#and not because she was angsty or seeking attention

[sincerelyneo]

no control | l.jn

“i can't contain this anymore, i'm all yours i've got no control”

💿now playing: no control by one direction

❯ summary: The guy sitting at the bar next to you seems pretty smitten - and Jeno hates it. He wants to be the one making you blush…or more accurately, scream his name.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, friends with benefits

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), jealousy, arguing, wall sex, swearing, back scratching/marking?, possessiveness, public sex, reader uses she/her pronouns, pet names, slight begging, a bit angsty, porn with feelings, literally just jeno being petty and jealous.

Jeno hates to admit it, but Mark was right. Casual, no-strings-attached sex does in fact suck. And God does he know it. It’s hard to forget when his friends keep bringing you up.

“Who’s she talking to?” Renjun asks.

Jisung replies with a simple shrug before Chenle chimes in with a quick, “I don’t know, haven’t seen him before.”

Him. Jeno feels that pronoun hit harder than expected, but he forces himself to keep cool. He doesn’t turn around to see who’s got your attention, even though every fiber of his being screams and begs for him to look.

His spying friends keep giggling amongst themselves as they sit on the stools at the bar. But it wasn’t until Renjun throws back the last of his whiskey and says: “He looks pretty into her.” That Jeno’s gaze is forced to find you.

Jeno’s too proud to admit it but he finds you instantly, you’re like a magnet, a force that he’s drawn to. And truthfully, he considers it a talent that he can seek you out of a crowd in seconds.

There you are, with some guy. Some guy he didn’t know. Some guy that, from what he could see from the side of his head, was probably good-looking. The good-looking ones always liked to try and talk to you.

Not that it matters, Jeno reminds himself, dragging his eyes away from you for his own sake. You hadn’t come to this party with him; he never even asked you. He agreed to keep this casual. You could spend your time with whoever you damn well pleased.

Even if that wasn’t him. And even if that’s a bitter pill for him to swallow. 

“Leave him alone guys,” Jisung finally speaks up. “They’re probably just talking. Besides aren’t you staying over at Y/N’s tonight anyway Jen?” He asked. 

Jeno takes his eyes off you for a second to look at his friends, he’s thankful for the reminder that he was supposed to be coming over to your place tonight. But now his mind is racing. Maybe you would change your mind, ditching him to hang out with that good-looking man instead.

You’re not like that, he tells himself. While you hadn’t attended the party with him, you had promised to spend the night with him, and you weren’t one to break promises. Besides, you didn’t bring strangers you just met home, either. He had nothing to worry about.

Except…what if he did?

When he dared to glance over to the last spot he had seen you across the lavish bar, he wasn’t expecting to still find you there. Surely, you would’ve found an opening to excuse yourself and re-join the friends you’d arrived with, but there you were. Still talking to that asshole. Smiling at him. Enjoying yourself.

Maybe it was just the whiskey talking, but Jeno felt like he was being replaced as if he was across the world and not merely across the room. Because it had been well over half an hour since he had first seen them together. And who knew how long you two had been talking before he or his friends even noticed?

Jeno doesn’t like this feeling. So he orders another drink.

He tries to ignore you – tries to focus on his friends but they keep mentioning it. Mentioning you. Which makes it so damn difficult to stop his eyes from sliding over, and noticing every little detail about you. 

The short dress that had ridden up from where you’d sat down and crossed your legs, showing off more than enough of your toned thighs. The deep black of it suited you, and not just because it was Jeno’s favourite colour, but because it complemented the tumble of hair falling over your shoulder. You looked like a goddess, untouchable. Especially when you smile. God, he loves when you smile. 

Just not when he’s not the one doing it. He should be the only one to make you laugh, to make you feel more relaxed at a party. Because he knows you, all the little things and your quirks.

But not once did you glance his way; and he’s fully aware of that because Jeno has definitely been staring. You’re ignoring him, and he hates it. So fucking much.

Maybe the alchohol was catching up to him, finally settling into his bloodstream and mixing dangerously with his jealous streak because he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he has to do something. 

Impulsively, Jeno abandons the conversation he had already half checked out of with his friends, and doesn’t waste a second marching over to you and the man. Ideally, Jeno wanted you to be thrilled to have him sweep you away, but when he arrived at the booth you and him had been sitting at, Jeno sees your eyes flash with an undeniable ‘what the fuck are you doing over here?’

“Nice to see you, Y/N,” Jeno greets you charmingly, sliding right into the booth on your side without an invitation, blatantly interrupting.

“Hi, Jeno,” you reply, keeping your tone polite despite not moving to give him more room.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” It hasn’t. “I thought I’d get you a drink and we could catch up?”

Jeno’s attempt to get you away is feeble, but it’s not exactly like he had enough time to devise a good plan. He was being impulsive, jealous, reckless – acting on instinct and he instinct was telling him that he need you, by his side. 

“Maybe later, yeah Jen?”.

“Why? You having too much fun already?” he asks, which was rather a loaded question, considering you had company sitting right across from you. 

“I’m having a lot of fun,” you emphasise a little more than necessary, glancing at the brunette across the table and playfully rolling your eyes. It had the man smiling in understanding, which was quick to piss Jeno off. 

“Really?” he said flatly. “You don’t look it.”

“Maybe you don’t know what I look like when I’m having fun.”

“I think I know better than most.”

That’s when Jeno squeezes your knee, and you want to disagree, but you couldn’t. Because Jeno knew, alright. He knew pretty damn well.

The guy opposite you shifts in his seat, probably aware that he had suddenly become a third wheel, thanks to the flirty tone in Jeno’s voice. Jeno gets a sick sense of enjoyment watching the man get uncomfortable – all the confirmation that whatever little plan he had going on was working. It made him only want to do it more.

So Jeno oh so casually reaches to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear. You try not to react, but your head tilts slightly towards him, and your features soften. 

“You look beautiful,” Jeno compliments, fingers trailing down your hair, brushing over your shoulder before they settled back on your knee. “Black suits you.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. 

“Are you two friends?” The man asks, reminding you both of his presence.

“Sort of,” you began to say, just as Jeno declares, “Very close friends.”

With your cheeks now flushing, you cut him a look that he largely ignores, before feeling the need to explain yourself to the friendly guy you had just met. “We catch up sometimes. Occasionally.”

“We’ve known each other for ages.” Jeno emphasises because he liked that fact. Liked knowing he was here first, having that leverage and advantage over any guy you’d ever meet.   

“I should leave you to it then, let you two catch up,” the man says through a tight lipped smile as he began to slide out of the booth. He knew exactly what Jeno was trying to do. “Nice meeting you, Y/N. See you around sometime.”

“I hope so!” You reply trying to sound enthusiastic. You didn’t want to give Jeno the satisfaction he was clearly hoping for. 

Once the man turned his back on you, you grab your glass and take an extra generous gulp of your drink. 

Before Jeno had the chance to open his mouth and say something else that was only going to irritate you, you lean into him. 

“What the fuck was that?” you hiss. “Out. Get out. Let me out.”

Shuffling along as he was told, Jeno watches dumbly as you hastily slip out of the booth after the stranger, tugging the hem of your dress down with one hand and clutching your nearly empty glass in the other.

Jeno blinks for a second as you try to parade away from him. Then it registers in his mind and he’s chasing behind you and out of the bar. That’s when he tugs on your arm to stop you in your tracks. 

“Y/N. Stop, please.”

Much to Jeno’s surprise, you do as he says, turning around and holding up a commanding finger.  It almost seemed like a joke, but there was no humour in your tone when you asked, “What were you thinking?”

Jeno tilted his head to the side, tonguing the side of his cheek. 

“We weren’t at that party together! You knew that,” you continue your rant.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak to you in public,” Jeno replies naïvely with an innocent shrug of his shoulders.

“You know that’s not what we do. We don’t hang out at social events, Jeno. We agreed on casual. I don’t want a relationship.”

Casual. Yeah, you seemed to really not want a relationship when you were chatting up that guy for ages. The thought makes Jeno scoff, his gaze dropping to his feet. 

 You cross your arms over your chest, exhaling, “What?”

“That guy,” he simply says, his eyes flashing with a slight fury when he looks back up at you. “You were with that guy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Who was he?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“It does matter when you refuse to even speak to me in public, but spend your whole night with him.”

Jeno’s smile is long gone, and almost, almost, you wanted to forget this whole thing and bring it back. You hated when Jeno was mad at you, not that he was very often, but he was being irrational right now. 

“I just met him, it was all friendly” you explain. “I can’t believe you’re jealous!”

“I’m not jealous!”

Jeno knew he was, but there was not a chance of him admitting that seeing you with any other man drove him absolutely insane. Every single damn time. Still, you know better.

“You obviously are! Jeno, you know how I feel about you–”

“Do I? You didn’t seem to be into me tonight.”

“Because you came out of nowhere and acted like I was all yours!”

“You are mine!”

That was the wrong thing to say. Jeno knew it as soon as it came out his mouth, saw it in the way your expression tightened slightly. Even so, he wouldn’t take back what he thought was true.

“We haven’t defined anything–” you fumble, “Infact, I think we did the opposite—” 

“How would you like it if I’d been flirting with another girl all night?” He cuts in.

“It wouldn’t matter,” you lie. “You can do what you want.

Jeno takes a few steps towards you, and it makes you unconsciously hold your breath. He’s so tall and intimidating and goddam sexy—wait you’re mad at him right now! 

“What I really want, Y/N, is to be with you,” he spells it out frustratingly slowly. “Seeing you all night long in that short dress that barely covers your ass and knowing I can’t touch you, claim you, fucking kills me.” 

Your eyes betray you, because despite every brain wave in your mind telling you to yell at him for that slightly misogynistic statement—your eyes still soften. 

“Well, you should’ve just said that,” you try to explain instead of lecturing him. “If you’ve been feeling like that you should’ve talked to me instead of acting like a caveman.” 

“You don’t listen.”

“I’m listening now.”

Jeno blinks at you, his jaw loosening as his eyes watch your gaze drift down to his lips. The action is loud enough for him to not waste another second before his hands move to your waist, pulling you in to the kiss he had been dying to give you all night. 

It’s harder than he would’ve given you earlier, more possessive – oh, definitely possessive when he forces your back against the brick wall at the side of the bar and your arms have no choice but to hastily wrap around his neck. You stumble a little, but he keeps a firm grip on you.

If you wanted him to tell you how he felt, well, that’s exactly what you’re going to get.

He tells you in the desperate way that he kisses you, lips parting and unwilling to leave yours. He tells you by the way he presses his body flush against yours, pinning you to the brick so you can’t slip away from him, not again. He tells you in the low moan that escapes him when your hand tangles up in his hair and your own lips work just as eager.

When he breaks away for a moment, he takes his time to just look at you. So pretty, so desperate, and so undoubtedly all his. 

And when you gaze back at him through long lashes and eyes radiating with lust, he has to groan because he’s the one making you like that. He’s the one getting you to bite down on those pretty lips, lips that were made for him, belong to him. 

But you’re feeling too desperate and he’s taking too long. So within a mere few seconds, you’re reaching for him again. It has him thinking maybe you’re trying to tell him the same thing. But there was no need to do that. Jeno had made it abundantly clear that he was yours. 

There was still a lingering frustration fuelling the two of you – mostly from you; it was jealousy for Jeno. He is jealous that someone else – another man – had gotten to spend the night at the party with you. He needed you to know that he hated to see you with him, and that this – this was never going to be better with anyone else. 

No matter how hard a man would try, they could never know you the way that he did. They could never make you feel the way he did. 

Ridiculously, you want to apologise despite him reading the situation all wrong. You hadn’t been flirting with anyone else, and you thought it didn’t matter who you chose to simply talk to. You never knew he’d feel this threatened. Never suspected it would upset him this much. 

You proposed the idea of keeping things casual to not get hurt. Jeno was unbelievably attractive and could have his pick of any woman. You thought keeping him at arm's length would protect you—figures it’s only hurting him. 

Regardless, no matter the context there was no denying that he was being a jealous ass tonight and the two of you had argued. An argument that you were both getting very turned on by and had you conflicted between getting down on your knees for him or letting him fuck you against the wall, outside and all. 

You always found great thrill in surprising him: breaking from the feverish kisses, you reach up under your dress and yank down your underwear. The delicate fabric falls around your ankles, and you kick them off to the side, inviting him to what he so clearly wanted.

I’m yours right here, right now, your eyes tell him.

And you really thought you had won at the whole surprising thing, until he hooks your legs around his waist and presses his hips harder against you. You never pegged yourself or Jeno for being an exhibitionist but something about him taking you against the wall of the very same bar he thought a man was flirting with you at, awakens something feral inside him. 

All of a sudden the wall seemed like the perfect spot for make up sex. Honestly, Jeno just wanted any sex. As long as it was with you. 

He exhales heavily when he starts to ease his pants down and you fumble to undo his shirt buttons. But you get far too distracted by his lips beginning to trail down your throat. He reaches for your thigh, smoothing up your soft skin, as he hitches up your dress around your hips. 

You’re so desperate for him you can’t help but whimper. And just when you think ‘Yes, finally,’ a cocky grin spreads across his face as his finger slips effortlessly (and too goddamn slowly) over your centre. His teasing is somewhat annoying, but it’s so hard to be pissed at him when he’s touching you like that. Hell, it’s hard to be mad at him in general—you’re weak to him and that’s exactly why you’re pushed up against a wall. 

Jeno picks up his pace as soon as he begins stroking you with another finger. You squirm against the wall and he watches that hungry expression grow as he rubs you rhythmically, fingers sliding up and down, up and down, so easily from how wet you are. Pride swells in his chest because he did that. 

Every moan that leaves your lips is his own little reward, one that he is dying to receive more, and more, and more of. Forever. 

Jeno knows you’re close. It would’ve been easy to get you off right there, and he would’ve, had he not abruptly pulled away from you. You curse under your breath at the loss of contact. 

“Jeno!” 

He smirks, loving the way you squirm as he nudges your legs further apart. His breath is hot against your skin as he murmurs, “Got to tell me what you want, baby.” 

You groan frustratingly, since apparently he wasn’t going to give it to you unless you said something. “I want you, now. Just need you inside me.”  

He smirks, the grip he had on your thighs tightening and the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his shirt. He shifts his hips, pushing the crown of his cock against your entrance — slowly, sensually, tormentingly. 

You lean into him, nails digging into the fabric on his back as he presses his forehead against your neck, soft hisses escaping him as he feels you — wet and tight. 

“This pussy was fucking made for me,” he growls, cock buried to the hilt. He could stay there forever, selfishly he wants to, but he can hear your whimpers and the need to please you becomes priority. 

He bottoms out and then his hips are snapping forward hard, fast, possessive. Whatever words you wanted to say dissolves into a senseless moan. His thrusts become more erratic and needy and the pace has you clenching down around him. Fuck. 

Jeno stills. His breath ghosts over your collarbones and his fingers dig even further into your hips. You know that look, he’s struggling to keep himself under control, which, given the circumstances is the last fucking thing you want. 

“Not gonna last long if you keep doing that baby.” 

He’s trying to reason with you, but before you really have time to think about what you’re doing you’re clawing at his back, tightening your legs around and digging the heels of your shoes into his back hard enough that he growls, low and frightening in a way that makes your spine tingle. 

“Fuck,” he grits out thrusting into you hard. The sound of skin hitting skin is loud and vulgar in the middle of the street, but you don’t care and can’t care because fuck, all you can think about is how it feels as he rocks into you, again and again and again. 

“Jeno,” you gasp out, grip digging into his shoulders as he fucks you, ruthless and unforgiving. 

He’s relishing in it, you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he’s trying to fucking burn the sight into his brain forever, the sounds you’re making and the way you shiver in his arms and the sheer force of it all. He groans and when he kisses you again it’s nearly violent, a clash of lips and tongues and teeth. 

“All mine,” he groans against your mouth. He hisses as you bite at his bottom lip, retaliating with a growl and driving his hips into yours with a newfound ruthlessness. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Oh—fuck please,” you gasp out, breaths coming out in little huffs in time with the movement of his body. 

“Not what I asked,” he lowers his voice, serious. His pace slows down and it has you squirming and crying out.

“Fuck yes—yours Jeno. Always been yours. Just please don’t stop—” 

Jeno groans and kisses your neck. He picks up his pace again. The same low tone in his voice as he promises, “I’m all yours too.” 

You swear those three simple words were the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Your walls flutter around him and you don’t miss the prideful grin on his face as his hand moves down from your hip and his thumb presses against your clit.

His fingers move hurriedly and the pleasure is suddenly blinding and white and fuck fuck—

“Jeno yes just like that I’m gonna—”

“Good fucking girl,” he chokes out, your orgasm shaking him to his core, making his thrusts half-desperate. 

His rhythm falters and his own breath catches. He digs his fingers into your hip hard enough that it makes you hiss and then he falters and slows and gives one, two, three more thrusts before pinning you harder with a shaky, breathless sigh.

The two of you stay like that for a beat before he lowers you back to the ground, pulling down your dress. Then slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips and licks, tasting you with a roll of his eyes. 

“I mean it, you know,” He quietly says. “I’m all yours.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into a revering kiss, and you tell him the exact same thing back. 

[spaghettiposts]

It’s okay to need help

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Snapping at your wife was the last thing you wanted to do, but between the pressures of financial disputes you do. You both seek to make things right.

Warnings: arguments, slight angst, hurt/comfort, this was supposed to be way more angsty but I’m weak. Wife Wanda fluff

Word count: 1.1k

A/n: Honestly just a short little drabble and writing practice, I might do more writing prompts. This little thing took a toll on me and I’m suffering through writers block 😞 reblogs are SUPER appreciated please yall 🙏

Your eyes burned and you weren’t sure if it was from the dim kitchen lighting or the tears prickling inside you. 

Papers were messily scattered across the table, their contents a jumbled blur that you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on. Not while your mind was elsewhere—with Wanda.

Wanda who wasn’t sitting with you like she always was when going over expenses, stroking your shoulders to relieve some of the tension, laying her head to rest on you while her lips pressed delicately against your cheek. You missed your wife, by gods you did. But you were stubborn.

Instead of apologizing, you’d gaze over longingly hoping she’d somehow see you—read your mind and spare you just one look, but her attention remained focused on the television, curled into the couch; playing her comfort show. 

It drove you crazy how desperately you wanted her to see you, but you knew that wasn’t fair of you to ask.

Arguments with Wanda felt like the ground crumbling beneath your feet, threatening to swallow you whole at any moment. The sight of her tear-stained cheeks tore at your soul, and you hated the way it was your fault. Hurting her was a vow you promised never to make, but relationships wouldn’t be without their faults, no matter how hard one tried.

In those initial months of calling Wanda your wife, every moment felt like peaceful bliss, a love so pure you thought how could loving her possibly be a sin in God’s eyes? Then the bliss turned to ignorance, somewhere along the lines.

Fights became frequent, and crying did too. 

And hell, you figured maybe after marriage there wouldn’t be so many. For years, you shared a room in the compound, and you knew each other's routines by heart, you knew Wanda. But in the compound, there weren't any expenses, not like now, now that you were sitting at the kitchen island with an abundance of bills that only seemed to keep stacking up. And up. And up. 

Waves of stress fell on your shoulders as you stared, wondering how you got into this financial state. Never had you once felt as useless as you had now and it was only digging into you further, on the verge of crushing the sanctuary you had built with Wanda; that was threatening to crumble, and you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. Not when your heart ached so badly for your wife.

Setting aside your previous frustrations, you pushed your chair out and let the papers fall from your hands, figuring you’d deal with them later. You sucked in a breath, trying to regain some composure but with Wanda? Collecting yourself was pretty impossible. 

Crossing the living room you cautiously approached your wife, slowly sitting beside her but still she didn’t turn to acknowledge you. She lay with her back facing you, tucked into a small crimson blanket. 

You smiled fondly, recalling how you had gotten the blanket because it reminded you of her, one that she promptly stole, with the excuse of it smelling like you bringing her solace when you weren’t around. The sight of her like this shattered your heart. 

With a sigh, you inched closer until you were pressed against her back. When she didn’t tense, you wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her close. Wanda sighed as you peppered kisses against her skin, first on her cheek and then her neck. The act wasn’t sexual of any kind, but loving lingering ones you knew she loved, needed, and craved after every argument.

Knowing that she preferred your touch, you gave yourself to her, smiling when her fingers interlaced with yours. She still needed you just as much as you needed her. 

A beat of silence passed as you relaxed further into each other, and your eyes momentarily strayed away from the TV to shift into a seated position. You knew you had to say something before things got harder. 

Before Wanda could question you spoke up: 

“I’m sorry Wanda, I never meant for things to get so…heated.” You murmured sincerely, running your fingers through the loose strands of her hair and Wanda sighed.  

Leaning against your side, Wanda mimicked your position, bringing her knees to her chest. 

She gave you a halfhearted smile. “I’m sorry too, I should’ve come to you first before calling Tony for money this month. I messed up.”

You denied it with your head, bringing her into a warm embrace, and kissing the crown of her head. “No no, you did nothing wrong. Your intentions were good and I shouldn’t have shouted that way. I just…it’s difficult for me, you know?” Your explanation came slowly, averting her gaze, and Wanda gripped your shirt tighter. “I don’t like asking for help.” 

The confession fell flat on your lips, leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth and you felt silly. But instead of ridicule, you were met with the soft touch of Wanda’s hands, cupping your cheeks as if to reassure your embarrassment. Her thumbs felt good on your skin and slowly coaxed you to look at her.  

You opened your mouth to speak but before you got the chance Wanda was bringing your lips together in a slow tender kiss and you sighed. No matter how long you lived you were certain of one thing: you’d never tire of the feeling of Wanda’s lips on yours. 

When the need for air became overwhelming, you reluctantly broke the kiss, shivering at her touch. Her forehead resting on yours, breath fanning your lips. 

“It’s okay to need help, detka, and we need help.” She affirmed, gently squeezing your hands while stealing kisses between each word till your frown disappeared. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately at her actions, not being able to frown anymore and finally pulling her into a longer kiss, something you both craved.

“I’ll talk to Tony tomorrow.” You tell her, and her lips purse in hesitation.

“Dorogaya…if you’re not ready—“

“I’m ready Wanda, I don’t want to be worrying about how much we spend anymore. I want to focus on more important things, like us. I mean you still want kids right?” You asked tentatively and Wanda stifled a laugh at how stiffened you were. 

“Yes Y/n, I still want kids with you.” Wanda chuckled softly, shaking her head. “But I’m serious, and kids are far from where we are now. Are you absolutely sure?” 

“I’m sure.” You nodded. 

Still, Wanda pulled away from you, studying your expression. When she found nothing, she softened, giving you a supportive nod and a big grin. Your smile widened, and you advanced on her the next second earning a squeal, peppering her face with kisses and laughing along with her.

All you could think of was how grateful you were to have a wife like her. 

Change was hard but with Wanda, the weight felt easier to carry, and with time you’d learn you wouldn’t have to bear that alone anymore. There were still things you had to fix and you wouldn’t rest until you made things right with your wife but for now, you had a phone call to make. Within weeks you’d be changing jobs and attitudes. Things wouldn’t always be an easy route but you’d sure as hell try harder. For her.

[oldsoul007]

coincidence

nicholas chavez x reader

based of this request: Hi! I have an ideia for Nicholas Chaves! Something inspire by "Coincidence", by Sabrina Carpenter. Something like Nic is dating the reader but he cheats her up with his ex, Victoria. A loooot of angsty

summary: nicholas cheats on y/n and it’s no coincidence

I had always felt a special connection with Nicholas. Our relationship had blossomed over time, filled with laughter, shared dreams, and deep conversations. We had become each other's confidants, our bond seemingly unbreakable.

One evening, I was scrolling through my phone when a message from a mutual friend, Cooper, popped up. It was a screenshot of Nicholas and his ex, Victoria, in a compromising position. My heart sank as I stared at the image, a mix of disbelief and pain flooding my senses.

I confronted Nicholas that night, my voice trembling with hurt. "How could you do this to us?" I asked, tears streaming down my face. Nicholas looked away, unable to meet my gaze.

"It was a mistake, y/n," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

My voice trembled with anger as I confronted Nicholas. "How could you do this to us? I saw the messages, Nicholas. It's not a fucking coincidence."

Nicholas tried to defend himself, his voice rising in frustration. "It was a mistake, baby! I didn't mean for it to happen."

"A mistake?" My eyes filled with tears. "You don't just accidentally cheat on someone. If you loved me, you wouldn't have ever done this."

Nicholas looked away, unable to meet my gaze. "I do love you, y/n. I just... I got caught up in the moment." His eyes pleading for forgiveness

I shook my head, my heart breaking. "If you truly loved me, you would have never hurt me like this. It's not just about a moment, Nicholas. It's about trust, and you've destroyed it." “You know I should’ve known she’s always someone back in your life and in the same damn city as you on the same damn night.”

But my heart was heavy with pain as I looked at him. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of broken promises and shattered trust. It was a moment of raw honesty, a painful realization that love alone couldn't mend the damage that had been done.

But the damage was done. The trust we had built was shattered, replaced by a gaping wound in my heart. I felt a deep sense of betrayal, the weight of his actions pressing down on me.

“I’m leaving, I can’t even look at you right now” I said walking out of our shared apartment. “Baby come on, at least tell me where you’re going?” was the last thing I heard from Nicholas. I drove to coopers house because I couldn’t trust myself driving for longer. I look at my phone and see a stream and calls for Nicholas begging to know where i went.

The betrayal cut deep, leaving my feeling lost and heartbroken. In my moment of despair, I turned to Cooper, a trusted friend who always had a way of comforting me and making me feel safe.

With tears in my eyes, I made my way to Cooper's house, seeking solace and a place to stay. Cooper welcomed me with open arms, understanding my pain without needing words. As we sat together, I poured out my heart, letting out all the hurt and confusion that had been weighing me down. “God, I feel like such an idiot coop.” “This is not your fault y/n, Nicholas is the idiot, to cheat on you is fucking pathetic.”

Cooper listened attentively, offering a shoulder to lean on and a comforting presence. In that moment, I felt grateful for his unwavering support and friendship. I knew that with Cooper by my side, I would find the strength to heal and move forward from the heartache Nicholas had caused.

Days turned into weeks, and the pain didn't subside. Every corner of my life was a reminder of what we had lost. I would see couples walking hand in hand and feel a pang of sorrow, knowing that our own love story had been tainted by dishonesty.

I tried to move on, but the memories of Nicholas and our time together haunted me. The laughter we shared, the plans we made, all felt like a cruel joke now. I would often find myself staring at old photos, wondering where it all went wrong.

In the end, I realized that I deserved better. I deserved someone who would cherish me and remain faithful. As we began to pick up the pieces of my broken heart, I vowed never to let anyone let me feel this way again. The road to healing was long, but I knew I had the strength to walk it.

Nicholas had been trying to win me back ever since the night I found out about him cheating with his ex. Every attempt he made seemed to only reopen old wounds.

"Y/n, please, I made a mistake," Nicholas pleaded, his voice raw with emotion as we stood in my living room. "I want us to work things out."

My eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "A mistake? You think you can just say sorry and everything will be okay?" I retorted, my voice trembling. "You wanted to have both of us, Nicholas. You can't have it both ways."

Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. "I know I messed up, but I love you, y/n. Please, I can't lose you." He begged.

"Love?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "Are you hearing yourself!? Just stop, Nicholas, stop bullshiting me, If you loved me, you wouldn't have betrayed me like that. You can't just expect me to forgive and forget."

The argument intensified, our voices rising with each exchanged word. The pain and betrayal were too fresh, too deep for me to simply move past. Nicholas's attempts to reconcile only seemed to make things worse, as the reality of his actions continued to drive a wedge between us.

In the end, the conversation left us both emotionally drained, with Nicholas realizing that some mistakes couldn't be easily undone, and I was struggling to protect my heart from further hurt.

[nahoney22]

Congratulations on the followers⭐️ I have a scenario I think you’ll absolutely smash! If possible can I have the prompt “I want to help you… if you’ll let me.” With Hunter and a F!reader.

Hunter is quite hard on reader but only because he’s protective but it comes across super badly and one night you had enough of his nagging and go to a bar for a drink but start getting a bit hassled by a drunk patron and hunter comes to help you out? BUT reader can fully handle herself bc bossbitch 😆 Would love it to be angsty, classic enemies to lovers and it may end with a little smooch?

Thank you if you do this and no worries if not ♥️

4000 Follower Prompt Celebration

Hunter X F!Reader

word count: 3.3k

prompt:

“I want to help you… if you’ll let me.”

authors note: thank you for the request! Love this idea. Enjoy and sorry for the wait 🤍

warnings: enemies to lovers, drunk patron who can’t take no for an answer, canon typical violence, angsty, mild injury to reader, reader gets insulted, female reader, hunter is a bit of an arse at first, first kiss which is a little steamy, protective hunter. I

The aftermath of the latest mission left a sour taste lingering in your mouth, the tension between you and Hunter palpable in the crowded bar. Despite the success of the mission, Hunter couldn't resist injecting his bitter critique into the - what should be - celebratory atmosphere.

As the squad was basking in victory, clinking cups and allowing Omega to indulge in a very sugary concoction that almost had her bouncing off the walls, Hunter's biting words tainted the mood.

His critique of your tactics cut deep, branding you as reckless and a threat to safety, all delivered in front of the entire squad.

Flushed with embarrassment and fueled by anger, you hastily abandoned the bar, seeking refuge in another dimly lit establishment down the strip. Unbeknownst to you, the others exchanged scornful glances, Echo remarking, "She gets it from you, you know?" A subtle nod to your adoption of Hunter's techniques, albeit with less finesse.

Swallowing his pride, Hunter trailed after you with a heavy sigh, the weight of his words hanging heavy on his shoulders as he tried to find a way to make it up to you.

Meanwhile in the new bar, a sketchy run down looking thing with flickering strobe lights, you find yourself situated between two patrons in a world of their own.

As you waited for the service droid to serve you, a small shift from you caught the attention of the man on the left. A rugged looking man with a rather stale odor to match.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” His inquiry, laced with unwanted charm, sent a shiver down your spine as you maintained a polite smile, avoiding direct eye contact.

“In this dump? Not quite sure. But, just here for one drink,” you replied, hoping to discourage further conversation.

The man chuckled, a smug grin etching lines on his worn face, followed by a troubling cough that was hacked into a dirty rag that makes you squirm. “That so?” He asks after his coughing fit. “Mind if I get ya one?"

"I'll get it myself. Thanks for the offer," you replied, freezing him in his tracks.

"Heh, you think you're too good for me?" he retorted, his gaze piercing.

Sighing, you turned to face him, attempting to maintain composure amidst his growing aggression. "I didn't say anything like that. I'm here to buy my own drink and leave."

But as his tone escalated and his proximity grew, you reached your breaking point. Despite your attempts to politely decline, he persisted, his invasive advances refusing to relent, leaving you feeling increasingly uncomfortable and trapped.

Until you snapped.

Hunter found himself darting his head into every bar and club, your current whereabouts unknown. Frustration gnawed at him as he went to check your location only to see you had switched it off, thwarting his attempts to track you down.

However, a subtle whiff in the air caught his attention, and his stomach churned. The same sensation he developed whenever the smell hit him. He finds himself gulping a little as he instantly recognised the faint scent of the floral soap that only you used.

It left a lingering trace, teasing him that he was on the right track. A part of him wanted to clear the scent away; he had smelled it so often in the Marauder that it always sent his mind into a spiral of confusion and found it rather distracting.

His thoughts on your scent dissipated as the sound of loud banging reverberated down a stairway to a rundown bar. Hunter froze, his senses sharpening as he listened intently. The familiar sound of your voice had him bolting down the steps, instincts kicking in as he rushed to your aid. Or so he thought he had to.

Upon entering, Hunter's heart quickened its pace as he was greeted with the sight of you, hands raised in a defensive stance, facing off against a man whose laughter echoed brashly in your face. The tension in the air was thick as you snapped, “Keep your dirty, mucus breath away from me!”

The man, undeterred by your sharp words, retorted with a smirk, “That ain’t very ladylike of you, sweet cheeks. Calm down and have a drink with me.”

Your nostrils flared in anger, steam seemingly emanating from you as you glared daggers at him. “I said no,” you snarled, your voice dripping with venom. “And call me ‘sweet cheeks’ one more time, I’ll kick you between the legs so hard it won’t be the cough you’re choking on!”

As the confrontation intensified, Hunter's eyes widened in surprise and concern as he watched from a few feet away, momentarily frozen by the scene unfolding before him.

Then, his protective side kicks in, taking a step forward, the need to intervene pulsing through his veins. He speaks your name which causes you to freeze and glance over your shoulder to meet his penetrating gaze. Great.

Meanwhile, the man, sensing the shift in dynamics, glanced over your shoulder too and directed a question at Hunter. “Oi, bandana, does she belong to you?”

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you interrupted before Hunter could respond, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “I don’t belong to nobody, let’s get that right,” you hissed, your gaze locked in a fierce glare with the patron.

“You best listen to her,” Hunter piped up, stepping in between you and the man with a protective stance. “But,” he continued, turning to look at you, “I think me and you should get going.”

You stared at the clone, a wave of anger and confusion washing over you. What game was he playing? First, he mocked you, and now he was trying to act like Prince Charming? So, you shook your head adamantly. “I’ve still not had my drink.”

“I said I’ll buy you one,” the patron quipped.

“Will you shut up?” Both you and Hunter snapped at the same time, sharing a surprised glance at the oddity of the moment, but quickly brushing it off. You nudged past him and leaned back on the bartop, determined to get the attention of the service droid.

Hunter's sigh was loud as he stood beside you, gesturing for you to follow him, but you persisted with a shake of your head. You came for a drink, and you would leave with one.

Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, the patron approached you, reaching a hand towards you. But Hunter was already on the case, swatting the man's hand away with a swift motion. “Lay a finger on her and I’ll break all of yours. Leave.”

You stared at the back of Hunter’s head, your eyes wide in surprise at his tone and sudden threat. He was always a commanding presence, but never to this extent. It made you feel a strange mix of emotions, a tingling sensation spreading from your belly to the tips of your fingers.

The man glanced between you and Hunter, his expression a mixture of defiance and resignation, before taking a final swig of his drink. With a nod of his head, he seemed prepared to leave, but not without delivering a parting shot.

“Put her on a leash next time.”

Despite Hunter's heightened senses, he was not quick enough to respond as you pivoted on your heel and unleashed a hefty punch straight to the man’s nose. The force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground, landing hard on his rear.

The man, stunned and ready to retaliate, found himself abruptly halted by a boot pressed firmly to his chest, courtesy of the tall Clone. With his hands raised in defense, he hesitated.

“Apologise to the lady,” Hunter demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

“Forget it, Hunter,” you muttered, adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you shook out your hand. “I’m not going to ask someone or force someone to apologise to me.” There was a certain edge in your voice, a subtle reminder of Hunter's own failure to say sorry for his earlier words.

Unfortunately, the disruption had drawn the attention of the service droid (finally), and you and Hunter were promptly forced to leave.

As you were ushered out, you wasted no time in striding ahead, your steps heavy with frustration. The rhythmic tap of your boots echoed against the pavement, a stark contrast to the fading sounds of the bar behind you.

"Hey, wait up!" Hunter's voice called after you, but you were resolute in your determination not to stop. You didn't want him to see your tears, didn't want to show any vulnerability in front of him. Not after everything that had just happened. Not after that painful punch that felt like hitting a brick wall.

Ignoring his calls, you continued forward, your jaw clenched tightly to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over. But your pace was abruptly halted as Hunter caught up to you, using his body as a barrier as he stopped directly in front of you.

"Come on, we need to talk. I need to—Are you crying?" Hunter's voice softened, concern evident in his tone as he noticed the telltale signs of tears glistening in your eyes.

"No!" you snapped back, a reflexive denial, but the tremble in your voice betrayed your true emotions.

Hunter sighed softly, his shoulders slumping slightly as he realised the depth of your distress. "Let’s get back to the ship. We can talk there," he suggested gently, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

A part of you wanted to stay stubborn, to refuse his offer and continue on your own path to perhaps another bar. But the night was growing darker, and the pain in your hand from the earlier punch was becoming increasingly unbearable. With a resigned nod, you reluctantly allowed Hunter to guide you back to the port.

Once inside the ship, the air felt heavier with tension as you stood in the cramped space, watching intently as Hunter meticulously sifted through the clutter of supplies and equipment scattered around. With a focused determination, he located a medkit.

When you insisted that you didn't need him to attend to your injury, considering it wasn't that serious, Hunter's expression hardened, his voice taking on a stern edge. "Yeah? Want to explain why there’s now blood on the ship floor?" The sharpness in his tone made your face flush with embarrassment as you glanced down, noticing the small tear in your skin that had resulted from the brief scuffle.

"Oh," you muttered awkwardly, feeling hot under Hunter's scrutiny.

“Sit here.” Without missing a beat, Hunter gestured for you to sit on a nearby crate, his demeanor firm yet oddly reassuring. As he patted the surface in front of him, you couldn't help but wonder about his motives. Was it your earlier words about his lack of apology that lingered in his mind, prompting this gesture of care? Or was there another reason behind his actions? The uncertainty gnawed at you, but deep down, a part of you couldn't deny the comfort of his presence in that moment.

“I don’t need coddling,” you mumbled half-heartedly, attempting to maintain a facade of independence despite the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Nevertheless, your feet moved almost of their own accord, carrying you towards Hunter as you settled yourself onto the crate in front of him.

"Oh, I know, you handled yourself well," Hunter chuckled softly, his hands moving deftly as he pulled out pads to dab at your skin, preparing to disinfect the area. “I want to help you… if you’ll let me.”

You grumbled in response, your eyes trained on his hands as they worked. "Ha, next joke please."

Hunter raised a brow at you, his expression serious for a moment. "I mean it," he insisted, his tone earnest.

You couldn't help but scoff, the bitterness of his previous criticism still fresh in your mind. "Yet I’m reckless and a danger to others?" you retorted, your voice tinged with sarcasm and frustration.

A heavy sigh escaped Hunter's lips, and he paused in his actions, looking you directly in the eye, though you were doing your hardest not to meet his gaze. "I want to say sorry for what I said. I… I should have said it to you alone. And differently."

You could hear the slight awkwardness in his tone, but it did come across as honest. Yet, you were still annoyed. “Yeah well, you completely embarrassed and upset me.”

He blinked, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as your voice took on a gentle tone tinged with sadness. “I know, and I am sorry. Truly. But, I only said it because…” he trailed off for a moment, his eyes trained on the medkit again, as if searching for the answer within.

“Because?” You prompted him, giving his leg a small nudge with your foot.

“Because I care. I don’t want you taking risks like I do. Like what the others do.” Hunter's admission hung in the air, revealing a layer of concern and perhaps a touch of vulnerability.

There was a gravity to Hunter's words, a weight that seemed to hang in the air, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you. It was as if his sudden sincerity reached out and tugged at the strings of your heart, tempting you to lean into the warmth of his presence. But you resisted, holding back the urge to act on the tumultuous feelings that were suddenly swirling inside you.

“You certainly have an odd way with words in that case,” you found yourself saying, your voice slightly breathless as you struggled to make sense of the complex emotions churning within you. Hunter seemed to notice the subtle change in your demeanor, his senses catching the telltale signs of your heightened heartbeat.

“You’re not wrong,” he admitted quietly, his own voice apologetic. With gentle precision, he applied some bactaspray to your knuckles, his touch light yet reassuring. As he dabbed away the blood, you couldn't help but hiss in pain, the sting overlapping the odd flutter in your heart.

“My apologies,” Hunter murmured, his gaze meeting yours with sincerity.

Despite the slight discomfort, there was a flicker of amusement in your eyes as you watched him meticulously care for your hand. Never had you seen him so gentle and so indulged at the task at hand.

As you watched Hunter, the smirk gradually faded from your lips, replaced by a sense of awe as your eyes traced the finer details of his face. His strong jawline, the depth of his intoxicating eyes, and the tattoo that adorned his skin, its colors slightly faded but still complimenting his rugged appearance perfectly. His long locks, usually tucked back by his bandana, had fallen forward, framing his face in a way that emphasised his rugged charm.

You came to a sudden realisation of just how handsome he was. Of course, you had always known it on some level, but now it struck you with a new intensity that made your heart quicken and your cheeks flush with a sudden shyness.

“So, do you forgive me?” Hunter's voice broke through your reverie, pulling you back to reality and you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze.

“Sorry, what?” you blinked, feeling a flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks as you snapped out of your reverie, realizing you had been lost in awe-struck admiration of Hunter.

He chuckled softly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he raised a brow at your dazed stare. “No, it’s me who is the one saying ‘sorry’ this time.” With a gentle touch, he guided your attention back to your injured hand, his movements careful and deliberate as he applied a dressing before neatly packing the medkit away. “But I’ll ask again, do you forgive me?”

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling a mixture of confusion, shyness, and bashfulness under his attentive gaze. “I suppose… just please don’t do it again.”

“You have my word,” he nodded, his smile warm and reassuring. When his gaze met yours, the swirling storm of your emotions came back, and your heart raced even faster than before when he extended his hand towards you.

You tried to play it off as a simple gesture to help you off the crate, but as you placed your good hand into his, there was a gentle squeeze in his touch before he effortlessly pulled you forward, almost causing you to stumble into his chest.

“Oh!- oh,” you stammered, quickly steadying yourself but growing increasingly aware of the proximity between you and the Sergeant.

His eyes remained locked on yours, his head tilting slightly to the side as he studied your reaction. “Everything alright?” he asked, his voice soft, the warmth of his hand still lingering on yours.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you nodded firmly, though the erratic thumping of your heart betrayed your composure, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Hunter could sense it, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Tell me,” his voice was hushed, his warm breath brushing against your features as he leaned in closer, “why is your heart beating so fast?”

You gulped, feeling his proximity overwhelming your senses as you searched his eyes for an answer, but all you found was a reflection of your own turmoil. The truth was written in the depths of your gaze, but your words failed you, and you found yourself stuttering over your thoughts, unable to form a coherent sentence. It was as if the weight of your unspoken feelings hung heavy in the air between you.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Hunter spoke aloud, his other hand moving to gently push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “I can’t help but wonder if you…” He trailed off, uncertainty lacing his words, but he couldn't ignore the palpable tension that crackled between you any longer, “if you have feelings for me.”

“Do you truly care about me?” you asked, your voice a delicate whisper tinged with a shyness as you found yourself yearning to inch just a tad closer to Hunter's body. Every nerve in your body seemed to hum with anticipation, the air thick with unspoken desires.

Sensing your feelings, Hunter gently pushed you back with his body, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as your legs hit the crate behind you. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You don’t understand how much I care,” his voice rumbled low, the depth of his emotions evident in his tone. “I’ve never cared about anyone so much in my life.”

With just the two of you here, the atmosphere crackled with an electrifying tension, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as you teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniable.

“Well,” you whispered, your injured hand reaching out to touch his chest, your fingers tracing the contours of his shirt as if seeking reassurance, “maybe I do too. Maybe I do have feelings for you.”

A sigh, almost a mix of a moan and relief, escaped Hunter's lips at your words. “Come here to me,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Without hesitation, you closed the distance between the pair of you, your lips meeting his in a somewhat long-awaited embrace. Hunter's arms enveloped you, one hand cradling your body with a firm yet gentle touch, while the other slid to the back of your head, holding you close with a tenderness that made your heart flutter as his fingers tangled in your hair.

Lifting you, you're placed on top of the crate once again, Hunter sandwiched between your legs as you both savor the quiet and serene moment. Your bitterness had vanished, replaced with the soft taste of his tongue dancing with yours. An alcoholic tang.

For a moment, all the tension, all the longing and arguing melted away as you molded into each other, lost in the sweetness of the kiss and the warmth of each other's embrace. “Hunter,” you whimper breathlessly.

You hoped the others wouldn’t come back for a while.

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[borathae]

"Using your safeword isn't easy for you."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Angst, Hurt and Comfort

Warnings: this is angstier than I wanted it to be, implied sexual situation, use of handcuffs, she uses her safeword, she gets hurt because she panics, panic attacks, mention of past sexual abuse during her sexwork, besties this is really angsty like omfg, it has a happy ending!

Wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: i wanna give her the biggest hug ever. this was requested by anonie, have fun(?)dude it's angst idk if you can have fun) reading 💗

You are roleplaying tonight. Jungkook has the lead while you are the sub. You feel good. He is gentle, sexy, attentive and constantly asks for consent. You feel so good until suddenly you don’t. 

You can’t explain what triggered it. Maybe it was the way he touched your knee. Maybe it was the sudden loud noise of a motorbike driving by. Maybe it was nothing and it just happened. 

But all of a sudden the good turns bad and you feel incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Red!” you blurt out and then everything becomes just a little blurry, “red! Red! No, I don’t want this! Red!” you are begging even if there is no need to beg because Jungkook is already scrambling to get you untied. 

“I’m getting it! Everything’s okay! You’re safe!” he is almost falling over his own words, feeling dizzy in worry. He wants to work fast, but it is difficult because you are fighting the restraints. Like a scared, captured animal trying to escape, “p-please don’t m-move so much. I-I’ll hurt you, please.”

You consented to wearing handcuffs and up until two seconds ago, you liked it. It was hot and sensual and made you feel relaxed because it meant that you could give up control without being tempted to intervene. 

Right now it means that you have zero control over what will happen to you and you would rather cut off your own hands than be restrained even a second longer.

“Red! I don’t like this”, you are fighting the handcuffs and that’s when it happens. You hurt yourself. 

Because of the excessive wiggling, the handcuffs dug into your wrists and forced a nerve to squish between your muscles. 

“Ah, oh my god it hurts”, you get and cry. You rarely cry, but right now you are scared and anxious and in pain.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. Please stay still, I’m getting you out”, Jungkook says with a trembling voice and undoes the handcuffs with shaking hands. He is panting for air, feeling sick in anxiety. Seeing you cry is rare. Seeing you cry from pain is even rarer. 

Once free, you clutch your own wrist, pressing it against your chest.

“It hurts”, you get out, sobbing loudly.

“Oh god”, Jungkook gags out, reaching for you only to stop in case he scared you, “my love, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m such an asshole, oh god I’m sorry.”

You can’t assure him right now. You aren’t scared of him, neither are you angry at him. And yet you still can’t reassure him. Not when you’re that scared. 

“I don’t want this”, you sob, reaching for him like a drowning person would a lifeline.

Jungkook catches your hands and holds them tightly, staring at your hurt wrist with tears streaming down his face.

“My love, I’m sorry.”

You can’t reassure him yet. You need to be held. To be comforted. To be reminded that you aren’t going to get hurt. It happened so many times. You didn’t want to continue and yet your clients didn’t care. You were tied up and literally helpless and they took advantage of it. 

You need to be reminded that this isn’t your reality anymore. That you are safe.

You seek out Jungkook, getting between his legs and pressing yourself against his chest. You are so much smaller than on other days, as if your own anxiety was shrinking you. 

“It’s okay, my love. It’s okay, I’m here”, Jungkook assures you, hugging you tightly as his fingers smooth over your hair. He is swaying your bodies slowly, pressing kisses to whatever parts of your head he can reach, “I know, baby, I know. I’m here, baby, I’m here.” 

This isn’t your normal panic. Jungkook knows every pattern, inhale, exhale and shake. This is one of your panic attacks. It has been years since he last witnessed something like this, but he still knows what to do. He won’t ever forget the remedies to your attacks. They’re in there next to how you like your coffee in the morning and what weather makes you happy. They’re proof that he loves you and that he always will.

“Breathe with me, baby. It’s hard, but I need you to breathe with me”, Jungkook speaks gently, showing you how it’s done patiently. It’s difficult for you to follow at first, but Jungkook gives you all the time you need, which takes so much pressure off of you. It gets easy to try and match your breathing with his’ when he is so incredibly patient with you. 

“That’s it. Breathe with me, babygirl, breathe. That’s it”, he whispers, breathing with you. 

It calms him as well. He is sick in anxiety. To hear you scream your safeword and start crying in panic is awful enough, but to have you hurt yourself on top of everything and cry because of it, ruined Jungkook. He is so upset and anxious, that showing you how to breathe is calming him down as well. It’s sweet in a twisted way that in providing you your remedy, he is healing himself as well. 

You don’t want to lift your head at first. The attack stopped, but you don’t want to lift your head. You feel humiliated. 

You haven’t felt that embarrassed in front of Jungkook ever since you met him. 

You get a panic attack because of a stupid fucking noise. You feel fucking pathetic. 

You push yourself off of him and out of the hug, getting off of bed without looking at him. 

“___ my love?” he calls for you, staring at you with teary eyes. 

“I need to be alone”, you say and leave the playroom. You’re too embarrassed to face him. 

If one would ask you how to define this moment in your relationship, it wouldn’t be a good one. Dark. That’s how you would describe it. Dark and fucking heartbreaking.

Jungkook follows you, calling your name which you try to ignore. You are so embarrassed.

Jungkook runs after you as you descend the stairs in stumbles and sobs. You are so humiliated, feeling even worse because you have no clothes to cover yourself with.

“My love, please talk to me, please”, Jungkook begs, “I’m so sorry for triggering you. I didn’t wanna trigger you, please don’t run away. Please, I’m so sorry.”

You flee into the bedroom. Jungkook catches the door you try to slam close and slips inside after you.

“Please talk to me, please”, he squeaks out, “I’m so sorry.”

You try to hide in the bathroom. Jungkook isn’t fast enough. The door closes before his nose and locks.

“Please”, he begs, resting his head against the door, “I’m so sorry please believe me, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t think that the panic attack really stopped. Maybe the worst stopped, but you still feel anxious. Having Jungkook beg for your forgiveness behind closed doors isn’t helping. You are prancing, gripping your own hair in distress.

“What can I do? I, I want to help.”

Why did your life have to fuck you up so fucking bad? Why did men do this to you? Why did you have to go through this? Questions you haven’t asked yourself in years come back to haunt you. Why? Why? Why? The word repeats itself in your mind over and over again.

“I’m so sorry, my love.”

Why were these men so cruel? Why were your screamed words silent to them? Why did they hurt you so much?

“Please don’t hate me now.”

Your head turns into the direction of the door. Jungkook’s sobs broke through your racing thoughts and reminded you that you weren’t alone right now, that you have your person looking out for you. And that you currently make him feel as if you hated him.

“Please don’t lock me out, please. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t mean to trigger you. Oh god, I’m so fucking sorry, my love.”

The door unlocks and opens. Jungkook stumbles because he didn’t expect it. He blinks his tears away, meeting your teary eyes.

“My love”, he presses out, contorting his face in painful guilt, “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, hoping that he understands that he doesn’t need to feel sorry. You reach for him. Jungkook meets you in the middle and tugs you close, guiding your arms around his waist and cradling you in his arms seconds later. He presses your head against his chest, hiding you away from the world.

“Kookie.”

“Come here, babygirl. I’m here”, he gets out, holding you safely.

The once bared state of your body doesn’t feel humiliating anymore. He is naked as well, reconnecting with you skin against skin. He smells like home. Warm, sweet, safe. As long as you are in his arms, it’s not scary out there.

“I have to tell you something”, you get out.

“Okay. Okay, yes. Tell me baby, tell me”, Jungkook gives you the chance and so you tell him why you reacted the way you did.

Jungkook knows that your life before him wasn’t easy. You told him enough that he isn’t surprised when you flee from anxious situations and why you sometimes revert to pulling away. He knows that such trauma responses can come back even if your life is safe and happy these days. He knows because you told him enough. He also knows that the work you had to do to survive hurt you a lot before you started working at Paradis. He never knew how it hurt you however.

You didn’t feel brave enough to tell him. Tonight it is finally spilling out of you, leaving you in sobs and hiccups and struggles for air, but it is leaving you. Jungkook understands you even when you are crying and fighting for words. He will always understand you, even if he wishes that tonight he didn’t. He can’t believe that the world hurt his treasure in such ways. He feels heartbroken, sick to the stomach and unbearably angry. He keeps asking you what their names were, telling you that he will hunt them down and bring them so justice. You can’t tell him their names because you never learned them. And eventhough you feel humiliated in sharing something so fucking embarrassing with the person you love so much, you can’t stop. It feels so good to finally relief yourself of those memories and in the process, find comfort in his arms.

“I’m sorry”, you whisper. You are in bed by now, lying in his arms with your face nuzzled against his chest.

“For what?” Jungkook whispers, staring at the sheets with dark eyes. He is so fucking angry at the men who hurt you.

“For telling you all of this.”

“Don’t apologise for that. Holy shit baby, don’t ever fucking apologise for that”, he assures you, tilting your head up gently, “I, I just wish that I could do more. That I could make those motherfuckers pay.”

“Yeah, me too”, you whisper, looking into his eyes. You feel numb from all the talking you did, shivering even when under the blanket, “you don’t see me differently now, do you?”

Jungkook shakes his head vigorously and vehemently, furrowing his brows to showcase how serious he was.

“Of course I fucking don’t. I’m glad you told me. Thank you”, he says and brushes his thumb over your cheek. You close your eyes, melting into the gentle touch. It feels so good to be loved by him. Jungkook continues caressing your cheek as he talks, looking at you with soft eyes, “I know it wasn’t easy, so thank you for trusting me and I wanna carry this burden with you from now. Yeah?”

“No. No, please don’t call it like that. I don’t wanna burden you”, you say, looking up at him with anxious eyes.

“You don’t burden me.”

“I, I don’t wanna be looked at differently, please Kook. Don’t, don’t look at me differently now.”

“I won’t, baby. I won’t”, he assures you, kissing your forehead in hopes of calming your thoughts.

“I just s-struggle with submitting. I, I do. It’s so hard to, to do for me be-because of what they did to me and, and the bike was so loud and it triggered me and I’m sorry. I don’t wanna, wanna burden you, I don’t-”

“Shut up”, Jungkook whispers softly, hugging you against his chest, “stop saying that you burden me. You don’t. Let’s take a deep breath together, yeah?”

You breathe with Jungkook.

“There we go”, he praises and caresses the back of your head, “I need you to listen to me now without getting upset, okay?”

You nod your head, listening to him with closed eyes.

“You just told me something which you kept deep inside and now it’s out there and other people know it. I get it, shit like that embarrasses you.”

You shift because he is reading you like an open book and it is just a little uncomfortable. Jungkook lets you wiggle, but still holds you safely, kissing the crown of your head to let you know that you were safe. He keeps talking with his lips against your head.

“And when shit embarrasses you, you wanna run away. I get it, shit like that’s scary, but you don’t gotta be scared alone. I’m right here. With you. And I’ll stay with you. Fucking shit ___, you’re my person. My fucking person”, he says, squeezing you against him gently. He continues talking even if his voice is muffled from the close proximity, “I met you when your life was messy as fuck, I fell for you despite the mess and eventhough we fixed our messy lives these days, I’m aware that darker days can sometimes happen.”

He buries his fingers in your hair as deep as your texture allows it and begins massaging your scalp.

“___ baby, I don’t only love you when life’s good and nice and bright. I also love you when it’s messy and shit and fucking dark. And when you tell me stuff from your past, I’ll get a little upset yeah, but not because of you but because someone hurt my fucking babygirl. Shit, I just wanna protect you from what you had to go through and fight whoever hurt you, but I won’t ever see you differently. Because you’re my person, ___ baby and you’ll always be my person. Okay?”

You nod your head, letting out a small hum of acknowledgment.

“Okay”, he says, kissing your hair, “now, can I take a look at your wrist or do you not feel ready yet?”

You nod your head, “yeah”, you say and scoot back to show him your wrist. You are lying down while Jungkook props himself up on his elbow. He seems so much taller and bigger than you like this and tonight you really need this feeling. You’re strong, confident and rarely need another person to lean on. You are also proud of being so strong and so independent, but all the strength in the world doesn’t mean that you will always feel this way. That you will always be the one wanting to take care of Jungkook or that you won’t ever need to feel small and fragile. You’re just a fucking human and person with feelings which can be hurt so easily. You don’t feel strong tonight or independent. You feel tiny and weak and need Jungkook to take care of you without judgment.

“I can’t see anything. Where does it hurt?” he says, holding your wrist gently as he runs his thumb over your tender skin.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I think I just squeezed a nerve”, you speak quietly because you can’t do it any other way, “I’m sorry for wiggling so much and for using my safeword.”

“Hey”, he shakes you by your wrist gently, “sorry’s your forbidden word tonight.”

“Sorry, I mean, yeah I know.”

Jungkook guides your wrist to his lips and kisses it gently.

“I’m glad you used your safeword. Thank you for trusting me. I just hope that you don’t feel unsafe with me now.”

“No, I don’t. I feel safe”, you say, looking up at him from the pillow. Jungkook studies you and how small you make yourself in his presence whilst looking so relaxed doing so. He also knows how much this means with you, feeling reassured that what you are saying is true.

“Thank you for telling me”, he says, relaxing his shoulders, “I felt like throwing up when you cried and then you ran away and I seriously thought that I fucked it.”

“You didn’t.”

“Good yeah, that’s good. You know”, he says and cups your cheek, “I like it when I’m dominant and we can switch the roles, but if you don’t want to switch, I won’t be angry at you. You don’t have to sub just to make me happy. Especially when it means that you have to think of what those assholes did to you.”

“I normally don’t feel this way or think of it. I don’t know why this happened tonight.”

“Something triggered it. It’s sometimes impossible to explain triggers, I get it���, he assures you, “I’m just saying all that because I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything you’re not a hundred percent comfortable with.”

“I know”, you say, gazing up at him, “I feel safe with you and I didn’t feel uncomfortable whenever we switched in the past. I even wanna try it with handcuffs again, I do. I just…I don’t think today was a good mental health day for me. It all got too much.”

“And that’s okay. It got too much and you stopped it, that’s all that matters. I know it was hard for you because of your past experiences, but you did it despite that and you did it so well.”

You look at him because you have to make sure that he is real. He makes you feel so safe without even trying, healing wounds you thought never able to heal. So this is what it feels like to have someone to rely on. It’s been years with him and yet you still sometimes have to pinch yourself to make sure it’s real.

“I feel like I ruined it, seriously”, you confess.

“No you didn’t ruin anything, my love. You really didn’t”, he assures you.

“I’m so embarrassed”, you tear up, “I feel so much shame around my past.”

“Don’t, please don’t. Especially not with me”, he speaks softly, shaking his head vigorously, “this isn’t something you need to be ashamed of. Those assholes who hurt you should be the ones to feel shame, but not you.”

You sniffle, speaking squeakily, “can you tell me one more time that you don’t see me different now?”

“I’ll tell you a million times more if you need it. Of course, I don’t see you differently. You’re my person and I fucking adore you”, Jungkook promises, giving you a reassuring smile.

One you retort honestly and gladly. It feels good to be able to smile after everything which happened. Life really doesn’t seem that difficult when you’re with Jungkook.

“Thank you. I love you so much”, you whisper.

“I love you too, baby”, Jungkook says without hesitation, tracing the small smile lines next to your eyes, “now, why don’t you let me take care of you for tonight, mhm? I’ll run you a hot bath, give you a little face massage because I know your jaw’s tight from crying”, he smoothes his thumb over your jaw, “then we’ll order snackies from your favourite place and watch your favourite show, where I’ll give you so many snuggles and kisses until you fall asleep and I can carry you to bed for even more snuggles. How’s that sound?”

You nod your head.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Amazing”, he says and giggles, “then we’ll do that, baby. Now come on, wrap your arms around me. I’ll carry you. You don’t gotta be strong tonight.”

He’s right. You don’t have to be strong tonight. He’s got you and he always will.

[stayconnecteed]

❪⠀🪐.⠀couch cuddles⠀𓏔⠀seo changbin⠀❫

☆ㅤseo changbin x afab!reader ( valentine's collab oneshots )⠀★⠀3.4k words

synopsys: everyone knew that changbin and you had met at ikea. you had been friends for years, and yet he never got tired of repeating the anecdote that had brought you together. there was one part he had never told you, though: he had asked his parents to buy that green sofa on which you had been sitting together in that first meeting. that very same couch you always ask cuddles in when one of your dates goes wrong.

note: not happy at all with how this turned out, and i know it's a little bit angsty before all the fluff but happy valentine's day cuties !!

Everyone knew that Changbin and you had met at Ikea. You had been friends for years, and yet he never got tired of repeating the anecdote that had brought you together that afternoon when you had gone to the Swedish shop with your family. It had been a very chaotic first meeting, as it could only be if it had happened between the two of you, but there was one part he had never told you. Whenever the subject came up he would ask you to narrate how it had been, with that pout and puppy eyes he knew you couldn't resist, and he would just stare at you, a smile curving his lips, hiding a part of your story that you didn't know.

You always started your story with a little context, saying that you had just turned sixteen, that your parents had decided to move when they found out they were going to have another baby, that it was a weekend in January and you hadn't started high school yet, that you had planned to travel to Gwangmyeong, where your grandparents lived, and visit the Ikea that had opened in the area. And Changbin couldn't help but stand still when he heard those words, because he knew what it was you were going to start talking about, and he loved to hear it from your lips, so he would command everyone to be quiet, to let your voice echo in the silence as you spoke.

And then you explained, under Changbin's attentive gaze, how you had driven to the shop after lunch, parking as close to the entrance as possible, and how you had to take care of your two little siblings, then aged eight and five, while your parents talked to each other about what furniture to buy for the new home. You dwelled on the details, making eye contact with Changbin from time to time, prolonging the moments before you first spoke, creating some expectation, and he knew it, but he didn't mind because he enjoyed it as much as you did.

And when you had described how small you had felt in such a big place 一the biggest Ikea in the world at the time一, when you had let slip that your parents had been so focused on shopping that you and your siblings had been left behind, when your face was a shadow of the worry, the panic you had felt at the time, then you broke the news: your brother, the troublesome eight-year-old, had gone missing. You, at sixteen, had found yourself in a maze of kitchens and living rooms with your younger sister clinging to your leg, your heart pounding, and the uncertainty of whether you would be able to find Doyun in such a large space.

Changbin's heart always twisted in agony at that part of the story, just as it had done when, already desperate, you had approached the first boy of your own age you had seen 一he一, whispering if he had seen a kid with your brother's description. He had hated seeing you like that, absolutely distressed, on the verge of tears, pretending in front of your little sister that Doyun was playing hide-and-seek. Both she and you had looked at him as if he could miraculously find him, with a blind confidence that had made him assure you that he hadn't seen him, but that he would help you look for him. He had whispered to little Jia that it would be fun, and had taken her hand, turning to you only to see you smiling hopefully at him.

At the time, and he had never acknowledged it, he hadn't cared for Doyun. He certainly wanted to find him, that was what your eyes and the values his parents had taught him screamed at him, but at the same time he longed for the way your face had relaxed at the sight of him, when he had told you not to worry, that he would find him. How calm you had been, just as you always said you were, knowing he was by your side. And with your sister on one side and you on the other, you had walked the corridors, passing where you had been over and over again, checking every possible hiding place, whispering your brother's name for him to hear.

But you always came back to the same place, the green sofa where you had asked him about Doyun. And no sign of him. You checked your phone obsessively, fearing that your parents would ask you about him and you wouldn't have the answer, and at one point, Changbin simply proposed to take a break. He indicated that you could exchange numbers, and that while you went to buy something from the shop's cafeteria, he would take another walk, in case there was any more luck, and he would text you if he saw him. You declined, his mouth suddenly going dry at the thought that he had gone too far, but then you announced in an exhausted voice and slumped shoulders that you were the one who should look for him, that you were the one who had lost him in the first place, and that Doyun wouldn't go with a stranger as Changbin was to him, anyway.

You had sat on the couch, your head in your hands, all the frustration and fear building in your chest, your pent-up emotions on edge, on the verge of overflowing, and he busied himself entertaining Jia with some cute cat pillows lying around as he squatted down in front of you, resting a trembling hand on your knee. He had spoken softly to you, like to a wounded animal you want to help, telling you stupid facts about his life, anything you needed to calm you down a bit and face the situation from the ease of a clear-headed mind. You had covered your face, hiding your silent cry, and whispered to him that he didn't need to waste his time with you, that you were a horrible sister, and an inconsiderate stranger by dragging him into your problems.

And then, in one of his most precious memories, you related how you had looked at him, tears glistening on your cheeks, and he had frowned back at you, as if you had offended him, before announcing, in the most serious tone you had ever heard from a sixteen-year-old boy, that you were the best sister in the world. And you had let out an incredulous laugh, closing your eyes and resting your forehead on his shoulder, and had kept silent as he muttered that only the best sister in the world would worry so much about Doyun, searching for him without Jia knowing what was going on, to protect them both. Only the best sister in the world would talk to a boy she didn't know, despite her shyness, just in case he could help her. You really were the best sister in the world.

They were words you repeated from memory, reciting them just as he had whispered them to you, and they always made anyone who heard them sigh. It had been almost like a fairy tale, you in his arms, asking him to show your sister the cafeteria as you took one last walk, wandering back down all those corridors you'd been down before, only to return to the green couch where you knew Changbin was waiting with your sister, but who had also been joined by Doyun, who was listening to Jia laugh at how much fun the hide-and-seek at the Ikea had been.

You had let out a breathy sigh, moving towards your little brother, scolding him for disappearing, while he protested that he had been fiddling with the tablets in the warehouse area 一a place you had hardly been to at all. Then you had made both Doyun and Jia promise not to leave your side for the rest of the afternoon, and when you turned to Changbin, all he could think about was that he didn't want to leave you yet. So when you opened your mouth, he interrupted you before you could utter a sound, asking if you could see each other again.

And you had blushed, unused to that kind of attention, and nodded shyly, the silence falling between you. You had cleared your throat, fiddling with your phone, not knowing what your next move should be. And Changbin had taken the lead again, pointing out that you should ask your parents where they were, and that he would accompany you to them if you wanted. Then you always told, with the same luminous smile you had given him at that moment, that you had walked together to the bedroom section, shoulder to shoulder, your siblings playing in front of you, always under your view, and it was then that you had begun to know each other, to develop that bond that had been born when you had asked him for help and he had not denied it.

What he had never told you was that he had seen you in the parking lot, as soon as you walked in. He had never told you that he couldn't stop looking at you, the way you nodded attentively at your parents' words, or how your eyes lit up when you glanced at your siblings even when they weren't looking at you, how you smiled at the silly things they did, how you crouched down to talk to them. He had been so dumbfounded that his sister had teased him, threatening to come over and talk to you. And every time he saw a glimpse of your white hoodie in the aisles of the Ikea, his heartbeat quickened at the possibility of talking to you. When you had approached him with that face he had seen so happily turned to distress, he had lacked the time to bring the moon down on you if you asked him to.

Nor had he told you that the only thing he had asked his parents for, although he never asked them for anything he didn't need, was to buy that green sofa on which you had been sitting for a few minutes, and which had gone from his children's playroom to the living room of his flat once he had become independent, and which you had never shown any signs of recognising. After that first meeting you had discovered that you lived in the same city, which had facilitated your weekend meetings, and the blossoming of a friendship that stayed with you until years later.

He had lived your last years of high school with you, studying together for the hardest exams even if you went to different institutions, attending each other's graduations with a proud smile, spending summers at your home with him, to the point where your parents treated him like one of the family, and his parents did the same with you. He had watched your younger siblings grow up, caring for them with the same infinite affection as you did, and his older sister had taken you in as her little girl, and everything was perfect. You had been in the good stuff, even applying to the same university, celebrating his first major contract as your own, him coming to the opening of your shop and insisting on being the first customer.

He didn't understand how anyone could look you in the face and tell you that they didn't want to be with you. He didn't understand how anyone could see you and think you weren't the most beautiful person they'd ever seen. But most of all he didn't understand why he hadn't told you yet that he loved you. Because he did, of course. After so long by your side you had managed to get into his mind, and his heart, and even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to kick you out of his life. You were too deeply tangled up in him, to the point where everything you did affected him in one way or another, and your absence was the worst punishment. So he knew why he hadn't said anything to you, why he kept these secrets from you 一the fear of losing you was even worse than the fear of rejection一 but he didn't understand why he hadn't been more direct before the possibility of you saying no seemed so painful to him.

Because since he'd figured out what his feelings for you were, every Valentine's Day was pure torture. Especially when he couldn't be with anyone but you, so he spent them single, while you had kept yourself pretty busy all those years, with partners, or affairs, or dates or one night stands. You always seemed to be busy on February 14th. And when your boyfriend dumped you with any bullshit excuse, or your flings found another girl, or the date didn't go the way you'd hoped, then you'd come back home, defeated after another failed romance, and it was he who picked up the pieces and put them back together, who offered to get your favourite flavour of ice cream at two in the morning, who had seen the same rom-com film more times than he could count, who held you until you fell asleep and the cycle began once more.

And every year he allowed himself to hope that this time it would be different, that you would stop running away from your appartment for once, but every year the same thing happened again, and his heart broke just a little bit more. When he saw you that afternoon in that dress he loved so much, the same one he'd seen you wear for his birthday a couple of years ago, with the black tights that had a little rip in the back of the thigh, and those platform boots that showed off your legs and made you look slightly taller than him, he said goodbye to you in a quick cheek kiss that made his lips burn, and locked himself in his room. No matter how much weight he lifted in the gym, he was never strong enough to bear the sight of you leaving.

The plan was simple: put on his sound-cancelling headphones, work on his music until he couldn't keep his eyes opened, and pray he'd be asleep by the time you got back. He sat down at his desk, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall, and sighed before picking up his laptop. The screen read nine o'clock at night, so you'd been gone for over an hour. Now that you weren't there, he could leave his room to make himself some dinner, just to get back to his projects and stop thinking about you. At least that was the initial idea. Because it wasn't working. He kept remembering how you smiled at the feel of his lips against your skin, your still hands with the mascara bottle still between your fingers, and he wouldn't let himself forget that he didn't know who you were going out with, he hadn't reminded you to keep your location active in case something happened, that he'd be with you in a phone call.

So when he couldn't take it anymore, he got up, grabbed his car keys and took his gym bag. Maybe the physical exertion would make him tired enough to sleep, maybe if he stopped thinking about you so much he could focus on his life, maybe the fact that he didn't know about what you were going to do you was a good thing. But when he crossed the hallway ready to leave the appartment and looked into the living room, he saw you sitting on the couch 一that couch that meant so much in your friendship一 and he stopped. He walked slowly towards you, leaning against the doorframe, and watched you for a few seconds. You had taken off your boots so that you could put your feet up on the sofa, and you were curled up towards the corner where he always sat, leaving the gap he used to occupy, as if you were mourning his absence, your eyes fixed on your phone.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft, seeking not to startle you, waiting for you to make eye contact with him before continuing, "weren't you going out?"

Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, and for a moment Changbin wanted to confront the one who had upset you so much, to make him pay for making you sad. He saw you shake your head, straightening slightly, and pull your knees to your chest, curling into a ball.

"I couldn't," you whispered, swallowing back a sob.

"Did he stood you up?" Changbin asked.

"He..." you began, shying away from his gaze, your red cheeks making him frown, "he's not you."

"What do you mean with…? Oh"

"Yes," you chuckled, humourless, your laughter a sound devoid of emotion, your face falling as you realised that the surprise in Changbin's eyes could only mean one thing. "Oh. No matter how hard I've tried, no one has ever managed to be you. Not even close to what you mean to me, or how I feel about you. It's... it's not fair. But it's the truth."

"So, all this time...?" he asked, absorbing your every word, drawing in his mind a sketch of all he had missed out on because he had been too lost in you, letting the gym bag fall to the floor and crossing his arms, a shield between you, in case something went wrong. He had looked at the calendar, right? Today was Valentine's Day and not April Fool's Day, even if it surely felt like someone was pranking him.

"Not all the time" you pointed out, each sentence feeling like a stab in your heart, bleeding over your voice, as he stood in front of you, asking you about your stupid crush like he needed an ego boost, and not like you were opening up to him. "Not at first. You were the cute guy of the Ikea, a real friendship. You're my anchor, you know that. But when things started to change, I... I didn't deserve you. I never did. And even though I started dating guys, none of them were you. You... you were my best friend, Binnie."

"Were? As in not anymore?" then he approached you, squatting down in front of the couch, just as he had done so many years ago, resting a trembling hand on your knee. He had looked at you softly again, as he had looked at you once, but this time his eyes exuded a fear that he had never let you see before.

"I can't" you muttered, closing your eyes and covering your face with your hands, black tears of ruined make-up sliding down your skin. "Not when I'm in love with you, and I know you don't reciprocate my feelings."

And when he saw you look up, panic shining in your pupils, and he frowned back at you, as if you had offended him, it all felt like déjà vu. He told you, his tone dead serious, that you were wrong, and that although it seemed like you were reliving that anecdote you both loved to tell, you should never take his feelings for granted. You let out a disbelieving laugh, closing your eyes and resting your forehead on his shoulder, and silence fell over you both as Changbin whispered how much he loved you, that he hated that you had both suffered so much for a love that was actually so obvious, that you had been idiots with a lame communication, and that if there was anyone who deserved to be with him, it was you.

And he knew you were trying to take in his words, to memorise them, to lose yourself in his arms and never leave them. And almost like in a fairy tale, you asked him for a kiss, in that soft voice he would do anything for, and the gentle touch of your lips against his made him pull you on top of him, sitting on your green sofa. You sighed happily, perched on his lap, enjoying his warmth, the firmness of his hands on your hips, the soothing rest of his chin on your head, and Changbin watched you drift off to sleep, your heart beating along with his, savouring the moment.

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[yourheart-inmyhands]

Yesss I can finally request!!1!!!

Sorry I just wanted needed to know this 😔

Yan!Archons with a s/o who acts like a mother. Like with Zhongli, the s/o treats Xiao and Qiqi like their children. I feel like most of them would take advantage of it 💀💀

i'm pretty sure i've said it before but i don't particularly want kids but y'all give me awful baby fever D:<

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, uh honestly there isn't much in this one either, other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti thinks it’s cute, seeing the way you interact with the little kids around town. Diona and Klee adore you, loving that you always bring them snacks and treat them with such kindness. It especially warms his heart because he knows how absent their real parents are so he doesn’t mind letting you out of the house more often for their sake. He also won’t deny the absolute baby fever it gives him, the sudden urge to have children of your own taking over his mind entirely. 

Venti couldn’t help the smile on his face as he watched you play around with the two girls. They had insisted you help them with their hair, them having messed it up after playing tag in the city. He couldn’t deny the sudden urge to have a child of your own, a sweet little thing that was the perfect mix of the two of you. Archons couldn’t have children with humans though, so for now he was content to watch you interact with the local Mondstat kids, dreaming of the day you could have your own.

Yandere!Zhongli would find you parenting Xiao and QiQi to be quite humorous. He had spent many years trying to parent the angsty boy himself and yet you made much faster progress in a month. QiQi could also be quite the challenge and yet you had the patience of an Archon themself with her. A true gift to him and both the kids.

Zhongli watched as you scolded Xiao for getting hurt again, leaving QiQi to find him and bring him back to BuBu Pharmacy. It was quite funny to see the boy get so flustered, hands fiddling with his polearm. Zhongli had gotten on the boy's case many times about this and he never seemed to take it to heart, but you had a different effect on the male. Even QiQi seemed to naturally trust your judgment despite her forgetful nature. It warmed Zhongli’s heart to see you getting along so well with the two, loving her naturally you seemed to fall into the parental role. 

Yandere!Raiden doesn’t see any use in children, after everything with Kunikuzushi she simply has no desire to be in the parental role. She also believes it to be unnecessary for you as the two of you will never have children together. Despite this she will still allow you to interact with the local children, namely Sayu.

Raiden sighed as she saw you playing with the young girl in the courtyard, a lighthearted game of tag being played amongst the two of you. Sayu often came here to hide out from Kano Nana, enjoying the sunlight naps that you two would take or the fun, simple games you’d play. Tag was her favorite but she was also fond of hide and seek as well as eye spy. While Raiden would never outright tell you that she disapproved, she’d never join you either, making it known her opinion from across the way. Her subtle glare and cold shoulder all the proof you need. 

Yandere!Furina doesn’t like kids, she thinks that she should be the only one to get your undivided attention and that she’s plenty fun and entertaining. Why do you want to hang out with kids when she's already baby?

An annoyed huff left Furina’s as you continued to interact with the Melusines. You two were supposed to be out on a date together, not hanging out with the Melusines. It was Neuvillette’s job to look after them, not yours! You should be paying attention to her, giving her your love and time and focusing on what she has to say. She’s certainly going to throw a fit if it continues, and even more so if you just try to brush it off. You are Furina’s partner and you should be giving her all your love.

[lightlycareless]

Okay but.. what if Satoru is her ex and now she is with Naoya because she was cheated on👉👈

IS THIS FOR THE HIGHSCHOOL AU? CAUSE IF IT IS I LOVE YOU AND THANK YOU FOR FEEDING MY ADDICTION.

Anyways, this add a whole new layer of complexity to Y/N and Naoya's relationship. I was toying with the idea of Y/N already having a boyfriend, or more like a crush, but tHIS omg....

So I rewrote this like 3-4 times, and at first I was like I don’t want to be angsty, but then I thought well, if Y/N was cheated on then it can’t be anything but angsty, because it’s a huge breach of trust, you know?

And thus, everything else occurred. I think I might've gotten carried away and I'm not sure if this is what you wanted.... but hey, it's what came to me :') I hope you like it nonetheless!

warnings: mentions of cheating, people being jerks, insecurities, that kind of stuff. it's sad at first, but I like to think it gets sweet at the end.

Let’s set up the bases: the one that would take the first step in terms of seeking a relationship with the other would be Naoya—since cheating was involved, Satoru is/must’ve been a jerk (well, he is known for being insufferable, but still)

Once that’s set…

The first time you stepped into Naoya’s life would be through the sprouting rumors of Satoru’s “love life.”

Nothing that he’d be able to keep a secret due to his popularity, if anything many thought it was surprising this hadn’t come out far earlier, but now that it was out, many of his “admirers” could do nothing but gossip about it. Amongst them, Naoya.

Naoya wasn’t necessarily the same type of admirer as the others—not… that infatuated. But he still wanted to be around him, since he considered Satoru to be on the same level as him, the same… social circle, per say. And because he thought himself to be somewhat remotely similar, he also needed to keep up with whatever he did.

So, when he heard that he used to a have a girlfriend, it was… well, shocking to say the least. And not because anyone thought he couldn’t get a partner, of course not, but rather, because he actually settled down for once.

And because that meant Satoru had gotten a girlfriend first before him, and that was… upsetting, to say the least.

But pushing that aside, he quickly became determined in finding out who was the “lucky” girl that managed to capture Satoru’s attention, enough for him to consider her for a formal relationship, and of course, why it ended.

Because of Satoru’s reputation, and the fact that he was single yet again, many began to assume that the reason why they broke up was because she didn’t “satisfy” him adequately.

That she was probably “boring” or couldn’t comply with his “extravagant” lifestyle. The girls sure were having the time of their life imagining how they’d be better suited for him, essentially allowing him a life of debauchery, while the boys were more inclined into meeting the one that managed to “catch” him.

Thus, Naoya’s search for Satoru’s ex-girlfriend begins.

He has a notion, something to begin with: for sure pretty, because let’s be real, Naoya doesn’t know anyone that would date someone they didn’t consider absolutely stunning. She just must be.

From there, someone that matches his prestige, meaning, rich; unless he decided to go a completely different route and choose someone a bit more… humble, but he doesn’t think so. Naoya knows how the game goes, old money must be preserved, and others outside of that social circle tended to not blend in, so he doesn’t believe Satoru would’ve bothered.

But anyways, Naoya would find soon enough; all that he needed to do is ask around, maybe even nag Satoru a bit so he’d tell himself… to confirm the horrible image she had thanks to the sour opinions’ others began to have of his ex-girlfriend, Naoya intending to do the same once uncovering her identity…

Until he finally saw her.

She’d been right under his nose all this time, a somewhat quiet yet giddy girl from another class, one year younger than him, who’d occasionally be teased by his seniors for the sole reason of being “overprotected” by her siblings, also students at the school, or were anyway, one of them already graduated.

A girl named Y/N, whom upon getting a better look at her… found her to be incredibly cute.

And the vivid contrast of what he believed.

He couldn’t believe it.

Naoya truly couldn’t believe his eyes. He always thought that if Satoru had broken up with her was because she… well, because she was a bit mundane, right? That had to be. There was no synergy, no good reason for him to stick around…

But the reality had been so much different. You—you were someone that he could only consider captivating given the way he couldn’t get his eyes off you. And because he always considered himself to be somewhat in Satoru’s level, meaning that they’d have similar tastes and what not… 

Naoya couldn’t fathom why he’d ever leave you.

For what little he’d seen of you, Naoya could easily disclose you were someone alluring.

So, Naoya decides to go forward with his plan, in the sense of approaching you to get to know you better. However, with a small change: not to divulge on you negatively, but rather, because he genuinely wants to do so…

And the surprise he receives is far bigger than he could’ve ever imagined; he hoped to find (yet again) something that would make you unlikeable, something to justify Satoru’s decision, maybe an annoying mannerism, a nasty habit, or just— anything, really.

But all that he finds… is things that pull him further and further into you. And soon, not only did he find you likeable, but also, wishing for something more… intimate between the two.

Starting by wanting to spend most, if not all, of his time with you. Getting to hear your voice talking about no particular topic—and it didn’t matter how, either. It could be a phone call, or in person—he just wanted to be the focus of your attention.

Or getting to see your face too. To see so first thing in the morning, or last thing at night, sounds amazing to him. Seek you out at soon as his classes are done, eat lunch together, (maybe even let you feed him? No, at least not in public) or do homework together. Since he’s already taken your classes, he’s more than happy to help you out, if it meant you’d praise him as sweetly as you’ve always done.

The thought is enough to make him blush—and with this, it’s clear that Naoya wants you to be his, and solely his.

Even if his skepticism about Satoru and his decision to dump you went on, it didn’t matter.

You were incredible, you are incredible. The girl of his dreams…. And if Satoru couldn’t see that, then he was a fool!

It was set then, he’d make you his girlfriend, treat you like no other has, and the two will be happy together, hopefully forever!

Or so… that’s what he wished would happen. Because his plans would only come to a screeching halt when you’d reject his sentiments, with a saddened face that more than portraying sorrow, displayed disappointment, gently shaking your head as you murmur.

“I’m sorry, but… I can’t”

And so, that’s how Naoya’s dreams would come to cease, with an abrupt rejection that left him hollow, voice of a heart, as he saw you further and further walking away from him, until you were no longer there, absent for the coming days.

But even when he was given more than enough reason to no longer seek you, Naoya couldn’t keep his mind off you. And every second of the day, whether at school or at home, all that he kept wondering was why you’d rejected him.

Why had you taken such a decision, and without even looking like you were considering it?

Had it been something he’d done? Did someone tell you something unsavory about him? If that’s the case, he can fix that. He can easily explain whatever it was, deal with whoever had done such a thing, so you’d talk to him again!

But… more than devastated by your rejection, he was deeply, incredibly infuriated.

Because rejection wasn’t something that Naoya took easily. For someone as egocentric as him, this was not something he could ever overcome as an unfortunate but common occurrence and just move on.

And with the previous notions he had of you through Satoru’s “friends” … those sentiments just grew bigger and bigger.

Thus, it wouldn’t take long before he approached you once more, but this time, with intentions of demanding to know why you had rejected him in the first place—all with a look on his face that made you flinch, never thinking him capable of such… harsh reaction.

But even after being suitably spooked, and consistently insisted on by Naoya, you eventually respond, at least with what you could muster so as to not appear any more vulnerable with him.

“Because I don’t want to.” You murmur, looking down to the floor. Naoya frowns.

“There must be a reason. There must be an actual reason as to why you don’t want to—it can’t be just because of that.”

“It is.” You reiterate. “That’s all.”

“I don’t believe it.” He insists. “You always have something to say! Now you’re telling me you don’t?”

You frown, if his actions weren’t hurtful enough, his words now offended you.

“If you’re going to keep making fun of me, you can leave”

“Keep?” he asks. “What do you mean keep? If anything, you’d be the one making fun of me!”

“Don’t act like you don’t know… it’s the whole reason why you’re here, isn’t?” you say, now looking up to him and revealing the now sorrowful look of your reddening, watery eyes. Naoya is slightly taken aback by the sight, his heart slightly twinging with pain. “To make a fool of me again, right?”

“Where did you even get that ide—"

“Just answer one question—just one” You interrupt, voice trembling before swallowing, as if to ease the nerves growing inside you. “Are you friends with Satoru?”

He blinks, taken aback by your query, but he does not answer.

“Answer me, Naoya!” You challenged “Do you get along with him, yes or no?!”

…

…

…

“Yes.”

“I fucking knew it.” You breathe, clenching your hands. “I knew it—I knew it.”

“What are you—”

“Drop the act, Naoya! I’ve seen right through you!”

“What act? What are you—what are you even talking about, Y/N?”

“What all his friends do!” you gasp. “What they’ve been doing the moment they found out I used to date Satoru!”

“What do they… do…?” Naoya murmurs slowly. “What does that even have to do with my feelings for—”

“It has to do everything.” You gasp. “It has to do with everything!”

You thought you’d be able to get away from the horrible experience your rupture with Satoru had brought you; those nasty, dark sentiments that completely engulfed your heart, leaving you nothing but a shell of the person you were, if not worse.

All because Satoru had committed the worst transgression he could’ve done at that moment, something so horrible and painful for someone as young and naïve as you:

He cheated on you.

When it happened, it felt as if your heart was being pierced with a thousand needles, twisted and pulled apart, before breaking up in a thousand pieces, settling in your chest to constantly inundate your mind, before drowning your voice with nothing but cries and tears.

And no matter how much you tried to move past this painful incident, think about anything else, your mind always brought you back to the horrible sight of Satoru being in the arms of someone else—and each time it just hurt worse.

Because after all was said and done, you truly cared for him. Far than just care for him, genuinely thought him to be your… other half, the love of your life. The man you’d end up marrying in the future!

Could you be blamed? He was your first serious relationship, and he had been the one to make a move at first… believing it was the start of your own love story, just as you’ve seen repeated over and over in the world around you.

But it wasn’t, and now, you’re here, left behind, in solitude, to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

Your family would try to comfort you by telling you that this was just a one-time incident, that it was not your fault as you began to believe, that this was his decision, his fault, and that there was nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all.

Reaffirming that love still exists, even though it seemed almost impossible to think of at that moment, because after all, you had your mom and dad as an example—and most importantly, that pain will pass, you just have to give it time.

And perhaps because they insisted so much, or because you were always the hopeless romantic, you ended up trying your best to move on to a new day, think that the future had something better planned for you, that this was only a small stumble on the way, nothing more…

So, you began. One day at a time, surrounding yourself with your friends and family, people that had your wellbeing in mind; And it seemed to work, you began to feel a bit better, start expecting a better outcome for the coming days…

Until you met someone that began to show interest in you, far more than just a friend that is, and seemed to demonstrate so with his actions. He was charming, to say the least, funny, got along with everyone else, but was also very attentive to you, always making you feel special.

You didn’t want to think much of it at first, the scars in your heart reminding you to do so… but your poor heart began to think that maybe your parents were right in saying that “someone better always comes along.” That first comes the storm, and then… peace.

At last, it was finally your turn. It was finally the moment to meet the love of your life, the one that would make the rest of your days whole, and stop feeling lonely, as you’ve always felt.

Only to be proved wrong when you went on searching through his phone by accident after hearing it ring and ring, and he was away.

You thought it an emergency, the only reason why you’d ever do such thing… but the moment you did, you damned ever considering it such, for why he was being pestered over the phone wasn’t because his family needed him, or maybe some overdue project his teammates desperately needed to finish—it’s because he was disclosing all that he was doing with you with someone else, with a group… and making fun of it.

No—not making fun of the things he was doing.

Making fun of you.

Of the apparently silly ways you’d react, the stupid things you liked—but most importantly, wondering why Satoru ever considered you to be his girlfriend, when it was obvious with this past evidence, that you were nothing of the like. If anything, you got cheated on because you deserved it.

Because a boring girl like you probably deserved it.

And this shattered whatever was left of your poor heart, further secluding yourself from those outside of your social circle, quick to interject anyone that you’d sense had other intentions with you, hoping to save yourself from the pain—

Until Naoya came along.

There was something about him that immediately caught your attention, something you’ve never felt before, not even those jerks that attempted to befriend you—maybe it was his unusual hair color, the cool piercings on his ear, or simply because you found him handsome—that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him for too long. A fascination that worsened when you began to know him.

At first you thought he approached you because he noticed you staring at him, which caused you to be very, very tense when he began walking over to you; but thankfully, it didn’t seem to be nothing of the like, instead, he apparently just wanted you to help him move something from the nearby classroom onto another, and any other things that might pop up on the way.

It was slow, the way Naoya would interact with you when doing so, almost as if hesitant; but it wouldn’t take long before he became a bit more assertive with his actions, to the point where you decided to ignore your warnings and begin to open up to him, sharing the things you liked, and finding out that the two harbored many similarities than what you initially perceived… certainly far bigger than what you had with those that had come before.

With Naoya, he didn’t seem to judge you—didn’t look at you as if you’d grown a second head or was simply following your lead to pursue dubious intentions. No. He was listening to you and was sharing his own with an interest you couldn’t consider anything less than genuine.

You didn’t want to admit it easily, didn’t want to betray your hard-set motivation in keeping away… but there was something about Naoya that made it impossible, and while debating whether to pursue this feeling or not, you decided to rely on your friends for advice—albeit deep inside, you were looking for their blessing.

But instead of receiving the words you wanted to hear, those pushing you to follow your heart, you got a crude, cold reality check that quickly reminded you that your heartache had yet to end, and if anything, Satoru’s friends had just gotten more creative.

Satoru had no direct correlation with what was happening to you, for during your time is when you came to realize that someone with his status and power was bound attract lots of attention, and certainly… followers, whom ready to dissect every little aspect of his life—you included.

But was it really that hard to tell them to stop? To leave you alone? That even when you were the one that ended things, he was the one that wronged you, thus, you’ve already gone through enough?

Of course, that was something that fate wouldn’t grant you so easily, if ever. To be constantly reminded of a mistake you did in your youth, for now, in the shape of the young man standing before you.

“I know the game; I’ve been a player for far too long.” You say. “And I don’t want to keep going at it if all I’m going to be is a loser.”

There’s a sadness in your voice that immediately deepens the growing pain in Naoya’s heart, and soon, all the anger and disappointment he had towards you is quickly discarded, replaced by worry.

Just… what happened between the two?

“What happened Y/N?” he begins. “What happened with you and Satoru?”

“Don’t act like you don’t—” you begin to snap.

“I don’t” Naoya interjects, shaking his head. “I really, genuinely don’t know.”

And whether by the look of his eye, or the softness in his voice, you take it as him being honest. Maybe your personal life wasn’t as divulged as you thought it was.

Well, he ought to know now or later, so why not cut the chase?

This might as well be your moment to set the record straight, if it even mattered at that point.

“Satoru cheated on me” you begin, having to say so out loud still makes your heart clench, especially since the last time you ever uttered those words when was the wound was still fresh. “I… found him with someone else one day, when he was supposed to be doing something else…

I broke up with him soon after that and kept my distance, for my sake. But then, someone started to spread rumors about what happened, twisting the story to their liking, but always portraying me as the bad one. The one that deserved to be cheated on, because the “great Gojo Satoru” could never do wrong. And if he did, it’s because of a very valid reason.”

“What?” Naoya breathes, blinking as if that were to pull him back to reality.

Did he hear you right?

All this time, you— you were the one that—

“What do you mean cheated—”

“You didn’t strike me as someone who wouldn’t know what that means.” You frown.

“No, I know what cheating is.” He responds. “What I can’t believe is—”

“That he dated me? Yes, I know. I’ve heard it a thousand times befo—"

“No. That’s not it.” Naoya shakes his head. “I can’t believe that he—"

That he cheated on you.

That Satoru would cheat with the most perfect, beautiful, funny, supportive, caring girl he’s ever met in his life? Do that to the girl Naoya has been unknowingly dreaming of for all his life, and now had the pleasure of meeting?

How could someone so vile as Satoru not understand the blessings you represented?

Well, that was a bit hypocritical of Naoya to say at first, since he too was a very difficult person at times… careless to the privileges his status had brought, even more with the people around him.

But now that he met you, he could finally see the error in his way. The… fault in the ideology he carried.

Because he could never find himself, not anymore, harming the one person he’d ever felt such strong feelings for.

Now he knew why mothers were so overprotective of their children, why partners would go above and beyond to ensure that the other is safe, loved, protected…

He never felt that sentiment before, never understood why people were so… sappy, cringy with others.

Until he met you.

Until he met you, did he understand why they’d do so in the first place, and it felt almost silly that he ever thought otherwise, when now all that he wants to do is be with you, give you the whole world, bring you down the stars, if it meant you’d be happy again.

And to think he even justified the nasty things people were saying about you.

He’s even ashamed to have ever belonged to their side.

“My feelings for you are true.” Is what Naoya would come to say. “Since the moment I saw you, I’ve always felt this… attraction to you; but when I finally got to know you better, the person you truly are, is when I knew that what I felt for you was much more than finding you pretty.”

“Naoya—” you sob, tears now falling down your cheeks, raising your hands to wipe them equally fast as they began to appear. “That’s not—Don’t take me for a fool—!”

“If you don’t believe me.” He begins, taking a step closer to you and attempting to grab one of your hands, you swat him away. “Then let me prove it to you.”

“I don’t want you to do any—”

“However long it takes, whatever I need to do” he insists, finally taking hold of your wrist. “I’ll show you how much you mean to me.”

Naoya then carefully raises one of his hands to your face, gently swiping away one of your tears as you remained there, speechless, but sad. He didn’t know where this uncharacteristic softness came from — certainly never have done so in his life with anyone else— only that it felt right to do so.

And you… you wouldn’t have allowed such thing if you didn’t harbor any kind of sentiments from him to begin with, his words giving you hope for something you’ve long thought lost… but because you were in such emotional turmoil of disbelief, you didn’t find it in yourself to make a decision at that moment, or allowing him to be near you like this, opting to free yourself out of Naoya’s grasp, quickly turning around and leaving him on the spot.

It was undeniable that you didn’t expect him to go through with his words, initially believing them to be nothing but a joke, something to get you to lower your guard, and if he did, it wouldn’t last beyond a few days….

But Naoya would soon prove himself to be a man of his word when the 8th day came along and had gifted you for the consecutive time your favorite brand of mochi, the one you recalled telling him one time, if you ever did—to the point were you had to give some away because you didn’t believe you’d ever get to finish them!

Followed by a plushie of your favorite videogame, each day a different one, any that he could find, enough to fill boxes and boxes with them, making you consider opening your own store and reselling them…

Culminating in buying you the newest release of said franchise, which you’ve been saving up for weeks now, spending nothing of your allowance just for a chance to get it, but now that Naoya had taken care of that, what were you going to do with that money?

Well, whatever it was that you thought, Naoya would find out eventually, and take care of it, moving you back to the start.

But while these actions were… alluring by their own, they were nothing compared to what he did last.

Naoya would be underestimating his feelings if he didn’t voice just how infuriated he truly was to hear that first, Satoru had cheated on you, and secondly, that his so called “friends” had been pestering you about it—no, not pestering you, tormenting you. Picking at you as if you were the novelty hobby, the prime instigator, when it had been the other way around, and you were only smart to call quits!

He couldn’t see the same people he used to involve himself with without feeling disdain for them, especially those he knew had only gone above and beyond to make a miserable, laughingstock out of you.

And as the always determined man to take matter into his own hands, it didn’t take long for you to se the consequences of it.

It’s what finally pushed you to talk to him, after all.

“Y/N, good morning.” He says, a soft smile on his face upon seeing you approach him. Like a lost puppy, he couldn’t help himself from beaming with excitement when seeing your familiar, cute, adorable face looking at him after days of silence. “How are you—”

“…You had something to do with that, didn’t you?” you ask, straight to the point. Your bluntness surprised Naoya, but he can’t say he wasn’t expecting this at one point, hoped it would, really.

“With what?” He asks, there were many things he had planned for you, but he didn’t want to be the one to reveal them. Naoya wished to keep the element of surprise for as long as possible.

“You know exactly what. It’s… with them” and Naoya does his best to grin proudly.

“Did something happen?” he asks instead, feigning ignorance.

No.

Nothing bad, at least; completely unexpected… yet welcomed, because it gave you both things your heart always wanted, but never voiced in fear of being hurt.

“… the ones that made fun of me, they… apologized to me.” You begin, the first of your closures.

And it was only obvious that they would, for as soon as Naoya found out the responsible ones of your growing pain, he made sure to find them and give them a hard-earned lesson through… unconventional matters, nothing that could be traced to him, of course.

You could only guess what it had been due to the frightened look on their faces when they sought your forgiveness, as well as the bruises on their arms…

Which you didn’t necessarily agree with, but at the same time, you couldn’t deny the obvious: the impact that Naoya’s actions have caused on your life, starting from his appearance to his insistence, and now, this.

“Really?” He asks. “That’s good, it’s the bare minimum…”

“I don’t need to be a detective to know you had something to do with it” You respond, and he just shrugs, still putting up the ignorant act. But if anything, that just gave away his involvement.

“But… why?”

You knew the answer, but perhaps you needed to hear it with your own ears.

The second of your closures.

“I told you, didn’t I?” he responds. “I wanted to show you how much you truly mean to me…”

Before looking away, cheeks red upon noticing your intent stare at him, instead of running away.

“But, I mean—yeah, what they did was wrong. As I said, it’s the bare minimum!” he coughs. “You didn’t deserve to be treated like that, not when you weren’t the one at fault.”

And at the culmination of his words, his actions, and now, your feelings—you can’t help but cry, tears falling down your cheeks as you let out a quiet sob.

But your tears weren’t of sadness, or disappointment, no. They were far from that.

They were of happiness, for the realization that you finally obtained what you’ve longed for in your life, what your heart always dreamed of since the moment you had conscience: to find the man that would do anything for you; prove you such… cherish you….

“I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—cry.” You’d say, laughing nervously as you do your best to wipe away the falling tears. “It’s the 2nd time you’ve seen me do this, and we’re not even that close—”

“What difference does it make, if you’re going to be my girlfriend either way?” He attempts to joke, lighten up the mood so as to get you to stop crying, but when you don’t respond is when he notes he might’ve greatly miscalculated the moment, feeling nothing but a jerk. “I—forget what I said, I shouldn’t—

“I…I’ll have to think about it.” You begin softly through sniffles. “It all depends on where we go on our first date.”

His heart soars for you.

“I know a place that might push you into considering it.” He teases, and for the first time, of many to come, he makes you blush.

“…We shall see, then.” You chuckle, continuing to wipe some of the tears off your face, until Naoya wins you to it by swiping them with his thumb. The gesture, alongside his closeness, further flusters you, but makes you feel good, nonetheless.

If being with him means you’d get this kind of attention, this kind of care, and the promise that your feelings will be reciprocated….

Then you wouldn’t mind giving love a second chance.

[onmyyan]

Okay so there's this specific genre of fics about the Yandere batfamily x neglected!Reader that I'm obsessing over and basically, reader joins the family unexpectedly, usually a long lost kid from an old fling of Bruce's, and it's wonderfully angsty as the batfamily is so caught up in their own shit they inadvertently ignore/neglect the reader, the isolation is bad because they don't show her their vigilante life, so she's just sees it as some secret family club she isn't good enough to be in, they're always together and talking in hushed whispers about their patrol's, it's hard not to feel like an outsider, the tension is high throughout the years as she sees them act so lovingly towards each other but so indifferent towards her, and then something happens, (reader gets hurt, tries to run away, is kidnapped ECT) and then the batfam's yandere tendencies kick into high gear and they try to fix their severely damaged relationship, lawd I love this concept so much if I write it I'll be tagging the works that inspired me bec everyone should read them omg, anyway I love how jarring it must be once that switch happens, how all of a sudden reader is getting the attention and love she wanted for years, only now she doesn't need it, she's a grown independent woman who's only ever had herself to rely on, after all when you grow up in the shade of such a tight knit family, always on the outside looking in, it tends to make you self sufficient.

I have a few ideas for this concept, one where reader is incredibly smart and after years of fighting for an ounce of affection, gives up on the Batfamily, gets an internship at Lexcorp because Lex recognized her brilliance, he becomes a Yandere for her shortly after reading over her file, because the thought of Yandere!batfam begging for readers attention and affection after years of indifference towards her only to have her seek comfort in a villainous man like Lex Luthor is tew tasty.

My other idea for this concept is the same set up only Reader notices what the family is up to, quickly putting together that her father is Batman and that everyone in the house is a vigilante, she's 17/18 at this point and still desperate to belong to this family so she starts training, going to local gyms and picking fights so she can get used to getting the shit kicked out of her, no one notices her absences, no one but Alfred, he catches her limping in at some ungodly hour, blood seeping through her shirt, a needle and thread in one hand as she clumsily tries to stitch herself up, he asks her what happened, not expecting the most demure and quiet member of the family in this state, she tells him in an empty voice, "Doesn't matter." And Alfred is taken aback by the coldness in her eyes. He of course reports this to Bruce after patching her up, and he shrugs it off, "If she was in some kind of trouble she'd say something." Bruce is certain, sure he hadn't yet truly bonded with his daughter but he was sure he had time to, after all he was a man with the world on his shoulders and a plethora of other people who he felt needed his attention more, (y/n) never gave him problems, she kept to herself and was so self sufficient he felt comfortable putting her on the back burner, years go by and now 23, reader has shaped herself into a proper vigilante, her fighting style is raw, pure anger in her punches, she takes care of Gotham, sure she's not fighting world ending threats, but she's saving people, helping, it's helped to fill the void in her chest where her family's love was supposed to go, the batfamily knows about this new vigilante but know nothing about them, the suit reader wears is tactical that hides everything about her identity, not sure how but she gets unmasked/ hurt and unmasked and they find out, cue Yandere Batfamily.

[shybunnie20]

Eddie Munson x Alt!Fem!Reader

★Teaser ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie seeks Steve's assistance in wooing you, but it doesn’t go the way he planned.

Author's Note: This was so fun to write! I don’t think it turned out particularly angsty tbh. There's a little bit of Halloween in it, 'tis the season.

Proofread to an extent. 90s AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Reader is vaguely depicted: wears black, has tattoos and piercings (no amount or locations indicated for either), enjoys spooky movies, and likes metal music. Happy ending!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: brief mention of alcohol consumption, includes more swearing than usual

The sun hangs low, blowing kisses of dusk through the streaky panes of Family Video. Inside the store, the sporadic popping of kernels sets the tone for the evening shift.

When it comes to this job, unboxing shipments of snacks is the one task that manages to hold Eddie’s fleeting attention, simply because it gives him an excuse to wield a box cutter. Alas, today is not one where a shipment has been delivered. He’s more or less getting paid to hang out and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leaning beside the register, Eddie lazily flips through a dated issue of Rolling Stone magazine. He’s not even reading the articles, just skimming the pictures.

In the documentary section, Steve is busy restocking the shelves. “I heard Keith’s giving out a plaque for 'Least Productive Employee' this year. If ya ask me, I think you’ve got Robin beat.”

“That’s debatable,” Eddie licks the pad of his finger and flips the page. “You’ve got it handled, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but there’s plenty of stuff that needs to get done before we get slammed tonight.”

“I’m doing my part,” Eddie raises his head and a smirk slowly overtakes his bored expression. “Someone’s gotta keep the front counter company. It gets lonely.”

“Aw, how touching. Of all things, you’ve found true love with a piece of furniture,” Steve scoops up the bucket of go-backs and sidesteps to the neighboring genre. “That’s gotta be the closest thing you’ve ever had to a relationship.”

Burn, but an accurate one. Eddie isn’t a Casanova but there’s nothing wrong with that, not at all. He’s got his hobbies and friends, what point is there in trying to convince the town that he’s up for a little romance? Besides, the absence of encounters means that flirting isn’t in his wheelhouse.

Eddie looks down at the face of his Casio, reading that it’s nearing seven o’clock. “Hey, do we still have a copy of Beetlejuice around?”

“I doubt it. All of the spooky shit has been going like hotcakes since Halloween is right around the corner.”

As customers trickle through the door, Eddie shifts to the computer system and types hurriedly on the keyboard. “Fuck, it’s gotta be here,” He abandons the register and searches the store.

Steve opens a case and snaps it closed, entirely oblivious to the commotion until Eddie whizzes by in his peripheral vision. “Okay, this is a whole new level of obnoxious,” Steve huffs. “Why are you so hell-bent on finding that specific movie?”

“Because she’s probably gonna wanna rent it, and if we don’t have it…” Eddie trails off as he flies by on the other side of the store.

“Cool your jets, turbo,” Steve notices that more people are coming into the store so he waves Eddie over. The last thing they need is a lawsuit because an old lady got plowed down. “Seriously, what gives?”

Wheezing at the end of the aisle, Eddie hunches over and bows his head. He grips his knees for dear life while he tries to catch his breath. “There’s this girl.”

Steve’s feathered brows mirror the nosey tone of his voice. “Who is it? Do I know her?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie coughs. “But she stops in every Friday night.”

“News flash, butthead. It’s the busiest day of the week, that’s not exactly narrowing it down,” Steve feels a creeping presence over his shoulder. Speaking of old ladies; he peeks, just to find an elderly woman encroaching on his personal space to view the titles that he’s blocking. “Sorry,” he says halfheartedly before directing his coworker toward the register with a toss of his head. “Is it Tara P.?”

“Nope,” Eddie follows and plops on the stool furthest from the computer. “She wears a lot of black, has tattoos, piercings-”

Steve shakes his index finger. “Okay, yeah, I know who you’re talking about now. She’s always dressed for a funeral,” He snorts.

“I know, isn’t it hot?” Eddie sighs dreamily while he tugs at his green coil key ring, stretching it as far as it’ll go.

“I mean, if you’re into that kinda thing,” Steve shudders dramatically. “Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“I’m definitely into that,” Eddie gnaws on the soft pink flesh of his lips as he pauses. “There’s this aura around her, y’know? Not just her looks either, it’s her energy too.”

“Dark and brooding, huh? That’s what gets ya going?” Steve switches to his customer service voice as he checks out the elderly woman with minimal back and forth.

“Yeah, whenever she’s around my hands get all sweaty,” Eddie looks down at his large palms that are growing slick from discussing you. “She hangs out at the bar where I play. God, just seeing her makes my heart sing.”

He loses himself in thinking about seeing you at Wraith. You’re the only one that he strives to impress but he has yet to. You dance to other bands but not Eddie’s. Sometimes you nod your head to the beat, though it’s never enough for you to acknowledge his existence.

“Pass me a barf bag,” Steve gags. “Makes your heart sing?”

“Whatever, dude. It’s not like you’re gettin’ any action with your Harrington charm.”

“Excuse you,” Steve looks at Eddie pointedly. “I almost got that girl’s number on Monday, thank you very much. She was totally digging me.”

“Was she, though? ‘Cause she left without giving you her digits,” Eddie chuckles mockingly and tilts his head. “How many more times do you have to strike out before you finally throw in the towel?”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who canoodles furniture,” Steve scoffs. “Don’t come for my manhood. At least I have the balls to make a move.”

“So many moves, and yet, so few takers!” Eddie throws his head back and laughs boisterously.

“Put a sock in it,” Steve groans.

Speak of the devil. Eddie spots you walking into the store, just as you always do at this time. “Oh god,” He gulps and his joints lock, freezing time and space simultaneously. His mouth is slightly agape as the world comes to a standstill. His vision narrows to a tunnel, rendering him deaf and mute.

Steve snaps his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. “Jesus, man. Try to act somewhat normal,” he rolls his eyes. “If you even know how.”

Eddie does not know how especially not after being literally snapped out of his trance. His palms are clammy, his breathing is rigid, and he’s dizzy as all hell. “Look at her,” He whispers. Christ, you look so fucking pretty today.

“Are you trying to catch flies, dude?”

“No,” Eddie scowls, promptly tightening his lax jaw. “Fuck off.”

Steve takes notice of your figure moving down the aisle and turning in their direction. “Duun dun,” he begins to imitate the Jaws shark theme. “Duuun dun,” As you approach from the other end of the store, Steve gets progressively louder. “Dun dun dun dun dun-”

“Quit!” Eddie barks through gritted teeth and kicks Steve’s calf. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Ow, that was uncalled for,” Steve bends over to rub his leg in an attempt to soothe the ache. 

“Jesus Christ! She’s coming over here,” Eddie paces in the cramped area, nearly colliding with Steve when he pivots. “What the fuck do I do? I don’t know how to be Mr. Cool Guy.”

With your chosen film in hand, you are in fact approaching the register. Steve’s voice becomes discernible as you get nearer. “...if you keep acting like such a wuss. Grow a pair and just-”

“Shut up! Shut it,” Eddie makes it appear as though he’s doing something productive to the snack display, but he’s really just shifting the packets of Skittles around.

“Just this,” you confirm by setting down the tape and digging into your purse. The atmosphere feels tense, to say the least. You’ve clearly interrupted something. It’s plain to see on the other employee’s tomato-red face.

Steve offers a straight-lipped smile and scans your membership card. “Find everything alright?”

You hum in response. While he carries on with the transaction, you notice how peculiarly still the other guy is. “Hello,” you greet him softly, hoping to ease the atmosphere.

Eddie’s hands come to a halt and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Heh,” He meant to say “hey” but only the first letter made it out alive. As you pay for your purchase, his mouth is still moving and he doesn’t know why. “That’s a good one,” he gestures to the movie.

You startle inwardly, not having anticipated an actual conversation to start. He seems nice enough. “You’re a fan of scary movies too, I take it?”

Eddie nods timidly. He flexes his fingers to combat the overwhelming numbness that’s plaguing his hands. His heart is beating so goddamn hard that it’s on the verge of bursting through his chest and landing wetly at his feet. “Yeah, I like them. They’re good. Really good.”

“Agreed,” While you tuck your wallet away, a polite smile rests on your face. “I was actually in the mood for Beetlejuice but it doesn’t look like you have it,” Your smile falls ever so slightly.

The sight causes Eddie’s pounding heart to twist and plummet to his ass. He’d give you every copy on the planet if he could.

Steve listens in over the sound of your receipt printing. His brows arch in genuine surprise that Eddie knew you’d want that movie tonight. Creepy, but impressive nonetheless. “Sorry about that,” Steve tears the paper from the machine and hands it to you. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” you nod, accept the receipt, and pick up the tape. “Have a good night,” you say to both of them and head out.

Once you’re through the doors, Eddie clutches Steve’s forearm to ground himself in reality.

“Ugh!” Steve yanks his arm away to escape the muggy grasp. “That’s gnarly, man.” 

“Do you believe me now?” Eddie wipes his sopping palms on his jeans.

“Oh, I believe you, especially after witnessing that. I’m pretty sure Henderson has more game than you.”

Eddie returns to the stool with a plop. “Just kill me already,” he rubs his face, sighing. “Put me out of my fucking misery.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time,” Steve laughs to himself. “Anyway, back to Little Miss Dead Inside. What’ve you tried?”

“Nothing,” Eddie drops his hands and slouches in defeat. “I don’t think she even knows my name.”

“You gotta give her a reason to,” Steve continues conversing from over his shoulder while he checks out another customer. “What about notes? Y’know, old-fashioned love notes.”

Eddie scrunches his nose. “I dunno about that.”

“It’s right up your alley, Shakespeare. Besides, the ladies love melodramatic shit like that.”

Eddie suddenly perks up. “Wait, I could be totally anonymous! She could figure it out on her own. That way she comes to me and I don’t even have to approach her.” 

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“This could totally work,” Eddie motions to Steve’s head. “Who woulda thought there’s a few marbles rollin’ around in there.”

“Ha-ha,” Steve continues to slowly but surely shorten the line. “Don’t think I’m helping you.”

“The hell you aren’t,” Eddie hops up on the counter beside the register. He swings his legs with newfound optimism and tears open a package of red vines. “You’re obligated to help since it’s your idea.”

“I absolutely am not, and I have no interest in being inadvertently bitten by some vampire chick. Leave me out of it.”

“C’mon, I’ll owe you big time,” Eddie begs with his mouth full of waxy candy.

“You have to clean the restroom for two weeks,” Steve declares with a smirk.

“No fucking shot,” Eddie points with a half-bitten licorice rope. “Pick something else.”

“Do you want help or not?”

Eddie did indeed want help, so he agreed to the bullshit terms and conditions. He can scrub a toilet, no problemo. Honestly, he’d polish a hundred of them with a toothbrush if that meant you’d step into his life. You’re worth cleaning toilets for.

After closing up shop for the night, Eddie sits at his desk in his bedroom until the early hours. He writes draft after draft, struggling to find words that are forward and inviting without coming on too strong right off the bat.

Upon your arrival the following week, Eddie is shaking like a leaf. He listens to your interaction with Steve while being partially concealed behind a tall cardboard cut-out. Despite not being able to see you, he can see your lips forming the words in his mind. Your voice alone is making him weak in the knees. Eddie’s certain that if you don’t hightail it out of here soon, they’ll buckle and his cover will be blown.

Once he’s certain you’ve left, Eddie releases the breath he’s been holding since you walked in. “How’d it go? She didn’t see you put the note in there, right?”

“Why are you even asking? You eavesdropped the whole time. Yeah, it went fine, she didn’t notice.” Steve grumbles.

“Okay, cool,” Eddie chews on his thumbnail. “Shit, what if she thinks it’s creepy? What if she thinks it’s the lamest thing ever? Fuck, what if-”

“Dude,” Steve closes his eyes and holds his hands out. “You’ve gotta stop.”

In the comfort of your home, you plop down in front of the VCR and open the case that holds the reels of this evening’s entertainment; a movie you’ve rented a few times before, but not enough that you could quote it. Instead of a hard plastic shell, your fingertips find wrinkled notebook paper. Your brows furrow as you inspect it, shredded pieces dangling from where it was yanked from the spiral binding.

You unfold it three times. 

In the aisles of the video store, I've found a treasure unsurpassed. Not on the shelves, but in your eyes, I fell so fast.

It’s a prank, whatever the fuck this is. 

Never in your life have you ever thought about Steve, like, at all. You’re aware of his reputation, that he apparently has the tendency to be douchey and arrogant. But the more you think about it, he’s nothing like that when you interact at Family Video. Maybe he’s not that judgmental and he sees past your midnight exterior. This note is stupidly genuine and endearing. Who would’ve thought he had it in him? Certainly not you.

That’s the thing, though. Steve isn’t your type and you’re certainly not his. But you can’t recall a time when he’s ever looked at you like you’re some kind of freak. Most guys do, that’s something you’ve grown used to over the years and learned to ignore. This poem basks him in a new light, and you’re not quite sure how to process it.

Like clockwork, you’re back again but this time your chest is thrumming. The note could’ve been a fluke or maybe it was meant for someone else, you’re not entirely sure. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be the intended recipient. Right now, it would be ideal to appear composed but you’re already wearing an unusual expression—a pleasant one—while you make your way to the drama section.

Tonight, it’s Robin and Eddie holding down the fort. As your combat boots scuff across the forest-colored carpet, Eddie can feel your arrival in his bones. He’s immediately seeking you out and when he locates you, he just about faints. Admiring from afar while manning the register, his mind races. Kissing is what’s on the curiosity menu tonight. Eddie wonders what flavor of toothpaste you prefer. If he could just get a little taste…

You meander your way around the shelving and through the dotting of customers. Eddie snaps his head in the opposite direction to avoid being caught staring. The sudden motion causes a pinch in his neck and he winces.

Lost in his own little world for a minute or two, Eddie’s attention is violently brought forward when you place a tape down in front of him. He buffers, noticing how you look subtly disappointed all of a sudden. He can’t imagine why, but he hates it with every cell in his body. Eddie fails to greet you and instead, he stares at your wine-painted fingernails as they tap the surface of the case.

“Is he not here?” You glance around with a lack of determination.

“Steve? Er, no. He called in sick,” He clears his throat harshly, all of the moisture drying up in his mouth by the millisecond.

“Oh, okay,” Over your other shoulder, you admire the new promotional display that was put out during the week.

Eddie seizes the opportunity to slip the second note into the case. His hands viscously tremble despite his best efforts to steady them. “Not to worry though, I can check you out way better than that walking hairdo,” Stop while you’re ahead, man. “Ring you up, I mean. I can ring you up better… than him.” Jesus fucking Christ.

“You’ve got quite the mane yourself,” A smile blooms as you look into the chocolate pools he has for irises. “I like your curls,” You can’t help but softly giggle at how bug-eyed he goes at your compliment.

“Uh, thanks,” Eddie bites back the cheek-splitter of a smile threatening to form. His trembling hands tingle unbearably from being able to make you laugh, despite not knowing what he did to earn it. He grabs a packet of M&Ms from the rack and slides it across the counter to you. “Here, free of charge.”

Your tightly sewn brow is accompanied by a slight pout. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense,” Eddie insists. “Everything’s on the house.”

“Is this some loyalty reward thing you guys do now?”

“Right on the money,” Eddie winks.

“Sweet,” you chirp. It’s as though your spirit has been replenished by saving a few bucks. “Do I get one of those little punch cards? I love those things.”

With the way your eyes are shimmering over a stupid piece of paper; Eddie would build you a house made of punch cards if that’s what you wanted. “Yeah,” he searches aimlessly. “But, uh, we haven’t gotten them yet.”

Your gaze finds his name tag and then returns to his flushed face. The corner of your mouth quirks as you notice the faint freckles dotted across his cheeks and nose. “Okay, well, thank you, Eddie.”

“No need to thank me, I should be thanking you! You’re a valued customer,” he exclaims. “My favorite of them all!”

“If you say so,” you exhale with amusement and turn to leave. “See you around.”

Eddie holds his palm open as a farewell gesture until you’re out of sight. He then brings his hand directly to his forehead in a ruthless smack. “You’re my favorite customer,” He mocks himself in a nasally voice.

With the press of a button, the register drawer launches open with a thunk. He nonchalantly retrieves his wallet, plucks out a five-dollar bill, and tucks it under the stainless steel clip to pay for your “free” movie and candy. Eddie finds Robin staring at him with a knowing look on her face. “Not a fucking word, Buckley. Not a word,” he glares, to which she throws her hands up in defense.

You couldn’t possibly wait until you got home to see if there would be another note. As you hop into the driver's seat of your car in the parking lot, you find an identical piece of folded paper. Your heart pitter-patters with the assumption that Eddie is in on it and he did Steve the favor of delivering this one for him.

With your illuminating smile, Baby Ghoul, you're the moonlight in my darkest night.

This note takes you by surprise for a different reason. It feels far more personal to be bestowed with the cutest goddamn nickname you’ve ever been given; ghouls are so metal. You obsessively reread it through the duration of your movie, while you brush your teeth, and as you lay in bed. You’re swooning over each messily penned letter, memorizing the spots where the ink drags and smudges.

It’s a bit difficult to imagine Steve saying this to you, but your insides are lurching at the thought. You hold the note to your chest and squeal.

The following visits are heavenly. Eddie loves seeing you bounce around on the balls of your feet like you’re on cloud nine. It’s becoming damn near impossible to fight the urge to smile because he knows that you’re looking forward to his imminent written affection.

Note after note, confidence simmers in his belly from seeing how the expression of his feelings is affecting you. To know that he’s the reason you’re glowing like this is turning his brain to pudding. Not tapioca, though. Ew.

With wide puppy dog eyes and a glossy lower lip, you present your past-due rental to Steve. He sucks his teeth, crosses his arms, and scolds you playfully. You successfully get out of paying the fee by simply batting your lashes at him.

Steve is eating this shit up. While you might not be his flavor of choice, he’s suddenly feeling open to sampling the femme fatale vibe. You’re beautiful, he wouldn’t waste his breath denying that. Not to mention, you’ve got a great sense of humor, considering you’re laughing at his awful jokes. That’s something he will admit—they’re bad.

Eddie doesn’t have to hear the conversation to know what’s unfolding. He feels like he’s gonna hurl when Steve leans down to shorten the distance between the two of you. He's supposed to be the middleman, not stealing Eddie’s thunder. In hindsight, there haven’t been any hints at his identity and Eddie’s been too chicken shit to give them to you except for the other day when he had no choice.

To put it simply, he’s torn. Eddie wants to scream that he’s your admirer, that he’s the one who dreams of you, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t possibly reveal that it isn’t dashing Harrington who’s pining for you, but instead, it’s the dork. That would be a world-crushing level of disappointment.

This deal turned out to be a massive ego boost for Steve. The conversation is easygoing and it quickly progresses past small talk. The best part is that you haven’t even mentioned the notes. You think he’s some poet when in reality, he doesn’t even have a clue of what they say. You’re smitten without him having to bend over backward to impress you. He’d be nuts not to take advantage of it.

During closing time, Eddie stomps around while collecting the flimsy trash bags full of receipts and candy wrappers. For the past hour, he’s been pondering ways to “take care” of Steve. Sadly, it would be tricky to avoid raising suspicion if he suddenly disappeared, but hey, a guy can dream.

After dishing the silent treatment all night, Eddie finally speaks up. “You think you’re pretty clever, huh?”

“What?” Steve briefly looks up from counting the cash drawer.

“Cut the crap. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Eddie drags a clunky vacuum out of the cramped utility closet and unwraps the lengthy cord.

“It’s not that serious. Look, it’s not my fault that she’s into me.”

“Is all that hairspray finally soaking into your brain? She’s not into you,” Eddie growls, throwing the canary-colored cord to the carpet. “She likes the person who’s writing to her. Last I checked, that’s me.”

“Yeah, but she thinks it’s me,” Steve shrugs. “She’s happy, I’m happy. I don’t see a problem here.”

“The problem is that you know how I feel about her,” Eddie retorts while staring daggers. “The shit you’re pulling is really fucking unfair.”

“Life’s not fair, buddy. It’s not like you’re gonna do anything about it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Eddie mutters, clenching his jaw as he turns around to plug in the vacuum.

“Will we?” Steve snickers. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.”

It’s Saturday night and Eddie’s praying to every conceivable higher power that you’ll be here. You don’t come to Wraith every weekend, but when you do show, he’s nothing short of a nervous wreck.

He peeks out from behind the velvety black curtain of the concrete stage. Eddie’s heart stops when he finds you in your usual booth. You look hot, so so hot. It’s already hard enough to perform in front of you but when you look like this? Oh, brother.

Every year, you look forward to coming here on Halloween. Your friends have gone all out with their costumes and the hours you spent getting ready were well worth it. The typical dark and dingy ambiance is heightened by the plastic skulls and bones strung from the ceiling. Your drinks emit wisps of dry ice fog and each table has a bowl of candy.

Seated at the end of the booth, your eyes drift from your drink to the floor. There you find a pair of dirty white Reeboks. Your gaze travels up the lanky figure shrouded in navy coveralls.

Eddie twists his ring around the base of his finger and the glide is effortless, thanks to the premature perspiration. “Hey.”

“Uh, hi,” your expression reflects a mix of hesitance and confusion, though you maintain a kind demeanor. “Eddie, right?”

“Yeah,” She remembered my name. Eddie motions to your getup. “I like your costume. Elvira, right?”

While you may not be sporting a ceiling-high black wig, your costume is unmistakable. “Right on the money,” you flash a pert grin, quoting him from the other day. “And you’re a…”

“Supposed to be Michael Meyers,” he clarifies, pulling a plastic knife from his oversized back pocket. “The mask was too hot to wear so, I guess I’m a killer repairman?” Max’s borrowed mask was indeed suffocating.

“Or a plumber who secretly dreams of being a professional chef,” you shrug, your irises glistening with humor.

Okay, so far so good. Talking to himself in the mirror for an hour is really paying off because he’s not a bumbling idiot for once. He could be imagining things, but it looks like you’re leaning closer. Maybe you’re just trying to hear him better over the music. He shouldn’t be overanalyzing your body language but it's the only thing keeping him vertical.

Eddie wants to prove Steve wrong but most of all, he wants to tell you how incredible you are. He’s not sure that you’ll want to talk to him after this. You might be hurt when you realize that you’ve been misled and he’s not the one you want. There’s only one way to find out.

The sound of his band getting set up beckons him. “Show time,” Eddie shakes jazz hands with the toy knife still in his grip. Of course, he just had to make it weird.

While he’s playing through the usual set with Corroded Coffin, you don’t pay them any mind, per usual. Their final song is a new one. Eddie may lack the confidence to confess, but he’s gonna sing this with all of the moxy he’s got.

In this world of shadows, what else is there to do

Wanna explore life’s cemetery with you

Your haunting beauty tells no lie

The one thing I cannot defy

The familiarity of the lyrics floods your head. You look up and find his dark, gleaming eyes locked onto you. Your heart leaps in your throat as he repeats the verses. Eddie leaves no room for uncertainty, confirming that the lyrics are pulled from the notes you’ve received. The tone of his voice is raw and passionate as he sends his affection across the room.

As soon as he steps off stage, you’re on a mission to find him. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to find you beaming at him. Eddie finally allows himself to do the same, all the while blushing with exhaustion and anticipation.

“Hey, again,” you stare down at your shoes and scuff them against the floor. “You sounded great up there.”

“Yeah?” he swallows hard. “You liked it?”

Your eyes snap back up to his. “All of it, every single word.”

“I’ve got like half a notebook’s worth of stuff like that,” Eddie chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Is that weird?”

“Far from it,” you tilt your head toward the bar. “I’d love to hear what else you’ve got to say.”

Eddie hovers his hand over the small of your back to guide you through the crowd. “I’ll sweet talk you until the sun comes up, Baby Ghoul. Anything for you.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

Consider reading From Bar to Billboard, I worked really fucking hard on it 🖤

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[spideyhexx]

i've been thinking about boss' daughter with billy where she does it specifically to get back at her father but billy is too in love with her to care (and hopes she'll actually fall in love with him too eventually)

omg that’s angsty but also really sweet too :(

like he was instantly head over heels for you the moment he saw you on the porch of the ranch house with your father.

Billy would do almost anything he could to be in your vicinity, even to just hear your voice as you talked to your mother or father. And he’d easily learn you hated him…and Billy wasn’t fond of him either but he stuck around because he got decent pay and well, you were there.

It would be hard not to miss Billy and the way people talk about Billy. Your father would always talk about how he’s an excellent shot, but there was a sense of jealously in his tone, jealous that this younger man has so much more talent in something, almost like it’s a threat.

So you saw that as the perfect opportunity to get back at your father. You seek Billy out when he’s working the ranch, talking to him more. Yes, your reasonings are selfish, but you find yourself enjoying his company. That he’s not as harsh as the other men around and he genuinely cares on your interests.

Billy sees right through it. He’s not dumb, he knows you put on more of a show of flirting when the other men who work the ranch might see. Hoping they’d mention it to your father and you’d play coy.

But Billy can’t bring it in himself to stop you from doing it. It feels too good to have your attention like this.

The one thing he draws the line at is the idea of kissing you. You’ve kissed his cheek and he’s kissed yours, kissed your knuckles and your hand but kissing your lips? He didn’t want that to be a show. To be something you faked.

So he always dodges any opportunity he has to kiss you/for you to kiss him. If you’re leaning close, or even insinuating it, he backtracks.

That is until one day you come out and ask him why he hasn’t kissed you yet, and he says, “Well, I wanna make sure you want it.” And he raises his brow.

Maybe you hadn’t even noticed he knew about your little game but now you do. He’s staring you down with a grin.

After that night, you start to forget your little game and fully focus on just being with him. No thoughts of your father. No worries that you’re in a barn alone with him, nobody can see and whisper gossip to your father. It’s just you and him, and after days or even weeks of that, is when Billy kisses you.

[alaskasmonsters]

Hi<3 congratulations to your milestone! 1k followers what a number!

I've really enjoyed your Gojo oneshot sooo much<33 it was the best thing I've read in a while tysm for posting it and blessing my timeline with it<3

As for the event... Can I maybe request one with Portgas d. Ace and the angst prompt "hold on... I never told you about that" ? Thank you so much for your work ily<3

𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖓…𝖎 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙��𝖆𝖙 (portgas d. ace)

pairing: portgas d. ace x gn!reader

content: (light) angst, misunderstandings, abandonment issues, hurt/comfort, alabasta ace, ace is insecure (illegal), vivi being mentioned (she’s my bbg <3), happy ending

a/n: thank you anon 🙏❤️ i’m happy to hear you enjoyed the gojo oneshot that much! 🥺🥺 i hope you enjoy this too! <333 it’s angsty but with a small dose of fluff in the end <33 and it turned out a little longer than it was supposed to <33 mwUAH! <333

☁️ 1k follower event

Ace was in a bad mood. He’s been so since the both of you had separated from his brother Luffy and his crew a few days ago. At first, you had thought it was because of that, knowing how much Ace loved his brother and how, if the situation was a different one, he would have probably liked to stick around longer. 

You’ve been wrong. 

It was not just that Ace was in a bad mood. He seemed more distant and cold towards you. He wasn’t mean or anything, it just seemed like he was… holding back. 

The two of you got along great usually, Ace was a little bit of a flirt so he was constantly seeking your closeness, making jokes and teasing you. If he wasn’t talking himself he liked to listen to you, usually with a soft smile on his face and an attentive look in his eyes, like everything you were talking about was the most interesting thing he’s ever heard.

Now he was barely even looking at you. 

You had no idea what happened but you kept quiet, hoping that his mood would just improve on its own or that he would open up to you of his own accord and tell you what was bothering him. 

So you waited. 

It wasn’t until a few days later that the topic came up because you finally had a lead on where Blackbeard was, after weeks of searching. 

You hoped this was enough to lighten his mood but his expression just seemed to sour when you told him about your findings with a big grin.

You expected Ace to lighten up, give a thumbs up and a wide grin, maybe pat you on the shoulder and say a few words of encouragement. But instead, he met you with a cold stare, one that made the blood freeze in your veins.

You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong but he didn’t let you. 

Instead, he clenched his jaw, and grumbled, “Let’s get this over with.”

Your face fell, grin fading completely and replaced by a twist of your lips. “What do you mean?” 

Ace turned his back to you and started packing his things together, probably wanting to get ready and going as soon as possible. “We’ll find Teach, I'll take care of him and then you’re finally rid of me.”

You gaped at him, mouth falling open in shock. “What? Ace, what the fuck?”

You felt confused and hurt he would even say something like that. Rid of him? What was that even supposed to mean?

Ace frowned, avoiding your eyes, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“We both know you only went with me because you promised Pops,” he told you, sounding like he struggled to keep his voice calm, “Don’t pretend.”

His words were like a slap to the face for you. For a moment you didn’t know what to say, almost losing yourself to the sinking feeling in your chest as your heart dropped to the pit in your stomach.

Did he really think that? Just because you made a promise to Whitebeard didn’t mean that…

You frowned, eyes darting over Ace’s face.

“Hold on…I never told you that,” you realized, “I never told you about the promise.”

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion, wondering how Ace even knew about this in the first place. 

Ace looked upset, disappointment and hurt flashing through his eyes as he turned to look at you again. You saw his lips jutting out in a scowl.

“Yeah, you’re right. You never told me that!” Ace bit out, clenching his jaw.

You took a step back, feeling tears gather behind your eyes at his harsh tone. 

“How would you…” Your eyes widened as realization dawned on you “Vivi told you.”

You remembered your conversation in Alabasta, how you’d opened up to her about your and Ace’s connection and the background of your travels. But why would she have gone up to Ace and told him what the two of you had talked about?

He must have seen the betrayal in your eyes because he let out a sigh. “Don’t blame her, she thought I knew.”

His face went back to looking upset, “Because why wouldn’t I? Why would you tell this to someone you just met but not me? I thought we-“

He stopped and looked away, never finishing his thought. Instead, he took a breath and said something else, “He made you promise.”

You blinked, the tears long forgotten as you caught a glance at his face. How hurt he looked. You didn’t understand what got him so upset, didn’t understand why he thought…

Did he think you wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for the promise? 

“Ace.”

He didn’t look up and with a groan you reached forward and clasped his wrist, tugging until he was forced to look at you. 

“You’re an idiot!” You yell, making him look at you with an angry look. You wanted to slap his arm for this but you just tightened your grip around his wrist. “I went with you because I wanted to. He made me promise to take care of you after I already told him I would go after you and he couldn’t stop me if he tried!” 

Ace looked taken aback by your words. He blinked down at you, disbelief still present in his gaze. 

“I want to be with you!” You continued, driving your point home.

Ace stared at you with wide eyes. And you froze. Realizing the meaning of your words you felt your entire face go red. That…no, not…

“I mean, I want to- You know, looking for Teach- Not like- We just…”

Ace’s laugh saved you from having to finish that sentence.

“You’re so red right now,” he teased, old grin back on his face as he turned his wrist in your grip and took your hand in his.

You huffed, feeling your panic die down.

“I’m with you, okay? You got that?” You asked, looking up at him with determination.

And Ace’s eyes held so much warmth and joy as he squeezed your fingers between his and told you, “Yes, you’re with me.”

[lookingfts]

Love the idea of Kate meeting and falling in love with Anthony while she's pregnant. There's something sweet about it. To make it even more angsty, the baby could be born a girl. While Kate (and Anthony) love her daughter, she knows that means it's her duty to get pregnant again, and that's kind of tragic for both her and Anthony.

Imagine Anthony's mental gymnastics hearing Fife talk about his mistress and disrespecting Kate while also being grateful Fife isn't seeking out Kate for sex.

(Also, we're all just gonna be waiting for Fife to take ill and die so Anthony and Kate can get married after her mourning period.)

Lol, I love that you guys take an angsty premise and are like WHAT IF IT WAS EVEN ANGSTIER?

But yes, I think Anthony would be absolutely enamored with her baby because he loves Kate and it's a part of her. He's so protective and always talking to her stomach and they both wish he was the father, even if it would hurt too much to say aloud.

I had a very similar idea about Anthony being in love and not being able to have her, and Fife has everything and doesn't even appreciate it, and Anthony hates him for that. But he also doesn't want Fife to suddenly be an attentive husband and touch her. He also spouts a lot of dirty talk about how Kate is the most desirable woman and Fife is a fool not to be in her bed every second of every day.

I think part of my issue is that Fife dying feels...cliche? I don't know, like it's the obvious out but it's hard for me to picture. I also tossed around another idea where Fife gets into trouble over gambling debts (a la Lord Featherington) and goes to Anthony for help. He disappears, and everyone believes that Fife was killed and his body disposed of, but it turns out that Anthony helped him fake his death and flee to the Americas, never to return. Allowing him to still marry Kate and raise her child. (He wouldn't keep that from her, obviously, but they would both fake it until people moved on from the scandal.)

[simply-trash5]

Mend What's Broken

Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

College AU

Word Count: 835

Synopsis: angst/fluff- reader and Tama have broken up and she sees him at a party with someone else...it gets better I promise.

TW: cursing if your worried about that kind of thing, drinking, uhh its kind of sad at parts and just angsty but yanno

This was a request in my inbox and I was so excited to write it so if you guys are interested in asking me for ANYTHING lemme know <3

You instantly felt the hair on the back of your neck raise when you saw the two of them together. Sure you two had broken up, and quite ugly most of your friends would say, but neither of you wanted it…or did he? 

The thoughts of the last time you had seen Tamaki ran through your mind as you saw him and his arm draped around another girl's shoulders. The bile rose in your throat almost instantly as you saw her tap the tip of his pointed ears sweetly much like you used to when you two were together; they were so…cozy on the couch of this frat party together as if it weren’t just you two on this same couch not a month ago. 

The raven haired boy had a light dusting of a blush on his pale cheeks, a clear indication that he had a decent buzz, but he could feel the daggers being thrown from someone’s eyes somewhere around the room. It wasn’t long until he found them…your eyes piercing through his and the random girl that had plopped down on the couch beside him around an hour ago. ‘Oh fuck…’ he thought to himself knowing exactly how this must look to you, but unfortunately it was too late as this girl was way too close for yours and his comfort. 

You swallowed thickly, willing the tears that began to form to go away and immediately wanted to seek revenge on him. He could move on right, why couldn’t you? 

Your thoughts wandered back to the last month of sobbing in your apartment into your pillow wanting nothing more than for your best friend to come back, because when Tamaki walked away he walked away from much more than a relationship. Tamaki walked away from the most unconditional love that he had ever known in his life and besides Mirio, his truest best friend. Night after night you would hold yourself to try and keep from falling apart, and now it was time for him to hurt like you had hurt. 

You stood along a wall and waited for the perfect moment to approach your prey: Kirishima. Kirishima and Tamaki were friends and spent time together at their off campus job, so this would be a perfect way to get the attention you wanted from Tamaki.

When you saw that Kirishima was standing alone, it was go time. You gave Tamaki a show. Batting your lashes at Kiri, playfully slapping his arm, leaning in entirely too close when he spoke; but the final straw was when you laid your head on his shoulder. To anyone else you probably seemed harmless, but to Tamaki he knew this was a direct attack at his psyche. 

Tamaki sprang from the couch where he was seated, stalking across the room to you quickly and grabbing you by the hand. You glared at him and snatched your hand away giving Kirishima a quick goodbye before dashing out of the front door of the crowded house with Tamaki on your heels. 

“What the hell was that?” Tamaki asked you chasing behind you, his long strides matching yours easily. You shook your head and snorted in a sickening laughter. Your eyes began to gloss over with tears as you whipped around to face him. “Oh fuck off Tamaki. You know good and well what that was. You come to a party with some girl like we weren’t ever together, so I am free to move on too,” you spat venomously trying to keep your voice calm. 

“You were out of line, that was Kirishima. Besides, I don’t know her…she came up and sat down.” Tamaki hissed as he leaned into your space. The tears you had been holding caused you to hiccup. “You don’t get to tell me what I can do anymore, you walked out on me remember?” you said coldly as you could feel the chills raise on your arms. 

He clenched his jaw and nodded his head. “Fine.” he said flatly and began to walk away. “Tamaki, there was life before you, there was life during you, but what am I supposed to do now?” You asked “You were my best friend, and every time I think I can move on I can’t. Did you love me or did I make this all up?” you asked again as the tears you were holding fell. You dropped your head not wanting to see him walk away from you again.

“Look at me…” Tamaki said as he grabbed your chin tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I loved you then. I love you now. I’ll always love you.” He cupped your face in his palms and gently wiped tears with his thumbs. “I know that a lot was said that can’t be taken back or changed, but can we work on tomorrow? Can we work on ourselves together?”

You nodded your head and closed your eyes feeling the edges of your broken heart begin to mend.

[backtothefanfiction]

Rain Grows | Aramis x Reader Imagine

Summary: sometimes we all just need a good cry.

Length: Short

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, depressed feelings

A/N: as usual at the moment, I’m feeling very emotional and angsty and need some hurt comfort from one of my boys. Tonight I chose Aramis.

It was like someone had blown out the candle inside you. The one that kept things running. Your spark. Your hope. Now- there was nothing.

You had always been known for your joy. Your bright smile. That small skip in your step. You had kind words for everyone. But now- now you just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.

The moment the candle went out, it was like a delay, the smoke making you hazy as you aimlessly wandered around the market in a daze. All the usual faces tried to say “hi” to you, but you couldn’t seem to say it back. You couldn’t even give them your usual toothy grin. Your new polite tight lipped smile became the hushed talk of the market- and it only made you feel worse.

When one of the older ladies finally asked you if you were okay, it made your heart ache. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know how to act. This had never happened to you before. Then suddenly his name was echoing around your hollow skull. Your knight in roughed up leathers. He always made your heart skip a beat and brought a smile to your lips and a blush to your cheeks. You just had to see Aramis and everything would be okay.

When you got to the garrison it was empty, most of the musketeers- the inseparables included- were all up at the palace and not due back for a while yet. So you decided to wait. And wait. And then wait some more.

Feeling hollow and empty, you sat yourself on the steps that lead up to the Captain’s office and you waited. Your fingers fiddled idly with your skirts, the rough fabric rubbing against your fingertips grounding you and giving you something to focus on as you waited for the time to pass. 20 minutes. Half an hour. 1 hour. 2. 3.

When it began to rain, you still didn’t move. The cold drops of early spring rain hit the back of your neck- your arms- droplets running down and soaking into your clothes. But you didn’t care. You barely noticed. You had completely checked out, that empty darkness seeping out and wrapping its tendrils around every fibre of your being. You were vaguely aware of the passing looks of the stable hands and a few passing musketeers, but you never looked, never paid them attention, just kept your focus on your one mission. Waiting for Aramis and not completely falling apart until he got here.

*****

“Ahhh, I do love the rain.” Aramis hummed to himself and smiled as he took his hat off and allowed the water to wash over him.

“He’s mad.” D’Artagnan muttered to Porthos and Athos as the four of them made their way back down the street towards the garrison.

Porthos chuckled, “Is that so?” He said to his friend, clapping him on the shoulder, “because I remember just last week you said you hated it.”

“Ahh yes, but that’s because it was still Winter then my friend.” Aramis said back, “Spring is here now. The birds are returning, the flowers are blooming,” his fingers reached to brush across the petals of a couple of blooming flowers in a window box they passed.

“And it’s not so cold.” Athos finished Aramis’ sentence for him, in his usual droll tone.

“Exactly!” Aramis smiled enthusiastically, sweeping his hat back onto his head.

“Afternoon boys.” A fellow Musketeer said as he made his way in the opposite direction, away from the garrison from where he had just come.

“Benoit.” They each greeted him, none of them intending to stop, until he did.

“Umm, Aramis, you should know, there’s a young woman waiting for you. Been there a while.”

“Does this lady have a name?” Athos asked.

“She didn’t say, was just asking after Aramis, but I think it’s that girl who works down at the tavern on-“

Aramis didn’t need Benoit to say which tavern, he already knew it was you. But you never visited him at work. You’d seek him out in the tavern- sure- but you never sought him out outside of your work. “How long has she been waiting?” He asked.

“I’d say just gone 3 hours.” Benoit replied before he began to start walking in the direction of his next destination again.

“3 hours?” Porthos said.

“In this weather?” D’Artagnan added.

“Shit, it must be really bad.” Porthos continued, a hint of amusement beginning to fill his voice as he prepared to make a joke and mock his closest friend, “Don’t tell me you got her knocked up?” He began to joke, but Aramis’s face had grown serious.

He ignored his friends as he began to pick up speed, his brisk walk turning into a light jog as he left them behind to run on ahead. You had been waiting for him for over three hours. Why? It had to have been important if you were willing to stay there and wait in the rain for him.

His pace slowed as he came through the gate to the garrison, your rain soaked body near frozen on the stairs as you looked down at your fingers. He found himself pulling his hat off of his head in respect. His steps towards you were slow and tentative, as if he were stalking an animal in the woods, not wishing to startle it, just get a better look. He suddenly froze mere feet away from you as Porthos’s booming and defensive voice grew closer to the gate, making you look up at him like a startled deer.

“Hey- hey…” he said in ever softer tones as if to soothe you and make sure you were okay, “it’s okay.” He said. You both looked away from each other to his brothers as they came into view of the gate, their hesitating eyes locking on the two of you and your more somber faces, each giving you both a silent nod of acknowledgment before passing by and making their way inside.

“You should come inside,” Aramis said, taking another gentle step closer to you, “dry off-“ but his words got trapped in his throat when your eyes met his. They were so scared. So worried. “What is it? What’s happened?” He asked, placing his foot up on the bottom step and leaning in to you, his fingers instinctively reaching out for your face. He forced you to keep your eyes on him. Silently reassured you that he saw your pain and had no intention of averting his eye or looking away.

You had no words. You thought the moment you saw him it would magically make things better, but it didn’t. You didn’t know what else to do now. You had waited in the rain all afternoon in the hopes that you would see his face and it would make everything okay. Now you were just wet. Empty and wet. Your chest sagged, heart breaking and suddenly the dam broke too. Tears filled your eyes and big chest wracking sobs burst free. Aramis quickly shucked off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. He then sat himself beside you on the step and wrapped you in his arms.

His embrace was comforting, the smell of his leather familiar. He kissed the top of your head as you just cried. Your tears mingled with the rain on your cheeks and after a few attempts of trying to brush them away for you, Aramis just gave up and held you tighter and continued to let you cry. “There, there,” he cooed softly as he slowly rocked you back and forth on the step, “let it all out.”

“I’m sorry.” Your broken voice said between sobs, but he wouldn’t accept it.

“Now, now, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” He said with another kiss to the top of your wet head.

After another few minutes wrapped up in his embrace, your sobs began to break. “There, there.” He continued to gently say, “it’s okay, I’ve got you,” he repeated, until your breathing was finally under control again and your tears ceased to fall anymore, the rain seaming to also grow lighter too.

As you pushed yourself up away from his chest, wiping at your face as you tried to meet his eyes, his own hands moving to replace your own to do the task for you, you slowly attempted to find your voice once more. “I’m sorry.” You said again. “I just-“ but you couldn’t find the words to explain what happened… because truly you didn’t know what happened, but with his presence, his kindness and warmth, the safety of his arms protecting you as you allowed yourself to shatter into a million pieces, it somehow eased the tension in your chest. You still felt a little bit empty, but now you felt lighter.

“It’s okay.” He said to you again as he smoothed back a sopping wet strand of your hair from your face. Already he could see the light in your eyes returning. He looked hesitantly down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. He’d wanted to kiss them for a while, the way you’d nibble on them and blush when you saw him and give him not your big smiles you gave to everyone else, but your smaller adorable, bashful and intimate ones. But now, knowing he meant so much to you that when you were hurting, he was the only one you’d share your vulnerability with, it made him want to kiss you even more. But now was not the time. Instead he decided to use his mouth instead to distract. “Do you know why I love the rain?” He asks you, his fingers reaching out to intertwine with your cold ones as he looks out towards the gates of the garrison.

“No.” You reply as you carefully watch his face from the side, the corners of his lips turning up as the dark clouds above began to pass and make way for a clearer skies.

“Because it washes away the old and makes everything clean, ready to start a fresh.” He says proudly, his chest puffing up slightly as he turns his head to share his grin with you and it makes the corners of your own mouth twitch, a faint ghost of a smile slowly gracing your features, observing his boy like wonder about the world.

“It also,” he continues, his thumb rubbing gently across the back of your hand, “brings life.” He smiles. “It waters the plants and helps the flowers to bloom and the crops to grow. There’s so much wonder in the rain. Everyone gets so caught up in it, you know. Their clothes get wet and the shoes get muddy. But it’s so much more than that. Plus,” he says, standing and pulling you up with him, “when it eventually passes and the sun begins to shine again, sometimes,” he says, pulling you into the centre of the garrison, his eyes moving in small searching flashes to the sky until they stop and he too stops, turning you in the right direction to see what he does, “you get to see truly rare beauty that no amount of money in the world could buy.”

His hands rest on your shoulders from behind and his finger points up to the sky- and there you see it, faint at first, but slowly growing stronger. A rainbow. It makes you smile. A full one this time too. You feel his body relax behind you at the sight of it and you can’t help but relax back into him again, your smile growing content.

“See, even the sky cries some times.” He says into your ear, and you can feel the smile on his lips with how close his mouth is to it.

“And maybe it sends rainbows to let us know it was a good cry.” You turn your head and smile at him.

He beams, a small breathy chuckle escaping his lips. With a warm twinkle in his eye, he kisses your temple in agreement. “Sometimes we all just need a good cry.” He confirms.

[f4iry-bell]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 6

pairing: jameson hawthorne x reader

summary:who would have guessed taking an unwanted picture of her could lead to that tense moment? more than that, who would have thought it would get his attention to make a deal? and guys like him drain a person inside out when are interested in you.

series taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @lyra-kane @bewitchingkisses @zenikswaffleshop @off-to-the-r4ces @jamcarven

permanent taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @cassie6392

warning: angsty!!!!

word count: 1.7k

a/n: guys, i actually completed a series wow!!?!?!? FINAL PART!! thank so much to everyone who read this<33 and I'm sorry 😈

part 5 | masterlist | series masterlist

Two weeks have gone since the gala, two weeks of utter Jameson Winchester Hawthorne type madness. One the first week she thought she could handle this, handle him, handle being something to him. But in the second week the pain just kept getting worse, everytime he reminded her that she's nothing more than a friend, everytime he gets too close like he's about to kiss her but withdraws, everytime he designs a game just for her, like she means something to him. It was hurting her a lot but she ignored it. Ignored the heavy pain that lingered in her chest, refusing to go.

“Come on, you know you want to.” Jameson tried to persuade her into riding a giant wheel. They were currently at an amusement park, they only came because of the famous rollercoaster that was there.

“I don't know, I was just in the rollercoaster. Plus, the giant wheel is well giant. Way too high.” She ate her chips from the packet of chips she was holding as they stood near the crowded wheel.

“There is no such thing as too high.” He stepped in front of her, then took one of her free hands that wasn't holding the packet of chips in his. An act he picked up recently, to take her hand in his and give a little squeeze.

It was like magic every time, everytime he touched her she would fall into his tricks. “Fine.”

After almost half an hour of waiting they managed to get in front of the queue for the wheel. Jameson’s hand was on the small of her back guiding her inside. They both took their seats opposite to each other and the door closed. Slowly they went up, and up.

Surprisingly it was not as scary as she thought it would be, though the sight of her hand squeezing Jameson’s as they went up told another story. Right when they were on the top, she looked down, and smiled. “It's so beautiful.”

“It is.” Jameson wasn't staring at the view, instead he was drowning himself in her smile. He tugged his hand, making her attention turn to him.

“I really want to kiss you right now. Although it would be super cliché.” He said, and meant it.

She hated it when he said something like this, knowing it would lead nowhere.

“Yeah, well. True. About the cliché part.” She shrugged.

He didn't miss her lips, instead he brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed the back of her palm. Her stomach was filled with butterflies as he did it, throughout he did not break eye contact.

Neither of them said anything until they got down. Jameson was the one who broke the silence but he spoke like he didn't just tell her that he wanted to kiss her, and gave a kiss on her hand. It was astonishing how he could switch like that. But it's just Jameson.

_

She couldn't believe her eyes, she was holding her now grades paper, she got a very low grade, something she has never gotten. It was completely her fault because of her lack of study time. It wasn't just this class, she was almost failing another one. And what's worse was that one of her professors had a private chat about it, it made her feel horrible.

She knew the cause of this. But she can't help seeking his company again. She doesn't really go to his place off campus often. But today she just needed his company, his presence, just him. However he would like to be with her, a friend, or more, or whatever he is willing to give.

She knocked on his door, she was expecting a familiar pair of green eyes but didn't find them when the door was opened. It was one of his stupid friends.

“Is Jameson here?” She asked.

“Yeah, inside.” He pointed at his room.

She walked in without knocking. “Jameson, I had a really bad day—”

She really should have knocked, if not for his privacy at least for the sake of her own heart.

She found him on the bed, clothed. With another girl on top of him, clothed. At least they were clothed.

She blinked twice before gathering herself together. “I- I'm sorry.”

She walked out immediately. She didn't expect him to follow her outside. He called out her name but she just kept walking further outside his apartment. But with his fortunate long legs he caught up with her, he gently grabbed her arm then turned her around.

“Are you okay? What happened? Tell me.” He asked, with worry in his eyes. Like she means something important to him. Like it hurted him to see her pain. She was hurting more now after what she just saw, but she has no claim over him.

“Nothing. I'll let you get back.” She tried to get out of his grip but it was firm, and held her close to him.

“No. You said you had a bad day. What happened?” He cupped her cheeks to which she reacted by pushing him away slightly, just enough to put some distance between them.

“I did not. You heard it wrong.”

“I did not.”

“How would you know? You were busy sucking that girl's face off.”

She didn't mean for it to come out this harsh.

“I noticed you as soon as you entered. I always do. You are the first person I look in the room, I always hear you.” He said it with such sincerity.

“Don't. Don't say things like that to me.”

“I mean it.”

“Then why would you kiss another girl?”Her face dropping, her eyes betraying her as they started to blur her sight with tears. She broke down.

“I thought we both knew we're better this way, I thought you knew. And you're okay with it.”

“No! I thought I was okay with it, being just something to you. But I can't anymore, okay? I'm failing my classes because I can't help but spend time with you. And what do I get in return? Nothing but hurting!” She wiped her tears with both hands.

“Please don't cry, not because of me. I can't give you more, okay? It's not fair.”

“How is it not? You won't even kiss me after telling me I'm special or something shit but go kiss a random girl. Am I not enough for you? Why?!” She was getting a bit aggressive with her tone. She was done with all of this.

“You are special but I cannot give you more, it's not fair to you to kiss you when I can't give you more. If I kiss you it'll get real, and I would have to take a step. Which I cannot.” He let it all out too. This is the most he has ever said about how he feels to her, because he knows where this is going.

“Cannot or will not?”

He looked down. “I'm not a relationship person, I'll screw up. I'm already screwing it up, and I'll drag you along. Hell, I already have, you're failing your classes because of me. I'm so sorry. Okay, I'll try not to make you bunk classes with me anymore.”

She looked at him baffled. “Anymore? Jameson, no! I can't do this.”

He swallowed hard. “I won't say things that I'm not supposed to say.” He tried negotiating. He can't lose her.

“Your presence is more than enough to stab my heart. I can't do this Jameson, not anymore. Because it hurts to be just something to you, I thought it would be worse to be nothing but no. Something to you is worse.”

“I don't want to lose you.” He took a step forward to which she immediately stepped back.

She looked down for a moment, and then spoke. “I want either all in or nothing. Tomorrow at 5pm, be there.” She needn't have to tell him where. He knows. “I'll wait for an hour. If you don't come I'll assume you want to do nothing with me. If you do…”

She just nodded, and then left before he could stop her.

_

She waited for one and a half an hour near their spot. She wanted to leave so badly, but something asked her to stay. It was false hope. She is going to end up hurting more. Everytime a car passed through she hoped it was him. But he never came.

Like a miracle, she thought of waiting for another two minutes. And just like that his car stopped in front of hers.

The weight was slowly lifting, hopes of them together were coming back, her heart beating faster than it should. But the look on his face said a different story.

“I didn't come here to make us exclusive.” He said, with his hands inside his pocket. The hope she held on dropped, and shattered like glass.

“Then why did you come?”

“To give you an explanation. Before we part ways, I want you to know that…I really like you. Hell, it could be even more than regular likeness. But I can't be the man for you, or for anyone. I'm a screw up. you don't deserve me—”

“Stop with the ‘it's not you, it's me’ I don't want that.”

“But it is true. I was never supposed to fall for you. I was never supposed to feel this strongly for you, it's selfish of me to feel this way, and it was selfish of me to say things that led you here. But you should know that I meant every single word. You deserve someone who is ready, who isn't messed up. Someone who could give you everything.”

“Funny, I only wanted whatever you had to offer. Even if it was so little.”

“Hate me for this, but don't think I ever lied to you.”

The silence passed, he slowly took his right hand out of his pocket, his hands into a fist. He stepped closer to her to reveal what's in his hand.

It was a small box. But she knows it's not just a regular box, it's a mini puzzle. Something is probably in it.

“Please take it. Please.” He was so raw.

She took it from him, her fingertips brushing his palm.

“I'm sorry.” He said. And meant it.

“Me too.”