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lovscb97 · 6 months ago

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tags: nerd!chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, angst angst angst, mentions of jealousy and self doubt, inner turmoil on y/n’s side (forgive my girl she’s trying her best), mentions of other idols (enhypen, aespa, stayc, etc), alcohol usage, more angst…, slight inclusion of depressive feelings and thoughts, confrontation, arguments, confessions, kissing, fluff, brief grinding/dry humping, oral (m. receiving), brief throat fucking, car sex, mentions of virginity loss, unprotected sex (plz don’t i beg), creampie, just sweet lovemaking, use of nicknames (baby, channie, pretty girl, etc), chan being a sweetheart (when is he not), etc

wc: 15.76k

add. notes: it is finally here!!! the long awaited pt. 2 of nerd!chan!!! thank u guys so much once more for all the love u gave to the first part i did Not expect it to gain that much traction to the point u guys wanted me to expand on the universe of it but i am grateful nonetheless <3 i’m also very sorry it took so long i just could not bring myself to write the whole thing in one sitting as it is decently long so thank u sm for waiting as well.. this fic is honestly my baby n while it was very frustrating to work on at times, i hope u all enjoy it n will give it lots of love for me :]

nerd!chan pt. 1 / nerd!chan headcannons / drabble #1

. . .

it’s been a few days since you last saw chan after your “encounter” in the locker room. granted how that might be primarily because you’ve been avoiding him like the plague ever since, but you suppose he also hasn’t done much to try and meet you. you’re not even sure why you’re doing this, and if you’re being honest, some part of it leaves a sense of dread lingering at the back of your mind, your thoughts swirling with what if’s that consist of wondering if he’s finally had enough after the way you walked out on him the previous time you guys were, err.. entangled, to say the least. but, you know; you know you’re not at liberty to feel this way, not when you’re the one who’s imposed these rules on yourself and whatever means of a relationship you’ve both got going on. it’s not your right to police how chan acts around you after you constantly push him away. you think it probably never was to begin with.

regardless of the consequences that you’ve reaped, you decided to forego the situation you’re stuck in and throw yourself into the one solution that always seems to find you when you’re rock bottom in the barrel— alcohol. your cheer girls had tried dragging you out once more to another party thrown by some guy called jake, and initially you’d declined, far too stuck in your own negativity to even consider going out and letting loose at this point, but karina insisted on you tagging along, practically yanking you to you guys’ shared dorm room and dolling you up in the cutest outfit possible that had even your low spirits lifting.

that is, until now.

you’d both arrived to the occasion half an hour prior to the incident, your friend basically pulling you in behind her and forcing you to socialise with people she knew even if all you contributed to the discussion was a small smile and greeting. however, at some point, you lose sight of her. it doesn’t alarm you much considering karina goes around on her own to do her thing a lot, so assuming she must be busy chatting it up with some guy, you shrug and make your way towards the kitchen to fix yourself a drink. and it’s when you’re in the middle of tossing back the red solo cup filled with bitter liquid and letting it burn as it goes down your throat, wincing despite the tinge of sweetness to it when it happens, no less when you see it—

chan.

but, not just chan, no no.

chan with another girl.

it’s immediate the way your hand which is gripping the beverage in it tightens on instinct, and you feel a surge of emotion wash over you that you can’t identify, or rather you don’t want to identify it. arrays of questions swirl in your mind at the sight in front of you, ranging from ‘what is he doing here after claiming he hates parties?’ to ‘did they come together?’. the last of your queries almost makes you want to throw up, the plausibility that chan was invited here by another woman leaving bile forming at the back of your throat. still, you pause momentarily to consider the possibility that this is a mere coincidence, that you’re just misunderstanding the scene playing out in front of you and that this is all a big joke and chan is going to turn around to leave at any point now.

but, then your eyes land on the way she caresses his arm, batting her eyelashes up at him and watching the way her actions cause his ears to tint red, the very same ears you’ve been responsible for making blush every occasion that you find yourselves together. and suddenly, it’s like everything in your world is spinning. the floor seems to be moving, the music fading out and everyone passing around becomes a blur, because your only focus is on chan.

your chan. your chan who isn’t yours.

it’s like he senses you looking at him too, because he stops mid-sentence out of the blue and turns his head in your direction, leaving your gazes to lock with each other’s. it has his eyes widening, and you don’t know whether that’s from simply seeing you or seeing the fact that you’re standing in the middle of the kitchen alone with trembling hands you hadn’t even noticed were shaking. you try so desperately to look away, to avert your stare from his brown orbs that seem to be swirling with something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it doesn’t work. he’s so.. captivating, dressed in casual clothes and his signature glasses that remain perched on the tip of his nose, the same nose you’ve kissed so many times in your heated state of affairs. you’ve always known chan is beautiful, though you’ve never admitted it, but something about today solidifies it in your mind even more, makes him look ever so mesmerising, ever so alluring, and ever so.. distant.

you feel like someone has dumped a cold bucket of water on top of your head when the last word resonates in your mind, and you somehow rip your eyes off of the boy standing across the room to avoid impulsively doing something you might regret, instead opting to go look for your friends. a cacophony of taunts torment your brain as you busy yourself in the futile task, varying from insults thrown against you for being so stupid to think this could ever work out to questions about why you’re doing this even if you don’t know the response to them, or rather you do but don’t want to answer them. you don’t know whether chan is still looking at or for you, and some sick, twisted part of you wishes he is, wishes that he’s so wrecked by the idea that he’s hurt you even though you have no right to feel that way.

allowing yourself one last glance to where he was previously situated to satisfy the lingering emotions inside, you turn around, confused when you don’t find him there until a loud voice calls out for him throughout the booming of the music in the room, making your head snap in its direction. it belongs to who you presume is his friend, changbin or whatever you recall from a study session turned to a late night conversation chan had initiated to get to know you better. he’s yelling something incoherent that you can’t make out through the noise levels of the house, and you’re about to shake your head and resume your previous activity when you notice chan being dragged onto the dance floor, no less by the girl who you’d found talking to him.

your heart instantly sinks into your chest at the picture in front of you, burning against your ribcage as the pounding in your head increases by the minute. chan’s smile is radiant, spread wide across his face as he tries to awkwardly mimic the gestures being made by everyone around him. if you were in a different predicament, you would’ve found it endearing regardless of whether you would’ve let yourself relish in that realisation or not internally, but right now, all you can focus on is the fact that it’s not you. it’s not you who’s making him laugh so bright, it’s not you who’s dragging your hands across his to place them on your waist, and it’s not you who’s captivated his attention in the moment, even if you so desperately wish it was.

“y/n?”

a voice drags you out of your mind, and you shake your head to find karina looking at you in worry, her hand coming up to gently place itself on your shoulder. she questions if you’re okay a second later, and you muster up a smile the best you can and nod, despite the churning in your stomach only growing worse at the existence of what you’d just witnessed a few meters away from you. “what’s up?” you decide to ask your friend instead, sensing the way she doesn’t seem to buy your response reassuring her you’re fine, but even so, she decides not to push you, instead pursing her lips and pointing her thumb behind her.

“heeseung and his friends are going to play a round of beer pong. wanna join them?” the last thing you want to do is indulge with other people, instead wishing you were cooped up under your blanket to wallow in your self misery all alone, but the way karina looks back at you with distress in her eyes, her pretty face contorted in concern for you only pushes you to put up a front, not wanting to alarm her any further. “yeah, let’s go. i wanna get wasted.” you grin with everything in you, and it seems to be enough with the way your friend beams back at you, taking your hand in hers before whisking you away to wherever the game is taking place. you still cast one last glance back behind your shoulder before she drags you away though, hoping to catch sight of chan once more, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

you think maybe that’s best for now.

. . .

it’s one in the afternoon when you wake up the next day, a dull throbbing present in your head as you clutch it with one hand, groggy eyes attempting to adjust to the light streaming through the barely drawn curtains of your dorm room. you slowly sit up and lean back against the pillow underneath that’s probably caught remnants of your makeup on it after last night, especially considering the fact that you hadn’t even bothered taking off the outfit you wore yesterday before crashing out in bed. giving yourself some time to get used to your every day surroundings, you take a peek over to the other side, noticing karina’s bed to be empty. she’d probably gone for classes, you think to yourself, cursing when you realise you had most definitely missed your own.

grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you unlock it, ready to shoot a text to your friends asking for any notes they’d taken in the lecture, only to find the messaging app already open. you scroll through your group chats in confusion, flicking through the several photos or videos people had taken and shared in hopes of remembering why you’d even left off on this. it wasn’t like you’d sent any embarrassing messages in them, the only evidence of your own responses being from two days ago. you try rack your brain for the last possible memory of last night, recalling yourself stumbling through the door and into bed, drinking with sieun and sunghoon during the game before that, and then opening your phone to record drunken voice notes to send to—

oh fuck.

“no, no, no, no, no, please.” you mumble to yourself in panic, eyes widening with horror as you frantically swipe out of the group chat threads and check your last sent texts. you flick furiously through the notifications in your phone, trying to find the one chat you’re looking for until the name you’re searching pops up. you close your eyes, covering your screen to try and calm down your nerves, praying to whatever entity is up there that your memory is mistaken and that you indeed did not do what you think you did. after a short minute, you take a deep breath, cracking your vision open as your fingers twitch. you hesitantly move your thumb that’s blocking your desired end goal out of the way to take a look at last, and—

“shit!” you swear with a yell, tossing your phone aside in favour of cupping your face in your hands and screaming into them out of frustration. you hadn’t even bothered to listen to the voice notes knowing they’d just consist of spewed gibberish the same as the texts, and ultimately what makes this entire ordeal all the more worse is chan’s lack of a reply. rather, he’d left you on seen, the realisation of it dawning on you as you flop back in bed and roll to the side to curl yourself up into a ball as if it’d provide some sort of comfort, mindless thoughts rushing into your brain at the very same.

what does chan think of you now? what did he think of you when he got those texts? was he annoyed? did he want to cut you off forever and finally drop you for good? maybe he laughed about your pathetic attempts to gain back his attention with the girl you’d seen him with yesterday. the idea only makes you want to throw up, although you can’t tell if it’s because of that or your splitting hangover. so, in an effort to drown in your self pity anyways, you yank the covers of your blanket over your head, trying to lull yourself back to sleep now that you’ve already missed out on your attendance.

unfortunately, your attempts don’t last long, the device you’d flung to the edge of your bed ringing with your roommate’s call shortly after in which she scolds you for still not having woken up. you bite back the answer that threatens to escape you when she proceeds to go on a tangent on how this is probably because you’ve been looking so dull lately, not having it in yourself to open up to your closest friend about the fact that you’ve secretly suppressed all your innermost feelings about somebody outside your social circe in fear they’d rise to the surface and force you to do things you’d never do sober.

karina eventually ends her rant with urging you to come to the building at least to meet up for lunch, convincing you in your very much hungover state that you need something in your stomach, to which you begrudgingly agree. dragging yourself out of bed to put on some simple clothes and trudging outside the door in all your miserable glory is a task in itself, but you manage somehow. you can’t help but grumble to yourself as you parade the halls of the student accommodation with only one goal in mind— avoid chan at all cost.

fate, however, is not on your side, it seems.

because the minute you step out and about underneath the midday sun, your eyes fixated on the cobblestone path underneath your feet which leads to the university buildings located right outside the student housing, you stop dead in your tracks, stumbling upon a certain scene—

the certain scene in question being chan with his very same arm candy from yesterday.

your breath hitches in your throat at the sight, and it’s like you’re glued to the ground, unmoving as if you’ve turned static and become bound to the floor. chan doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet from your spot that’s metres away from him, too busy focusing on conversing with the girl to even look up and catch his surroundings. you wonder if that’s because she’s his girlfriend, or someone he’s interested in given the fact that he seems so engaged with her and how you’ve caught them together so many times by now (twice, actually, but in your head it seems like a much bigger number), and in all honesty, that just makes everything all the more worse.

you don’t even understand why you’re so upset about this. you wanted chan to not cling to you, or a better way of putting it instead is that you weren’t ready for him to do so. you wanted to save him the heartbreak that would come from becoming entangled with you, warning him right at the start implicitly in the way you ran from him that you weren’t going to share anything deeper than whatever you guys had. in some twisted way, you think maybe that was your idea of trying to be a good person when you knew you weren’t. even so, the fact that he could become attached to you alongside your lack of an ability to commit to you guys’ messed up relationship was terrifying. you were aware it would leave him hurt in the end, alone and stuck onto you, and that scared you in ways you’d never been.

it also scared you to think chan might see something more in you, might find something worth sticking around for; that in turn, he’d manage to change the perspective you have of yourself due to the fact that he was so.. so good. too good, maybe. because the crux of it all is that you two are from such different worlds, with different needs and different lives that just so happened to become mingled amongst each other. you found him by chance encounter, not having even known his name a few months back, and now you’re here, shamelessly tormented by the fact that the boy you didn’t want to hurt is unknowingly hurting you despite the fact that you have no right to be hurt by him. you knew from the start mixing up with someone like him didn’t make sense. it never would make sense. you’d always thought that these circumstances would be the cause of chan’s own downfall, that he was just running in a losing race.

oh, how the tables have turned, you think.

“see you around, channie.” you hear from the corner, the voice snapping you out of your inner dilemma in mere moments as you come to realise it belongs to ‘that’ girl. you think your heart rate physically spikes when you watch the way she winks at him, gently touching chan’s arm before brushing past him to walk away. part of you feels relieved that she’s gone, but another part of you can’t ignore how your stomach swirls in disgust at the way she behaves around him, or rather the way it flusters him in return. you don’t miss the burning red of chan’s ears or how he shakes his head to try recover out of it, especially not because of how it makes you feel disgusted. it’s so much so that in the midst of everything, you don’t even realise his head is springing up in your direction until his eyes are locked with yours once more, just like the night before.

white, coarse shock flashes through you, and you’d think your frozen body would finally listen when you see chan making his way over to you. instead, you stand there like an idiot, akin to a kicked puppy even with the way you’re sure your emotions are written clear as day on you. it’s only by the time that he’s almost face to face with you, an unreadable expressing playing on his face and the proximity of your bodies sending you reeling that you feel like you regain control over yourself, not daring to waste another second before you’re turning around on your heel and stepping away.

chan’s voice calls out for you in instant at your actions, and you desperately try to ignore the way your name sounds falling from his lips, swallowing a lump down in your throat that threatens to break the dam nearing explosion. it’s only when you hear his footsteps speed up and a warm hand grab your arm that you stop in place for what feels like the nth time this week, feeling like you can’t go on any further. you’re so tired of running, of detaching yourself from the situation and moving out of the picture that something in you just feels so defeated. so, you slowly turn around to meet his gaze again, heaving a breath that you don’t intend to come out of your mouth at the way he’s looking at you.

“sorry. um,” chan sighs, clearing his throat as he pushes back his glasses which are sliding off his nose. “hi?” he starts, not sure where to begin. you can tell he’s tense with the way he’s fiddling with his fingers and slightly tapping his sneaker clad foot, and you wish you could ease his nerves despite the fact that you’re equally as nervous, wishing you didn’t have to face him at all today, much less so soon. “i just, uh.. wanted to ask how you are.”

“‘m good.” you respond meekly, eyes falling on your feet, or the bushes, or the speck of dirt on the floor, or just fucking anywhere that wasn’t chan’s tender gaze which makes you feel messy and confusing feelings. “how are you?” you weakly offer, risking a glance at him as he nods and says the same, which only makes you feel like your heart is about to burst with the way he’s so concentrated on your face. his expression is still unreadable, and you’re not sure what’s burning through his mind right now, although if you had to take a wild guess, you’d think he’s probably wondering how the fuck he’s supposed to bring up your stupid behaviour, and it’s much to your dismay that your suspicions are confirmed with his next sentence.

“listen, i—“

“please ignore what happened. i was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything.” you quickly blurt out, cutting him off before he can say what he was going to. you’re not even sure if he was going to bring it up because you don’t give him the opportunity to do so in fear it’ll mortify you further than you already are, so much so that you don’t seem to notice the way the look in his eyes falls, that slight glimmer of hope dying down just as soon as it had appeared. “you can just leave it be, honestly.” you add on, the next words on your tongue slipping before you can stop them.

“i’m sure your girlfriend will be happier if you do that.”

it’s venomous, the tone that you speak in, sounding bitter and hurt despite the fact that you know you’re being petty. chan just blinks at you in return, opening his mouth, closing it and then opening it again as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. he doesn’t really know what to say, not when you’ve given him so much to process in so little time. “y/n,” he eventually lets out, and you have to physically shut your eyes to compose yourself from the way he sounds so soft as he addresses you. when you open them, he’s deep in thought, stare fixated on the space between your shoulder as if it’ll help him come up with an adequate response to this fucked up situation.

“i don’t think i should move past it.” chan swallows, his voice slightly trembling if you strain to hear it. something in you burns when you realise he doesn’t even bother to correct you about calling the previous woman you’d seen him with his girlfriend, and now you’re left wondering if there really is something deeper brewing between them. your stomach plummets at the potential, so much so that you can feel hints of irrational anger rising to the surface in you, and before you know it, you’re seeing red. “what the fuck does that even mean?” you spit out in your mild fit of rage that’s just begun, and chan’s eyes widen at you use of words.

“i-i mean, you’ve been avoiding me this whole time, and i just wanna know if it was something i did from last time, or if—“

“god, you just don’t know when to quit, do you?” you continue to snap, trying desperately to ignore the fresh sting of tears threatening to leak. you know this isn’t what you want to say, your heart speaking something different that it’s been trying to tell you for ages now, but the phrases tumbling out of your mouth are anything but the truth that yearns to be shared with probably the one person who would choose to understand and listen to it.

“this was nothing to begin with, and it never will be, chan. i said what i said ‘cause i was wasted out of my mind, it doesn’t mean jackshit. so, you can go ahead and do whatever the hell you want, and i’ll do the same.”

you don’t even realise the gravity of your words until you’re done, finally meeting chan’s gaze which only makes you want to let out the sob you’ve been holding back this entire time. instant regret floods your system at the way his shoulders slump and eyes appear emotionless, and before you can think to take it back, to tell him how everything you just said is a lie and that you’ve been trying to ignore whatever you feel towards him all this while, he flashes you a smile. it’s small, and you can tell it hides unspoken emotion in it, but you don’t question nor point it out, too stunned to even process it.

“i understand. i’ll leave you be from now on.” chan says quietly, his voice broken and dull. the lump in your throat sits at the back, ever so present and persistent as you try to swallow it away whilst watching his defeated frame turn around and walk off in the opposite direction. a desire deep inside of you itches to scream after him, to run over and yank him into your arms at last, but your pride overshadows it. you know you’ve done what you need to, your mind trying to convince you of the very fact because this is what’s best for you; it’s best for you to not continue mixing with chan in order to stop hurting both him and yourself, although it seems it’s too late for that by now.

moreover, even with that previous acceptance, you still feel uneasy, like something in you remains unresolved. part of you knows exactly what the truth is, but you refuse to acknowledge it. you think you’ll never know when or if the time for you to do so will ever come. so, with a heavy heart and so many unsaid thoughts, you turn around and trudge your way back to the dorms, shooting karina a quick text about feeing under the weather to eat before getting beneath your covers to lay down. a million thoughts buzz in your head as you try to sleep, desperately wanting to evade reality, yet your efforts do little to satiate the noises in your mind.

it’s only when you feel the fresh roll of a single tear against your cheek that you truly come to understand just what’s happened. you know you’ve pushed chan away for the millionth time by now, yet something about this instance feels different. maybe it’s the fact that you stuck around to see the pain in his eyes, or maybe it’s how he still tried to reach out to you despite your avoidance of him. maybe it’s even the way he’s finally found someone who probably loves him the way he deserves to be— openly, something you could never dare to give him despite your blatantly obvious jealousy. your very admissions make the weight in your heart heavier, the knowledge that you’re jealous, that you’ve been jealous this entire time only solidifying the fact that you care. you care so fucking much to the point it’s been eating you alive, and that’s all it takes for you to break before you’re full on crying, body shaking as you cover your face in your hands. one lone thought remains in your mind in the midst of your tears, the thought that chan may have not been yours to begin with, but now?

now, he’s definitely never going to be.

. . .

“l/n, what’s the matter with you today? keep up, you’re falling behind!” your coach’s frustrated voice cuts through the evening air once more as you squint, the stadium lights behind her highlighting her form that’s menacingly staring at you with hands on her hips. a loud sigh leaves your lips, causing you to clutch the plastic of your cheer tassels tightly in your hand as you try and ignore the stares coming from your girls. this is probably the fifth time you’ve messed up the routine for everyone today, an event highly unlikely for you in normal occurrences, but after having spent a few days since.. that, you can’t seem to get into the zone and focus on anything anymore.

practise drones on for another hour, filled with more groans and scolding from your instructor directed your way in specific until she finally gives up and dismisses everyone for the day. she grumbles something about how you guys should just come back tomorrow in the morning prior to the game instead and stomps off to her office, leaving you with a pit in your stomach because you know this is all because of you. there’s silence that lingers in the atmosphere once she’s gone, and no one dares to speak up, instead opting to stare at you through stolen glances as you heave a breathe. tossing your equipment aside, you move to go fill up some water, chugging it down in hopes that quenching your thirst will get you to snap out of the haziness that’s currently fogging your mind.

“hey.” a voice greets you from behind, and you whip your head back to find yunjin and giselle standing there. crumpling the paper cup in your hands, you fling it into the nearby bin, mustering up a smile as you nod at them which pushes giselle to bite the gun. “you okay? you seem kind of.. off today.” she questions in worry, causing you to shrug.

“yeah, sorry. i’ve just got a lot on my mind, i guess.” you huff out a laugh, although there’s nothing but annoyance laced in your tone. your teammates exchange looks between them at your words, and yunjin steps forward to place a hand on your shoulder. “we get it, the big game is nerve-wracking for us too.” you hum, her voice offering the same encouraging dialogue to you droning out in your head as reality fades away and your inner monologue with yourself begins once more.

what was the actual point of all of this anymore? were you even in it for the long haul? did you really want to continue giving it your all even after knowing you’ve lost something that means so much to you? you realise belatedly now that everything around you has become superficial, and that none of it seems to matter in the grand scheme of things except for.. well, him. even the concept of going to parties, getting wasted, missing classes, being on a team with the rest of the girls, it all feels endlessly futile now. that’s not to say you haven’t had fun this entire time, but something in you feels like it’s finally come to terms with what’s surrounding you. the ringing in your ears only gets louder by the minute as you try to will it away, and it genuinely seems like the alarms in you have finally woken up after months of staying dormant.

“sorry, yun, but i have to go. i’ll see you two later.” you mumble, and before either of them can protest, you’re turning around and walking off, the evening’s cool air following you closely behind.

you don’t even say hi to karina when you reach your dorm room, ignoring her greeting as you toss your shoes to the side, but she seems to pick up on what’s going on after seeing the longing look in your eyes. she doesn’t question it either when you lock yourself in the bathroom, simply going back to reading her book as if nothing had happened, and you’re honestly grateful for that realisation when you start the water. once the tub is all filled up, you strip down naked and dip your body in, closing your eyes at the warm sensation which envelops you after slipping in.

even still, the hug your bath seems to wrap you up in doesn’t take away from the heaviness of the day that continues to wear you down, almost like what happened over the course of this week is dragging your tense muscles with it. your chest still feels tight and the voices in your head remain muffled, like they’re being deafened by white noise that hasn’t stopped increasing in pitch ever since you came to terms with how you’re feeling. how you’re feeling. you swallow at that.

it feels like hours pass by the time you finally heave your soaking wet limbs out, bundling yourself up in a towel to dry yourself off before creaking the door open. when you step out, you notice karina’s side of the room to be empty, checking your phone to see if she’d messaged you, only to find texts from her saying she’d gone down to the dining hall with her classmates. you shoot her a quick reply back, adding some obscure emoji so she knows not to worry too much and then proceed to flop down on your own bed, frowning when you feel the still remaining dampness of your hair hit the pillow.

your eyes drift to your device which illuminates in the darkness of the room again, fingers moving to grab it as you unlock it only to flick through the rows of messages flooding in from group chats you don’t even know why you’re part of in the first place. some part of you feels empty upon eyeing them, watching the way everyone buzzes in excitement about the game tomorrow knowing you feel far from how they do. rather, it’s the opposite, some sort of twisted sensation washing over you as you scroll past all your notifications only to land on a particular chat.

“fuck.” you mutter to yourself, groaning whilst your eyes rake over chan’s contact name. you press on the profile photo hesitantly, biting your lip as it enlarges to give you a better look at what picture you’ve set for him; the picture you took of him.

you still remember it vividly— the both of you had gone down to the convenience store to grab a quick study snack, only to end up chatting over long gone cold ramen for hours on no end up until the point it had turned dark outside. you’d brushed off the dirt on your jeans after getting up from the stairs you two had sat on, turning around to face chan who was also about to stand but stopped at your request for him to pose for the camera. he’d gone red in the face when you teased him about how good he’d looked after snapping some photos of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck as he brushed off your compliment despite his giggles.

you’d been so busy pointing out the details of the photo that you hadn’t even noticed the way he’d laced his hand in yours, his palm soft against your cooler skin which caused the insides of your stomach to leap in a weird way. you’d ignored it of course, letting him enjoy his moment seeing as no one was around to catch you both anyways, but the blooming contentment you’d felt in your body remained until he’d walked you back to your dorm room, shyly flashing you a smile before placing a small kiss on your forehead. you rode out on that high for the next few days without even knowing it.

it’s only when your screen becomes wet with a few drops of your tears that you snap out of the memories, realising you’re crying once more. you use the back of your sleeve to wipe at your face, sniffling slightly all while trying to hold back the emotions that threaten to escape you yet again after having bottled them up for days now. your previous texts with chan stare back in your eyes as a sore reminder of everything, and you can’t help but scroll through them, reading back the silly messages you’d exchanged which only make you want to wallow in self pity even more.

was chan thinking of you the way you were of him? was he cooped up and unable to progress with his day because he was still hung up on how things had ended? did he care? did he.. ever care? did he care half as much as you did right now?

he did.

you realise belatedly that he cared, cared so much that maybe it was even more than you do right now or ever could and will. chan cared for you so deeply, so passionately in a way nobody else had the capability to do so in your entire life. he replaced the love you lacked growing up with his boyish charms and soft spoken personality, and he was willing to give up parts of him for your sake so as long as it meant you were happy.

he cared. he had cared.

he’d cared so fucking much and you’d thrown it away like it was nothing.

before you can even process your next actions, your thumb presses on the call icon next to chan’s profile. the ring goes out immediately, his nickname and photo appearing on your screen once more as you wait with bated breath. you don’t even know what you’re doing right now, you don’t think you ever have known to be honest when it comes to chan, but some irrational, impulsive part of you feels like it’s taken over, yearning to satiate the desires you’ve ignored for a long time now.

beep. beep. beep.

please pick up. please don’t pick up. please pick up. please don’t pick up. please—

“the number you have dialled is..“

it’s immediate the way you click off the call, bottom lip wobbling once you’re sure there’s no way anyone can hear as all your pent up frustration comes crashing down on you in an instant. a beat of silence passes as you exhale a shaky breath, which seems to be the beginning of the floodgates opening because by the time the air even leaves your mouth, you’re choking back a sob, much like you have been for these past few days. your heart tightens in a way that makes you extremely uncomfortable, and your hands shake as you try embrace yourself by hugging your knees to your chest so you can bury your face in them.

chan hadn’t picked up. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve asked him to come over in the dead of the night to meet up with you just so you two can make out in the backseat of his car. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve texted wishing to facetime with him because you’re bored of trying to do your assignments. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve wanted him to let you know to ring you up once he’s arrived home safe after having driven you back to your dorm.

he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times because he was gone from your life once and for all.

. . .

the next morning arrives far too soon for your liking, and it takes everything within you to drag your body out of the solace of your bed which currently seems to be the only thing providing you any semblance of comfort in your dull times. you do your best to make small talk with karina as you both get ready for the game, your roommate chatting your ear off about something mundane and irrelevant that you suspect is her way of filling the uncomfortable air lingering around you that she’s picked up on. you’re grateful for her trying to compensate for your lack of a response, but even with karina’s support, your soul feels extremely hollow and devoid of any meaning still. you hum and offer simple quips to her regardless of your mind screaming at you to go non-verbal, and before you know it, you’re both out of the door with you dressed up in your cheer uniform despite not feeling the slightest bit prepared to tackle what the day is about to bring.

by the time you both reach the stadium, everyone has already filled out the majority of the seats, the loud buzz of excitement resonating through the surroundings as you rake your eyes over the large turnout. karina flashes you a smile before giving you a quick hug, assuring you that you’ll do great and disappearing into the crowd to find her own spot to sit down. you want to believe her words, you truly do, but all your mind is fixated on right now is how sheerly empty you feel, your thoughts still drowning you in negativity with the way they haven’t shut up since last night, or maybe even for the past few weeks if you’re being honest. despite whatever emotions and jitters you’re feeling though, you try shrug it off, breathing in deeply before making your way over to where the rest of your team has gathered.

it’s the same speech that you’re met with when you finally stand around the huddle that everyone has formed in, their bright grins and your coach’s encouraging ment making you feel guilty for not being as fully into this as everybody else is. despite the drawbacks, you beam anyways, participating in the pre-show ritual of putting your hands into the centre and laughing alongside your girls. you all separate eventually and stand in your positions, and it doesn’t take long before the event begins and you’re all starting the crowd off with the all too familiar chant of your university’s slogan that everybody joins in on.

the game begins and generally progresses with no major hiccups, and in the end, you do manage to pull off the routine you’ve practised multiple times seamlessly without any issues. your limbs burn, and your voice is hoarse by the time the band takes over, but you try your best to maintain your outgoing nature despite the inner turmoil that’s been brewing inside you for a while now. nonetheless, before you know it, halftime is over and both teams are on the brink of a match point stopping them from taking victory. everybody watches with their nerves at a full time high, and for a moment, your thoughts seem to fade as you focus on keeping the gathering of people upbeat and motivated to encourage the players, but it’s short-lived after the star player manages to score the winning goal once and for all.

upon the realisation that your team has won, everyone erupts in loud celebration and applause, some even standing from their seat to make their way down and join in on the crowd of players who have formed around the one who threw the last shot. your girls and coach all yell in joy, a few of them hugging each other after a successfully executed performance which leaves them jumping up and down. you stay to watch from the sidelines, happy for your team’s hard efforts despite your still heavy shoulders dragging you down from getting into the spirit. some of the girls try and grab you by the hand to bring you into the hug, but you politely decline, saying you need to catch your breath for a second as some meaningless excuse to avoid having to be surrounded by a large group of people for too long.

observing everyone feels bittersweet. you want to be as pumped up as everybody else is, want to join in and ride on the high of having tackled what was quite possibly the biggest, most important match of the season, but a part of you holds back. no matter how much you try drag yourself out of your low spirits, you can’t succeed, instead feeling the need to chew on your bottom lip with your rising inability to hide your emotions as you stand in the middle of the ground alone. you don’t know where karina’s sauntered of to after the news of today's game outcome, and you’re not even sure where the rest of the team is heading to now; you assume it’s to some nearby diner for further commemoration. everything in you remains the same, numb and drained of any potential happiness that could’ve been because of what you’ve come to realise is completely your fault.

with a deep sigh and a gradual acceptance that you should just head back to the dorms, you turn on your heel, tossing your tassels somewhere in the basket you’d picked them up from before slowly trudging your way in the direction of the student accommodation. your eyes feel glossy, and that weird lump you keep getting before you’re about to cry is back in your throat as you watch everyone whizz past you, clearly bustling in thrill that’s much different from how you’re feeling. you do catch a few glances on you, feeling people’s stares and knowing they’re probably wondering why a member of the cheer team isn’t out partying with the rest, but you can’t find it in you to care anymore. you don’t know how you ever did in the first place.

y/n.

your ears perk at a familiar voice shouting your name in the distance, goosebumps spiking on your skin at the way it sounds so similar to chan’s. you feel like you’re hallucinating at this point, just hearing things because of your growing infatuation with him that’s finally made its way up from the underlying surface, and that only prompts you to walk faster as you tug your arms to your chest. if you’re starting to imagine things, it’s best that you get out of here. so, with your eyes squeezed shut, you try carry yourself as fast as your legs can take you, the call of your name only growing louder regardless of how much you ignore it. you swear you’re going mad from the way each time it returns, it sounds even closer and identical to how chan does, springing up memories of when he’d called you by your name the previous times you’d spent together.

y/n. y/n. y/n.

“y/n!”

your eyes widen when you hear the same voice and footsteps jogging up directly right behind you, this time knowing for sure that it’s not just in your head and rather coming from a few meters away. your heart accelerates with the possibility of what that means, of what that would entail if it were true. it couldn’t be.

..could it?

you’re quick to spin around when the thought crosses your mind, your eyes raking over your surroundings to search for that one figure you’ve been looking for in everyone you’ve met for the past few months. your breath catches in your throat, and you whip your head side to side to try and find the source, but it’s only when your vision stabilises and settles on the emerging figure in front of you that you realise it—

chan.

it’s chan.

chan is here.

“y/n.” he breathes out when he finally catches up to you, his glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose in his haste to greet you. you don’t respond, mouth open and feet frozen in place with your mind rushing at a million miles per hour and so many different questions echoing in it. is this real? have you fallen into some delusional state of existence where you’re envisioning the one person you’ve needed for so long? is he just a figment of your imagination that’s been burning with his face for so many days now? you can’t believe it, you don’t want to believe it, you think you don’t deserve to believe it. you long to reach out to him and place your hand in his, to feel and see if he’s actually present and standing in front of you, but your body acts like it’s been caught up in utter shock, something chan seems to pick up on after your prolonged silence.

“g-good job on the game.” he decides to stutter out as a way of starting conversation hopefully, cursing internally at how his voice wavers before letting out a nervous chuckle. “you were really great out there, and i saw you lead everyone really well. you know, if i think about it, cheerleading is kinda an intense sport, ‘cause why were you guys jumping so high, and—“

“you came.”

chan blinks as if to process your words, his eyes softening immediately at the admission that’s slipped out of you when you cut his rambling off mid-sentence with two simple words. you look so shocked, and it’s with a proper glance at your face he’s getting after not having been able to see you well enough for a while that he notices the remnants of your bloodshot eyes and slight dark circles, all of which you’d tried to cover up with makeup. he thinks you’re still as pretty as ever like this, and his hand twitches with the urging need to take you in his arms. he wants so badly to hold you, but he hesitates, instead settling on two, even more simpler words—

“you called.”

that’s all it takes. all it takes is two words which inherently have no meaning unless you give it to them to set you free and rid you of the static in your brain, your orbs stinging with the all too knowing tears that slowly drop out of them as you let everything sink in. it may sound like the most mundane sentence on the outside, but to you, after weeks of uncertainty and these last few days filled with what you would honestly classify as the worst depressive thoughts of your life, they feel like the most uplifting thing ever.

chan’s gaze widens when he catches the sole droplet of salty water roll down your cheek, and he’s instinctively extending his finger to wipe it away until he realises what he’s just done. you don’t even get to speak as he splutters out apologies for touching you while looking around to see if anyone caught that. his actions make your heart ache, knowing it’s because of you that he feels so cautious, and before you can even think, you’re crashing into him. the sudden weight of your body causes him to stumble a little on his feet, but he manages to stabilise himself as you wrap yourself around him in his embrace, burying your face into his chest.

“‘m sorry. ‘m so, so sorry.” your voice cracks as you speak, muffled into his jacket to the point he has to strain to hear it. you keep repeating the same thing over and over again to the point it makes his frown deepen, and he’s instant in cradling you back in his hold, other people be damned because he’d be an idiot not to take care of you now of all times. he lets you mumble into his clothes as long as you need to, grip on your smaller figure tightening while he rubs your back soothingly. his touch feels warm and comforting, and you don’t even know how you’d gone so far without it, pulling back with a sniffle after a short instance so you can scan your eyes over his features.

he’s dressed in simple clothes today, but that same combo of his signature snapback and glasses he always has remain resting on his head and face. you don’t even know what it is about them, maybe it’s the fact that you’ve gotten so accustomed to seeing him in these things, or maybe it’s how you’re finally catching a glimpse of it all after having been away for so long, but the sight of his accessories that you know all too well only makes you cry harder. you try move your arm to wipe at your tears, but chan is quicker, the soft pads of his thumbs brushing against your wet cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. your bottom lip juts out shamelessly as he wipes the remnants of your emotions away, to which he just smiles.

“i’m sorry too.” he admits, your confusion urging him to elaborate. “i saw you called yesterday night, but my brother had my phone and wouldn’t give it back to me, so i couldn’t pick up. i debated calling you back too, but i wasn’t sure if it was just another drunken mishap, and then after you said everything that day, i-i didn’t want to risk bothering you, and..“ he trails off, biting his bottom lip. you swallow at his words.

“it wasn’t a drunk call.” you shake your head, voice still wobbly as you clear your throat. “chan, i..“ you struggle to find a plausible explanation, wishing you could say a hundred words and none at the same time. you want to tell him everything in your heart, all the fears you’ve had this entire time that you want to get over with his help, all the nonsense your brain has been spewing ever since you told him to walk out of your life, all of it. you want him to know every deep, dark secret you’ve kept this entire time, but you can’t seem to find the right way to phrase it all.

“i get it.” he offers a lopsided grin as if having read your mind, and it’s pathetic really how it instantly eases all your worries. “you don’t have to say anything, not unless you want to. but, y/n,” chan hesitates, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. “there’s something i need to tell you before it’s too late.”

that makes you gulp, and you wonder for a split second if maybe this is the end. maybe this is chan finally putting himself and his needs first before you can even profess all the unsaid declarations of your feelings for him. maybe he’s become fed up with you at last and came to see you in person today to let you down easily, telling you sweet things and comforting you so you’d ease your guard and be more susceptible to what he’s about to say. maybe it’s finally time for you to let go before you could’ve even had a taste of what was to come, maybe this is the universe’s way of letting you know you lost your timing due to your insolence, maybe—

“i love you.”

…what?

your eyes practically bulge out of your head at this point, and for a while, you wonder if you really heard him right. it’s like your entire world seems to slow down around you too, your surroundings spinning even with you trying to stabilise your vision after what you’d just been told. everything feels like it’s fading into background noise, and suddenly your entire focus is only on chan; chan with his gorgeous face and honey-like voice that you’ve heard so many times letting you know the one thing you’ve longed to hear from him these past few weeks.

“i think— no, i know you’re it for me.” he continues to blurt out, his anxiety gnawing him at the back of his mind with the way you don’t say anything. “i’ve wanted to tell you for so long because i’ve been in love with you for a while now, but i didn’t because of what you said that day. a-and i know you told me not to bother you again, and maybe you’re not in the right mindset right now and i’m just imagining all of this, and you’re going to wake up tomorrow having changed your mind and we’ll go back to the way we were, and—“

chan’s words die down in his throat before he can even get the rest of his sentence out, a surprised yelp leaving him when you abruptly cut him off by pressing your mouth against his. he lets out a small noise of shock at the way you lean into him, but his hands wrap around you as if its instinct, caging you into his body when he eventually does reciprocate your actions. your lips are soft; they’re so warm and taste like your strawberry chapstick, but he doesn’t care that it’s probably staining his face, at least not when he’s finally got you with him, no less in the way he’s longed for ever since he met your drunk figure stumbling into the balcony with him that night at the party.

your head isn’t any quieter either, adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart impossibly beating out of your chest as you enthusiastically mould yourself to him. your fingers bunch up the jacket he’s wearing, and the way he’s kissing you makes your toes curl inside your shoes, but none of that matters when you’re here at long last with chan. chan, chan, chan. your chan. your chan who has never been yours but is now saying he is. your imperfect, awkward, nerdy chan who holds the door open for you and respects all your wishes regardless of how they make him feel. the realisation makes your insides twist in a way you think might make your legs give out on you, but chan is quick to squeeze your waist as a way of reassuring you that he won’t let you fall, and you can’t help the fluttery sensation in your stomach that passes with that.

when you both do pull away, it’s with much reluctance, and you can see the faintest hint of a pout on chan’s face decorated with the remnants of your makeup, but he doesn’t seem to care so you think neither should you. your eyes lock when he opens his, those same orbs you’ve felt such complicated feelings for reflecting back at you with unspoken tension and so much adoration. you think you might physically melt with the way he’s staring down at you, so lovestruck and completely in awe, but that’s exactly what gives you the push to say your next words—

“i love you so much.” you choke out, unexpected emotions washing over you as you finally admit what you’ve been wanting to say for so long. it feels liberating in a way you’ve never experienced, to be honest and real with him, but you think you could get used to it.

“how could i not love you, chan? you’re everything i’ve ever needed.” your voice comes out in a whisper, and chan feels his shoulders relax at that, relief flooding through his system when he finally, finally hears what he’s wanted to since he’s known you. “‘m sorry for pushing you away, ‘m sorry for hurting you, and i’ll try my best to stop running from what i want. so.. if you’ll still have me even after all that, i promise i’ll make it worth your while.” you look down at your feet, swallowing in fear that he’d think otherwise after being reminded of everything you did to him. you know you don’t deserve a second chance, but the thought of chan changing his mind after everything that’s happened feels way too cruel, although you think maybe that’s your karma.

“hey,” your ears catch his gentle voice speak up, dragging you out of your thoughts. before you can even look up, chan’s hooking his finger under your chin and making you do so, his beautiful face that you’ve fallen for throughout these past few months coming into your view. the way he’s staring down at you is so tender, so full of admiration that you genuinely believe you might pass out. chan has always looked at you like you hung the stars up in the sky, like he wants you and you only in every lifetime. but, seeing it now after his confession, seeing the way his gaze rakes over your features as if he’s trying to commit them to memory, you feel like you might cry again.

“of course i’ll have you, are you kidding me?” he huffs out in a laugh that pulls you back to reality, although it sounds more like him being in disbelief. “i’ve been dreaming of this ever since i even saw you.” he shyly mumbles, and you can’t stop the goofy grin that spreads across your face at his admittance. you want to jump in joy, to shout out your feelings for him from the top of the bleachers after finally having it all laid bare in front of you, but you can’t, so instead you settle on smashing your lips against his once more, cradling his face in your hands.

chan’s quick in responding this time, and you can sense the way he’s beaming when he moves his mouth in sync with yours. your hand slides up his chest to grip the edge of his jacket, and you swear you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart under your skin, wondering if he can hear yours too with the way you’re both pressed up to each other. you stay like that to the point your lungs burn, exchanging kisses and unspoken feelings amongst each other until you finally have enough (not really). your hand interlocks with his once you pull away and flash him a cheeky smile, the words already leaving you—

“let’s get out of here.”

. . .

by the time you and chan make it to his car, you’re already panting, lips bruised with the way you’ve been pushing them against one another’s for the past few minutes. it took long enough to even drag him to the parking lot, chan not being able to let go of you in favour of walking the short distance to the outdoor area where he'd driven and stopped. the morning sky that’s illuminated above you with hues of orange stretches out for miles, and if anyone’s up there looking down at you both, they’d probably see two young adults giggling amongst themselves as one of them presses the other up to the side of his vehicle. you feel butterflies erupt in you with the way chan slots his body against yours, his leg pushing its way through the gap between yours, and his mouth is on you before you can even speak.

“you look so pretty today.” chan retracts from you to whisper suddenly, his slightly foggy glasses once again sliding off his nose. you reach up and push them back with a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he swears he's never seen a sight so alluring in his life; his red ears are enough evidence of that fact. “so, am i not pretty every other day, mr. bang?” you tease, causing him to let out a chuckle. he missed this, missed the banter between you two that was the start of what could've been mistaken as a lighthearted relationship if no one bothered to correct the details of it. regardless of all the trials and tribulations it took to get you both to this point, he doesn't care, at least not when he finally has you in his arms, your top bunched up in his hands as he looks down at your precious face.

“nope.” he pops the ‘p’, thumb brushing against your cheek. “because those days, you're even prettier.” he murmurs, and you think if your heart races anymore that it might actually burst. the love and adoration that you’re experiencing for him right now, the love and adoration that you've been experiencing for a long time now, it all feels like a fever dream. you're finally able to do and say what you want to him, but you think the best part of it all is him reciprocating it. the way he gazes at you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, all of it— it's all so full of emotion to the point you fear that you can't ever give it all back. you'd be damned if you didn't try though.

“alright, romeo, pipe it down. you're gonna get all the ladies with that line.” you joke, and chan throws his head back to let out a laugh that makes your insides twist. you try to move your head away to hide the tint of pink that's rapidly spreading across your face, but he notices anyway, a large grin plastered all over his mouth that he doesn't even bother hiding anymore. he fumbles around with his keys a little until he finally finds the one that unlocks his car, instantly opening the door to the backseat to which you usher in at lightning speed, drawing another laugh from him.

“c’mere.” he sighs once he's in too, grasping your hand to tug you onto his lap somehow despite the cramped space. you let out a noise of surprise as he settles you over him, but your hands instantly move to his shoulders to stabilise yourself, finding the familiar position you've been in far too many times. “someone’s eager.” you let out breathlessly, unable to hold back the giggle that bubbles in your throat at the way he flushes red at your observation. his hands find purchase on your waist, the smooth feel of your uniform being bunched up in his larger fingers causing your heart to beat out of its chest.

“well, yeah, but.. also, i missed you.” chan confesses quietly. “i mean, i’ve been dreaming about this for so long and now it's finally real.” he mutters in disbelief, and you can't stop the pout that forms. your fingers trace along the soft skin of his face, moving past the outline of his jaw to his swollen mouth that you've probably kissed at least ten times by today. you don't hesitate to kiss it again, lips moulding perfectly against his as your eyes slip shut to revel in the moment. chan is nothing but full of sighs of content at your actions, and when you pull away, he swears he almost whines.

“i missed you too. so much.” you admit, full and honest because you had. you'd missed him so much to the point you'd have thought you were going crazy. you missed him every day you had waken up whether or not you wanted to be aware of it, and you'd missed him every night that you'd cried yourself to sleep. and yet, here he is now, sitting with you in his lap all the way in the back of his beat up car, telling you all these sweet words that make you want to do absolutely sinful things to him.

“missed talking to you.” you boop his nose, and he smiles at you, irrevocably down bad. “missed hugging you.” your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, and while you shudder at the visible idea of how much stronger chan actually is compared to you, you sign it off as a fantasy you'll have to indulge in someday later. “missed kissing you.” you mumble, leaning in to pepper a soft trail across his cheeks. “and, most of all..” you trail off, inching closer so you're at level with his burning ears before you speak—

“i missed tasting you.” your voice comes out in a low tone, and chan all but groans at the dirty admission. he shifts slightly underneath you as evidence of his discomfort, but you know that's only from the way you can feel him filling out his jeans. your hips purposely push down on his to grind against the slowly forming bulge tucked away behind his boxers, and he jerks forward, nails digging into the fabric of your skirt with a loud hiss leaving him.

“don’t— don’t do that.” chan gasps out, the sight of your glossy, doe eyes instantly having blood rush between his legs. he can tell you’re in the mood to play games, but he also knows that if he goes one more minute without having claimed you in any sort of way, he might actually die. “‘m literally on the brink of it, baby. please.” you bite your lip at his small plea, ignoring the way the old nickname falls from him as the faintest hint of a smirk forms across your features. you choose to rock your clothed core on his once more anyway, which makes chan toss his head back so rough that a slight thump resonates in the air after he hits the seat.

his gaze is hooded whilst he watches you hump your slowly growing wetness over his pants for the next few minutes, mouth parted as heavy exhales leave it alongside the rapidly rising tension between you both. one particular press of your probably damp by now panties on his bulge has him keening, which only makes you smile. “shit, you still love teasing me, huh?” he curses in question, breathy laughter escaping him at the sight of you nodding as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. the sight alone is so attractive that you can’t resist leaning in to capture him in another searing kiss, one that’s much hotter and heavier than the previous ones.

chan’s confusion is audible with the way he voices it out loud when you suddenly pull away, but any and all complaints die down in his throat the minute he sees you shuffle from his lap, biting back the groan that threatens to rumble through his chest at you sinking to your knees instead. you’re thankful that his passenger seat is adjusted forward to give you space to sit, likely being that way from all your previous activities, or maybe it could be from anybody else he brought in during the technically no contact period you both broke moments prior to this. hot jealousy bubbles under the surface at the potential of someone else getting to see him how you do, but you swallow it down in lieu of making the most of what situation you’re in now.

“pretty girl.” chan’s voice is merely a whisper, dragging you out of your thoughts as one of his hands caresses the flesh of your cheek, leaving you to nuzzle against it. he glances at you so softly regardless of whatever erotic position you’ve put yourself in, still in utter awe at the fact that you’re here, physically and in front of him instead of the daydreams he’s often found himself imagining of you. he can’t decide whether you look like the epitome of perfection with the sunlight streaming through his windows and highlighting your face, or the epitome of sin with the predicament you’re in which leaves you situated on the floor of his car between his legs; he chooses to settle on both.

your fingers graze his denim clad thighs, and chan retracts himself from brushing his thumb against the skin of your face to hurriedly undo the zipper of his jeans. you’re more than eager to help, assisting him in unbuttoning and shimmying them off despite the cramped space you’re both in. eventually, chan’s pants and boxers are pooling around his ankles, and his leaking cock awaits prettily for any sort of relief you may be able to provide it, the tip a slight shade of red as precum dribbles out. you’re quick to swipe it off, chan’s noises at you doing so falling on deaf ears as you bring the essence up to your mouth and lick it off. the familiar tinge of sweet and saltiness invades your senses, only making the uncomfortable stickiness between your own legs grow.

“you’re so beautiful, channie.” you say after popping your finger out of your mouth, small hands instantly moving to wrap around his length and squeeze just a tad, which has chan’s chest rumbling with a moan. “gorgeous face, gorgeous body, gorgeous everything. how could i have been so foolish to almost let go of it?” you wonder out loud, eyes flickering up to him when he buries his face in his palms, getting flustered at your compliments. “my shy boy.” you giggle at his actions, mesmerised by the way he twitches in your hold when you softly pump him up and down.

“been such a bad girl ignoring you, yeah?” you sigh in faux frustration, although a part of it is true. “no more of that, though. let me make it up to you.” you gather a wad of spit in your mouth before letting it dribble across his cockhead, smearing the saliva over it with your thumb once more. your ministrations have chan’s hips threatening to buck up in your hold, but he restrains himself, embarrassed at how worked up you’ve already gotten him without even having done anything really. “i promise i’ll make you feel so good.” you assure, eyebrows furrowing when he just shakes his head.

“no, y-you always make me feel good.” he stutters at the way your fingers squeeze just a bit harder from his words, and before he can even add anything else to his previous sentence, you’re leaning forward to wrap your warm mouth around him.

a loud groan shudders its way past chan’s lips at how you practically swallow him whole in one go, taking him in so deep that he can feel the way his mushroom head kisses the back of your throat just a smidge. you pull off a little to let your tongue slide out and lick around the underside of his dick, another hand coming up to fondle with his balls simultaneously. soon enough, his low grunts fill the air, only prompting you to hum around chan as the vibrations of your voice shoot up his body. “fuck, angel.” he manages to utter out, a deep moan slipping out when he dares to peek a glance at you, almost cumming prematurely from the way you look up at him through your lashes.

“wan’ you to fuck my throat. please.” you pull off of him to plead instead, rubbing the spit-stricken head of his sensitive cock against your swollen lips. the way you’re staring back at him with wide eyes, your wet muscle darting out to dip into his slit as he chokes on his own words makes him want to take you right then and there, but chan holds back, choosing to oblige your request with a shaky nod as he reaches forward to thread his fingers through your hair. you smile at him sweetly, enveloping his length back into your hot cavern of a mouth and pushing your nose flush to his pelvis.

this time, he feels his tip bump deliciously against the back of your throat, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to start slowly push himself in and out whilst gripping you in a makeshift ponytail. the sloppy sounds of your gagging fill the space of his car in an instant, and the mere sight of your tears welling up nearly sends chan toppling over the edge. he’s quick to take you off of him at that, and you’re about to protest to ask why he stopped when he cuts you off. “‘m sorry, angel, but if we don’t stop, i'll end up finishing like a teenage boy in your mouth.” you huff out a small laugh at his choice of words.

“i wouldn’t have cared, channie. that’s kinda the goal of sex.” you point out, rising from your crouched position with burning knees to settle on his lap once more as you wrap your arms around his neck. “yeah, but..” chan trails off, his breath hitching at the way he presses up against your clothed stomach, and you titter from how he seems absolutely awestruck at the sight of you in his hold. it’s so endearing that you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his nose, letting your lips trail across his cheeks, ears and jaw before finally landing on his mouth. chan feels like he’s going to go mad when you eventually retract from him. “yeah, but?” you remind him with a smug grin, watching him blink to gather his thoughts again.

“i-i want you to feel good too.” he mumbles shyly, averting his gaze elsewhere in embarrassment as you coo. you bring your fingers up to move his face so he’s glancing at you once more, his shining eyes locking with yours and making your heart swell.

chan’s love for you has always been selfless; he doesn’t seem to care for his own pleasure much when it comes to you and always insists on making you feel good over having himself do so. it’s one of the things you’ve grown so familiar with when being around him, and before he came along, the concept of someone being so giving had never even crossed your mind. you’re aware a part of it lies in the fact that you’re his first— first kiss, first time, first everything. it used to scare you before, making you feel like he was missing out on what everyone else could offer him by being stuck to you, but the minute the possibility of him having the experiences he shared with you with somebody else became a reality, you knew you could give less of a fuck about being selfish.

because right now in this very moment, or two hours from now, one day from today, a few weeks from this time, and in every lifetime to come too, you wanted chan. you wanted him on his good or bad days, wanted him through thick or thin, and wanted him even if you had the chance to choose from anybody in the world. he’d become it for you, and god, were you glad he felt the same way.

“it makes me feel good when you do, baby.” you remind him, flashing him a smile that makes his insides melt. “but, if you insist, then who am i to deny my pretty boy?” chan has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face at your words. your pretty boy. yours. he’d wanted to be nothing more ever since you walked into his life and now he finally had it, the idea being so incredulously unfathomable to him that he doesn’t even register you taking off your top. it’s only when your fingers graze his cheek and you lean in for another kiss that he notices you’re now half naked and straddling him, a noise of pleasure leaving his mouth at the realisation which you swallow up. your lips slot against his so perfectly, almost like they’re two pieces of the same puzzle finally meeting each other, warmth blooming in both of you at the idea of being each other’s missing link.

“no, no, just lemme pull ‘em to the side.” you pull back and whisper when he lifts your skirt to yank down your underwear. shakily, you reach below and hook your fingers into the damp material, tugging it to one end and exposing your wetness that nearly drips out of you. chan has to hold back the dirty noises that bubble inside him at the sight of your soaked panties, but even more so when you grab his length and line him up to your entrance. both of you can’t stop your sighs of long deserved relief when his tip breaches your opening, barely sucked in but still nestled inside, and before chan can beg you to put him all the way in, you’re sitting down on his cock completely, biting your lip at the burning stretch.

“fuck.” is the only thing that you hear from chan once he’s fully bottomed out, looking up to see him staring down at where you’re both connected with blown out pupils. his gaze makes you burn up, involuntarily causing you to clench to the point your boy is digging his nails into your side, leaving crescents in your skin for you to wake up to tomorrow. “missed you so much.” chan’s voice is strained alongside the small laugh that escapes him, his hips slightly bucking up and causing you to whimper as the sound goes straight to his dick. he has to physically stop himself from fucking up into you, your warmth enveloping him in the best way possible.

“please move, princess. please.” he begs, pleas dripping with raw desire as he gazes up at you with wide eyes. it’s all the confirmation you need to slowly lift your hips up and lower them down on his, your warm walls clinging to his cock having the both of you moaning out loud at the feeling it provides instantly.

your movements are slow, deep and deliberate with how you rock your hips in a gentle grind against chan’s length buried to the hilt inside you. the angle of your bodies locked together allows his mushroom head to breach far inside you, and it almost feels like he’s all the way in your stomach. chan’s cock has always been girthy and heavy, a large vein protruding along the side of his shaft and leading to the bulbous tip of his dick. the first time you took him, let him feel what it’s like to not just fuck his fist, he almost tore you in half with his misplaced, rabid actions. but right now, with you riding him in the backseat of his car, the windows fogging up and no doubt giving away your scandalous activities, he feels even larger in you, especially with how he pushes up to meet you halfway.

“baby.” you mewl at a particularly well-placed thrust, preening at how his cockhead brushes against that spot tucked safely inside, and chan bites his lip at the way your face is contorted in absolute bliss. he brings one of his knobby digits up to wet it before trailing it down to press into your clit, and you almost fall forward from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “s’good?” he murmurs, continuing to rub tight circles on your swollen nub as you whimper in agreement, vision going crosseyed from how great your body feels at the moment.

sex with chan is always an experience to say the least. you still remember the time he lost his virginity to you, rutting inside your heat freely in his childhood bedroom at a study session gone wrong (or right even) with the headboard bumping into the wall. thankfully, nobody was home that day, and you got the privilege of being as loud as you wanted, an occurrence you didn’t expect to happen because well, everything was new to chan. you hadn’t anticipated him being able to make you cum at all, but he had anyway, drawing at least one orgasm from you with his mouth and fingers before he even slipped in. the entire act had been so.. domestic. the way he’d held you, let you use him, and how he’d kissed you so tenderly, it really should’ve dawned on you right then and there that there was no escaping this. chan had gotten you in the palm of his hand from the start contrary to what he thought; you just hadn’t been aware of it until now.

“i love you.” chan blurts out suddenly, drawing you back to reality as the confession falls so easily from his lips, and your heart races for what feels like the nth time today. it makes you fuck back onto him even harder, your actions become more fervent and desperate with how you lift your hips up to slam them back down on his cock. his car is probably rocking back and forth deliriously by now, and when you slap your hand against the glass to stabilise yourself, it leaves an imprint, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care about that. “you’re the only one for me. always have and always will be.” chan pants out, his whimpers growing louder with the way your pussy tightens around him at his words.

“i love you.” you whine when he pinches your clit slightly between his fingers, feeling your slick juices dripping down the both of you and making a mess of his backseat. “love you so much, channie. you’re my one and only too.” chan shudders at that, wrapping a hand at the back of your neck to pull you in for a messy kiss. it’s a swap of dirty moans and spit, and chan swears he sees heaven when you slip your tongue inside his mouth to lick into it, the knot in his stomach growing closer to snapping.

“cum with me. please, baby, ‘m so close. cum inside me, please, please, please.” you pull away slightly to whimper, smashing your lips back on his to moan muffled against them. chan just nods rapidly at your pleading, feet planted flat on the floor to give him enough leverage for drilling up into you. the slight curve of his cock pistons into that same spot from before, and it isn’t long before your cunt clamps down on him with your high washing over you like a tidal wave. the tingling sensation resonates through your entire body, and you can’t stop lewd sounds from spilling out of you and into chan’s mouth.

chan follows close behind, balls tightening and limbs shaking as his cock twitches inside you. it barely takes him one, two thrusts until he’s painting your walls white in his release, warm cum oozing and almost leaking out of you with how much of it there is. curses and low grunts leave him, and it takes a minute for the two of you to calm down with how intense the spiking pleasure feels. you remain in his embrace until the ringing in your ears dies down, panting onto each other as sweat trickles down your back and his forehead. when you open your eyes, chan has still got his shut, and you lean forward to press a gentle smooch to the underside of his jaw, kissing it until he regains his composure and faces you.

“i think i died.” he sighs in bliss at last, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his playful remark, yelping when his finger pokes you in the side for your attitude. “better than your other side pieces, huh?” you question breathless, still worn out and tired from your previous activities. chan stares at you in pure confusion as you give him a pointed look like it’ll remind him of the girl you’d seen him with countless times at the party or outside your dorms, and it takes a while until the lightbulb in his head goes off, orbs wide before he’s bursting out in laughter. “it’s not funny, she was all over you.” you grumble at his reaction, crossing your arms across your chest.

“baby, that was just a friend’s ex who was trying to make him jealous. i barely know her.” he explains with a wide grin on his face. “although, it looks like she got to you instead.” chan chortles when you slap him lightly on the shoulder at his words, having the time of his life as you flush bright pink in embarrassment after having gotten worked up over nothing. “still, she didn’t have to call you nicknames and flirt with you.” you try and defend yourself which only makes chan shake his head before cupping your face and pressing a short kiss to your lips.

“‘m all yours, pretty girl. don’t even worry.” he reassures, eyes so full of love that it’s hard to argue against him anymore. you still choose to pout anyways, and he takes that as an invitation to lean in and push his mouth back to yours. each kiss you exchange makes you melt little by little, and by the time chan is pulling away, you’ve forgotten all about what made you mad in the first place. “so,” your ears perk up when he speaks again, and you look down to find his expression filled with slight hesitation.

a beat of silence passes as chan struggles to find the words to say what he wants, choosing to busy himself in fiddling with the ends of your skirt that you’d failed to take off in your frenzy to claim him. you tilt your head to the side in expectance, but your eyes soften as he heaves out a breath that seems to be filled with deep emotion. instinctively, you take his hand that’s playing around with your clothes and intertwine your fingers, squeezing and dragging it up to nuzzle your face into the back of his palm lovingly in hopes it may calm him down. your little plan works, and before you can even speak up yourself to just ask what’s on his mind, chan beats you to it.

“um, what does this make us?” he mumbles quietly, swallowing the small lump that’s forming at the back of his throat. chan doesn’t want to return to whatever it was that you guys had going on prior to what happened just now between you two, and even though you’ve both declared your feelings for one another countless times by now, it’s still unclear where everything stands, or rather where you stand. he wants you to be his, completely and fully so he can show you off to everyone, but fear gnaws him at the back of his mind that maybe that’s not quite what you want. despite what you’d said while entangled with him, he finds it hard to believe that you’d crave for the same relationship he wants, and he prays that he’ll hear the answer from you that he’s yearned for ages by now.

on the other hand, you simply blink at his words, letting them sink into your head. it’s only when they fully register that you break out into a small smile, heart sinking at how chan looks away with worry evident in his eyes. you know you’re the reason behind his reluctance to want more with you, and that it’ll take some time for him to understand your feelings are on par with his and have been for a while, or may even be further ahead at this point, but you’re more than willing to fix that, regardless of how long it takes.

“channie,” your voice comes out soft and sweet, and chan resists the urge to tear up at the way you call his nickname with so much love. he gulps when you tilt his face to look at yours, shoulders relaxing instantly when he sees you beaming back at him. it’s insane to think how a simple happy look from you makes him feel lighter on his own feet, but with the way some of the anxiety brewing inside him seems to fade away after having gotten a glimpse of your smiling face, he thinks it’s far from implausible.

“if it’s okay with you, and if you’ll have me once more,” you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves before saying the next of your sentence. “then, i’d love to be your girlfriend.”

chan’s world seems to slow down at your words, the sentence you’d just uttered seeming to have cast some sort of spell on him. it’s like everything in his surroundings fades away into silent noise or sightless objects, and he can’t stop the way his mouth falls open slightly. you want to be his girlfriend? his girlfriend? you, the absolute love of his life, the one person he never thought he could have, want to be his officially? he looks up at you dumbfounded as if you’d just presented the most disbelieving offer of all time, although he supposes you kind of have done that honestly.

“i mean, it’s fine if that’s not what you want.” your voice drags him out of his thoughts, leaving him blinking as you start to blurt out more stuff in your nervous haze. “i’m aware i behaved stupidly and pushed you away for no reason, and maybe you said everything in the heat of the moment, and now that we’re done with it all, you’ve changed your mind and want nothing to do with me, and—“

now it’s chan’s turn to cut off your rambling, his body surging forward to capture your lips with his again, and it doesn’t take long before you’re succumbing to his touch much like the previous instances you’ve melted into him, eyes slipping shut as he cradles your face in his fingers delicately. his entire hold on you is gentle, like you’re a piece of expensive china that might break if he even so as much makes a sudden move. the way he embraces you is filled with tender, all-consuming love, and you think you might start crying once more if he continues with his actions.

“is this real?” he whispers against you, still in complete shock when you nod slowly as an answer to his question, a disbelieving laugh leaving him as he shakes his head. “you’re mine now? like you, the girl of my actual dreams?” his questions have you visibly relaxing, and any and all doubt physically leaves you as you smile back at him in approval, laughing when he hugs you tightly to his chest. “i’m so fucking lucky.” chan breathes out in content, leaving you to simply bury your flustered face into his neck at the way he sounds so utterly in awe.

“ah, wait, no.” he suddenly starts, pulling back to look at you. his curls stick messily over his eyes, and you move to brush them back under his signature hat to get a clearer look at the features of the man you’ve fallen so deep for. “i have to ask you properly to commemorate the occasion.” he purses his lips, mustering up a serious expression that basically makes you simper, far too blinded in love to even point out or make fun of how silly he’s being. because that’s just chan. your chan.

“y/n l/n,” chan clears his throat, taking your hand in his and holding it over his rapidly beating heart which you can feel thumping under your palm. “will you do the honour of letting me be your boyfriend?” he asks, eyes twinkling when you giggle, so enamoured that you can’t resist leaning your forehead against his, nodding instantly.

“i’d love nothing more, bang christopher chan.”

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

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togeppy · 1 year ago

Text

the waiting game ;

tsukishima kei x reader

reader is childhood friends with tsukki, and has an ongoing bit where she'll ask him out periodically. she's grown used to him saying no, and doesn't expect it when he actually says yes.

You would easily consider Tsukishima Kei your closest friend. You grew up on the same street, went to the same schools, and were in the same class on multiple occasions, so your frequent proximity had forced the two of you to become very familiar with one another. Though he had a personality that others may find sour, knowing him for so long meant that you had seen every version of him, and knew that there was more to him than the reputation that he had gained. Sure, he was arrogant and standoffish a vast majority of the time, but you knew that he was also kind and considerate towards those he cared about.

You didn't think that it was possible to gain feelings for a friend so close to you, but over the years you couldn't help but find yourself growing more and more intrigued with the idea of being in a relationship with your best friend. You cherished the friendship that the two of you had, but you couldn't help but wish that it could blossom into something more. Even as a child, you knew you wanted to make a move, but were held back by the fear that he would take it negatively, and you would lose a friend that meant the world to you. Sure, you both had other friends outside of each other, but a life without Tsukishima Kei by your side was not something you wanted to risk.

The first time you asked him out was a joke to test the waters. The situation had been perfectly laid out for you, so you figured you might as well give it an attempt.

At twelve years old, you, Tsukki, and your deskmates sat chatting about how White Day was approaching, with some members of the conversation more enthusiastic than others. One boy excitedly announced that he had started dating another girl in the class, and was planning on surprising her with candy on the special day. One by one, each of the boys rattled off who they wanted to give a present on the holiday, while the girls helped pitch ideas on how they could make their surprises even better.

"Who are you getting a present for, Tsukishima?" a voice sounded next to you, a bright eyed girl addressing the one member of the circle who had not made a contribution.

Tsukki stared blankly at her, before shaking his head, "No one, I don't have a girlfriend."

The boy seated next to him accusingly pointed a finger in his direction. "There's gotta be someone you want to get a gift for. It's White Day, this is your chance to get one!"

Your best friend scoffed, folding his arms in defiance. "It's a made up holiday, and a girlfriend right now would be a waste of time and money. Why would I buy chocolates for someone I don't have any interest in?"

Sounds of protest came from everyone sitting at the table. Upon hearing his thoughts, you supposed that should have been a clear enough answer to whether or not he had an interest in anyone, but you couldn't help but think that he was only staying quiet because you were present at the table. While somewhat disappointed, you knew that this was your chance to prod him further and get a more concrete answer.

"Date me, I'm your best friend and I'll gladly take the chocolates," you half-joked, trying to play it off as cool as a twelve year old possibly could.

Your answer came quickly, not in the form of an answer, but in the ease of him brushing you off, not even considering the possibility that you could genuinely mean what you had just said.

"I'm not getting anything for anyone, find someone else to buy your chocolates."

Following that conversation, it had been a whole year before you took another chance at proposing the idea of a relationship, fearing that you would be shot down once again. It was a similar situation; the environment had given you the chance to casually slide the idea into the conversation, and you couldn't give up the opportunity.

You and now-thirteen-year-old Tsukishima Kei stood in a convenience store on your way home from school, picking out snacks after you had spent a long day with your clubs at school. You were in the art club and had to take home a painting that you had done on a disproportionately large canvas. As you decided you wanted a barbecue pork bun, Tsukki picked yours up on your behalf, seeing as your hands were fully occupied with your artwork. Standing at the till, he gave the payment to the store owner, an elderly man with a strong gaze, and took the bag that was handed to him in return.

"Young man, why don't you give the food to your girlfriend and carry that massive painting for her instead?" the elderly man chimed as the two of you began to pull away from the counter.

Both your eyes widened, and you could see that the taller boy's cheeks had gone slightly red at being criticized by the man before you, along with the realization that you had been incorrectly identified as his girlfriend. He opened his mouth in protest, but the store owner gave him a pointed look, forcing him to place the bag back on the counter and take the painting from your arms. A large grin broke out on your face as you picked up the buns and gave the man a toothy smile while the two of you gave him a small bow before exiting the store.

"That's more like it," you heard the owner's voice carry from behind you as the doors to exit the store chimed while you walked into the evening air.

The second you were out of earshot of the man, you broke out into laughter, immediately turning to the boy who had turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Hear that Kei? Carry the massive painting for your girlfriend," you mocked, taking your bun out of the bag and taking a bite, ensuring to make a grand show of the amount of freedom your arms had in that moment.

"Tsk," was the only response heard from the boy as he turned his face away from you to try and hide the red that was slowly disappearing from his cheeks.

"I say we should start dating so that you can become my personal artwork carrier," you quipped as you skipped ahead of him along your path.

"Never going to happen," his voice sounded from behind you, unamused.

"Go out with me!" you called back, continuing to skip ahead of him.

"No."

That incident had begun the joke that ran between the two of you. You would ask him out, and he would respond with some form of deadpan denial. Your friends had grown accustomed to it, expecting you to make the joke from time to time. On the days you spent with both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the shorter boy would even occasionally play along.

"What in the world is that poster for?" you asked one day, noting an obnoxiously coloured poster stuck to a pole near the corner where you and Tsukishima split off from Yamaguchi on your paths home.

"A couples dancing competition," the green haired boy read off with a laugh.

"I wonder what the turnout would be, based on how ugly that poster is," your best friend commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the image before the three of you.

"The two of you should sign up," Yamaguchi responded jokingly, matching the smile that was growing across your face, "It would be a sight."

"You're so right, both of our incredibly above average dancing skills would blow the competition away," you joked, "the only thing we're missing is being an actual couple."

"I'm not going out with you."

"It was worth a shot."

As you grew older, the two of you continued to remain best friends. You had shared sentiments over schoolwork, had jokes shared between each other, and you knew the ins-and-outs of each others' lives. You were closer than ever, but the fact that you two had only grown closer meant that it hurt even more that the two of you wouldn't be anything more than friends. As far as you were concerned, he only thought of you as a cherished friend, and all the times you had asked him out were nothing more than a gimmick resulting from a comfort level obtained from your level of friendship. You loved having him as a friend, but as you grew older and more mature, your feelings grew with you, and your childhood crush developed into infatuation with the boy living down the street.

When high school came around, you both joined Karasuno together, acknowledging that it made sense for you to attend the same school once again. After the incident when you were thirteen, he had formed a habit of helping you carry your larger paintings on the walk home, and in turn you feigned some interest in the volleyball club, hearing what he and Yamaguchi had to say about their matches.

When the boys volleyball team qualified for the finals of their tournament, you joined your school in supporting your two friends as they faced the top school in the prefecture. You were one of many loud voices cheering the boys on, though you liked to believe that amongst them all, you were cheering the loudest. When Tsukishima made the first block against the opposing ace, you felt a burning pride to see the boy you liked finally begin to show some emotion on the court, your excitement visible from the stands.

Though you didn't understand the game well, it had you on your toes; everything that took place was crucial to the boys' success in the game. So encapsulated by the gameplay, and cheering on the series of blocks that Tsukki had done only moments before, you were confused when murmurs started to pass through the crowd and the players began to crowd around the tall blonde. It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was injured and was gripping his hand while the others spoke to him. Concerned, you left your spot amongst your classmates and approached his brother, who had a matching look of concern etched upon his face.

"Akiteru, did you see what happened? Is Kei injured?" you questioned, standing next to the older Tsukishima brother.

"I hope not," he muttered back, eyes carefully watching what was going on below.

You both watched intently as your friend wrapped a towel around his hand and began to walk towards the gymnasium exit.

"C'mon, let's go see what happened," he stated, as you both left the stands along with the first-year Karasuno manager to go meet his younger brother. Walking down the steps you could feel the anxious energy radiating off of all of you, and you tried to shake it off so that the injured boy would not sense it too. The three of you met him outside the doors of the gym.

"Kei, are you okay?" you asked, somewhat redundantly; of course he wasn't 'okay' if he was leaving the game because of an injury.

"I'm fine," he quipped back, trying to act more nonchalant than you could tell he felt inside. You observed your friend as he had a back and forth with his brother over his physical state. He commented on how it was nice to rest after all the sets- you could tell that there was some truth to the statement, but you could also see that he had finally found his groove, and really wanted to be back in the game. As he began to walk away, you could see the frustration emanating from his stance, and you and his brother decided to follow him and the older manager to the infirmary.

You ran up to catch him, and walked alongside Tsukki, Kiyoko and Akiteru. You walked in silence, knowing that the middle blocker was busy ruminating on the events of the game, and could only think of getting back on the court, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise. As the four of you arrived at the infirmary, you sat beside him and the two others stood near the door behind you while the nurse took a look at his hand. You could tell that he was scared that the nurse would announce his hand was too severely injured and he would have to sit out the remainder of the match.

To try and ease some of the nerves that he would be feeling, you grabbed his non-injured hand and gave it a small squeeze.

"I'm sure it's fine and you'll be back soon," you whispered so that only he could clearly hear, "and once you get back, you'll win the game and go to nationals."

You gave him a small encouraging smile, finally meeting his eyes, and for a few moments the boy did nothing but stare back at you.

After a short pause he finally responded with a nod, "I hope so," before dropping his eyes as the nurse analyzed and dressed his wounds. The remainder of the visit, you four sat in silence, the volleyball player evidently deep in thought over what he would do when he returned to the match, however his eyes occasionally fluttered away, as if something were distracting him.

Soon, his finger had been wrapped and immobilized, and the nurse announced that he would be allowed to return to the game. The four of you sprung up, and began jogging back to the gym, Tsukki slightly out-pacing the rest of you. You and Akiteru stood by the doors as the other two ran to the coach to explain his condition and request that he be put back in the game. You and the other Tsukishima brother ran back up to the stands to watch upon seeing him take a seat on the bench, the substitution card in his hand.

You watched as the remainder of the match unfolded, Tsukki back on the floor, knowing that he was still in pain though he tried to hide it. You didn't think it was possible, but you were even more captivated by the game in front of you, every movement drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your seat, more and more in awe of your best friend’s tenacity. When the final point was scored and Karasuno were announced as the winners, you jumped out of your seat, cheers and hollers all around you as your entire section cheered on the victory of your school's team.

The victory party had begun, with Karasuno staff and students overjoyed alike, excitement filling the air. The team bowed to your cheering section, and you let out more cheers to your two friends before you. You first made eye contact with Yamaguchi, who had found you in the crowd sooner and you gave him a smile and a thumbs up to show your congratulations. Noticing his teammate's line of vision, your best friend found you as well and you beamed even more, changing your thumbs up into a heart that you made with both your hands. You could almost hear the half-laugh, half-scoff that came from the boy as he immediately turned away from your antics. You couldn't help but laugh as well when you turned away from your seat and started to join the crowd that had begun to trickle out of the stands.

When everyone had finished mingling in the lobby, you excused yourself from your other friends to go greet the volleyball players who were dispersed outside the gym. You easily spotted the blond head of hair that stood taller and slightly apart from his teammates, the green-haired boy nowhere in sight.

You decided that the best course of action to get his attention was to launch yourself at his back. So you did, and he let out a yelp as he caught you behind him, a small exasperated laugh being let out. You let go of him and gave him a proper hug, but from the front, despite his protests.

"What did I say, go back soon, win the game, go to nationals," you said matter-of-factly, pointing a joking finger in his face once you had finally freed him of the hug, "I think I can see the future."

"I mean we were already so close to winning, the prediction was right in your face," the boy responded sassily, obviously trying to get back at your outrageous remark.

"I don't know, I think I have a gift," you continued joking, "I'll show up to all of the nationals games and start predicting who's going to win, just you wait and see."

"There are too many games going on, you'd never go to them all," the boy responded, trying to shut down your new aspirations.

"No, I'll do it, just you wait and see. I'll go to all of yours too, up until you win it all."

"You'd look like a stalker, the crazy fan of Karasuno who won't leave us alone."

"Hmm... no," you responded back, "The best course of action is for us to start dating because then I would no longer be a crazed fan and instead a loyal girlfriend there to support my boyfriend."

"Mhm okay."

"And then if anyone asks I could just say that I... wait did you just say okay?"

You had continued on your rambling, so focused on the dumb situation that you had thought up, that you had completely failed to notice the boy's response, or the way that he had been looking at you since the moment you had met him outside the gym.

He now stood, smiling smugly at you, and you realized that while you had been going on and on, he had been looking down at you, a newfound admiration on his face. You couldn't say when exactly the change had been made, but you realized now that he was looking at you in a way that he had never once before, and you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach.

"I did say okay," he stated plainly, placing a hand on the top of your head, making light of the fact that he towered over you.

You were speechless and could do nothing but stare back at him in confusion.

"After all this time, did you want me to say no again?" he asked, when almost a whole minute passed without a response from you.

"NO, no not at all," you said finally, accepting that he wasn't just messing with you and actually meant it, "it just caught me off guard."

The boy removed his hand from your head and smiled once again, less smug this time.

"Okay, so now I'm expecting you to show up to all our games at nationals and be the supportive girlfriend cheering me on constantly."

"Girlfriend already?" you retorted, once again taking his non-injured hand in yours, the difference being that now he held it as well, the feelings no longer one sided, "What happened to taking a girl out on a few dates before claiming that title?"

"Did you really ask me out all those times just to not even want to be called my girlfriend?" he asked back, eyes narrowing in disbelief at the comment that you just made.

"Nevermind, girlfriend it is."

Bonus:

A week had passed since the volleyball team had won the game against Shiratorizawa. The boys had been busy following the win, so you finally had a moment to treat both your friends to a congratulatory dinner. The three of you walked in the direction of the restaurant on a Sunday, with you standing in between your two friends. You passed a hideous poster, identical to the one that the three of you had previously joked about.

"Now that we've mastered volleyball, I think it's time for you two to take up dancing seriously," Yamaguchi smiled, recalling the previous joke that you had made over the poster.

"I wholeheartedly agree," you said back, "this time we even meet the couple criteria."

Yamaguchi stopped walking, turning to look at the two of you. You innocently looped your arm into Tsukki's, though your boyfriend stood still, no reaction evident on his face or through his body language.

A few seconds passed before Yamaguchi unfroze and continued walking, a smile now plastered on his face.

"Congratulations," was all he said at first, before he finished his train of thought, "but it was really about time."

#tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukki x reader #tsukki x you #tsukishima kei x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader #togeppys

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aymanfamily · 4 months ago

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Evacuation of my Neurological Patient Brother 🥹🙏

Dear Friends and Supporters,

I’m reaching out to you today, on behalf of my husband, with an urgent request for assistance. My family is currently facing an unimaginable situation as I desperately seek to evacuate them from the ongoing crisis in Gaza including my brother-in-law, who is a neurological patient, and my mother-in-law who is 70 years old, and she is not only grapples with the challenges of aging but also shoulders the burden of chronic illnesses, including high blood pressure and diabetes. My brother-in-law's condition requires specialized medical care, as he suffers from a benign tumor in the cerebellum. He underwent two major surgeries to remove the tumor, and an internal valve was installed to drain the cerebrospinal fluid.

This operation led to a permanent disability in movement and stiffness in the muscles of the legs, especially the left side. He needs constant follow-up and permanent rehabilitation treatment, as he was receiving two physical therapy sessions weekly to relieve muscle stiffness, but since the beginning of the aggression on the Gaza Strip (more than 4 months ago), he has not received this service, and in the same context, he needs daily medication which is simply not available now in Gaza, as the healthcare system in the Gaza Strip has been severely impacted by the ongoing conflict, with limited resources and a shortage of medical supplies. It is crucial that we act quickly to evacuate him to a safer location where he can receive the necessary medical attention and support, in addition to the evacuation of 6 other members of my family.

As many of you may be aware, Gaza has been experiencing a devastating humanitarian crisis for years. The recent Israeli aggression on the Gaza Strip has worsened the situation, leaving innocent civilians trapped and in desperate need of help. Knowing that we live in Gaza City, but the Israeli occupation army forced us to evacuate our homes and move to the center or south of the Gaza Strip. We left our home on 13th Oct. 2023 and moved to the center of the Gaza Strip, which was supposed to be a safe area, but then the Israeli soldiers began military operations in the central region. Therefore, we were forced to move to Rafah, living in a house including 20 members. Currently the Israeli Occupation Forces are threatening to invade Rafah, where 1.4 million people are taking refuge in an area of 55 km2. If Rafah is invaded, more massacres will be committed in addition to the massacres that were and are currently being committed in all areas of the Gaza Strip. Note that our house was directly hit by a missile, and currently the Israeli army does not allow us to return to Gaza city and to our homes, in addition to the fact that Gaza currently does not have the minimum necessities of life, such as electricity or clean water, in addition to the scarcity of resources. So, in an attempt to save our lives, we are planning to evacuate to Egypt, but the cost of evacuation is exorbitant, far beyond what our family can afford, therefore I'm setting up a GoFundMe campaign to raise USD $59,000. Here is the breakdown of the funds: • A total of USD $49,000 is estimated to cover the expenses associated with obtaining permits to leave Gaza, as well as crossing fees at Rafah, at the Egypt-Gaza border. This amount breaks down to USD$ 5,000 - $7,000 per person (7 people). • It is estimated that USD $10000 will be sufficient to cover the basic needs of my family in Egypt, including their accommodation, food, and other essential. Every donation, no matter how big or small, will make a difference. Even the smallest contribution can help us an inch closer to our goal of saving our life. Knowing that times are tough, and the invasion of Rafah could happen at any time, noting that the crossing with Egypt is in the city of Rafah, and it is possible that the crossing will be closed at any time due to the invasion, so I hope you help as soon as possible. Many thanks in advance for your contribution to save our lives.

My gofundme link:

Thanks for your trust and support ❤️🙏

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misstycloud · 1 year ago

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Yandere arranged fiancé x reader

You’re the sole daughter of the famous (l/n) family; big corporations, monopolisation and seemingly endless wealth are all words associated with your family. You have lived well your entire life and will for the rest of it, too. You have never been denied of anything, whether it be new clothes, makeup or whatever new hobby had caught your interest at the moment- except for the chance to take over the business after your father.

Unfortunately, despite how loving your family could be, they still held on to old traditions and ideas. One of which was that the large portion of the inheritance should go to the son. No matter how hard you try or how much you plead, you will never inherit the companies.

Your family doesn’t understand. They believe you should be content with your position- of course you know you’re incredibly privileged, but you hoped do be able to contribute to something instead of just sitting around forever. It made things meaningless. Did you only exist to become someone’s wife?

You barely remembered the first time you met him. You were around seven and he was ten. Despite your foggy recollection of what you two did that day, you did recall the expression on his face; emptiness and indifference. It was the day before that you heard the word fiancé for the first time. You didn’t know what it really meant, but thanks to your parents guidance, you understood it meant you two are going to be together for the rest of your lives.

Your parents had a couple whom they’ve been close friends for a long time, and it just so happened they had a son a little over your age. They were rich, just like you. So why not marry you two when you got older?

The first impression you had of him was of the oddnes he carried with him. He never smiled, never cried and barely spoke. He only lest he’d you with that blank look on his face. At least he played with you. Well, it depends on if it could be called playing, considering it was you dragging him around and demanding he humour you. Looking back at it, you feel bad for him having to endure the torture of a child’s endless energy. However, he didn’t complain at all and kept passing the ball after you continued sending it his way.

Whatever ‘I’m happy so I’m gonna make you happy with my happiness’- magic you had in your youth did eventually rub off on him. The change was evident in more ways in one. He started smiling- albeit they were small- and even gave the occasional chuckle. After that you became friends for real and it wasn’t forced as it’d felt in the beginning. This positive shift served as a strong motivator for both your parents’ willingness to have you wed. You supposed you would be rather devastated as well if your one and only child had come out with the emotional constipation your fiancé had, so you understood their encouragement. They treated you like some miracle cure.

You were content with your life and arrangement for years. That was until you got older and began actually thinking about your situation in detail. Your ambitions and needs also grew and you found yourself wishing to work to make your family greater; to put down the sweat and blood your ancestors had to give you the life you had now. But it was simply a dream, one that wouldn’t come true. You would never forget the confused- almost mocking-disbelief your mother and father showed you when you asked to inherit the company.

“Sweetie, why’d you ever be interested in such things?” Your mother asked. “Simply relax and enjoy the life you have now- the life your husband will continue to provide for you.”

You looked towards your father, hoping he would support you in any shape or form but he nodded in agreement with your mother.

“She’s right, dear.”

He was never a man of many words, however you a single sentence you knew the topic was done with.

While you had no doubt they loved you, they certainly didn’t understand you either. They couldn’t fathom why you weren’t content with your life and didn’t wish for your partner to take care of everything.

You spiraled afterwards. You could have everything and nothing at once. It was a strange feeling and it left you feeling angry. And that anger had to be directed at something: your fiancé. You began thinking he was the source of your misfortune. Because of him you would lose your freedom and have to live by his restrictions and rules for the rest of your life. Once you turn (y/o) you’ll have to marry him no matter your opinion. You would solely be his.

There was still time before your wedding and you’d be damned if you couldn’t live how you wanted until then. In an attempt of rebellion you moved out of your family’s estate and into an apartment of your own. (They agreed because they thought you desired to spend some alone time with your fiancé without them being near) You also stopped responding to his calls; he’d been calling every week to get updates on how things were going. You simply put your phone on silent mode whenever his name popped up. After the fifth time of calling, you blocked his number in great annoyance. Why couldn’t he just leave you be? You’re not ten anymore, you don’t have to talk every second of the day, ugh.

After a couple weeks with your new living conditions, another thought hit you. If you were going to be tied down to one man forever, why not meet as many as you can right now? And so you started going out more, inviting your friends to go clubbing and perhaps find someone interesting. More weeks followed, with a new guy in your apartment every month. Some stayed for the night only, while some preferred to stay a little longer. However, they all left as quickly as they’d come when you’d mention your engagement. Either they didn’t want to get tangled up in some lovers drama or they’d cuss you out for being a cheater. Were you one? Whatever, you thought, it doesn’t count if you don’t love each other- which you didn’t.

But one day, completely unforeseen by you, he swung by your new apartment. He’d been worried about you. Almost three months had gone by without a single word from you. He believed you might’ve gotten in an accident. Suddenly, you felt ashamed. It was strange, you hadn’t felt anything like it earlier. But now you did. You realised that your sweet, innocent fiancé wasn’t the root of your problems. You need to stop directing your anger at the wrong person. You explained everything, about how you felt and why you ignored him for so long.

You profusely apologised to him a million times when he found out about the others you’d been spending time with. You would never forget the look on his face that day when he found out. It was cold- colder than you’d ever seen him. Of course, he was like that to most, but never to you. In the end, he chose to forgive you. He told you that he understood and that it was fine; you weren’t wed yet and it was natural that you wanted to explore. You swore that you’d stop and make it up to him, while he said it wasn’t necessary, you hadn’t actually done anything wrong. You also swore that you’d be loyal to him and that you’d never do anything behind his back when you’re legally married. Thankfully, he appeared to believe you.

However, you wished you could’ve foreseen what would happen next. Nowhere in your mind, did you think you’d find yourself in your luxurious bathroom, staring at the two red lines of a pregnancy test. Eapecially when your fiancé didn’t have a part in it.

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#oc #yandere oc #male yandere #obsessed #possesive #misstycloud oc #toxic #yandere x reader #yandere husband #yandere male #yandere #yandere oc x reader #rich yandere #yandere Laurent oc #misstycloud Laurent oc #rich reader #rich yandere x rich reader #pregnant reader

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vigilante-3073 · 4 months ago

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The Scholar & The Hunter

Jeremy Gilbert x Female Human Reader

Summary: Jeremy gets the hunter's mark after Connor was killed by Elena. He realizes the importance of the person he needs to protect.

Y/N L/N and Jeremy Gilbert had always been incredibly close. They were in the same grade and both had an affinity for art, but there were also some distinct differences between them. Y/N was an academic who took her studies incredibly serious and Jeremy preferred to skip class.

Y/N didn't have a very large friend group and spent most of her time with Jeremy. Y/N suddenly found herself alone when he decided to hang out with an unfavorable crowd of drug users like Vicki Donovan.

Y/N had always liked Jeremy as something more than a friend. Elena knew and had been rooting for them for years, but Y/N never told Jeremy. They drifted apart when Jeremy found himself interested in Vicki, Anna and Bonnie.

Y/N would always be there for him, but seeing him fall for other people broke her heart.

The pair eventually found their way back to one another when Jeremy discovered the existence of the supernatural. He needed to confide in someone and found himself turning to Y/N.

Jeremy told her absolutely everything, gifting her a Vervain necklace and making her promise that she would never take it off.

Y/N quickly delved into the journals of the founding families in Mystic Falls. She made notes and categorized the information into different sections, noting which journal provided what.

Y/N also talked to Stefan while he was over at the Gilbert home, making notes about how Vampirism worked and what they could and couldn't do. Y/N had quickly come to possess a wealth of knowledge on Vampires, Werewolves, Hybrids, Witches, Originals and Doppelgangers.

Jeremy was thankful to have someone reliable beside him in such a crazy world. Y/N looked at things logically, breaking everything down into facts and consulting relevant sources for solutions.

Y/N had helped Elena, Stefan and Bonnie on multiple occasions. She brought them important information and they valued her contributions dearly.

Y/N managed to get Jeremy a job at the grill with her and Matt. They worked together almost every day and spent most of their time off together as well.

It was rare that Jeremy and Y/N were apart for more than a day, usually talking on the phone or texting when they couldn't physically be together. Y/N had almost become an expected presence in the Gilbert home over the years and it was strange to go a day without seeing her.

Jeremy wouldn't allow Y/N to come around the house after Elena became a Vampire. He was determined to keep her safe and refused to expose her to a newly transitioned Vampire.

Jeremy knew that things could take a turn for the worst when a hunter named Connor arrived in Mystic Falls. It took him less than five minutes to find Tyler and shoot him in foyer of the Lockwood home. This man clearly meant business and could completely wipe out the Hybrid and Vampire populations of Mystic Falls.

After a few close calls and a hostage situation at the Grill, Elena killed Connor in cold blood. The hunter's mark began to appear on Jeremy's body and he told Y/N immediately. She looked through every relevant source, telling him that he would need to kill a Vampire in order to stop Elena's hallucinations and expand the mark.

Jeremy killed one of Klaus' hybrids to save his sister and suddenly everything changed. He began to dream about killing Elena, looking at her with malice whenever he saw her.

Y/N noticed the change right away, recommending that he come and stay with her for a while. Jeremy began to pack a bag and quickly discovered that Elena had already moved in with the Salvatore brothers.

Jeremy was disgusted by the sheer amount of relief that filled his body. He shouldn't be happy that his sister left their home, but he couldn't help it.

He was a hunter and she was his prey, it had become his instinct to kill Vampires and he couldn't have her around him any longer.

...

Jeremy sat in his bed with his back leaned against the headboard. The house was completely silent aside from the soft clicking of Y/N's laptop keyboard as she typed and the soft scribbling of pen on paper.

She had been looking into the lore about hunters, trying to learn as much as she possibly could. The group didn't need another surprise like they had with the hunter's curse.

Jeremy watched her as she worked, sitting in his desk chair with her legs crossed. She looked through a stack of papers, making notes and searching up whatever peaked her interest.

"Hey, Y/N?" Jeremy questioned.

"Yeah," She replied, setting down her pen and looking over at him.

"Can you stay here tonight?" He asked.

"Are you flirting with me, Jeremy?" She questioned with a teasing smile.

He looked down, cheeks flushing as a small smile appeared on his face, "You know I'm always flirting with you," He replied.

"That was a very smooth response," Y/N said, turning the chair to face him, "All joking aside, do you really want me to stay?" She asked.

"Yeah, I just- I hate the silence," He said.

"So, you're saying I snore?" Y/N questioned.

Jeremy huffed a laugh, "Definitely... I want you to stay so I can listen to you snore all night," Jeremy said.

"You're lucky that I like you, Jeremy," Y/N said.

He watched her as she turned back to the desk, tidying up her papers and plugging in her laptop. Y/N stood up from the chair and Jeremy got out of the bed, he stepped over to his dresser and pulled out a shirt for her to wear.

"Elena said you can borrow whatever else you need from her," Jeremy said.

Y/N took the shirt from his hand, "Did you tell her I was staying over?" She asked.

"No, but she figured that you would," He replied.

"She knows you well," Y/N said.

"She does," Jeremy nodded.

Y/N stepped into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind herself. Jeremy sat down on the edge of his bed as he waited for her to come back.

His heart raced as he fidgeted with his hands, he had decided that tonight was when he was going to make his move. After years of pining, he was finally ready to tell her how he really felt and he hoped that she felt the same.

The hunter's mark had made him look at his life through a different lens and he realized that Y/N was incredibly important to him. Jeremy would die before he let any harm come to her, Y/N meant everything to him and he had fallen in love with her.

The door opened and he stood up, Y/N almost seemed surprised to see him standing there. She was dressed in his t-shirt and a pair of Elena's sleep shorts, but he had never seen her look more beautiful.

"Is everything okay?" Y/N asked, setting down her stack of folded clothes and giving him her undivided attention.

"I have something to tell you," He said, she nodded.

"I think I'm falling in love with you... I completely understand if you don't feel the same way, but your friendship means everything to me and I don't want to lose that," Jeremy said.

"Jeremy," Y/N started.

His stomach dropped, "Y-you don't have to say anything. We can just pretend that I never opened my mouth and keep things the same as they've always been," Jeremy said quickly, desperate to keep from hearing her rejection.

"What if I don't want to keep things the same?" Y/N asked.

"Are you- Are you saying what I think you're saying?" He questioned, eyes searching her face for any sign of dishonesty.

"Jeremy Gilbert, I have been in love with you since we were ten," Y/N stated.

He huffed a laugh, "Well, I guess it took me a little longer to figure out how I felt," Jeremy said.

"You're a guy. It usually takes you a bit longer to figure things out," Y/N teased.

Jeremy smiled, cupping her cheeks and pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Y/N rested her hands on his sides, tentatively moving her lips against his.

Jeremy pulled away, resting his forehead against hers as he brushed his thumbs across her skin gently.

"I need you to know that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. You mean everything to me, Y/N," He said softly.

"I'm a lucky girl," She smiled.

"The luckiest," Jeremy replied, returning his lips to hers in a more passionate kiss.

Jeremy pulled away, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he looked down at her, "Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked.

"Yes, of course I will," She replied.

...

Jeremy made his way down the stairs, hesitating as he heard the sound of a knife thudding gently against a cutting board. He adjusted his grip on the wooden stake in his hand as he slowly entered the kitchen.

"Morning, little Gilbert," Damon greeted, chopping up spinach.

"You shouldn't be here, Damon. If you haven't heard, I'm having a hard time not murdering Vampires lately," Jeremy stated.

"I'm willing to take the chance," Damon stated. He lifted up the cutting board and swept the ingredients into a bowl of raw eggs.

"Elena told me that you were having a sleepover with Y/N," Damon said, stirring the mixture with a fork as he turned towards the stove.

"Why do you care?" Jeremy questioned.

"I'm just nosy by nature," Damon smirked, dumping the mixture into the hot skillet. It sizzled softly as he placed the bowl into the sink.

"I could hear you two getting wet and wild in the shower when I came in. Elena's gonna be elated to hear that her little brother has finally admitted his feelings," Damon said.

"Why are you even here, Damon?" Jeremy asked.

"I'm making fritatta," Damon stated simply.

"What's the real reason?" Jeremy questioned.

Y/N made her way down the stairs, she paused in the doorway when she noticed the stake in Jeremy's hand.

"Is everything okay?" Y/N asked.

"Everything is great, I'm making fritatta," Damon said.

"Ooh, I love your fritatta," Y/N said, stepping around Jeremy and taking a seat at the kitchen island.

"She loves my fitatta," Damon repeated with a smile.

Jeremy shifted on his feet, feeling tense at the sight of Y/N being close to a Vampire. Damon picked up a bowl of strawberries, reaching out to place them down in front of Y/N.

Jeremy took a quick step forward, breath speeding up as he raised the stake slightly. Damon glanced at him, setting the bowl down on the countertop.

"Fresh from the market," He said, returning to the stove.

Damon moved the skillet into the oven to finish cooking, leaning against the counter and watching Y/N eat some of the fresh fruit.

"You two had sex then?" He questioned.

"Damon," Jeremy snapped.

"We did," Y/N replied simultaneously.

"Why would you tell him that?" Jeremy asked, Y/N shrugged.

"He's less annoying when you're honest," She stated.

"Good for you. Some time doing the horizontal tango might take his mind off those murderous tendencies," Damon said.

"We'll keep at it then," Y/N replied, biting into another strawberry.

"Speaking of those killer instincts, we might have figured out a way around that," Damon stated.

"Really? What is it?" Y/N asked.

"Bonnie's witchy teacher dude. He knows a lot about hunters and he thinks that hypnosis can help change how Jeremy responds to the urges," Damon said.

"Does Elena know?" Y/N questioned.

"She does. But she thought it should be more of a phone call rather than a face to face convo because of your affinity for sharp wooden objects," Damon stated, sending Jeremy a smile.

"Where are we meeting him?" Y/N asked.

"The lake house. Elena and I are going to come up at game time, but Bonnie and Shane will join you around noon," Damon said.

"Just enough time for fritatta," Y/N smiled.

"My thoughts exactly," Damon replied.

#jeremy gilbert #jeremy gilbert imagine #jeremy gilbert x reader #jeremy gilbert x female reader #jeremy gilbert x fem oc #jeremy gilbert x oc #jeremy gilbert x original character #tvd #the vampire diaries #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries x reader #vampire diaries x reader #vampire diaries imagine #vampire diaries #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #elena gilbert

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jenscx · 8 months ago

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HIT ME UP — uchinaga aeri

aeri’s never had much luck with love. countless blind dates, dating apps, mutual friends, nothing came out of those. but wait, who is that girl in her best friend’s instagram and why is she so pretty?

tags fluff, no angst, non-idol au, open your eyes to see jiminjeong, mutual pining (for literally a sec), cursing, aeri pov centric

wordcount 6.0k

🎙️ author’s note: happy aeri day! lots of love to our favourite hot girl gigi 🤍 can’t express how much i love aeri and her contribution to aespa as a member >< i hope that everyone enjoys reading this fic and for aeri to enjoy her birthday!

uchinaga aeri, half-japanese and half-korean, age twenty three, has never dated anyone before in her life. well, not officially. she doesn’t really count the situationships or talking stages she’s had. aeri would say that the lack of love in her life would be due to her bougie choices in character. her taste is just a little more refined, detailed, specialised, whatever you want to call it. jimin calls it picky while yizhuo applauds her for knowing what she wants in a partner.

something that definitely attracted her would be a strong personality, a little bold and courageous but also sweet and caring. isn’t that a nice criteria to have? aeri doesn’t think she’s asking for much here. yet, her simple standards seem a reach too far compared to the personalities she’s met lately. even jimin can’t help but wince at the blind dates aeri has gone on.

because aeri loves everyone, as long as they’re pretty, she’s been on dates with many, regardless of gender. and well, she can’t really say that one outweighs the other. this one guy she met at the gym had told her she needed more tips on weightlifting and had gone into a rant about protein shakes.

needless to say, as much as she loves the gym, aeri could not really stand an hour long conversation about protein shakes of all things.

and that girl who seemed way more interested in the oat milk in aeri’s latte than her. that was a strange date. aeri scrunches her nose in distaste at the reminder. another date she’d been on, helpfully supplied by yizhuo, the girl was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. but the moment aeri had said she was a scorpio, her date started acting like aeri killed her dog. which, by the way, she never would. she loves dogs and even has two cute ones herself! and then her date had the nerve to storm out of the restaurant too. what a shitshow.

(“oh… maybe i shouldn’t be friends with her either,” yizhuo comments after aeri recites the incident to her.

“do you think she’ll burst into flames if you tell her you’re a scorpio as well?” jimin asks, so genuinely that aeri almost chokes to death while laughing.)

anyway, so what if aeri’s luck with dating is trash? her life has been fine for twenty three years and it’s not like having a partner will drastically change her for the good. she’s been enjoying this single life. she never has to update anyone about her whereabouts, she doesn’t have to reply to texts immediately, everything she buys is for herself. what a wonderful life. some call it miserable, others call it unhealthy. she calls it being free.

okay, maybe it is a little sad coming home to an empty apartment with no one to greet her. aeri does feel envious when her friends meet up and they talk about their own significant others. but that envy isn’t enough for her to throw herself down into that torturous rabbit hole of dating again. if only she had a friend that she could fall in love with or something. like a cute friends to lovers situation. or if she tripped and fell over the love of her life. the stars aligned, ‘we’re soulmates’ type.

not to mention that ever since moving back to korea from the states, her parents have been pressuring her to find someone. while korea and japan aren’t aeons apart, aeri doesn’t really have the comfort of family. her friends do offer some semblance of home but it just doesn’t feel the same. after confiding in her mother, aeri was told that a partner would fill in the gap her parents left.

she’s getting a little delirious and the idea of falling in love has become more of a chore than blessing. aeri slumps against her bedframe, scowling at her phone blowing up. if she were still on a dating app, the notifications could be due to matches or dates that were too clingy. but she’s sworn off dating apps for good and that chain of messages could only be sent by yu jimin.

jimin [6.19pm]:

omg guys

i think i just met the loml

holy shit shes so cute

im in love

can sm1 find her @

yizhuo [6.20pm]:

who

jimin [6.20pm]:

uhmmmmm

minjeong?

her cup says that

yizhuo [6.20pm]:

are you serious 😐

jimin [6.21pm]:

STOP SHES LOOKING AT ME

AAAAAAA

aeri [6.22pm]:

girl shut up

she throws her phone aside as jimin’s cries for help go unanswered. jimin breaking down would be cute if aeri wasn’t going through an existential crisis right now. the thought of never finding someone truly for her looms over her head. her whole ‘i don’t need a man’ (or woman) persona crumbles instantly the moment she reaches her bedroom. the facade falls immediately, only leaving behind a lonely girl who just has bad luck.

jimin continues to flounder around and seemingly the pings stop (aeri lets out a sigh of relief), before they come back in full force in the form of a video call.

aeri reaches for her phone and waits a few seconds just to torture jimin before picking up.

“uhm, hello?”

“oh my goodness— what is wrong with you two? have you not read my messages!” jimin whispers harshly. a grainy, pixelated version of her friend appears on screen. the only recognisable feature of jimin is her pale, glowy skin shining in the moonlight as her dark hair wisps around behind her.

staring blankly, aeri repeats, “hello?”

“hi, yes! okay, so i just met this girl and—”

yizhuo’s voice cuts through, “does it really count as meeting her though?”

aeri sees jimin rolling her eyes before she reluctantly pouts, “no, but that’s not the point. the point is that she’s really cute, like marriage-worthy cute. and i need her instagram now.”

“you think we can find it?” yizhuo asks, unamused.

“well, she was wearing our old high school jacket and you guys know a lot of people!” jimin’s logic, sometimes flawed, did make sense to aeri this time. she and yizhuo were like social butterflies back in high school and jimin’s assumption would be right.

“what was her name again?” aeri asks, just to get jimin to shut up. for a girl that was so elegant and graceful, jimin really was a loser sometimes. it was difficult at first to adjust from the girl crush jimin to the loser jimin but after being friends for so long, aeri has learnt to accept both sides of her personality.

jimin perks up, her forehead gleaming on the screen, “minjeong! isn’t it such a cute name? cute name for a cute girl… heh. she looked like a puppy too, like a tint maltese. she has short blonde hair too. almost shoulder length?”

aeri isn’t too sure on how the description of her looking like a maltese helps in their investigation but whatever floats jimin’s boat, she guesses. she watches as yizhuo disappears from the frame and jimin walks home, humming to herself.

a few minutes later, while she and jimin are discussing new hair colours, yizhuo pops back into frame, exclaiming with glee, “i found her!”

and aeri can only watch as jimin trips over air, almost in slow motion, and face plants into the ground.

“c’mon, ningie! please!” aeri widens her eyes while jimin almost gets on her knees, her hands pleading. who knew jimin would get so desperate for some girl’s instagram? definitely not aeri.

yizhuo only huffs, “i want something in return.”

“anything! really!” the older girl is so close to downright begging that aeri considers stepping in for a second before yizhuo inevitably reads out loud, “mj underscore zero one zero one and i want free lunch for the rest of the week. aeri unnie included.”

aeri grins brightly as jimin scrambles to type the username into her search bar. she fist bumps yizhuo, smiling at the thought of free food.

“oh my gosh, thank you!” jimin squeals, planting a wet kiss on yizhuo’s cheek.

“how’d you find her instagram?” aeri asks curiously. yizhuo shrugs, wiping the lipstick mark left behind coolly, “my friend follows her. asked around for a bit and now people think she owes me money or something.”

aeri stifles a giggle at that and turns her attention back to jimin, who’s still staring at her phone in awe. her fingers are fervently scrolling and swiping, tapping away on the screen. jimin’s devotion to find this mystery girl’s instagram is insane and it brings out the slightest bit of curiosity in aeri.

hence, she peeks over jimin’s shoulder and for her lacklustre description of minjeong, it’s well-fitting, surprisingly.

“she does look like a maltese,” are aeri’s first words. jimin swerves her head back, smiling widely, “i know right!”

“oh, she’s really cute,” aeri notes. minjeong is pretty, like a doll. jimin sends her a withering glare but she just ignores it. the girl is pretty, but not her type. and she definitely isn’t planning on competing in some competition for minjeong’s love alongside her own best friend.

“she’s friends with a lot of unnies,” yizhuo says, listing them off her fingers, “nayeon unnie, jeongyeon unnie, momo unnie— well, that whole friend group. jennie unnie too. and you know mijoo unnie? she’s friends with her too.”

jimin visibly deflates while aeri tries to cheer her up, “but they’re all friends only though, right?”

yizhuo nods, “yup, i haven’t heard of minjeong ever dating anyone either.”

her comment resonates with aeri and a small part of her commends minjeong for not succumbing to the horrors of dating.

with aeri’s words of encouragement, jimin continues to scroll, albeit slower now and not as enthusiastic. she eventually reaches the end of all of minjeong’s posts and hastily scrolls back up.

“check her highlights too,” aeri demands, terribly invested. jimin follows suit, clicking on the first story highlight. it’s full of food that has aeri salivating and jimin swallowing her saliva. yizhuo only watches on, uninterested.

then, jimin clicks on one that’s named ‘solos’ and aeri hears her choke up. the highlight is filled with selfies and photos of minjeong. all very cute and adorable. she internally rolls her eyes and begs jimin to hurry through the stories instead of staring intently at each one. minjeong’s feed is nice, aeri thinks. it’s clean and simple but it still shows enough of her personality.

when jimin finally swipes to the last highlight, aeri’s jaw visibly drops.

“oh my god,” she gapes, snatching jimin’s phone away into her own hands, “who is that?”

“hey! give it back!”

“stop it!” aeri swats jimin’s hand away and with miraculous strength, evades all of her reaches and manages to zoom into the story. minjeong, her face propped up by her palm, and next to her, aeri believes is aphrodite reincarnated. bright doe eyes, pouty lips— oh, aeri might be in love.

she was about to discover if it was possible to lose her voice solely from screaming inside her head.

“oh shit, do you think that’s her girlfriend?” jimin gasps as soon as she sees the story as well and the fight for her phone goes forgotten. they both stare in bewilderment at the photo.

yizhuo eventually pries their fingers off jimin’s phone, sneering, “close your mouth, both of you. she’s y/n.”

aeri jumps into action at her words, “you know this girl? who is she? what’s her name?”

“calm down, damn.”

“sorry— this is the literal love of my life?”

jimin frowns, “that’s what i said about minjeong and you called me deluded.”

ignoring jimin.

“i don’t know her, i know of her,” yizhuo rolls her eyes again. aeri purses her lips at the brattiness of the youngest. since when was their baby so sassy? maybe jimin was too irritating. aeri would understand if that were the case.

“just stalk her account. minjeong definitely tagged her somewhere or she’s in the comments,” jimin suggests.

aeri hollers, “you’re a genius!” it’s her first time saying that to jimin.

through sheer determination and will (yizhuo calls it stupidity), she manages to find minjeong replying to a certain commenter.

mj_0101 been away

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1eeyn i see how it is.. no creds at all

↳ mj_0101 photo creds to my bae

“bae?! jimin— oh my fucking god!” aeri screeches and thank god they’re in jimin’s room and not in public. yizhuo has the gall to cover her ears even though aeri’s been on the receiving end of her dolphin shrieks before.

equally distressed, jimin lets out a choked sob, “of course the pretty girls are dating!”

“guys, i just said they’re only friends.”

“and how do you know that?!”

yizhuo shoots a glare and jimin immediately cowers beside aeri.

“because i know them, duh. y’all are stupid. the moment you two see pretty girls it’s like your ability to think disappears.”

well that, aeri can’t disagree. her brain had no thoughts when she first saw minjeong’s story. just sunshine and rainbows. maybe the distant chiming of wedding bells. or a white, sparkly dress with a long train.

as she gets lost in her thoughts, jimin pries her fingers away from the phone, detaching them carefully. when aeri frowns at her action, the older one merely shrugs, “stalk her on your own phone.”

begrudgingly, she does so, searching up this mystery girl’s instagram. it’s pretty empty, mostly just pictures of nature and food. sometimes she throws in a selfie that makes aeri’s heart clench.

“fuck,” she groans, feeling her throat choke up, “she’s so my type.”

jimin nods in agreement even though aeri’s sure she didn’t hear a word she said. yizhuo rolls her eyes (how many times has she done that?).

“you think she’s into girls?” aeri asks, showing yizhuo a story highlight of some vinyls with clairo’s one right at the front.

“maybe. i don’t know her too well. i heard she’s kind of scary though, like cold and intimidating. she punched someone for picking on minjeong once.”

aeri lets out a huff, one of sheer amazement. lord knows she needs a woman who can fight.

“aeri-ah,” jimin suddenly calls out from her bed.

“yes?”

she gulps, swallowing harshly, “if you text her, i’ll text minjeong.”

yizhuo hums, “you two do that.”

she mulls it over. texting this pretty girl? who’s insanely her type? maybe. what if you were an asshole though? she’s not too sure about whether minjeong would be friends with you if you were mean but she thinks back to your face.

god, she needs you biblically.

“okay, let’s get girlfriends!”

she doesn’t text you at all. it’s a little embarrassing to admit but aeri’s scared! what if she just gets ignored? she couldn’t get her ego bruised like that. and jimin’s no help either! constantly texting her to dm you first even though aeri knows that jimin stares at the empty private chat with minjeong every night.

what she does do is first of all, create another account that’s completely blank, void of any recognition for aeri. then she watches your stories. on repeat. and on one uneventful tuesday, your profile lights up with a ring around it. aeri can’t help herself from viewing it immediately.

and maybe she shouldn’t have, since she’s seething by the time yizhuo texts her.

yizhuo [1.43pm]:

hey guys…

has any1 seen y/n’s story?

jimin [1.44pm]:

minjeong’s account is burned into my screen

but no ☺️

aeri [1.44pm]:

i’m gonna kill myself

jimin [1.46pm]:

😨⁉️

she almost actually throws her phone this time. aeri wants to die. she wants to puke.

what the actual fuck.

her phone rings— she picks up on the first ring.

“so…” yizhuo starts awkwardly.

“what’s going on?! aeri, don’t kill yourself?! you’re my best friend and i might also die without you! i love you, aeri—”

aeri cries out, “she has a girlfriend!”

the other side of the phone goes eerily quiet before jimin’s forehead pops up on screen and her eyebrows are nearly touching her hairline.

“WHAT?!”

“she just posted a photo of her kissing some girl’s cheek!” aeri screeches.

yizhuo winces before adding unhelpfully, “her girlfriend’s pretty though.”

“not the point— also yeah, agreed. but still! what am i gonna do now?!”

jimin frowns, “you can still be friends with her, right?”

“well… i was going to try to hit her up first,” aeri pouts, feeling devastated. she hadn’t even gotten a chance to woo you, and no way was she going to get in the way of a happy relationship! aeri was many things, but she wasn’t a homewrecker.

“maybe you can salvage a friendship out of this,” yizhuo suggests thoughtfully. aeri nods. maybe she should at least try to be friends rather than pursue a romantic relationship. she needed to expand her social circle anyway from just jimin and yizhuo.

“jimin, this means you have to text minjeong now.”

“what?! i’m not ready!”

“it’s just a text! like her story or something!”

jimin stares at her through the screen, affronted. aeri connects the dots quickly enough, “wait, don’t tell me you have been liking all her stories?”

“okay, maybe i have! that’s not a crime. and she liked one of my stories back! the one i posted when we went to eat hotpot! i’m way farther in this than you are—”

aeri hangs up. she can’t deal with a gloating jimin right now.

she needs a clear mind. she needs to think about her next course of action. all that was occupying her mind during the past few days was a wedding with you, but now aeri has a few adjustments to make.

swiping back to your story, aeri frowns. she clicks to the previous one. it’s a photo of you playing with a dog, an adorable samoyed. the background has a few other dogs, so you were probably at a dog cafe.

with your girlfriend, aeri sighs.

she types out, ‘omg where is this?’ it feels friendly and innocent enough. and aeri totally knows which dog cafe you’re at. it’s a rather popular one that she has visited herself.

before aeri can even think again, she sends the message.

god, she should really stop letting jimin get to her head.

within seconds, there’s a reply that makes aeri’s heart soar.

[aerichandesu] 1eeyn

it’s winters village in hongdae!

you’re really pretty btw

score! aeri’s got this in the bag!

she enters the chat and replies with a speed that makes the flash quiver.

aerichandesu [2.10pm]:

omg thankuu 💗

you’re super cute too

you don’t reply but aeri spots the tiny green circle next to your name. you’re online. but why aren’t you replying? was there nothing to reply to? aeri feels her heart sink a little lower. the chat doesn’t pop up with another message and aeri throws her phone aside.

she can’t let a girl plague her mind! aeri’s better than this! puffing her chest out, aeri gathers all the grit and willpower she has in herself and leaves the app.

aeri continues this pattern for the next few days; every time you posted a story, she would slide up. it only started to feel a bit one-sided when you started replying with short and curt responses. maybe you got weirded out by aeri, and she wouldn’t even blame you. sometimes she would send messages at midnight and wake up in the morning, cursing the vulnerability she had previously. she would read back at the chat, cringing at her overeager attitude. even jimin called her out on it! and if even jimin found it weird, aeri must have seemed absolutely psychotic.

“girl, i think you have to stop,” yizhuo says one day.

“stop with what?” aeri asks but she knows damn well what yizhuo’s talking about. jimin’s head perks up, her cheeks stuffed with ramen that aeri so graciously cooked for her when the older had complained about her hunger.

after swallowing, jimin giggles, “your little thing with your girl.”

“uhm, what?”

“i think you’re creeping her out,” yizhuo shakes her head, “if i had this stranger, no matter how cute they are, constantly texting me first, i would be a little scared.”

aeri pouts, feeling admonished, “i haven’t texted her in two days. she isn’t interested.”

“oh thank goodness,” the chinese girl sighs in relief, “i thought you went all joe goldberg on her.”

“i’m not joe! and i would never do that to someone!”

“well, i was worried anyway.”

jimin nudges her shoulder, “there’s a lot of fish in the ocean, right?”

rolling her eyes, aeri pinches at jimin’s side, “imagine if i said that about minjeong.”

“why would you ever say that about minjeong?” jimin furrows her brows, “and i actually texted her.”

aeri shoots up, the thought of her disastrous love life long forgotten as jimin reveals this new information.

“you did?! holy shit, congrats dude!”

jimin looks away, sheepish, “i replied to her story and she said that she remembers me from school. i don’t know how i missed seeing someone like her around. she said she really likes bowling, so i’m thinking of bringing her to bowl.”

genuinely happy for her friend, aeri pats her on the back while yizhuo gives a pleased nod. aeri kind of wishes her endeavour with you could go this smoothly. she certainly doesn’t remember you from school, nor does it seem you remember her. maybe you just weren’t in the same classes.

“guess it’s just me now, huh?” aeri laughs, despite the slight embarrassment she feels from being ignored.

jimin pouts, “you’ll find someone better.”

aeri thinks of the way her heart flutters when you reply or post something new, and she thinks that she’s never felt this strongly attracted to someone before without even knowing them.

yeah, she doesn’t think she will.

aeri’s totally fine. she’s gone two weeks without even glancing at your profile and she’s okay. there were some withdrawal symptoms at first, like the increasing urge to reply to your story or like it, but aeri’s determination outweighs her adoration. thus, she lives life without ever thinking about you again.

(that was a lie. she still wonders about it at night.)

yizhuo had applauded her ‘getting over’ you and so had jimin, who was barely online nowadays because she was hanging out with minjeong. aeri’s glad her best friend has found someone she likes. and she’s over the moon that jimin has found a new victim for her teasing. apparently, minjeong had better reactions, so yizhuo and aeri cheered knowing minjeong would suffer now.

jimin had been bugging them to finally meet minjeong and hang out as a group for the longest time. aeri doesn’t know if she actually brought her to that bowling date but the restaurant they picked out is expensive and jimin’s paying. so naturally, she agrees instantly.

what jimin doesn’t say is that minjeong would be bringing someone along.

coincidentally, you.

hence, aeri’s sitting right across from you, not daring to lift her head up in fear that she might make eye contact. after acting so desperate in your dms, aeri would rather die than face you directly.

you stare at her bizarrely as minjeong introduces you to jimin’s friends.

“this is yizhuo and aeri, we all went to the same high school together,” minjeong informs you, “but i don’t think we ever crossed paths before.”

“no, we haven’t,” you confirm. aeri glances at you meekly before darting her gaze to the menu.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” yizhuo smiles sweetly, making up for the silence that aeri provided. you’re still a little confused as to why aeri wasn’t talking right now.

maybe she thinks you don’t recognise her? but you do. she’s the pretty girl that randomly popped up one day and started replying to your stories.

“nice to meet you too,” you grin, “nice to see you in person as well, aeri-ssi.”

you watch, surprised, as aeri barely acknowledges your words, only nodding slightly. wasn’t she quite bold online? why was she acting like this now?

“shall we order?” jimin asks, snapping the menu shut. after calling over the waiter, you shift your eyes back to aeri, staring appreciatively at her outfit. one thing you noticed from her instagram feed was that she dressed well. you wanted to ask her where she shops but she seemed a second away from exploding.

you whip out your phone, earning a flinch from aeri.

y/n bae [7.24pm]:

is smth wrong w aeri?

mindoongie [7.24pm]:

uhmm idk 😓

idt she’s usually like this

jiminie said she’s quite sociable

awesome. so that meant you were the problem.

resting your head on your palm, you turn your attention to yizhuo, asking, “what are you currently studying?”

“oh, i’m doing fashion design,” she answers, twirling the knife.

“that’s interesting. could you ever design something for me one day?”

yizhuo chuckles, “i’ll cast you as my model if i get big. what about you?”

“i’ll definitely pursue something in modelling but i’m studying medicine right now.”

engrossed in your conversation, you barely notice aeri’s pout. the girl seemed a little too timid and shy as to what you’ve seen online. and minjeong and jimin seemed to be talking about something else.

“y/n, are you dating anyone right now?” yizhuo asks suddenly. you falter, recalling the girl you had just broken up with a few days ago, “ah, no. not currently.”

in your haste to recover, you miss the nudge yizhuo gives go aeri.

spurred on, aeri asks, “do you have time to date while studying?”

“hm, it was manageable,” you reply, “it got tiring when she needed a lot of my time though.”

aeri stares at you wistfully before coughing.

you wonder why she asked that.

[aerichandesu] 1eeyn

hi, can u help me say thanku to jimin?

for taking care of my best friend

aeri blinks at the message. it’s the first time you’ve texted her first.

aerichandesu [10.43pm]:

sure

she still feels awkward for acting so desperate previously. it doesn’t feel right to act like that anymore. and aeri does feel a little bad for how cold she was during dinner.

1eeyn [10.44pm]:

thank u aeri chan

aeri-chan? where did that come from? suddenly, she feels the stutter in her heart resurfacing after she had tried to bury it.

1eeyn [10.45pm]:

we didn’t get to talk much, huh?

aerichandesu [10.45pm]:

no sorry

i wasn’t feeling well

it feels like the safest lie she can tell.

1eeyn [10.46pm]:

that’s a shame

are you feeling better now?

aerichandesu [10.46pm]

yes, i am

1eeyn [10.46pm]:

that’s good

rest well aeri-chan 💗

oh my god, aeri needs to text the group chat!

over the next few days, you were relentless with your texts. it felt like you and aeri had swapped roles. she didn’t know to adapt to this new side of you without seeming like a bumbling fool. you would send selfies! selfies! asking aeri for her opinion. the first time you sent one, aeri’s nose started bleeding and she scared jimin half to death, thinking aeri was dying.

(“she sent me a selfie! of her face!” aeri wails, covering her nose with bloody tissues.

jimin grimaces at the blood, “well, yes. selfies are usually of someone’s face.”)

then, you would send your outfits, or whatever you ate that day. slowly, aeri started warming up to you too and would begin to send her own photos. normally she would send photos of her dogs or jimin and yizhuo being silly. then they evolved into selfies.

aeri likes what she has with you right now. you were building up a friendship that aeri appreciated. she liked your humour and personality as well, complementing her own rather nicely. minjeong and jimin begin dating as well, making your proximity even closer as the two would constantly drag everyone to hangouts. to be frank, aeri can’t believe that this all started because jimin saw a cute girl at a cafe, but somehow, it makes sense too.

how an insignificant moment such as minjeong deciding to buy coffee that day helped aeri gain two new best friends, she would never know. but she liked it. it felt like fate. leaning on your shoulder, aeri shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“no scary movies please,” jimin begs, tugging at minjeong’s shirt. yizhuo laughs and eggs minjeong on to pick a horror film while aeri stares at her best friends affectionately.

“you like scary movies?” you whisper to aeri.

she shakes her head, already feeling shivers run down her spine at the thought of being jumpscared countless times. jimin’s reaction would be funny as hell. but no way was she sacrificing her own sanity for something like that. if she wanted jimin to go insane, she had ten other ways to do that.

“nooo not the conjuring please!”

aeri cowers into herself, dreading the night already. this was a weekly occurrence, having a movie night at jimin’s apartment. it started with just the three of them and then minjeong and you got invited soon after. the honour of picking a movie was passed down every week and aeri detests it when it’s minjeong’s turn. that girl would pick scary films just to annoy jimin and aeri always gets caught in the crossfire somehow.

“don’t worry, minjeongie wants to watch despicable me tonight. she’s just playing with jimin,” you comfort. aeri nods as minjeong hovers exceptionally long on the nun before finally moving to despicable me. jimin cheers in exhilaration and yizhuo boos.

“oh my gosh, babe! i love the minions!”

“minions and despicable me are two different movies!” yizhuo sneers. just as the movie starts, jimin, minjeong and yizhuo begin bickering. aeri knows how the argument will end— with jimin apologising and minjeong and yizhuo emerging victorious.

a gush of hot air beside her ear makes her jump, “they’re cute, aren’t they?”

aeri follows your gaze to where jimin and minjeong’s fingers are interwoven even though they’re arguing.

“yeah, silly but cute.”

you chuckle, slipping your hand into aeri’s under the blanket, “we can’t lose to them, right?”

she gets caught off guard for just a second before bouncing back.

“no, i’ll never lose to jimin.”

your laugh makes aeri’s cheeks heat up slightly. as you ramble on about the movie, she listens to every word attentively, wanting to savour the smoothness and richness of your voice. her smaller hand stays tight in your bigger one, feeling the warmth emitting from your palm.

aeri’s heart feels content.

she’s happy here, being friends with you.

unfortunately (or fortunately), the friendship doesn’t last for long.

after that particular movie night, aeri has noticed a change in your behaviour. you’ve become touchier, for lack of a better term. more lingering touches around her shoulder, hands, waist, wrists, wherever her skin was. you would gaze into her eyes before smiling shyly and looking away. you would offer to bring her lunch even though she knows you’re busy with your internship. not to mention the influx of messages. if aeri thought your selfies were bad for her heart before, it resembled a tsunami drowning her heart now.

photos, of every kind, most of them in your scrubs and uniform, smiling at the camera gleefully, as if you weren’t working an all-nighter. and on your off-days, aeri finds you staying up to talk to her. she’s busy during the day, so she doesn’t really check her phone often. when she finally does, she’s welcomed by your chat. the once intimidating girl that she admired online had turned into the girl that camped in her dms.

she had asked before, why you would text her so much. your response had been equally confusing, asking her back if she wanted you to stop. of course not. the aeri a few months ago wished for days that you would reply with more than four words. now, it seemed like you constantly had paragraphs of stories to tell her. not that she was complaining.

then, one day, the messages stop. aeri’s a little bewildered when she checks her phone and nothing’s there but she goes to bed anyway. maybe you were working a really long shift? sometimes she would catch you at four in the morning, so perhaps you were catching up on some much needed sleep.

but when she wakes up the next day, there’s only a lone message asking for her to meet you.

aeri agrees, yet she can’t help but wonder about the spontaneous nature of the message. it was sent in the morning, so it seemed like you had been thinking about it all night.

after dressing herself, she left her apartment, nervous but excited at the prospect of seeing you again. the last time you met face to face was over a week ago and aeri’s suffering from y/n drought.

you had requested to meet at lunchtime and when aeri arrives at the restaurant, you’re already there, seated and deep in thought.

“hey,” she greets, “slept well?”

you didn’t, but you nod anyway.

“did you have a shift yesterday?” aeri asks as you order your regulars.

“uhm, no. sorry i didn’t text you, i was busy doing something else.”

“nah, it’s fine. i was helping ning with her designs anyway.”

you nod stiffly and aeri reaches out a hand to cover yours, “are you good? you seem a little off.”

“i’m fine!” your voice comes out squeakier than usual but aeri brushes it off.

“so, what’s up?” she finally asks.

you tap your fingernails on the table, gulping harshly, “i just wanted to talk.”

“mhm, sure.”

“i wanted to know… well… uhm, if you were still interested in me,” you ask, eyes flickering to aeri hesitantly. aeri gapes at you before stammering, “wh-why? what— what do you mean?”

you inhale sharply, “i know you were interested in me at the start, but are you still interested now?”

aeri withdraws her hand, “uh, why?”

furrowing your eyebrows, you grit your teeth, “please just tell me.”

“uhm. well… yes? but why—”

“because i’m interested. and i want to find out if the feeling’s the same,” you blurt out. aeri’s eyes widen considerably and if your heart wasn’t racing a mile, you would coo at her cuteness.

“if you were interested before… why didn’t you say anything?” aeri asks, her voice trailing off at the end. you sigh, pinching your nose bridge, “i was dating someone at the time. it wasn’t right for me to encourage someone who liked me that much.”

aeri nods, already feeling guilty for her desperation before.

“i’m sorry for my coldness but i could already tell you were interested in me and as someone who had a girlfriend then, i couldn’t message back with the same eagerness,” you explain.

“no, it’s fine. that was a stupid question but uhm, i thought you didn’t like me back.”

“we became friends first, then i started to have feelings for you. as i learnt more about you, i started to like you more.”

aeri feels a little silly with her immediate infatuation. huh. maybe she got her ‘friends to lovers’ trope after all.

“i hope that now, i can take you on a date?” you ask and how can aeri refuse that? your bright, gleaming, expectant eyes? aeri felt her heart crushed with adoration.

“yes, obviously. you’re my ideal type and everything. you know i had thoughts about our wedding when i first met you—”

“oh, is that why you were so quiet that night?”

“yeah, you just looked really pretty under the lighting and i already started to imagine how you would look like dressed in all white and how our wedding would seem, maybe i would pick yizhuo as my maid of honour and minjeong could be yours but jimin would totally throw a fuss and—”

you smile widely as aeri babbles on, chiming in every once in a while to insert your own thoughts.

when she finally finishes, the expression on your face makes her whole being ascend.

maybe all those useless blind dates with shitty luck amounted to her finding the love of her life.

thank you! aeri would later exclaim to that horoscope-obsessed girl and the gym rat. who knew that those catastrophic dates would finally gift her you, her first girlfriend (and last!).

#aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #giselle x reader #uchinaga aeri x reader #aeri x reader

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toournextadventure · 5 days ago

Text

seven things

Summary: Life back with the living is difficult enough without Yelena contributing r own brand of chaos to it.

Word Count: 8.2k Warnings: swearing, mentions of past deaths, injuries, mental illness Pairing: Yelena Belova x fem!Reader

First, you will be cold. So incredibly cold. You could feel each nerve throughout your body, and they ached. They ached with every step, every breath. Even after all this time as you sat in your chair, waiting for the next person to be brought in for help. And you were still cold.

Most of your days in the medbay were spent in long sleeves and, if it was slow enough, blankets. Gloves were helpful, if you could find the right ones. Hugs, hugs were always nice. Especially the ones from Alexei, he was especially warm. It felt like stepping into a warm bath after catching hypothermia, but it was worth the pain. Sometimes you would just stay in his arms until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hugging?”

You turned your head to face the doorway. Beneath your ear, you could hear Alexei’s heartbeat, loud and strong. Yelena stood in the doorway, looking entirely unimpressed. With her skin covered in dirt and bruises and the remnants of blood, you felt similarly.

“She’s cold,” Alexei said defensively. “Huggings are the cure.”

“What did you need, Yelena?” You asked.

“Walker came back with a gunshot or two.” She looked to have a few injuries of her own that needed attention. “Want him to come down?”

“Yes, send him-”

“-Not until she’s warm.”

Alexei’s arms tightened around your shoulders, holding you suffocatingly close to him. He was warm. You had blamed the Super Soldier Serum; after all, Bucky and Walker were also warmer than normal. You later concluded, through vast points of comparison, that he was just warm. Maybe it was part of being a dad.

You jumped. A second pair of arms wrapped themselves firmly around your waist, snaking between you and Alexei. Strategic. Yelena’s forehead was painfully warm against your shoulder. You didn’t care. Your arms were planted snugly between your and Alexei’s chest. The cold at your fingertips tingled painfully and your waist throbbed, but the warmth was there. It didn’t fix anything; it didn’t ease the cold. But the warmth was there.

The three of you stood there for you didn’t know how long. The longer they stayed wrapped around you, the more it hurt. You let your head drop to rest on Yelena’s. A small touch, something you wouldn’t normally let anyone else see, but you could trust Alexei. After all, he just wanted his remaining daughter to be safe.

You snaked a hand down until your fingers brushed against Yelena’s. She twitched but otherwise remained still. You had made a mistake. Why would she wish to feel your skin against hers? You made to pull your hand away, but her fingers wiggled against yours until they were as tangled between yours as could be possible.

“Warm yet?” Yelena asked softly.

No. No, you weren’t warm. You didn’t think you would ever be warm again.

You nodded.

When they pulled away, the cold felt all the more painful. Perhaps you simply needed the physical touch. Or to fill the empty hole that had situated itself firmly in the centre of whatever had replaced your soul. You didn’t know. Maybe you never would.

“I told you,” Alexei said in his booming voice. He just couldn’t help it. “Huggings help.”

Yelena reached over and held your hand by your pinkies.

Looking down at her, you could more closely see the imperfections marring her face. The shallow scratch near her eyebrow, now red and angry from lack of care. Dirt was rubbed underneath and behind her ear, and lightly coated the lobe. Blood was smeared across her face.

Your pinky burned.

“Why are you two just lookin-”

“-So can you fix Walker or not?” Yelena asked, interrupting her father. You could have laughed.

“I can fix him,” you answered.

“I’ll go send him down.”

She unhooked her finger from yours and left without a second glance. The cold rushed back through every cell until you wanted to scream. But your mouth remained closed, and you watched pitifully as Yelena walked out of the medbay door. You should have told her thank you for the hug.

“Always so cranky,” Alexei said once Yelena was long gone. “Didn’t even say goodbye.”

You patted him on his sturdy, muscular shoulder. “Let’s finish checking you over.”

Yelena would be back.

Second, you will wake up screaming. Initially, you thought it only meant when you came back; that would have been okay. It could’ve been worked with. A temporary moment of insanity, rightfully earned. It wasn’t. After every nap, every single time you woke up, you were screaming. You had worked out a way to stop rather quickly once conscious, but it didn’t prevent the screams. Your throat was eternally raw. Water was your closest friend.

Bucky understood that pain more than most. He tried giving you the most reliable tips. Don’t move too fast, keep at least three glasses of water by your bed at all times, don’t sleep around others. The first two tips were easy enough to keep up with; you already tried to drown yourself with the amount of water you consumed throughout the day.

Sometimes you would avoid sleeping. Staying in the medbay, doing whatever research you could. New breakthroughs, new advances. You didn’t need them, but you did your best to stay up to date. Not everyone knew of your abilities, and you weren’t too keen on sharing the small bit of information you had.

All those late nights inevitably lead to your waking up in the medbay. Where everyone could hear.

You heard the footsteps rushing to the medbay. You heard everything. The glass from your cup was sprawled across the floor, creating a hazardous situation for all involved. As the steps got closer, you continued picking up the pieces, being careful not to knick yourself in the process.

“Are you okay?”

Yelena slid through the open doorway, stopping herself just short of the disaster radius you had created. She looked at you (only ever at you) with tired eyes. Something creaked as she bent down to start picking up the pieces of your mess.

“I heard screaming,” she said, “and glass.”

You picked up a piece that had part of the pattern etched into it. The old Avengers logo with their signatures all around it. A little pretentious considering they already had an entire tower named after them. And cartoons. And commercials. And merch. Okay, it was incredibly pretentious. The piece was broken in the middle of Romanoff.

“Nightmare,” you said, putting the glass shards into the specified bin. “Sorry for waking you.”

“You thought I was sleeping?”

Yelena picked up the pieces a little slower. You knew she hadn’t been sleeping, you were no fool. No one in the tower could sleep soundly at any point, day or night. They would sleep when they were dead. They had too much trauma, too many regrets, to get a restful night. No, you knew better.

“What were you doing down here?” You asked. Both of you pushed yourselves up to your feet after grabbing the last of the big pieces.

Yelena handed you the broom, your fingertips brushing. “If Walker tries to impress me with his military bullshit one more time, I will kill him.”

“And my office is the better option?”

Glass clinked in the metal trash can as Yelena practically flopped onto your couch. “You know how to mind your own business.”

Right. Not for any other reason, you thought, even as her eyes never left you. That was something you… cherished about the Widow. She only came down to your office, or your suite, or met you at the little bookshop down the street because you minded your own business. It couldn’t possibly be anything else.

“Can I get you some tea?” You asked. The broom was leaned against the wall carefully so it wouldn’t slip and clash against the floor. Your hands shook.

“No.” She patted the spot on the couch beside her. “You can join me, though.”

There was no hesitation in your steps. You quickly made your way to the couch and sat down, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. It was childish; a habit you had created after coming back. Maybe you had done it when you were younger. Either way, it brought the smallest sense of comfort.

The couch shifted until Yelena’s head rested gently on your shoulder, her hair tickling your nose. You sat there silently, listening to her steady breathing. Her heart beat rapidly. Her hand stuck under your leg and wrapped around your ankle; a habit she had picked up. It was grounding for both of you.

“What was your nightmare about?” You asked.

“I thought that was you,” she deflected.

“Humour me.”

Her hand tightened around your ankle. Softly, her finger started rubbing against the little scar underneath the protruding part of your ankle bone, a scar you had no memory of receiving. If she kept at it, as she often did, it would leave a raw spot, increasing the size of the scar. You never minded.

“That girl I killed,” she said quietly, “in the Red Room.”

You hummed and let your head fall gently onto hers. The usual nightmare, it would seem. The thing that usually kept her awake and aware. You had tried to talk to her about it once. Only once. She would never say it again, and you wouldn’t ask.

“What was yours?” She asked.

“My what?”

“Your nightmare.”

Right. Your nightmare, the thing that you weren’t even sure was a nightmare. It was… the real thing, wasn’t it? Part of you felt it had actually happened, it wasn’t just some irrational fear created by your broken mind. But every time you woke up, you couldn’t exactly remember the details.

You thought of something different.

“Walker kissed me.”

“That makes mine sound like a dream,” she teased.

“Yelena.”

“I’m serious. I would rather kill myself.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“Worth kissing?”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s what I thought.”

The malice she felt toward Walker was wonderful. It was distracting enough for both of you to get your heads out of whatever trauma was haunting you. You could laugh about him - though you felt no genuine ill will toward the veteran - and move on with your lives.

Yelena’s head stayed on your shoulder. In the distance, you could hear someone playing music on another floor. Something loud, deafening, necessary. You understood. No one was getting any sleep in the tower, just like usual. Hopefully, they wouldn’t come down and ask for a sedative. Again.

Somehow much louder than the music echoing in the vents, you heard Yelena’s heartbeat finally slow to its resting rate. You refused to move even an inch. Her finger had stopped rubbing the sore spot on your skin, and your own shoulders relaxed. Perhaps she was finally asleep.

“This is not comfortable.”

Never mind.

“The couch turns into a bed,” you suggested. “Not much comfier, but at least you can lie down.”

“Are you going to join me?”

“Propositioning me?”

Yelena lifted her head from your shoulder and held you captive with the mesmerising look in her eyes. If she ever asked you to kill for her, you would. If she asked you to live for her, you would. And the worst part of it all? She knew it.

“If I must sleep, then so do you,” she said with the smallest smile you had ever seen.

You sighed and stretched your legs, feeling the ache of the scar before standing up and pulling her with you.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“Don’t worry,” she said as she helped you pull the bed out and get it set up. “I’ll keep Walker away from your dreams.”

If she slept next to you, you knew she would.

Third, your entire body will throb. They told you the pain would subside, but they lied. Being brought back is never a painless task, they said. You understood, you really did. Being a healer of your… particular talents, you knew how painful any sort of life-giving could be. You just wished it would go away after all this time.

If the pain was especially bad, Ava would sit with you. She’d situate herself behind your curled body and watch the medbay door. If anyone came in, she quickly directed them to one of the other medics. You tried to thank her just once, but she told you to shut up and that was that. She still showed up the next time.

“You’re getting worse,” Ava said, her hand gently rubbing up and down your curved back.

“It can’t get worse,” you argued in a weak voice. “It’s already debilitating.”

“It can get worse,” she said.

Your head remained tucked firmly underneath your arms. Your chest was pressed against your chest in a hopeless attempt to ease the pain. Nothing ever helped, not really. But Ava’s hand on your spine was comforting. You weren’t alone in your pain. Never alone.

“Shall I get Yelena?” Ava’s hand ceased its ministrations.

“No.”

“But you-”

“-No.”

In the time you had known Yelena, she had never seen you so… pathetic. Sleep deprived, of course. Angry on occasion. She had helped you clean the mess left from a rampage or two and had been your assistant for one or two emergency operations on her team. Never had she seen you in such a vulnerable position.

If you had anything to do with it, she never would.

Ava’s hand slowly started moving again. Your entire body shook at her gentle, soothing touch. Thankfully, she wasn’t as painfully warm as the men, so her skin left a subtle ache instead of a scorching inferno. Uncomfortable, but doable.

“Would you like to hear it again?”

You nodded, and Ava told her story. The story of the original Avengers, with much more reality added to it. It wasn’t a happy story, but it wasn’t depressing. Showcasing the horrors they left behind, the destruction, but also the hope. A realistic story was more hopeful than anything else.

“My sister was better than that.”

Your entire body tensed, and you shot up until you were sitting. The sudden movement shocked your nerves, shooting lightning across your skin. Yelena was standing in the doorway, eyes wide and looking down at your spot on the floor. Ava’s hand shifted until it gripped your shoulder.

“Then tell your own story,” Ava said.

“Are you okay?” Yelena asked, still looking directly at you.

“What do you need?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“Are you dying?”

“Why would she be dying?”

“Is she?”

“I know you’re not stupid enough to believe pain equates to dying.”

“You’re in pain?”

“Both of you shut up!”

Your voice was rough and unkind. Both Ava and Yelena froze, looking at you with something akin to pity. They knew you never yelled, especially not at them. Walker, perhaps, but not them. Yet you had done just that, and you didn’t even feel the least bit sorry.

That was a lie.

“What do you want?” You asked again.

“It can wait.”

“Just say it,” you growled.

Yelena stared at you. Not at Ava, at you. You hated it when she looked at you that way. It left an uneasiness in your stomach that wouldn’t go away for days at a time. She knew you inside and out, whether you wanted her to or not. And you didn’t. You didn’t want her to know you at all. It was safer.

You raised a brow.

She glanced at Ava. “I was going to ask if you wanted to get food.” Her eyes fell back to you. “But we can go another time.”

No. That’s what you should have said. You should have told her no. It wouldn’t be wise to get lunch with Yelena Belova, the infamous Black Widow. Danger was attracted to her, and Death was attracted to you. If anything happened to her, you wouldn’t fight the inevitable any longer, because what would be the point?

But you couldn’t help yourself.

“Let’s go.”

“You’re sure?” Ava asked, but she was already helping you stand. Your hand gripped hers while her other hand rested comfortably on your hip, steadying your shaking body.

“Only if you help me,” you told Yelena.

Her eyes narrowed before she got the hint and lunged to your side, taking over for Ava, who hesitantly handed you over. It was humiliating, but what could you do? The pain was nearly overwhelming, every breath sending a new wave through your body. Yelena’s hands burned on your skin.

For more than one reason.

“Nothing too crazy, Belova,” Ava said.

“We can take the car,” she answered.

“Drive carefully.”

“I’m not an invalid,” you snapped. They fell silent.

You ripped your hand out of Yelena’s and walked out of her grasp. Each step sent a shock up your legs. It didn’t matter. You kept walking out of the room, knowing Yelena would follow after you. She always followed after you. You waited in the elevator for her, and she quickly took her place beside you.

The floors ticked by at a steady pace.

“I can order food,” Yelena said softly. “We can eat at my place.”

“Shut up,” you said just as softly.

You reached out and wrapped your arm through hers, leaning on her slightly. It eased the pain in your hip just enough not to be miserable. She stiffened before quickly regaining composure, steeling herself to keep you steady.

Walking out of the elevator was much easier with her by your side.

Fourth, you will try to return. Death does not let go of her wards so easily. She’s a possessive one, that Lady Death. From the moment she wrapped you in her arms, she never wanted to let go, and you were content to let her keep you. Each moment is a struggle to remain with the living.

You didn’t exactly want to die again. It wasn’t so much a conscious thing, at least not to your knowledge. You found comfort in spending time with the team you had become a part of. Yelena made things easier, even as you both navigated the unusual relationship between you.

The lack of desire did not stop you from subconsciously running into danger.

Explosions rocked the ground beneath your feet. Each step was calculated to prevent tripping or, worse, falling on your face. How many times had you asked them not to blow shit up? But oh, Bucky and Alexei loved it so much, how could they ever stay true to their word?

You grumbled and held your ears as another explosion went off to your right. They were going to make you deaf, and you were going to make them suffer for it. Slow healing for the rest of their fucking lives, mark your words.

Bunch of assholes, you thought.

They were talking over the comms that you also unfortunately had lodged firmly in your ear. Every comment, every snarky reply, every swear and groan and injury, both given and received. All the while, you remained silent. You weren’t dumb enough to clog their communications with your little internal dialogue you had going on.

“Civilian to your left,” Walker said. “Behind the fire hydrant.”

You looked to your left and sighed.

“The broken one?”

“Roger that.”

Of course it was.

Bullets whizzed past your ear, and you fell to the ground. Your sleeve caught in the small fire next to you. It burned, and you didn’t bother pulling yourself away until the bullets ceased. When you crawled forward, the water raining down from the broken hydrant put the fire out, and you were left with singed, aching skin.

The “civilian,” as Walker so politely called her, was nothing more than a teenager at best. Blood pooled underneath her, originating from what looked to be shrapnel stuck in her left leg. You pressed down around the wound until you felt what you were looking for.

“I’m sorry,” you told her, even though you were sure she couldn’t hear you.

You put your hands completely over the wound and pressed down. The girl groaned but didn’t wake up. Warmth flowed from your palms into the open skin. Energy leaked from you like an open faucet. Your eyes fluttered, but you remained focused. The wound slowly stitched itself back together, taking its sweet time before closing completely. Blood trickled from your nose.

It left a scar; it always did. You found that more people were okay with scars as long as they were still breathing. The girl moved, her head shaking back and forth across the rubble slowly. Good, it was working. You never should have doubted yourself.

“Come on,” you said as you slipped your hands underneath her arms and pulled. Her feet dragged across the ground. The muscles in your thighs pulled tight; perhaps you needed to take Yelena up on her offer of training.

Hidden behind a half-standing wall, you laid the girl back to the ground. It was out of sight, out of danger. Or so you thought. Bullets slammed into the other side of the wall, blasting dust into the air. It tickled your nose. You didn’t duck, staying upright and listening to the warfare going on around you.

Something exploded overhead. Debris rained down, clipping you in the shoulder. You shifted away out of reflex, but otherwise remained still. Across the street you saw Her. She held your gaze, drawing you closer until-

“-Move.”

Yelena slammed into you like a train, knocking you onto the ground. Her body covered yours; her weight pressing down on you was a comfort. Your face pressed into the rubble - unintentionally, of course - and you felt the tiny pinprick of splitting skin on your cheek.

“Do you want to die?” She asked harshly.

Her weight disappeared from your back, and you sat up. She was giving you the look that made your hands shake. Something within you started stitching itself back together, slowly. You looked over her shoulder, and Death looked back. She smiled.

“Listen to me,” Yelena said, shaking your shoulders roughly. It felt like your brain rattled in your skull. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“No,” you said quickly. Your eyes looked over her shoulder again. “I thought I saw-”

“-You didn’t,” she interrupted. “You didn’t see Her.”

You did. You saw her, the same way you saw her any other time on any other day. In the reflection of the tea kettle in your suite. In the always-empty booth at the cafe down the road. In the shimmer of the scalpel down in the medbay while you were patching everyone up. Sometimes even in the dark hallways when you couldn’t sleep and you were desperately trying to run yourself ragged in the hopes of blacking out.

Something screamed past your heads. Yelena pulled you down to the ground again. You met her eyes and immediately started crawling across the ground until you were both behind some sort of wall. As one, you both sat with your backs to the wall, breathing hard as it shook and rattled with each hit.

“Can you shoot?” Yelena asked.

“I’m a healer,” you pleaded, but she was already holding out a gun for you to take.

“But?”

She dropped the gun in your lap, and you fumbled it. You didn’t like it, it was a weapon. You didn’t remember ever taking the Hippocratic Oath, but Valentina’s records said you did. A gun went against everything you stood for. Now Yelena wanted you to use it? Against other people?!

You sighed. The gun was heavy in your hands, but you at least remembered how to hold it. Hopefully. You took three quick, ragged breaths before kneeling and turning around. Your finger squeezed around the trigger until you heard a *click* and you dropped back to the ground. You looked at Yelena.

“You missed.”

“What?” You cried.

“Every single shot.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’ve never seen someone shoot that bad before.”

“I told you I was a healer.”

“The two are not mutually exclusive.”

“Are you getting us out of here or not?”

“Hold on.”

You didn’t bother looking as Yelena stood up and started shooting. It would’ve been humiliating, and you couldn’t handle it. Even before that moment she had jumped at the chance to tease you over the smallest of things. Now she could add “horrible shot” to the list and you could never get that reputation back.

As Yelena continued to shoot and duck, you saw Death standing across from you, hand stretched in your direction. It would be simple to take it, to let her walk you back home. Her cold hand would be a comfort; one of the only things to not contribute to the burning pain in your skin from every touch. There would be a comfort in it, a feeling that nothing could compare to.

A scalding hand grabbed your shoulder and yanked you back to the ground.

“Suka,” Yelena growled.

A hole formed in your chest as you watched Death step backward, disappearing within the dust and chaos. You were alone.

“Why would you do that?” You asked. It took too long for you to realise what you had asked; your mouth snapped shut.

“If She wanted you so badly, She shouldn’t have let you go,” she answered harshly.

You just stared at her.

“She kept my sister,” Yelena said in a softer tone. “She doesn’t get to keep you too.”

You could have said something snarky. You should have. ‘I didn’t know you liked me that much.’ Maybe even ‘Tad possessive, are we?’ Nothing came out of your mouth, not when she couldn’t even look at you. She just looked where Death had been standing, almost as if she could see Her too. You knew she couldn’t; it was just as well.

Instead, you reached over and grabbed her hand, linking your fingers between hers. She flinched. You could feel every injury that littered her body, from the big gashes to the small bruises. With the slightest effort, you let your energy flow between your hands, healing everything along the way. Yelena looked at you in horror and tried to pull away. You held on tight.

Her entire body shivered when you were done; you didn’t think you had ever done a full body heal before. Warmth trickled from your nose and over your lips. It tasted coppery. You licked your lips clean - very coppery - and looked back at Yelena.

“That was weird,” she said simply.

“I… will ask first next time,” you answered.

She squeezed your hand once. You squeezed back three times. It was the closest you could be. For now.

Fifth, you will only remember how you died. Every waking moment is spent with the fear that you will return to Death at any moment. Each night as you slept, you dreamt of the moment you died. Each ounce of pain and fear filled your body and soul until you woke. The images would never leave. That is the only thing you remember. Not even your own name.

Not knowing anything about yourself was an unusual feeling. Sure, you made new memories, but you couldn’t recall a single moment of your life before you came back to the mortal plane. It was unsettling, and left you disoriented. Even hearing how the others had awful childhoods left you envious for something you would never relate to.

It never occured to you that some things were worth forgetting. Walker wanted to forget the death of his best friend. Ava and Yelena wished to forget their childhood trauma. Bucky wished to forget just near everything. And Alexei… well, you didn’t know what he wanted to forget, maybe it was nothing. He seemed to be in pretty chipper spirits most of the time.

You were reading through your file when Yelena stormed into your suite. She threw her keys against the wall, chipping the paint where it made contact. You frowned. It was impossible to colour match in the Tower, you were going to have an off-coloured spot for the rest of your tenure.

“Where were you?”

Your mouth snapped shut. What did she mean? You looked around your suite. The empty tea cups littered the kitchen, leaving tea rings on the counter and wooden end table. A half-eaten donut was on a paper towel in front of you, now probably stale.

“Here?” You questioned. Where else could you have been?

“We needed you and you weren’t there.” Yelena stepped closer, staying a few feet away from you.

“I wasn’t called,” you said with a small, humourless laugh. Yelena wasn’t smiling.

“People died,” she said, “and you didn’t save them.”

“I wasn’t called,” you reiterated, standing up slowly from your spot on the couch. “On top of that, I maybe could’ve saved one or two, not-” you gestured vaguely in front of you “-however many there were.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not a miracle worker, Yelena.” You huffed and gave her an uncomfortable smile. She stared at you with hard, angry eyes.

“Then what good are you?”

She spat the question like a curse. If the couch hadn’t already been pressing against the backs of your knees, you would’ve put some distance between you. Yelena had never questioned you before. Initially she had questioned the lengths of your ability, sure, but never you.

“I’m sorry?” You asked quietly.

She doubled down. “What kind of a healer are you if you can’t even keep people alive?”

“A normal one?” You paused, head tilted at her. “I’m not an endless source.”

“Then you need to do better.”

All the blood in your body seemed to freeze, leaving your skin feeling colder than usual. You hadn’t heard her right. She was angry, understandably so if the mission had gone wrong. Angry Yelena was a force to be reckoned with, but she was never overly cruel. Just honest.

“What did you say?”

“You need to do better.”

“I need to do better?” Your frozen blood flash boiled in your veins until the anger bubbled over. “How about you keep them alive instead of calling me all the time to clean up your mess?”

Yelena held your eyes as she ripped the gloves off her hands and threw them to the floor. They had resided on your floor a lot the past few weeks. Some small part of your brain dedicated itself to finding a proper spot for them later.

“Why?” She asked. “So you can run away from your responsibilities?”

“What responsibilities?” You asked incredulously, extending your arms to envelope the room. “In case you forgot, I was hired to fix your team.” She blinked. “Anyone else is on a first-come, first-served basis.”

“You’ve saved plenty,” she said, stepping forward to tap her finger against your temple. “Did this 'first-come, first-served’ belief come before or after you failed?”

Her finger burned a hole through your temple and deep into your brain, searching desperately for the memory that wasn’t there. Failure. Your failure. Holding the girl’s hand, listening to her scream and beg for help that wouldn’t come. Help that couldn’t even hear her under the rubble.

You shook your head and averted your gaze. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Yelena repeated. “Then what do you know?”

You shook your head again and looked at the folder sitting on the small table. It housed only a handful of papers, each giving you the most minute insight into what you couldn’t remember. Maybe you should have talked to her about this before.

“What do you know?” She asked. Her frown remained.

No answer came to your mind. Nothing. What did you know? Nothing. You knew nothing, remembered nothing, felt nothing. There was nothing to say, and every atom of your body screamed to run, to escape the torrent of questions. Your hands shook.

“Because it seems more and more like you don’t know anything.”

A dam burst deep within your chest.

“You want to know what I know?” You asked. She took half a step back. “You want to know what I-” you snatched the folder and threw it at her chest “-read it!” Her brows furrowed. “Everything I know is in this fucking folder!”

Yelena stood there with wide eyes.

“What?” You asked. “You don’t want to read it?” She looked at you with something you couldn’t understand; she didn’t make a move. “Here,” you said, forcing the papers into the folder and holding it up, “I’ll read it to you.”

It was childish on your part, you knew. You could understand that much. That didn’t mean you could stop yourself from flipping through the papers to find the beginning; a meager beginning that answered nothing.

“Born to two surgeons in redacted. Possesses the ability to heal physical injuries at the cost of her own energy and body function, discovered after redacted. Graduated salutatorian at redacted before attending redacted. Completed a residency at redacted before moving on to redacted. Was working at redacted during the redacted, where she was killed in a building collapse caused by redacted.”

You ignored the way the look in her eyes had your stomach turning. It wouldn’t fix anything, it didn’t matter, you were angry. Her lips were pressed tight, and she just looked at you. Always looking at you.

“Does that clear things up for you?” You asked. “Or would you like me to read it again?”

Your voice cracked on the last few words; it was humiliating. You opened your mouth to try and say something, anything that would distract her from your weakness. Yelena was quicker. The air was knocked out of your lungs as her arms wrapped too tightly around your shoulders. You didn’t have enough mobility to hug her back.

The rubble pressed tight against your chest. Each exhale gave it milliliters of space to press tighter, and it did. Every time. Every breath. You couldn’t move and if you could have afforded to lose the space, you would have screamed from desperation. Panic. The girl kept yanking your hand as she futilely tried to escape.

Yelena squeezed tighter, and the panic dissipated. Oh. It was just a hug. A safe hug. One that didn’t trap you but instead kept you grounded. She… could do that? You did your best to hug her back with the limited space you had available for movement.

She pulled away, her eyes locking with yours. You let yourself fall to the ground, pulling your knees up tight to your chest. Behind you, the couch remained a stable constant. Yelena hesitated, standing in the spot you had left her, before following your lead and kneeling down to sit beside you.

Her arm curled around your leg and rested on your ankle. She rubbed the scar.

“You don’t remember anything?” She asked quietly.

You shook your head. “I remember holding a little girl’s hand,” you said. “I remember giving her my literal life.” She struggled more as your eyes went out of focus. “I remember she didn’t even make it.”

Her fingers rubbed the skin harder; it burned.

“I’m sorry.”

The suite was silent. All the anger chomping at your heels had dissipated, leaving nothing but a hollow cove in the middle of your belly. But it wasn’t all bad. The hole was slowly filling itself up with the warmth from Yelena’s hand, and her head resting on your shoulder. She was so close you could feel her steady, controlled breath against your knee.

“Tell me about your sister,” you said softly, pouring vulnerability into the very essence of the words.

Yelena’s fingers stopped rubbing your scar for a fraction of a second, but it quickly resumed its ministrations.

“You really want to know?”

You shrugged and rested your head on top of hers.

“My folder is awfully empty,” you said. “Plenty of space for some new memories.”

Almost instantly her voice started filling the empty space, telling tales of her sister from youth to adulthood. And you sat there, shivering underneath her warmth, drowning in every word she had to say. Yelena would make for some nice, new memories.

Sixth, all your emotions are borrowed from who you used to be. You will fake laughter and comfort, not for yourself, but for the sake of those who knew you. All except anger; that is yours. The anger is made up of all the pieces of Death that still cling to your soul. The anger is yours because Death has nowhere else to go.

Unlike most of your… teammates (you use the term lightly, they’re acquaintances at best), you’re more than capable of controlling your anger. You clamped your mouth shut and separated yourself until the feeling subsided. It always worked. That didn’t mean you didn’t feel it, but it worked.

Up till now, that was.

It shouldn’t have made you upset. You knew most of your triggers and this hadn’t been one of them. At least, not that you were aware of. It was unusual. Why did it make you so upset? There was nothing more pathetic than becoming irrationally angry when someone was just talking with you!

Your hands left sticky, dirty tracks down your face over and over again. Pacing wasn’t helping, and you had nothing to throw or bite on or distract yourself with. You were simply left alone, taking the stairs up to the top of the tower where no one but your thoughts could find you.

Or so you thought.

The pool was empty, as predicted. You stood at the edge of the deeper end, looking down into the water. Death was left laying at the bottom, looking up at you with that skeletal grin. All the anger bubbling up in your throat evaporated. With clothes on, you let yourself fall into the water.

In the water, everything was manageable. The pain across your skin eased and the emotions - or lack thereof - vanished. Weightless, you could just exist. No thoughts, no fears, no anger. Just you and the water that surrounded you, enveloping you in a consoling, suffocating embrace.

Your lungs burned from the strain of holding your breath. With how little time you could stay underwater, you were left to assume you were never much of a swimmer. Deduction was becoming your best friend, and if you hadn’t been in the water, it would’ve made you mad. Borderline furious.

A warm hand gripped your bicep and yanked. Death reached out to you in a final gesture; your fingers brushed Hers before you erupted from the water. You laid on the edge of the pool, nothing more than gasps and heavy clothes.

“I’m always dragging you out of things,” Yelena’s voice forced itself through the water in your ears. “It’s becoming a bad habit of yours.”

Your breath still came out in gasps and shallow pants. The water of the pool was almost entirely settled, leaving little evidence that you had even been swallowed by it in the first place. You craved it, and the absence left you, unsurprisingly, angry.

“I know Valentina was boring but I didn’t think she was that bad.” Yelena stopped and thought. “By Valentina standards.”

Valentina. Her. Your fingers dug uselessly into the concrete surrounding the pool, leaving no mark except the blood that welled from the freshly grated skin. She had said that… that word, and hadn’t felt the least bit of remorse. She hadn’t cared! The woman was shameless!

“What was the final straw?” Yelena asked, letting herself practically drop to the ground beside you.

She looked wonderful in the dress she was wearing. Nothing flashy or overly vulnerable, but classy. It suited her, truly. You always enjoyed seeing her in such clothing, it was a wonderful break from what she wore on missions. That alone always set you on edge; you knew what could happen on missions.

“She,” you huffed. “She- she said- she called me a- a mutant.”

Yelena remained silent. Her knee rubbed against yours lightly.

“I’m not- I’m not a- why would she say that?” Death looked at you through the water, but you turned to face Yelena. “In front of all those people?”

“Does it bother you that bad?” She asked. “Bob is a mutant, no?”

“Why would she say that about me?” You asked quickly. “I’m not Bob, I’m not some- some mutant.”

She was right to keep her mouth shut. You felt a certain way about Yelena, and you would’ve hated to yell at her. It had only happened a handful of times and that was enough for you to feel the ghost of guilt. You were still haunted by the evening you threw your file at her. Not your best moment.

“Which part are you upset about?” She asked. “That she said it, or that she said it in front of people?”

“Both,” you said without giving yourself time to think of the proper answer.

“So instead of talking it out like we’re all practicing,” Yelena heavily emphasised, “you decided to come up here and drown?”

“Yes.” You looked down at the water and pulled your knees up. “No.”

You weren’t a mutant, of that you were fairly sure. Or, you weren’t sure at all, but it didn’t feel proper. No one really knew what you were, and that was okay, but Valentina was out there spewing her unfounded beliefs for the media and populace to hear.

It was such a small thing in the grand scheme of things. The anger was still there, lingering underneath the surface of the water, waiting to erupt. But Yelena had a point; the entire time was learning to talk about their feelings instead of hiding them. You weren’t part of the New Avengers, but you were part of the team in some way.

“We can work on it later,” Yelena said.

You reached over and grabbed her hand, linking your fingers between hers. Death looked at you through the glassy water; you were content to let her wait. Maybe Yelena could help you get rid of Her anger once and for all. Maybe there was another feeling leftover from your past; something other than anger.

Seventh, your eyes will be wrong. You’re the only one to notice. The irises were the wrong colour, and your vision was perfected. Seeing through different realms did that to the human body. No one will understand what it’s like to look at a stranger in the mirror.

The mirrors were covered; every single one. You only kept the mirrors in the medical wing left untouched seeing as the others found it unusual to keep them covered. They enjoyed seeing the scars left behind after their mighty battles. Or at least, Alexei enjoyed it. Everyone else seemed to look out of morbid curiosity.

There was nothing morbidly curious about what you saw in those mirrors. It was horrifying; it wasn’t right. You passed mirrors on occasion, mostly when you were out with Yelena and Ava. Standing in club bathrooms, trying to steady yourself by gripping the sink, focusing on the person in the mirror that was supposed to be you.

If you had lost all your memories, you wish you wouldn’t have been stuck with the overwhelming feeling of Other. You weren’t sure who you had been before but this all felt wrong. The hands gripping the sink were connected to your body, but they didn’t grip properly; they were weak and soft. Your clothes fit weird and your face… it was wrong.

You found yourself in that same bathroom now; looking at yourself in the cracked mirror of some rundown club that you hadn’t bothered learning the name of. On the glass were lipstick drawings, numbers, and sweet sayings that were honestly rather inspiring. There was something comforting about the homeliness of it all. Maybe you should start doing the same in the tower.

A group of girls stumbled into the bathroom, looking far more put together than they had any right to be. They looked stunning and just the right amount of disheveled. Yelena could manage looking that way and still looking good. Clearly it was a skill that you needed to improve upon.

“The sink isn’t gonna run away, honey,” said the lone girl who didn’t go into one of the stalls.

You instantly let go of the sink and stood there awkwardly.

“What’s got you so bummed in the club?” She asked. Her eyes narrowed, almost as if she was focusing. You knew she wasn’t; you could see it in her eyes how incredibly drunk she was. “Wait, you’re her!”

At the sound of yelling, all the other girls rushed to finish what they were doing and burst out of the stalls. You stood there like an animal in a zoo as they crowded around you, talking amongst themselves so quickly it made your head spin. More than it already was; a few more drinks and you’d be able to match their buzz.

“You’re with that blondie hottie,” one of the girls said.

They gave you no time to answer.

“What are you hiding in here for?”

“If that hottie was mine, you’d have to pry me off her with a crowbar.”

“Listen to me,” the first girl said. She held your face gently between her noticeably sticky hands. “That Yelena girl has been raving about you all night.” Something tumbled around in your stomach. “You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to kiss her.”

“I don’t think-”

“-You’re gonna kiss her so sloppy and so heavy that you’re both gonna go home and have the most bangin’ night of your life.”

Baffled, you could do nothing but smile. All the girls mumbled their agreements that yes, that was exactly what you were going to do, trust us. And honestly? You did. Why not? You couldn’t remember if you had any experience with the phenomenon, but you weren’t dumb; you knew drunk girls in club bathrooms were the most trustworthy people in the universe.

“Go,” the ring leader said softly. “Rock her world.”

She gave you a gentle, sticky kiss on the forehead before letting go and following the rest of her posse out of the bathroom. Well. That happened. You turned back to the sink and looked in the mirror, taking note of the lipstick mark that now stained your skin.

Would the person looking back at you be bold enough to kiss Yelena? You didn’t know; you weren’t entirely sure the original you would have done it either. Perhaps you would have, and it would’ve been wonderful. For now? You didn’t know this person’s limits, and you weren’t convinced you would be able to test them.

You sighed. This was humiliating.

“There you are.”

There was no point in seeing who had come into the bathroom; you would know that voice anywhere. Yelena was quick to lock the door and sidle up next to you, meeting your eyes through the mirror. Did she see the you who used to exist? Or did she also see the differences, take note of the things that were Other?

“Who kissed your head?” She asked, pushing aside any belief that she was thinking deeper. Why would she? She was out at the club having the time of her drunken life.

“Some girls came in and gave me some,” you hesitated and exhaled harshly, “life advice.”

“Was it any good?”

“Don’t know,” you answered.

The girls’ words echoed in your head, and you quickly turned to face Yelena. Even if she was drunk, you wouldn’t have known. She was masterful at her craft, hiding any sort of weakness even on a typical girls’ night out. But you could see a softness in her eyes, and that was vulnerability enough.

“They said some things that got me thinking,” you said. She raised her brow for you to continue. “There are rumours about us.”

“I know,” she commented as quickly as you had finished. “I spread them.”

“You did?” You asked.

“Yup,” she said, popping the “p” loudly. “I needed to get your attention somehow.”

“Liar,” you said, bumping her with your hip. Where that move had come from, you had no clue. “You’ve always got my attention.”

“Then quit hiding in the bathroom and come dance,” Yelena said.

She reached out and grabbed your hand. It wasn’t the first time she had held it; you both reached for the other like a lifeline. But her hands were painfully hot, and you didn’t mind. You liked the pain if it was coming from her.

You looked back in the mirror one last time, taking note of the differences. The colour of your eyes was wrong and you weren’t too keen on the shape of your mouth. But looking at your reflection standing next to Yelena… you fit. A smile teased the edges of your mouth and you allowed Yelena to pull you out of the bathroom.

Perhaps coming back from the dead would open the way for some rather new adventures. And maybe rediscover how to feel along the way.

#yelena belova x reader #yelena x reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena imagine #yelena belova x you

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bunji-enthusiast · 3 months ago

Text

sʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴛᴏᴘ

Summary || Change was always a weird process, and currently, that is what happened. Shit gets rough, sure. But atleast you have each other, right?

WC: 4k

A/N: snatched this absolute domestic fluff from this post. Also was starting to get way too long, so this is part 1. The idea will come to a head in a later part. Timeline is set during season 2 obviously. (Whaaat am I doing)

Part 1 (here) | Part 2

Surprised was not nearly enough of a word to describe the way you felt about Rex, it was, in every sense of the word —

Relieving?

Yeah, that. You weren’t sure what it was to have caused such a change, whatever it was that stirred. But if it was such a close brush with death that made him perceive things differently, then you rather wouldn’t try to understand that part, scary. Your own dance with death was terrifying enough, and you've been in these situations before! Yet the only difference that pertained to the truth was the fact you felt such an utter gut swirling incessantly in the pits of your stomach. Like it was telling you with everything it could muster to stay alive, stay out of the fight.

Don’t. Move.

You remembered the whole damn thing ever since you’ve gotten hospitalized.

Moreover, you were also a hero, and heroes unfortunately defend and fight. Which Rex managed to do a lot more of than you were able to, much to your self-chagrin.

Though it was more of adrenaline and a very pissed off Rex Splode that drove him to finally finish the fight with the Lizard League, which made you laugh. Because you couldn’t even manage to contribute much as you had been taken out of commission halfway through the fight, while later when you had awoken in your own room, the homely smell of sterilization and the wayward energies of death permeating the atmosphere made you come to a swift realization of what had happened.

[“Fuckin’ asshole..” You muttered, clutching the side of your abdomen. Suddenly in the midst of your own struggle, you got blasted sideways, slamming your body against another wall. You let out a pained groan, your eyes immediately settling on seeing the bodies of the multiple copies of Dupli-Kate laying astray, innards out for bacteria to invade.

You could hear both Rex and Rae shouting in disbelief, Rae more vocal as to Rex more evenly. Though you swore you could hear the hurt in their tones, which was exactly fair.

You swore with everything in you to not throw up, the smell was far too familiar. Yet coming from a fellow guardian, it just made you sick to your stomach. A problem you really didn’t need right now. None of the Lizard League members were currently paying attention to you, fortunately enough.

That sudden inability of gratitude made you uncomfortable, so you stood up, despite every muscle and bone in your body screaming at you to stay down. You moved, and you attacked the female member of the league; she struck back in retaliation, tearing her attention away from Rex. He gasped in pain as he held his side, stepping back twice, eyes weary with worry and precipitation.

Despite the worry — Rex figured you could handle her on your own, you always had a way with these things, so he turned his gaze to Rae to see how she was doing. Seeing that she had already killed the man dressed in black and scaled orange spots, he had a slight brief moment of relief. Then turned to the largest man in the room.

You on the other hand weren’t paying attention to the main part of the fight, keeping your focus on killing the woman in front of you. Your vision thrummed with blood, adrenaline coursing in your veins as you narrowly avoided her attacks, you didn’t prove to be lucky with every single dodge however. Wincing, you clamped down on your jaw, trying to despell the evidential reality of your condition.

“Just stay down already,” The lizard woman sneers, her confidence palpable as you two wrestle for control, arms interlocked in a vice grip. “And your death will be a quick one.”

You didn’t respond, you wanted to. But didn’t, you truly couldn’t muster the energy necessary. She also really was starting to make your blood boil. You shook your head, surging forward with energy, thrusting a punch to her face. Watching the way her expression shifted as she fell backwards within her surprise. “Looks like I'm not the only one.” You snorted with a half-smirk, heaving a heavy breath as you continued forward. Granted, you could’ve used your ability, but you needed a certain level of concentration for it to work.

And your concentration was beginning to falter in the midst of it all, that you were really hating on right now. You did not need your body giving out on you right now.

You staggered as you threw another punch, then another, not letting the woman have time to react to your attacks. She threw up right as you threw a gut-punch, good process you noticed. Anything for you at this point went, and anything would be good right now. “You bitch!--” The lizard woman gasped as she grabbed the neck fabric of your costume, yanking you back, trying to garner distance. But you struggled, straining against the force as you bashed any part of her body possible. Anything to turn her into mush, make her stop moving.

Your body began slowing down, your vision catching dots of blood spattering everywhere. For good organization red was a stylish color, but in the transparent eye of a human, not so much. The alive and the dead, it didn’t bode too well.

God everything hurts.

Then your vision swam in black dotted spots, feeling the way your awareness slipped away from you. Fatally unconscious.]

You winced as you grabbed the side of your head, the memories of it all rushing back to you as you regained your awareness. “Shit…” You hissed out.

The room was small to say the least, but not suffocating fortunately.

You tore your gaze away from your bed, shifting around as you looked for somebody. You were worried about the states of your teammates, though, now you had thought of it. It was likely that they were hospitalized as well.

Though you weren’t sure if you could say the same about Kate, her fate was spelled out loud and clear to all three of you back in that situation.

Suddenly someone came into the room, a nurse, maybe. She called out, alerting other staff to your now very awake status. Now apparently, from what you’ve heard coming from the few staff attending to you, checking your vital signs and health, is that you had been in this case — relatively well off compared to the others. Abdominal tearing to your muscle, multiple trauma fractures to your skeleton. You couldn’t retain all of it, but the explanation made enough sense. Soon enough, the clamor of the small group died down, seeing as that your vitals were satisfactory levels. Able to be monitored once in every little while without predominant worry.

Then, in the depths of your self-suffocating silence, a familiar voice of a very insufferable (but annoyingly reliable) old man cuts into your hearing.

It’s Cecil Stedman, the Director of the Global Defense Agency — the man who’s seen and done more than most could imagine. His grizzled, yet composed presence is unmistakable, a sharp contrast to the machine-like efficiency of the GDA’s medical team working behind him. His white hair, long and wispy, catches the dim light as he steps forward, his usual air of authority tempered with something else... maybe even a hint of concern.

"You're awake," he says, his voice surprisingly gentle, though with that characteristic coldness that’s always present in his tone. "I thought we might need to call in the whole damn hospital for you, but it seems you’ve got more fight left in you than I thought."

Was it really that bad?

You feel the sharp sting of movement as you try to adjust yourself, gritting your teeth at the pain coursing through your body. A sigh escapes you, a strange mix of frustration and relief. You’re alive. But at what cost? You glance over at Cecil, whose eyes, though steely, are focused on you with a keen awareness.

"Where… where are the others?" You rasp out, your throat dry.

Cecil offers a half-smile — an expression that somehow carries both reassurance and a sense of grim determination. "Rex Splode and Rae are both in stable condition. They were near death, but they’ll make it. A bit of a mess, but that’s nothing we can’t handle. As for the others..." His face darkens briefly, the air growing heavier. "One of us didn’t make it. Not sure what happened to her yet, but it doesn’t look good."

You nod solemnly. A lump forms in your throat as the weight of the situation settles in. Another fallen comrade. Another loss in a long string of them, you knew, hoped otherwise – but no. You clench your fists under the blanket, angry at the helplessness of it all.

Cecil watches you for a moment, his posture relaxed but ever observant. "I know you’re pissed off," he mutters, "And you have every right to be. But you did your part. You and the others did your best, and that’s all anyone could ask for."

You lock eyes with him, the words hanging in the air. Cecil always had a way of saying things that didn’t necessarily comfort, but at least they didn’t sugarcoat reality. "Thanks for the update," you reply, though your voice betrays the exhaustion that weighs on you.

There’s a moment of silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s just the kind of quiet that only seems to exist between people who’ve seen too much — and have lived through it all anyway.

"You always seem to pull through," Cecil finally speaks, his tone almost reflective. "You’re a lot tougher than you give yourself credit for."

A small, self-deprecating laugh escapes you. "If it wasn’t for this damn hospital, I wouldn’t be here." You glance around, your eyes trailing over the sterile white walls again. "Why here though? The Pentagon?"

Cecil looks at you with a wry smirk, as though this is a question he’s been asked a thousand times before. "Where else would you want to wake up after almost dying? Besides, we’ve got the best medical team this side of the planet. It’s not just about the injuries. It’s about making sure you’re fit enough to get back out there when duty calls."

He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle in. "You’re part of something bigger now. Whether you want to be or not."

The truth in those words hits hard, and you feel that familiar twinge of uncertainty that always accompanies Cecil's philosophy.

"We can be the good guys, or the guys that save the world. We can’t be both," you repeat, almost by reflex, as if it’s something you’ve heard a thousand times before.

Cecil’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a quiet acknowledgment in his gaze. "Exactly," he says softly. "It’s a harsh truth, but it’s the truth. We do what we have to do for the greater good, even if it means making sacrifices."

You want to say something — argue, maybe. But the words don’t come. Instead, you let out a breath, staring at the ceiling. "I didn’t ask for this… any of it," you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

Cecil’s response is calm, as it always is when it matters most. "None of us did. But it’s our responsibility now." He pauses again, his eyes narrowing with a subtle intensity. "You can rest now. We’ve got things covered. But when you’re back on your feet, I’m sure there’ll be more to do. There always is."

You nod, your thoughts clouding as you try to process the gravity of what he’s saying. There’s no rest for the weary in this line of work. Still, you have to admit that part of you feels a bit of relief that at least the people around you — your team — are going to make it through this. Even if it means facing the next battle head-on.

the days will stretch on, and you know you’ll get back in the fight. Because that’s what heroes do. They keep going, even when the world seems to be falling apart.

During the duration of your recovery, you were able to move around without the worry of pain stopping you. Initially you had been unable to, your legs limp as noodles. You had a quiet laugh about that part, but you hated not having the freedom of movement, however, you had to take it easy and listen to the staff. A familiar routine to be sure, but this was a much more devastating case.

God, you could actually remember right before the fight ensued, what Rex had said about pizza. You wondered, if the situation had gone different, that you all would’ve been sitting back at HQ — munching on that damn pizza, along with whatever else had been ordered.

Though today, before visiting Rex; you decided to visit your other friend.

Rachel.

You can’t imagine whatever the ordeal for her in that fight was, no doubt terrifying. Knowing her obvious ability to shrink in size, you could only imagine the details when you strode up to the window, clutching your stomach. There was a viewing window, easy enough for people to peer through if they wanted too, check up on their loved ones. One for every room obviously.

She was lying in a hospitable coffin, soundly asleep. The damn thing may as well have been one, considering her very prudent state. Earning your scars, willingly or unwillingly; was one aspect that any hero could be excitable for. But through the wisdom of the pain, it makes you very wise otherwise. Leaving you with some festering pit of depression, but unfortunately, it's something nobody is prepared for regardless.

You sighed, trudging forward despite your soreness, making your rounds – greeting some familiar staff here and there on the way to Rex’s room.

The room was quieter than it had been for days. Even the hum of the building’s usual bustle seemed to have taken a break, leaving only the sound of footsteps as you made your way to Rex’s room. He was supposed to be recovering, but you weren’t entirely convinced. After all, Rex was stubborn, and if anyone could push their limits just to prove they were fine, it was him. You knocked gently, not wanting to surprise him too much, but you knew that wouldn't stop him from blowing up in some sarcastic, Rex Splode fashion.

The door creaked open, revealing the sight of him sprawled out on his bed. His usual sharp demeanor was nowhere to be found—just exhaustion, but still, a faint, familiar smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth when he saw you.

"Great, here to tell me how much of an idiot I am for almost getting myself killed?" Rex said, his voice hoarse but laced with humor, his usual sarcasm evident even through the tiredness.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment before shaking your head. "I was more concerned about you, actually. You seemed like you were barely hanging in there after the fight." You shot back, noting the one of the few other times you’ve managed to visit him.

Rex waved a hand dismissively, propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm fine. You know me, never been better." He flashed a cocky grin, but you caught the way his eyes flickered to the bandages wrapped around his torso. Though the bandages were barely present despite the hospital dress, you could see it. A slight shift in the air told you that he was just trying to hide it behind bravado.

"You nearly died, Rex," you said softly, stepping further into the room, moving towards his bed. The tension between you both was always there, thick and suffocating, but lately... things felt different. You weren’t sure what it was, but something had shifted between you two after everything with the Lizard League. Maybe it was the close calls, the way you both kept ending up on the same team even after all the chaos. Maybe it was how, despite all of his flaws, Rex had found a way to matter in your life, in ways that were harder to ignore with each passing day.

Rex shrugged, not meeting your gaze, and rubbed a hand through his hair (whatever was there despite the headdress), his eyes glancing anywhere but at you. "Guess I’m not invincible. Wouldn’t be the first time I messed up."

The memory hit you like a sudden wave, and you couldn’t help but lean back against the wall as it flooded your thoughts. The mission—the mission. It felt like ages ago, but it still burned with a clarity that felt so vivid you almost imagined you could still feel the heat of it, the adrenaline, the uncertainty.

Not that he had entirely messed up though, this was something different. What it reminded you of.

[The two of you had been briefed about the mission at the Guardians' headquarters. A villain by the name of Kael the Tyrant had been wreaking havoc in the city, but it was more than just typical bad guy stuff. He had an entire crew of hired muscle—bounty hunters, mercenaries, the usual scum—and Kael had a plan that involved unleashing an ancient device that could cripple the city in ways no one could fully anticipate.

It was supposed to be a standard mission, you’d thought. You and Rex—just the two of you, no big team, no backup. They didn’t pair you up often, not for missions this high-stakes. But this time, the Guardians thought it was best if you and Rex could handle it yourselves. A test, they’d said.

At least, that’s how it felt when Rex shrugged, a cocky grin on his face. “Guess we’re gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way. Don’t get too used to it.” He flashed you that mischievous glint in his eyes, like this was just another run-of-the-mill mission, like the stakes weren’t as high as they actually were.

You hadn’t thought much of it then, but looking back, you realized how wrong you’d been

It started out as typical, with you both taking down the smaller henchmen in the streets. The crowd was thick, Kael’s mercenaries everywhere—civilians scattered, too terrified to help themselves. Rex’s usual boisterous banter kept things light, though he definitely looked like he was in his element, picking off bad guys left and right with those explosive blasts of his. You were doing what you always did—darting in and out of spaces they couldn’t track you, making sure no one got the drop on either of you.

But as always with these missions, things escalated.

Kael wasn’t just hiding behind his hired goons. He had something bigger planned, a huge contraption built into the side of a building—a machine capable of releasing toxic gas into the air, capable of scrambling the city’s tech for hours. When the mercs realized you were onto them, they launched a full-out counterattack—something brutal, and definitely not part of the original plan.

That’s when everything took a turn.

You were behind a stack of crates, your heart racing, trying to catch your breath. You had a few cuts—nothing serious. Rex wasn’t in much better shape, though his typical cocky smirk had disappeared, replaced with a fire that could’ve lit the entire city.

Then, without warning, one of the mercenaries caught you—his fist slamming into your ribs before you had time to dodge.

The pain was sharp, immediate, and for a split second, you thought you might not recover from it in time. The villain’s grip tightened on you, and everything around you blurred, except for the rush of panic building in your chest.

That was when Rex exploded into the scene, literally.

“Get your filthy hands off her!” His voice was a low growl as he tore through the mercenary like a hurricane. With a snap of his fingers, Rex launched one of his explosive bursts, sending the villain flying backward. You could see the fury in his eyes, that rage and protectiveness you rarely saw.

You’d never seen Rex quite like that before.

But just as quickly, another mercenary, this one larger and more armored than the rest, charged at him from behind, knocking Rex to the ground with a heavy hit. The force of the strike caused a crack in the pavement beneath him. You gasped, trying to make your way to him, but the pain in your side from the mercenary’s earlier blow had slowed you down.

And then it happened.

A massive explosion.

You felt it before you saw it—a blast so forceful, it knocked you off your feet. The impact rattled your bones, and the world spun. You barely had time to recover before Rex was back on his feet, his body tense with anger as he shouted at you, “Stay down! I’m not losing you!”

But it was too late. That explosion—one from Kael’s hired gun, one that had hit too close to you—had shredded the side of your armor. You could feel blood welling under your clothes as you staggered to your feet, barely able to hold yourself up.

Rex turned then, his eyes locked on you, full of concern—and it was there, in that fleeting moment, that something between you snapped. You didn’t have time to analyze it, though. The villain had already turned, heading straight for the machine.

“Rex—go!” you managed to gasp out, pain lancing through your side. “We’ve got to stop him! The machine!”

But Rex wasn’t listening. Not now. Not when you were hurt. Not when he was pissed.

“No,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m not leaving you.”

You couldn’t stop him, though, and at that point, neither could you really move to stop him. Rex charged forward with reckless abandon, the fury in his gaze blinding as he launched everything he had into the mercenary. It was explosive—not just in power, but in the sheer frustration that made every hit feel like it was landing for all the wrong reasons. Rex wasn’t just fighting to stop the guy. He was fighting to make them pay for what they’d done to you.

He didn’t stop until the mercenary was out of commission, and even then, Rex only paused long enough to check on you—his hand on your shoulder, his breath shallow from exhaustion, eyes filled with a protective fire you hadn’t seen before.

“You’re not dying on my watch,” he muttered, voice rough.

It wasn’t just the injury. It was the way he looked at you, like something inside him had cracked wide open, something neither of you had dared to acknowledge before.

“I’m fine,” you tried to assure him, but even you could hear the lie in your voice.

Rex wasn’t fooled. “No, you’re not. And I’m going to make sure it stays that way.”

He helped you up, half-carrying you to the machine after dispatching the rest of Kael’s men. The battle wasn’t over yet, but it was clear that something between the two of you had shifted. That recklessness, that protective instinct… It was like a door had opened.

And you couldn’t say you hadn’t felt it too.

The mission ended in victory—Kael’s device was shut down, the city was safe, but the cost had been more than just the injuries. It had been the moment you realized Rex cared more than he let on. Maybe even more than he was ready to admit.]

You blinked, the memory fading back into the quiet of the present, but it stayed with you—a constant reminder of how things had shifted, the beginning of everything. Rex, the way he had cared then, was still the same Rex that stood beside you now, even if he had trouble saying it aloud.

You could still feel the weight of it—the lingering tension between you, the unspoken words hanging in the air between your words, and just how much you were starting to care.

You sat on the edge of his bed, the space between you a quiet reminder of the unspoken things. There was always something there, lingering in the back of your mind. He had this ability to make you feel like you were too much and not enough at the same time, but right now, you weren’t going to let that stop you.

"Everybody fucks up, Rex," you said, leaning closer. "But you're allowed to care about your life. You don’t have to be so reckless all the time. You’ve got people who care about you."

A slow breath left his lips, the sharp edge of his usual attitude softened by exhaustion. "Yeah, well, you’re one of them, huh?" His voice was quieter now, less teasing and more... real. For a split second, you could have sworn you saw the barest trace of something more in his gaze—something uncertain, but earnest.

Your heart skipped a beat. You fought the urge to push it away, to say something witty and deflect. Instead, you simply nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Yeah. I care about you, Rex."

There was a long pause, and for a moment, the room was still. The usual sarcastic comebacks, the way Rex would usually brush off anything sincere, wasn’t there. He didn’t try to mask the vulnerability that was creeping into the space between you.

"You know, I’m not great with... this stuff," he muttered, his voice almost vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. "The caring, the emotions, the... whatever this is." He looked at you, his gaze intense and searching, like he was waiting for you to confirm something, anything.

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his, a simple touch that carried more weight than either of you could probably express in words.

"I get it," you said, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. "I’m not exactly good with this stuff either."

Rex's lips quirked into that familiar grin, though it felt more tired than usual. "Yeah, well, maybe that’s why we're both a mess."

You smiled softly, feeling the warmth of his hand against yours. "Maybe," you agreed.

There was no grand confession, no dramatic moment, just the quiet understanding that hung between you both. But somehow, that felt like enough.

Rex stared at you for a moment longer before his grin returned, though this time it was laced with something deeper. "So, you planning on sticking around and making sure I don’t blow myself up again?"

Your smile softened as you leaned back, looking up at him. "Yeah, I think I’ll stay for a while."

The space between you two wasn’t quite so distant anymore, and as you sat there with him, the tension felt... different. More real. You weren’t sure where things would go, but right now, this—just this moment—felt like the beginning of something neither of you had been brave enough to face before.

#rex splode x reader #rex sloan x reader #rex splode #invincible rex splode #invincible rex sloan #invincible #invincible x reader #invincible x you #fluff #domestic fluff #fanfic #invincible fanfic

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arienotari · 1 year ago

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Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them.

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse.

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones.

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket.

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye.

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt.

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me.

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms.

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me.

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay.

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle.

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours.

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away.

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go.

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second.

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before.

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other.

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is.

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view.

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear.

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal.

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it.

I glare at him and snatch my journal back.

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose.

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view.

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons.

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening.

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could.

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response.

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement.

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass.

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole.

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees.

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes.

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue.

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache.

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell.

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke.

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through.

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it.

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time.

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke.

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip.

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air.

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head.

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck.

#fanfic #wally clark #wally clark x reader #school spirits #television #x yn #Wally Clark fluff #milo manheim #wally clark imagines

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themothwhisperer · 3 months ago

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Like of course Shauna crashing into Melissa’s life like this isn’t fair. Of course it’s not. But here’s the thing:

Shauna is filled with rage and anger because nothing about this is fair to begin with. The fact that some of the survivors are good at normalcy (and then again, is what Melissa doing normal?) doesn’t feel right. How dare they kill off the guilt and the pain and the trauma? Shauna had to do things the others didn’t even have to think about. They all had the opportunity to hide into total denial about the cannibalism if they wished to (so far, at least). In a way, they had the luxury of wiring their brains into thinking this was just meat and rationalizing the whole thing to a simple mean to survive. But not Shauna. She made the little pieces and it could look like any dead animal on a plate. But she knew and she had to face it every single time. This was a human being. She was the one doing all the dirty work.

We could almost even add that they all took advantage of her in a way. She was grieving a best friend. Jackie’s death is the trigger for all that ensues. Shauna was introduced to the idea of cannibalism through Jackie’s dead body, someone she had very complicated feelings for. And just here, no wonder this girl went absolutely insane. Nobody really stopped her. Nobody really tried to help her. She was falling into pure madness. And then, she lost a baby to make it worse, still grieving that first death. Being the instigator of cannibalism, the others took a step back. Which was probably a relief for them. The task was falling on Shauna from that moment on. Someone had to do it, right? But they let a girl deep into her grief cut human beings (she personally knew and cared about) open to feed the group. It is indeed very unfair.

Now it’s so easy for all of them to say she’s such a bad person. To be honest, it’s true. She did horrifying things and is still doing some insane stuff, but the situation still remains what it is. Everyone watched while she was absorbing the madness. Shauna drank it all up while they could hold on and protect some clean parts of themselves. She was drowning this entire time.

As for her wanting to stay, could we really expect something else? Shauna was responsible for a massive dimension of their survival. She was important and valued for it. Her. This task was hers. She wasn’t someone else’s shadow for once. They were becoming so efficient at surviving. Shauna was contributing to this. They had time to find some sort of balance into those woods. We cannot forget that going back to civilization also means taking all of this away from them. Shauna, alongside Lottie and Tai, have crossed a line that makes going back very complicated. Their loss would be significant. And I think Shauna is done with losing and grieving.

#yellowjackets #shauna yellowjackets #shauna shipman #shaunajackie #shaunahat #shauna sadecki #jackie x shauna #shauna x melissa #lottie matthews #taissa turner #tai turner #yellowjackets spoilers #yj spoilers

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heaven-s-black-box · 5 months ago

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Notes- Hacking up a Lung; Anemo Boys x fem!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: January 27th, 2025

Description: Anemo boys (+ Aether) with an fem reader. When Reader was yelling at someone until she coughs, Chronic stress can affect the vagus nerve — a major nerve that runs from the brain stem to several organs, including the lungs. Some researchers suggest this might be the cause of some unexplained coughing. How would they deal with that situation?

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. Fun science facts for the win, I did not fact check this (though it sounds right) or my writing. So, this isn't medical advice and might be inaccurate. Also, reader's gender isn't mentioned, but i did tag it as female reader because that's what the request asked for.

Back to directory

Xiao

At first he thinks it’s because you’ve spent so much time with him

He rushes you to dr. Baizhu and is reassured it’s not his fault

But… he still blames himself and starts to stay at a distance

Doesn’t want to completely leave you though, so he leaves letters around and plays for your lunch and watches you from a distance

Eventually you have to corner him and assure him you’re fine

Maybe tell him he’s stressing you out more? You know, if he really wants to help you he should stay around

Venti

That was weird, you should go see Barbara

Oh, it’s caused by stress? Guess he’s taking you on a vacation

If you don’t want to travel, that’s fine, he’ll just take you camping

Somewhere with fresh air and a gentle breeze, not near the frigid dragon spine, maybe somewhere near the waterfront

If you do travel he’ll take you somewhere that won’t affect your lungs, so nowhere high up, maybe Sumeru since there’s so much fresh air

Kazuha

He’s already concerned that you’re yelling at someone, are you okay? What happened?

And then you start coughing and he’s by your side and whisking you away

Helps you catch your breath and then take you to see Kokomi, or Baizhu if you’re in Liyue

Once he finds out it’s caused by stress, he asks if you want to settle down

He’d been considering it, but this was a tipping point because traveling as frequently as you did could be stressful

Plus being stuck on the Crux, and sea water was so salty that maybe the air was too dry?

Even if you don’t settle down, he tries to spread out your travels more

Heizou

Mr. detective has a whole collection of eclectic knowledge stored in his head

And he knows about your chronic stress

So you start coughing mid argument and he’s like, aw damn, guess we’re taking a break

He likes cases, but your well being comes first so he takes some of his vacation time

Places a hand on your back during your coughing fit, just to comfort you

You spend a nice few days together and he doesn’t let you lift a finger, consider this him making up for always being busy

Wanderer

He thinks your argument with this nobody is funny, and he refuses to admit he’s worried when you start coughing

His first thought is an illness like the one furnace workers often experienced, but that didn’t make sense

Takes you to Avidya forest to see Tighnari who tells you to rest

Wanderer feels better knowing it’s nothing too serious, look chronic stress is manageable in his opinion

Tries to be nicer to you, because he’ll be damned if he starts stressing you out, and asks Nahida for advice

Makes you join him for his tree naps, the fresh air is good for you

Aether

You start coughing and he thinks of a million things it could be, delusion? Abyssal energy? Seriously, he’s seen so much

Takes you to the nearest doctor and finds out it’s stress related, and somehow that’s worse than everything else

Because… it’s his fault

You’re joining him on his journey, you’ve been through so much with him and because of him

And the worst part? He can’t wait for you to recover, and he’ll be damned if he lets you push yourself

You have to part ways for now, but once you recover to a manageable degree he’ll come back for you

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fulcrums501st · 5 months ago

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silco is a great character. but if your love of silco causes you to hate on vi I’m gonna need you to reevaluate some things

like vi has every reason to hate silco all of which are valid for her to believe. yea she doesn’t get that silco actually cared for jinx. but like bro she was imprisoned?? and like? he killed her family??? why would she ever see him in any way either than that?? she doesn’t know about his political motivations and those don’t justify him trying to kill her family????

vi’s been in prison for years and obviously would assume that jinx became the way she is cuz of silco. and she isn’t even fully wrong to assume that cuz silco raised jinx for years and yea he did let her get to this point. like yea it’s complicated cuz of his own issues and his messed up ideology kinda make him incapable of being a good parent no matter how hard he tries. but vi ain’t giving him the benefit of the doubt and like why tf would your expect her to?? obviously we know that there was some jinx brewing beneath the surface of powder in act1. but how tf was vi supposed to have predicted this?? silco’s parenting undeniably contributed to who jinx became. so vi isn’t even wrong to believe this. not 100% right but not 100% wrong.

and like jinx is so different from vi’s perspective ofc vi is gonna 100% blame silco on that. and like she has a right to. like vi shows up to try and save her sister and silco tries to kill her and yaps about “freeing” jinx. like what is vi supposed to conclude from that other than silco is Mr. evil and a sister- stealer. like yes girl go blow up his factory.

“silco was there when vi abandoned powder” actually what tf are you talking about. vi was 15. experiencing a trauma no one eve should. she invisibly shouldn’t have hit powder but like I completely understand why she fricking did. understandable emotional reaction for a 15 yo. how are we still giving her shit about this?? plus she TRIES TO GO BACK TO POWDER. BUT IS PUT IN PRISON FOR 7 FUCKING YEARS. she walked off to cool off not abandon her sister.

also the point is that silco misunderstands jinx’s situation. he can only see vi “abandoning” jinx as the same betrayal that happened to him. when they’re completely different. silco’s perspective on vi’s motivations and “betrayal” could not be more inaccurate. it makes sense for him to believe that cuz again of his own trauma. but be fr rn he did not asses the situation correctly which is partly why jinx has such conflicting feelings on vi. yes silco was there for jinx, but not cuz vi abandoned her or bc vi was a terrible sister.

silco and vi both want what they think is best for jinx. what they think is best tho is completely incompatible. both of their perspectives are completely understandable and genuine. that’s why jinx feels this pull between the two of them. that’s what makes the dinner party scene so good. cuz neither of them are entirely in the wrong for believing what they do or for wanting what they do.

“silco was right, vi chose caitlyn over jinx”

if this is abt s2 then just no. never cite s2 again when talking about vi. never. Not in my vi arcane.

And even in s1 jinx asking vi to shoot Caitlyn was unfair and messed up as crap. like ofc vi wasn’t gonna do that she has fricking moral compass. vi is put in an impossible position.

silco was right about how vi is still holding out hope that jinx can go back to being the same innocent powder she remembers AND CAN YOU BLAME HER?! she hasn’t seen her sister in 7 YEARS?! she only remembers powder. the memory of powder was the only thing getting her through those 7 years. yeah silco is correct in this assessment but it doesn’t make vi’s hope invalid or selfish, just wishful and optimistic. again, powder was the only thing keeping her going. cuz vi has been separated from the world and the cruel reality of it for 7 fucking years. silco and VI’s perspective are both valid given their experiences.

“vi could never accept jinx, while silco loved jinx unconditionally”

ok and that’s great parenting on a paper but is also lwk part of the problem cuz he enables all of jinx’s messed up and self-destructive behaviors. his unconditional love overrides his capacity for good parenting and discipline. it’s part of what makes their father-daughter relationship codependent and toxic. also vi loves and cares for her sister sm. but her sister becoming a murderer is an insane thing to ask of her to accept. like jinx does so many messed up things in s1. we the audience know why jinx is acting the way she is. but vi has every right to be disturbed by her. like could you imagine being kidnapped and separated from your little innocent sister for 7 years and then coming back and the first thing you see her do is shoot at people and giggle?? all out of her own volition?? I would be a bit taken aback too. It would be weird if vi wasn’t. And even after all of that vi doesn’t give up on her. she literally says “I’m not going to abandon you again” (and do not fucking bring up s2 cuz that was NOT vi)

“vi created jinx” “no silco created jinx”

how tf is this still a discussion?? they both did and neither of them did. jinx was made from terrible circumstance. every single one of her life experiences contributes to who she became. her parents being murdered by enforcers. her living under systemic oppression. her childhood insecurity and feeling like she needed to prove herself to the group. vi encouraging her inventions. the incident. vi “abandoning” her. being raised by silco. killing silco. etc. there isn’t one event that “makes” jinx.

anyway. vi’s hatred of silco is valid given her perspective. and silco’s beliefs also make sense given how messed up he is and they are genuine. but I never wanna see a silco fan hating on vi ever again.

#I say this as a certified silco enjoyer #this is abt pre s2 ofc back when the writers cared about being good and about vi #might need to make one of these abt vander too (ignoring s2 ofc)#arcane critical #arcane #silco #arcane silco #jinx #arcane league of legends #paracritical #arcane jinx #vi #arcane vi #paradox talks

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kestrel-of-herran · 5 months ago

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my thoughts on peterrose in season two + predictions for season three

i want to preface this by saying that i ended up enjoying season two wayyy more than season one, and i think it came down to the bigger complexity of the storyline, the unpredictable alliance switches and twists, and the depth with which the afterglow of peter and rose's experiences and relationship in season one was handled. this season's focus on angst and exploration of the psychological impact of the work on both of them and what it means for their relationship really elevated the love story for me from a pretty clean-cut "us against the world" vibe to the messiness of both of them being used to blackmail the other and their relationship straining because of the secrecy around the missions and the contradictions of rose feeling safe with peter but being constantly endangered by his work and peter needing rose around for his peace of mind but rose suffering psychologically from her proximity to the morally grey aspects of his work. chef's fucking kiss where's the next course

peterrose things i loved in season two + development from season one

rose having the option to leave anytime

while in the first season both of them had little actual choice about whether to stick together or not, circumstances that created a kind of bubble around them and aided the romance, this time around rose could have backed out repeatedly, making every time she chose to stay a decision that had as much to do with peter as with the help she thought she could give to the investigation. not only was she there at the beginning to help him gain some trust in people back and make sure he didn't steer off the ethical path, but later she also discovered for herself that even in the thick of danger (the party, the air vents situation in the last ep) she prefers to try to help rather than back away. it's a mode of thinking that will definitely lead her to sharing some of the danger of the job longer-term if the show lets her explore it.

closeness without labels

this is one aspect that i thought was handled with so much care and delicacy in a way that felt very satisfying to watch. they haven't seen each other in ten months, but she still has scores of photos saved on her phone (the show could have easily gone with one selfie, the fact she was always showing a different photo really shows they dated for a while before his posting, and were happy enough during it to constantly take pics) and doesn't hesitate to ditch her job and track him into danger because she's worried sleepless about him. she doesn't hold not calling her back over him even though she's clearly hurt about it because she knows it's out of his control, but he still apologizes and makes it clear again and again how thankful he is that she's there and how she's helped him both emotionally and logistically, like with noticing an attacker or planning the party heist. even as he wants her to leave to be safe, he doesn't make her feel like she's intruded or endangered his mission, but follows her advice and always gives her credit when she contributes to the work. they're comfortable enough with each other to cuddle and hug and kiss spontaneously, but they never discuss exactly what kind of relationship they're in because it's obviously a closeness both of them enjoy and initiate and they care more about being together than giving their relationship a label or discussing a future together at a point when he's so involved with his work and she's still sorting out how she feels about it. she doesn't pressure him about quitting and he doesn't force her to stay, he notices whenever she's upset and talks things out with her, and gives her space to process her feelings even if it means she might realize she's better off out of his kind of life. they both try to give the other whatever they might need in terms of emotional support and space to change their mind, even if that contradicts what they each would prefer the other to do or want or if it would result in emotional pain for them personally.

domesticity

i was absolutely treated to this trope this season. sharing clothes, him casually bringing her drinks while she's working, buying her food and knowing her preferences by heart, all the little jokes and fights that just made them feel like a family throughout the season. it shows clearly that their dynamic goes beyond needing each other in dangerous situations, that they were having a swell time just teasing each other. it's a quieter dynamic than the previous season, because they're both more aware of the constant and repeatedly chosen danger of the situation that is now a way of life rather than a crazy few days before things would go back to normal, but it's also more profound in how it acknowledges the trauma while showing they're still really compatible in the little safe haven of their nights at home.

partnership

they really felt like an agent couple in this season, not only in the way their skills complement the other's, but also in how they're both on the same wavelength of thinking during high-stakes situations and are able to brainstorm through them together or understand each other without words. peter didn't hesitate to tell the guy blackmailing him with rose's life to fuck off because he has faith in her ability to evade the attacker if he warns her. rose's involvement saved several of the missions from going south, and as much as he's uncomfortable with her choosing danger over safety in the moment, he clearly admires the effectiveness of her contribution. moments like when she noticed the comms being overheard and when she ambushed markus and showed peter what she'd do just by counting with her hand really show how perfectly they work as a team, and how much smoother operations in the future would go if they're both there to have each other's backs and think through problems together.

your life for hers

fuck me uppppp i love this shit soooooo much. i think one of the main jobs a writer has when developing a plotline is to explore all likely scenarios emerging from the goals and feelings of the character until that point, and the emotional development when it comes to peter protecting rose here is spectacular. while in the first season he was focused on protecting her partly from a feeling of friendship and because he wanted to do right by her and felt responsible for her, in this season it's as clear as day that he's protecting her because he values her life more than his and he's completely aware that if something happens to her it'll wreck him completely. he spends the better part of the season processing the loss of a mission partner and blaming himself for it, and it only serves to bring into focus how much worse things will be for him if rose gets hurt. she's no longer someone he's protecting because it's the right thing to do but someone so precious to him he's fraying at the edges just imagining something happening to her. she's his priority to the point that he doesn't hesitate to throw the mission and put himself in the position of a traitor that he has so much trauma about because of his father, because her being alive and safe is worth every sacrifice to him. the look on his face every time he was blackmailed is 1000000/10.

separation parallels

i really felt the upgrade of the separation scene this season, from the neat wrap-up of the hero flying off into the sunset while his girl waits happily for his call to both characters showing their emotions with all their bitter aftertaste and just feeling through a situation they can't amend right now. i absolutely love how worried rose was whenever someone slipped that peter had done something he could be charged for and all through peter explaining his decision to her, because it's not just that he loves her but that she was used against him and as long as they love each other this can happen again. peter was just excellent here, from taking the time to tell her himself to checking his urge not to get to the bottom of his feelings and taking her hands as he told her the full truth of what he feels for her. rose just breaking down crying and him hugging her and that head kiss was just sooooooooooo perfect in capturing how much they care for each other. rose's expressions as she watches him leave in the taxi and her going towards it are particularly telling, as is her struggle to maintain her smile and carefree tone while talking to noor. her reaching out to noor in the first place speaks volumes to me already, because if she didn't want to be involved with peter's world anymore i doubt she'll want to meet with anyone from that stage in her life now that she's managed to break away from it. noor wasn't buying any of her statements, and from the scene when she sensed something was wrong with her family leaving iran from rose's facial expressions alone, i think she's pretty good at reading her, and the lingering shots on her face leave little doubt rose isn't as fine as she'd like her to think.

predictions for rose in season three and beyond

my thoughts on statements of the writers and actors

the two things that are on my mind when i'm reviewing all the interviews that have addressed rose potentially not continuing with the show are that (1) the showrunners have the right to change their mind about the focus of the show whenever and although it would be like shooting themselves in the foot if they drop her that's their (very unreasonable bc i love rose to pieces) call to make, and (2) no one involved with the show would reveal a major twist before the season has even finished shooting. let's look at some statements of the cast and crew in light of that.

"We don’t want to artificially create a situation where characters have to be part of a specific season on a regular basis. We want to tell the story that feels true in that moment. I am very aware that one of the big strengths of Season 1 — and what I think is a big strength in Season 2 — are Peter and Rose together. I think the relationship is really strong. [...] Their shared trauma from these first two seasons has built this incredible bond. But is it enough to overcome the difference in their lives and their lifestyles Is something that we spend a lot of time talking about. So, not trying to duck the question, but we’re still creatively looking into all that. This, hopefully, with the success, will be a long-running show, and the question you raise is something that we talk a lot about in the writers room." (source)

they're clearly still writing the season and figuring out where they want to place rose in the story without compromising her moral code, and i think they might have wanted to hear the audience's and critics' responses to this as well before they wrap up this season's plot. journalists keep bringing this up in interviews and i think that's very telling to how the public as a whole and not just the shipping fandom views the show as about the both of them, so i hope that interest makes a difference in how they perceive the future of the show as a successful one as well, since they do need people to stick around and characters are a huge draw (case in point i started this for the couple rather than the plot, and didn't even find the plot engaging until season two, but i'd never spend hours of my morning writing an analysis for their excellent handling of plot only). they're clearly aware of peter and rose as a huge boon to the show, but also want to make sure that either of the actors not being able to continue with the series isn't going to put the whole thing out of business. one way i see this playing out is with rose having reduced screen time in season three but coming in as a regular in season four for example, if another season of peter doing agent stuff while she develops something (a program, fighting skills) is what's required for her to fit smoothly in the events surrounding him. i can also see they're anxious not to repeat plot points and make copies of previously successful seasons, so i expect rose's future involvement in the plot to be more creative and not replicate her previous actions, e.g. her not seeking him out on her own in a similar way again, but likely coming in as a partner already in some official capacity.

"That will be a part of Season 3, him trying to emotionally and logistically deal with the unintended consequences of his actions in season 2. [...] The goal isn’t darkness but what I would say is — and I’m involved in a coalition that talks a lot about how mental health is portrayed on TV — one of the things that we wanted to do in Season 2 was model Rose’s behavior as being how you want to approach trauma and violence in your life. She’s seeking professional help, and she’s making progress. Peter, on the other hand, is approaching it in a very old fashioned, very masculine, frankly, way of burying it, ignoring it, and that doesn’t often work. I’m always adamant that I don’t want the show to become so dark and impenetrable, so I think you’re going to see a lot of sides of Peter in Season 3 in the same way that you did in Season 2. I hear your question, and no, the show isn’t about going to the abyss with Peter." (source)

kuddos to them for that honestly i absolutely loved the ptsd portrayal in season two, but the main thing i'm getting from this response is that it's very unlikely for rose to be killed off to remove her from the plot at this point, or to double down on peter's trauma, because that's how peter would define "going into the abyss" imho.

"I would say that that moment, that breakup scene, felt true to us, the writers, as we were crafting the second season. That they live in two very different worlds, that he wants to be in this world that's dangerous, that she doesn't particularly want to be in a world that's dangerous, and yet they have this incredibly strong connection forged over living through and helping each other through these traumatic events. So there's always going to be this incredible connection between the two. What that will mean for their onscreen pairing I think is something that we continue to talk about and will figure out. So, I don't know yet, because we haven't definitively decided what it means for the characters. I will just tell you that we love the character of Rose. We love the character of Peter. We love Luciane and Gabriel as actors. I think they're tremendous together. When we started to work on season 2, I came back to the writers with what I felt were strengths of the show from season 1, and the very first one I wrote down was Peter and Rose together. So we don't take that lightly. At the same time, we don't want to craft something that feels inauthentic just to be a fan service, to keep them together in ways that might feel unrealistic. So that will be the responsibility and the struggle of the writing staff and myself as we craft further seasons." (source)

i think bringing them on the same page about the work can be done with the kind of emotional development they pursued when they explored the impact of trauma and morally grey choices on both of them, so i see this mostly as a matter of narrative time and writing effort, providing they're willing to put those in, rather than the characters being naturally incompatible in terms of their life goals. case in point, rose's characterization in season one came down to happy to break the rules, threaten people with arms, steal things, and kill to protect others or to avenge her loved ones. it's only in season two that we see her struggle with threatening people and endangering lives, so that was a very conscious narrative choice and a huge pivot for her character arc from a tiny daredevil (aspects of her we still see in the party scene for example) to the voice of reason in ethically dubious situations. this kind of major change of heart can happen easily with sufficient screen time and the kind of plot points to inspire it, and is completely within the writers' abilities should they want it to take place.

"I have no idea [whether Rose will be back in season three], and I can’t spoil anything. I wish I could tell you, but Peter does say ‘No, don’t come looking for me,’ and I don’t think Rose takes well to direction; she does whatever she wants. So you never, never know." (source)

it's worth seeing the video of her answering this question, because honestly to me she seems happy to give a little hint of something bigger. it's either her character sixth sense talking (and she's right), or she already knows she'll be brought back to wrap-up the season. i think rose showing up unexpectedly, and prepared, when peter's been spending the season dealing with choosing her safety over remaining clean, is only going to contribute to that theme.

"You can have love for someone without physically expressing it. I think that’s, I don’t want to say trope, but a lazy way of showing that two people care about each other is having them hook up. Sacrificing your life for someone or putting your life at risk to save someone, I think, is a bigger testament of love than giving them a kiss or something like that. The relationship is important to both of them, and you see that through their commitment to one another and keeping one another alive, regardless if that means they’re going to be together, at least they’ll have done what they can to protect the other." (source)

turn this shit upppppppp i love this so much... but this brings me to the fact that as long as they're in love they will be used against each other, so it's time to develop some scenarios from there (and i don't mean them not being in love anymore bc that's just unrealistic at this point; it would require either of them making choices the other can't understand and the entire series becoming more dark, "you can't love anyone"-style, than the writers seem to want it to; giving peter another love interest instead also just seems like undoing a ton of hard work and audience interest just to pull a james bond, and i think they care about being original way more).

plot-realistic scenarios

i'm using this term (likely made-up by me, a writer finishing a book atm btw) here to indicate scenarios that need to be followed for the plot to feel satisfying, e.g. ignoring them would require some disbelief suspension and might make the audience doubt they're seeing the logical development of events and characters as they have been built up so far.

rose is going to continue being used to threaten peter

if part of his goal next season is to eventually turn against the guy holding rose's life over his head, peter needs to make sure she'll survive that plot point, either by protecting her again or warning her and making sure she's in a safe environment while he takes the guy down, for which we need at least a cameo, though that is the laziest way to wrap this up imho. i think the guy will absolutely keep tabs on her so he can use that if peter goes astray, so she'll be involved in this as long as peter's an agent even if she's living a normal life, and i doubt peter will be able to make anyone believe that he doesn't care about her since all it takes for the truth to come out is for someone to point a gun at her head.

rose would benefit from some combat training or security if she's going to make it through this show alive

at the very least, keeping rose out of the show without killing her means also providing her with the means to protect herself as long as peter is being blackmailed with her life, which is one of the few plot points that seems to be a given for the next season. a basic agent training course that would allow her to rebuff attackers, or security trailing her to make sure peter isn't compromised because of her, are the least catherine can do to make sure her plans for peter are successful.

catherine doesn't seem to be done trying to use rose

at multiple points throughout this season, catherine was impressed with rose's coding and recruited her help for a job, and i doubt she'll just let an asset go if she thinks she can be useful. she knows peter's a weak spot for rose that she can utilize to put pressure on her (like with the security cameras, the consequence of rose's choice not to join would have been peter being exposed to more danger, so she changed her mind), and since peter is pretty central to her plans for season three, it makes sense to keep rose closer rather than further. she knows rose can get through to peter when no one else can or take him out of the path she's set out for him, so risking her being too far out of sight to influence strikes me as unreasonable. and what better way to bring rose back into the action than with a bang, by placing her in the middle of a covert mission in later eps (preferably without warning peter to amplify the emotional climax of the reunion) with the kind of skills that would make her at least competent in avoiding capture when things go wrong.

the show has barely scratched the surface of rose as an agent

i mean this seriously, there's so much to work with when it comes to her becoming an agent or helping out with some of the jobs or even if she's joining the action as a voice on the comms while she's hacking some system. peter won't always be in the position to make sure she's safe, and she's been showing so much resilience, quick thinking, and willingness to pull a gun or stab someone during a fight. she's smart, a creative and smooth liar, and refuses to give up even when the odds of her making it are slim. she'll be an asset to any mission the show involves her in, and keeping her in a california office is a huge waste of potential.

rose's arc is far from wrapped up

the thing with rose as a character is that her arc could have been wrapped up in season one without bringing her into season two and the show would still have made sense despite the (disappointing for me the rose fan) shift in focus from romance to political intrigue. the showrunners seem keen to be making that shift anyway, but they decided to keep peter and rose's relationship as not only a subplot but the driving force behind peter's moral conflict and the starting point of him becoming a double agent in season three. rose received a great amount of screen time, agency, and emotional development, but it wasn't enough to feel that she exited the story cleanly and permanently. she clearly still has a lot of processing to do when it comes to both her feelings for peter and whether she wants to join the action and save lives (at multiple points in the show she turned back and rejoined dangerous situations not only out of love for him, but because i think she knows that without her input, chances of things fucking up increase exponentially) despite the danger to her safety, mental health, and moral integrity, and the way to conclude these plot points is to give her more screen time to get full closure or process her trauma and decide to become more involved with night action. even with new storylines and characters appearing, the show will only benefit from keeping rose and peter's relationship as a subplot and exploring the shift in their dynamic and feelings if she's cleared to join the missions on par with him or becomes an agent on other postings unbeknownst to him at first (night action picking up the phone when he has a crisis in season three or her appearing in a completely unrelated undercover mission happening in the same place he's working his target so both of them are thrown off-balance by the proximity). how will their romance develop if she's as competent a fighter as him, if she puts herself at risk as regularly, if their superiors try to use them against each other to manipulate both to their ends? now that's something i'd kill to watch.

#it's been a while since i made a POST omg #if anyone wants my thoughts on something feel free to send an ask!#haven't slept properly in three days binging this and i'm halfway dosing on the keyboard yet i have THOUGHTS #the night agent #the night agent netflix #peter sutherland #rose larkin #sutherkin #peter x rose #peterrose #peterose #larkland #nightrose #also heads up if you read this far i'm not going to write fic about them bc (1) extremely busy with my own book and #(2) the showrunners are doing a great job atm they don't need my help to get this right if they choose to include her in the future

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