#I’m just desperately in love with him okay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fireya-x · 3 days ago

Note

hey! i just wanted to say that i love your writing. you have the most amazing style and idk if youre accepting asks rn but pls ignore if not.

would you ever consider writing a fic about john price/reader where reader is like sick for a couple days or maybe gone for a while and hes been totally deprived and all when you finally are feeling better/home, then he just absolutely loses all of his gentlemanly ways and jumps you the moment he can get it again??

maybe a little inspired by this gif -- https://www.tumblr.com/posseydonn/765988062279909376/lets-not-sleep-without-making-love?source=share

Thank you! That means so much 🥰

And of course! I was so excited when I saw this. You're the first to request, and it made me so happy. I hope this is okay, and again, thanks so much for the ask!

coming home

AO3 Link (full tag list) || masterlist

John Price x Reader

Three weeks apart is three weeks too long for John.

[3,5k words]

cw: smut, piv sex, oral sex, cunnilingus, blow job, come swallowing, smoking

You entered the meeting room, a soft “Sorry I’m late” escaping your lips, breathless as your eyes met Kate’s. She smiled, and the room, thankfully, seemed less concerned with your tardiness and more captivated by your return.

“There she is!” Gaz called out, a grin splitting his face.

“Don’t worry about it.” Kate said at the same time and gestured for you to sit down.

“Lassie! Good to see ye again!” Soap exclaimed, a gentle slap on your shoulder accompanying his greeting as you sat beside him.

Ghost’s masked face gave nothing away, but you could have sworn you saw a slight nod in your direction when your eyes met. Several other soldiers offered their greetings, but your attention was drawn to the man standing next to Kate. Their voices, addressing the room, held the familiar cadence of teachers instructing a class. His features, however, softened noticeably the moment you entered, and you suspected the newer recruits could thank you for the subtle shift in John's demeanour. Tasks were assigned and mission preparations discussed, a mission you’d been desperately wanted to be back in the field for.

You'd been confined to your home for the past three weeks, battling a nasty flu. Fever, headaches, an upset stomach – the whole miserable package. You'd warned everyone to steer clear, not wanting to share the misery. John, though you suspected he wanted to argue, had obeyed. You knew he was itching to fuss over you, to bring you tea and take your temperature like he’d done countless times before. But his care manifested in other ways. Canned soup and chocolate – clearly a Price-approved selection – appeared mysteriously on your doorstep. A week's worth of groceries materialized thanks to Soap and Ghost. And Gaz's mum, bless her, managed to stock your medicine cabinet better than a pharmacy.

As the meeting for the day was concluded and everyone slowly left the room, Price stopped you in your tracks with a raised hand. “Stay behind a moment, love.”

When the room was empty, he closed the distance between you, his hands settling on your shoulders. “Why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up.”

You shuffled your feet, avoiding his gaze, suddenly shy under his intense scrutiny. “Doctor cleared me, and I came straight here,” you explained, gesturing vaguely towards the front of the room, where he had been standing moments ago. “Didn’t want to bother you. You were clearly busy.”

“Never a bother,” he murmured, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. “Next time, call me. Okay?”

You leaned into his touch, a wave of relief washing over you. The simple contact made you acutely aware of how much you’d missed him. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, a small smile playing on your lips as you met his gaze. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that sent a wave of comforting warmth through you.

“It’s good to have you back.” He exhaled heavily, tension easing from his shoulders. “The boys were driving me insane.”

You chuckled. “You love them.”

“I do. Not as much as you, though.”

You rolled your eyes at the cheesy line, but a warmth bloomed in your chest. He lifted your chin with a gentle finger. “Promise me if you’re not feeling well, you won’t play tough and tell me immediately, yeah?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good.”

“Gotta go train the new kids, I suppose,” you sighed theatrically.

“I don’t envy you.” He grimaced.

“I’ll have to put my Price voice on.” You grinned, anticipating his reaction.

He raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Price voice?”

You cleared your throat, mimicking his gruff tone. “You muppets! Twenty pushups, now!”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “I do not sound like that.”

“You wish you’d sound as sweet as I do.” You winked, and he chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist as you walked together down the corridor. He paused at his office door, leaning in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yes, Captain.” You smiled, saluting playfully, which earned you another eye roll as he disappeared inside.

The day wore on, the relentless rain and wind a constant, chilling presence on the training grounds. You watched the new recruits struggle through the obstacle course, their movements hampered by the slick mud and the biting wind. You, at least, had the small comforts of proper gear. These poor souls, battling the weather in addition to the gruelling physical demands – it brought back memories of your own training. The endless drills, Price’s watchful gaze, his voice a constant bark of commands, pushing you, testing your limits. No trace of the tenderness he showed you now. Back then, it had been all business, grit, and determination.

But it earned you a place on the 141, and you didn't regret a single moment.

As the last recruit, mud-caked and drenched, stumbled across the finish line, you offered a nod of acknowledgement. “Passable time, soldier,” you stated, pointing towards the last stretch of obstacles, “but that last part needs to be faster. Work on your agility in these conditions. Life or death out in the field.” The recruit saluted, exhaustion etched on their pale face, before joining the rest of the group.

Dismissing them with a sweep of your hand, you advised, “Get yourselves dried off and warmed up.” You could practically feel the welcome relief of hot showers and a decent meal yourself as you watched them disperse, shivering. Heading for the nearest entrance, you discarded your heavy weather gear with a sigh of relief.

A voice called out, “Sergeant?” Turning, you recognized the young recruit from the cafeteria, his waterproof jacket plastered to his thin frame as he hurried towards you. He pointed a finger down the hall. “Captain Price wants to talk to you.”

Your heart quickened, a nervous flutter in your stomach. Smoothing down your damp uniform and clutching the training reports, you made your way toward Price’s office, that nervous flutter intensifying with each step. You knocked lightly, the sound muffled by the heavy door.

“You wanted to talk to me?” you began, pushing it open. “Oh, I already have the reports here –”

“Lock the door.” Price’s command cut you short, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. A freshly lit cigar was clenched between his teeth, a plume of smoke curling upwards.

Your breath hitched, momentarily stunned by his command. The facade of your professionalism crumbled under the weight of his gaze. “What?”

His eyes bored into you. He jerked his chin towards the door, the unspoken command crystal clear. “Do it, and get over here.” A blush warmed your cheeks as you obeyed, the click of the lock echoing in the sudden silence.

You crossed the room, dropping the reports on his desk as you rounded it, coming to a stop before him. His hand shot out, gripping your wrist, pulling you towards him with a force that made you gasp. The movement was almost violent, and he didn’t even waste a breath before your training briefs were bunching around your ankles as he shoved them down. His touch was rough, brutal and yet undeniably possessive.

The heat of him against your sudden bare skin was like an electric shock, making the hairs on your skin stand up, igniting a fire that had been smouldering for past weeks. His mouth was suddenly between your thighs, biting your sensitive flesh through the fabric of your panties, eliciting a moan from your lips.

“Christ, John, what –” you breathed, the words lost against another nip of his teeth. He forced his tongue against the damp fabric and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your backside as he growled against your skin. “Fuck, I've missed you.”

“We’re at work,” you protested weakly, even as your hands found their way into his hair, desperate for something to hold on to.

He pulled back slightly and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Has that ever stopped us before?”

You shook your head, a breathless laugh escaping you. “I guess not.”

With a quick, almost savage tear, your panties were gone. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver. He murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky, “I’m not going to fire you for fucking your boss, sweetheart.” A trail of scorching kisses followed his words, his lips branding your inner thighs.

“Very funny,” you chuckled, hands finding their way back into his hair, and without a warning, his tongue parted your folds. The contact with your clit was an unexpected intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. He pushed you back against the desk, your legs parting instinctively as his fingers joined the fray. He lapped at your slickness, his tongue swirling and circling, his beard scratching the skin, while his fingers teased the entrance of your hole.

He devoured you, his hunger insatiable, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to bring you to the brink. You could feel the pressure building, coiling tight in your belly, the pleasure intensifying with each lick, each touch, each stolen breath. “John,” you gasped, and he groaned in response, the sound thick with desire, but then, his own need overriding yours, he pulled back abruptly. The sight, the taste, the feel of you was too much. He needed to be inside you. With a low growl, he lifted you onto the cool surface of the desk, scattering the forgotten reports beneath you like fallen leaves.

“Shouldn’t you be looking at those reports?” you managed, a weak attempt at humour.

He shook his head, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips. “The only thing I should be doing is you.”

As he moved above you, your gaze traced the familiar lines of his body. The faint, silvery scars that crisscrossed his skin, a roadmap of his life, each one an etched memory of battles fought and won. The dark hair dusting his chest and narrowing down to the meticulously trimmed line of his pubic hair – a detail that sent a wave of heat through you, the knowledge that he’d been ready for you, waiting for this moment, just as you had been.

His cock, thick and veined, throbbed before you. The tip, a darker shade of pink, almost crimson with arousal, glistened in the dim light of the office, the precum already beading there like glistening dew. The velvety texture, the subtle ridges and curves of its form – it was a thing of beauty, of raw power. And it belonged to him, to the man who made you feel things no one else could. Safe. Cherished. Desired.

It had been weeks – an eternity – since you’d felt this way. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark and intense, focused solely on you, made you feel seen, loved, like you were the only person in the world.

The initial slow burn of his entry ignited a fire within you, a slow, steady warmth that spread through your body. As he settled fully inside you, a sigh escaped your lips. It was a feeling of homecoming, of finally returning from a long and arduous journey, of finding your way back to the place where you belonged. It was more than just pleasure; it was a sense of rightness, of two halves becoming whole. You revelled in the feeling of fullness, of completion, of finally having him back where he belonged.

You could feel every inch of him, the subtle ridges and curves of his length pressing against your inner walls, the velvety head brushing against your most sensitive point, sending shivers of anticipation radiating outwards. He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss, and the taste of him, of cigar smoke and desire and longing, filled your senses.

As the kiss deepened, his rhythm intensified, the slow burn giving way to a wildfire. The languid thrusts became more insistent, more demanding. The rhythmic slap of skin against skin echoed in the quiet office, punctuated by the creak of the desk beneath you. His mouth moved to nip and suck at your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your already sensitized nerves. His touch was a brand that marked you as his, a delicious reminder of his possession. His fingers found your clit, rubbing, circling, adding yet another layer of exquisite torture to the inferno already burning within you.

The pressure built, the pleasure intensifying with each thrust, each touch, each stolen breath. And then, it hit you – an explosion of pure, unadulterated bliss, a blinding white light that obliterated all thought. You threw your arms around his back, your nails digging into his skin. Your body convulsed, pressing against him, clamping down on his cock as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last. He held you steady, his strong arms a comforting anchor and his voice a low murmur against your ear. “That's my girl,” he whispered, the words a balm to your soul as the tremors subsided, leaving you spent and sated in his embrace.

Still pleasure-drunk, your mind hazy with the afterglow of your climax, you pushed him off you and breaking the connection. He stumbled back, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, but he didn’t intervene, his gaze following your every move as you slid off the desk. He let himself be pushed back into his chair, his chest heaving, his cock still slick and hard.

Reaching for the earlier discarded cigar in the ashtray, you brought it to your lips, inhaling deeply, the familiar taste making your head spin. As you exhaled, your gaze locked with his, a predatory glint in your eyes. With slow, deliberate movements, you began to play with the cigar, rolling it between your fingers, letting it linger at the corner of your mouth, dragging it across your lips as if savouring the taste, the tip tracing the same path his tongue had taken only moments before. The act, a shameless innuendo, was a way of reclaiming your power, of teasing him, of showing him that you weren't done with him yet. You ran your tongue along the length of it, the tip glistening in the dim light of the office.

He watched, transfixed, his breath hitching in his throat, every muscle in his body coiled tight with a tension that bordered on painful. You were putting on a show, a performance designed solely for him, and it was driving him absolutely insane. The way you practically fucked the cigar, deep throating it with a practised ease that made his blood run hot, was both absurd and incredibly erotic.

His gaze was riveted on your lips, the way they stretched and pulsed around the cigar, the tip disappearing into the depths of your mouth, then reappearing, slick and glistening. Your tongue, darting out to lick the tip, to swirl around the base, made him growl involuntarily.

Your cheeks hollowed with each deep drag, the sight making his own breath come in short, ragged gasps. It was blatant, mimicking a far more intimate act, a performance designed to tease and torment, and it was working perfectly. He could practically feel your mouth on him, the heat, the pressure, the rhythmic pull – it had been weeks of forced abstinence, and he knew that no one else could make him feel this way; this desperate, this utterly and completely out of control.

His cock, still red and swollen, throbbed and twitched in agonizing response and the pre-come slowly leaked onto his skin. His balls ached with a desperate need for release, a pressure that built with each drag you took on the cigar, each moan that escaped your lips, each flick of your tongue. The need to touch himself, to find some small measure of relief, was almost overwhelming.

Not being able to bear it any longer, his hand instinctively moved towards his aching hardness, but you stopped him, your fingers gently but firmly closing around his wrist.

“Not yet, Captain,” you purred, your voice husky with amusement. You held his gaze, your eyes sparkling with mischief, and brought the cigar back to your lips, taking one last, long drag. Letting he smoke fill your lungs before you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. You exhaled slowly, deliberately, the plume of smoke swirling into his mouth, teasing his tongue with the lingering taste of the tobacco, the heat of your breath, and the promise of more.

He groaned, a low rumble in his chest, and his tongue darted out, attacking your mouth, desperate to taste you, to reclaim the connection that had been broken only moments before. The kiss was fierce, hungry, his tongue probing deep, seeking out yours, tangling with it in a desperate dance of need. He wanted you, all of you, right there, right then, but you pulled back, a teasing smile playing on your lips. With a slow, deliberate movement, you placed the cigar between his lips.

Then, trailing a line of kisses down his chest, across the hard planes of his stomach, each touch sending shivers through his already aroused body, you reached your destination. He groaned, his hands finding their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as you knelt before him, his hardness pressing against your cheek.

You took him in your mouth, the taste of him – salty and musky – mingling with the lingering flavour of the cigar and the faint, sweet taste of yourself. You swirled your tongue around him, appreciating the feel of him against your lips, the heat of him radiating against your skin. You sucked hard, the pull creating a friction that made him groan, his hips bucking involuntarily against your mouth. You bobbed your head, setting a slow, steady rhythm, your eyes never leaving his, watching as his expression shifted from desire to pure pleasure. You increased the pressure, the pace, drawing him deeper into your mouth, feeling the throb of his pulse against your tongue and the way his cock pulsed and twitched with each pull of your lips.

You ran your tongue along the underside of his length, before playing a soft kiss to the tip, teasing him, driving him closer to the edge. He groaned again, the sound barely audible, a strangled whimper of pleasure lost somewhere between a sob and a curse.

You continued, relentless, taking him fully into your mouth again with a passion fuelled by the weeks of pent-up longing. You felt him tense, the muscles in his thighs clenching as he reached his peak. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and a shudder ran through his entire body. His grip on your hair tightened, his knuckles white against your scalp. “Fuck… yes,” he groaned, the words barely audible. “So good... love... bloody hell…”

His voice trailed off into a series of incoherent moans and gasps as he spilled into your mouth, the hot rush of his release coating your throat. You moaned when the taste hit you, salty and musky, and so intoxicatingly him. You could feel the heat, the force of it, as he emptied himself into you – the rhythmic contractions of his cock, the feeling of him throbbing within your mouth, how the ridge of his length pulsated against your tongue with each spurt – it sent shivers down your spine. You continued to suckle gently, even after the initial rush subsided, your tongue swirling around him, cleaning him, wanting to draw every last drop of him, to cherish the intimacy of the moment, to prolong the connection for as long as possible. With a final, loving kiss against the tip, you pulled back, leaving him breathless.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still dark with desire, but now softened with a tenderness reserved only for you. He reached down, his hand gently cupping your chin, tilting your face up to his. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch feather-light. “I missed you,” he murmured. “I was worried sick. So glad you’re alright.”

You smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. “Couldn't even wait until we got home?” You teased, still settled between his thighs, reaching up to run a finger along his jawline, feeling the familiar prickle of his beard. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “No chance, love. Not a bloody chance.” You leaned forward, resting your head against the hard muscles of his thigh, your fingertips dancing lightly along his skin. “Want to grab some dinner and stay with me tonight?” you asked, almost hesitant.

He met your gaze, a warmth spreading through his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. He reached forward then, lifting you up into his lap effortlessly. "Like you even have to ask," he murmured, his hands gently caressing your back, drawing soft circles.

“Let's go then?” he asked softly after a while.

You sighed, closing your eyes, letting the peace of the moment wash over you. “Just a minute.” He didn't reply, but his arms tightened around you, holding you close, and in that silent embrace, you found everything you had been missing in the last weeks: the comfort of his presence, the security of his touch, the certainty of his love. You were home.

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stevenose · 3 days ago

Text

for anonymous - thank you for voting!! and for the good prompt hehe

contains: gender unspecified reader; reader with a vagina; teasing; edging (reader receiving); kind of mean!steve; slight overstimulation; this one kinda got away from me and was not supposed to be this long 😳

“Steve - Steve —!”

“Aw,” he says flatly. “Do you want to cum or something?”

“Yes,” you grit.

He hums, applying harder, steadier pressure on your clit before going back to feather-light strokes. “Not coming with that attitude.”

He’s brought you close twice now, leaving you right on the cusp before pulling back. With the little resolve you have left, you reach down for his arm, trying to stop him from moving away.

“Hey,” he warns, grabbing your hand and pinning it above you. “Hands up here, remember?”

You huff.

“There you go,” he encourages. “Just gotta be nice to me and I’ll give you what you want, okay?”

His thumb presses down on your clit and he stops his movement all together. You jolt, twisting your legs beside his, slotted between yours. Your hands grasp the sheets under you and you curl the soft fabric up in your fists.

“You’re never nice to me,” you pant.

He pinches your clit. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

You do know it. He can be so tender with you. But he’s not right now, and you want to cum so badly, want him to move his fingers again until you’re shaking.

“What do you want me to do?”

He grins down at you. “You’re so easy. Want you to beg me. That’s not below you, is it? You’ve begged me for things before.”

You swallow your pride and ignore his comment. “Please let me cum, Steve.”

“Oh, not like that,” he says, his thumb moving, keeping the pressure hard. “Want it to be organic, you know? Instead of talking back while I’m making you feel good.”

His thumb really does feel so good. You moan breathlessly, hands still curled, your toes clenching. You want to grind, but you know that’ll get you farther away from what you need.

Steve kisses down your neck and collarbone. “Uh-huh, there y’go.”

His lips find a nipple, tongue laving over it. You moan louder, squirming. You breathe harshly, your orgasm quickly coming to the precipice. “Please,” you whimper.

White teeth scrape against your sensitive skin, catching on your nipple. “I’m gonna need a lot more than that.”

“Steve, please.” You’re coming undone. “It’s - it feels so good, I need more, I need to feel it.”

A finger slips down to your entrance while his thumb keeps rubbing at your clit. His lips resume their work, his finger never entering.

“Yes, please!” you pant. “Please, please, finger me.”

“You’re wet,” he says against your skin. “You love this.”

“I love this,” you agree mindlessly. “Steve, I wanna cum, want you to feel me.”

He moans now, slipping his middle finger inside of you. You clench around him and he whines.

Your hands tug the sheets, desperate. Your chest rises and falls, breath heavy. “Please, I’m so close, please don’t stop, Steve, please don’t stop!”

“Who’s making you cum?”

“You, you, you —“

“What’s my name, honey?”

“Steve,” you squeak, stomach tightening.

He pauses. Your eyes sting with tears, thinking he’s not letting you, but his pace continues with hard strokes and you’re cumming. Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails biting into his skin, legs wrapping around his hips. You cry in ecstasy, shaking, pussy refusing to let him go until you’re overstimulated.

“Ah!” you whine. “Too — too much.”

Steve hums, eyes locked on yours, his thumb moving lightly against your twitching clit. “It’d be fun to keep playing with you, don’t you think?”

#category: blurbs #hehe…

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bontentrio · 15 hours ago

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ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

san x gn reader + mingi x gn reader (separated)

part 2 to ateez stuck in the friendzone! read that part so this makes sense

tw: slow burn + veeery dramatic + angst + fluff

a/n: both have the slowestttt slow burns in history of friends to lovers omg my heart did kinda break a little while writing them lol so keep in mind that both are VERY dramatic. maybe even cliche but honestly i just wrote what i, personally, enjoy reading. i’m just a girl in love with love 🥹

masterlist

SAN

san found himself attempting to hide his smile while you told him about your awful date from a few days ago. you were laying down with your head on his lap as san casually untangled strands of your hair, while you rambled on and on about the misfortunes he secretly thought were fortunes in disguise.

“who talks about their mother on the first date? like the whole time i mean, of course it’s okay to mention one or two things following the context of the conversation” you said, moving your hands dramatically to prove your point “but the whole time? i tried to switch the topic of the conversation towards work and can you believe he told me about what his mother does for a living before telling me what HE does for HIS?”

san couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. you were so cute and he was so happy and relieved that the date had failed.

“he should go to therapy” he said, in between giggles. “right?! sigmund freud would have been thrilled to have him as a patient” you exclaimed, laughing too.

after a few moments of cracking jokes and laughing about the situation, you turned your head to face san. “so what about you?” you asked. he looked down at you, smile on his face still. “what about me?”

“have you gone on dates lately?” you asked. he threw his head back, shaking it slightly “with what time? i’m too busy with schedules” he answered, half lying. it’s true that he’s very busy with his idol duties, but he always managed to make time for you. he knows he could easily use up that time to go on dates, but for obvious reasons that you still were ignorant to, he didn’t. to you, he was just an introvert.

“but are you not interested in anyone?” you pushed, lifting your head and sitting up to face him properly. san chose to avoid your eyes, not trusting himself to keep his own secret. instead, he looked to the city on his right, suddenly finding the building architectures more interesting. he noticed that the air in the terrace got warmer too, and the concrete platform you were sitting on got harder. or was he the one that got warmer and stiffer? “no, i don’t think so” he lied, but you knew him enough to see through it. “liar, you’re blushing”

“well it is an intimate question” he answered, attempting to smile in order to play it off. you shook your head no “you blushed and your left eye twitched a bit. that was definitely a lie and as your best friend i want to know!” you exclaimed, grabbing his hands. if only you knew the effect you had on him.

when he came back from tour, he was determined to confess. but now that the perfect opportunity arose, he couldn’t open his mouth. questions and different negative scenarios plagued his mind, convincing him that maybe it was a bad idea. he much rather work on moving on than lose you as a friend.

“are they that special to you?” you asked, in a much quieter tone of voice, noticing his silence. he nodded, staring at your eyes, hoping you could notice the love they held whenever he looked at you. but despite his desperation, you didn’t. “they are very lucky then, you genuinely are amazing in every aspect sannie”. you continued, going back to your original place with your head on his lap, but still holding his hands. he kept staring at you, if only you knew.

“thank you” san managed to say.

———

“how fast can you come over to help me with something?” you asked san on the phone, as he exited the practice room. it was like the stars aligned, because he had just finished for the day. “i can come over right now, are you okay?” he asked, worried something may be wrong despite you sounding relatively okay. “i can’t pick an outfit and- shit my aunt his calling me, invite yourself in when you arrive, i’m in my room and you already know the lock number of the door” you said, before hanging up.

outfit for what?

———

so that’s how san found himself sitting on your bed on a friday night, numerous pieces of clothing scattered all over without care. he scrolled through some unread messages while he waited for you to try on a different outfit for your new date. yes, new date. as if his heart haven’t just healed from last time.

“i matched with someone on this app and they immediately invited me on a date so now i’m having a fashion crisis” you had explained to him as soon as he entered your room. why was it so hard for you to realize that your dates have been failing for a reason?

you appeared once again, now wearing an outfit that honestly took san’s breath away as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. it was nothing too extravagant, actually, it was rather simple, but it was enough to make san’s head spiral. specially when you twirled around to show the outfit from the back, since your shirt had an open back.

“so? what do we think?” you asked, eyes filled with hope.

san was conflicted: he was 100% sure he has never seen anyone look more beautiful, more dashing, more perfect. but, it wasn’t for him. he didn’t want anyone else to look at you like that, they would never come remotely close to the way he feels about you.

“san-?” you started to ask after a few seconds of silence, but got interrupted by him: “don’t go on that date”

you looked at him confused, as he stared back with the same surprised face. that really had slipped from his lips before he realized what he was saying. you fucked up big time san, he thought to himself.

“why? do i really look that bad?” you asked, turning around to face the mirror in order to examine your body and face. he noticed the way your eyes dimmed, as you carefully traced your eyes over your figure, finding little imperfections that made your face turn into a sad frown. san felt his own heart shatter at the sight, and before he knew, he stood up and quickly hugged you from behind, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“sannie?” you asked, startled by his sudden action and making you momentarily forget about the insecurities that started flooding your mind. you looked at him through the mirror: even if he was leaning down on you, he was still much wider, making you feel very small in his arms. unconsciously, you lifted your hand and patted his hair. san lifted his head, looking at you through the mirror as well, and your eyes interlocked.

“you’re perfect y/n” he whispered. “i’m sorry if i gave you the wrong idea, you look beautiful and your date is very lucky”. he was trying to be supportive, but traces of sadness and desperation were evident in his face. enough for you to notice. you turned around, and the same hand that was patting his head went down to his cheek, holding him in place to look at you.

“what’s wrong san?” you asked, softly. your thumb traced comforting circles on his cheek, and you could feel his arms tighten around you as he closed his eyes.

“go on that date” he whispered in a shaky voice, before adding “you look beautiful”.

you stared at him confused for a few moments, not really knowing what to say. then, he kissed your forehead and, with the little bit of strenght he had left in him, unwrapped his arms, stepping back. he grabbed his jacket and went to the door, but not before shooting you another sad look and saying “like i said, your date is very lucky”.

he left, heart in his hands, slowly breaking with each step.

you cancelled the date.

———

san couldn’t sleep that night, he kept tossing and turning as his mind wandered about what you were doing with your date. were you still having dinner? no, probably not since it’s like 2 am. maybe it went so well that you invited them over for coffee at your place, something that will probably lead to something else. something he didn’t even want to imagine, since it wasn’t him committing those sins.

maybe it was time to move on, after all. he wants you to be happy, truly, so if your happiness doesn’t include him, then he should at least be supportive. and in order to do that from the bottom of his heart, he should move-

*knock knock knock* he heard, coming from the door. he decided to ignore it, thinking that it was probably mingi, so he turned around and closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep.

“maybe he’s asleep, i should come back tomorrow but thank you soenghwa” he heard you say from behind the door. he never got out of bed faster, as he sprinted to the door and opened it widely.

there you stood, now dressed in a familiar oversized shirt and baggy pants. completely different from the outfit he last saw you on, but to him you still looked beautiful. you looked at him with wide eyes, as seonghwa smirked next to you.

“i’ll leave you alone” he said, before he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

you stood there awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. you came here with a question, but now that you had san right in front of you, thoughts were scattered all over your mind and you couldn’t say a word.

“come in” he said, sensing your internal dilemma. you nodded in response, as you entered and made your way to his unmade bed.

“did i wake you up?” you asked. san shut the door and shook his head “actually i couldn’t sleep”

“me neither” you said in a low voice.

“how was your date?” he asked, unsure of what to say. he sat next to you on the bed, looking at you while trying to decipher your expression. you turned your head to san’s bedside table, finding the small plushie you once gifted him randomly. you smiled. “i cancelled it”

“what? why?!” he asked, with surprised wide eyes. you turned back to him. “i suddenly didn’t want to go, that’s it really. so while i was tidying up my room i found this shirt” you said, fiddling with the ends of the shirt that looked a little too big on you “the one you once lent me after we got stuck in the rain that one time. i told you i would wash it and give it back, but i didn’t. why didn’t i give it back to you?”

san stared at you in silence.

“so i realized it still had your perfume, and before i knew it, i had put it on. then i started thinking about you, about us. you’re my best friend, you know? but as i was laying down on my bed, i was thinking: what if you were not? what if my dates always failed for a reason?” you continued, as your fingers reached for his. “what if the reason they always failed was because i always searched you in them? so again, before i realized i was standing in front of your apartment, but with one question in my mind”

san could feel his heart beat increase and his breath shorten.

“what will happen to us and our friendship if i told you how i feel? how i think i always felt even if i didn’t know it?” you asked, looking at him scared.

“you’re dumb” he said, loud enough for only you to hear. that didn’t surprise you, what did was the way he immediately let go of your hand in order to hug you close, bringing you closer to his body. “what will happen? how would i feel? y/n you’re dumb because that’s how i’ve been feeling for a long time now” he said, hands leaving your waist and craddling your face. san stared at you, and now you realized that his eyes looked different: they held love in them. something you always searched on random people in dating apps, yet were never able to find. instead, it has been right in front of you this whole time.

“i love you” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. finally, he thought. he finally said the words he has been keeping locked deeply inside him for years. you smiled, as your nose touched his. “i love you too, i’m sorry i just realized”

maybe it was time to give you the silver necklace he bought you on tour, since now the timing was right.

MINGI

mingi missed you, a lot. he hadn’t heard from you since you stormed out of his house a week and a half ago. he had left you a couple of texts apologizing, and even attempted calling you, but to no avail. you had disappeared, and he didn’t blame you, he was stupid enough to let you go. in fact, that’s the thing he regretted the most about the fight: not chasing after you.

so he did what he knew best: he took his misery and transformed it into work, to be precise, he wrote three songs, all about his feelings, the situation in itself and you.

three different scenarios that made him hear yunho’s voice calling him dramatic in his mind. to be honest, he knew he was being a little dramatic about the situation. he knew that you probably just needed time to cool down, and that if his apology was good enough you would forgive him in a heart beat, because, in the end, he knew you loved him. maybe not in the way he wished for, but you loved him nonetheless.

mingi stared at the ceiling in silence, wondering what were you doing while he layed on his bed feeling miserable. did you miss him too? were you also thinking about him? he was certain of one thing only: he wanted to see you. it didn’t matter to him if you opened the door or not, he needed to at least hear your voice through the door.

he checked the time: 11:47 pm, almost midnight. fuck it, he thought. he stood up and quickly got dressed in a speed record time, tied up his shoes and grabbed his keys and song notebook in the process. by 11:55 pm he was already closing the door of his car.

as mingi started driving, questions also started flooding his mind: will you hate him if he suddenly showed up? what if you had invited someone over? shouldn’t he have discussed this with one of his friends first just in case?

questions, questions, questions.

no answers.

soon enough, he found himself standing in front of your apartment door. he could easily ring the door bell, knock on the door or simply use the spare key you gave him once for emergencies. yet, he was unable to do any, frozen in place as he mentally debated on what to do.

mingi decided to do something odd, something he would have probably laughed at if he saw it in one of the movies you usually forced him to watch with you: he took out his pen and notebook, ripped off one of the pages and wrote on it. then, he slid it under the door and left.

“i’ll tell you everything -m”

———

you have always been a hopeless romantic, mingi knew that perfectly well. you believed in happy endings, and that love and friendship can win over everything. so why hasn’t he heard from you still? did you not get the note? should he leave another one? no, that would be too pushy, it was only two days ago.

questions, questions, questions.

still no answers.

mingi was sulking again, and honestly it started to worry seonghwa and san, who watched as he walked back to his room right after dinner, without saying a word during the whole night. honestly, he was just too lost in his thoughts. their pair exchanged a look, before following him.

“mingi, hold up, everything okay? you’re more… distracted than usual” seonghwa said, carefully choosing his words. mingi hummed in response, nodding as he stopped in his tracks. “yeah, there’s just a lot in my head” he answered, not looking at his friends. “let us hear it then” san said, patting his back and leading them towards the living room.

the trio sat down on the sofa they had bought a few months ago, the one you had scolded them about because it seemed very expensive and too hard to clean. they had all laughed, but soon enough realized you were right when mingi spilled a bit of sauce on it. the stain was still there.

“so? what’s wrong?” seonghwa asked once they all got comfortable. mingi sighed, looking down before he started spilling everything that had happened, from two weeks ago until now. he noticed the eldest nodding along the story, but neither of them said anything until he finished.

“when exactly did you leave this note?” san asked, fidgeting with his bracelet. “two days ago” mingi answered. san’s eyes went wide, as he muttered a small fuck before he sprinted towards the kitchen. seonghwa and mingi exchanged a look, both equally confused at their friend’s actions. after a few moments and very weird sounds that came from the kitchen, san appeared again, with a crumbled up yellow post it in his hand. he handed it to mingi.

“the hell is this? it has food stains san, gross” mingi said with a disgusted face as he barely touched the paper. “open it, i found it this morning” san said, sitting down next to him again. mingi gave his friends a strange look, before carefully opening the crumbled up piece of paper. as he read, his eyes widened in surprise.

“what time is it?!” he exclaimed. “9 pm” seonghwa answered, checking the time in his phone. mingi muttered a small fuck, before putting his shoes on, and grabbing his bag.

“i’ll be back in a while” he said, before shutting the door behind him.

seonghwa looked at san, confused. “what the hell did the paper say?” he asked. san picked it up from the floor and showed it to him:

“8 pm, our special place”.

the hand writing was yours.

———

mingi was almost sure he broke one or two speeding laws on his way to the park where he hoped you were still waiting at. he cursed san for not telling him sooner, even if he knew it wasn’t really his fault to begin with. the park wasn’t far from his apartment though, just a short 10 minute drive. as cliche as it sounds, it was the park were you both met.

at that time, around 6 years ago or so, his mind revolved around perfection, hard work, pressure, debut. so he would succumb to overwhelming feelings pretty often, that forced him to need some time alone. that’s how he found a park nearby, and specifically, one peculiar tree that caught his attention for some reason. he used to sit down under it, notebook on his lap and pen between his fingers, as he scribbled down some random thoughts that plagued his mind during hard moments. he didn’t really plan to turn his words into songs yet, it was just his way to deal with stress. he used to find these little moments very special: it was like he was reconnecting with his inner, truer self, and not the mean facade he wore in front of his soon to be members. yeah, some of them irked him, like that wooyoung guy, but he didn’t mean to be that rude all the time. so, to escape the constant pressure kq fellaz was facing in between the company walls, he found solace in a park, but specifically, he found solace under that tree.

he could remember the day he met you like it was yesterday. he remembers all the stress he was feeling, debut date coming closer and closer. everyone was on edge, from the members to the staff. he had also recently come back from morocco after successfully shooting his first music video! but he couldn’t deny it: as much as he was excited, he was already feeling a little tired. he needed some alone time, just himself with his thoughts. so he found himself walking towards his favorite spot in the park.

only to find you there, sitting down under the tree. his tree to be precise. and you were writing on a pink notebook with a fluffy pen. mingi felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself, but instead of being comforted by it, he felt annoyed. it was HIS tree after all!

“excuse me, this is my spot” he said, coming into your field of vision. you looked up to him, pausing your hand and taking an earphone off. “excuse me?”

“this is my spot” he reiterated, making you chuckle slightly. “the tree you mean? does it have your name or something?” you asked, finding the situation hilarious. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, why did nothing go his way?! “listen, i had a shitty day and i need to sit there for a while, so can you leave?”

“no, i got here first. plus there are tons of other trees here, it’s a park after all” you said, putting your earphone back on and turning your gaze to your notebook. he stayed still in his place in front of you, making you huff in annoyance at his persistence. “look dude, i am not going to move. you can either sit on the opposite side or leave, i don’t care but stop bothering me” you continued.

mingi really really reaaaally needed to be at his safe place, too overwhelmed to funcion rationally, so he rolled his eyes and sat on the opposite side of the tree.

that’s how the story started: at opposite sides of the tree. soon enough it got replaced by sitting nearby, and eventually next to each other. some times you would even bring snacks to share in silence, as you both wrote down your thoughts on your respective notebooks. once he debuted, he broke the silence for the first time, urging you to listen to his song. after that, you started talking more, about music, shows, your respective jobs and life in itself. the safe place you both found under the tree, was also found in each other, quickly realizing you often shared the same thoughts and views about the world.

the story started under a tree, and he hoped it wouldn’t end there too. he needed you to be there, because he wasn’t ready to lose not only his best friend, but also his safe place. even the tree would become stained from the pain. and he would have nothing left, just questions, questions, and more questions about different what ifs.

you weren’t there.

but mingi wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. he started running towards the direction of your apartment, forgetting that he had parked the car on the opposite direction. his legs were aching, and he felt like he was a bit out of breath, despite all the idol training he has been enduring for six years. but he kept running.

until he spot you in the distance.

“y/n!” he yelled. he saw you stop in your tracks and turn around to his direction, confused at the sudden call of your name. once you spotted him running towards you, you sprinted to him.

his body collapsed against yours, as he hugged you tightly, like you would disappear if he let you go. mingi hid his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around his back. you could hear his quick heart beat from how close he held you, and you were sure he could hear yours too.

after a while, mingi lifted his head from your neck, and looked at you. “why are you crying?” he asked, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “i thought you wouldn’t come, why are you crying mingi?” you asked, repeating his own actions, but on his cheeks. he giggled, he didn’t even realize he was crying. “i thought i lost you” he said, truthfully.

the park was dark, the only lights came from street lights. so, for outsiders, you probably looked like a random couple having a dramatic moment. definitely not mingi from idol group ateez and his best friend y/n reconciliating.

“i’m sorry” he whispered, locking his eyes with yours. they still held tears, that threatened to spill depending on your answer. you shook your head “no, i’m sorry mings, i shouldn’t have walked away like that. plus i didn't even give you a chance to explain”.

“i’m sorry for not showing you the songs, for not chasing you, and for being too much of a coward to not face you directly” he apologized. you hugged him again, shushing him. “i shouldn’t have pressured you to show me, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do”

mingi looked at you again, and bit his lip. “can i still show you though?”

“it’s not necessary, mingi, it’s fine real-“ you started saying before he interrupted you, taking your hand and leading you towards the same old place from before. “i want to” he said, determined.

you let him whisk you away.

———

back at the peculiar tree that was iluminated enough by a street lamp a few meters away, he sat you down at your usual spot. he sat down beside you, as he pulled out his notebook from his bag. mingi gave it to you.

“mingi, this really isn’t necessary-“ you started saying once again. “please” he interrupted, with pleading eyes. so you took his notebook and opened it on the first page. you already read that song, it was the first one he ever wrote a long while back. “read the last ones”

you turned the pages, until you found them. mingi looked at you nervously, starting to feel fidgety at the thought of you realizing his deepest secret, the only one he hid from you. he just hoped you wouldn’t hate him. he scanned your face, puffy eyes filling with tears once again as realization hit you. you turned your gaze back to him with wide, surprised eyes.

“mingi- what? wait, hold on” you stammered, as tears fell from your eyes. you quickly set his notebook aside to grab your own bag, taking out your new pink notebook, your diary. you handed it to him, saying: “open it on august 5th”

he stared at you confused, and slightly unsure too, since you’ve always been pretty secretive about what you wrote there. he found the page and read:

“august 5th.

so i realized something, that i’m almost too afraid to write even here. i’m scared that if i admit it, i’ll have to face a sad reality. i think i’m in love with my best friend, isn’t that stupid? that’s how i feel, at least. i haven’t seen him in a while because of his work, and i feel like i’m slowly losing my mind. why do i only feel complete when he’s with me? scratch that, why am i even writing this?

anyways, i’ll probably die with the secret”

“now turn to september 16th” you said, avoiding his eyes.

“september 16th.

i’m in love with my best friend. i love mingi. how insane is that? and how stupid? he is my best friend, for god’s sake. but i can’t help the way i feel, specially when he’s so annoyingly observant. like for example, the other day he noticed my pen was dying, so today he surprised me with a new fluffy pink pen. i hate him for making my heart swell at such gestures. specially because i know I KNOW that’s what best friends do.

anyways i’m not gonna use his pen because i decided i’m going to preserve it forever”

“and now, tun to november 10th” you muttered. mingi realized it was yesterday’s date.

“november 10th.

i still love him. and i fucked up. but i’m still in love with him”

he closed your notebook, turning towards you. he found you with your face on your knees, as you hugged your legs, too embarrassed to face him, despite now knowing his feelings. he loves you too, with the same devotion, with the same desperation and intensity. mingi loves you, his best friend.

“look at me, y/n” he whispered. you slowly lifted your head, hesitantly looking at him. the way you both looked at each other held more intimacy than ever. mingi slowly reached for you, bringing your face closer to his. his hold was shaky, almost unsure, this was a whole new territory. he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“i love you” he admitted.

too many questions, that finally got an answer.

“i love you too” you whispered.

taglist: @yoongles2025 @reallychaoticwoo

(to be added please let me know)

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namfinessed · 3 days ago

Text

and...cut! - p.jm.

genre: fluff, very mild angst (13.6k)

summary: the last time you saw jimin, you were pathetically deep in a one-sided love while he wasn't even at the shallow edge, that was when you were on the stage, dancing and acting together for hundreds to see. now, you are grown, you like to think you're cool but when jimin comes back to your life, you are just as pathetically deep, once again, in a one-sided love.

masterlist masterpost

you were breathless when the lights cut out, the crowd immediately broke into loud applause and your teammates gathered around you to congratulate you but as good as all of it felt, your eyes searched for him, desperately, more desperately than you would ever admit to anyone else.

and when you finally caught him, he was leaving the stage, he didn’t turn back like you hoped he would, he didn’t congratulate you like you hoped he would and you swallowed your tears.

but it was okay.

it was going to be okay.

you would see him in class in a few days and everything would fall into place.

for now, you grab the friends around you and squeeze them, hoping everyone mistakes your tears for happy ones.

you like to think that you’re cool.

you didn’t cry when you broke up with your first boyfriend, you didn’t crawl back to him and never begged anyone for a second chance. you set a ten-minute timer to cry for your second boyfriend and when he called you right after breaking up with you to ask how you were feeling, you told him you were reading a book and cut the call.

so, yes, you are cool.

maybe a little too cool because now, you’ve been single for two years and your friends take more offense to that fact than you do.

“we are just worried babe, you don’t seem to like anyone,” mia whispered with her hands in her boyfriend’s hands, as if it was some big secret.

“you don’t have to be,” you gulp down your drink, ignoring all the looks your friends and their boyfriends give you.

they didn’t have to be, you were perfectly fine the way you were.

you were totally okay with sitting at the end of the table with an empty seat next to you, you were okay with listening to your friends be all romantic with their boyfriends, you were okay with everyone.

sure, sometimes you wish you had someone to call at night and talk nonsense with, and yes, it would be nice to have someone you can call yours and someone who would sit next to you as if any other place was unacceptable.

but those were all things you could adjust with, all things you have grown to get used to.

“but seriously, you don’t like a single person we set you up with, i know you have commitment issues but i don’t think you’re even trying,” megan, who you could always count on to give you a reality check, spoke up with you guessed it, her boyfriend’s arms around her.

next to her, faye pursed her lips and turned away from the conversation to say something to her boyfriend, you were at least grateful that she didn’t add to the advice.

“you were single till two months ago, don’t act like you’re some love guru,” you bite back and the whole table falls silent and you hate it.

you hate that you have to sit here and listen to them advising you as they’ve figured it all out.

you hate that you look bitter as fuck right now.

you hate that, just because you don’t have a partner, everyone thinks you’re miserable and lonely.

you hate that you probably are miserable and lonely.

“okay, let’s look at the menu, what does everyone want?” mia chimes in, the mom of the group, the problem fixer where glaringly you are the problem at this table, and everyone is gracious enough to follow suit, and check the menus.

except you.

“i think i’m going to leave actually, i feel pretty tired,” you pick up your bag and immediately everyone starts protesting, “you know i didn’t mean it in that way,” megan grabs your hand with softer eyes and you nod, “i didn’t either, i’ll meet you guys another time.”

and just like that, you’re not mad at her anymore.

“please stay, it’s been so long since we’ve met like this,” faye whispers next and you want to scream that it could’ve been just you and the girls, that you hated their boyfriends coming as extended versions of themselves but she did stay quiet, she didn’t encourage your friends shitting on you so you sit back down.

“sorry, i’m late,” your ears pick up on a new voice and you instinctively look up.

you almost kill yourself on the spot.

“hey guys, this is jimin, my friend, i hope it’s okay if he joins us,” noah, megan’s boyfriend gets up and hugs his friend who very gladly returns the hug and nods at everyone at the table as they introduce themselves.

but you already, unfortunately, know jimin.

just not from here, or from any recent period in your life but from a buried piece of school history.

and when he gets to you, you mumble your name and immediately look back at the menu.

what was he doing here?

did he recognize you?

you hope the fuck not because there wouldn’t be a bigger embarrassment than him remembering that he rejected you even before you could ever ask him out.

but when he sits next to you, you stiffen up, mutter out some dish’s name, and pretend to be very interested in the shape of your plate.

why did he smell so good?

“oh yeah, i think she went to the same school,” you hear faye’s voice and immediately, your hands clench on your lap.

“really?” and his voice isn’t familiar or unfamiliar, you know it’s been years, and voices, sounds, and faces change but jimin’s voice always had a certain warmth that no one else seemed to have.

and he still had it.

he carried that warmth everywhere.

especially in his eyes, which were looking right at you when you lifted your head up.

“i’m sorry?” you clear your throat and faye answers, “he’s from your school,” and you make a ‘is that so?’ face and quietly nod along.

“which year did you graduate in?” jimin speaks from your left, you swear he’s recognized you already when he leans into your figure, and god, if that didn’t make you want to shoot yourself.

“2015,” you say and then grab your wine glass, keeping it close to your mouth so that you don’t have to speak.

“oh same!”

you fucking know!

he is delighted of course and the smile on his face still makes your face red.

and that knowledge only twists your guts further.

“that’s great,” you dare to glance briefly to nod at him and then turn back to everyone else.

“okay.” he purses his lips and looks away.

fuck.

you were being rude.

it didn’t seem like anyone really minded cause they continued with their conversations but you and jimin were now deathly silent.

you had to fix this.

you can’t have him hate you in the present too.

“i know you,” is apparently the best you can do and you want to smack yourself when he raises his eyebrows at you because, from a supposed stranger, that was creepy and mildly horrifying to hear.

“oh?”

“yeah, you were in the cinderella play in school, the prince,” and it was out.

now you have to hold your breath and see if he laughs in your face.

“i was,” and then he cranes his neck to look at you.

really look at you.

you wait.

you know he’s going to hate you when he figures it out, you know that you’re going to kill yourself at this table.

but he keeps looking, eyebrows narrowing and dropping, eyes scanning your every feature, and you know he’s putting his earlier pieces together, that it’s finally clicking for him.

his smile disappears.

his eyes lose all warmth.

you can tell the second that it clicks for him.

“you were cinderella.”

you can’t hide, you can’t look away, you can’t run, all you can do is meet his cold and sharp gaze.

and nod.

he looks away, puts his head down, and lets out the heaviest sigh.

you try not to reach for the knife on the table.

the rest of the dinner was…awkward.

so painfully awkward.

once in a while, the conversation would turn to you both and you would force yourself to say a few words before going mute whereas jimin enjoyed the conversations only to fall mute whenever you spoke.

it was embarrassing, the hot kind of embarrassment that paralyzed your entire body, every movement you made felt unnatural and forced, every time your hand moved, jimin would jerk away and towards the end, you just folded your hands on your lap and refused to be mobile.

if anyone noticed anything, they didn’t say a word.

“we should still get a few more drinks,” megan insists outside the restaurant and you twist your entire face at her, “what?” she shrugs her shoulders and you look away, panic rising in your throat.

two hours beside jimin was torture enough.

any more and you would probably combust.

“actually, i agree,” jimin steps away from his conversation with noah and for a split second, you catch him looking at you but you turn away, though the split second still leaves your knees shaking.

“i would love to host you guys at my place if everyone is comfortable,” he offers graciously, a smile reaching his eyes, warmth so bright and inviting on his face but you know that the invitation didn’t extend to you.

and the same way you fell head over heels for him, you see everyone around you falling for him, their eyes soften, they all nod at him and start cheering at the long night ahead of them and you, well, you just want to go home, knock a few teeth out and escape from the country with a fake passport.

but everyone turns to you, your silence is a bit too loud in their chaos and you stammer as all of their faces pick up in anticipation.

“i’m gonna turn in for the night, you guys go ahead, have fun!” you raise your fists in cheer, cringe internally at yourself, swallow that shame, and start waving goodbye and turning around to leave.

and you were truly so close.

so, so close.

your cab was booked, the night was done and you exhaled in relief.

until you hear steps coming towards you, “come, it will be fun,” jimin’s voice was still new, a sound that almost knocked you over and you shifted on your feet, “you don’t want me there.”

“did i tell you that?”

“you don’t need to, jimin,” you hate how breathless you sound when you say his name.

jimin tilts his head at you, eyebrows furrowing again and you want to duck and crawl away from his sight, “i would lov-“

and your cab pulls up.

you clear your throat, “thanks for inviting me, but i have to go, goodnight,” and you step away towards your cab, not waiting for his response.

as your cab pulls away, you avert your eyes away from the pavement where he stands, eyebrows furrowed still, and eyes following the tires of the cab.

you take a deep breath in.

you would never see your first crush again.

and that was probably for the best.

sixth grade was life-changing for you.

it was the first time you realized you could feel so much for one person, even if you never intended it to happen that way.

you didn’t even know someone called jimin existed in school until he walked into your practice room, with a head full of thick, soft hair, with this smile that had you frowning, with this walk so confident which was uncommon in guys your age.

everyone was busy being cool, everyone was busy being something they were not but jimin was always just him.

when your drama teacher announced him as the prince in your drama, you nodded and looked away, passing him the script later and walking away.

liking jimin was never part of the plan, liking jimin wasn’t something you ever saw as a possibility, you always thought his personality was too much, too loud, and that he was a little too naïve and a little too bubbly.

but soon, he became your prince, as if every terrible cliché in the world had to come true, he became everything you would ever want in someone.

days passed, you watched the photos on your friend’s instagram from the night that you never ended up staying for, and you felt a jolt of joy every time jimin was in their pictures.

he still looked fucking gorgeous, he still smiled with his entire face, and he was still tall and moved with a confidence that guys, even at your age now, usually lacked.

it was a shame that he hated you.

you sighed, put your phone down, and waited for your nephew to burst out of his preschool class. as an aunt, you were constantly on babysitter duties, those duties included picking and dropping him places, taking him out to the park, attending parent-teacher meetings if your sister was too busy like she was today.

it was exhausting at times but your nephew was your baby too.

speaking of your baby, sunoo runs out the door full-speed, eyes darting everywhere before they land on you, you’ll always remember his smile as he heads straight towards you, your heart always picks up and immediately your arms are open to him.

“hey baby,” you mumble into his hair and he giggles, holding onto you tightly and you stand up, with him still koala wrapped around you.

when you look down again, a little girl is staring up at both of you with large eyes and you are immediately concerned.

where are her parents?

why is she alone?

“bubba, do you know your friend here?” you ask sunoo, who, to your relief, nods aggressively and signals to be put down.

and as soon as his feet are on the ground, he hands you his bag to hold her hand and your eyebrows jump up your forehead. sunoo was a very shy kid, he didn’t talk much to kids in the class, and his world was only your family.

so, when they both smile at each other with half their teeth still growing, your heart warms and you bend down to their height, “hello sunoo’s friend, can i know your name?” you hold out your hand and the girl shyly reaches out to take it, “arin,” she whispers before putting her hand back in sunoo’s and you giggle at the sight.

they were adorable.

“is it your first day here, arin?” you don’t remember seeing her and she nods, “this is my new school.”

“ah okay, sunoo, do you want to head inside for the meeting? arin can come in as well, yeah?” you look at them and hold out your hands to each of them which they happily take and you almost collapse when you turn around.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.”

jimin stood, a few feet away from you, with a pink backpack held loosely in his hands and your face immediately dropped.

this can’t be real.

this cannot be your tuesday morning.

this cannot be your life at all.

“what are you doing here?”

“what are you doing here?” you stare at him pointedly with your arms across your chest and he rolls his eyes, “that’s my niece next to you, she started here today,” and at that, you bend a little to see arin’s face and surely, the resemblance was there.

full cheeks.

and warm eyes.

god loved to punish you.

“oh.” and arin smiles at you, you smile back a little hesitantly and turn to see jimin who’s eyebrows have furrowed deeper than ever.

“yeah,” he looks exasperated at your presence and you try not to get hurt over it, “this is my nephew, by the way,” you point to sunoo, not knowing what else to do or say, and he waves at jimin with a toothy smile and like magic, jimin’s entire face melts into the most beautiful smile.

oh, fuck him.

he starts walking over and you clutch sunoo’s bag tightly, watching as his feet fall one after the other, watching as he completely avoids looking at you when he bends down to ruffle sunoo’s hair and press a kiss to arin’s head.

you hate when men are nice to kids, it makes it so much harder to despise them.

“oh, sunoo’s aunt! i didn’t know you came with your boyfriend,” you freeze at the sound of sunoo’s teacher coming from the hallway and jimin freezes too as she starts quickly walking over to you.

marjorie was an older woman who loved sunoo and you, she was the only teacher you trusted completely and she was also a bit chatty.

this was a live nightmare.

“he’s so handsome, good for you,” she slaps her hand on your arm while gushing at jimin and you, once again, wish to change your identity and immigrate to some unknown island.

“we’re not-“

“that’s not-“

and you both pause to glare at each other with pure venom in your eyes.

he may have been your first crush but he was insufferable and you didn’t need someone else to think that you were together with him and his horrid personality.

jimin probably thought you were enjoying this, people mistaking you to be a couple, just like in school, but he was so wrong, he wasn’t nearly as cute as he was in school.

marjorie clears her throat and stares at you with anticipation, you hate to break her bubble but, “i don’t know who he is marjorie, i think he’s related to your new student here,” you point to arin and she starts looking between the both of you in confusion and jimin extends his hand to her, “i’m arin’s uncle, i’m here for her parent-teacher meeting.”

she nods with a smile, taking his hand graciously, “oh that’s lovely, arin’s mom did say her uncle was coming today, come in, come in, you too, sunoo’s aunt,” and starts walking ahead of the both of you into the classrooms.

you and jimin follow her in, you watch as he takes in the school and the classrooms and smiles at the artwork made by the children all over the walls, you look away with an irritated scowl.

why did he pretend to be some children-loving, kind jesus when he was absolutely vile to you?

“by the way, you two look so good together, it’s a shame you’re not a couple,” marjorie smiles at the two of you and you both nod stiffly at her which seems to delight her as she walks into a room.

you and jimin glare at each other one last time before following her in.

sunoo is still holding arin’s hand as you and jimin awkwardly follow the two of them outside the school, the parent-teacher meeting was done, thankfully, only two other teachers assumed you were a couple but was that really a win?

“okay sunoo, why don’t you say bye to your friend and we can go home?” you step forward from the slow, uncomfortable pace set by you and jimin, sunoo pouts and tightens his hand around arin’s which makes you frown, and look at jimin who was also observing the scene in front of them.

“but arin,” he starts tearing up, his face scrunching up and your panic rises, “it’s okay baby, you’ll see her in class tomorrow and every day after,” you try to calm him down, “it’s saturday tomorrow,” he whimpers and you wince, “well, it’s only two days bub, i’m sure arin wants to go home too,” and arin starts pouting too, “no.”

wow, she looked even more like jimin when she pouted.

you look at jimin again helplessly and he also seems to be panicking, at least you weren’t alone.

“sunoo, arin,” he bent down, “you two are in the same class, you will see each other again soon, for now, everyone should go home after class,” jimin’s tone was strict but still soft enough not to trigger any tears but just when you think he’s a better guardian than you, arin huffs and throws her bag on the floor, “no!”

you almost join the bag to laugh on the floor at the shock in jimin’s face.

“she never does this,” jimin says with his mouth still wide open as he gets up and you raise your eyebrows, “i think she gets it from you, the drama of it all, it’s cute, don’t worry,” and he glares at you.

“kids, for today, we have to go home, another day, i’m sure we can do something,” you try to appease them and jimin scoffs next to you, making you narrow your eyes.

“wouldn’t you love that?” your mouth falls open as his eyes roll back in irritation.

the fucking gall this man has.

“shut the fu-“

your colorful words are interrupted by sunoo and arin, who are so in sync already, that they begin their sniffing and subsequent loud cries together.

you immediately shut up to meet jimin’s eyes in horror as both of you see the kids melt into a puddle of tears before you.

“okay, okay! what do you want?” jimin is the first to give in and you want to smack him on the head, you should never give in to kids, that was the rule, you should always wait for their meltdown to finish and then bribe them with something less than what they want.

“seriously?” you give him a dirty look.

“i hate to see her cry,” he whispers to you and if it were anyone else, you would gush, to be honest, you were gushing, but you were also hiding it really well.

“playdate!” it’s like they never cried at all, children were truly magical.

you stare at jimin, waiting for him to respond because if you guys agreed to the playdate, you were also agreeing to spend the next few hours together.

and you didn’t want to be the one to agree to that, it was bad enough that he thought you were getting a kick out of meeting him like this.

he finally lifts his head to look at you, you shrug at him with your heart beating thunderously against your chest, you almost place your hand on it to calm it down but it only gets louder when jimin smiles at you, “sure, that would be fun.”

“yay!” sunoo and arin burst into jimin’s house, throwing their shoes and bags at the doorstep to wander off into the house and you are left with jimin, who just like you, would rather be anywhere else.

“thanks for hosting, we’ll do it next time,” you mumble while shrugging your coat off and he smirks, “if you want to see me again, you can just say that.”

you throw your coat on his face and stomp into the house, letting go of any politeness or manners that you would usually have and his giggles float into the air around you, making you scowl.

if he wanted to behave like a pig, he would be treated like one.

“i meant it though, sunoo doesn’t talk to anyone so it was nice to see him bond with arin, but i won’t be the one hosting it, it would be my sister, so no one’s dying to see you, settle down,” you sit down on the sofa, keeping your back straight and legs neatly crossed over the other, and scanned the house that you’ve only seen on instagram till now.

it was a nice house, cosy and bright and definitely expensive.

“arin doesn’t usually talk to anyone either so works for both of us.”

“but what if i wanted to see you?” he joins you on the couch and you roll your eyes, “can you stop with that nonsense?”

“it’s not nonsense, just a question,” jimin shrugs, “tea or coffee?” and you’re appalled at his skills of diverting a conversation, “green tea, if you have it, thanks,” and he laughs, walking into the kitchen, “you know, you don’t have to be so formal with me, we know each other,” and you squirm in your seat.

“i know you’d prefer it if we didn’t,” and jimin pops his head out of the kitchen, “what makes you think that?”

“seriously?”

was he dumb or were you overthinking this?

you get up and walk over to the kitchen where jimin stands, in the simple t-shirt and jeans under his coat, and he looks unjustly attractive in that bland outfit.

“did you forget school or something?” you ask again and he shakes his head, handing you a mug of steaming green tea, “i haven’t forgotten anything, i’m very sharp in case you didn’t notice already,” and you have to let out a groan at his tone.

“i know you hate me, jimin, you don’t have to sugarcoat anything just because we’re older now,” you take a sip, appreciating the light sweetness in the green tea, “did you add honey?”

“nope, cinnamon and i don’t hate you, where the fuck did you get that?” he looks at you as if you’re insane, as if you’ve imagined the times he ignored you in school, as if you’ve imagined him smiling at everyone but you during drama practice, as if you’ve imagined him leaving the stage without even looking at you.

was this what people called ‘gaslighting’?

“um you were an asshole to me and an absolute angel to everyone else,” you try to sound cool and casual about the whole thing but you were dying a little inside about having to have this conversation.

“when?”

“always.”

“no, but when exactly?”

“are you really going to make me say it?” you raise your eyebrows at him, there was absolutely no way that he didn’t know that he was your first crush and that he hated being liked by you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” and you force yourself to smile because if you didn’t, you might just throw the mug in your hands, onto his face.

“you look weird,” he frowns at you and you purse your lips, trying to keep your calm, “i really have no idea why you think i hate you, then or now.”

and you were done.

“during play practice! you smiled at everyone, talked to everyone, played along with everyone, talked to them even after the play finished but never to me! are you happy now that i’ve said it?” you push the mug away from you on the counter and fold your arms across your chest, looking away to some corner in the kitchen.

if there was a feeling more dreadful than shame, you were feeling it right now.

how embarrassing that you still remember every single detail about him, how your adolescent mind never really let him go, how your crush on him was so clear, so true that it never left you.

“y/n,” he calls out and your heart is in your throat.

his voice, even as a kid, was so soft, he always spoke so well, he always spoke as if the opposite person was the most interesting person in the world but somehow, that tone never came when he talked to you.

“can you look at me?”

“no.”

“no?” he laughs out, palms coming up to cover his smiling face and for a moment, you’re starstruck again, you can only stare at his smile that held the world’s love and warmth, from your periphery though.

“okay, don’t look at me but i never hated you-“ and just as you’re leaning into listen to jimin, loud stomps break the moment and you’re both turning to see who’s coming.

it’s sunoo.

and he’s crying.

“baby, what happened?” you get up from your seat to sit on your knees in front of sunoo, “home!” is all he says and you frown, “that’s no way to talk in a home that has invited us, sunoo,” you weren’t as strict as his mom but kids needed to be disciplined from time to time.

“it’s okay,” jimin sits beside you, “what happened, big guy?” he coos at sunoo who instantly falls into jimin’s arms and you’re left baffled, this wasn’t like sunoo at all, he never touched anyone until he liked them.

this was dangerous.

“arin’s not giving me her toys, i want to play too,” sunoo says between hiccups and whines and you straighten beside jimin, “those are arin’s toys sunoo, you should ask someone before you use their stuff, you know this,” and he falls silent.

“but arin should also share, right? she should know that too,” jimin rubs his palms on sunoo’s back who nods furiously, “i asked!”

“okay, let’s call arin and we can sort this out?” jimin suggests but sunoo shakes his head, “home,” he says again but with exhaustion instead of anger.

oh, the trials and tribulations of a 5-year-old.

and you know that once he’s tired, he won’t listen to a word, “i think we’ll head home, he’s tired so,” you scoop sunoo up in your arms and he immediately curls into your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” jimin sighs and you let out a laugh, “they’re 5-year-olds’s jimin, it’s no one’s fault, and we’ll arrange something for them at mine or my sister’s, okay?” you don’t know why you’re trying to console him but it came automatically.

at the door, jimin casually wraps your coat around you, being careful to not disturb sunoo who was already dozing off, and you walk to your car with your hands and heart full.

“let’s talk sometime, yeah?” jimin says from next to you and you narrow your eyes, “why?”

“god,” he throws his head back with a delighted look on his face, “i just want to talk, jeez,” and you nod reluctantly.

“here,” he opens the door for you to put sunoo in carefully, you could’ve done it yourself but you didn’t mind the help.

“thanks…for today, it was nice of you,” you look at jimin and he nods with a teasing smile, “i can be very nice,” and you roll your eyes, closing the door and effectively creating a barrier between you two.

and you can finally breathe.

while you pull away, you feel your heart thud and thud and thud again.

seeing him with sunoo and spending so much time alone with him did a number on you, you’ll have to write down why you hate him to make sure that no lingering feelings surface but as you leave, he smiles at you through your side view mirror and you’re not sure you ever stood a chance.

it only took you a few seconds to understand what you felt, that it was against everything you had believed until then.

it was the first time you were so close to a guy, his hands were a little above your waist, your hands were on his shoulders, and his face was (so) close to yours.

you were practicing for the ballroom scene and when you looked at his eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, you felt your stomach drop with the realization that you liked him, this guy that seemed so ordinary some minutes ago, became something magical, something beyond you and your heart.

“come closer, you two,” your drama teacher shouted over the music and you mindlessly shuffled forward and jimin moved with you, hands tightening on you by instinct and your breath hitched.

you danced weakly, still reeling with the consciousness of liking him and he looked like he did any other day.

later that day, everyone left the practice room except you and jimin, you waited for him to look at you at least once, say anything, you would’ve hung onto any word but he scurried out of the room just as you opened your mouth to tell him what you felt.

“jimin, can we talk? i think i lik-” and he was out of the door.

as if he could sense what was coming next and wanted to avoid it.

and since then, you never brought back the courage to tell him anything.

you had to make peace with that, your buried feelings in your heart had to stay buried.

and you coped with that until the day of the actual play, until he looked like he wanted to say something too, right when the ballroom scene started.

but then, he didn’t turn back on the stage, and you were left warm from his touch, cold from his absence, hurt from his steps away from you, and hopeful from how he looked at you in the eye while you danced.

“are you sure that it’s the same guy?” your sister’s voice came from your phone’s speaker and you sighed, “unfortunately, yes, he is,” and she laughed an evil laugh that told you how much she loved this situation.

“this is golden, you used to be so obsessed with him,” she gasped, you were sure her mind was playing the whole reel of you gushing about jimin, “that was a long time ago, give it up.” you groaned and scrolled mindlessly through your instagram.

jimin had sent you a follow request after you left his house a couple of days ago, you almost fell from the bed when you saw it pop up on your screen but what was more embarrassing was the speed with which you accepted the request and sent one back.

“oh my god, i just remembered how you would go for that weekly school exercise thing just to see him! you used to bend forward, backward, to see him a few lines away, this is amazing, this is amazing!” she sang from your phone and you winced at that memory.

it was true, you only went to the weekly drill to see jimin, a quick glance of his face used to make you unexplainably happy.

but with your fingers scrolling through his posts now, you guessed that some things just don’t change.

jimin would probably be doing the same thing, no one sends an instagram request without the intent to stalk that person’s profile, right?

but maybe he has a life and you don’t.

sigh.

“can you send me a picture of what he looks like right now? also, what is sunoo doing?” she asks and you frown, “sunoo is sleeping and why do you need his picture?”

“i just want to see,” and she starts rambling about how she deserves it as your sister, you tune it out, getting up to answer the door when the bell rings.

“it’s just so crazy to me that he’s back in your life, like imagine meeting your first crush in your nephew’s school? i bet it’s only yo-“ but you’re not listening to her at all anymore because at the other side of the door, are jimin with arin, who have both now heard your embarrassing older sister.

“anyway, send me a picture after you’re finished stalki-“ and you cut the call.

“hello.” you clear your throat, and he waves his hand while arin beams at you.

“oh wait, please come in,” you open your door wider, watching with wide eyes as they both step in and take in your home, you are suddenly too conscious about your pajamas and hair.

you weren’t expecting visitors.

what is he even doing here?

just as you’re about to ask jimin, he turns to you with a guilty look which consists of sad, puppy eyes and a slight pout.

arin truly gets it from her uncle.

how is that look not turning you off?

you know for a fact that the same exact look on another man would have just pissed you off.

“sorry to come so suddenly, you mentioned where you lived in one of our messages and arin was killing me all morning about wanting to see sunoo, and i tried to calm her down, i really did but you know how it gets,” jimin rambles on and on, and you nod along, only half distracted by his long coat and ruffled hair.

he must have come in a rush too.

and yes, you were texting each other and no, it’s very casual and friendly talk only.

“i thought they were fighting?” you ask and signal jimin to follow you into the kitchen where you put on a pot of water to boil.

how did he look like he belonged in your space when he was in it for all of two minutes?

“i thought so too,” jimin laughs and you smile at the sound of his laughter, you loved it then, and you love it now, someone should shoot you to snap you out of whatever magic spell jimin has cast on you.

“arin baby, what do you like?” you turn to her and she shakes her head, “you’re not going to ask me?” jimin raises his arms up in question and you hum, “you take what i give you, park jimin,” and he’s laughing again.

wow, you must be some extraordinary comedian.

“sunoo is sleeping right now but i’m sure he would love to see you guys, i’ll just be right back with him,” you place a cup of green tea in front of jimin and start heading out of the room.

“honey?” you hear as you’re leaving, “nope, cinnamon,” you reply, ignoring the shiver up your spine from how he called out honey.

after a lot of struggle with sunoo’s blanket and begging him, he was finally out of the room and standing in front of arin with his arms crossed, you and jimin watched with interest as they stared at each other.

“what do you think they will do?”

“fight?” you offer and jimin rolls his eyes at you, “they’re kids,” and you shrug, “kids are very good at fighting.”

and your eyes snap back to them when arin hugs sunoo over his crossed arms, you and jimin look at each other with your hearts melting as sunoo tries to resist but soon, gives up and wraps his arms around her.

“they’re so cute,” he whispers, and you nod with your hand over your heart.

sunoo and arin then take off to the living room where his toys are laid out and they’re lost in their own world within the next five minutes.

you and jimin sit in the kitchen, sipping your tea and looking at each other, only to return to sipping your tea, words lost in your tongues and throats.

“was that your sister on the phone?” and you ignore it, staring at the cup of tea with much focus and interest, “hey, she was, wasn’t she?” his voice gets more teasing, more light, more carefree and you hate that it makes you smile, you hate that your cheeks still flush in his presence.

“i won’t tell anyone or will i?” he winks at you when you finally look up and you groan, slamming your face into the table and he giggles next to you, uncontrollably.

“i’m going to kill myself,” you mumble into the table and he brings his hand forward to push your face away from the table and…towards him, his face and you almost fall off a chair once again because of him.

“don’t worry, i stalked you too.”

it was scary, how quickly you could come to terms with the fact that you liked jimin again, how quickly your heart accepted him even if ages passed and even if you’ve both changed.

“why do you even like him?” this was a question that your friends had asked you then, a question that your sister asked you then, and a question you often asked yourself.

it was simple to you.

jimin was different.

softer than other men but stronger too.

more delicate but also more protective.

he could make you blush and burst into laughter, in all of two seconds.

he was always like that, even when kids back then were trying to be cool and tough, jimin carried a bright, easy smile with care for the people around him. even if it didn’t always extend to you, it was still there.

but you think that might have changed.

“and you’re sure you are free to pick sunoo up?” your sister asks and you nod happily, “absolutely, don’t worry, i got him,” and she thanks you before cutting the call.

and now, you’re standing in front of his school in a better outfit than you normally would wear, you’re giddy with sweaty palms and flushed cheeks, but you don’t hate this.

“looks like someone’s all dressed up,” you don’t stop yourself from grinning at jimin’s voice from a few feet away.

fine, maybe you’ve been picking sunoo up a lot more these days but that’s just you being the best aunt in the world.

“unlike you, people like putting an effort into their outfits and personal style,” but you’re lying straight out of your teeth, jimin had a very good sense of style but he didn’t need to know that and besides, when he laughs and bumps your shoulder with his, your heart lights up.

so, this is what park jimin is to everyone else.

this is what everyone else felt when they were next to him.

how did all of them not fall in love with him?

you couldn’t have been the only one.

you don’t think you’ve ever felt this sure of something in your life.

you like chocolates, but not in milkshakes or when they are dark.

you like reading books, but sometimes you get into a slump.

you like romantic comedies, but sometimes, you find them cringeworthy and unrealistic.

you like jimin.

but….nothing, you just liked him.

“should we go get ice cream after this?” you turn to see him and he raises his eyebrows so, you quickly backtrack, “sunoo keeps asking for it and arin would like it too,” and he nods at it, you nod fiercely with him.

what your nephew wants, he gets, of course.

“i didn’t ask for ice cream,” is the first thing that flies out of sunoo’s mouth when you tell him about it, you are frozen with your knees bent as jimin stifles a burst of laughter behind his palms and you know if you turn around, you might as well bury yourself six feet under.

“sunoo,” you warn-whisper and he just tilts his head at you, you drop your head, there is no point in blaming your nephew for this, you’ve done this to yourself.

you grab sunoo’s hand and speed-walk to your car without looking back, with red cheeks and shaky palms.

the universe seems to be hell-bent on making sure that you embarrass yourself in front of park jimin for the rest of your life.

“hey hey, where are you going?” jimin pulls you back with his hand around your elbow and you purse your lips, “did you not hear my nephew out me?”

he throws his head back in laughter, “i did but don’t be silly, let’s go,” and you frown, “go where?”

“for ice cream,” and you’re lost again, he’s tutting at you, “if you want ice cream, we’re getting ice cream,” and looks down at you with a grin that has you holding your smile back, “okay.”

at the ice cream store, jimin hovers around you, asks you your favorites, asks you if you like desserts, asks if you like movies or tv shows, and you answer each question with increasing fondness towards him.

god, you must love attention.

“you were so intimidating in school,” and your jaw dropped, “no, i wasn’t! if anything, you were intimidating,” and jimin shook his head, “no way, how was i intimidating? i talked to everyone.”

you wipe ice cream from the corners of sunoo’s mouth as you speak, “that was intimidating to me because i didn’t talk to too many people,” and jimin nods, “and for me, you were intimidating, i could talk to literally anyone and everyone but you.”

“but why?”

“why?” he looks up in question and you pause for a second, not knowing if you should continue the sentence, “but why was i intimidating? why couldn’t you talk to me?”

because i would’ve given everything to talk to you, stays deep in your throat.

jimin sits back in his seat, pondering for a few seconds and you almost take it back, you almost tell him to forget it but then he opens his mouth, “you were intimidating because you were always good at what you did,” and your eyes widen by their own accord, you had never heard that from anyone except your drama teacher.

“i don’t know if you remember but i was so lost in the beginning, i didn’t know anything about acting but you set this example that i could follow and it was easier for me, you were constantly checking on me too,” he laughs amusedly, as if that time was playing behind his eyes and you crack a smile too, though your heart just got warmer and warmer until it felt like it was catching on fire.

“you were good at it too, jimin, especially the dance,” he was taken for his dance skills first and he was bloody good at it, “i know, i was amazing,” and you’re throwing a tissue paper at him.

“but i wanted to talk to you,” he nods as he speaks and you can’t help it, “because you knew that i liked you?”

he stops himself from grinning, “that was the biggest shock of my teenage life, y/n,” and you roll your eyes, “i know, it’s hard for me to believe too,” he groans and slides into his seat, making you giggle.

“did you…really like me?” his voice is soft, unguarded, and he throws one arm over his eyes, you notice his cheeks are red too and you shift in your seat, the mood was shifting, you didn’t want to giggle and deny it like you probably would have if he asked that even some ten seconds ago.

“i did,” and he removes his arm, and stares at you unsuredly, as if he doesn’t believe you and you clench your hands on your lap to hold back from saying anything else.

“home!” a chorus from the kids you’ve forgotten about brings you back to life, a life where it wasn’t just you and jimin in it.

jimin smiles, “how about a refill?” and as they cheer out loud, he looks at you, and you know that look.

he had something to say.

you both got scolded by your respective siblings for giving their kids extra ice creams but it also meant that the kids loved you more, you and jimin had giggled about it on text.

it was a win-win for you.

but what was even more of a win-win was that jimin purposefully got them extra ice cream to spend more time with you, you are about 90% sure that’s the reason.

you spent about half the day in that ice cream parlour, and jimin asked you questions that no one else ever has and you asked him all those things you never got to when you were in school.

it was terrifying, to talk to him like that, to give him parts of what made you, you, and it was especially terrifying when you gave all of it away so easily.

“so, you’re coming to pick him up, right? like this isn’t an extra task for you?” jimin’s voice through a phone was different, lower, more serious, you loved it.

“definitely, don’t even worry about it, i’ll pick her up and bring her over,” you didn’t know what it said that he trusted you with his niece but it had to be something good, it made you feel fantastic.

“thank you so much, seriously, i owe you one,” and you can sense the relief in his tone, “you do owe me one, yes,” he laughs at your tone, “you get here, i’ll make it up to you very well.”

on the whole way there, you are so giddy that you can’t stop smiling.

you never understood why people got so excited over phone calls but if it was up to you, you would’ve never even cut the call with jimin.

when you get to the school, sunoo and arin are holding each other’s hands and standing obediently next to margaret.

“hi kids, today auntie is going to take you both home, are we excited?” sunoo and arin raise their hands up in joy and you resist the urge to pick them both up and give them one nice hug.

“her uncle called and said you would be picking her up,” margaret smiles at you knowingly and you roll your eyes, “it’s nothing like that margaret, we’re good friends,” and she scoffs at you but it only makes you giddier.

it felt good that someone, besides you, liked the idea of you two together.

you: picked them up, on my way over!

jimin: thanks again, see you soon <3

you almost throw your phone out of the window in happiness but for the sake of the kids, for them to think you’re not some insane person, you just grin and put your phone aside.

“okay arin, let’s go to your uncle’s place,” after checking them, you fasten your seatbelt and they both cheer again.

oh, you love these kids.

as you pull away, they instantly start rambling about their day, which picture they were made to draw, which teacher annoyed them, which toy was stolen, which color pencil they lost and you nod intently, offering dramatic reactions wherever you could.

“and then mummy told me that i had to throw away some toys but can you talk to mummy? i like my toys,” sunoo whines to you and you sigh, “you got it buddy, i’ll deal with your mother.”

“so arin, what have you been upto? anything exciting?” and she lights up, “i drew a castle today, do you want to see?”

“of course baby, as soon as we’re home, i absolutely have to see it,” your agreement only makes her happier, “our new home is nice, i like it, mummy and daddy made my room pink, and i even have a close friend!”

“is that so? who’s this lucky person?”

“it’s miss ana, uncle jimi’s girlfriend! she’s always over at uncle’s home and she likes me, i like her too.” and she goes back to swinging her legs and poking at sunoo until he laughs.

in the front seat, you are frozen and confused.

“your uncle has a girlfriend?” you try to sound casual and you hate that you’re asking a kid about this but you couldn’t help it.

“yeah.” she shrugs and goes back to sunoo.

you felt your stomach turn.

of course, he has a girlfriend.

of course, you had read it all wrong.

of course, you are the idiot again.

you kept your eyes steady on the road as the feeling of nothingness settled into you.

you would get over this, you got over jimin once, you could do it again and next time, you wouldn’t make the stupid mistake of thinking that anyone could ever like you for anything more than what you present them. you’ve gotten over first boyfriends, situationships, and dates which felt like they would lead somewhere and you would get over this too.

it was weird that you could still feel the same embarrassment of liking jimin, the same pathetic feeling you get when you overestimate yourself and what people feel about you, rises and falls in your chest.

but it was okay.

you’ll get over this.

“oh jimin! jimin!” you turned your face away from classmates who yelled his name.

somehow, the cat was out of the bag and everyone knew about your crush on him, your bets were on one of your play’s cast members but you couldn’t point a finger at anyone. your school was small and boring enough for this kind of stuff to spread quickly.

it was true, you did like him, a lot but you never wanted anyone to know, you only wanted him to know.

you were hoping to catch him alone, tell him that you liked him, and accept whichever response he gave you, he didn’t have to like you back but now, he knew, you knew that he knew, it was just not in the way you ever wanted him to know.

and then one day it happened.

the quiet rejection.

the annoyance of being liked by someone you don’t like back.

“look, look! they’re together” you were in the hallway, talking to your friends and jimin was just a few feet away, your friends were subtly pushing you toward him while you pushed back and his friends were pushing him.

that itself was embarrassing enough.

then, your back hit his back and you froze, skin tingling already but he immediately pushed away, and you heard him yell at his friends.

“how many times have i told you guys not to bring her up? how many?” jimin was a gentle guy, that was the first time he had yelled at someone and it was because of you.

and since then, whenever you were in the same room, he would look away with an irritated sigh, he would leave the room or he would glare at his friends until they shut up.

you took it all in, you really did, you just reasoned to yourself that you too, would be very annoyed if your friends acted like that.

but one day, you were alone in your art classroom, arranging some portraits and he walked in, your eyes met his and you were both too aware of how empty your surroundings were, for the first time in a really long time.

he immediately stepped back, his footsteps landed heavily as he walked away.

no one was there.

no one to make fun of him, no one to see or hear.

but he still pretended that you didn’t exist.

your feelings were more tender then.

your heart was a bit too soft and you had taken that as his reply, his response, his rejection and you buried your crush.

your chest was tight the entire day, you couldn’t speak without choking up because as much as you accepted his rejection, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

he never uttered a word to you since then.

you vowed to yourself never to like anyone too much again.

“how was school, guys? i missed you,” jimin hugged arin and sunoo as soon as they entered his home and you stood near the door frame with your heart in your throat.

today wouldn’t have been so hard if you didn’t have to see him.

they leave his arms and run into the house, their bags and socks left behind and you quickly collect sunoo’s stuff to put them aside.

“hey,” he appears beside you and you nod, keeping your eyes away from his face.

“i missed you too,” and you wish that you didn’t give in to seeing his face because as soon as you turn to face him, you are in front of his warm eyes and smile, the ones you were so jealous others could see.

but whatever feeling tried to creep on you, you shoved it away.

you nod again, swallowing and the warm scene fades and it’s replaced with a stiff awkwardness that both of you feel in a flash.

you see it go away, the warmth, the smile, the eyes, all of it drops and you hate that you feel terrible even if you didn’t do anything.

“arin made a castle drawing, it’s in her bag,” you say and jimin frowns before shaking his head, “of course, i’ll see it later.”

and your head bobs once again, the only response you could produce at the moment and when jimin steps forward, you step back.

“hey, is everything okay?” he asks, fingers reaching to scratch the nape of his neck confusedly, “yeah, everything’s fine.”

this time, he’s the one nodding and pushing his hands into his pockets, “i’ll make you tea, come on,” you have no choice but to follow him in, though you stay at least five steps behind him.

any touch from him would break your resolve, you couldn’t afford that, not anymore.

“honey or cinnamon?”

“honey.”

“alright,” jimin frowns once again, turning away to boil some water.

and you sit there, wondering if this is all you could ever be with him, wondering if both of you were always destined to be close and far, you feel scalded by the fact that he had never mentioned a girlfriend, you hadn’t asked but he shouldn’t have been texting you the way he was.

“you know, i owe you one,” he turns with a mug of steaming green tea and you stiffen in your seat when he hands it to you with a small, unsure smile, “would you accept dinner as me making it up to you?”

twenty minutes ago, you would’ve jumped up, spilling hot tea everywhere, and closed around him, your arms and heart giving even more way for him, but that was twenty minutes ago, now your arms and heart were closing in on themselves.

him rejecting you in school, you could handle.

him hating your presence, you could handle.

but this, you could only handle for about five minutes before you crumbled.

you should’ve never let your young feelings grow and stay.

“don’t worry about it, you don’t have to do anything, it was just one pickup,” you shrug, playing with the handle of your mug and you see jimin visibly deflate.

“okay, i don’t know what’s going on, is everything okay? did i do something?” the pleading in his tone was there, the sincerity in his face was there but you couldn’t believe any of it.

“nothing happened, jimin, it’s just that you don’t have to make up for anything,” you couldn’t bring yourself to confront his betrayal, to ask him about his girlfriend, you know that any answer would just hurt you more.

“fine, i don’t want to make up for anything, i want to take you out on a date, a proper date without anyone else around, because,” and he pauses, you release the breath caught in your chest, grateful and disappointed that he didn’t finish his sentence.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea,” you give a weak smile, feeling your bones tighten in your body, you would snap like a bowstring if this continued.

jimin looks away, chest rising and falling slowly, he squeezes his eyes shut and you see his hands shake as he whispers, “why?”

“sunoo is sleep!” arin’s yell makes you get up immediately, the distraction was welcome and needed, “also, see this!” she shoves her drawing into your hands and you smile at the messy green castle.

“it’s beautiful, arin, just like you,” you tap her nose and she giggles, you are all too aware of jimin’s stare on your back so, you pat her head and rush to take sunoo out of her bed and into your arms.

you held your nephew tighter to you, his sleeping form was the only thing keeping you stable, you never realized before how much you needed him the way he needed you but today, you needed him most even if he was just sleeping in your arms.

you don’t say bye to jimin on your way out, you only hug arin, ask her to take care, and leave his home with your mind so heavy that you feel like you could tip and fall over.

but as you pull away, you catch jimin in your side mirrors, he stands as if he’s lost everything, you almost turn back, break down in his arms, and ask him why he was so cruel to you, but you drive away instead.

“and you’re sure that he won’t be there?” you ask megan for the third time over the phone and she sighs, “listen, it’s his friend, i can’t tell him not to invite his friend but i did tell him that something happened, the rest is truly up to him,” and you bite your lip in annoyance.

it’s been two weeks, you’ve successfully avoided jimin at sunoo’s school, you’ve ignored his calls and deleted his texts without reading them, and you were only one more week away from mentally cutting him off completely.

but again, the universe hated you and noah’s birthday came up right as you were starting to forget that a person named jimin existed.

“you’re right, i’m sorry for being difficult and i’ll be there, noah is sort of my friend too,” you give in, you couldn’t be a bitch to your friends just because you were going through something, and megan hums, “but just know that i won’t judge you at all for not showing up, it’s totally your call.”

you thank her and close your eyes as the call goes dead on the other end.

what a fucking mess.

“happy birthday to you!” you sing with everyone else as noah shyly stands in the center with the birthday candles lighting up his face.

it was nice to see your friends again, you melted into every hug they gave you as you walked into noah’s home, you almost teared up at how much you needed them, you were annoyed with all of them just weeks ago but now, you saw clearly that you needed people who cared about you in your life.

“how are you feeling now?” faye put her head on your shoulder as you sat on the couch and you hum, “i’ve been better babe but i’ll be fine soon, i promise,” you squeeze her hand and she purses her lips, “i don’t think he will come, you know, it’s already been a while since the party started, everyone will leave in an hour or so,” and you know that she’s trying to make you feel better.

“thank you for saying that but even if he does come, it’s okay, it’s not like i’ll see him after this,” you shrug and she nods unsurely, “but it’s also okay if you feel shitty that he’s here, you know? you don’t have to pretend that you’re fine with all of it, it’s not a great situation, he lied to you and you’re hurt, you’re allowed to be hurt.”

you blink back tears as you try to rush some air into your lungs that tighten with each word from her.

“i love you, faye.” you whisper, “i love you more,” she smiles and pats you on the back before getting up, “now i’m going to get us some drinks so you stay there in that emotional mood,” you laugh at her and shoo her away.

maybe you weren’t fine now, you won’t need to be for a while but you’ll be okay at some point.

you sigh, you don’t want to be here anymore and pretty much everyone’s given you the green light to leave, you can always have drinks with faye another time so, you get up, surer than ever that you don’t want to be okay anymore, you kiss your friend’s goodbye, you thank noah for inviting you and you step out to the cold night.

right near your car, just as you feel relieved and light, you hear it.

“y/n?” and then quick footsteps.

a presence behind you.

his voice in your ears and bones.

and you freeze.

you hold the key to your car and your legs feel so heavy, they might as well be dead, and you blink, you do nothing but blink until he’s in front of you.

you almost cry at the sight of his face.

“you’re leaving?” jimin huffs out, his breath leaving white clouds in the night and you just stare.

how could someone so beautiful lie to you?

you only come back to earth when you feel him scanning your face and body, as if he was re-remembering what you looked like, as if he was savoring you in front of him but you knew it was all deceitful.

and you lose it.

“don’t you feel ashamed?” you breathe out, feeling every nerve in you tighten impossibly, your body was once again a bowstring being pulled, in front of him.

tight and so breakable.

jimin’s entire face falls, “about what, y/n? why haven’t you been answering my texts and calls? why are you suddenly ignoring me? what is going on? i tried to come up with so many reasons but none of them made sense, i thought we were heading towards something good?” and his face looks so pained, so sad that you almost break.

almost.

“i should’ve never fucking liked you in school, i should’ve never given you that ego boost, i should’ve seen you for who you are,” you angrily spit out as you fumble with your keys and open your car.

without looking at him even once, you climb in, leaning back once you are in.

but immediately, as you begin to start the engine, another door opens and jimin is in your car.

jimin is in your car.

“what the fuck are you doing? get out!” you yell at him, and he shakes his head, “i’m not going anywhere until you explain to me what is going on.”

“i don’t have to explain shit to you, get out jimin, or i swear to god,” you huff out, feeling your hands shake from the rage you felt, he doesn’t move an inch, “or what?”

“seriously?”

“yeah, if i don’t get out, what will you do?”

“i’ll fucking crash this car.” you level your glare on him and he sits back, “do it.”

“what?”

“do it, crash it, i’ll pay for the repairs, but i’m not getting out until you tell me why you hate me right now.” the calmness he had at that moment, the level in his tone never wavering, pissed you off even more.

“fine, we can sit here all night,” you shrug, desperate to match his cool, you switch off the engine, “fine by me,” jimin shrugs back and you clench your teeth to not groan at him.

minutes pass, you tap your foot against the floor of the car, he looks out the window, and both of you sit stubbornly without making a move.

you should be furious.

you should be still trying to kick him out.

but you slowly start to deflate, your anger fades bit by bit as the feeling of missing him, liking him even now, begins blooming in you again.

“who is ana?” you whisper, not trying to hide how sad just mentioning her name made you.

whatever his answer was, you would move on.

you never liked him for him to like you back, not then and not now, but it felt good to believe that somewhere, he felt the same desperate, pathetic love that you did, that somewhere, he was different with you the way you were different with him, that he too lost his cool and common sense when it came to you.

“what?” he frowns and you sigh, “please don’t lie to me jimin, just tell me who she is and why you never told me that she was your girlfriend.” you choke back the sobs building in your throat, and jimin immediately leans towards you, “hey, hey, what girlfriend are you talking about? i don’t have a girlfriend.”

you laugh bitterly through your tears, “so, you’re calling your baby niece a liar?”

“arin? what did she say?” he continues to frown, seemingly growing more confused by every passing second, which only makes you more confused, “that ana is your girlfriend? she’s always at your place?”

“ana? oh!” and jimin throws his head back on the seat, eyes closing in what you thought was relief, “ana is her new babysitter, y/n,” you huff out in annoyance, “believe it or not jimin but i’m not as stupid as you think i am, how fucking convenient is it that a woman your niece calls your girlfriend, turns out to be her sitter.”

and he gapes at you before throwing his arms up, “i’m sorry that the truth is convenient and fits with the situation!” he yells back at you and you glare at him, “oh really? then why is she over when you’re there with arin already? why does arin think she’s your girlfriend? do you have an explanation for any of that?”

“i do, but only if you’re willing to at least hear me out,” and jimin is back to calm, back to zen, and you want to push him out of the car, “see, i know it sounds bad if she just mentioned the girlfriend part but i’ve told you, arin is shy, she never talks to anyone, she doesn’t like sitters, she takes a lot of time to get used to strangers so i’m a buffer until she gets used to ana so, that ana can just babysit her at my brother’s place instead of mine.”

you narrow your eyes at him as you process his words. unfortunately, it made a lot of sense, sunoo was the same, that is why you always babysat him.

“okay, then why call her your girlfriend?”

“because she thinks friends if they’re girls are girlfriends,” he sighs out and you purse your lips, that also made sense, especially with kids as young as sunoo and arin.

“i see.” you whisper back, not knowing how to feel about all this, it made sense, you should be over the moon, falling into his arms, telling him that you feel everything again, that you like him again but you freeze instead.

you were so ready to move on.

you were so ready to never see him again.

and you were so ready to never know his response, to never know what he felt.

but you are here, in front of him, as he waited for you to speak with anxious eyes and you only felt overwhelmed.

“okay.”

“okay?”

“thanks for explaining, if you get off, i will go now,” you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you, refusing to look at him even through your periphery.

“seriously? do you need time or is something else wrong?” you hear the pleading in his tone, the desperation, you wonder if you ever sounded like that to him.

“nothing’s wrong, i’m glad you explained, and now, i’d like to go home,” this always happened, whenever your emotions got too much, whenever it seemed like everything would fall on your head and crush you, you slipped into robot mode, where you refused to feel anything, where you refused to be human, where your feelings were nothing but dust in the air.

it’s how you never went back to a boyfriend, how you never begged anyone for anything and it kept you protected.

“why are you doing this?” but god, the crack in his voice might just break your resolve.

“doing what, jimin? i just want to go home,” you try to reason and he huffs in annoyance, “that’s not what this is, you aren’t even looking at me.”

and you pause.

take a deep breath.

look at him.

and the warmth you missed for all your teenage life, lights you up, beyond his frown, his gathering tears, his clear sadness, his warmth peeked through and stared straight at you.

you knew you had to go, leave before you couldn’t but where will you go?

how many times will you turn your back on yourself?

how many chances do you have left with jimin?

and will he ever take those chances the way you will?

“you’ll never like me, jimin,” you start, unwilling but forcing yourself to pull through, he opens his mouth to protest and you cut him off, “you’ll never like me as much as i like you.”

and his mouth falls shut.

“and i’ll always know that, i’ll always know that you like me less than i like you, that you hated me at a time when i would’ve done anything for you, and by some miracle, it’s changed now, you might like me but never as much as i like you, my past of loving you as a kid, will always haunt me, and your rejection then will always hurt me,” you have tears dripping down your chin by the time you’ve finished and you know it will only pain you more if you look at him so, you stare at your lap.

you wait for him to get off, to go away, to finally understand why you two would never work out.

“so, please let’s leave this be, i’ll continue to bring sunoo around for arin, we can be civil for them but whatever this is, i can’t do it, not with you,” you whisper, hoping that it was loud enough for him to hear but he stays eerily still, staring into nothing and you wonder if he didn’t hear you.

“jimin, can you-“

“what about me?”

“now you’re just being childish,” your anger rises again.

“no, i never got the chance to explain my side at all, what if i like you more? what if i liked you way before you did?” your heart stops in your throat at his words but you shake it off, “this isn’t a competition, jimin!”

“fine, then this should just be a casual question, when did you start liking me? in school, when did it start?”

“seriously? what are you trying to prove here?” you turn to fully face him with a scowl.

“just tell me.” he sits just as rigid, just as fed up, and it only irritates you even more but your face goes red nonetheless at the memory, “ball room scene, dance practice.”

“i liked you when you gave me the script,” and you want to look away, ignore all of what he says but you only lean in further and he leans in too as if letting you in on a secret that no one else knows, “i remember exactly how stomach-bottoming it felt, how scared i was because i thought you would never like me back.”

“really?” you’re leaning in even closer, so much more desperate to every other secret of his.

“really, and i’m not saying this because it’s a competition, i’m saying this because i couldn’t then, i didn’t have the courage, i liked you so much that the thought of you rejecting me, it would’ve killed me,” he laughs, both amused and horrified at the truth spilling out from his lips, but you see the fear too, the restrain in his breath, and it makes your own shoulders fall.

“then why did you act so annoyed whenever someone teased you?” you whisper again, embarrassed to ask the question because it made you feel like a kid again, the same kid who hid her feelings to make sure that he wasn’t inconvenienced by your heart.

he drops his head in quiet laughter, “imagine you like this person so much that your whole body fails you, and there’s some idiots making it even harder for me to look you in the eye,” he looks up at you as he says it and your spine weakens to fall on the seat behind you, every word of his puncturing itself into your heart.

jimin copied your movements and fell back too, sighing out, “i also knew how annoying it could be for you so i thought if i acted like that for a while, they would forget but fuck, they were persistent. honestly, i thought you would figure it out because of them.”

“figure out what?” you are breathless by the time the question escapes you.

“your crush was never one-sided, y/n, but mine was, at least for a little while.” you blush, not knowing what to do with your face anymore, you didn’t know if you were smiling or frozen or frowning but the numbness, the blind excitement left you gasping.

and jimin purses his lips, “i might’ve been this bright kid who talked to everyone then, but none of that helped me when it came to you, it was like every bit of confidence i had fell from me when i was around you and it was alarming, you know, it was so fucking scary to feel so different because of one person.”

and there it was.

the confirmation.

that he was different with you, that he too lost his head with you.

“what about later? when we met again?”

“oh that, i was trying to be cool, it didn’t work, right?” he winced and you couldn’t help the laugh bubbling out of you, “nope, not at all.” and jimin bangs his head against the headrest and you sit there, smiling.

it was strange, the elation and frustration you felt, it was strange to sit next to jimin and hear the words from him that you’ve waited for forever.

but you won’t hold that over him anymore and you were done burying your heart.

“i like you,” you say, twisting to face him and he smiles, not bothering to hide it, “a lot, jimin, i liked you then, i like you now, a lot and i’m scared.”

he leans forward to take one of your hands into his palms, you melt your fingers into his skin, and he speaks with a smile and with the world’s confidence and fear, “i like you, i’m sure that like is love too, it’s always been there and i’m scared too.”

“but i like you and i’ll continue to do that while i’m scared.” and any worry you had, flies out the window.

you feel brave.

you feel like you could fly and never see the ground again.

you stare at him for a minute or two, until his face is in your head like it’s your own face and you cross the barrier, in this case, the handbrake in your car to climb into his lap and you shiver when he buries his face into your neck.

you loved him when you didn’t know what it meant, and jimin loved you before he ever knew his heart could feel so much.

and that was enough for you to smile into his hair and wrap your arms tighter around his neck.

“i’ll do the same, jimin.”

jimin felt heavy with the love in his heart, with his arms on your waist, with his fingertips touching your skin, he felt overwhelmed, a bit crazy, and definitely scared out of his mind.

this was it.

the performance.

after today, you probably wouldn’t even look at him again, he’ll probably be just another guy who sees you walk down the hallway.

he knows when this funny feeling in his heart started, you had passed him the script and walked right past him to teach someone else how to do their scenes, and instantly he saw you, he saw nothing but you.

being the loser he was, he messed up any scene he could so that you could walk over, glare at him, and then, help him endlessly, help him until he was perfect (which he already was).

and he was alone in that pathetic-ness, alone in that feeling until one day, you looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky and he didn’t know what to do with himself since that day.

but he had you in his arms, he had you in front of him, he had you in every moment of being on the stage and he knows he can’t just get off.

“and…cut!” jimin deflates, his arms that were so sure of holding you, weaken and fall from you.

then, the lights die and his confidence dies, and he feels ashamed of himself, so much so that he leaves the stage immediately.

he hears the cheers, the screams, the applause but none of that matters when the words he’s wanted to say die inside of him.

but he stops below the stage, looks up to see you hugging everyone on the stage, and hates himself a little but charges forward.

he would love you from afar.

but he would continue to love you.

120 notes · View notes

tkomptgoedluv · 19 hours ago

Text

icantbelieveiletyougetaway.

joost klein x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, they’re so in love with each other it hurts but can’t admit it, joost just wants to be her everything, angst, hurt, comfort, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 4,156.

warnings: very brief allusion to drugging, heavy and frequent references to SA, violence, vague mentions of non-specific mental illness, rpf.

notes: in my head this takes place in 2021-2022 when joost had that really short, almost buzzcut like hair? like the wachtmuziek era. also, very sorry this is late!! it’s still only been half-proofread and i’m not even sure i like how i wrote the ending but here she is anyway. i love her and i hope you do too 💋.

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

with shaking hands, you fumbled around the bathroom floor to find your phone. your chest was heaving, the cries that you struggled to keep quiet were getting all caught up in your throat as you fought meekly through the nausea. you wiped at your face again, desperate to clear your vision and leaving behind a mixture of tears, snot, and smeared mascara on the back of your hand.

the room itself was dark, barely lit up by a singular dim, yellow light, though despite the shadows you could still see how everything was spinning. you couldn’t remember how many drinks you’d had — it hadn’t felt like a lot, you weren’t a lightweight by any means but you didn’t know how else to explain the state you were in. you couldn’t stand up even if you wanted to, your legs strangely numb to the touch and the pounding in your head made staying on the floor all the more appealing anyway.

face down on the grimey, tiled floor you found your phone laying just underneath the sink. you ignored the low battery warning as you swiped through your contacts, squinting through your tears at the screen as if it would actually help you see any better. you were only looking out for one name; the third out of the four that were listed under the letter ‘J’, and the only name to have an emoji next to it.

over the sound of the heavy, techno bass that seemed to shake the walls and the buzz of a hundred different people all talking amongst each other, you heard the line start to dial. it didn’t make sense to call him out of everyone else that could possibly help you; he was infamously known for never picking up the phone. it was ironic for someone so notoriously attached to their screens, his face typically glued to either his phone or his ipad.

but still, you hadn’t so much as thought twice about it as you clicked on his contact and then the call button. With your head tilted back against the wall and your knees curled up tightly against your chest, you prayed to any god listening that by some miracle, he wouldn’t be busy.

“hallo?”

you let out a whimper at the mere sound of his voice, a small, pathetic noise that quickly turned into a cry that you didn’t bother to stifle. he called out your name for a second time, though now in a tone that was much softer than the one before it.

“i’m sorry, i know it’s late.” you paused to take a breath, your voice having cracked like glass as you spoke. “but i need your help. i don’t…joost, i don’t know what to do.”

“it’s okay, just take a big breath for me.” for just a moment you heard shuffling around on the other end of the line. with each of his footsteps the background noise grew quieter until it disappeared completely, following the sound of a door being shut. “where are you?”

“i’m at…i’m at this house but i uh, i really don’t wanna be here anymore. do you think you could…can you just come get me, please? i’m sorry.”

over the sound of a drum and bass beat that played so obnoxiously loud, you struggled to catch all the whispers from joost’s side of the phone call. there was another voice there, that much you could hear, and you struggled to place it despite how familiar it sounded. you tried to concentrate on the faint muttering, straining your ears to hear it over the song that blared just below you.

but then you jumped when the banging started. a sudden flurry of fists pounding against the wood and making the bathroom door rattle within its hinges. from the deep laughs that followed, chances were it was just a group of guys trying to be funny, probably thinking it was one of their friends getting lucky on the other side. and yet still, you found yourself gasping for breath as you choked back fresh tears, all the blood that ran through your veins turning cold.

“schatje? did you hear me?”

you could only hum back in response.

“i said i need you to send me your location, okay? and then i’ll come get you, i promise.”

it was the moment you figured out how to do so that your phone finally gave up on you. after hitting send, the little map displaying your whereabouts popping up in yours and joost’s text chain, your screen began to freeze. in a moment of panic you managed to choke out that you were locked away in a bathroom before it all went black, leaving you to stare at the taunting dead battery symbol.

you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. in a house crammed full of people, perhaps even a few too many than it was built to hold, you felt alone. just a few minutes ago that was all you wanted, to be by yourself, but now it left you with a ringing in your ears. the absence of joost’s voice was enough to throw you inside what felt like a black hole, where time seemed to slow the longer you waited for him.

you found a brief comfort in watching the time pass on the old, analog clock that hung high on the wall opposite you; you figured it was a better thing to focus on besides the sharp ache between your legs. it helped keep you distracted from the way everything just hurt now, whatever it was that was in your system already starting to wear off. without it numbing you to the pain of it all, you could feel the headache brewing behind your eyes and the sting of your split lip.

with each minute that dragged by, the slow, high-pitched tick of the clock echoing inside your ears, your mind began to slip further and further away. every time that you closed your eyes you could see it happening all over again; you could feel his hands back on you, ripping at your clothes and bruising your skin.

all the tears that you had only just managed to blink away came rushing back, continuing to decorate your face with more long, dark streaks of black. surely, this was going to be the thing to finally break you. there would never be any redemption or recovery for you — he’d get to live the rest of his life without burden whilst this was bound to be the death of you.

the more you unravelled, the more erratic your cries grew with hiccups racking your body and a deep burning in your eyes. for once you found yourself grateful for the music’s mind-numbing volume, though somehow it still wasn’t enough to mask the sound of a soft tapping against the bathroom door. like a coward you froze, failing to answer back before you heard your own name being yelled out to you, followed by a harsher knock.

“hey it’s me, it’s joost. can you open the door please?”

as you steadily climbed to your feet, using the edge of the sink to help push you up, your knees began to shake. they threatened to buckle out from under you with every step that you took, each limp towards the door sending a short stabbing pain up to your abdomen. the sensation made you wince, your jaw clenched and a grip on the door handle so strong that it turned your knuckles white.

it was almost sardonic how despite being in a house so loud, everything went quiet as soon as that door swung open. the music never stopped nor did anyone dare to change its volume, but all joost could hear was his own heartbeat thumping in his ears as his eyes met yours. all he could do was swallow, pushing down the bile that was quickly rising up his throat.

even in the low, warm light of the bathroom, he could see the streaked mascara that painted your face and the bloodied lip that was still trickling down your chin. your favourite shirt, the one that he himself had bought you, was torn and just about hanging off your shoulders. it exposed a trail of black and blue spots that started along your shoulder and went all the way down your arms, a couple even dotted down your legs.

joost uttered your name, his voice barely audible over the music downstairs. the corners of your frown twitched, your bottom lip quivering as you shook your head, already answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. from where you stood he could see you shaking, your knees weak and barely holding you up right. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, an arm locking around your waist as his hand found the back of your head, keeping you hidden in his chest.

“jesus christ, what happened to you?”

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the right words to even try and explain what it was you had gone through. you could only weep into the fabric of joost’s jacket, so exhausted and overwhelmed that you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself together in front of him. but it was more than enough of an answer for joost who just held you tighter the harder you cried, fighting back tears of his own.

pulling away as gently as he could, joost still kept you in his grasp. his hands cupped either side of your jaw, calloused thumbs wiping away stray-fallen tears as his eyes danced over your face. with a gaze so intense, you could see his eyes growing sadder the longer he looked you over in the dull light of the bathroom.

“i left stunts outside — he’s still in the car. we could…we should go to the hospital.”

“no!” your own dramatic change in tone caught even you off guard. you couldn’t help it, you were panicking now, pulling joost back by his sleeve as he tried to guide you out of the bathroom. the action made you wobble and almost trip over your own feet, flinching at the sudden cramp you felt deep in your stomach. joost’s grip on you hardened, not nearly enough to hurt but enough to keep you from falling back and hitting your head on the sink. “not tonight. please, i just wanna go home. i’ll be fine.”

“you can barely fucking stand, schatje. you need help.”

“then i promise i’ll go in the morning! but right now i just really need you to take me home, okay? i’m begging you.”

perhaps if joost had a little bit more of a backbone and wasn’t so hopelessly head over fucking heels for you, he would’ve had the courage to say no. he would have been able to look you in the eye and still say that he was going to get you to a doctor, whether you wanted to go or not. but no matter how much he wanted to, how much he hated what you were asking of him, he couldn’t. feeling you trembling in his hands and hearing the fear that shook your voice meant there was longer a single thing that joost wouldn’t do for you.

you were his best friend just as much as he was yours, regardless of all the very non-platonic things the two of you had done together over the years. as far as you were concerned it was just something that you’d do sometimes, only ever as friends. there were never any conversations about it the next morning, never any acknowledgment for what it was you had done the night before; it was almost like it never happened until it would undoubtedly happen again. you always liked it like that though — as long as it meant that you never had to think about how you really felt.

joost, on the other hand, was painfully aware of what he felt about your situation, about you. it was never just sex for him, not even once, and he wanted to talk about it. and he tried to, a couple of times, spending the first few mornings after trying to coax you back into bed just so he could hold you skin-to-skin for a little while longer. but you never wanted to stay and you never wanted to talk about it, either, so joost stopped. he let it become another pain he had to live with and spent each day telling himself that he was okay with that.

it was with only a slight hesitation that he nodded before standing back up straight, slipping his big black jacket off his arms and draping the material gently over your shoulders.

you let joost take on most of your weight as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you back through the house as you focused on just trying to make it down the stairs without tripping. to say that the place was packed was an understatement. people were crammed into every room like sardines, dancing and grinding against each other with stiff, swinging jaws. you hadn’t even heard what it was that had been said over the music, its volume still just as loud and disorienting as it had been when you first arrived.

but joost had heard every word, somehow, despite the sound of his own song polluting the room. it made him freeze on the spot, pulling you to a stop right along with him as he slowly turned to face the group of guys that were standing just in front of the front door. you felt your throat start to close at the sight of him amongst them, standing front and centre with a sick grin plastered across his face, his eyes darting between you and joost.

“what did you just say?”

it might have been the gruff, nauseating voice that you recognised, or maybe it was those ring-heavy hands of his that you could still feel pressed into your skin. you didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, because you knew it was him.

“i said good luck with that one, dude. she doesn’t go down easy; kept trying to fight me the whole time.” his stare then fell from joost onto you, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. “but we still had our fun though, didn’t we schat?”

the crack of joost’s knuckles colliding with his jaw was something you heard before you saw it; the thud of him hitting the ground following soon after. a chorus of screams and cheers rang painfully in your ears as you watched a small circle quickly form around you. anyone that could still see straight had either ran from the fight or pushed forward to get a better view of it, their phones held high and already recording.

“bet that made you feel like a man, huh? forcing yourself on a girl half your size. you piece of fucking shit, i should fucking kill you!”

in all the years you’d known him, you had never seen joost like that before; his voice low and angry as his shouts drowned out the music. he hadn’t waited for him to get back up before throwing another punch, the sharp crunch of his noise breaking making you wince and your eyes water.

you went to step forward, your hands already reaching out to grab joost’s arm when one of his friends pounced. a shriek was ripped out from you when a fist struck joost right across the cheek, knocking him into you hard enough to almost send you both tumbling to the floor. any chance for you to try and intervene again vanished when you were pushed back before you could get close enough, joost quickly shoving you behind him as he swung for the other guy.

a strong pair of arms wrapped your middle and pulled you further back as you cried for them all to stop, keeping you locked against their chest no matter how hard you thrashed. distance was put between you and the fight when you were picked up and half-dragged out the door, joost’s blond hair disappearing from sight amongst the growing crowd around him.

the bitter air of the early morning stole your breath, your chest tight and aching as the cold consumed you. small flakes of snow drifted down from the paleing sky, dusting each rooftop and the old, cracked pavements in a thin layer of white. still, there were a handful of people gathered on the house’s front stairs, clad in various leather and latex, that only stood and watched as you were hauled away from the party.

“get the fuck off me! we’ve gotta go back, we can’t just leave him! stuntje, please!”

your feet only met the floor again once you were next to stunt’s car, safely across the street. even from there, you could hear the childish chanting of ‘fight! fight! fight!’ and the occasional glass break from inside.

“martijn -”

“- stay here; i’m gonna go get him.”

you weren’t allowed to argue, so you just did what you were told. for four minutes you sat waiting in the back of the car with the heaters on full blast and still shivering as you nestled yourself deeper into joost’s jacket. after another minute you saw them heading back your way, their pace fast as they slipped past the last few people that loitered on the steps. in the glow of the streetlights you could just about make out the soft shade of purple that was joost’s eye, and the deep scowl that contorted stuntje’s face.

neither of them spoke as they joined you in the car but for joost, you never really gave him the chance to. his seatbelt hadn’t even clicked into place yet before you were turning away from him, desperate to pretend that he wasn’t there burning holes into the side of your head. if joost knew that you could see him staring from the corner of your eye, he didn’t care. if anything, he probably would’ve hoped that it might have made you look back at him, because then that at least would’ve been something.

but seeing joost storm out of that house with a violet eye and raw knuckles, having just risked everything for you without a second thought, it scared you more than you wanted to admit. he was only supposed to come find you, and bring you back home. you never wanted a fight, never wanted joost to wind up with a black eye over you. so no, you couldn’t look at him — couldn’t even talk to him, either.

except your silent treatment didn't last very long, did it? it couldn’t, because joost wasn’t going to let you get away with it this time. for as long as he had known you, you always had this habit of internalising what you felt and shutting down. it never mattered what it was you were going through, you just wouldn’t talk about it.

this time though, he wasn’t going to let you disappear in on yourself again, and he wasn’t going to let you shut him out, either.

as soon as the car came to a stop, joost was up and already outside your car door. with a sweet smile, gentle hands were pulling you up and slowly helping you onto your feet before you had the chance to protest. there was a part of you that wanted to, now too proud to admit that you still needed his help. already, he had done more than enough, even too much, for you.

still, you didn’t dare to fight it — or him, rather. besides a small goodbye to stuntje, no words were spoken as he slipped an arm under your knees and pulled you up to his chest. it was like that, that he carried you up the three flights of stairs of your building, glancing down at you every so often with soft, worried eyes. it was miraculous how he managed to open your front door with you still in his arms, his very own key to your home dangling from the clip on his jeans.

it wasn’t long before the soft leather of your sofa was dipping underneath your weight, its cushion beneath you feeling cold against the bruised flesh of your thigh. joost left you for only a second, just to switch on a couple of the lamps you had dotted around and to dig out your old first aid kit from the bathroom.

you still weren’t really looking at him, not even as he perched on the edge of your coffee table and carefully took your jaw in his hold. the brush of the alcohol wipes along the small cuts that marked your face stung and made you wince, your nose scrunching up at the pain. a string of quiet apologies followed as joost concentrated on cleaning you up, wiping away each and every smear of blood and smudged makeup.

the longer that you sat there whilst joost devoted all of his time and energy to you, the more teary-eyed you felt yourself becoming again. it felt almost…foreign to feel so loved after everything, like you were still somehow worth saving. there was no way that you could possibly deserve it — nothing you could’ve done to deserve having someone adore you so unconditionally without earning it.

and yet here he was, your joost, doing anything and everything to try and help, and you couldn’t even fucking look at him.

the only thing you could do was cry. the way you clutched your mouth did little to muffle the sounds of your distress and it drew back his attention after he turned away only to throw out all of the dirty, used wipes. it was the guilt that was doing this to you, the guilt of knowing that you were the reason why joost now had a black eye. that joost had risked his whole career by starting that fight, and you had been the one to punish him for it.

a warm hand squeezed your knee as another tucked fallen strands of hair behind your ear. it took a few tries of quietly calling out your name to finally get you to meet his eyes, but eventually you got there. nothing could have prepared you for just how sick he looked, the bags under his eyes seeming considerably darker than before and a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“i’m sorry i did this. i never should’ve gone with him, i know i shouldn’t have because i know that i know better but i still went and i should’ve done something more, i could’ve hit him harder or yelled, and i’m sorry i called you because your eye, that was me, that was my fault and i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i -”

with your face pressed flat against his chest, his sudden embrace almost swallowing you whole, you couldn’t find the rest of your slurred, blubbering words. somehow, at some point, joost manoeuvred you both onto the sofa and with his arms around you, kept you curled up against his side. a few fingers moved up the back of your neck to scratch your scalp as others held onto your hip.

it was the only thing he could think to do to shut you up, to calm you down enough to take big, slow breaths, in and out.

he didn’t have it in him to let you finish that sentence.

delicate reassurances were mumbled into your hair, quiet ‘you’re okay’’s and faint ‘it wasn’t your fault’’s becoming mantras that helped soothe the pain in your chest. you wanted to believe him and knew that you didn’t. you knew that as the deep baritone of his whispers slowly lulled you to sleep, you’d wake up with that pain still very much there.

but joost wasn’t going to stop trying anytime soon, noor was he going anywhere. it was one of the few things you’d actually let him do for you, making himself a home on your sofa whenever you would have one of your episodes. he’d sleep there, eat there, work there. sometimes joost would spend entire weeks of his life in your living room just so that he could know for sure you were still alive and breathing.

he was the only thing offering you the slightest bit of comfort. you could feel his fingers running through your hair as you curled up even further into his side, his voice still low in your ear. it was becoming to struggle just to keep your eyes open, but you knew that he wouldn’t mind.

you could fall asleep just to wake up with that same ache in your heart still there, but joost would still be there too. for now, that was all you needed.

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x f!reader #luvvergirlwrites

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unicyclehippo · 2 days ago

Note

One word prompt for hawkeye/bishova: tense

(Also yay! Excited for you to try to write for them! Love ur writing and also hawkeye 🫶)

ok just a short one while i have my coffee. in the same vague story as regret & stumble

so far, kate’s talked for the whole drive.

it’s not something she’s particularly proud of, okay? it’s just a fact. she does start to think she would make an incredible politician purely on her filibuster flair but the thought passes, a little because she can’t think of anything worse than politics, a little because she starts feeling guilty that her present filibustering isn’t some grand speech in defence of civil liberties but a desperate attempt to fill the car with noise so clint won’t ask her questions.

‘—and that’s obviously where everything started to go wrong, because apparently the bell wasn’t fixed in the tower properly and the arrow doesn’t weight that much—what am i saying, you know how much arrows weigh, and this was just a flute14, they’re like, what three-eighty?’

‘three eighty-five.’

kate turned in the seat to stare at him, mouth agape. she hadn’t seen him turn his hearing aid off but she had just figured, after three hours of this, that he’d managed to tune her out. she didn’t think he was really listening.

oh well. in for an arrow, in for a quiver full.

‘right! so i didn’t think it would bring a tower down. obviously. but it turns out that the weight of the arrow is nothing and it’s actually the force you gotta calculate, which, i should obviously have realised but yknow what they say about hindsight and shooting arrows at bell towers. i guess the bell wasn’t built to be rung because when i used the snapshut head—‘

‘snapshut?’

‘yeah. they have a claw on the front so when you hit something, it clicks the trigger and closes the claw around it.’

clint tilts his head. ‘huh.’

‘anyway, the arrow pulled the rope and the rope pulled the bell and the bell pulled the beam and the beam pulled the top of the tower and everything kinda…collapsed from there.’

if she had to pick when things started going wrong this year, that was probably it. or was it just the latest in a long string of things going wrong? there was an unhappy thought.

‘did you design the snapshut head?’

kate beamed at clint. she was so happy he was her partner—he knew she needed to talk. talk about taking one for the team.

‘no, i saw last years olympics champ using something similar. well, i guess i designed my snapshuts—design feels like a really sophisticated term,’ she confessed. ‘i just kept trying stuff until it worked.’

clint glanced sidelong at her. ‘yeah,’ he said. ‘that’s what designing is.’

‘oh. then yeah.’

he huffed a little laugh and turned his attention back to the road.

it was really pretty. they were still in pennsylvania and the highway ran straight and clear ahead of them. on either side, dense forests crowded in grey and green and on a distant ridge, she could make out rows of looming hemlocks like a fence of arrows.

maybe not arrows, she supposed. just because something was triangular didn’t mean it looked like an arrow.

she leaned her head against the window. it shuddered and jumped under her skull from the tiny bumps in the road and made her teeth buzz.

clint reached carefully back and grabbed his sweater, holding it out to her.

‘what’s this for?’

‘fold it up, use it as a pillow.’ he said it all stern, an order, like it wasn’t the sweetest thing in the world. ‘you’ll get a concussion if your head bangs around like that.’

‘another concussion,’ she pointed out cheerfully. ‘oh. you didn’t know that? i mean, i’m fine.’

‘mhm.’ clint glowered at the road.

kate folded up the soft sweater and tucked it between her head and the window. then, between one blink and the next, she fell asleep.

lucky barked when clint took him out to pee at the next gas station. kate jerked awake with a kick and a snort.

‘shh,’ clint soothed, patting her shoulder. ‘go back to sleep.’

‘you should have woken me up!’ kate insisted for the sixth time. ‘i can’t believe you bought chips, of all things. i mean, salt? what were you thinking? it’s gonna dry us out, parch the lips, we’re gonna be gasping for liquids, clint!’

‘will it stop you from talking?’

‘in the worst case scenario, yes.’ she narrowed her eyes at him and asked, darkly, ‘why?’

he scratched at the stubble on his chin, but not fast enough to hide his smile. ‘just wondering. there’s something blue in the icebox, by the way.’

‘blue?’

kate twisted to check what drinks he bought. it looks like the worlds most off-brand gatorade and she gets why he just said blue. it’s not only the name but also the most prominent and upsetting feature.

‘it’s so blue…’

‘i know.’

‘this can’t be healthy.’

‘can’t be.’

‘…want half?’

clint rolled down his window and poured the dregs of his coffee into the highway gutter, passing the styrofoam cup over.

‘so. you had drinks with yelena?’

kate dug very nonchalantly into the bag of chips. she pulled out a folded chip between her pointer and middle finger.

‘did you ever get told it was bad luck to touch a folded chip with your thumb?’

‘…no.’

‘weird.’ she shoved it in her mouth and chewed obnoxiously loud. maybe he’d take it as a hint.

he didn’t.

‘some protege you turn out to be,’ he teased (she hoped). ‘you couldn’t have waited a week? she only tried to kill me yesterday.’

‘she wasn’t trying very hard,’ kate pointed out. ‘if she wanted either of us dead, we would be dead. like, you saw her fighting, right?’

‘yep.’

‘i’m not bad at fighting, clint! i have won—‘ she totted them up quickly. ‘seventeen trophies! important trophies! i got my black belt at fifteen. and she’s like, wow. so much better.’

clint nodded. his face stayed smooth but kate, half turned in her seat to lean against the window, had a perfect view of his hands curling tight around the steering wheel.

‘yep.’

‘was—‘ kate stopped. shoved another chip in her mouth.

clint’s lips turned up very slightly. ‘you can ask.’

‘are you sure?’

‘yeah.’

‘okay.’

kate thought carefully about how to phrase it. the black widow—the black widow—was a sore subject for clint. hawkeye. for obvious reasons. and with each hour that passed in this rust bucket truck that smelled now of gasoline and potato chips and dog, everything got a little bit more strange. she had known instantly who clint was when he stripped the mask from her face—the hawkeye! her hero! the world’s hero!—and then the week passed like a kidney stone and now he was hawkeye and also nathaniel’s dad and a husband and this guy. who was strange in his own right. like, who went into a gas station and bought the weirdest stuff on purpose? and kate was sitting in his passenger seat, their bows were packed together in the back seat, he had walked her dog. it was a lot. and she didn’t want to fuck it up.

‘was natasha like that?’ she asked quietly, words half vanishing under the putter of the engine so if he wanted to, he could pretend he hadn’t heard.

‘she was better.’ when kate scoffed, he grinned that tight lopsided grin, like he’d half forgotten how to smile. ‘i’m serious. she was the best. once, that meant she was the worst of the worst. and then…’

‘the shot you didn’t take.’

‘yeah.’

‘and she came to your side.’

‘not at first.’ clint opened his mouth. kate threw a chip in and cheered when he caught it between his teeth. ‘it was messy,’ he said through the crunch. ‘she killed some more people, injured more, broke into some facilities.’

‘what?’

‘she was a bad guy, kate.’ clint’s smile faded a touch. ‘yelena is too. just ‘cause she’s out doesn’t mean she’s changed.’

hot words raced up her throat into her mouth like bile; kate bit them back, surprised and a little weirded out by her own intensity. you don’t understand! she wanted to say, which was dumb as hell because of all the people in the world, the black widow’s best friend knew.

kate lowered her eyes to the dashboard. she thought of bell towers and scoldings and her mother’s gentle hand on her chin, looking at her the same way she had at eight years old.

‘i’ll be careful,’ she told him softly.

‘okay.’

clint had been a trooper through the trip, kate could and would readily admit that. she was the worst road trip buddy in the world. school trips relegated to being the teachers buddy could attest to that.

the last hour, kate folded her lips tight and her hands in her lap, only reaching out to stroke lucky’s head until he glared sleepily at her out of his one eye and turned away.

‘you’re being pretty quiet.’

‘are you sure i should come?’ kate blurted.

clint laughed. ‘bit late for that, isn’t it?’

‘no? i mean, the nearest airport is, what, two hours drive? or i could rent a car and drive back. it’s really pretty here, it’d be a nice drive, i wouldn’t mind at all. because christmas is a family thing and i know your kids were really wanting you back—‘

‘you’re coming.’

‘okay.’

clint threw her a few worried looks as the minutes ticked away.

‘she invited you. my wife. they want to meet you.’

‘me?’

‘no,’ he drawled, ‘the other girl archer who saved my life.’

he admitted it! kate very coolly grinned and pumped her fist in a secret little cheer.

‘okay,’ she said again.

she thought it sounded very happy that time, she thought she was very happy that time, but then clint had to sling a question her way—unfair—and she wasn’t so sure.

‘do you want to be there?’ he scratched at his head, above his deafened ear. ‘i didn’t really ask, i guess. did you want to stay in the city?’

kate leaned against the soft sweater and turned her eyes to the highway. the grass plain and the rolling hills that curtained the barton farm from the rest of ohio and the world.

‘nah,’ she said, tone light. ‘are you kidding? and miss out on christmas with the real hawkeye?’

given that she had raised her misgivings like, twelve seconds ago, she deserved his very intense and disbelieving side-eye. but it was sweet that he didn’t press.

cooper, she learned, was like his dad in that he kept most of his thoughts inside his head. he was less like his dad because when kate started rambling, he actually seemed to enjoy it and laughed at all her jokes. he probably got that from his mom, who was the most incredible host. warm and gracious and welcoming from the get go.

nathaniel—nate—was cheeky and bright and goofy and totally enamoured with lucky. he was at that age where he constantly had sticky hands and something on his face and when he laughed more than anything else.

lila was an odd combination of her parents. she looked a lot like her mom, and older than her years in the way kate remembered from high school, wanting to seem older than she was. she was so obviously sharp, clever and pointed and had a ton of questions for kate that started off kind and got way more… harsh wasn’t the right word. protective, maybe. of her dad and his time he had promised them. of herself, when it came to this stranger who had stolen their dad for a long precious week.

‘so, you’re like, his apprentice now or something?’ lila asked when her parents were busy in the kitchen kissing hello and, kate assumed, telling her some of the more important things that had happened.

‘um. something like that.’

‘that’s cool. you’re an archer like him?’

‘yeah, yep.’

‘and you nearly got both of you killed?’

‘lila.’

‘i’m just asking.’

‘not in front of nate,’ laura murmured, with a sweet smile. ‘and maybe not at all, yeah hun?’ she tugged at her daughter’s ponytail lightly, teasing.

‘i don’t mind,’ kate lied brightly, sitting tall and tense on the sofa with the girl. ‘it’s totally fair to ask.’

‘see! she doesn’t mind.’

kate had to look away when laura sent her daughter The Look; her ribs ached, clenching so tight around her chest, and it was weirdly hard to breathe for a second.

‘—ate? kate?’

a soft hand touched her shoulder. kate jumped up from the sofa, jostling laura and her own hot cocoa.

‘hey, sweetie, are you—‘

‘which way to the little girl’s room, sorry? it was a helluva long drive,’ she laughed, and chattered as lila stood at another parental look and guided her through a warren of doors and halls to the guest toilet.

‘sorry for badgering you,’ she said quietly, sharply, but not begrudgingly. ‘i’m just glad he’s home.’

and safe, she didn’t say.

kate smiled down at the girl. ‘i get it,’ and rolled her eyes when lila huffed and strode away. wild. she was usually so good with people, and especially kids. she had it on good authority that she was still just an older kid a lot of the time.

tucking away in the washroom, kate sat and let herself breathe. it smelled of lavender soap and some leafy plant on the windowsill. everything was clean and kitschy and so not home that kate had to curl up tight around her bruised and battered body and press her face into her coat, smell the singed sleeve and remember that yeah, she had fought kingpin and a thousand tracksuit goons yesterday and—and everything else that happened too.

her pocket shivered. more accurately, the phone in her pocket shook with an incoming text.

(yelena), the ID said. kate had changed it pretty fast. not that she was likely to forget.

no message to say you are there safe? how rude.

kate laughed softly.

we got here safe. no thanks to clint

should she have said that? yelena wasn’t on the warpath anymore but would she get it was a joke?

he bought this weird blue drink, she started, and kept talking until clint called her for dinner.

#tagging my stories #prompt fill #bishova #very loosely #hawkeye fic

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lewkwoodnco · 2 days ago

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Okay I’m just so proud of this edit I just havee to talk abt some of the scene choices hehe🙈🙈

Mon, pine - ngl i completely forgot this scene existed until I randomly stumbled upon it while looking for some other screencaps and thank god I did cuz it fits SO WELL??? Lucy’s possessed by Annabel who’s talking abt someone else obviously but just LOOK at Lockwood’s face half of him wants to snap Lucy out of it/make sure she stays safe and the other half is just mesmerised by the sight of her looking at him like that. And the dialogue??? YOU LOVE ME, DONT YOU????? And he so obviously does but can’t say it/ is too scared to and it’s frightening to see lucy like this but he can’t look away he’s drinking in the sight like a man starved 😭 just the juxtaposition of lovkwood’s pining and the cheekily on-the-nose ‘you love me don’t you’ line creates this delicious tension ARGH the writers were sick SICKKK for this

Tue, long - as soon as he first laid eyes on lucy it’s like he can’t help but let his gaze linger over her and even though she’s the candidate being interviewed the way he tries to impress her as he gives her the tour (the basement training area, the ‘high security’ storage room, her room in the attic) it’s like you can tell he’s already desperately hoping that she’ll join as if he’s longing for company like hers

Wed, ache - love is nothing if not pain like other than the obvious physical pain of being in such close proximity to a flare explosion etc bro is HURTING with regret for putting her (and george) in danger just cuz he insisted they take the case and now they’re in so deep and its all his fault but also he just wanted to fix the 62 sheen road fallout keep his agency open (it’s almost like he wants to prove to her that he/lockwood and co. is worth sticking with) but it’s all gone so wrong and he’s just drowningggg in physical and mental anguish only love can hurt/ACHE like this frfr

Thu, sigh - but at the end of the day lockwood is still a 16 ish year old boy who sucks at expressing his innermost feelings and doesn’t know how to deal with jealousy in any way other than being moody about it/suppressing it and this scene is like yea these are kids fighting ghosts night after night but for five minutes they get to be regular angsty teenagers and have the air between them hang heavy with unspoken words and it’s all so dumb and frustrating but also they’re teenagers what ELSE are they going to do HHHHHHH like look at his face!!! bro is befuddled. dumbfounded. bamboozled even. (what do you mean you’re going out with Kipps i thought we’ve been playing house tgt what)

Fri, lament - as funny as this scene is it’s oddly sweet how he’s ranting so openly to Lucy and like the way she tries to reason with him (he probably signed the same NDA we did) and he STILL stomps around throwing a fit aurgghh it’s so adorable just kiss already

Sat, crave - just look at him. bro is down bad for every single part of lucy it’s like he can’t get enough of her, he’s not even hiding it here like look at him watch her like she’s the most precious thing in the world ughhh

Sun, yearn - ooh this scene is like the breaking point of all the accumulated hidden feelings and thoughts between them and he’s messed up so badly atp even lucy is properly pissed (where’s that incorrect quote - my girl is mad at me I am going to KILL myself) but he’s just too paralysed by 16-year-old-boy syndrome to respond to her (tho he finally gets his head on somewhat right in the next scene) so he just stares at her and takes the scolding wondering how things got this bad when all he had done was care and love and yearn for Lucy (can’t you see his heart clawing out of his chest to get to her)

Also I think it’s so hilarious that in the scene in the top gif he’s talking to lucy aka the very person that has him BOOKED AND BUSY with longing 😭😭

a week in the life of London's youngest agency head (insp.)

#in conclusion me and WHO 😭😭😭😭#wowww this got long hehehe sorryy #Lockwood and co #locklyle #sr

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itwasthereaminuteago · 19 hours ago

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|| Perfect Fit ||

Pairing: Huge monster boyfriend x regular female gf

Tags/warnings: choose your own monster! I've left it fairly open description-wise apart from him being generally huge and the massive cock... he can be whoever or whatever you like 😉

Minors DNI, size kink, fairly gentle monster!bf, until things get going? Pet names, praise, begging, massive cock kink, bucketloads of come, creampie, aftercare.

WC 2.2k of pwp.

Reblog if you enjoy! 🖤

I'm talking about that usual trope of your monster boyfriend having a monster-sized cock but that there's just absolutely no way he's gonna fit and it's making you upset.

Even though you both have a multitude of other ways to give each other pleasure, you're so very desperate to make this happen, you're having almost constant daydreams about how utterly full he'd make you feel, your mouth watering and body melting at the mere thought of what would happen when you… and if he... 🫠

"I want to try!" You whine, annoyed that you sound so pathetic but you're so frustrated by his doleful eyes and the way he's shaking his head at your insistent pleas.

"No, sweetheart, we've already been over this. I'd never want to risk hurting you."

"But y-you wouldn't, I know you wouldn't, I can do it, I want to do it. We can try, please just let me try!"

"Is it because I’m not doing enough to satisfy you?" He traces his claws lightly against the side of your face, bringing his huge hand to cup the side of your jaw. His brows are knit together with concern. "You've got to let me know-"

You shake your head emphatically, placing your hands on the vast expanse of his chest. "No you do, of course you do, but I really want this."

"Kitten, just... just let me use my mouth on you, you know I'll make it so good-"

He lets out the tiniest oof as you ineffectually push him back in mild annoyance.

"This is me letting you know my love, you're just not listening to me!" You sigh dramatically, throwing yourself face down on the huge bed you share.

You hear a resigned sigh behind you, and then the tender touch of his hand on the skin of your back, moving downward to give your ass a gentle squeeze. "Well, we're gonna need a lot of lube." He concedes.

You quickly spin around, a huge, bright smile on your face. "I know, I've already been shopping!"

Now that it's about to happen, you're shaking, laid on your back with your knees up and spread wide, sweat dripping from your shuddering body and soaking into the sheets as your handsome monster boyfriend brings you to your third orgasm using one of your biggest cock toys. You've worked your way up gradually but it's still nowhere near the same massive girth of his own. Even so he was extremely insistent on spending plenty of time on preparing you properly. The rippling waves of your latest high are slow to dissipate, but that doesn't mean you aren't anxious about what's to come next.

"M'gonna leave that in there just now, you okay with that sweet girl?" He pushes on the thick base of the soft silicone, making sure it stays seated in your pussy while you're still contracting around it.

"mmhm," you hum, opening your eyes to look up at him. "Feels real nice..."

"Looks real nice." He says, in that familiar low tone that so often marks his arousal.

Your gaze is automatically pulled down his body, and no matter how many times you've seen it before, you're always left mesmerized at the unsheathing of his cock. It fills up and firms steadily, blood pumping to make it heavy and thick, so painfully thick…

He must notice the slightly apprehensive look on your face. “You know we don't have to, you can tap out any time. You know I'd be more than happy just fucking those pretty tits of yours.”

He flashes a grin that breaks the worry, your light laugh turning into a gentle moan as he palms your bare breasts, pinching your nipple between his claws.

“I told you, I want to.” you pout, and he finally grunts in acknowledgement.

“Alright princess, I'll give you what you want.”

You had already made clear you wanted him over you despite his claims that you being on top would give you more control. There was no way you could keep holding yourself up on your thighs above him after the earth shattering orgasms you'd already had, so he'd promised to go as slow as you needed and you fully trusted that he would.

He slowly pulls the dildo out of you, a wet flood of your arousal following as you murmur softly at the sensation of suddenly feeling so empty.

You're looking up at him now as his massive bulk shadows you, opening yourself as much as you're able to let him fit between your thighs. The very tip of his bulbous cock slides slowly between your folds, deep reddish purple in colour, shining as he bathes it in your slick juices eagerly nudging at your entrance.

“You ready, pretty girl?”

Even though your pussy is so engorged and puffy after all the prior stimulation, you're still tiny next to his enormous and angry looking thick-ridged shaft. He’s almost having second thoughts about if he will fit at all, but turns his attention to the bud of your swollen glistening clit, spitting right on it. It's not like you really need it with the way you're soaked with your own arousal and the generous amount of lube he'd used earlier, but your reaction as he starts to rub slow sloppy circles around it makes him sure it was the right decision.

“M’ready- unnh!” You mewl as his hips push forward again and you feel him breaching you.

“That's good, you're doing so good...” he soothes. “just relax.”

You start to pant, moaning louder as he presses in further, you already feel stretched, so full up, you don't know how much more you could possibly take.

“Ohh- oh! Is there much more? It's so big!”

He's not even got past the thickest part of the head yet… but he's not gonna worry you with that.

“Just a little more, take a big deep breath for me sweetheart, you can do it.”

Your tight little cunt flutters so maddeningly around him as he starts to rub your clit faster and firmly. He listens to you breathe in, then, as you exhale, he punches forward, growling as the fat head of his cock finally pops inside you with an obscene squelch. You squeal, writhing uncontrollably beneath him, back bowed up from the bed as your body tries to accept the blunt intrusion. You've never felt so incredibly stuffed and overwhelmed, thinking you've really bitten off more than you can chew, panting so hard, trying your hardest to just relax because you know it'll make it easier but he's just too much, he's too big…

“There we go, that's it baby, just breathe. You're such a good girl, you know that?”

You have to force yourself to gulp in more air, blowing it back out in a slow shuddering breath. You nod even as you whine with the effort, your wide wet eyes blinking up at him in adoration.

“Okay, m’gonna give you a little more now. Nice and slow, hm?”

More?! There's more?? It can't be possible, it feels like he's reached right up inside to your navel already, like there's just not any space left for him to go. Your eyes are starting to sting from holding back tears, more of frustration than of pain. Your hands are clasping and gripping to hold onto the small part of his massive shoulders you're able to reach, and you're aware that you're whimpering constantly now.

You wanted this, you remind yourself, as he reaches for the large bottle of lube and drizzles a generous amount on to where his monster dick disappears into you.

He draws his hips back slightly and then gives another small thrust forward causing you to moan out his name long and loud. It's a lot, but as he gives your body some time to adjust it's also beginning to feel good, your walls clenching repeatedly around his girth.

“Mmn… y’like that, huh?” He husks close to your face. He holds himself so steady with his immense strength above you, it must be difficult for him to reign in his desire and enact such patience, that's he's holding back from just letting fully loose and fucking you hard and fast. The thought drives you wild. A squeak escapes as you feel him twitching inside.

“Sorry baby, can't help it when you're so tight and feel so good like this.”

He leans down towards your chest, eyes glinting and tongue emerging to lick around and over your pebbled nipples. You arch again, this time due to the fact your sensitivity has increased tenfold, the movement dragging his cock so much deeper within you, easily probing against the sweet spot that makes you lose your shit. He's still only halfway in, pushing the backs of your thighs back closer to the bed allowing him to squeeze another fat inch inside.

“Uhhh fu-ck!” your voice breaks as you think you just might explode. He tries another short thrust, more lube squishing out from your stretched hole as he nudges in even further, your nails digging deep into his skin as you whimper with increasing pleasure.

“That’s it princess, almost there…” he grunts through gritted teeth. “so perfect, doing so well.”

He starts slowly moving his hips back and forth, gradually working that massive dick in and out of you, the sensation of fullness making your eyes roll back into your head. You feel the soft weight of his heavy balls against you each time he pounds into your weeping pussy, your mouth hanging open, every forward thrust punching loud desperate sounds from you.

“S-so goood!” You mewl up at him, and he smiles as he leans down to kiss you. As he licks into your mouth he reaches between your joined bodies, a gentle finger brushing over your slippery throbbing pearl yet again.

“Oh- ohhhh!”

He draws tight focussed circles as he fucks you, and before you can even warn him, you're coming hard, crying out as your poor stuffed cunt clenches over and over.

He doesn't stop. Just rolls you both over so you're sitting above him now, thighs spread so wide you think you'll break in two. You're surrendering as you tire, you want him to use you as his own personal little fucktoy.

As if reading your thoughts and feeling your body adapt he starts to fuck you faster, holding your hips, taking your weight in those big hands, bouncing you up and down on his cock. Your cream coats his length every time he withdraws, making slick wet sounds so loud yet you're not embarrassed by them, it only makes your next orgasm more intense, your come dripping down to his sac. Those huge balls bounce up against your ass as he keeps on going, drawing up and tightening as he gets close.

“Such a good girl, you can give me another one, can't you sweetheart? Yeah I know you can…”

Breathing is difficult, nevermind trying to talk, you're only capable of gasping and whining as he toys with your overstimulated clit. Could you even come again? You don't know, your body feels so wrung out, but the thought of being able to have him come inside you for the first time gives you the boost you need to carry on. You slide your hands from where they rest on his stomach up to your breasts, knowing how much he adores watching you play with them. You're clutching and pushing them up, teasing and pulling at your nipples as you moan, eyes locked with his. The way he's looking you can tell that he's almost there, even before you feel the first powerful throb of his cock.

“Fuck-…” his growl reverberates through every nerve of your body. “You ready, baby?”

Pleasepleaseplease you beg, and he hisses through sharply clenched teeth, spearing you on his giant shaft again and again, the thick, raised ridges of it stretching your cunt wide every time it forces its way inside your warmth.

Another twitching pulse within your tight walls has you wailing, the wave of feeling inside you crests and you fall forward, clinging on to him as it seems his cock is swelling even larger still.

Then it happens, your fifth orgasm rips through your entire body like a tsunami, your mouth opening to set free your little uh uh uhhs when you finally feel the hot rush of his seed as he unleashes with a magnificent roar.

It gushes inside forcefully, filling you up in thick spurts until it physically can't anymore. You obviously had experience of his ejaculation before, but this was different, his pulsing cock wasn't showing any signs of stopping, come leaking out in thick, viscous rivulets down your quivering inner thighs.

Instinct drives him to keep it deep inside you, pulling you close to lie flush against his body, hot grunts puffing against your neck as his hips snap up sharply, trying to push it all back inside. When he finally slows his movements and stops, his cock still throbs for a long time after. Mine, he purrs with a possessiveness that makes you feel so loved, snuggling you close and kissing the top of your head as you both wait for it to soften. When it eventually slips free you're on the verge of sleep, woken when you feel the flood of your mixed fluids trickle out of your sensitive core.

“Mm, I knew I could do it.” You murmur, nuzzling into his chest. You're very sore but satisfied, even a little bit proud of your achievement .

He grins, carefully scooping you up, carrying you to the shower where he is amazingly gentle and soft whilst cleaning you up. “You did, sweetheart, you were incredible. Never felt anything as good as when I'm with you.”

When you're done he kisses your sleepy face, on your forehead, your eyelids, and finally, a small kiss on your lips as he gets you warm, dry, and tucked into a cosy clean bed.

"My princess."

#monster!boyfriend x regular girlfriend #monster fucking #monster!bf x regular gf #monster smut #choose your own character #monster x fem!reader

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at-wicks-end · 1 day ago

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backburner ; jw

john wick x reader unrequited love, angst

“How… sweet.” You fail to keep the bitterness from your voice, and John can’t help but stiffen at the sound. He opens his mouth to say what? What could he possibly say to make this better? The man you love is going to marry someone else. You’re not sure there is a bandage big enough to encompass the wound on your heart.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. And you hate it. You hate that he’s so sincere because he must truly love this woman to leave everything behind for her. To leave you behind for her. “I don’t want to risk bringing into this world. You and I know it’s not safe.”

“So you’re leaving all this then.”

He nods solemnly.

Maybe it’s some masochistic part of you that pushes you to ask: “What’s she like?”

For some heartbeats, John says nothing. Just stares down at the near empty glass of whiskey in his hand, the dim light from the atmospheric lighting of the bar making him seem almost soft. In this light, his eyes look almost completely black, and your heart clenches at how beautiful he looks on the last night you’ll ever see him.

“She’s kind,” he says quietly. “Good. Helen’s a photographer, so she has a good eye for what looks good.”

Kind. Good. The words feel bitter. You were kind once. You were good. This world has taken that from you too.

“A photographer,” you repeat, looking down at your own glass. What is it like to be a photographer? Lots of lugging around heavy equipment, you suppose. Lots of weddings, birthday parties… It must be nice, to be surrounded by moments of joy and not death. Could you be a photographer?

Nothing more is said for some time. John has never been a talkative person, but you’d once deluded yourself into thinking that he was a little warmer, a little softer with you. You fancied the idea of silences dripping with contentment and silent companionship. Now, you feel your heart squeeze as you wait for him to tell you more.

He doesn’t. That’s okay. You’ve always been the one to bridge the distance between the two of you anyway. “When’s the, uh, task?” You manage to force out, looking at the wooden tabletop intently. You memorize the grooves, the marks, the stains.

“Tomorrow night.”

Something lodges itself in your throat. “I see.”

He murmurs your name before pausing, seemingly trying to find the words. “I hope you find happiness, too. You deserve it.”

“And what if that happiness is you?”

He looks at you sadly. “I’m sorry.”

John had told you once that he wanted to leave. Whispered it into your ear as you lay on top of the covers, his skin against yours. With his chest pressed to your back, you could feel his heart beat. You slept that night dreaming of what a life with him could be like outside of the shadows. You dreamt of the sun on your skin and his eyes molten brown in the sunlight and your heart full. You would have left it all for him, if he asked.

You wonder if Helen had to ask him that.

(You don’t think she did. She is not selfish as you are, always sinking your claws into the very things you were desperate to keep. No, John would offer up the world to her without her asking. You realize now that that is the way John loves—all-consuming and with complete devotion. Not scraps, not confined to nightly trysts, not hidden.)

(He has never loved you.)

John calls out to you softly, your name sounding almost sweet on his tongue. You want to remember this: the sound of his baritone voice, barely audible through the background noise. The light shining on just the side of his face. His eyes on yours, always searching, always warm.

“Goodbye,” he says. There's a finality to it.

You want to cry. You want to beg. Instead, you force a smile on your lips. John has always wanted freedom more than he has ever wanted you. “Goodbye, John.”

#john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick #keanu reeves #john wick angst

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eddiazx · 4 hours ago

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benefit part 2 - evan buckley x reader

part 1 here!

Buck wakes up with his nose pressed against your hair. You’ve slept at Buck’s multiple times, even shared beds once or twice, but he never realized just how clingy you are in your sleep. Half your body is on top of his: your head is tucked underneath his chin, your arm is splayed out over his bare torso, and your right leg is hooked over his left thigh, knee brushing up against his morning wood.

Buck likes this. The domesticity, the smell of you, your warmth; Buck could get used to waking up this way all the time.

Except, he thinks soberly, that’s not what the two of you had agreed on. This was supposed to be just sex. But Buck has come to the belated realization that it could never be just anything with you.

“Buck? You awake yet?”, Eddie’s voice comes ringing through the loft from his front door. Buck’s eyes widen; he had completely forgotten that he made plans to get breakfast with him that morning. He looks at you, who had woken up to the sound. With an impressive quickness, you roll off and drop down soundlessly to hide under the bed in all your naked glory. Buck would have busted out laughing if he wasn’t so scared that Eddie was going to catch the two of you together. Neither of you would hear the end of it if the rest of the team found out about your little arrangement.

Eddie makes his way up the loft stairs and gives Buck an unimpressed look over at his sleepy, shirtless form. Buck had had the sense to throw the covers over his legs to avoid flashing Eddie.

“Hey Eds”, Buck smiles weakly.

“Morning, sleeping beauty. You able to get ready in 5, at least? I’m craving that breakfast burrito from Joe’s.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Just…go watch TV and I’ll be ready in a bit.” Buck says, desperately hoping Eddie doesn’t look too closely at the fact that your bra was on the floor in the corner of the room.

Eddie nods, before saying, “Maybe we can text Y/N if she wants to join us too.”

Buck lets out a startled cough at your name, but Eddie already has his back to him, walking down the stairs. A few moments pass until Buck hears the sounds of Brooklyn 99 playing downstairs.

Buck leans over and peers down at you. You have an amused smile on your face, but Buck can’t help but mouth, “you okay?”

You nod, and give him a thumbs up. You gesture at your phone, which Buck hands over to you. He watches as you open up your notes app and type out 'go grab breakfast, I’ll let myself out and lock the door' before showing him the text.

Buck nods and walks to the bathroom, all the while wondering what the heck he got himself into.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Eddie is talking about a project Chris has for his history class while chewing on his burrito. Buck is trying really hard to pay attention, but his brain keeps providing him with unhelpful flashes of last night. He thinks he might be hallucinating, because he can even picture you sitting down in front of him.

Wait, that’s not a hallucination, you were actually here.

“Hi guys”, you smile, swiping a potato off of Eddie’s plate and popping it into your mouth, eyes sparkly and beautiful as usual. Buck is again met with a memory of last night, when you put something of his in your mouth.

Buck shakes his head, as if he can physically clear his mind from the memory. “Uh, what’re you doing here?”

“I knew you would forget so I sent her a text to join us while you were getting ready.” Eddie responds for you.

"Right, yeah." Buck nods quickly.

Eddie and you exchange glances. Buck was acting weird, weirder than normal.

While you order and promptly delve into a conversation with Eddie, Buck considers moving to another firehouse, one where he didn't have to see and work with his best friend that he was hopelessly in love with.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

"Hen, can I talk to you?", Buck stammers, when they're the only two seated at the firehouse dinner table one evening.

"Sure, what's up?" Hen asks, closing the textbook she was reading.

"I... I think I have feelings for Y/N." Buck admits.

Hen continues to stare at Buck expectantly, not a single difference showing in her face after Buck's admission. "Wait, that's it? That's not news to anybody, Buck."

Buck blinks at Hen. "What?"

"Buck, you've been gone for her since she started at the 118. You've had permanent heart eyes for that girl."

"No... we're friends! Best friends!"

Hen shoots Buck a patient look. "Chim and I are best friends, Buck. You and Y/N are in a different category entirely."

"Okay, fine, whatever. It's bad, Hen. We started sleeping with each other last week and -"

"What?!"

"She's so smart and beautiful Hen, and she makes the hottest sounds when-"

"Okay, ew."

"But she doesn't want to be in a relationship and I don't know how to act around her now that I know I have feelings for her and-"

"Alright Buck, breathe." Hen motions for Buck to inhale and exhale with her hands. Hen seems thoughtful for a second, before she asks, "how do you know she doesn't want to be in a relationship?"

"I don't think a relationship was what she had in mind. She suggested we have sex casually; that it wouldn't be weird 'cause we're friends."

"That... was a horrible idea."

Buck groans and puts his head in his hands. "Well, I know that now!"

Hen smiles softly, prying Buck's hands away to hold onto them. "Buck, we all knew that you were in love with her, but she looks at you the same way. I think you guys should talk to each other. You guys might be on the same page."

Buck looks at Hen's earnest, honest face. He wasn't entirely convinced, but he knows that he couldn't keep avoiding you or clamming up the way he did at breakfast. He needed to come clean.

And then promptly move.

#911 x reader #911 x you #911 imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley smut #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #evan buckley fic #buck x reader #evan buckley x y/n

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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 2 hours ago

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𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖

Warning: Angst/mention of death/Blood/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"Would you like to see Han and Felix?" Hyunjin asked softly, his voice gentle as she rested against his chest. She had just gone through an intense session of cleaning her wounds, and the exhaustion was evident on her face. Her omega side, still unsettled, wasn’t allowing her to heal as quickly as she would have liked.

"C-can I see Han? I’m not sure about Felix," she murmured, glancing up at him, her eyes a little tired and distant. Hyunjin’s hands were slowly running through her hair, his touch tender and soothing.

"Why not Felix?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion as he studied her face. The uncertainty in her voice had him puzzled.

"I’m not ready to see him... just know that," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze. Her voice held a firmness, but it was clear there was more to the situation that she wasn’t ready to share.

Hyunjin felt a small shift in her scent—although it still carried that faint offness, it grew even more sour, tinged with something he couldn’t quite place.

"Alright, we don’t have to talk about it," he said softly, understanding that pressing her wasn’t going to help. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, the warmth of his lips offering a small comfort. He definitely knew the reason behind her reluctance—it was the pregnancy. He could piece it together now, the signs, the subtle shifts in her behavior. She was still processing it all, and he knew it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss just yet.

He kissed her forehead again, then slid his hand down to her lower back, rubbing soothing circles against her skin. His movements were slow and calming, trying to ease the tension in her body as she lay against him. He could feel her drifting, her body growing heavier with sleep.

"Rest now," he whispered softly. "I’ll be here when you wake up." And with that, he continued to gently caress her back, waiting patiently for her to fall into a peaceful slumber.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"How is she doing?"

"She's gone back to sleep, Hyung," Hyunjin replied, his voice quiet as he closed Y/N's bedroom door behind him. The soft click of the door echoed in the stillness, but it did little to ease the heavy tension hanging in the air.

"Has she asked for anyone?" Leeknow’s voice trembled slightly, his posture stiff as he glanced anxiously at Hyunjin. His eyes were still a dull gray, and his concern was written all over his face. He hadn’t even tried to calm his own alpha down, knowing it would be pointless. The stress was too much, even for him.

"No, she asked for Han," Hyunjin sighed, rubbing his temples as they walked down the corridor, hand in hand. "Her wounds are taking a long time to heal. That's my worry," he continued, his tone weary and filled with concern.

"Do we need to bring one of the Umma's from the village?" Leeknow asked, looking up at the beta with desperation in his eyes. While Hyunjin was known as the best healer in the pack, the village grandmothers had been the ones tending to their kind for generations—long before Chan had taken over. They were old now, retired from their duties, but Leeknow would do whatever it took. If it meant tracking them down, he'd do it without hesitation.

"No, it’s okay, love," Hyunjin answered, giving Leeknow a soft look. "I can handle it. I just need to go through the ancestral scrolls and find something stronger." He knew that his own abilities had limits, but he was determined to make it work.

"This is serious, Hyunjin," Leeknow’s voice softened, his expression solemn. "Werewolves don't lose pups. If you need help..." He trailed off, his eyes searching Hyunjin's face, trying to gauge the weight of the situation.

For centuries, werewolves were known to have the strongest blood. Miscarriages and abortions were unheard of—something they all took for granted. This was a new, terrifying reality for Hyunjin. He’d never faced something like this before.

"Leeknow, I said it’s okay," Hyunjin snapped, his voice suddenly sharp. "Don’t question my abilities." He growled, stepping back from his alpha, frustration and fear bubbling beneath the surface.

"Hey, watch it," Leeknow’s voice darkened, a quiet warning. No one in the pack—especially not a beta—ever stepped up to him like that. Hyunjin's lip quivered at the reprimand, and finally, he broke.

"I’m sorry, Hyung," Hyunjin whispered, his shoulders sagging. "This is just so messed up. She's broken, completely... and she's slowly rejecting our bond. If she completely rejects us... we could—"

"No," Leeknow interrupted sharply, pulling Hyunjin into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around him, trying to offer comfort. They sank down onto the bed together, Leeknow gently massaging Hyunjin’s scalp as they sat in silence. "Don't say that," he whispered, his voice cracking with fear. "We just need to find a way to get Chan in there without her... without her freaking out."

"She won’t allow it, she doesn't even want to see Felix because of the pup," Hyunjin said, his voice heavy with defeat. "Her omega is already convinced we did nothing to protect her. Don’t you feel it, babe?" He looked up at Leeknow, his eyes filled with sorrow. The burn in their marks was unmistakable—the sign that one of them was suffering deeply. In this case, it was Y/N.

"I know," Leeknow replied, his voice calm but tinged with sadness. "We’ll be okay, Hyunjin. We just need to figure out a way to keep Felix away for now." He wiped a stray tear from his cheek, trying to stay strong for both of them.

Hyunjin nodded, his hand absentmindedly rubbing the new tattoo on his arm—a symbol of the new life entering their pack. "I don’t know how she’ll handle seeing him. And he can’t seem to stop begging to see her," he said quietly. "I’m second in command, but right now, it feels like I’m failing," Leeknow sighed.

"We’re in this together," Hyunjin reassured him softly. "We just need to distract him—take him down to the streams or the village to play with the kids, or get him to do some charity work. Anything to keep him occupied."

"Yeah," Leeknow agreed, his voice low. "Right now, he's out shopping for the baby with I.N." He let out a small sigh. "At least he’s not here making things worse."

A heavy silence fell between them, thick with unspoken fears. They were still going to be dads, even though they had just lost one of their pups. The harsh reality was settling in—life had to move on, whether they were ready or not.

"Are Chan and Changbin Hyung back?" Hyunjin asked, trying to focus on something else, anything else.

"No," Leeknow replied. "They went with the hyungs to track and hunt the rogues. They told me to stay and watch over everything." So that was where Chan and Changbin had disappeared to—off with the elders, tracking rogues in the forest.

"Alright," Hyunjin said, standing up and stretching. "I’m going to go check on her again. If you find Han, tell him to come, but only if he's strong enough." Hyunjin let go of Leeknow's hand slowly, his fingers lingering for a moment.

"Okay," Leeknow said, his voice firm, though still quiet. "Be strong for me, okay? I’m just down the stairs if you need me." He gave Hyunjin a final look, his aura shifting to something darker, more protective.

"Okay, Hyung. I love you."

"I love you too," Leeknow replied, his voice soft but steady.

When Leeknow finally found Han, he was in the kitchen with Seungmin, both of them busy preparing food for their mates. The smell of freshly cooked dishes filled the room, but Leeknow wasn’t focused on that. He had something important to say.

"Hey, Hannie?" Leeknow called out, his voice soft but urgent.

Han immediately looked up, his large eyes filled with hope and concern.

"Yes, Hyung, is she okay? Does she need anything? Do you need anything?" Han stopped what he was doing, his full attention now on Leeknow, worry evident in his voice.

Leeknow paused for a moment before responding, his own heart heavy with the weight of what needed to be done.

"Babe, I think it's time for you to go try talking to her," Leeknow informed him gently but firmly.

Han's eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head slightly as panic started to creep in. "Are you sure? Is it not too early? What if she panics? What if I make it worse?" His hands were shaking, his chest pounding with nerves, and he felt the pull of his omega instincts—loud and demanding.

Go. Go. Omega needs us. Mate needs us. Now.

Han's eyes flickered gold, his omega taking control, the familiar surge of instinct filling his veins.

"She needs you, Han. She needs an omega by her side," Leeknow said, his voice calm but filled with quiet conviction. "I believe in you."

Han didn’t hesitate any longer. His omega instincts were too strong, and his heart ached knowing Y/N needed him. He quickly gathered his thoughts and began to pack away the food, giving Seungmin a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving for upstairs.

The walk to her door felt like an eternity. His mind raced, unsure of what to say or do. He grabbed anything he could find—clothes from different rooms—knowing he needed to build a nest for her. He was determined to make her feel safe, to make her feel loved.

When Han finally reached the door, the room was dark, the only light coming from a dimly lit lamp on the nightstand. Y/N was in the center of the bed, Hyunjin holding her close, his hand gently stroking her hair. Han stood there for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before Hyunjin looked up at him and nodded, signaling for him to come closer.

Y/N stirred as she felt a new presence in the room. Her senses were sharp, and as soon as she caught the new scent—one that was familiar and comforting—her heart skipped. She didn’t know what to expect. The fear of rejection still clung to her. She was certain that they might hate her now, that they might blame her.

When her golden eyes met Han’s, all her worries seemed to collapse. Without thinking, she bolted upright, her hands reaching out toward him. The moment their eyes met, her tears began to fall freely, her body shaking with the weight of her emotions.

"Hannie," she sobbed, her voice breaking as she reached for him. "Please... I don’t know if you’re angry at me... Please don’t hate me."

Han’s heart shattered at the sight of her, her vulnerability hitting him harder than he expected. He wasted no time. Without a second thought, he crawled into the bed beside her, throwing the clothes he had gathered into Hyunjin’s hands. He wrapped his arms around her, scenting her gently but urgently. He wanted to erase any trace of the pain and trauma still clinging to her scent, to make her feel safe and loved again.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse as she clung to him, desperately needing his presence, his comfort.

"Shhh," Han murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "There’s no reason for you to apologize. This is not your fault." He cupped her face gently, staring deep into her eyes, his own eyes filled with sorrow. "I’m so sorry this happened to you," he whispered, placing a tender kiss on her forearm. All she could do was cry. She had missed him so much.

"I love you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words was clear.

"I love you too," Han replied, his voice firm and full of resolve. "Forever, okay? I’m never letting you out of my sight. Whoever did this to you... I hope Chan Hyung rips their head off and keeps it as a trophy."

Y/N couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath, her scent slightly souring as she pulled him closer. "I’m okay now, Han. I promise," she whispered, trying to convince herself as much as him. "As long as I’m back home, that’s all that matters now."

Han’s heart twisted with guilt. She wasn’t angry at them, wasn’t holding any of this against them. She was trying so hard to stay strong, even though it was clear that she was breaking inside. He just couldn’t understand why she wasn’t angry with them for not protecting her, for not doing more. But right now, none of that mattered. He just wanted to hold her. He just wanted her to feel safe.

He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair, allowing himself to just feel her. "I’m not going anywhere, Y/N," he whispered.

"I'm sitting right in the corner if you need me," Hyunjin said softly, his voice laced with concern as he sat quietly by the door.

Y/N sniffled, her eyes swollen from the tears she had cried. She looked up at him, her face twisted with a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability. "Hyunjinnie, go get some real rest," she urged, her voice gentle but firm. "Eat something, take a hot shower, and nap. I promise, I’m right here with Han."

Hyunjin shook his head, his eyes soft but unwavering. "Y/N, I told you I wouldn’t leave."

She sighed, her gaze softening as she reached for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You’re not leaving," she assured him, her voice growing steadier. "I’m right here with Han. You’ve been working nonstop, looking after everyone. Please, take care of yourself; I promise nothing will happen."

Hyunjin stood still for a moment, taken aback by how calm and composed she sounded now. It gave him a flicker of hope, but the worry still gnawed at him. He felt the weight of everything, the endless worry and exhaustion, but hearing Y/N speak so firmly made him feel a bit more confident in leaving her alone for a while. Still, he hesitated.

"Okay... I’ll be back in a bit," Hyunjin finally said, his voice a bit strained. "Han, if anything happens, call me." His eyes lingered on Y/N one last time before he leaned down to kiss both of them on the forehead.

"I will, trust me, Hyung," Han reassured, his voice calm but filled with an undercurrent of concern. Hyunjin gave one last glance to the pair, the tension in his chest easing slightly. As he exited the room, he felt a small sense of relief knowing Y/N was opening up to Han. That was a step in the right direction.

Once the door clicked shut behind him, Han let out a slow breath, turning back to Y/N. His voice softened, almost a whisper, as he gazed down at her. "Baby," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "How come I can't feel you in the bond anymore?" The question had been haunting him for hours, and now it was out in the open.

Y/N’s eyes flickered, her breath hitching as she looked up at him. The bond between them had been a silent connection, one that had always been there, pulsing with warmth and reassurance. But now... it was nothing but a cold, distant feeling.

"I don't want you to feel my pain," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Felix is pregnant... That would put a strain on him, and I just can't handle the alphas right now. I don't want to deal with all of it." She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself composed, but the ache in her chest was impossible to ignore.

Han’s heart ached as he gently ran his fingers through her hair, his touch soft and soothing. "Oh, but you know that Chan and the alphas never meant to hurt you," he said quietly. "They’ve been beating themselves up over it, not forgiving themselves for what happened. They’ve been looking for you nonstop, Y/N."

"I don’t want to talk about it," she whispered, shaking her head, her body tense against him. "Haven’t I been through enough?" Her voice trembled as she nuzzled her face into his collarbone, seeking solace in his scent.

Han paused, the weight of her words sinking in. "Yes, you have," he said softly, his voice filled with guilt. "I’m sorry." He held her close, his heart heavy with the knowledge that she was still carrying the weight of everything that had happened. "But you’ll have to face Felix eventually," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "He’s been really worried about you."

Y/N stiffened at the mention of Felix, her hands instinctively moving to her stomach. The emptiness that had settled in her chest the moment they lost their pup seemed to fill her again, like an overwhelming wave of grief. "I’m just not ready," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can’t bear to see him carrying our pup."

Han’s heart clenched painfully at her words. "Our pup," he corrected softly, as though trying to remind her, to ground her in the reality that they still had a future, that they still had each other. "Don’t forget... you’re still the mother of that baby." The words felt heavy, but they needed to be said.

Y/N shuddered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks as she turned her face away from him. "Han, please... enough," she pleaded, her voice trembling with the weight of it all. "I can’t take it."

"Shhh," Han whispered, pulling her closer into his embrace. His heart was breaking at the sight of her distress, and guilt gnawed at him for bringing it all up. "It’s okay, get some rest." He gently rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know I’ve made it worse."

The guilt in his chest was suffocating, and his omega instincts were furious at him for making her cry, for causing her even more pain.

"Please... be patient with me," she murmured, her voice barely audible now as she drifted into a fitful sleep, the exhaustion from everything weighing her down.

Han stayed still, watching her with pained eyes, his hand resting gently on her back. As she slowly drifted off, he kissed her forehead softly, his heart breaking in his chest. "I’m so sorry," he whispered to her, his voice full of love and regret. "I’ll be here. Always."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"Where's Han?" was the first question I.N asked when they all sat down for dinner. His eyes quickly scanned the room, but the empty seat beside him didn’t go unnoticed.

"He's upstairs with Y/n," Hyunjin answered, clearing his throat, trying to keep his tone casual.

"He's with Y/n?" Felix perked up immediately, his eyes widening in surprise. "How come? Did she ask for me?" His voice was hopeful, almost eager, but it was clear he didn’t fully understand the situation.

Hyunjin glanced over at Lee Know, seeking some help in explaining the situation. Lee Know, sensing the tension, stepped in.

"S-she… uh, right now we just don’t want to overwhelm her, so we sent Han in to check on her," Hyunjin said, his voice faltering slightly. He couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of guilt in his chest for lying, even if it was to keep things calm.

"Oh..." Felix frowned, his shoulders slumping. "Can I go in next?" he asked, his voice filled with concern, his food now completely forgotten. The worry in his tone was impossible to ignore.

"How about we finish dinner first?" Lee Know interjected smoothly, "Then we’ll see if she’s awake."

Felix nodded reluctantly, but let out a sigh of frustration. "Okay, that's fine. I just really hope she’s okay," he muttered, looking down at his untouched plate.

"How was shopping?" Hyunjin asked, eager to change the subject and distract everyone from the tension surrounding Y/n.

"It was okay," Felix replied, though he seemed distracted. "I just wish you guys could’ve come. I wonder when Chan and Changbin-hyung will be back," he pouted, poking at his food absentmindedly.

"Eat, babe, you haven’t been eating," I.N scolded softly, noticing how little Felix had touched his meal. Felix let out a tiny whimper, not expecting to be called out.

"I’m not hungry…" Felix mumbled, his gaze shifting from his food to his mates.

"Eat," Seungmin teased, his voice light but firm. "I worked hard on this."

Felix couldn’t help but smile, the teasing tone breaking through his mood. "Okay, for you, I will," he replied, taking a small bite of his food, though his mind was clearly still elsewhere.

The room went silent again as everyone fell into their own thoughts, the tension still lingering like an unspoken weight.

Suddenly, Lee Know’s posture stiffened, and his chopsticks clattered to the table as he stood up abruptly. His instincts were on high alert as he felt the bond feel heavy. His alpha was urging him to go outside.

Someone was on their territory.

"They’re home," he said, his voice sharp with urgency.

Without waiting for anyone else, he bolted for the door, his footsteps echoing through the house.

"Hyung wait up!" Hyunjin was right behind him, and the rest of the group slowly stood up, following in a mix of confusion and concern.

When Lee Know reached the driveway, his eyes went wide. He saw Chan and Changbin coming down the path, both of them covered in blood, their faces exhausted and drained. Their clothes were torn, and it was clear they had just been through something rough.

"What the hell?" Lee Know gasped, rushing to support Chan, while Hyunjin quickly stepped in to help Changbin.

"What happened?" Hyunjin asked, his voice tight with worry, his hand resting on Changbin's shoulder to steady him.

Chan gave a weary glance at his mates, blood dripping from a cut on his arm, but his lips remained pressed into a thin line as if he wasn’t sure whether to explain or keep quiet. The silence between them only deepened the worry growing in the others.

Lee Know glanced at Hyunjin, his expression grim. "We need to get them inside," he muttered, helping Chan to steady himself as they slowly made their way inside. The rest of the group followed behind, trying to make sense of the situation but knowing it would have to wait until later.

"we killed them."

well...fuck.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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