, painstakingly melting chocolate, shaping little hearts by hand, writing stupid tiny notes on colorful slips of paper. you stayed up until almost three in the morning, ignoring your mother’s concerned looks, all for one boy.

mark lee.

you didn’t half-ass it either. no. you went full force.

you woke up at five a.m. on valentine’s day, backpack bursting with gifts, heart pounding with something between excitement and fear. the moment you got to school, you made a beeline for his locker. you stuffed it full—letter after letter, pink and red envelopes practically exploding out of the sides. every letter started the same way, "dear mark, i really really like you," and got progressively more unhinged as you got sleepier. one of them ended with a doodle of you two riding off into the sunset on a giant gummy bear. you didn’t even regret it.

and then, the chocolates. you had them in a heart-shaped box you decorated yourself, glitter peeling off the sides. you snuck into his classroom early, your hands shaking, and dumped them right on top of his desk—pile after pile of messy, misshapen chocolate hearts, each one lovingly wrapped in plastic and tied with curly red ribbon.

it wasn’t subtle. it wasn’t graceful.

but it was you.

when mark walked into class later, you watched from behind the doorframe like some kind of deranged cupid. he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the mountain of candy and cards like it might explode. his friends started laughing—haechan howling loud enough to draw attention from other classrooms, renjun pretending to cry from how beautiful it was, jisung muttering “bro’s got a stalker” under his breath while chenle recorded everything on his phone.

mark didn’t get mad.

he didn’t yell.

he just... looked so painfully polite about the whole thing, his bright smile twitching at the corners, his ears turning an adorable shade of pink. he stood there, awkward, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes scanning for an escape route.

you chose that exact moment to spring.

you practically bounced up to him, heart hammering, face on fire, and blurted out in front of everyone, “mark! i like you! a lot! like, a lot a lot! like, marry-me-under-a-rainbow kind of a lot!”

you didn’t know where that last part came from. you regretted it immediately.

mark laughed. this soft, helpless little sound that made your chest ache. he looked at you—really looked at you—and for a second, you could almost believe he was touched. or maybe just very, very overwhelmed.

"thank you," he said gently, voice a little strained. "you’re really sweet. but—uh—i think... we should just stay friends, yeah?"

you nodded furiously, tears pricking at the back of your eyes, but you smiled through it because you were determined not to make it worse.

"friends! sure! but, like, if you change your mind... i'm available. permanently."

haechan choked. chenle dropped his phone from laughing too hard. renjun whispered “oh my god, she’s serious,” like he was witnessing a car crash in slow motion.

mark gave you a look, half grateful, half pleading, like he was begging the universe to save him from this situation without hurting you. he patted your head—your actual head, like you were a golden retriever—and hurried to clean up the mess you’d left.

the rest of the day, every time you crossed paths, you beamed at him and chirped "i like you!" like it was a greeting. he’d flinch slightly every time, force that damn brilliant smile, and respond with a tiny nod or a mumbled "thank you..." before speed-walking away like his life depended on it.

it became a running joke. teachers started asking him about his “secret admirer.” students left fake valentines in his locker just to mess with him. he took it all in stride, patient and painfully kind, but you knew deep down it was wearing him out.

still, you couldn’t help it. you were in too deep.

when the final bell rang, and you caught him stuffing all your letters into his bag like he was trying to hide contraband, you grinned so wide your cheeks hurt.

maybe, you thought, love didn’t have to be perfect to be real.

even if it was one-sided. even if it was a little ridiculous.

your heart still beat for him. and for now, that was enough.

you followed him to university without a second thought.

not because you were obsessed. not because you were desperate.

maybe it sounded crazier when you said it out loud, like some reckless teenage daydream you should have outgrown by now, but in your heart, it had always been simple. wherever mark went, you wanted to go too. so when he decided to major in literature at a university two cities away, you didn’t hesitate—you applied to the same program, you studied harder than you ever had in your life, and when that acceptance letter came, you clutched it to your chest and cried, thinking it was fate smiling at you.

you convinced yourself that it was a new beginning, that maybe, somehow, away from the crowded hallways of high school and the well-worn patterns of rejection and affection, things could be different. you could be different. you could be the kind of girl he might actually look at twice.

but reality wasn’t a fairytale, and no amount of shared classes or accidental brushings of hands across desks could change the fact that mark had drawn a line in the sand years ago—and he wasn’t about to cross it.

still, you stayed close, orbiting him like a stubborn, quiet moon, your love for him woven into every choice you made, every dream you dared to have.

he was still kind. still soft-spoken and careful with your heart. he’d pull out chairs for you in lecture halls, lend you his notes when you were sick, laugh at your dry jokes when no one else did. he still bought you birthday gifts—carefully wrapped, always with a little handwritten note in his neat handwriting. still hugged you every christmas. still remembered your favorite snacks and left them on your desk when you were cramming.

but he never crossed the line.

mark lee was a boy of boundaries. polite, good, respectful. especially with you.

especially because of jaemin.

the others —haechan, chenle, renjun, even jisung—had started making comments. light teasing when mark waited for you outside your dorm. when your fingers brushed as you passed him a pen. when he remembered things you said in passing and brought them up weeks later.

“just date already.”

“you’d make such a cute couple.”

“jaemin would murder you, but worth it.”

but jaemin never laughed. he’d stare straight ahead, jaw clenched, eyes hard.

“it’s not happening,” he’d say flatly. “drop it.”

and mark—mark would just smile and shake his head.

“we’re just friends.”

always the same line. always gentle. always final.

and still, you stayed. because a piece of you still hoped. still wondered if maybe, maybe, something would shift.

until summer.

that was when everything changed.

it started small.

mark smiling at his phone when he thought no one was looking. mark turning down movie nights, saying he was “tired” or “busy.” mark humming under his breath as he walked across campus, like he couldn’t help it.

he looked… lighter.

brighter.

and he wasn’t looking at you.

you found out by accident.

a lazy sunday. mark had left his phone on the coffee table in the shared dorm lounge while he went to grab snacks. a message popped up, screen lighting briefly.

“can’t wait to see you again 💛” from: yerim 🍒

kim yerim.

a girl from another department. bright, confident, everything you weren’t.

you blinked at the message like it was written in another language. your throat tightened. your hands went cold. you couldn’t look away.

when mark came back into the room, smiling like he always did, you could barely breathe. he didn’t notice the way your gaze dropped. or maybe he did, but he didn’t say anything. just offered you a packet of chips like nothing had changed.

but everything had.

by the time the others found out, mark and yerim had been quietly seeing each other for nearly two months.

the teasing stopped.

no more jokes. no more comments. just a strange, heavy silence.

even haechan kept quiet. only once, after a long night out, he said it in a low voice—when mark had gone off to call her, when everyone else was half-asleep on the floor.

“you’d be better for him.”

you looked up. your eyes were wet. you hadn’t even noticed.

haechan’s gaze softened. “but he’s not ready to see that, huh?”

you didn’t answer.

because what was there to say?

you’d loved mark for so long it had become a part of your identity. it was in the way you walked, the way you chose your classes, the way your heart lit up every time you saw him laugh.

but he was never yours.

and now, there was someone else who made him laugh. someone he looked at like that. and the worst part?

he looked happy.

genuinely, radiantly happy. the kind of happy that couldn’t be faked.

so you smiled too. you congratulated him. you listened to him talk about yerim with soft eyes and careful words.

and when you were alone, you cried into your pillow, biting down hard to keep the sound in.

because this wasn’t betrayal. this wasn’t a lie. this was just love—one-sided, unchanging, and devastating.

you didn’t blame him.

you just didn’t know how to stop loving him.

you weren’t sure when yerim began to notice.

maybe it was the way you went quiet whenever mark entered the room. maybe it was how your eyes never quite met his anymore. or maybe it was something deeper—something only another woman could sense. a kind of residual ache, the ghost of something that used to be almost something.

she never confronted you. never threw it in your face.

but her gaze lingered.

a little longer than necessary. a little too perceptive. especially when mark spoke your name.

and mark—he started choosing his words more carefully. his laughter dimmed around you, like he didn’t know how to act anymore. like being near you was stepping into a room still filled with the scent of a fire long gone out.

you weren’t mad. you were exhausted.

your chest carried the weight of every second you’d spent wishing for something that never existed outside your imagination. you’d painted a fantasy in your mind and clung to it like a lifeline, and for what? he never promised you anything. never kissed you. never called you “mine.”

he was just… kind. and you were just stupid.

so when you met lee jeno, it was like inhaling after drowning.

he was part of the sports science department—tall, tan, always wearing that damned sleeveless hoodie like he knew the effect it had on people. he had this cocky little smile and a voice that made you pause. and god, he was smooth. but not in a sleazy way.

jeno was bright in a way mark never was. he didn’t hesitate. he didn’t overthink.

he noticed you from the first time you sat across from him in a shared elective. you were sketching half-distractedly, and he leaned over with that grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"you always draw like the world’s ending tomorrow?"

you blinked up at him, startled. "excuse me?"

he just laughed. “you’re good. i like intense girls.”

you rolled your eyes. but he didn’t stop talking to you after that. he’d walk you to class, show up with energy drinks during finals, and compliment the color of your nails like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

and one day, without drama or overthinking, he just asked:

“go out with me.”

no hidden meanings. no caution. just jeno, smiling, offering you something real.

you hesitated.

you thought of mark. of his careful hands, his lingering warmth, the smile he used to give you before it all got awkward. but that was the thing—it had gotten awkward. broken. distant. he belonged to someone else now. he never belonged to you.

so you said yes.

after weeks of holding onto a secret that was slowly tearing you apart, you finally decided to give jeno a chance. you couldn’t keep pretending like mark didn’t already have your heart in his hands, even if he didn’t want it. you couldn’t keep letting your feelings for him dictate everything, so when jeno, the charming and confident guy from your physical education class, asked you out one day, you hesitated.

you hesitated for a long time, thinking of how many times mark had walked right past you, never once acknowledging your heart, never once looking at you in a way that made you feel more than just his friend’s younger sister.

but this time, it was different. jeno was persistent, and there was a spark in his smile that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could move on. so, after a long conversation with yourself and an even longer discussion with your heart, you said yes. but you weren’t going to drag jeno into something he wasn’t prepared for, so before you agreed to anything, you told him the truth.

“i’ve been in love with someone else for so long,” you admitted, your voice soft, vulnerable. “and i don’t know if i can just let go of that... but i want to try. i want to try with you.”

jeno smiled at you, and his eyes softened, like he understood. “i know,” he said, his voice steady. “i’ve seen it. but i’ll do my best to make you forget about him. i’ll do everything i can so that you only look at me the way you looked at him.”

it wasn’t a promise of forever, but it was a promise to try. and for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could start anew. so you accepted, feeling a little lighter, but still carrying the weight of what had once been.

the first few days were like walking on air. jeno was easy to be around—funny, charming, the kind of guy who made you feel like you mattered. when you walked around campus together, everyone noticed. people were happy for you, the long-lost couple that everyone was rooting for. but mark? mark looked like he had swallowed something bitter.

mark had never been good at hiding his feelings, and even if he tried, yerim saw right through him. it had been a few weeks since you and jeno started dating, and mark’s behavior was becoming more noticeable by the day. his lingering stares, the way he would look at you and jeno when you walked into a room together—yerim had seen enough. she had been patient with him, but there was only so much a person could tolerate.

you caught him looking at you and jeno one too many times, his eyes narrowed and his lips set in a firm line. it made you uncomfortable, the way he would glance at you, then at jeno, like he was calculating something, weighing something in his mind. but you didn’t think much of it until the day he pulled you aside after a class, his face clouded with something unreadable.

“hey,” he started, his voice softer than usual, though there was still a bite to it. “i don’t think jeno is good for you.”

you blinked, startled. “what do you mean?” you asked, confused, but also feeling a knot tighten in your chest. why was he saying this now? after all this time?

mark rubbed the back of his neck, looking uneasy. “i mean... you’re my friend, and i care about you. i just don’t think he’s the right person for you. you deserve better than him.”

you could feel your heart racing. “what do you know about what’s good for me or not?” you replied, your tone sharp. “you’re not my... you’re not my anything, mark. i don’t need you to tell me what’s best for me.”

he frowned, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he didn’t apologize. instead, he sighed. “i’m just looking out for you, okay? you’re... important to me.”

the words stung more than they should have. important to him. you let out a bitter laugh. “important to you? you’ve barely noticed me for years, mark. don’t try to pull that with me now.”

his face shifted, caught somewhere between frustration and something else that you couldn’t quite place. “i’m serious, okay? just... be careful with jeno.”

before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, feeling more confused than ever.

but things didn’t stop there.

it wasn’t just that mark had said what he said—it was the way he started acting afterward. jeno was around, and whenever jeno was around, mark seemed to get this look in his eyes, like he was watching you two, trying to figure out something that wasn’t adding up. he started showing up more, always offering you little things, always asking if you needed anything. he would bring you your favorite coffee between classes, or linger a little longer than usual when he saw you and jeno walking together.

you noticed it. everyone noticed it. especially yerim.

it was one afternoon in the student lounge when yerim couldn’t hold it in any longer. “mark,” she said, voice tight, “you’re doing it again. you’ve been acting like this... like you’re in love with her.”

mark froze, caught in the act of watching you laugh with jeno. he opened his mouth to deny it, but yerim didn’t let him. “don’t even try to deny it,” she continued. “you’re constantly around her, always looking at her like you want something more. you’re jealous every time jeno is near her.”

mark looked at her, eyes wide with shock. “i’m not—i mean, no, that’s not it.”

“really?” yerim’s voice was sharp now. “because it looks like it. you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

the words hung in the air like a weight neither of them could lift. mark’s face went pale. he opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out at first. then, slowly, he shook his head, almost as if to convince himself.

“no,” he muttered. “i’m not.”

yerim stared at him for a long moment, her expression a mix of disbelief and something more profound. “mark... you can’t just keep pretending you don’t care about her. you’ve been doing it for years, and now you’re pushing jeno away like this. stop lying to yourself.”

he didn’t say anything. he just stood there, looking at you as you laughed with jeno, the smile on your face not quite reaching his eyes anymore.

it was the last straw when mark once again casually mentioned your name while they were eating lunch together, and yerim couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

“mark,” yerim began, her voice quiet but firm. “i can’t keep doing this.”

mark looked up from his phone, confused. “what do you mean?” he asked, trying to mask the tension in his voice.

“this,” she motioned between the two of them, the table between them feeling like a chasm. “your obsession with her. it’s becoming impossible to ignore, and frankly, i’m tired of it.”

he blinked, shocked by her bluntness. “what are you talking about? i’m not obsessed with anyone.”

“oh, really?” yerim’s eyes narrowed, her tone ice-cold now. “because every time i bring something up, you somehow find a way to tie it back to her. last week, we were talking about your plans for the summer, and you—” she paused, shaking her head as if in disbelief, “you brought her up. again. you’re not fooling me, mark. it’s always about her. i’m starting to think you’re not really here with me.”

mark opened his mouth to argue, but yerim held up her hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “no. don’t try to lie to me. you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

the words hit him like a punch to the gut. he looked away, unable to meet her gaze. a flash of memories flashed in his mind—those moments when your name slipped out of his mouth without even thinking, how he’d catch himself whenever he accidentally mentioned you during their time together.

he remembered the time they were having a casual dinner at a restaurant and he had jokingly said, “y/n would love this dish.” yerim had paused, her fork mid-air, her eyes narrowing. but mark quickly covered it up, offering a distracted smile, as if it didn’t mean anything. another time, they were walking through the campus, and he had said, “this place reminds me of something y/n and i used to do.” yerim had looked at him, confusion and hurt crossing her face, but mark had just shrugged it off. it wasn’t anything, he assured her. just memories of a friendship.

but yerim wasn’t stupid. and she was done pretending she didn’t see it.

“you’ve been so distracted, mark. and i’m over it,” yerim’s voice grew stronger now, the anger finally coming through. “you don’t have the right to string me along while you’re still hung up on someone else.”

mark’s heart raced in his chest, the weight of her words sinking in. he couldn’t deny it anymore. yerim wasn’t wrong, and he hated himself for it. “i didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just... y/n... i never meant to hurt you.”

but yerim wasn’t having it. she was proud, and she recognized her worth. her eyes flashed with frustration as she stood up from the table, throwing her napkin down with a sharp motion. “it doesn’t matter what you meant, mark. what matters is that you’ve been leading me on, and i’m done. i’m not going to sit here and pretend everything’s fine when you clearly can’t even give me your full attention.”

mark stood up too, his voice soft, almost pleading. “yerim, please don’t—”

“no, mark. i’ve had enough. i need someone who’s here for me, not for someone else.” she turned to leave, but stopped at the door, her back still to him. “think about it, mark. because if you’re not careful, you’re going to lose both of us.”

the door slammed shut behind her, and mark stood there in silence, feeling the weight of her words settle in. but before he could process what had just happened, his phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, and there it was again—your name, flashing on the screen.

a flood of memories hit him all at once—the late-night talks with you, the way he had always put you on a pedestal, and how, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. he couldn’t stop caring about you. yerim had been right. it had been you, always you.

but that wasn’t all. as he sat there, the memories of his time with yerim also came flooding back. the times she’d gotten upset with him for talking about you too much. he had brushed it off, saying it was nothing, just casual references. but deep down, he knew he was never really there for her. not the way she deserved.

a sharp pain twisted in his chest, and he realized something—yerim had always been more than just a girlfriend to him. she was a distraction, a way to cover up the hole in his heart that he refused to acknowledge. but now, everything felt different.

it was supposed to be a day of fun, something to make you forget. jeno had planned a trip to the amusement park, hoping that the laughter, the rides, and the sweet cotton candy would distract you from everything that had been weighing heavily on your heart. he was always there for you, attentive and sweet, trying his best to make you feel special. his hand never left yours, and he had a way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even though you weren't sure it ever would be.

but as the day went on, the fun rides, the silly carnival games, and even jeno’s bright smile couldn’t keep your thoughts from drifting back to mark. you tried so hard to push them away, to focus on the moment, on the person beside you who was giving you his all. jeno was perfect. he was patient, kind, charming in ways that made you laugh without even trying. but no matter how much he tried to pull you out of the hole you’d fallen into, mark was still there, lingering in your heart like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

it wasn’t until you were sitting on a bench near the Ferris wheel, looking out at the glowing lights of the park, that the dam finally broke. tears blurred your vision, and for the first time in a long while, you let them fall. jeno’s hand gently cupped your face, his thumb wiping away the first tear, and then another, as his soft voice reached your ears.

“hey,” he murmured, his eyes filled with concern and something deeper, like he already knew what was happening. “what’s going on?”

you shook your head, struggling to find the right words. “i... i’m so sorry, jeno. i thought i could... but i can’t. i can’t stop thinking about him.” your voice cracked, and the sobs you had been holding back spilled out. “it’s not fair to you. i feel like i’m using you, but i can’t... i can’t let go of mark.”

jeno stayed quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on your cheek, tender and warm. he didn’t look hurt, not the way you expected him to. instead, his eyes were filled with understanding, the kind of understanding that made your chest ache even more.

“you don’t have to apologize,” he said softly, his voice steady and calm. “you can’t force yourself to move on, y/n. you can’t just push those feelings aside because you want them to go away. i know that. i won’t ask you to stop thinking about him, or to stop loving him. but you need to realize that you’re only hurting yourself by holding onto something that might never be.” he paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words, his thumb tracing your cheek slowly. “if you’re not ready for this, if you’re not ready for me, then it’s okay. we can stop here.”

his words cut deeper than you expected. you looked at him, and in his eyes, you saw nothing but kindness, the kind of person who would never push you, who would never force you to be someone you weren’t. but that only made it harder to bear. jeno was giving you his everything, and yet, your heart was somewhere else.

“jeno...” you whispered, your voice shaking, “i’m so sorry. i wish i could just... let go. but i’m not ready for this. for us. i thought maybe... maybe i could love you. but i can’t stop thinking about him. and it’s not fair to you. you deserve someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

jeno smiled at you, but it wasn’t the smile of someone who was happy. it was a smile tinged with sadness, a resignation that seemed to come from a place of understanding rather than disappointment. he took your hand in his and held it firmly, as if to reassure you that it was okay.

“i knew,” he said quietly, his voice soft but sure. “i knew this wasn’t going to be easy. and i’m not mad at you, y/n. i’m just... i’m just glad you’re being honest with me.” he gave your hand a squeeze. “you don’t have to force anything. if you want to keep holding onto mark, then do it. if that’s what you need to do to move on, then i won’t stop you. i want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”

you blinked back more tears, unable to find the right words. jeno’s face was full of hurt, but also full of understanding, and you hated yourself for not being able to give him what he deserved. you loved jeno, you really did, but your heart was still anchored to mark, and nothing was going to change that just because you wanted it to.

“i don’t deserve you,” you said through a broken sob, the guilt overwhelming. “i’m sorry, jeno. i’m so sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” he said again, his voice steady and soothing, despite the sadness that lingered there. “just think about it, okay? take your time. but don’t stay in this place forever. don’t let yourself be stuck on someone who can’t give you the love you deserve.”

you nodded, unable to speak, and jeno, ever patient and kind, pulled you into a gentle embrace. his warmth was comforting, but it also reminded you of the hole in your heart that mark had left behind.

you could feel the weight of his words, the truth in them sinking deeper than anything you had ever felt. he wasn’t going to hold you to something that wasn’t real, and you hated the fact that it took you this long to realize it. jeno wasn’t just someone you could use to fill the gap mark had left. he was someone who deserved to be loved completely, and you weren’t capable of giving him that.

as you pulled away, you could see the understanding in jeno’s eyes, and it was that very understanding that made the pain in your chest grow even stronger. jeno wasn’t going to hold onto something that wasn’t meant to be. and maybe, just maybe, that was the hardest thing for you to accept.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice small, broken. “but i think i need to try with mark. maybe... maybe he’s the one i’m meant to be with.”

jeno smiled again, but this time, it was bittersweet. “then go for it, y/n. do what you need to do. i’m not going anywhere.”

and just like that, you knew. you had your answer. but the question now was whether mark would ever feel the same way.

the days at university dragged on, each one more suffocating than the last. you had your friends around you, and yet, you felt like you were drowning in the same sea of unresolved feelings. it was a strange comfort to be surrounded by people, but their presence didn’t erase the emptiness you felt inside. mark’s presence lingered everywhere, like a ghost. even in the cafeteria, you couldn’t escape the feeling that something was missing. his silence, his avoidance, it was all becoming too much to bear.

one morning, as you sat at a table with your friends, a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught your attention. mark had arrived late, as usual, and took a seat at the opposite end of the table, his gaze distant, his face blank. the usual chatter buzzed around you, but there was an unmistakable tension in the air. the others seemed to sense it too, noticing how quiet everything had become since the both of you had entered the room.

haechan, always the one to try and lighten the mood, leaned back in his chair, his grin wide and teasing. “so guys, what’s going on here? someone want to spill the tea?” his tone was playful, but there was an edge to it that made it clear he wasn’t fully joking.

you felt your stomach twist, but before you could respond, mark shifted in his seat, his fork tapping against his plate. the room grew unnaturally quiet, the teasing atmosphere fading into something more uncomfortable. mark’s voice broke through the silence, his tone so flat it was almost impossible to read.

“yerim… she broke up with me,” mark said, the words coming out without any emotion, almost like he was just stating a fact. it wasn’t a confession or a cry for sympathy, just an acknowledgment of something that had happened.

the table fell completely silent. everyone, even haechan, froze, unsure of what to say. it was as if the air had thickened, and no one dared to move or speak for a moment. you kept your eyes fixed on your tray, unable to meet anyone’s gaze, though you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at mark from the corner of your eye.

he was eating his breakfast now, like it was just another normal morning, his face emotionless. but you could see the small, almost imperceptible signs of tension in his posture. his shoulders were a little more rigid, and his hand gripped his fork a little tighter than usual. but he said nothing more, and the others didn’t press him for details.

renjun, ever the curious one, broke the silence by shifting in his seat and looking directly at you. “what about jeno?” he asked, his voice soft but probing.

the question hit you harder than expected. it was like everyone had just been waiting for you to talk about it, to explain what had happened between you and jeno. you hesitated, biting your lip as you considered how to respond.

“i… i ended things with jeno,” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. what? you were just starting to get into it. why would you stop now?”

you shrugged, feeling a lump form in your throat. “i wasn’t prepared for what he needed.”

another silence filled the room, heavier this time. you could feel their eyes on you, but you didn’t dare look up. the tension in the air was suffocating, and you could feel it building up around you like a thick fog. it wasn’t just the conversation that was uncomfortable—it was everything that had been left unsaid. the way mark kept his distance, the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him, the way you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were never going to be as simple as they once were.

you stole another glance at mark, your heart tightening at the sight of him. he was still eating, his movements slow and deliberate, but you could tell he was aware of the conversation. the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes flicked toward you for a fraction of a second—it all spoke volumes. but he said nothing more. he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. he wasn’t going to chase you or beg for your attention. it was always like this with him, wasn’t it? he had this way of making you feel like you were the only one who cared, while he remained distant, unreachable.

as you sat there, feeling the weight of the silence press down on you, you realized that maybe you weren’t the only one who had been avoiding the truth. maybe mark was doing the same thing. maybe he, too, had been holding back, pretending that everything was fine when it wasn’t.

and then, as if on cue, mark glanced up at you. his eyes met yours for just a moment, and for the briefest of seconds, you saw something in them—something raw, something vulnerable. but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same mask of indifference he wore so often.

you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling the ache in your chest, the pain of wanting something that wasn’t yours to have. you didn’t know what this meant, what the silence between the two of you meant. but it hurt. it hurt in ways you couldn’t explain.

suddenly, mark stood up, his chair scraping against the floor, and without a word, he grabbed his tray and walked away, leaving the table in stunned silence once again. you didn’t know if it was his way of shutting everyone out or if he was simply tired of pretending that everything was fine.

haechan glanced at you, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion. “well, that was... something,” he muttered.

but you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. all you could do was sit there, surrounded by your friends, but feeling more alone than ever before. you didn’t know what would happen next.

but you did know one thing: nothing was going to be the same again.

mark never liked to admit it, but the words yerim had said earlier echoed in his mind like a loud, unwanted reminder. "you're in love with her, aren't you?" he couldn't shake it. the way she confronted him, the certainty in her voice, it felt like she was peeling back layers of something he didn’t even know he was hiding. he tried to brush it off, told himself he wasn’t like that—he couldn’t be. you were his friend, his best friend’s sister, and he had always kept a distance for a reason.

but the more he thought about it, the more it hit him. the way his heart reacted when you gave him those letters, when you filled his locker with chocolates you’d made yourself, and when you said "i like you" so casually, so boldly, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. mark could still feel the warmth in his chest when he read your letters. he could still picture the way you’d smile at him, your eyes shining with a hope that made him feel both uneasy and... strangely content. it made him feel things he couldn’t quite name.

he had always kept his distance, tried to maintain the line between friendship and something else, because he knew it was wrong. but what if it wasn’t? what if everything he’d told himself about not crossing that line was just an excuse to avoid the truth? there were moments, fleeting but intense, when he felt your gaze on him, when he felt you watching him more than anyone else, and it made him ache in ways he didn’t understand. it was subtle, but it was there—your attention, your small gestures that spoke louder than words.

and mark... mark had never been one to ignore someone he cared about. he would remember the smallest things about you—your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, the way you hated the cold but still insisted on walking with him outside when it was freezing, just because you liked the fresh air. he noticed these things, even when he told himself it was just concern, just the instincts of a friend. but now, in the silence of his own thoughts, it became clear: he was lying to himself.

it had never been just friendship. he was always there when you needed him, always paying attention to the little things that mattered to you. he didn’t know when it started, but somewhere along the way, those small acts of kindness had shifted into something deeper, something more complicated. and now that yerim had pointed it out, it was impossible to ignore.

the worst part? he didn’t want to. he didn’t want to admit that he was falling for you, that the thought of seeing you with someone else—a guy like jeno, someone who actually understood you in ways he never could—made him feel this... discomfort, this jealousy that gnawed at him, something he hadn’t ever expected to feel. it wasn’t like he hated jeno—no, he didn’t. he was a good guy. but the idea of him being close to you, of him holding your hand, of him kissing you... it made mark want to break something, even if he didn’t understand why.

he remembered the first time you told him you liked him. it had been so simple, so direct, and yet, it had left him shaken. "i like you, mark," you had said, and his chest had tightened. it wasn’t the confession itself—it was the way you said it, the sincerity in your eyes, the lack of hesitation. you made it sound so effortless, like it was no big deal. but to him, it felt like the world was shifting beneath his feet. he had tried to laugh it off, tried to brush it aside, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

and now, as he sat there, the realization hit him full force. yerim had been right. he was in love with you. and it scared the hell out of him.

he had always tried to convince himself that it wasn’t anything more than friendship, but the truth was staring him in the face now. this—his attention to you, the way he always found a reason to be near you, the way he knew things about you that no one else did—it wasn’t friendship. it was something else. and as much as he hated to admit it, it was something he couldn’t control anymore.

mark let out a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment. he didn’t know what to do with this feeling. he didn’t know how to face you, knowing this now. he had tried so hard to keep things uncomplicated, to keep the walls up, but somewhere along the way, they had crumbled without him even realizing it.

and then he thought about the way you’d looked at him this morning, about the way you’d still found time to check in on him, even though you were moving on with jeno. he hated it. he hated how much it hurt to see you with him, how it felt like he was losing you to someone else. but what could he do? he couldn’t just throw away the bond he’d spent years building with you. and yet, now that he had started to realize the truth—that he, maybe, maybe... loved you—it felt like everything he did was too little, too late.

mark ran a hand through his hair, frustration rising in his chest. he was an idiot. he always had been. and now... now you were slipping away from him. and maybe it was for the best. maybe he didn’t deserve you.

but god, did he wish he could change everything.

the professor of your writing class, a serious man with a gaze that seemed to read the minds of his students, made an unexpected announcement at the start of the class. there was a new activity, a group project where you had to work with a "superior," as he called it, to learn more about the challenges and demands that came with quality writing. as if it wasn’t enough, the professor began mentioning names, and when he got to yours, it wasn’t just any name.

"y/n," he said, his eyes locking with yours for a moment. "i know you all know mark lee. so, he'll be your partner for this task. i’m sure you'll learn a lot from him."

the entire class turned to look at you, and the blush immediately crept up your neck. they all knew you liked mark. it was obvious to everyone. a murmur spread across the tables, and a small ripple of laughter echoed in the air. your heart raced, and you could feel the tension building. you froze for a moment before quickly trying to compose yourself.

"after this class, i’ll be heading to mark’s group. so, i’ll let him know," the professor added, barely noticing your discomfort. it was as if he had done this before, pairing you two without a second thought.

the rest of the day felt like it was dragging, and even though you tried to distract yourself with the usual distractions of university life, everything felt off. your thoughts were heavy with mark. you had been in the same place so many times before, but now, it felt different. this wasn’t just any task; this was going to force you and mark into the same space, the same moments, and you didn’t know how to handle it.

later, as you met him in the university library, the tension was palpable. everything felt too familiar yet too strange. you hadn't been so close in so long, and now you were working on something that required your attention.

at first, there were small, careful interactions. you would look at him briefly, and he’d turn away, pretending to focus on the task. but soon, those little moments started to build.

one evening, you were sitting together at a table in the library. you were writing, trying to focus on the task in front of you, but mark was watching you, the air around you both charged. the quiet hum of the library didn’t help the feeling building between the two of you.

without realizing it, your hand brushed his as you reached for the same book. your heart jumped in your chest, and you both froze. he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. when none came, he slowly took your hand into his, his fingers curling gently around yours. you didn’t pull away.

you continued to write, trying to act like nothing had changed, but every single brush of his fingers against yours made your heart race. mark, in his usual composed way, didn’t say a word. he just adjusted in his seat, took a deep breath, and continued flipping through a book with his free hand.

but you couldn’t ignore the feeling. your heart was pounding, and every moment felt too intense.

mark’s touch, his attention, was starting to feel different. the physical closeness, the subtle interactions, they were all making you feel things you didn’t know how to process.

one night, as you worked late on an essay, you were sitting in the university’s shared house, with mark next to you. the house was quiet, but the air between you two was anything but.

as you wrote the final paragraphs of your essay, mark casually placed his hand over yours, like it was the most natural thing in the world. you froze for a second, then continued writing with your other hand. he didn’t let go of your hand, though. he just sat there, quietly turning the pages of his book, but his attention was completely on you.

you could feel the warmth of his hand, his fingers lightly tracing the back of yours. you were trying to focus, but everything inside you was screaming. 

what was happening between you two?

the moment felt like it would last forever. your heart raced, and your stomach twisted with nerves. the way his hand felt against yours, the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him—it was all becoming too real. slowly, as if testing the waters, mark squeezed your hand gently, a silent acknowledgment that you were still there, together.

you tried to act normal, but the intensity of the moment was almost too much. you didn’t know what this was, but it felt like it was something more than you’d ever expected.

and as the days went by, you found that you were no longer just working with mark. you were starting to feel something again, something that wasn’t just based on your past feelings, but something that was growing stronger every time he smiled at you, every time he reached for your hand, every time his voice got just a little bit softer when he spoke to you.

you were starting to realize that you were falling for him all over again.

mark sat alone in his room that night, the moonlight spilling through the window as he stared at the pages of his book without really seeing them. his mind kept drifting back to the moments he had shared with you—those small touches, those fleeting glances that made his heart skip a beat. it was impossible to ignore the feelings that were starting to bubble up inside him.

why does it feel like this? he thought. this wasn’t supposed to happen.

he remembered when you first started writing him those letters, how you didn’t care that others saw, how you openly told him you liked him. at first, it made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t know how to react. but now, looking back, he realized it had always been more than just a casual thing for him. you had always been more.

mark sighed as he recalled those moments when he would catch himself thinking about you in class, or how his eyes would follow you around the room. it’s not just concern, is it? he thought. i care about you more than i ever wanted to admit.

he thought about how he would remember the little things—like how you always smelled like lavender, how you would always bite your lip when you were concentrating, how you’d laugh at the smallest jokes. he knew you so well. but why hadn’t he realized it before?

mark leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. it’s not just worry... it’s something more. his heart ached as he realized the truth, and it was almost too much to bear.

he was falling for you.

the days passed in a soft, almost imperceptible way, but mark could feel the change. it wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was there, lingering between you two like a quiet hum. at first, the moments were small — a brush of your fingers as you passed him the pen, a shared smile when the professor made an awkward joke, the way he always seemed to look for you in the crowded hallways. you had grown so accustomed to each other's presence that it felt almost natural to be together, even in silence. but there was a difference now.

he was aware.

mark noticed the way you would glance at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, the soft curl of your smile when he said something funny, or the way you always tried to be near him. he noticed the little things, things that before he might have brushed aside. it was easy to pretend that it was nothing, but deep down, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. you were changing something inside him, something he wasn’t sure how to handle.

they started to get closer, working together more than the project required, as if there was something magnetic pulling them together. late nights in the library, sharing the quiet, with nothing but the sound of papers shuffling and soft footsteps on the floor. the way mark would sneak glances at you when you weren’t paying attention, the way his hand would linger near yours when you passed the pencil over to him. it was simple, tender. there was no rush, no hurry — just a slow, steady burn.

one evening, as you both sat at the same table in the house, the quiet between you two felt charged with something unspoken. mark had just handed you a book you’d asked for, his fingers brushing yours for a moment too long. you felt it, and so did he.

"you’ve been quiet," mark said, his voice low, almost thoughtful. "thinking about the project, or… something else?"

you glanced at him, feeling your heartbeat quicken. "maybe both," you replied, your voice soft.

mark raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "you know, it’s funny. we’ve spent all this time together, but i still don’t think i know everything about you."

you smiled, trying to play it cool, but inside, you were nervous. "what do you want to know?"

he didn’t answer immediately. instead, he leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. "i guess… i just want to know how you see the world. the little things that make you… well, you."

you blinked, taken aback by the question. it felt oddly intimate, like he was asking to know you on a deeper level, not just as a classmate or a friend, but as something more.

"that’s… a lot to ask," you murmured, your cheeks flushing.

mark smiled, his gaze softening. "maybe," he said quietly. "but i think… i think you’re worth the effort."

the way his voice sounded made something tighten in your chest. 

you didn’t know what it was, but you felt it — that spark, that connection.

and so it continued, these quiet, intimate moments between the two of you. each one made the feelings grow stronger, but neither of you acknowledged it outright. there was no rush. this wasn’t about forcing something, it was just about being together, in whatever way it worked. a slow, steady love building like a quiet storm.

finally, the day came for you to present your project. everyone had gathered in the lecture hall, seniors and juniors alike. the professor was setting up the papers, his usual stern expression softened by the anticipation in the room. the seniors were all whispering among themselves, and you couldn’t help but notice how mark sat just a little too still in his chair, his eyes occasionally glancing over at you.

the professor cleared his throat, signaling that it was time. "alright, y/n, mark — it’s your turn. please come up and present."

you stood up, your heart beating a little faster as you walked up to the front, your palms sweaty. mark was beside you, his presence oddly comforting, though you could feel the tension between you two. you weren’t sure what to expect, but you knew that something was about to change.

mark didn’t speak right away. instead, he took your project, carefully setting it down on the desk in front of the class. you watched as he stood behind it, adjusting his posture and looking around at the gathered group. for a moment, he seemed lost in thought, then he cleared his throat.

"before i present this," he began, his voice steady but with a certain softness that made you pause, "i think i should talk about something else."

your stomach dropped. what was he doing?

the professor, who had been prepared to listen to a formal presentation, now looked intrigued. "mark?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

mark’s gaze shifted to you for a moment, then back to the class. he was taking his time, choosing his words carefully."this is a story about someone i came to know. at first, i didn’t think much of it. she was just someone i worked with, just another student. but as time went on, i began to notice little things. the way she always smiled, even when she was exhausted. the way she laughed at things that most people would have ignored. the way she always tried to be better, even when she didn’t have to."

mark paused, and you felt your heart race as your eyes locked with his. his voice had a strange warmth to it, and the room seemed to hold its breath as he continued.

"i don’t know when it happened, exactly. it wasn’t a moment — it wasn’t like i suddenly realized. but i know that one day, i found myself thinking about her when she wasn’t around. and when i looked at her, it felt like i was seeing something… something that was more than just a person. it felt like i was seeing a world, a life. and i wanted to know more, to be close to her, to understand who she was."

mark looked at you then, his gaze soft and steady. "this person… she’s not just anyone. she’s someone who changed the way i see things, who made me realize what it means to care about someone. and i think, somewhere along the way, i realized… i was falling for her."

you felt your breath catch in your throat. 

he was talking about you.

there was a stunned silence in the room. even the professor looked taken aback for a moment, his mouth slightly agape. mark continued, the words flowing from him almost effortlessly.

"this might not be the most professional presentation," he said, his voice now more playful, "but it’s the truth. and i think… that’s the most important part of any story."

the professor, still recovering from the surprise, gave a small chuckle, but quickly regained his composure. "well, mark," he said, "that was… certainly unexpected. but if after all that, you don’t present the real work," he said, raising an eyebrow, "i’ll have no choice but to fail you. and your partner."

mark smiled, but you could see the playfulness in his eyes fade. "don’t worry," he said softly, "the real work is here." he turned, pulling the actual project from under the desk and placing it in front of you. "y/n, it’s all yours."

you couldn’t help but blush, your heart still racing from his words. the class was silent, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. mark’s confession had left an unexpected warmth in the room, and for a moment, it felt like everything had shifted. everything felt different.

the rest of the room buzzed with whispers, the air thick with the lingering tension. you felt the weight of the moment heavy in your chest, but you were frozen, unable to move. mark’s words had completely caught you off guard, and now, as he stood there, his usual confident demeanor had softened — there was a vulnerability in his posture, a quiet but undeniable sincerity in the way his eyes met yours.

for a second, everything felt out of place, like time had slowed down just for you two. your heart was pounding in your ears, and yet, there was a part of you that was oddly calm. 

this was real.

this moment, this confession — it wasn’t just a dream.

you glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of your classmates. some of them looked just as stunned as you, others had the tiniest smirk tugging at the corners of their lips, and the professor, still slightly in shock, was scribbling something on his notepad, probably to process what had just transpired.

mark cleared his throat, his eyes still on you, waiting for a response. but you were too overwhelmed to speak. you just looked at him, taking in the moment, trying to find the words that seemed to be stuck in your throat.

the warmth from his words, the honesty in his voice, left a tingling sensation in the air. but as much as you wanted to hold it together, the words he said, the way he looked at you — it was too much. the feelings you had buried so deep, the longing you had hidden, began to spill out uncontrollably.

your hands shook as the tears began to well up. you couldn’t stop them. they fell freely, a mix of relief, sadness, and love all at once. the room fell silent, everyone staring at you. and you knew. they all knew. but now it was your turn to finally say it out loud, to let go of the fear of rejection.

"i’ve always loved you, mark," you whispered, your voice shaky, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "i’ve been in love with you for so long, thinking i was just some fool. but... i can’t hide it anymore."

you looked up, your vision blurry with tears, and there he was. mark, standing before you, a mixture of surprise and something softer in his eyes. he didn’t seem shocked, but there was something in his gaze that said he knew. it wasn’t a revelation to him — he had always known.

“i— i don’t know what to say, but... thank you,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “thank you for loving me all this time. for waiting. for staying. i... i had no idea. i didn’t want to admit it to myself.” he paused for a moment, stepping closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "but now... i get it. i’m starting to understand what i feel, and it’s... you. it’s always been you."

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might fall apart. but mark’s steady presence kept you grounded. he was here, and he was saying things you had longed to hear for so long.

“i’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out,” he continued, his voice quiet but filled with so much emotion. "i’ve been... holding back. afraid. but now, i can’t hide it anymore. i like you. i like you so much. i’ve been trying to pretend it was something else, but it’s you. it’s always been you."

your heart raced, your chest tight, as his words sank in. this wasn’t just a confession from you anymore. it wasn’t just about what you had been feeling. mark felt the same way.

“thank you for loving me,” he whispered, his hand reaching out slowly to take yours. his fingers brushed over your skin, sending a wave of warmth through your body. “it’s my turn now, to love you back. for real.”

you blinked, a soft gasp escaping you, and the tears came again, this time in a different way. not from sadness, but from the overwhelming emotion of knowing that after all this time, mark was finally letting himself feel the same. finally.

“you don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath, but your chest felt full, the emotions swirling inside you, making it impossible to think clearly. "i just needed you to know how i felt. i... i never thought you’d feel the same."

mark smiled softly, stepping closer until his chest was almost pressed against yours. “i do. i really do. and i’m not going anywhere. i want to be with you, if you’ll let me. no more hiding. no more pretending."

your heart soared as you looked at him, standing so close, his eyes full of honesty. you had waited so long for this, and now it was happening.

“i want that too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "i want to be with you, mark. always."

mark nodded slowly, his hand resting gently on the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. "then let's not waste any more time," he said, his voice warm and soft, a promise in the words.

the world outside seemed to disappear as you stood there, together, finally on the same page. no more hiding, no more pretending. just the two of you, taking the first step toward what you both knew could be something real.

days passed, and the universe seemed to shift around you. mark and you were no longer just two people who shared silent glances and unsaid words. now, you were together, the air around you both full of something new, something beautiful. but not everyone understood it right away.

you and mark sat together in the cafeteria, just the two of you, laughing quietly. the others were around you, but it was as if the world had faded, and it was just the two of you in that small bubble. you could feel it—the connection, stronger than ever.

haechan, sitting across the table with jisung and jaemin, eyed you both with an exaggerated glance. his expression was a mix of disbelief and amusement. he leaned toward jaemin and sighed.

"i never thought i'd see mark being all... cheesy and love-struck like that," ahechan chuckled, nudging jaemin with his elbow. "i swear, he's practically glowing."

jaemin, who had been quietly observing, just shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "yeah, well, mark's always been that way when it comes to her," he muttered, already knowing what was coming. "took him long enough, though."

meanwhile, jisung, still looking grumpy about something, crossed his arms over his chest and shot a look at chenle. "you know what this means, right? i’m gonna have to give you 100,000 won now."

chenle grinned like he had won the lottery. "told you they'd get together eventually," he said with a teasing wink, clearly proud of his bet-winning skills.

jisung grumbled, staring at his half-eaten sandwich. "i hate you. i can’t believe i lost this bet."

"it’s not like you had much of a chance, anyway," chenle teased, laughing.

jaemin just sighed, shaking his head as if he already knew what was coming. "this was inevitable," he muttered under his breath. "mark was always going to fall for her. he just took his time."

you glanced at mark, your hand casually resting in his as you both shared a quiet smile. it was the kind of smile that said everything without saying a word.

renjun’s voice broke the moment. "so, when's the wedding?" he joked, but there was warmth in his eyes. "mark's acting like he's already head over heels. never thought i'd see the day."

mark’s cheeks flushed, but he squeezed your hand gently, his eyes soft. "i’m just taking my time with her," he said, his voice full of affection.

you laughed, your heart soaring. it felt right. this was real.

and though everyone around you may have teased and joked, you knew deep down that this was only the beginning. you and mark had found something special. something that, despite the slow burn, had bloomed into something beautiful and undeniable.

“so,” ahechan continued, looking at the two of you with a teasing grin, “when do we get to hear about your first official date?”

you turned to mark, your heart racing in your chest. "maybe you should wait for that one," you said with a wink, “but... it’s gonna be worth it.”

the group burst into laughter, and mark’s hand tightened around yours, his smile the brightest thing in the room. because no matter what anyone else said, you and mark had finally found each other, and nothing else mattered.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Clover-Part 1

Jay Halstead x Reader (nicknamed Clover)

When all else fails run to Jay

Mentions of sex and crooked land deals?

“No no no no” you groaned as you paced out in front of Gaffney. You couldn’t believe this. Your freaking landlord had sold the building. Everyone was getting evicted and had seventy two hours to get out. What the hell were you supposed to do?

“Clover?” Will stopped on his way past you and raised an eyebrow “What’s wrong?” you shrugged “Oh nothing, I’m just effectively fucking homeless” “Huh?” he asked and you waved a hand “Oh you know, shady developers. Money, meaning more than human lives and it not mattering that I’m a freaking trauma nurse that barely has time to breathe let alone find a new place!” 

“How long do you have to get out?” he asked and you nearly teared up “Seventy two hours” he whistled low “Ok, well me and Nat have a storage unit you’re welcome to” you nodded “That helps with that sort of stuff but where the hell am I supposed to live?” he shrugged “Jay has a spare bedroom?” “And I’m supposed to what exactly? Say hey buddy? How’s it going? Can I move in?”

He crossed his arms “Well you can do that or see if the shelter has bed” you groaned and hit Jay’s number, glaring at Will as you did. Jay answered on the second ring. “Hey Clover, how’s my favorite nurse?”

“Wondering if there was anyway possible I could maybe buy you lunch?” you asked and he whistled low “Before I agree how bad is it?” “How bad is what?” you laughed. He scoffed “I just want to know if I’m cashing in little favors with Voight or huge favors” “No favors with Voight at all actually and thanks so much for the confidence in me” he laughed “In that case, meet you at one?” “Ok, see you then” you hung up and Will nodded “He’ll more than likely agree”

You and Jay had been friends for years. You met right after he graduated from the academy because you’d started at med around the same time. You’d patched him up more times than you cared to ever admit. He was your best friend. If there was anyone on the face of this earth that knew damn near everything about you? It was Jay Halstead. You just wished you didn’t have to ask this of him but everyone else you knew either was leasing themselves or only had one bedrooms.

____________________

You sat in the corner booth of the diner you and Jay always grabbed lunch at. When he walked in you waved at him and he smiled before walking over and sliding in across from you “Well I see no marks, I’m not killing anyone. I ran your name, you’ve gotten into no trouble the last few days and not told me so what’s up princess?” you rolled your eyes at the nickname “I need a huge favor” 

He nodded slowly “How huge?” you swallowed hard “Would you be willing to rent me your spare bedroom until I can find a new place or possibly longer if I can't find a new place? My entire building is getting evicted in seventy two hours”

“What? How did those bastards manage that?” he asked and you shrugged “Shady deals, shadier lawyers?” he shook his head, jaw tense “That’s bullshit but yeah..don’t worry about it. We’ll talk about splitting bills and all. I’ll grab Kev and Adam. We’ll help you get your stuff moved” 

“Thank you Jay. I can not thank you enough” you whispered and he grinned “Hey, we’ve been friends for years Clover, I’m not exactly gonna leave you out in the street” you laughed “I appreciate it either way”

“Is that everything?” Will asked as you stacked the last box into his storage unit. You nodded “Yeah, I mean I didn’t really have too much to begin with. Perks of not being a very materialistic person” he laughed “Guess it comes in handy”

You nodded “I’ve put in calls to a couple real estate companies. I don’t want to intrude on Jay any longer than necessary” “I don’t think he’d offer if he minded” he replied and you shrugged “I know but still. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea and giving him a hard time you know? Plus I don’t want to fuck up his dating life. Hard as hell to take a woman home if you get there and I’m making coffee at two in the morning because I can’t sleep”

He laughed “Ok, you do have a point there” you grinned “See” then hugged him “Thank Nat for me too?” “Of course”

_____________________

You walked out of the storage unit and waved to Will before walking to your car. Jay had already given you a key to his place. It was a little weird but it wasn’t like you hadn’t slept at Jay’s before out of necessity and it wasn’t like now wasn’t out of MAJOR necessity.

You climbed in and turned the engine before heading back to Jay’s. He was at work but would be off in an hour or two. He’d be home about an hour before you’d have to go in, at least with your schedules it wasn’t like you’d be on top of each other.

“How’s my brother as a roommate?” Will asked as the two of you stood in line at the coffee kiosk. You shrugged “Actually? A pretty damn good one. He starts coffee for me, takes out the trash after dark. Calls me if he stops at the store to see if I need anything picked up. We split all the bills coming in fifty/fifty. It’s going pretty good. Which is good considering it looks like there are no places to lease within my budget in Chicago”

He nodded “Good to know. Any issues on the worried about messing up his dating life?” you shrugged “Guessing he goes to their place?” he laughed “Sounds like it’s working good and you’re not homeless. I call that a win for everyone involved”

Jay was nothing short of exhausted. The case had kicked everyone’s ass. He just wanted to crash for a while. He unlocked the door and walked into the apartment. The moment he stepped in a laugh fell from his lips. You were in the kitchen, making coffee. The laughter had come from the fact that you were wearing chucky pjs and rainbow socks. 

“Coffee?” you asked with a little smile. “Sure” he replied, dropping his keys on the table next to the door then stripping his jacket off and kicking his shoes off. You pulled down a second mug and poured him a cup. He walked over and took it from you. You turned and hopped up on the counter “You ok?”

“That case finally closed” you nodded slowly “That’s good. You’ve been having bad nightmares the last week” he raised an eyebrow “You can hear me?” you shrugged “Light sleeper. I’m just glad you haven’t brought anyone home. I would need ear plugs” 

He barked out a laugh “I promise I wouldn’t do that to you” you shrugged “Your place” he nodded “Your place too” you shrugged “True but that’s just weird bringing a man into my male best friend’s home” 

He shook his head and nodded to the couch “Want to watch that episode or did you cheat?” you gasped “I did no such of a thing” and hopped off the counter “Come on” he followed you with a smile. 

This whole roommate thing he honestly hadn’t been too sure of when he agreed to it but so far it was working out pretty well. You and him got along good. You shared quarters well. He didn't feel out of place sharing somewhere to live with you. It felt almost too natural. If you did find somewhere else to go, he would more than likely miss you like crazy by now and it hadn't been but a few weeks.