#and ty for the ask! I totally agree with you!

[iamhereinthebg]

Haven't they broken several rules they've established just for everything to revolve around Tsukasa? Like...

1. A mystery can't be defeated in their own boundary (and yet Tsukasa somehow ripped Kako's heart out in his own boundary)

2. You can't use your tsueshiro in a boundary without permission (and yet Tsukasa ordered his to hold down Mirai)

3. Nobody could move because the school's time was frozen (yet Tsukasa did, as well as Yashiro, and Hanako who if I remember correctly suddenly unfroze on his own to break down into tears)

The earlier chapters were way better at following previously established rules and concepts compared to whatever's going on right now

They did ! :))) (want to explode)

I can understand the idea that Tsukasa is a rule breaker, he did destroy the previous n°3 in his own boundary too and it was an interesting twist! I can understand the idea and why it can be interesting, but the way AidaIro using all others characters/plots to make him stand out is just terrible. Dirsregarding rules is not a new thing about AidaIro unfortunately but Tsukasa really wins all medals on breaking them.

As you said, he was able to move when time was stopped and for which reason?? We don't know. Hanako was able to move once Akane and Teru got to him, probably because Akane is a clock keeper and can somehow give the permission to people to move.

I said it before and I will say it again, but wanting to show a character is powerful/cool by making the others characters look stupid is terrible writing, and that's the feeling I got with Tsukasa in general. (and chapter 109 is just a whole sequence of the characters being made fun of)

We don't know where to stand because he has every kind of tropes attached to him. They want us to understand he is some kind of martyr who is 'omg poor lil Tsukasa who was so selfless at only 4yo boohoo' (no matter which translation I read for the red house arc, he is believable somehow with Kou but then we get the flashbacks with Amane and it's gone). They put him in an 'angel' position and naive position in a lot of aus, want us so bad to understand deep down he is a nice boy. When we watched him do every possible horrors on screen. And don't get me wrong, I don't mind this, it's cool. Him forcing Mitsuba to eat, creating him, the way he treats some characters... It's the way they are not doing that to other characters who is so strange in my opinon. They know how to handle grey characters like Hanako or Teru (from the reader's pov) so I don't why they try so hard to put Tsukasa in a good light.

He is not a believable kid character in the red house arc, being smarter than Kou and Nene is not making him cool, it's just making Kou and Nene absolute idiots.

Him destroying his shackles thanks to Mirai power? It's not him being clever, it's Mirai and the clock keepers being made fun of. Him knowing what Hanako should be doing by using Nene? Not making Tsukasa cool, it's making Nene just as an object for Hanako's love, and to get a reaction out of him, most of the time by making Hanako look stupid. (I could go hours on why Nene is just here to serve as a mean to Hanako's character since some arc rather than being her own person but that's for another day)...

I understand that Tsukasa is like 'the antagonist and should be some steps ahead of the portagonist' but it's just so repitive in the way he is unpredicatble that it became boring and predictable. I was overjoyed to see him like this in chapter 108. (which was let's be honest the only good chapter in this new arc)

Tsukasa is really good here, which is why the drop of quality in chap 109 is even worst. Seeing a new side of him as a supernatural and his sorrow/hatred for Amane is really great. He even moralizes Nene about why sometimes you just need/have to get yourself out of situations alone, and that's how he himself proceeds because his brother never went to see him in 50 years. That he had no choice but to do so. It's great! Really great! To see that he is also an unpredicatble character and who decides to do what he wants not taking people's opinions in mind, because even his older never helped him when he called for him during all this time. It adds a good layer to his character and seeing him weaker/not really knowing what to do is something we desesperatly need for his chacter. But as everything in chap 108, chap 109 throws it out of the window and goes back to the usual ' we have set ups but terrible pay offs' things that has been happening a lot in the recent arcs.

He is also way too OP. As you said suddenly his tsueshiros could move again and he got rid of Kako. Even Hakubo and Teru being ones of the most powerful characters, were defeated once, Tsukasa never was seriously. It's never explained why he is so powerful (probably because he has an entity inside him/he eats others supernaturals) but the difference of levels is just insane, and absolutely not compelling to read.

We don't know why he is doing what he is doing and they try so hard to make him mysterious. They want us to get to know him without saying anything relevant or his backstory. We are left with whole chapters of absolutely nothing. Welp too bad I am not patient enough to see Tsukasa doing random stuff when half of the characters have rushed characters development or none because 'there isn't much time'.

AidaIro want us to understand they love him and that we should too but they are just destroying every other characters rather than make him loveable.

I hate what they did with his character, his role is terrible because it's destroying eveyone else's. Tsukasa is the favorite and it shows, but it's so badly done that I can't help but hate him.

[hypershocked]

After seeing an entire segment dedicated Ethan Kurt on the latest episode which didn’t even feature a Riptide fight, I’m honestly considering not tuning in to battlebots anymore after this season if team Riptide returns and they don’t clean up their act. Maybe that sounds dramatic, but It’s clear that Battlebots is milking the situation for more views instead of taking it seriously, and I think it’s going to backfire on them. I skip past or mute Riptide’s segments now, and if I was a competitor I wouldn’t come back after seeing other teams being treated like that and the risk of losing money on facing a team that is unsportsmanlike and happy to break the rules. I think heels/villains are fine so long as respect and sportsmanship between teams is preserved, but clearly that’s not the case here and I don’t care to see that and I’m honestly disappointed in the network for promoting it so hard. The fact that riptide didn’t face repercussions for breaking the rules, and worse that the show is allowing him to flaunt it uncritically, makes the whole thing look like a joke.

ok hi sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for a while because i've been out of the country and generally not on tumblr a ton recently

but agreed agreed agreed. i am SOO sick of riptide. and i honestly don't even care that much about what they're doing (breaking the rules or otherwise) but it's the way that the show handles it that really bothers me. there gets to be a point where it's obvious that they're just milking the whole situation for views and it's especially annoying when it gets brought up in episodes that riptide DOESNT EVEN FIGHT IN

i don't think i'd boycott the show entirely if this continues next season, but i definitely have to skip past the segments. i don't have the stomach or patience for them anymore

[atsu-i]

Holy shit you have a twin too?? I knew I felt connected to you for a reason lol. Shy mutual here btw. I think that its super awesome. Are you total opposites too? Everyone expects twins to be the same but besides my sister and I couldn't be anymore different lol

hi shy anon ^^

[luveline]

Hi Jade ! I loove your sunshine!readers, could I request one for Carmy ? Maybe someone calls her to get to the restaurant when hes feeling anxious to calm him down idk if thats good lol love ya !

ty for requesting <3 fem, 1.4k

Is it The Beef or The Bear? In your head, despite the wishes of everyone who works there (except for Ebra, who seems to have mixed opinions), you always call it The Beef. But the sign brags otherwise, and when you push open the doors, nothing inside is left to remind you of the old restaurant. It was a total gut. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” says a familiar, warm voice. 

You almost walk straight into her table, distracted looking for brown curls through the kitchen door’s little window. “Hey, Tina.” You grin at your second favourite chef. Your most favourite Sous. “You taking a break?” 

She offers you a round butter cookie from a sleeve of them. Her cup of coffee billows with steam. “Uh-huh.” 

“Hiding from a meltdown?” you ask, taking a cookie, fingers oily with butter, sugar grains falling to the floor. 

“It’s not like that,” she says. 

Well, what is it like? you think. 

Richie’s text wasn’t exactly descriptive. Need ur help with the little Bitch, he’d said. Then, when you didn’t answer, ASAP!!!!

You figured it must’ve been another rant. He’s prone to these… episodes of anger where he doesn’t realise he’s spinning out and hurting people who really care about him. You try to bring him out of it, but he’s a Berzatto. They’re all the same, sort of. Everything that’s wrong with them has been stamped into them a long, long time ago. 

He’s been better since Nat steel armed him into AA, but still. You tilt your head to one side, sugar cookie between your fingers, listening for the goings on in the kitchen. “Sydney’s here?” you ask. “I thought she was sick.” 

“Sydney gets sick, but she doesn’t take sick days,” Tina says with a loving shrug. 

You smile at her in brief goodbye for now and make your way to the kitchen, where you push in quietly. All their ‘Behind!’ and ‘Corner!’ and ‘Hands!’ makes you laugh, and you can’t take it seriously so you don’t, but you’re not trying to be dangerous in there either. 

“Hello?” you ask. 

Sydney and Richie look up from a cramped notebook at the table nearest to the door. There are employees you're unsure of prepping vegetables along the wall, but Carmy isn’t anywhere to be seen. 

“Fucking finally,” Richie says, before rubbing his face regretfully. “I’m sorry, it’s just– I texted you an hour ago, babe, you’re letting me down.” 

You laugh. “Sorry, babe,” you tease. “I have a job, just like you.” Your hands are cold where you tuck them under each armpit, crossing your arms. “Hi, Sydney. You feeling okay?” 

“No. He’s stressing me out.” 

“Which one?” 

“Both of them.” She looks like she might rub her face too. “I need him to be in here right now, he should be doing this, but he keeps walking away and– and not saying where he’s going.” 

“He is stressful,” you agree, though usually Carmy’s stress tends to bounce right off of you, “I’m gonna find him and strap him down for you.” 

Sydney just frowns. 

“I’ll see what’s up,” you say more seriously. “In the office?” 

“Out the back,” Richie says. “Smoking like his mother. He’s a fucking steam train lately.” 

It’s like they want to worry you. You give them grateful nods, sorry nods, and start to make your way out of the main kitchen, past the dishwashers and the dessert station to one of the back doors. Carmy isn’t your responsibility. You don’t have to apologise for him, you don’t have to mother him, he should commit to his responsibilities all on his own, but… it’s hard. You like apologising for him because his behaviour isn’t always on purpose, and he struggles with commitment for similar reasons. There’s this aching, stagnated grief in him that’s reawakening, there’s the stress of the restaurant, his business, the scars of the last ten years, and before that. You know it isn’t your job to come here and make him feel better, but isn’t it? When you love someone, it’s half the deal. 

Carmy shouldn’t yell at his friends, or employees. He shouldn’t chain smoke, and he shouldn’t be sitting on the low wall by the dumpsters shaking so hard with his head so low that you can see the first notch of his spine in his shirt. 

“Carmy?” you ask. 

His head ducks further down. You can hear him breathing, not too hard as to alarm you, and yet unrelaxed. 

You smile without thinking. You hate seeing him like this, but looking after him is a pleasure. “Hey, Carmen. Can I sit with you?” 

He forces his face up. “What are you doing here?” he asks. 

Trying to make sure he doesn’t tear another chunk out of Richie. “It’s my lunch break.” 

You perch on the wall beside him and snap your nearly forgotten cookie into two pieces, one side bigger than the other, which you offer him. 

Carmy takes it. Looks at it without expression, though that slowly turns to a dry ire you’ve felt directed your way a hundred times. “What the fuck is this?” 

“Cookie.” 

“I don’t want this.” 

“Could you just eat it?” You put your own half in your mouth in its entirety, all aligned to your teeth. It shatters into sweet, soft crumbs between your teeth. You talk with a hand over your mouth, “It’s not gonna kill you.” 

Carmy looks at it for a long time before he eats it. 

You watch him. He’s more tan than you’d think, that Italian gene kicking in, skin clinging to whatever sunshine it finds. He spends enough time inside that you’re surprised it can muster the energy. He looks better with it though, his curls look gold toned under the sun, and his clenched jaw doesn’t seem so harsh. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask eventually. Almost conversationally. 

“Nothing.” His hand shakes on his thigh. He turns his palm down to clasp his knee. 

“You sure?” 

“No.” 

“That one’s my favourite.” 

“What?” 

You poke toward a tattoo on his hand. It’s a simple flower, same style as most of his tattoos. “I like it ‘cos it’s just a flower.” 

“My least pretentious,” he guesses. 

“Something like that.” 

He tips his head back. 

“Richie texted me. He thinks I’m gonna… like, I’m gonna calm you down, I guess.” 

“You always do,” he says. 

You give him a long, smiley look. “So you’re in love with me?” you ask warmly, pushing up into a knee to wrap your arm behind him, hugging him before he can move away. “You’re totally fucked for me, Berzatto, that’s fucking crazy.” 

“Fuck off,” he laughs. 

You rub his arm, his skin hot in your hold. He touches your waist very, very lightly. “What am I supposed to do, anyway? I can’t cook. You and Syd are on your own.” 

“You already… already did enough.” He grabs your waist where you wobble on the brick wall, grit biting your knees, his hand comparatively soft. 

“Such a crush on me,” you tease in a whisper, his hair crushed under your cheek. 

You’re tempted to kiss his temple, but affection with Carmy is like oil and water sometimes. You give him a last protective squeeze and sit yourself down again. 

“Carm,” you say, “you know you can call me, right? Like, if you don’t feel okay.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” 

“Or text me. If that’s easier. It’s hard to say hard things out loud.” 

He laughs again. “Sorry.” 

“I know, I don’t– I don’t seem like I know what you’re talking about, I get it, but I do understand. N’ even if I didn’t, I don’t mind listening. Or laughing at you.” 

“What’s that about?” 

“The laughing?” you ask. “You tell me.” 

His hand slides behind your back in half a hug. “Guess it’s funny.” 

“Can I change my mind about the tattoo?” 

“The flowers not your favourite?” 

“No. You know which one I like best?” 

His thumb rubs into your back. “The snail.” 

“Absolutely the snail. You’re so fucking silly sometimes, I’m supposed to take you seriously when you’re yelling and red in the face with a snail on your arm?” 

You can’t see his face with your cheek to his shoulder, won’t know that he’s smiling at you with a rare aura of peace. Can’t see the wanting, either. 

[pshaven]

can i request your take on enhypen and no nut november 😁😁

yes yes yes and YES!!! ty for this anon i had fun writing this hehe

cw! somno in hee and jay, dry humping in hee’s, hinting of oral (f!receiving) in jay and hoon, jake is a weak man, lmk if i missed anything!!

이희승 heeseung ᥫ᭡

5 days

swears he’ll win over the rest of the members when they propose the challenge to him. he tells you right away when he gets home because he can’t risk the chance of you putting your “seducing powers” to work (he’s really just a weak man for you), and of course you support him! you’ll support your man in anything, so you put on your pajamas that cover every inch of your skin to bed. it really does work… for two nights. you realize heeseung becomes a bit restless at night before he actually falls asleep on the third night but you think that maybe he’s just a bit antsy for practice since they’re learning a new choreography.

for the next two mornings, you catch heeseung slightly rubbing against your back and the swell of your ass in his sleep, and you giggle to yourself and decide to indulge him a bit until he wakes up and calls you a “demon” for trying to tempt him when he was the one who started it. day five comes by, and when you wake up, he’s not only just slightly rubbing against you– he’s desperately humping and whimpering into your neck. “a-are you awake? ‘m sorry… i can’t wait anymore…” he whines, the hands that are already on your waist tighten its grip. safe to say the boys teased him until the next year.

박종성 jay ᥫ᭡

entire month

he rolls his eyes at the mention of the challenge, he thinks it’s stupid and even tells the members that he’s not participating in it. until you bring it up to him, saying that you actually want to see how long he can last and at first he refuses but then he thinks of the possibility of you becoming desperate and begging for him to fuck you into the mattress– “okay, fine. i’ll play along,” he agrees after your restless asking. he actually finds this situation quite hilarious; you’re even trying to tempt him, dressing in his favorite outfits that he loves on you that compliments your body just right, bending down to let him get a good view of his favorite colored panties, but despite all that– he doesn’t budge.

you’re practically pawing at his chest by november 29th, whispering dirty nothings but he’s like an unstoppable force. you whine that it’s “not fair!!” when he still does not give in, even trying the puppy eyes and the pout but jay pays you no mind. that is, until the morning of december 1st and he’s in between your thighs, knuckle softly nudging your clit through your panties. the next thing you know, he really does fuck you into the mattress with slow and deep strokes, making you promise to never prompt this challenge to him again for the next following years.

심재윤 jake ᥫ᭡

eight hours

he literally scoffs when the members bring up nnn. as if he would ever lose! it’s in his competitive nature, he can and will win, and he doesn’t take it lightly when sunghoon teases him about how jake would totally lose on the first day. you know something’s off when jake comes over to yours that night after practice, he has that fierce look in his eyes that you normally only see when they’re about to perform onstage. “you good?” you ask, frowning with concern but jake only gives you a nod of acknowledgement before he goes off into your bedroom to sleep. he figures the best way to win this challenge was to completely ignore you because, well let’s just be honest— he would lose within the first hour he got home.

you climb into bed with him, hand on his shoulder as you shake him gently in case he was already asleep (he’s definitely not). “jakeeee,” you drag out in a whine, knowing that he’s ignoring you now because his breathing isn’t as deep if he were actually asleep. you pout when he continues to ignore you, so you decide the only way to grab his attention is to straddle him, ass meeting his crotch area and his hands immediately fly to your waist. yeah… he texted the groupchat with embarrassment the next morning.

박성훈 sunghoon ᥫ᭡

one day

he thinks its sooo funny, especially seeing jake all fired up after he challenges the members to do nnn. with harmless taunts of “you won’t even last a day” or “i bet twenty that jake can’t go past twenty four hours!” his only goal in mind was to beat jake (because he already knew jay would be able to go for the whole month if he really wanted to, and heeseung is too unreadable). “don’t even try anything with me tonight,” sunghoon warns as he walks through the front door, catching you off guard when you jump at his sudden voice. not even a hello— but at this point you’re used to his weird antics anyway.

“i guess we’ll talk tomorrow morning,” you grumble as you climb into bed with him, his back facing you (which is very rare. he’s a big cuddler). the next morning, sunghoon’s up and early scrolling on his phone still in bed, until he gets the notification from jake; lost. dpmo hoon. a grin is appearing on the boy’s face, but he decides he’ll tease jake later. for now, he’ll work on making it up to you in between your thighs for hours with mumbled apologies for his attitude last night<3. he later texts in the groupchat: thx for losing so fast jake. sunghoon knows well that he wouldn’t be able to last past a week with you, so he’s grateful for jake’s weak resolve.

[mercif4l]

𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 — kmg

MDNI, this blog is for 18+ users only. blank blogs will be blocked.

pairing: afab!reader x kim mingyu

word count: 3.5k

summary: sometimes it's hard to say what you want. sometimes, mingyu is just being insufferably coy.

content warning: more smut, slight angst, boyfriend!mingyu, nudity, explicit sexual acts (dirty talk, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex), discussions about contraception, dacryphilia(?), dom/sub dynamics, slight degradation, pet names, sub!mingyu is losing his mind

a/n: hugely inspired by @highvern who made my soul sparkle when i read the 'teach me' series and then had to get all my feelings out in a self-indulgent gyu fic. ty once again to @beomcoups and @wonuwoe for being my champions <3 and for your patience! hope this is even a little bit as special for you to read as it was for me to write ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Broad, brawny, strapping young idol, Kim Mingyu. The very image of a gym rat, filling every space he enters twice the size of everyone else; A true BFG. 

And a total mess beneath your gaze as you ride his fingers without rest, legs bucking you up every time he presses against your g-spot and sends stars flying up your body and out through your mouth. 

Mingyu has always admired (envied, resented, adored) your self control. It makes him feel like a horny loser for never lasting as long as you do, and eternally grateful that he can stay hard after cumming just to feel you palpitate around him with your quiet, quivering sighs, launching him into another orgasm even more devastating than the last. 

When you’d first got together and had the sex safety talk, you told him he could ‘just pull out’, and in that moment he’d felt relatively confident about his abilities. But then he’d felt you, and tasted you, and before you could even get your panties off, he was leaking more precum than felt humanly possible.

You’d agreed to take birth control to curb his crippling fear of coming inside unexpectedly. And for your own peace of mind. Which seemed easier settled than his, frighteningly resigned to the side effects that birth control might bring — a concern he wouldn’t let you neglect, encouraging you to attend regular check ups every other month. 

Eventually you told him that while it was endearing he cared so much, it could feel a little overbearing from time to time. It still took a boat load of convincing to get him on board with the pill. You’d said you knew the risks, and while it was unfair there was no male equivalent, you’d shown no abnormal reaction to the pill and were an adult; you knew well enough how to take care of yourself. How you cared a whole lot about your body, and his misled doting could border on condescension if he wasn’t careful. 

(He’d put on a brave face for your conversation, never wanting to make it about himself, then cried to his mom on the phone later that day about how selfish he’d been. She told him to get over it and to try being a woman.) 

Perhaps if he was a woman he’d be in less pain right now. Watching you wind down over a glass of wine like he wasn’t sulking up a fit, his cock so hard that it crooned against his boxers. 

Despite his size and laid-back demeanor, he’s always been a bit bashful. Blushing at the slightest pinch of attention and covering his face with his jersey over some good-natured teasing. It was too bad he’d made himself such an easy target over the years. Any attempt to become non-chalant was at odds with every preexisting relationship in his life and was imminently met with even more teasing. 

Still, no one makes him feel as embarrassed as you do. It’s like a sick cycle. You peek one second too long at his lips and his ears turn pink, making you grin, filling his chest with a familiar ache and making his dick purr.

“Excited, Gyu?” you’d asked him just an hour ago, sat squished together on the lounge loveseat. Your hand poised on his thigh as he tried not to salivate over your compliments. You’d just been doting on him over his latest interview, head heavy with giggles as you rolled around and gushed about your ‘gorgeous boyfriend’ . You’d been particularly tickled by the discussion of ‘Men in their 20s’, Mingyu’s input being as loathing as you’d expect. Once you’d had your fun imitating his exasperated response, you pet his hair like he was a well-trained dog and scratched under his chin for good measure. 

That’s where this particular spiral started. 

The bristle of your nails against the hollow of his jaw left him struggling not to pant. It hadn’t been two days since you’d last touched him, and already he was feeling a little lightheaded. This didn’t stop him from tucking his tail between his legs and pretending to be a good, placid, boy. Eyes all round and twinkling like a deer in headlights; mouth agape as he tries to say that dinner is in the fridge and he’d happily heat it up for you as soon as you’d—

Then, you’d raked those same hands over his neck. And like a never-before-touched-40-year-old-virgin, he let out a pornographic whimper, curling into you with legs spread just wide enough to display the stiff beneath his shorts.

“My puppy, what’s wrong?” 

Instead of answering, he purses his lips and takes a few short, constricted breaths. Closing his eyes as if he can will this whole situation away (or to a head) by pretending it doesn’t exist.

“Can’t help you if you won’t talk to me, Gyu.” 

It was his least practiced skill: just fucking saying what he wants. He’s always too caught up in how turned on you make him or how vulnerable he feels. How deeply he enjoys the way you look at him with the eyes of a predator, and how hot he gets at the thought of being your prey.

“Gyu. Slow down.” For a man with the body mass Mingyu possesses, he’s always had a lack of spatial awareness. Bumping into the kitchen island every other morning; bonking heads in the elevator when he tries to give you a forehead kiss; generally not noticing injuries until he’s flexing in the bathroom mirror and a large bruise has appeared where once there was nothing.

His sex drive was no exception. He grinds against the cotton of his trousers without a single thought, even now as you lay your hand heavy against his throat and mock him for it.

“Such a desperate little puppy, can’t even breathe, humping yourself like a bitch in heat.”

With his airways partially blocked and his eyes squeezed shut, this friction feels almost as good as your hand might. 

“Stop.” This time, the instruction is clear, the heel of your palm digging into his hip bone and forcing him to sit still. He trembles like an injured animal and you don’t hide your snort; the sound is like a bitter spirit left on his salivary glands and it only makes him more liquid in your arms.

“Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll help you, bug.”

“M��sorry, can’t…” 

“Gyu.” It’s a firm warning and still he bites his tongue in resistance:

“I— Fuck… ngh, can’t, I can’t—“

Working himself up over something as simple as wanting to be touched… Well, it makes you wonder if he enjoys being punished. Tears already trail down his temples, thick and heavy as they fall into his damp hair, and every time you lick at the salty water he bucks up into nothing again.

There’s only one way this is going to end. At this rate, with how you’re repeating his favorite nickname in the arch of his ear, the idea of playing nonchalant seems hilarious. How could he ever stay quiet or, god forbid, composed with you around?

It wasn’t always this way, mind you. Communication was a huge part of your relationship. Of course that included acknowledging anything that made you feel ashamed or unattractive. Physical, taboo, emotional: when one of you got shy, you were given a week of grace to iron things out, then you’d have to face the music and let the other in. It didn’t matter how. Actually, there were an infinite amount of ways to sort things out and you were both sticklers for likelihoods and probabilities.

But after six months, Mingyu still couldn’t verbalize his needs. The two ways he’d express himself were whimpering at inopportune moments or folding his legs extra tight until you got the idea. Initially, it was endearing; even after all this time, it’s still sweet and adorable (and a little bit of a turn-on). It sure gave you ample ground to assert your dominance over him. It also gave you a lot to tease him about after the fact. But in some ways, it suffocated you. In some ways, it made you feel gross for controlling the narrative. 

“Actually,” you reckon with a tone so disinterested he isn’t sure how to recognize it as your voice: “I don’t feel like this right now.” 

Then you cross your legs and shuffle across the couch, plucking your phone from the coffee table to retreat inside of it. You’re sure there was an abandoned webtoon chapter to keep you distracted. Anything to quell the bile rising in your throat. 

Before he has a moment to recognize how blue his balls are, Mingyu makes the most sorrowful sound you’ve ever heard. Your head whips around, and what you find is devastating: the big lug has his knees tucked to his chest with his hands squishing against his cheeks. His pearly teeth are gnashed together but barely visible behind his forearm as his shoulders shudder, up and down, up and down.

“Please, please, don’t stop… touching, me, need… Please don’t stop, want you— can you?” and when his begging ends in a whisper of your name, your resolve snaps. You slide onto the ground, hands weaseling between his knees as you look up at him through bleary eyes of your own. 

“Gyu?”

“no, no, I’m sorry, I know. Know I’m the worst — so stupid,”

While you expect him to react poorly, this was not the way you’d wanted it to go. The tears that leave his eyes aren’t pleasant or cathartic-they’re crushing. The weight of his sobs makes him look so so small, and his shoulders twitch at your slightest touch, and now you feel even sicker. But you hold it in, knowing that there’s no way he’ll calm down without a steady hand guiding him.

“Mingyu, breathe baby. Breathe. Let’s just try to breathe together.” 

It only takes a few rounds of counting in squares to wind him down, after which he wipes his tears roughly and clears his throat. 

“Sorry for—“ 

“It’s okay to cry. I’m sorry for overwhelming you. And stopping so suddenly.” A small point of contact between you remains at the apex of his ankle and the soft of your hand. It’s not enough but it’s the only thing that reminds him to breathe. 

“I know—know it’s okay to cry.” 

You snuffle a giggle at his pouty response; “I know you know it’s okay to cry. But sometimes we don’t feel that way, y’know.” 

God. You’re so stupidly smart. So patient with him. God, he’s in love with you. And he’s such a mess.

“Of course… Of course I want to say it,” he tries to avoid your gaze but the fingers now pressing on his calf won’t let him. 

“Want to tell you what I want. But I’m really.. I’m so scared. Scared and not really of you, even though it’s kind of hot when I am, but something about it feels… wrong?” 

You listen without interrupting him or egging him on, chuckling when it seems appropriate and nodding as he trips over his words in worry.

“Like I’m… being like, I dunno, I’m not being the man? Or… something.

His hesitation is filled with sniffles against the overpriced hoodie he’d purchased just a week before. He’ll curse himself out for that later, undoubtably. Good thing he has the knack for a good hand wash.

—But I want to… I wanna try. Can I try?” 

“Now?”

“Mm… want you now.” 

Hearing it from his mouth for the first time in so long sends a bright red flush all over you. Your head dips low as a coy grin replaces that wrinkle between your brows you’d been keeping warm. Mingyu settles his focus on your face to avoid any more distractions. The demure purse of your lips is more than enough to encourage him to continue. Even if he stutters in anticipation a bit along the way.

“So beautiful. I, I love your smile, makes me feel so warm and…weird? Good weird, just like I wanna kiss you all the time. And look at you smiling. And at the same time, smiling at me, and I love it when I feel your tongue on mine, fuck, when I feel your tongue at all” 

His words flow freely as you stretch your legs over his and settle in his lap. His hands move in even strokes down your sides and arms and thighs, gently cupping your face as he admires you. Well, it certainly seems like he’s getting the hang of it. 

“S’all I can think about when I get sweaty… So weird, but I get sweaty and I imagine you licking it off me, shit, look at how pretty you are, shit, shit,”

As he hears himself, he suddenly feels like he could wax poetic for hours (or ramble, whatever this was). If it meant making you look as pleased as you do right now, he’d happily make a living out of it. 

“Can I touch you? So beautiful, wanna feel ya…” The drawl of his accent gets thicker as he rambles on.

“You sure, puppy?” After all that emotional exhaustion it feels a bit strange to be so intimate. The last thing you want is for him to smother his feelings with sex. But then you see the conviction in his flared nostrils and set lips; the very face he makes when you’ve had a bad day and insist everything is fine. When all he ever wants is an excuse to shower you with his love. 

“Yes. F’you’ll let me?” And when he asks so nicely, who are you to deny him?

There’s a slight back and forth as he tries to unbutton your jeans as fast as possible and it all goes so quickly you don’t really register how awkward it is, wiggling out of them in his lap on the couch. But Mingyu’s athleticism never fails him, especially in moments like these. 

The foray over your sticky panties has him searching maniacally for some purchase beneath you. He rubs and pulls and taps until you’re canting into his knuckles sporadically. By the time he’s pulled them to the side and gathers your wetness in his grip, he might be the hardest he’s ever been. 

“God, gonna, wanna make you cum—can I please? Show you?” 

It’s your turn now to be silent, nodding profusely into his cheek as you nibble at his earlobe. There’s one sentiment you refuse to voice in this moment, as the pad of his thumb zeroes in on your clit and drags it in circles: that you’re cooked. You’ve never been this wet in your life, and if you had an ounce of self-awareness left in you, you’d shudder at the slick mess you’ve made. Or the blown out pupils lolling to the back of your head. Or the saliva that drools down your chin in excess and slings onto his. 

But Mingyu is no better: if you weren’t sitting atop him, a dangerous puddle of his own precum would be proudly on display. Somehow the thought turns him on even more. 

“Could come like this, in my pants, nnghh, but I wanna, wanna do it while you ride my fingers, can you…” 

“Fuck! Gyu, just gimme—“ The sentence dies before its finish as he takes your excited exclamation and sprints. The longest of his four fingers push into your hole to fit snugly against your walls, pulsing against him like they’re welcoming him home. 

“Love feeling you on me, my fingers, my—nngh, my cock, made for me, made for you” It comes out a sadistic whine while he bullies them into you with that same doe eyed look.

“Got so much to do, wanna do, wanna make—“

“Gyu, s’good. So good. All mine.”

“Yours. All yours, f’you’ll have me? Have me?”

The words circulate from your empty head straight to your core and you swear, you could cry. He keeps pleading for you to��have him and take him and the fever of it all overwhelms you.

In the fissure between the pit of your stomach and where all this untenable excitement likes to linger, something weird begins to coil. Heating so rapidly that you have no time to warn him of it. One moment you’re there, and then next, you’re not; You’re somewhere where there’s color as far as the eye can see, and all you can feel is bliss. Once you do manage to open your eyes, you notice the pool of liquid that now sticks his tank top and pants to his lower belly and thighs. 

Well, shit. You just squirted. And in record time, Mingyu might add. Was this all he had to do to get you riled up? Just divulge his every wet dream and watch you crumble beneath (or atop) him?  

You don’t even double take his soaked white shirt, now stuck to his abdomen with slick, or the dampened the seat of his pants that leave very little to the imagination. You’re wasted with the whiplash of everything that has just happened and truthfully, you couldn’t care less. 

The only thing that brings reality back to your conscience is the continuing buck of his hips.

“My baby, did so good. You wanna cum?” 

“Yes!” He’s squeaking at this point, a pile of incoherent pet names and wet moans. He could probably come in his pants if you hadn’t suggested otherwise, just happy to be in close proximity to you like this: Soaking his clothes and skin and all sweaty all over him. 

Mingyu is so distracted by the image that he barely notices the sticky feelings of his trousers being pulled off. 

“Hands are shaking, m’sorry, your hands—“ 

“I know Gyu. It’s okay.”

There’s no space for him to hold you til you’re steady—his primary concern—with your entrance fluttering over him, still reeling from your orgasm. An ache he didn’t even realize was there is relieved the moment you stretch around him. Welcoming him home. He really could die happy like this: admiring the curve of your chin from below and so, so warm. The image of you, anchoring yourself on his shoulders and hips settled between his, is one he’ll be haunted by forever. 

“Go.” You say it with the last of your energy and a firm bite to his neck. 

He doesn’t need any further instruction; he’s so fucking glad you’ll still tell him what to do. 

The rhythm he sets is animalistic. Heaving and whining and fucking up into you with more force than you’d expected him to be capable of. Something feral takes over your boyfriend and you wish you had the energy to watch it. Maybe you’ll just have to do this all again with a camera filming. God, that would drive him absolutely insane.

With the pace and how worked up he’s become, it’s no surprise when he pulls out a few minutes later to come. Strong arms yank you down and suddenly you’re sat on top of his cock, grinding it against his stomach with his direction.

“Coming, I’m, nnngh fuck!” Mingyu’s voice rises about two octaves as he finishes in white all over his belly. It spurts out long enough for you to feel the aftershocks. In his shivering thighs, in his clenched abs, and the overstimulated cries that catch in his throat.

It may take a long time to recover, but you’re grateful for the break. When Mingyu stands from the couch with you in his arms, you already know he’s taking you to the shower. He strips you as carefully as he can muster and grimaces at the messes made of you both in the harsh overhead light. 

“You shower first.” It’s the first thing you’ve said in a while and he seems bewildered; not just by your wary voice, but by the idea of taking care of himself before taking care of you. So cute, you think. But you refuse to let up. You take a towel from the heated rack and gather all of your clothes in it, holding the sack out as if to say ‘add it to the pile’. Once he’s naked you shove him gently towards the running water and drag yourself out to the laundry room. It only takes a few seconds before you hear those long feet shuffling behind you. 

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll be right back.” 

A silence lingers and you know full well he hasn’t turned back just yet. Alright. You’ll coax him through this part. 

“I’ll shower with you. Just make sure it’s warm for me?” He giggles at that. All it takes is making something a task for Mingyu to thrust himself into it, full force. The retreating footfall that follows is more than enough to make you smile. And laugh, just a bit. 

“Thank you, Gyu.” 

“Anything for you.”

penned by rowan. in reference to this interview among other things.

[niningtori]

cruel intentions | part two

part one

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: in the wake following the revelation that your boyfriend, beomgyu, only dated you for a bet in order to get his rent paid, you're actually doing pretty well. on beomgyu's end? he can't say the same.

genre: romance, angst, melodrama, fluff

warnings: clichés everywhere

word count: 3.8k

notes: she's here! i fear that this might be super corny and somewhat abrupt but that's fine i think!

beomgyu is not okay. he really, really isn’t. how could anyone expect anything other than that? it’s been a year since he saw you last, but he’s starting to believe that whoever said time heals all wounds was just blowing smoke up his ass. if anything, the longer he’s spent away from you, the worse his heart aches. that’s natural, he supposes, because you’re definitely the one that got away, and the fact that he drove you to leave only twists the knife. he wishes he could go back to the day he agreed to that stupid fucking bet and wring his own neck — maybe that'd talk some sense into his old self. but like you said all that time ago, he can’t. he even wishes he could go back to the first day of freshman year just so he could meet you sooner. that way, he could have been in your life and alleviated some of the stress and pain you always felt. but, and he cannot stress this enough, he can’t.

you may have blocked him on everything he can think of, but that doesn’t stop him from asking about you. luckily, taehyun made good on his intentions to get to know you better before realizing that you were the girl beomgyu had secretly been dating for months. as a good friend, taehyun declared you as totally off-limits, but that didn’t stop your all’s friendship from blossoming. as it is, your friendship with taehyun is only rivaled by your friendship with chaeyoung — a fact that she is all too aware of.

“when are you gonna stop beating around the bush and just get with him already?” she pouts.

“never,” you snort. “i told you, we’re friends and nothing else.”

“i know, i know, but i think he’d be good for you,” she insists.

“you’re only saying that ‘cause you’re worried he’ll replace you as my best friend, which he won’t, by the way,” you tease.

“you caught me,” she says playfully. 

truthfully, your friendship with chaeyoung has only strengthened after graduation. with the help of your therapist and a certain someone whose name you can’t bear to speak these days, you finally grew enough courage to tell her how you’ve felt like you were nothing more than her shadow since you were a preteen. you even told her about all of the times men (and women alike) only talked to you to get to her. to say she was horrified is the understatement of the century. after endless reassurances that you bore no ill will towards her and didn’t fault her for anything, she finally stopped apologizing. now, you two are closer than ever. 

“it’s just… i want to see you happy with someone,” she adds. she doesn’t have to end her sentence with  “again”, since you already know what she means: she wants to see you as happy as you were with beomgyu, again. except, for real this time. not for a bet or for fun.

“it’s okay, chae,” you say with a smile. “i’m happy as i am, i mean it.” and you do. working in your desired career field has helped you tremendously with income, and you’re actually able to provide for yourself and for your family without killing yourself with working overtime. you have so much free time, you're even able to date around a little bit. it never amounts to anything particularly serious, but it’s enough as it is. gone is the permanent storm cloud looming over your head and you’re finally able to breathe for the first time since, well, your relationship with beomgyu.

“i know,” she replies. “i just want my best friend to be even happier; is that so bad?” you roll your eyes good naturedly and she grins. 

“who knows? maybe i’ll meet someone tonight,” you muse, but you don’t really mean it. taehyun, or “tyun” as you affectionately call him, is having a get together at his place. he hinted at bringing some of his single friends, but you don’t expect anything to come of it. while it’s true that with the help of therapy and being completely honest about the nature of your inferiority complex with your best friend has helped boost your confidence, you never expect much from prospective romantic partners. you’ll never say it, but everyone knows it’s because of beomgyu.

“maybe. y’know, soobin is pretty cute,” she says with a nod, taking everything you say way too seriously. 

“yeah. he is.” 

-

while you have been to many, many events taehyun has invited you to, there has always been an unspoken rule that beomgyu would not be there. it seems that taehyun is able to perfectly juggle you two without having you all appear at the same place at the same time. that is, until you arrive at his apartment with a big smile and a 12-pack of beer and see the man who haunts you religiously sitting listlessly on taehyun’s couch. he doesn’t usually care enough to look up from his drink when new arrivals step foot through the door, but for some odd reason, he does when you walk in. it’s almost as if his truly supernatural intuition tells him to. unfortunately for you, his intuition is a pain in your fucking ass. 

when you meet eyes (lock eyes, really) you feel a pit of dread bloom in your stomach, threatening to swallow you whole. still, there’s a light fluttering of your heart that you wish to god you could deny, but it’s there, nonetheless.

you all stay in a deadlock for what feels like a lifetime before taehyun pulls you from it with a smile and hug.

“i’m glad you made it,” he says lightly. 

“of course, tyun,” you smile, successfully pulled out from your daze and back into the real world. it’s okay. you can do this. you’re a different person now that a year has passed. you’re mature enough to be in the same place as beomgyu. what you’re not mature enough for, though, is actually having to speak to him. luckily, you have no plans to do so now (or ever). 

beomgyu thinks… differently. 

when you’re standing in a quiet corner nursing a drink and wondering what the hell you’re still doing here, you almost miss the sound of feet shuffling towards you. your eyes lazily glance up and see beomgyu himself unsurely leaning against the wall next to you. 

“h-hey,” he says softly, cautiously. you look confused for a second, almost like you’re unsure if he’s addressing you, but his eyes look so earnest, there's no way he’s not. 

“hey?” you reply before fussing with your cup and watching the alcohol swirl around, threatening to spill over the rim of your solo cup.

“uh, how… how have you been?” he asks so nervously that it sounds like he’s surprised that you even responded. and he is. if he were you, he wouldn’t give himself the time of day. why would he? he doesn't deserve it.

“good,” you say with a ghost of a genuine smile. if he knew you less, he wouldn’t even be able to catch it. thankfully, he does know you, for better or for worse. his heart sings at the thought that you’re able to smile at him like you did before.

he waits for you to ask him how he is — that’d be the perfect segue into his apology — but you don’t. it’s like you don’t care to know, and any tune his heart was previously singing is strangled in an instant.

well, he supposes that he’s lucky that you’ve even said two words to him (two words in the literal sense that you’ve only actually said two words in total, but that's not the point). he’s even luckier that you actually seem to mean that you’re doing well. taehyun had told him as much, but it’s not nearly as effective as seeing you glowing the way you do with his own eyes. you look normal. you look happy. there was a point in his life where he thought that’s all he wanted, but he realizes he was wrong. he shamelessly wants to be happy, too, and he knows the only way he can do that is if he’s with you.

the air is awkward and heavy for a few minutes, but neither of you make a move to break it until you decide enough is enough. you purse your lips and are about to bid him goodbye so you can get home and ruminate on your very, very brief interaction, but he notices your movement and reaches out to grab your arm before he can stop himself. instinctively, you smack his hand away. not hard at all, more like a swipe than a smack, really, but he recoils as if you’ve just backhanded him.

“s-sorry,” you stammer. “it was just a gut reaction.” 

somehow, that makes him feel even worse. there was a time where his touch soothed you like nothing else, but now all it does is put you on your guard. 

“it’s fine,” he says with a forced smile, and your heart aches. “i was just gonna see if you wanted a ride home. i haven’t drank anything, so i just thought that… maybe…”

“oh, it’s okay,” you politely decline. “chae is going to pick me up.” he flinches at the name and as much as he wishes you couldn’t tell, you definitely do. 

“but i can take you!” he insists a little too desperately. “i just thought, you know, that we could talk or something,” he mumbles. 

“talk? about what?” you ask sharply. you begin feeling like you’re going to lose your temper. why is he making this so hard? it’s starting to piss you off.

“i—”

“if you’re going to apologize to me again, i don't want to hear it,” you sneer. you said you weren't mad at him and that you forgave him, which felt true at the time, but the more you started respecting yourself, the less patience you had for him. as you look at him, looking like he's every part like a victim in this ordeal, you realize that you’re angrier than you previously let on. “you know, i’ve thought more about what you did.” he looks like he’s just been kicked in the stomach, but you don't stop.

“and i’ve thought about what i would do for rent. i thought, ‘well, maybe if i were desperate enough for the money, i could do that, too’, and you know how desperate i was.” his lips tremble because he does know. he knows it all too well. “but i realized i couldn’t, and even if i could, i never would. the shame? the humiliation? i would never put someone through that, and i thought you would never, either, but i was wrong. i was wrong about you and the kind of person you are, or were, or whatever. and i thought, at the very least, you had enough decency to at least leave me the fuck alone, but i guess i was wrong about you again, as always.” you don’t mean for your voice to get so loud, but it does. each syllable is ripping through beomgyu like a punch to his gut, but he can’t find it within himself to defend his actions. all he can do is sit there and take it. 

devastated doesn’t even begin to encapsulate how beomgyu looks and feels, but you don’t really give a shit. you’re absolutely fuming right now, nearly shaking from releasing the anger you’ve felt for months, and he has the nerve to look like the one who’s hurt? what about you? what about how you felt when your boyfriend admitted he only dated you because he needed (more like wanted) the cash?

“babe…” you hear a familiar voice say. chaeyoung. she must be here to pick you up. your attention snaps from her to the rest of the room and you finally register that everyone has gone silent, all their stares directed towards you. embarrassed isn’t even the word. mortified is more like it. you awkwardly clear your throat and take one last scathing glance at beomgyu before grabbing chaeyoung’s arm and storming outside of taehyun’s place.

the ride home is silent — unsettlingly silent — until chaeyoung pipes up after a few minutes of driving.

“why don’t you just talk to him?” chaeyoung asks tentatively.

“what?!” you exclaim, whipping your head around to meet her gaze. 

“it’s just — i mean, i don’t think it would hurt anything if you tried,” she says cautiously, which is very, very much unlike her. 

“why? i thought you, of all people, would understand. you know what he did to me.”

“i’m not defending him, honey,” she coos, as if she’s soothing a child during a tantrum. “i’m always on your side. always.”

“then why are you saying i should hear him out? i thought you hated him!” you don't really know why, but you’re becoming more and more defensive as you speak to her. 

“i did hate him. i just think there’s more to it than that. why don't you talk me through how you’re feeling?” she suggests.

“i… i just don’t understand. i’m not who i used to be — i’m not some spineless doormat who lets people treat me like shit. don’t you think so?” you ask, sounding increasingly unsure about that sentiment to the point where it’s nearly laughable. 

“what does that have to do with hearing somebody out when you clearly want to?” she argues patiently.

“it’s just… it’s just not fair!” you exclaim. “it’s not fair how he used me. i had to try so fucking hard to rebuild myself after him.”

“as much as i love you, you and i both know you weren’t rebuilding yourself; you never had that foundation in the first place, and that’s not your fault, but it’s not beomgyu’s, either. it’s true that he treated you like shit, and you don’t have to forgive him for that, but how you felt about yourself was always so much bigger than him.”

you find yourself recoiling with each point she makes.

you hate how much she makes sense. 

“b-but still, i’m different now,” you argue, more like you’re convincing yourself instead of her. “i won’t let myself fall back into him like that.” 

“don't you trust yourself to make the right decisions? people change — you know that better than anyone. look, i’m not saying you have to or should do anything, but i think it’d be good for you to at least listen to him. you’re not doing yourself any favors by torturing yourself with ‘what if’s’ instead of just, well, talking to him.”

-

you think about it, and think about it, then think about it some more. you wonder what beomgyu could say to change anything he's done before realizing that it's impossible. but maybe chaeyoung's right, maybe he did change. does that matter, though? probably not, but you still find yourself wanting to know what he has to say. maybe you'll find it within yourself to finally let him go.

you unblock his number and, before you can think too much about it, you’re calling him. it doesn’t ring more than once before you hear the line connect.

“h-hello?”

“i’ve thought about it, and i'd like to talk.” 

“s-sure. uh, when?” he stammers.

“whenever.”

“i'll be there in 15,” he hurriedly says, as if wasting a single second will lead you to change your mind.

“okay,” you reply with a soft smile on your face, hanging up shortly thereafter.

12 minutes later, you hear a frantic knocking on your door. you open it to find beomgyu out of breath and looking incredibly disheveled. your lips almost curl up at his sorry state, but they don’t quite make it there.

“hey,” he says between pants.

you don’t respond, but you crack your door open further to let him in. he takes your cue and stands awkwardly in your living room, almost as if he’s afraid to actually touch anything. you don’t miss the way he takes everything in. some of the interior is different, but the bones of it are still the same. he doesn't know why, but the thought relieves him.

“so?” you ask after clearing your throat, effectively breaking the silence. he looks at you confusedly before seeming to remember what he’s doing here.

“r-right. i’m— i mean, i just wanted to explain,” he says meekly. 

“explain what?” 

“explain why i, uh, why i d-d—”

“dated me for a bet?” you finish, and mercifully so, because the words feel like nails when they try to leave his own throat.

“yeah. that,” he says, taking his hand and nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“mm,” you hum.

“i just want you to know that i’m sorry,” he blurts out before he has half a mind to stop himself. he knows it’s the wrong thing to say when he sees impatience flash across your features.

“we’ve established that.”

“oh. right,” he croaks, looking more and more crestfallen and lost by the second. 

“listen, beomgyu,” you sigh. “if you don’t have anything to say, i think you should just l—” 

“i do! i do have something to say!” he exclaims. you still seem agitated, but against all odds, you nod.

“back when heeseung and i, you know, made the b-bet, i knew it was wrong,” he says. “i knew it was wrong, but i still did it. i guess i just saw you as, like, a challenge or something.” you flinch at his words and cross your arms as if your insides will spill out if you don’t. he winces, but continues, anyway.

“but then i got to know you,” he quickly adds. “really know you. and i realized that you’re so much more to me than that. every day i spent with you taught me more about myself, and i didn’t like what i learned; but  i think even just being around you made me into a better person. i don’t know how to ever thank you for that, but i guess it’s worth a shot, so thank you. really.” you can’t help but feel your eyes water. you were that important to him? “and every day, i want to fucking strangle myself when i think about how much i hurt you,” he says, voice cracking at the end of his sentence. you take him all in, finally noticing the fatigue in his gaze, in his entire being. reminiscent of the way you looked nearly a year ago. instead of satisfaction at the thought that he finally knows how you felt, all you can feel is sympathy. you know how it feels to be the kind of tired even sleep can't pacify.

“i want you to know that you are the most important person in my life, a-and even if you don’t forgive me, it’s… well, i understand. but you are not a joke to me, or a challenge, or whatever. i guess i just want to tell you that i meant it when i said that i loved you, and i mean it when i say it now. because i do. i really, really do.” you are silent, trying to scan his eyes for any signs of deception or ill intent, but you can’t find any. his teary eyes and quivering lips tell you that he really means what he says. is that enough, though? can it ever be enough? maybe not, probably not, but as you stare at the tears that threaten to leave his eyes, you decide you’d like to try.

“okay,” you say. 

“o-okay? does that mean—” 

“it means we can try again. as friends. for real this time. but i’m not the same person i was. is that okay?” the tears that were once on the precipice of leaving his waterline have now begun to flow freely. fuck his stupid pride, you can have all of it if you just let him give it to you.

“y-yeah. me neither. i mean, i’m not the same person, either,” he babbles. 

“okay,” you say with a nod, ever-so-graciously wiping his tears with the pads of your thumbs, smile floating on your lips. and he just can’t help himself. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks. 

“that’s not what friends do,” you chastise playfully, “but alright. just this once.” and you’re still as kind and merciful as ever. he lets out a shaky breath.

slowly, he takes his trembling hands and pushes your hair behind your ear before leaning down and planting his lips against yours. you melt into the feeling, just like you always did when he kissed you, and you feel your heart fluttering in your chest. on beomgyu’s part, he feels like he’s in a dream. to be perfectly honest, he’s had many dreams like this since you left, but nothing compares to how sweet his present reality is. 

when he deepens the kiss, you let him. you want to say you’re unsure why, but you know it’s because you don’t want this moment to end. you two stay in each other’s arms for longer than you’d like to admit. who can blame you for it when nothing in your life has felt this right in such a long, long time? 

for beomgyu, when you two finally part, he thinks it wasn’t long enough, at all. but then, no amount of time could really satisfy him, anyway. still, when he looks into your eyes, he can’t help the unconscious pout that adorns his face when he realizes the moment is over. you can’t control the way you let out a soft laugh at it.

-

being friends with you is very, very hard. not because you're hard to be around or because there's anything wrong with you, but because, to beomgyu, you're so easy and comforting to be with. it’s all too familiar to beomgyu and he finds himself slipping into old habits such as holding your hand and tucking your hair behind your ear when you let it fall into your face. surprisingly, you let him do whatever he wants. whether that's because you missed his touch or because you just don’t want him to stop, you don’t care to figure out. when taehyun brings up the unnecessary intimacy between you two, you can’t help but blush and deny anything crooked going on, which beomgyu takes to heart every time.

he’ll wait for you to accept him, though. he’ll always wait. 

and one night when you’re watching cheesy movies on your couch with him and you look down at your intertwined hands, his thumb unconsciously rubbing against your smaller one, you realize you don’t want to deny him. 

“beomgyu?” you whisper, drawing his gaze from the screen.

“yes?” he asks, attention fully on you like a puppy ready to listen to whatever you say.

“you don’t have to wait anymore.”

-

notes pt. 2: yeah sorry if this is the corniest thing u have ever read... my fault!

permanent (sfw only): @zzhyuu @defnotleee

permanent taglist (sfw/[n]sfw): @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @midwinterblizzard @everythingvirgoes @sooberryworld @20-cms @inkigayocamman @hyueika @boba-beom @vicurious28 @blossommi @lickingan0rchid @katsukis1wife @binniebakery @notevenheretbh1

series taglist: @vixensss @dejavu-jun @gyuchubss @missychief1404 @hihello-pinky @dojdcmidcmkmfekdvmkrkmvvrm

*bold names could not be tagged

[enwoso]

hey, could you try write something platonic for arsenal x reader with anger issues and the team getting the brunt of it? maybe like kim/leah having to deal with them or learn to calm them down? something along those lines idrk hahahah

NOT YOU — arsenal wfc x reader

this went in a different direction then what i had originally planned. sorry if some sorts don’t make sense i wrote this while i was half asleep. but enjoy x

warnings: talks of an absent father, few swear words

masterlist

the team was worried about. more specifically kim and leah were worried about you. they had never seen you act the way you had in the past. usually you were always laughing and joking around with kyra, pulling pranks and overall just being a pest.

but something had switched, little things were making you snap more quicker than usual, you were making harsh tackles on your own teammates as well as making rude remarks to anyone who tried to talk to you which wasn't totally out of the normal but your actions were speaking louder than your words at the moment.

the team knew you had a short fuse but it had never been this bad before. something had lit your fuse.

the girls had tried everything to try and figure out what had happened but nothing seemed to work but by the day, your anger was starting to build and leah and kim were worried it was about to spill over and were worried for whoever was on the receiving line for when that actually happened.

"we need to try and figure out what is wrong with y/n, she's gonna seriously hurt someone otherwise" kim said as she walked back from the training fields with leah by her side, who immediately agreed with the scot.

a hushed talk of the other girls in front on the two talking about your negative attitude. the two giving each other a look knowing the longer your temper and bad mood continued the more it was going to affect the team.

you were walking behind everyone else, by yourself letting your thoughts override as you walked along the gravelled path of colney. your boots hanging from your hand as the wind hit your bare legs.

you were last to walk into the locker room to grab your bag as well as being one of the last to leave. checking your phone to look at the time but being met with several messages from your dad.

rolling your eyes at them as your scowl deepening as you didn’t even bother to read any of them knowing it whatever he had written but be a whole load of waffle, as the man couldn’t tell the truth if smacked him in the face and said ‘i’m here!’

you and your dad had a complicated relationship, actually scratch that, that was putting it in nice terms. to you he was a deadbeat dad, or you could go as far as saying a sad excuse for a father.

chucking your shoes on and tying the laces when you felt a showed stand over you, noticing the shoes you knew who it was before you even looked up.

“y/n, can we have a chat?” kim asked calmly, as you looked at her not saying anything instead nodding for her to continue. knowing that this chat had been coming as you’d noticed the looks and chats she’d been having with leah and a few of the others girls — knowing that it would most likely be about you.

“you don’t have to tell me but i can tell your not yourself y/n and we’re all here for you and we just want to help you if we can but- your behaviour is starting to affect the team” she began as you just sat on the bench not showing the scot any emotion. kim was walking on egg shells as she spoke, you being able to sense her trying to pick her words carefully.

“you going to seriously injure someone if you carry on lashing out at people. so if there anything we can help with?” kim spoke in the same spoke tone, you leg bouncing up and down your head was a mess and the last thing you wanted was to have someone pity you.

you didn’t like pity.

you shook your head, “nope i’m all good!” packing your bag up and slinging it on your shoulder.

“are you sure- cause we-“

“kim! i said i’m good! just leave it at that! leave me fucking be!” you spat storming out the room. the door slamming as you walked down the corridor. regret and guilt filling your body with each step, but you were sick of people asking you if you were okay, babying you.

why couldn’t they all just take the hint when you said you were fine?

“y/n.” her voice echoed along the corridor, making you freeze. “c’mere” leah spoke in a stern tone, as you turned around half of the blondes body poking out of one of the meeting rooms.

dragging your feet to where she was, taking in a big breath as you walked into the empty room. taking a seat in one of the chairs as leah turned on her heel the door clicking shut as she stood tall in front of you her arms folded across her chest, almost intimidating you.

“what’s going on? this isn’t the y/n i know.” leah said in the same tone she’d spoken to you in just a few minutes ago. you stayed silent, a part of you scared you may lash out at the blonde too.

leah knew you best out of anyone on the team, she was the one you trusted most out of the team even if she was several years younger than you. she was the one that took you under her wing when you first started training with the first team.

with that though meant the blonde could read you like a book. you couldn’t lie to her like you easily could to the others as she would know the minute you opened your mouth.

“maybe this is the new y/n” you spoke in a hushed tone, shrugging your shoulders as leah raised her eyebrows confused at your words.

“no. no, this isn’t you. has something happened with your mum?” she asked, as she watched your body language closely as that was the closest she was getting to you actually giving the blonde some clues as to what had happened.

your shoulders tense up a little more. leah knew about your close relationship with your mum how she was your number one supporter, the england captain having quite a good relationship with her, herself.

you shook your head, “no, my mums fine” you paused before continuing.

"my dads’ been back in contact." you mumbled as a sigh of defeat come from you. the room filling with silence as leah came and sat down next to you putting her arm around you not saying anything yet as she knew you hadn't finished what you wanted to say yet.

"begging to be back in my life, that he's so proud that i'm his daughter, that he misses me blah blah blah, coming back into my life once again when it’s convenient for him." the bitterness was obvious in your tone of voice as you spoke, it told the whole story for itself.

leah knew about the your history with your father, how he had treat you and your mother when you were little before leaving your mum to carry on your upbringing as a single parent when you were just four.

but then every few years he would pop back up into your life, wanting and begging to be apart of it. that he had changed and wasn’t the same man he was when you were five.

but you had learned the hard way, that people like him. they don’t change.

so the first couple of times when he would spring back up when you were younger, he would promise you the world. that he would promise take you out for the day and spoil you with anything and everything you want claiming it as his way of making up for lost time but it would always end the same way.

you sitting on the bottom step of your stairs, hair all nicely done, dressed in an outfit you would spent hours figuring out what to wear. you would sit there for hours, the sound of the clock ticking away. all for him to just not turn up and then make a lame excuse up as you cried in your mums arms.

so the last time you saw him before the past week, was when you were 15 just after making it into your first youth camp with england as well as joining the arsenal academy, your dad had told you that he had met someone in america and that he was moving there.

a small part of you was a little hurt but the majority of you was happy as sad as it sounds but he was never really a dad to you.

“i thought he was living in america?” leah asked as you hummed, a mock laugh coming over you “me too, until he showed up at my door at 6 in the morning!”

“thinking he was going to just have a place to stay at mine as if he didn’t just leave for 5 years no messages, no calls. then when i said no he started trying to manipulate me, saying how im such a bad daughter-“ you breathed out feeling leah squeeze your shoulders, her hand rubbing up and down your arms for comfort.

“have you spoken to your mum about this? does she know he’s back in london?” leah asked quietly as you shook your head. “no, she doesn’t need that stress right now.”

“i don’t know what to do le, everytime i go home he’s there. i don’t even fuckjng know how he got my address.” your voice cracked, all the emotions you’d been holding in for the past week finding flooding over.

you were conflicted, cause whilst you had spent so many years hating your father for never being there or if he was it was only when it suited him and not when you really needed him. you wanted to believe he’d changed but his actions spoke louder and then his words.

but then again he was your dad, where you got your blood from but that was it, you didn’t really know him at all and he didn’t really know you.

you both only really knowing of each other.

“it’s okay, y/n we’ll figure it out together i promise.”

[mama2bears]

Unspoken Words -Part 2 (Final)

Warnings: Angst, injury, pregancy

Pairings: Tyler Owens/F Reader

Part 2 of a request recieved. Hope I captured what you were looking for. I did my best on it. Enjoy! *Part 1 here*

You slowly opened your eyes. Your head was pounding. You heard water dripping. Fighting against the blurry vision you tried to remember what happened. Slowly the memories came back. You tried to call Tyler, then the tornado siren went off and you ran down to the basement. “Tyler?” You called out. Why wasn't he here? Surely he knew about the tornado. He would have came for you or at least called you to make sure you were okay.

Searching around you found your phone and grabbed it up. No calls received, and no service...which was normal after a large tornado. Your mind flashed back to when Tyler tried calling you and left voice mails...which you didn't care to answer or even check at the time. He was trying to call you. He was trying to warn you and you were too stubborn to let go of your hurt and anger and answer...or maybe he was calling you because something happened. Did he get caught in the tornado? Is that why he isn't here now searching for you?

“I need you, Ty.” you whisper and put a hand on your stomach, “I need you and our unborn baby needs you. We love you.” tears streamed down you face as you slowly sat up and checked yourself for any injuries. Other then your throbbing head, you didn't feel pain anywhere else.

Around you though, was total destruction. A broken pipe from the ceiling was spraying water. Things were blown around the room, part of the ceiling was collapsed and you could hear people calling for each other.

You carefully stood up, having just enough space. The stairs you came down were now gone. You were surrounded by concrete and splinted wood.

From somewhere beyond where you were trapped, you could hear someone calling your name...and Tyler's” Quickly, you recognized the voices of Dexter, Lily, Dani, and Boone. They were here looking for you...but where was Tyler? Why wasn't he here? Why were they calling his name too? Fear gripped you as the realization sank in. Something had happened. Your body shook with sobs as you cried out 'I am here.' to the team, hoping they'd hear you. You had to get out of here and find out what happened to Tyler. You had to find him. “Please be okay, Ty. Please.” you mumbled though the tears.

“Y/N? Can you hear us?” Boone was calling. It sounded like he was right on top of you.

“Here! I am here!” You called.

“We hear you. We're coming.” the team worked quickly tossing debris off to the side. “Are you okay? You hurt?”

“Tyler...where is Tyler?” you cried, afraid of the answer you'd hear.

You heard the work stop and there was a long silence. “He isn't with you?” Boone asked.

“No. He left last night to go chasing today.” you were now shaking, hugging your legs to yourself. “ I am okay, but I need Tyler. Find him.”

“We will, honey.” Dani said, “But we gotta get you out of here first.”

“Boone, did you see Tyler at all?” you asked, a new fear rising. Maybe Tyler just left town. Left you. Maybe he was done, just like you said you were. Maybe, he no longer loved you or cared what happened. You hoped this was the case, rather then he was out there hurt or worse.

“Yeah, he crashed on my sofa last night.” Boone said. “Then went chasing with us today, until we realized the storm was going to develop here, and not to the north like expected. Tyler kicked me out of the truck and floored it. We were about a half hour from here, but he was trying to beat the storm. He wanted to get to you and make sure you were safe. No weather stations were reporting it. We were trying to alert the stations from the van and Tyler was racing to get to you. We agreed to meet here.

You heard the worry in the teams voices as they kept working to remove debris to free you. “Is...is his truck out there?” your voice strained against the tears.

“No...it's total destruction out here, but I am not seeing his truck anywhere.” Boone said just as they flew a board to the side, opening up a space. You could see the sunset sky...and nothing else. The house was completely flattened.

“I am going now to report him missing,” Dexter said, “I am sure they are overwhelmed right now, but at least they will have him listed and more people can be looking.”

Boone helped you out and hugged you close, seeing your red swollen eyes. “You got a nasty gash on your head, let's go get it checked out.” he said softly.

“No. I want to find Ty first.” you were shaking.

“I know sweetie.” Lily took you head, “And we are going to start looking. We know the road he most likely was on. Maybe he's just broke down or got stuck. There's no cell service right now so he wouldn't be able to call. We gotta get you checked out though.”

“I want to go look for him.” your voice was filled with determination.

“We've been here for two hours. It took us almost an hour to get into town. The roads are completely covered.” Boone said. “It's getting dark and we can't see. Let's get you checked out. Lily, Dani, and Dexter will keep checking the area for any signs of Tyler or his truck. We'll ask everyone around. Once you are clear, we'll go drive the roads and look, okay?”

You nod softly and wait until Boone leads you away from the others, “I don't want the other's to know yet.” you say softly, “Actually I wanted Ty to be the first to know, but if something happens...I need someone else to know.”

“Know what?” Boone asked.

“I am pregnant. 8 weeks. Today I wanted to tell Ty since it was Father's Day. That's why we fought last night. That's why he went to your house.”

“Congratulations.” Boone pulled you into a hug, “We will have to tell the medics, let them check on the baby. I won't say anything to anyone else though. T is going to be so happy.”

You nod as the tears start falling again, “I didn't tell him I loved him yesterday. I told him I didn't care if he came back. I told him to leave.”

“Shh, it's okay.” he whispered, rubbing your shoulders, “T understands. He knew you were mad and he was hurt, but I know he forgave you. You were the first thing he thought of when that storm changed.”

You reach the ambulance and Boone explains what happened and that you were pregnant. They take you in and sit you on a stretcher and begin asking a number of questions. Finally, what seemed like hours, they put a bandage on your head and told you all looked just fine.

“Let's go find Tyler.” You almost ran from the ambulance. If the team had been there for three hours before finding you, and then you spent about an hour getting checked out..that was at least four hours that Tyler had been out there somewhere.

“Any word?” Boone asked Dexter.

“No. They've checked the hospital lists and accident reports. There is no sign of Tyler nor the truck. He's officially listed as a missing person, along with about a hundred other people. There's not much they can do now. Phones are still down so we can't be calling around checking our self.”

“I want to go look for him. See if we can find the truck or anything.”

“Let's go.” Boone said, running to the van. “I'll come too.” Lily said, “The drone mainly collects data, but we just recently put a camera and night vision on it. We'll put it up and get a bigger picture.”

“Thank you.” you whisper.

* * * * *

“Y/N...” your name was the first thing Tyler muttered, fighting against the blackness. His vision was blurry, pain coursed though his body. He slowly became aware that he was hanging upside down and it was increasingly hard to breathe. His chest was filled with pain as he gasped for air.

He couldn't remember exactly what happened, he knew there was a tornado headed for the house and he had to get to you..did he make it? “Y/N...” he called your name again. Slowly he remembered the phone ringing, then the truck flipping.

Tyler's body shook from the cold or the loss of blood. He didn't know which one anymore. If he remembered right it was middle of June, so his guess was that it wasn't that cold, even for night.

His eyes scanned the truck, trying to locate his phone. 'Gotta get out of here.' he felt like a weight was pressing against his chest, crushing his heart and lungs together. He knew it was going to kill him if he kept hanging upside down. First thing was first. He had to free the seat belt.

“Come on dammit.” he muttered, his vision going blurry and blackness fighting to take over again. Finding the buckle for the seat belt he pulled, but couldn't loosen it.

“I am so sorry baby...” Tyler muttered, wondering what you were going though right now. Were you safe? Were you missing him? Did you even know he was missing? Fighting against the unconscious threatening to over take him and gasping for air, he closed his eyes against the pain and tried one last time to get free from the seat belt.. As he gave the seat belt another hard pull, his hand brushed against a sharp object and pain shot though his stomach. The sharp object was stuck in stomach, he was guessing it was glass. He touched it for a moment, his breathing now coming in slow raspy gasps.

He could pull the glass out of him and maybe cut the seat belt before losing conscious again...but risk bleeding to death within minutes. Or he could leave the glass be and slowly suffocate from the pressure of his organs pressing against his heart and lungs. Tears streamed down his face as he slowly came to realize he was dying. Either way, he would never see you again. His thoughts shot to the box that he hoped was still in his pocket. He wondered what you would think when someone found it and handed it to you. Would the golden engagement ring that he has held on for the past two months, trying to find the right time to ask you to be his wife, be enough to make you realize how deeply he loved you. Or would he die here, and you would go on about your life and never truly understand the depth of his love. He just always thought he had more time. Tyler left his hand fall loosely, hitting against the roof of the truck as he gasped again for air. It was getting harder and harder to breath. His last thought was a prayer that you were safe, that you got to the basement in time. He knew the team would take care of you and he prayed you would find happiness with someone who loved you at least half as much as he did.

* * * * *

“I'm not seeing anything.” Lily sighed, flying her drone over the destroyed homes and along the road. “Really, he could be anywhere between here and sixty miles from here.”

“Wait!” You scream and Boone slammed on the breaks.

“What is it?”

“Skid marks.” You point to the road, where black skid marks ran from one side of the road to the other and then into the grass and...nothing.”

“Could have been there for a while.” Boone stated.

“Checking it out.” Lily moved the drone over the the forested area the tire tracks disappeared into.

“Oh my God, there's something down there!” She gasped, “It's a vehicle that's upside down. I don't know what kind or anything.”

“Call 911, it should go though even without service.” Boone yelled taking off and running.

“I am coming with you...what if it's him..” you cried.

“No Y/N. Stay. It's too risky.” Boone yelled and slid down the embankment.

“911 what is your emergency.” the operator answered.

“We need ambulance. Truck upside down over embankment.” you said, giving the road and nearest location.

“It's him! It's Tyler!” Boone yelled up and you heard the tears in his voice.

“How many occupants?” The operator asked in a monotone.

“Ty! NO!” You screamed, breaking from the hug Lily had you in and slide down the hill.

“Miss...how many people are in the truck.” the operator said.

“One.”

“Y/N no...stay back.” Boone was pulling a knife from his pocket.

“How is he?” you asked trembling. “Send help now!” you screamed at the operator on the phone.

“Miss, help is on the way. I need you to stay calm.”

“He's trapped upside down.” Boone shook his head, “I am cutting the seat belts.”

“Miss, is the person breathing?”

Boone got the belts cut and was pulling Tyler's limp body from the truck.

“Miss...I need you to answer me.” the operator's voice filled with impatience.

Not saying a word, Boone started doing compressions and you fell at Tyler's side. “No...no he's not.” you whisper into the phone.

“Do you know how to perfo....”

“Yes CPR is in progress. Just send help!” You scream at her, hearing sirens in the distance.

“Help is on the way miss. Stay on the phone with me until they arrive.”

You breathe two breaths into Tyler's lungs when Boone nods at you and he starts compressions again.

“We've got it from here. We've got it from here.” Medics were sliding down the embankment and pushing you and Boone out of the way.

They started up the AED machine and placed a bag over his face forcing air into his lungs. “Clear!” one medic yelled, and you saw Tyler's body jump with the electric shock.

You crumbled to the ground in uncontrollable sobs and Boone sits next to you, holding you tightly, tears streaming down his own face.

“Clear....” you hear them shout again.

“We got a pulse. Go Go Go.” The medics were yelling.

“I am coming.” you yell following them.

“Me too.” Boone stated.

“Sorry, only one person.” The medic called.

“Sir, she's pregnant and this is the baby's father. I need to be there for her.” Boone stated.

The medic nodded. “Get in.”

“I'll go get Dexter and Dani and will meet you there.” Lily called.

Boone nodded and sat next to you in the ambulance. You took Ty's hand in yours, noticing how limp, cold and lifeless it felt. “I love baby. I need you...our baby needs you.” you whisper though your tears.

You sat there holding Tyler's hand in yours, “I am here. I am not going anywhere.” you kept whispering. You listened to the uneven beeps of the various monitors they had hooked up. You didn't know what they meant, but the medics were talking about oxygen levels being dangerously low, irregular heartbeats, and dropping body temp.

It seemed to be hours, but you knew it was only minutes before the ambulance pulled into the emergency room entrance to the hospital.

“He's crashing again!” one of the medics yelled, “Code Blue! Code Blue.” they rushed Tyler away from you and into the hospital.

A nurse came up, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to a waiting room. “Is there anyone we can call for you?” she asked tenderly.

You shook your head, “No, our friends are on their way.”

“The doctor will be out just as soon as they know anything. If you need anything just let us know, sweetie.”

You sink down into a sofa, pulling your knees up to your chest, you wrap your arms around your legs and break down in sobs. Boone sits next to you, holding you in a hug, “You got to calm down, remember the baby. This can't be good for the baby.”

“Who's here for Tyler Owens?” A nurse called.

“Here.” You stand up on wobbly legs and would have feel back down if it weren't for Boone.

“Here's his things. They're taking him back for surgery.” She handed you a small bag with a wallet and a small black box in it along with a larger bag with his clothes.

You clutch the bag to your chest and sink back into the sofa taking deep gasping breaths. For the first time the true reality of actually losing Tyler hit your chest like a ton of bricks.

“Can I have some help here?” Boone called, trying to get a nurses attention without leaving your side.

“You got to calm down.” Boone was whispered, “Remember the baby. Please calm down.”

A nurse runs up to you and takes your hand, “Miss, you're having a panic attack, come with me.”

You keep the bag clutched in your figures as the nurse leads you back to a room.

Boone buries his face in his hands and breaks down in sobs. This should have been a joyous occasion and now two of his best friends were in the hospital.

“Hey, where's Y/N?” Lilly asked as the team ran up to Boone.

“They've admitted her. Gave her a sedative to calm her down. She was having panic attacks.” He sighed.

“Any word on Tyler?” Dani asked.

Boone shook his head, “They brought out his things, said he's in surgery but that's all I know.”

“Was the ring in there?” Lily asked.

Boone nodded, “I am not sure Y/N realized what it was yet though.”

They knew about Tyler's plans to propose to you. He had showed them the ring on the first day and he had talked almost non stop about how he wanted to propose. He just couldn't settle on the perfect moment.

The four friends leaned back on the waiting room sofa with a heavy sigh. Waiting was the worst part.

* * * *

You awoke to Boone and Lily sitting by your bedside. Your eyes were still heavy with sleep as you struggled to remember what exactly had happened. Then, it all came rushing back to you at once and you cried out, “Tyler! Is he okay?” You looked desperately between Boone and Lily for some answers “Is the baby okay?”

Lily shot you a confused look, then looked over at Boone, “What baby?”

“We are still awaiting word on Tyler. It's been several hours, but last we checked he was still in surgery. We don't know anything else yet.” Boone took your hand, “Your baby is fine. They just gave you something to calm you down and help you rest a little.” Then he turned to Lily, “I wasn't suppose to tell you, but since Y/N let the cat out of the bag...Her and Tyler are expecting. He doesn't know...that's why she got upset when he went on a chase with us. It was suppose to be a special night.”

Tears rolled down your eyes, “I should never have gotten mad at him. I normally wouldn't have been so mad. I would have been hurt, but not that mad. Not to do what I did. I couldn't even say I love you. I told him I didn't care if he never came back...what if...what if those were the last words he ever hears from me?”

Lily squeezed your hand, “Hey now...you have to calm down and stop thinking like that. Hormones make you do things like that. You might be laughing one minute, crying the next and then be madder then hell...and never know why.”

Just at that moment the doctor walked in, “Well good to see your awake. How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“I am worried about my boyfriend, the baby's father.” you sob.

“I see. Well, as far as I know there's no update on him yet. You on the other hand, I am going to go ahead an release. I don't want to give you anything over the counter because too much sedatives could harm the baby. I would suggest using things like a weighted blanket, hot tea, good friends, music, or reading a book to help calm your nerves. If you have another panic attack though and are unable to calm down, you'll need to come back here.”

You nod, “Thank you doctor.”

Boone steps out of the room and Lily helps you to get up and dressed while you wait for the doctor to come back with your release papers. Once you're dressed, you pick up the bags that had Tyler's things in it, and for the first time, notice the small black box.

“What's this?” you ask, opening up the bag.

“That..” Lily whispered softly, “Is something Tyler has kept in his pocket for the last two months. He was so excited, but he just didn't know the right time or place.”

You opened up the box and saw a beautiful gold band and a sparkling diamond.

“Look at the inside of it.” Lily whispered, trying to hold back her tears.

You turn it over and read the inscription “You are my anchor in the storm”

Tears roll down your cheeks as you put the ring back in the box with shaky hands. “I can't lose him, Lily. I just can't.”

She pulls you into a hug, “It'll be okay. Ty is tough, he'll be okay.”

* * * * *

It was well into morning the next day when finally someone stepped into the waiting room. “Who's here for Tyler Owens?”

You stand up on shaky legs. The team stands with you.

“Come with me.” he motioned and the five of you step behind the swinging doors.

“He's out of surgery and in recovery. He hasn't woken up yet, but I expect him to make a full recovery. He had a collapsed lung and bleeding on the brain, both of those I believe is from him being upside down for so long. The glass that stabbed him in the stomach had caused internal bleeding and his lower left leg was broken. We've got everything repaired. He's looking at a long recovery and at least six weeks of non weight baring on the leg, but I do believe he is going to be okay.”

“Thank you doctor.” you cry. “Can I see him?”

“One of you can sit with him in recovery. Once he wakes up we'll move him to a normal room and then we can allow three at a time.”

“Go...be with him. Let us know if you need anything. We'll be right out in the waiting room.” Lily urged.

You nervously follow the doctor down the long hallway and he opens a door. Slowly you walk in, “Ty...” you whisper softly, taking a seat next to his bed and holding his hand in yours. This time his hand felt warm, tender, and strong. You allowed yourself to smile slightly. It might be a hard road ahead, but things were going to be okay. “I love you.” you whisper, kissing his hand.

“Love you too Darling.” his voice was weak, low and raspy, but he was opening those gorgeous green eyes and looking at you. “I am sorry I wasn't there. I tried.”

“Shh, it's okay. I am sorry for all the terrible things I said...”

“I forgive you. Actually, I deserved it.” he took a few deep breaths, fighting off the urge to go back to sleep. “Y/N...I need you in my life. I need you by my side. You are my world. You are...”

“your anchor in the storm?” you finish, holding up the ring box.

He smiled the biggest smile ever, “You found it!” then he frowned, “But you aren't wearing it? Does that mean...does that mean the answer is no?”

“I don't know. You haven't asked me the question yet.” you grin.

“Y/N...will you marry me?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

“Yes, Tyler Owens. Yes I will marry you.” You lean over, kissing his lips softly.

“Give me that.” he takes the ring from you and slips it on your figure. “I love you with all my heart.”

“That's good to hear, because I have something I need to tell you too.”

“What's that?”

You smile, taking his hand and placing it on your stomach, “In about 7 months there's going to be a little tornado coming into this world.”

Tyler was crying, but this time it was tears of happiness as he pulled you down into a hug. “I am the happiest man on earth right now.” he sobbed. “Together, we can weather any storm. “

* * * *

The End

* * * *

[urfavlarry]

hi!! i’m not sure if you saw but sbg released a new episode!

i totally get if your still not taking requests for it, but i would love to see you write smthn with sick!tyler x reader (or the other way around) and whoever isn’t sick is just like super doting and caring.

i love your writing sm, your style is so engaging!!

Sickeningly sweet୧ ‧₊˚🩺 ⋅

Tyler Hernández x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: taking care of a sick and very stubborn Tyler!

A/N: WOAHH GUESS WHOS BACK?!? Did y’all miss me? >;D I feel so bad for this person they probably forgot about requesting this but.. it’s out now! Sorry if it’s short, I tried a new style so hope it’s aesthetically pleasing for everyone haha. anyways enjoy!!

Translations: mi Alma = my soul/my soulmate

— The flu. The deadliest of diseases to every man on this planet, making them lay in bed all day moping and whining through coughs and loud sneezes. That was the case for Tyler. He hasn’t been feeling well for a few days now, so Taylor decided to call you over because she said she couldn’t handle his pissy attitude much longer. You agreed without a word, coming by their house to check on the mess your boyfriend has become and boy was her description of his attitude spot on. He refused to take his medicine, whined whenever you woke him up to eat and was so careless that he threw his tissues wherever he wanted.

You sighed, pouring him the medicine for what felt like the hundredth time that day and inched the spoon closer to his mouth. He looked at you with those tired, puffy eyes, furrowing his brows at the bitter liquid he hated oh so much.

“No.”

You look at him in disbelief but take a deep breath to calm your nerves. You loved your boyfriend to the moon and back, willing to put your life on the line for him but when he was sick he was just unbearable.

“Ty, please for gods sake take the medicine.”

He shook his head, looking away from you like an angry child and huffed. You sigh, putting the medicine away. You sat on the edge of his bed in silence, your mind blank. Tyler noticed your quiet demeanour, rolling his eyes before pulling you on the bed with the little strength his sick body had. He lied down on top of you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Accepting your fate, you let him snuggle up to you, playing with his hair and humming to yourself since your phone was on the other side of the room and you doubt he’d let you go any time soon. He slowly dozes off, his grip loosens so you take the opportunity and get out of his grasp. You take the medicine again, lifting his head just a bit and put the spoon in his mouth. He swallowed but cursed a bit, rolling to his side and got back to sleeping.

You smiled softly, leaving him to rest for a while longer. He was slowly getting better each day and if he rested and took his medicine tomorrow he should be fine in about 2 days.

A few hours later, you cooked some soup with Tylers mom and Taylor, chatting away when you heard a door creak open. Tyler came into view, his hair messy and clothes soaked in sweat. You cringed slightly but dragged him to the bathroom, running him a bath. He hugged your body from behind, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’ before letting go. You were about to leave when he mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You turned to see him already in the bath tub and raise a brow.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” He asks and furrows his brow, here it was again, his bratty attitude.

“What did you say just now?”

“I said stay!” He whisper-yelled, huffing in annoyance.

You nodded, smiling sweetly at him as you sat down next to the bath tub. You helped wash his hair, his shoulders relaxing under your gentle touch. You talked about random things that came to mind, telling him how the group missed his presence at school and what they were up to. He listened quietly, letting you talk since he loved the sound of your ‘angelic voice’ as he would put it.

You wash the rest of the soap away from his hair and leave the bathroom so he could get changed, going back to the kitchen to help out. You poured yourself and Tyler some soup, the bowls warming up as the boiling liquid was poured inside. You smiled, Tylers mom thanking you before going to the living room with her own bowl of soup along with Taylor. The sick boy finally showed himself, his sweatpants hanging loosely on his waist and his shirt was messily put on. Even tho you’ve dated for about half a year now you still blushed every time you saw him in such a state, or when he gave you kisses.. these gestures still made your stomach do flips and act like a 12 year old girl.

Tyler noticed your flushed state and walked over to you, kissing your cheek before sitting down to eat. You looked away, shoving a spoon full of soup in your mouth to distract yourself. He chuckled softly, making you look at him to see his soft smile. It wasn’t often he smiled like this with the group, always trying to be tough and he was mostly moody but he made exceptions from time to time.

“Thank you for taking care of me, I couldn’t have asked for a better partner then you.” He said and hugged your back, burying his head into your neck.

You smiled, putting away the dishes and turned around to hug him back. He was still a bit warm, but you could tell him temperature went down a good amount. He went to give you a kiss but you stopped him, putting your pointer finger on his lips.

“Nuh uh, no kisses for you, you’re still sick.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrist and put his other arm on the counter, caging you with his body. You knew it would be easy to get away, his body was still weak after all but you let him have his way just this once, completely ignoring the fact you would definitely get sick after this.

“A few germs won’t stop me from kissing mi Alma.”

He said with a little smirk on his face, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled, cupping his cheeks before pulling away. He picked you up, walking to his bedroom and throwing you on the bed. You rolled your eyes, going to get up but you were stopped by Tyler laying himself on top of you.

“Ty, I need to go home my mom and dad will be worried.” You say with a groan, but he just shrugged, telling you to deal with it.

“You can stay the night, I’m sure they don’t mind. Your mom loves me anyway and your dad calls me son so it’s fine.”

You sigh, tangling your hand in his already messy hair without another word. He hummed, satisfied with the fact you stayed and slowly fell into the arms of unconsciousness once more. You too started to feel tired, letting your body rest after the long day of ‘playing nurse’.

Who would’ve guessed that the next morning you would be the one waking up with a raging head ache and a sore throat while Tyler was as energetic as he ever was, teasing you to no end. It was his turn to be so sickeningly sweet to you that you would get better in no time.

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

[toomiieimagiines]

hihihi

uhm so am i allowed to request again (i don’t wanna spam) 😭😭🙏

and if i am can u pls do a rui x hopeless romantic best friend reader (i’m totally normal about best friends to lovers lmfao)

so like the reader is always yapping about hot guys and it’s a little angsty at first because rui is thinking to himself ‘why did i have to fall inlove with someone that won’t ever choose me’ and then one day a hot guy comes up to reader and asks her out, reader is about to say yes but then she realises that she barely knew him and there was someone (rui) who had been by her side since day one and she figures out who she really loves (RUIII) so she rejects him and when rui asks why she just hugs him and says ‘because your the one i really want’ mwah mwah i feel like such a genius (i really hope this made sense lmao be prepared for a million bestie-> lovers and angst-> fluff rui requests 😼)

thank youyoyoyoyoyuuu!!

hi guys! i’m so so incredibly sorry for how inactive i have been! unfortunately, the fanfic writer curse caught up to me, and i’ve had considerably bad things happen to me! ToT

i had developed a really bad addiction after a recent episode - which may be why i’ve loved to write my characters so miserable, but they get a happy ending in the end - and have recently relapsed after a couple months. i’ve also been struggling with a lot of things, like being bullied again, pressure from theater, classes, autism, parental issues, memory of past trauma, having no friends, things like that. i’ve just been having a really hard time, so writing has been super difficult for me. i’m currently having some of the worst mental health in my life, and am un-recovering from other things i’ve had in the past too, after seeing the results of my recovery. sorry if this triggered anybody, i just needed to get this off my chest, and felt also that i should explain where i have been. you all supporting me has kept me going, and i hope you enjoy this one too! LETS END THE PITY PARTY!!!

in other - not so depressing news - here you guys go!! sorry for OOCness, obviously this is a more dramatic approach to a story! happy ending, j tried to write the inner narration differently for how you two were feeling at the time.. and ty once again for such a great idea, mama ^3^

“I don’t think I could stand to be where you don’t see me.”

If he has to sit here and listen to this one more time, he thinks he’ll go insane.

Rui Kamishiro loves you. He truly does. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, his-

Never mind.

Rui loves you, but he absolutely HATES your taste in guys, and it’s driving him nuts. Nodding and agreeing can only get him so far before he wants to rip his own hair out, and tonight is no exception.

“I give up! All boys are dumb, I don’t need them!” You lament, resting your chin in your hands. It’s the same song and dance over and over. You swear off boys, you get attention, you get sucked in, and he has to pick up the pieces when it inevitably fails. How many times has he thought about how much better he would treat you now? He doesn’t know. He’d be a classical lover, he’d never speak to you the way those stupid unprincipled high school boys do.

Gross. That’s his best friend, why’d he think that? And when did he start being so self confident? He really outta look at himself in the mirror. What an egomaniac he’s turning out to be.

He shakes his head.

“You do know I’m still a boy, right?” He prods, trying to cheer you up. He knows this situation well, and he knows exactly how to make you feel better. Again he’d pull you out of this, and again he’d watch you fall in love.

He wishes you could be happy. He wishes you weren’t in love with being in love. You’re too pure for true love, love is disgusting, depraved, and unkind. You’re not anything like that.

“I know, I know, but you’re the only good one!” You point, words self-assured. “I don’t need a boyfriend, you do everything boyfriendy for me anyway!”

Ouch. Thanks a lot, that’s exactly what he needed to hear right now. He’s not gonna dwell on that last bit for now, he’ll wait until he’s home. Then he can- he doesn’t know. Cry, or something juvenile like that.

“So I’m back-up-boyfriend?” He masks himself in jest, smiling teasingly at you.

“Eh, maybe,” you snicker, “you’d definitely be cute if you weren’t my friend.”

He turns to his school work sharply, trying to mask his complete and utter despair. Ugh, why does he have to be so dramatic? His own personality makes his skin crawl with disgust and hatred, and that only makes him cringe more. He could think about how obnoxious he is all day. Maybe he should use that go home and cry pass early. He pretends to check the time, as if that isn’t all he’s been doing.

“It’s getting late, after this problem I should get going.” He mutters, scribbling some random numbers into his notebook. You yawn in response, being broken out of absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.

“Ugh, I wish you didn’t have to go!” You drape an arm over his torso, trying to hold him in. He smiles fondly, wrestling to get you off of him.

“I’d have to walk home in the dark then, do you want that?” He knows you’d never let him, and he sees it immediately.

Your face looks knowing, and you let him go right away. It amuses him at first, but quickly fills him with overwhelming pity. You’re so kindhearted it makes him sick. You shouldn’t worry about someone like him, it’s bad for your health.

“Would you like me to walk home with you?!” You shoot up, the idea of him not being safe running through your head. Maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. How emasculating! He’s not a helpless young girl! He’s just as manly as those boys who you long for, he’s not a puppy to be walked!

God, is jealously turning him into a bigot? He shakes his head once again, this time not just to clear his thoughts. He’s absolutely not letting you walk him home, it’d be mortifying. He takes your attention belly up, you should have a break. Maybe some time to yourself for a change? God, Rui, get a grip.

“I’m fine, I don’t want you out late by yourself either,” he assures, looking at you in haste.

“Ah. You have a point.”

“I always do.” He means more to that, and he wishes he could tell you. He wants you to see that even he knows what he’s talking about. He needs you to see him, just for once. Not as a best friend, or backup boyfriend, just as a regular one. As a lover who dances in the rain, or ties your shoes

He needs to stop. He shouldn’t think about you like that. It’s lecherous.

You two exchange goodbyes, giving him a long hug (much to his horror). He hates how feverish it is it hold you like this, it makes him feel guilty. His body gets hot, his cheeks flare up, his throat feels tight- it makes him feel like a pervert, even if his thoughts are the farthest thing from lewd.

He feels that everything he thinks about you is repulsive, though.

“Be safe”’s and “See you later”’s are passed between you two, and he walks down your front steps, now completely alone. His eyes scan the damp pavement, seeing the golden hues from the sky light the boring rock. That’s how he feels about you, he decides. You’re the sun, and he’s the pavement. He humors himself by thinking that your suitors are the clouds, stopping you from shining your light for him so he can grow weeds in the cracks of his soul. That’s what these feelings are. Weeds.

He wants to live life beautifully with you, he decides. He wants to tie your shoes, he wants to twirl you as you dance.

He wishes he could be the moon. Something of consequence- of importance, but he’s just the pavement. Not the earth, not the stars, not the clouds, or rain, he’s just a man made monster who destroys nature - you - and is walked over by people who do matter.

He should quit being this way, he grumbles, it doesn’t do anybody any good to be so flowery. He’s too girly- too weak. Maybe that’s why you don’t like him. If you’re willing to date anything that moves other than him, that must mean he’s on a completely new level, huh?

That’s what dreaming gets you, Rui. Crushed dreams and embarrassment.

He lets out a pitiful sigh, kicking a pebble with his shoe. He sees a worm in a lawn which reminds him of himself, he sees a couple shopping for a new game which reminds him of you, he sees a convenience store which reminds him that he’s hungry-

His life can be so mundane sometimes, what a drag.

He’s about to reach his front door, when he steps into a puddle. It feels like an appropriate representation of his life right now. A sense of disgraceful hilarity washes over him, and he begins to laugh. He laughs a while, he laughs as he takes his shoes off, he laughs as he peels his button up down, and he laughs as he lays in his bed. How dramatic he could be some times!

He falls asleep quickly. He has a dream about being on stage and forgetting his lines.

He wakes up with a thud, he fell out of bed. How embarrassing. He decides to check his phone.

Weirdo: RUII

Weirdo: wanna hang w me 2day?? u don’t have dance time right??

Weirdo: gonna kill you. WAKE UP

Me: I’m awake, sorry!

Weirdo: finally sleeping beauty

Weirdo: wanna get a snack? i’m simply starved…

Me: When?

Weirdo: an hr maybe…

Me: Okay :) I’ll tell you when I leave.

Weirdo: kay!!

He really doesn’t feel like being social today, but he’d never pass up an opportunity to see you. He’s an obscene degenerate when it comes to you, pouncing on your attention like a sick dog. It’s mortifyingly pathetic.

He gets dressed, throwing on a boring striped sweater. It’s getting colder outside recently, and he’s always ran cold anyway. His hands are shaky and nervous as he brushes his teeth, the anxiousness to see you making his body jittery. He considers breakfast, but quickly shuts the idea down. He doesn’t want to be stressed out - at least more than he already is - when he sees you. Twitchy hands lock his door, and he gets a few feet away before he double checks that he did, in fact, lock it. Pull yourself together, Rui! He screams at himself.

The walk is just as unexciting as he expected, albeit a bit chilly. He’s feeling thankful for the sweater. The breeze runs its hands through his hair, and he’s reminded that winter is coming. He always liked Autumn flowers the best, hibiscus flowers are pretty too, he supposes. It’s nice to have the warmth of the sun soothing his cold hands during summer, for sure.

He trips over a rock on the way, and his pants get wet on the knees. Khaki blends into an ugly brown, and he sighs. How unlucky, would anything go right for him today?

Turns out it will, you look really good today.

You great him at the door, practically buzzing with eagerness. It makes him smile, knowing that you do, in fact, want to see him. Or at least are acting like it. You’re a good friend to him, he’s lucky to have you.

“Rui!” You hug him as a greeting, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His heart soothes, eyes closing in relaxation. Problems feel obscure and distant when you two are like this, despite his reluctance last night. He can forget about corrupt feelings - or misguided love- and he can just be your best friend. Despite his apprehension to be cared for, he is flattered that you, at least, seem to like him.

“Hey.” He breaths you in, his voice soft. He hopes you don’t notice, it’s embarrassing.

“Hey!” You reply, pulling away. “Big things planned, Rui!”

“What big things?” He asks, amused. “Big things” for you were junk food and shopping.

“Big things! It’s a surprise!” You put your shoes on, and he can’t help but feel jealous as he watches your hands tie them dutifully. He sighs, stretching. He decides to make it a challenge to act normal the whole day. No weird thoughts are going to beguile his mind, he promises himself.

You lock your front door, twisting the knob to make sure that it did, in fact, lock. This fills him with a child-like sense of delight, maybe you two really were similar.

Nah, not possible. You’re too pure - too perfect. Ugh, Rui, no more stupid thoughts.

He watches you check the time, make a face at a nearby bird, and cover your cheeks with your hands. You suddenly perk up, wrapping your arms around him.

“Warm me up, will ya?” You scowl at the cool air, grip tightening. He gulps. It’s weird he reacts like this, considering you two have done things like this all the time. It’s normal, so why does he have to be such a creep? His arms wrap around yours, running his hands up and down to create heat.

“Should’ve worn a jacket,” he chides, “wouldn’t be cold, y’know?” His voice is so casual, like everything is totally fine. It is fine. Fine, fine, fine.

“Gotta look good. I’m on the hunt, obviously,” you joke. It isn’t funny to him, but he lets out a laugh.

“You’re hopeless.”

You two stop at a convenience store first, and you all but sprint to the drinks. He had this ritual down to a science. You grab two different color slushies, and he grabs whatever odd snack catches your collective stomachs eye today. Today the two of you decide to split a cookie, and walk to the counter. The cashier gives you a smirk, and he averts his eyes.

“This it?” The boy cocks his head, and you get the memo. You immediately jump on the opportunity.

“Mhm!” You wink, resting your chin in your hands while leaning against the counter. In all honestly, he wasn’t even that cute. At least, that’s what Rui kept telling himself.

“Don’t worry about it, than. I got you guys,” he waves you off. Score! You think, but he adds. “If I can get your number.” Rui feels like falling into the floor, how awkward! You just scribble it onto a stray receipt, winking.

“Thank you! You’re the sweetest!!” You singsong, skipping along with Rui following suite. You immediately burst into laughter, throwing a fake punch at Rui. “What a weirdo! Like I’d call him over what, 1000 yen?! I don’t even know him, yuck!”

So you did have some sense, he feels like letting out a sigh of relief. You hold your hands out.

“Which one do you want? I got your favorite!!” You look so proud, and he wants to laugh. His “favorite” isn’t actually his favorite, but he’d never tell you that.

The lie started one day in middle school, when the two of you suddenly had a weird craving for slushies. When you picked them out, you had gotten a red one and a blue one, and asked him what he wanted. While he really didn’t like red, he knew you liked blue, so he said red. Now for the past four years, you’ve always ended up getting him a red one, thinking it was his favorite. He’ll deal with it for you. Seeing your blue tongue stick out with brain freeze is better than any sugary drink anyway.

“Red, duh.” He scoffs playfully, taking a sip of it. The taste doesn’t really bother him all that much anymore. It reminds him of you.

You always let him divide the snacks, thinking he gives himself the bigger half. He never does, but he eats slower so you think he did. You skip along, enjoying it.

“Y’know, this isn’t bad. Wish they had the brownie, though. That never does us wrong.” God, don’t make him think of the ‘crack brownies’ - as you two call them. Those are great, and he likes them, so you never miss an opportunity to shove them down his throat.

“Don’t complain. Remember the egg roll incident?” He points, laughing at the memory. You two steer clear of that section now, having gotten sick.

“Ugh, I haven’t thought about that in a while! I’m never eating an egg roll again after that day! Ugh,” you gag.

Moments of silly memories like this make him feel like he’s known you forever. He can’t even remember a moment where he hasn’t loved you.

“Where’re we going now, commander?” He salutes, following the trail of sunshine you left behind.

“Where ever the wind blows us, kind sir!” You salute back, pushing him along. Your constant checks of your phone don’t go unnoticed by him, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Who’re you texting? Don’t tell me it’s that guy.” He tries to sound casual, knocking his shoulder against yours playfully.

“‘M not a total idiot, I’ll have you know!” You huff, holding your phone to your chest. “It’s just somebody we went to school with a while back, ‘m seeing if I can pull the moves.”

“Do I know him?”

“Dunno, never saw you two talking, so maybe not. He was in my english class, remember, the only class we didn’t have together?”

“Ah.”

You two walk in silence, except for when he yanks you back from the collar so you don’t walk into oncoming traffic, which amuses you greatly. You two soon arrive at the small mall, and he tails you as you run with excitement. You two browse everything, constantly pointing out cute plushies, or interesting keychains.

“Rui, look! Look!” You shake him, pointing to the back of somebody’s head inconspicuously. “Wait don’t yet- Okay, now! He’s turning around! That’s the guy! What a coincidence we see him here, right? Do you recognize him?”

Ha. Yeah, he knows this guy. He definitely knows him. He’s the one who would trip him during passing periods, he’s the one who left flowers on his desk. They make eye contact, and it’s like all of his growth left his body. He’s just the same freak from middle school, he’s still thirteen.

He shudders at the guys smirk, sensing that he definitely knows that Rui knows him. He jogs over to the two of you, and Rui already knows what’s about to happen, due to the lopsided smile on your face.

Damnit, this is the first time he doesn’t think he can act like it’s okay.

“Oh wow, what a coincidence! Must be fate we run into each other like this, ehe…” You giggle awkwardly, a dumb expression gracing your face. It’s painful seeing you that way for anybody other than him, and he looks away awkwardly.

“Must be.” He answers, swaggering closer towards you. Rui thanks whatever God above because - despite his current situation - at least this asshole didn’t go to highschool with you guys.

He looks down at his shoes, and tries to shuffle away, knowing this jackass is about to say something. He’s quickly stopped.

“Who’s this, huh? Feel like a recognize him from somewhere…” He trails off, smirking through his nose as he turns his attention to him. “Have we met before?”

“This is Kamishiro Rui, he’s my friend! He went to middle school with us, remember?” You happily answer for him.

Ha, friend? What happened to back-up boyfriend? He’s a little hurt, to be honest.

He feels bitter, it’s unbecoming- God, he doesn’t care. He should feel bad for getting so angry over it, it’s not like you belong to him. He’s such a freak, getting attached to you like this.

He starts to pick at his fingers, then he plays with a loose string on his sweater. You two continue to chat like nothings wrong, and he keeps thinking. It’s something he’s gotten good at recently.

He stops feeling bad about himself for a second- a split second where he resents you, and wishes his pain upon you. Wants you to know what it’s like to be so disgustingly, guiltily, revoltingly obsessed with someone. In this split second, he can’t even find it in himself to feel guilty about it, which is unlike him. He wishes you felt love like this, that you were as psychotic about it.

But this doesn’t last long, because he remembers that he loves you more than anything. He’s lucky to be your friend. You’re a great friend, you’re an amazing person, you’re the sun, the sun, the sun.

He’s the pavement, he has to remember.

“I’m- I’ll leave you to it, y’know? Fabric store.” He stutters, choking on his voice. You don’t even notice, waving him off.

You do, however, remember to press his shoulder, uttering an absentminded “Okay, Rui, bye,” and he remembers again how perfect you are for doing it subconsciously. He lets himself feel the touch, long after he’s walked away. He deserves it after the trouble he’s reliving.

When he makes it to the fabric store - which he really didn’t need anything from, Nene had gotten some the other day - he can’t help himself from wishing he could just go home. Malls were always overwhelming already, and now his saving grace has the attention of another man. He walks through aisles, but realizes that he now has to buy something.

‘Least he knows that social cue, he laughs bitterly, running his hands across his face in frustration. He’s so ridiculous.

Meanwhile, you were chatting up a storm. It was your first time talking in person since middle school, after all! You feel giddy for a while, but it cuts abruptly. You feel a strange sense of urgency, something’s missing.

Oh, your best friend.

But where had he gone? You’re sure he was just here. You smile apologetically at the cute boy, putting on your best performance.

“Oh, I better go get my friend now. I don’t like walking home when it’s late. Was nice seein’ you, let’s hang out soon, ‘kay?” You singsong, stepping closer. You want to give yourself a pat on the back, you’re so cute.

He rolls his eyes, and you’re hit with a wave of uneasiness. That noise he made sounds strangely dismissive, he’s not the kind of guy to be a jerk though, you must be hearing things-

“Leave ‘im. Between you and me, he was a total freak in middle school. Probably is now, too. Probably likes you or somethin’, total nutcase.” His voice sounds so casual, like it’s not the douchiest thing you’ve heard all day.

You let other men walk all over you, sure. You let them cheat on you, lie, whatever. But you’re not about to stand here and insult Rui. He’s the only untouched thing in your life - the only person who isn’t cruel. He’s so gangly and awkward, but in the best way. You could live a million times and not be able to deserve him, at least you think so. He’s so unusual, and that’s what you love most about him. Little things like not liking loud lights, or liking the red slushies the best, make your heart buzzy with familiarity. He’s the one constant in your life.

You’ve been awfully worried about him recently, though. His particularly (as you like to call it) has gone to the an extreme, and it’s been a battle getting him to eat real food. You’re not blind, you see the way he’s been spacing out, or tapping a little too much. You just thought he’d been overwhelmed. He worries you to death sometimes, but despite all of his own struggles, he always seems to not care about it, deciding to always be there for you instead. Ah, he’s just such an amazing guy - no, not guy, he’s not anything like those other boys you talk to. He’d never insult someone like that. He’s not just a guy, he’s like your person.

Yeah, he’s definitely your person.

Your heart sputters at the thought, and you feel something you’ve never really felt before - save for hugs between the two of you that lasted just a second too long, or words a little too romantic. The feeling makes your mind fuzzy, and your heart hurt terribly with something you could only place as homesickness.

Oh.

“I,” you begin, backing away. “Yeah, I’m sorry but I’ll really be going now-“

“What? C’mon I was just messing with you, even though having guy friend’s kinda weird.” He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah whatever, I’ll call you back,” you say dismissively.

You’re totally lying, you laugh, you’re not calling him back.

He didn’t seem to like that.

“Damn, can’t even joke around with you people. Whatever, weirdo, sorry I insulted your little boyfriend.” The change in tone amuses you.

Yeah, good riddance, pal.

You turn away, walking through the mall with pace. It takes a while, but you spot him watching a pet stores aquarium.

He’s a funny one.

You wave your hands, trying to get his attention. He swallows, knowing that it’s probably to ask him if it’s cool to walk home by himself. Emotions are stupid, and ironically, you both think that at the same time.

“Rui! Rui! Hey c’mon, let’s go home, yeah?” You smile, face feeling warm. It’s a different feeling from when you usually talk to him. He looks at you, a little shocked. He had assumed you were smiling wide because you set up a date, so he turns his head.

“Where is he, huh?” He looks away, back to the fish tank. You shift in place, was he mad at you? You’re a little irritated at the mention of the guy, though, and huff.

“Don’t worry about that. Seems like I only attract douchebags, so I decided to go.” You explain, poking his shoulder. “Hey,” you start, “let’s just walk home, I wanna talk to you about something.” The idea makes you feel dizzy, but you’ll have to illustrate your feelings one day.

You can leave out the “I think I’m in love with you” part, you think.

The two of you walk in an excruciating silence, staring down at the reflection of the setting sun in the puddles. His heart tightens, remembering his earlier comparison. Even now, you’re so perfect. Even if he’s frustrated with you - despite you turning down the guy in the end (he doesn’t know why, he wanted to ask) - even if he’s ready to scream, and cry, and ask you what it is he did for you to be so turned off by him, he still thinks you’re the most heavenly, divine person to ever grace his view. He wants to be where you see him, he wants to be in your orbit.

“You’re like the sun-“ He blurts out, immediately regretting it. He didn’t mean to say that, God, he’s so fucking stupid. He sees you stop walking, smiling that same stupid, dopey, lopsided smile that he’s always so jealous of-

Oh. It’s for him.

He chokes, stopping to meet you eye-to-eye. You look up at him too, laughing giddily.

“What does that mean?”

He sputters, stepping away. “N-no it’s nothing- It was stupid anyway so-“

“No, tell me!” You urge, laughing a little harder. “What if it was something bad, ‘nd you were making fun of me? That’s not nice, Rui!”

“I- Hey-“ His voice goes a touch higher, a defensive tone rising. “That’s not-“

“Then tell me.”

“It’s just,” he breaths, trying to word it in the least creepy way possible. How does convey the fact that he sees you as a divine presence, that he sees himself as a worthless creature compared to you, without sounding like he’s hopelessly possessed by love for you? “I just- you’re so amazing,” he starts, “I thought of this stupid thing the other day when I was walking home - you know how I am - and well, I just thought of you when the sun reflected off the pavement - since it rained, y’know? - and well, it just- Sorry, it was dumb-“ He rambles, covering his face in anguish.

Nobody’s ever put that much thought into you. Sure, you’ve received a few ‘You’re so gorgeous’’s, where you’ve had to wonder where they learnt such a “big word”, but never something as poetic as that. The usual Rui-ratic explanation endeared you to him even more. You look at him, the smile never leaving. He’s just… so Rui. His stupid striped sweater, his half up hair - that you’d begged him to grow out - his eyes, whatever. Everything about him you treasure, and little do you know he cherished you even that more intensely.

“I think you’re the moon, Rui. Or maybe the earth, since I take care of you, hah!” You snicker, stepping closer to him. He takes a step back in return, and you grab his hands to make him stay put. His heart throbs, and he almost goes crashing down.

“I.. I don’t-“

You yank his hands, making him look back up at you. “Hey, Rui, I,” you look at him assuringly, “I wanna say something, and you can’t laugh okay?”

He holds his breath, so do you.

Fuck it, just tell him.

“I think I’m in love with you, Rui.” You gaze at him, the words shooting out faster than you can second guess them.

“I don’t-“ He breaks away, his fists balling up. You messed up, you think, you really, really messed up. “I’m not- I’m not going to- You can’t just say that because you got rejected. I- It wouldn’t be nice to- You don’t love me-“

“Rui,” you beg, grabbing his arm again, “holding hands on the way to school, cuddling while doing homework, knowing everything about eachother, these aren’t-“ You breath, “I’ve wanted somebody to love me for so long, Rui, and I was so blind to the fact that I was loved. But the love that I felt for you, - that I feel for you - Rui, isn’t the kind where I can be- where I can just be so- so normal about those things!” You monologue, saying whatever’s on your mind. You’re the rambling one now.

“I found myself comparing you to these piece-of-garbage dude’s I’m always with, wishing I could just date somebody like you instead! But now I realize that it is you-“

His heart falls into his gut, and he breaks free from you again. His hands move to his face, covering his eyes. His voice is broken and cracky as he begins to cry. “That was- you-“ He pulls you into a desperate embrace, arms holding you like you’ll disappear. “You shouldn’t, you’re wrong.” He sobs, “I’m- the way I love you is- You don’t understand, the way I feel isn’t normal I- My love is disgusting, and horrible, and depraved-“ He shakes, you rub his back. “You are so perfect compared to me, I’d never be able to- I love you so much, more than friends are supposed to, more than anyone’s supposed to at our age-“

“Rui, hey Rui please don’t cry.” You beg, smoothing out the ridges in his sweater. “I don’t- I don’t agree with that, and I can scream that at you, but I’m sure you won’t believe me. You’re not disgusting for feeling emotions different, Rui that’s what I love about you.”

“Stop- stop saying my name like that. It’s too hard to-“

“Rui, I love you. You don’t need to accept it, but I love you. More than being in love, more than being loved-“

“I love you, too,” his voice cracks, “that’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to ruin a friendship that’s all I have, if this is just- I’m scared I’d lose you in any way, and I can’t live in a world where you don’t see me. I won’t. It’s sounds horrible but-“ He stops as you pull away from the hug, and wipes his face hastily. You put your pinky out, and his stomach drops again.

“C’mon, just like when we were kids. Pinky promise that no matter what, we’ll always see each other. That way you don’t need to worry anymore, y’know? I never break my kissy pinky promises, ever.”

Just like when you two were little.

He locks his with yours, just like you taught him all those years ago. He remembers your shared handshake for theater, he remembers your shared handshake for testing, and he remembers the song you two had to duet for choir - when you have forced him into it for a year. He holds everything of you so dear to his heart, you endear everything about him to you as well.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I see you.”

“I see you, too.”

You two kiss your hands, then bring them down, still interlinked. You stare at him, and he stares back at you. In a moment of profound sincerity, you lean forward, and kiss him. It’s slow and gentle, and you unlock your hands half way through to hold his face, which he mirrors. His heart settles for the first time. You see him. He’s your moon, your earth, you’re his sun, his stars.

He’s suddenly alarmed by a quick pushing off of him, gasping out a “Rui!”

“I-“ he pants, wiping his mouth. “Hm?”

“we’re in the middle of a park!”

[frigidwife]

i would like to ask ur opinion on this bc u are one of maybe 5-6 iwtv blogs that i trust and i don't know if i am simply biased but i think u are very thoughtful and fair in ur analysis of iwtv. because even among self-proclaimed louis lovers/understanders, i have seen the idea that louis "could not and would not" save claudia from the fire, or choose her over armand, or that louis was also abusive to claudia if not the Most abusive, or that he "let" lestat/armand destroy her. and i agree that louis failed claudia in some ways (though saying that feels much too vague at this point) and that liking characters doesn't mean apologizing for their flaws and i understand the reflex to spotlight claudia's mistreatment as many fans are so quick to dismiss her importance. but i think people get so caught up in emphasizing claudia's tragedy that they end up falling into victim-blaming rhetoric and ironically de-legitimizing really important aspects of her character and impact. so i wanted to ask though, how do you think louis actually did fail claudia? and should we call claudia's death louis' failure?

ty for valuing my opinion 🥹 i agree w you completely people emphasize claudia's tragedy at total expense of her personality...which sucks bc i love her personality...i think louis actually primarily failed claudia in the exact way that every single parent fails their child. if you've read frankenstein it's about the inherent monstrosity of creation--inherent hubris of creating something whether it's a creature, a work of art (the novel itself!), or a child (shelley's miscarriages and her relationship with her parents haunt the novel). you create something that is a part of you and a mirror of you, you confer your expectations as naturally as breathing, even with the best of intentions, but now the creature/novel/child exists outside of you, outside of your body and your imagination, autonomous, with desires and effects you couldn't have dreamt of, and there is something terrifying and painful in that chasm even in the best of conditions. and this is more broadly true of loving anyone. and in that sense i don't think louis's turning of claudia is really more selfish than having a child ever is. it's not an aberrant or evil desire. so that's one layer.

and then the next layer is the conditions. louis cannot stop seeing claudia as his daughter, even if he calls her sister. she'll always be his daughter. and again this is an almost fundamental condition of being a parent. even if ur parents make an effort--and louis is making an effort--to see you as equals, that foundation is underlying it and can't come undone. the problem is that normally, even if maybe you're always a baby to your mom deep down, you're also functionally an adult in the real world. but claudia is an adult who is constantly belittled and condescended to and treated as a child from all corners. so she goes from louis who can't see her as her own person because he cant stop being her parent to an outside world that can't see her as her own person bc it's structured to deny children's autonomy, and girls' in particular, and especially black girls'. AND THEN the abuse. “you chose lestat over her again and again” i think people take daniel as word of god a lot even when the show has demonstrated that daniel is less than careful talking and thinking about abuse, when it comes to both louis and claudia. Louis chooses to take lestat back, can’t kill him for good, chooses to commit to armand, tells her to put up with the coven’s abuse. those are choices that hurt claudia terribly. but they also exist in the context of abuse. over two decades of debilitating destroying violence and then a new man who tracks him down and dangles his and claudia’s life over him as penalty from the jump. louis is constantly calculating risk based on what they’ve experienced and the same way claudia’s trauma drives her into the waiting arms of a cult, louis’s means he sees enduring as his strongest means of survival . and even from before that from keeping his family afloat under jim crow —performance, self sacrifice at the expense of closeness with grace and paul; using “weakness to rise”. so when louis tells claudia to endure its bc he cannot imagine a way out. which is a failure sure and something claudia can and does resent him deeply for but is entirely and categorically different from what lestat and armand inflict on her . his “choosing armand” is never really about him liking armand particularly it’s him deciding he knows what’s best for both of them—again seeing claudia as his child—to the extent that he won’t even tell her about armand knowing their secret.

this isn’t selfless it’s foolish it’s prideful but the story very clearly is not Louis picking a man over his daughter. (claudia calls out what he wants in a companion in 2.01—“if he can’t call you pretty and take you ballroom dancing” Armand won’t even light his cigarette). i think people have constructed this narrative which funnily enough is the exact same one armand uses to gaslight louis with in 2.05 ("you threw around her name for cover, but you always went back to talking about him" or something like that). Which is really obviously a victim blaming narrative lol like the amount of joke posts that r essentially saying Maybe if louis wasn’t so cock hungry his daughter wouldn’t be dead. Okay?? i think its absolutely fucking insane to call her death louis's particular failure when she was lynched. by armand

and you can tell by episode 6 claudia has realized louis isn’t picking armand over her. her frustration with him is with this martyrdom that she never asked for or wanted, that clearly isn’t “you and me” either. Like you cannot tell me she believes “imagine me without the burden of her” means louis is happy and relieved to see her go Bc she’s not stupid and she’s seen him happy before. If she really thought he meant something like that she wouldn’t behave towards him as she does in the rest of ep 6 and doing the trial. completely ignoring her personality

there is also a hopefully really small subset of people who think pointing out how patriarchy works Is gender essentialism who posit louis as the primary perpetrator of misogynoir in order to justify their fundamental queer human right to call lestat femme . and then expect pats on the back for acknowledging #intersectionality . which is. absurd.

[darsynia]

New (Nomad Steve/Nurse!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: As soon as two weeks ago he’d have said that keeping to himself was the easiest part of his life right now… but that was before he met you.

Word Count/Warnings: 2,400 | None

As 1/7 of my Birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, NEw is a first kiss hurt/comfort fic about writing your own happy endings. It's a hugely busy week for you and there's no pressure to respond right now, they'll all be here when you have time!

Excerpt:

Lately it feels like exhaustion is your religion. Stay up way too late, stumble home confused and euphoric and try to will yourself to sleep, then wake up and perform miracles to get yourself back to the hospital for your shift. You’ve always been a night owl, but your shift supervisor practically considers you the ward’s brand ambassador, and to keep the peace, you agreed to stay on the day shift. You’d gotten the schedule down to a science, right up until a tall, gorgeous complication started to jog at the track after hours.

The name he’d given feels fake, but nothing else about him does, and you know all about needing to distance yourself from the horrible things you’ve seen at work. You suspect he was a soldier until he got out, and after that probably a firefighter, but you’ve never asked. Mostly, you just try to keep up with him. The sum total of the words you’ve spoken to each other probably wouldn’t make for a single meet-cute in a romance novel, but they feel consequential enough to you.

NEW

It takes Steve a painful amount of time to adjust to hiding.

It isn’t just that he’s recognizable, it’s that he’s always stood out, always. As a small baby he’d been gasped over by strangers, as a sickly child he’d see concern and aversion in their eyes, and once he’d grown into a scrawny adult, those reactions had just intensified. 

Some accused him of making himself sick to avoid the war, as though he could have secretly known it was coming and starved himself into stunted growth just in case. For some, it didn’t matter what he looked like-- any man who wasn’t at war was fair game for ridicule. Even those who didn’t care either way found his presence unnerving simply because men his age were scarce. He reminded them of the people they missed, the people who didn’t have the ‘protection’ of being physically unable to join up. 

If his life was a narrative, he’d be the best protagonist he could be.

Even so, there was a special kind of hell in wanting so desperately to fight for justice and be told how lucky you were to be disallowed. Back then, it had been important to him not to hide. There were certainly others in the same boat as he was, men who needed groceries, to watch the news in the theater, to have a walk in the fresh air. So he went out anyway. He was the example, the target, the archetype.

Once he had the serum, hiding meant all the hard work by Doctor Erskine and Howard Stark would be for nothing, so he didn’t. Even in tights.

The symbolism was even stronger when he came out of the ice. Now, people look to him as a lodestar meant to bring them all back to decency and safety, and he wants to, but with action, not iconography, no matter how potent. 

That hadn’t been enough, and now they’re here.

“You’ve been tying your shoes for five minutes, man. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Sam.” Steve finishes up quickly and straightens. “Daydreaming, I guess.”

Sam leans over and looks out through the thin rectangle of night sky visible through the thick curtains. “At this point I think you can just call it dreaming. Stay safe out there.”

Steve watches Sam head off into the kitchen before he slips out of the apartment door and locks it behind him. He and Sam keep nocturnal schedules, but Natasha’s expert-level camouflage skills have netted her a day job that keeps them all afloat. Their plan of moving from community to community taking seasonal jobs has worked well so far. 

This is the most ‘domestic’ of their locations to date; they’re spending the lead-up to Christmas in a small city in the midwest full of people who know how to keep their heads down and get things done. No one’s expecting a trio of superheroes to settle in a satellite town whose main attraction is a vintage bowling alley, but there are other calculations to consider. People make eye contact here. They bring their real selves to the conversation, and Steve’s been struggling with some real guilt about that. 

As soon as two weeks ago he’d have said that keeping to himself was the easiest part of his life right now… but that was before he’d met you.

Lately it feels like exhaustion is your religion. Stay up way too late, stumble home confused and euphoric and try to will yourself to sleep, then wake up and perform miracles to get yourself back to the hospital for your shift. You’ve always been a night owl, but your shift supervisor practically considers you the ward’s brand ambassador, and to keep the peace, you agreed to stay on the day shift. You’d gotten the schedule down to a science, right up until a tall, gorgeous complication started to jog at the track after hours.

The name he’d given feels fake, but nothing else about him does, and you know all about needing to distance yourself from the horrible things you’ve seen at work. You suspect he was a soldier until he got out, and after that probably a firefighter, but you’ve never asked. Mostly, you just try to keep up with him. The sum total of the words you’ve spoken to each other probably wouldn’t make for a single meet-cute in a romance novel, but they feel consequential enough to you.

As it has for the past week, your heart starts racing when you get close to the track. The problem is, you were run ragged today, and you feel just like the mermaid from the original fairy tale. Every single step is like knives stabbing the balls of your feet, and your arches are singing ‘fuck you’ so loudly you expect Ursula to show up any minute.

You stop on the bench right inside the gate to let the burning pain subside a bit. The last thing you want is for your burly new crush to think you’re a lightweight, not now that the months of forcing yourself to run after work have paid off so nicely with… well, him.  

Besides Frank, the school’s night security officer and all-around nicest tough-guy in town, there isn’t anyone else visible on the brightly-lit track. You take the opportunity to cross your ankle over your knee and reach for your shoe in preparation to swap it with the sneakers in your bag. These are a new pair, and you’d planned on wearing them every few days to break them in. As soon as you get your heel off you understand just how much you screwed up by not bringing  the others in to swap into once you realized how go-go-go your day would be. The swelling is bad, and the beginnings of blisters sting in various places. There’s no way in hell you can jog today, and walking home is going to be excruciating. It’s a god-damned miracle you have the day off tomorrow.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” you mutter under your breath. The John F. Kennedy High School campus is the same distance from the bus stop as your apartment is, but in the opposite direction. Your feet had already been screaming, why hadn’t you gone home instead?”

“Thought you weren’t coming!”

Your crush’s voice cuts through the late November chill, warming your heart. You look up and see him crossing from under the bleachers, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. He’s far enough away that you let yourself sigh, half in addlepated pleasure in seeing him, half in utter frustration at yourself. He’s the reason you came, of course. You’d walk across fire to spend time with this guy, and by the time you head home, that’s definitely what it’ll feel like.

“Sorry, long day,” you tell him once he’s close enough. 

Hurrying, you yank off your second shoe and nearly swallow your tongue from the pain. Tears stand in your eyes, exacerbated by the surprise when you look up and your new friend is right there, almost like he'd teleported over. He’s crouched in front of you, and there’s nowhere to hide from his concerned scrutiny.

He confirms your assessment of ex-military by the professional once-over he’s doing, even more so when he takes your shoe out of your weary hand and tests the bend of its sole with a practiced hand.

“Don’t say it--”

“These are not very good shoes,” he pronounces. With a move as graceful as a ballet dancer, he shifts onto the bench beside you, still examining the shoe. You snag it from his hand and tuck it into your backpack with its mate, pulling out your tennis shoes before zipping back up.

There’s no chance you’ll be able to put them on, but, one thing at a time.

“You’re right. I didn’t expect to be the runner on the ward today, but we were shorthanded.” You wince at your feet, both of which are looking decidedly puffy. Shit, will either pair of shoes fit, at this point? “There’s a ‘best foot forward’ joke I could be making about hoping you’d be here running tonight, but honestly, I’m too wiped out to make it.” You look over as you finish speaking and catch his pleased reaction. It’s understated, but it’s there, enough to make you brave. “I have the day off tomorrow, maybe I can give you a twelve hour rain check? I bet you’re even more handsome in sunlight.”

To your dismay, his face falls and he looks down. You turn your head away, unwilling to see the evidence of just how badly you’d gauged this. He’s very clearly not interested.

“Or not! ‘Not’ is also okay, sorry about that, I--”

The words dissolve on your tongue at the gentle touch of his knuckle on your chin, turning your face back toward his in the time-honored tradition of romantic male leads.

“Please don’t-- Running with you has been-- Believe me, during the day-- I would like to, I just can’t.” Disappointment is etched across his handsome features, but more than that, you can see the way his mind is racing just like yours had just seconds ago. The man looks like he’s desperate to rewind to a moment that doesn’t feel like this.

There’s a remedy to that, and after a day of doing your best to fix everything and everyone around you, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to surge up and touch your lips to his. 

You meant to pull back right away, mirroring that thing where a couple knows each other so well that gentle brush is all that’s needed-- but your midnight warrior is still in the middle of the book. His large hand shifts to cup your cheek, holding you still for his head tip where he deepens the kiss and scrambles your brain. It’s impulsive, desperate, and honest. You grab at his clothing, needing to believe this is real, even as the two of you follow kisses with more kisses like you’re saying goodbye in an airport.

“Doesn’t look much like you’re runnin’!” the security guard calls out, his words so distant they almost don’t register at first.

That ends things abruptly, but the two of you don’t move much farther apart than a few inches, his hand still on your face, yours with a handful of his sweatshirt, right over his heart.

“Textbook,” you whisper, flattening your hand out to smooth over his chest. It’s solid muscle under there.

“Oh?” he asks, pulling his hand away swiftly like he’d forgotten how to be a gentleman in his eagerness to touch you. It’s charming as hell.

“This whole operation, it’s right out of the romance novel guidebook,” you praise. “I ought to look for cameras.” A shadow crosses his face, and you suddenly put the pieces together. “Shit, you’re hiding from something, aren’t you? That’s why you freaked out about coming here in the daytime.”

He’s already standing, but instead of stalking away from you, he’s looking around the track, turning in a circle of deep concentration. He’s looking for cameras, but not in a joking way, not as part of a bit.

“The school district would rather spend the money on Frank than cameras, if that’s what you’re looking for,” you murmur, pushing your voice into steadiness out of sheer determination. “The city contributes. It’s been so much safer when everyone who wants a night walk comes here, but there are fewer of us out in the winter months.” The fall chill is actually helping with the pain in your feet, so that's something.

Your mysterious crush is facing you again, apparently satisfied that the two of you aren't being watched by anything more permanent than good old Frank. “I’m sorry,” he says. The words have a horrid finality to them, but you’re focused on his eyebrows. They’re not on board with the rest of his body language. They’re beseeching, rather than resolute, hopeful rather than harsh.

You have one chance to get this right.

“There are some things I love about my coworkers, and let’s be real, a lot of things I don’t-- but do you want to know the thing I like least about working in a hospital?”

Your whole body is practically vibrating with adrenaline, and you realize this is your opportunity to shove on your shoes. As you do that, you refuse to look up at him. The goal is to bring his critical thinking skills back from ‘fight or flight’ mode. Then maybe you can get the two of you on the same page again.

It takes over a minute, but he lets out a long breath and sits down beside you. “Tell me."

“They’re terrible gossips,” you say, looking right at him. He’s not allowed to make the obvious (ruinous, new-relationship-wrecking) conclusion about what you’re saying, not without having to look you in the eye while he does it. “I can’t stand that shit. That’s why they send me on the errands. I’ve got everyone trained to stop talking when I walk by, at this point.”

His relief is visible. “I can respect that.”

“Good.” You set both feet on the ground and decide to test things out by standing. If you’re wobbly, you feel certain he’ll reach out and catch you. “Tomorrow night?”

“Wait,” he says, the picture of confusion. “You’re not-- You think I’m hiding from something and you’re not going to ask about it?” Even in the dim glow of the nearby track light, you can see the clench and release of his jaw.

“For all I know, you’re hiding from your last girlfriend. I know I’d find it hard to give you up, and I’ve known you for what? Two weeks?” Your feet are screaming at you about as loudly as the critical voice in your head, but happiness has made both just distant enough to achieve your goals. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets, which you take to be a good sign. “Would that still be ‘textbook?’ This is all new to me.”

All of the cheeky, sarcastic, and cheesy thoughts that cross your mind would ruin the moment, so you go off script. It’s not the best, but it’s not awful, either.

“New is terrible for work shoes, but it’s lovely when it’s you. See you tomorrow night!”

Stay tuned for more stories in the Ro Roll! Would you like more of these two? Let me know 💚

[luveline]

jade my heart I’m really feeling Peter parker tonight in this chilis. maybe just Pete listening to r go on about something she likes? Like a book or a tv show and he’s just listening but also so obsessed with her and thinks she’s adorable? I love u! 🫶🏻

ily ty for requesting <3 fem

“It’s a prequel, you know?” 

Peter feels fondness for you pretty much every second of the day, but the way you’re asking without looking at him, and the way you’re laying across his lap so unbothered, he finds himself grinning like a mad man. “I did not know that,” he says. 

You nod up and down with a severe sort of look about you, as though this is of the utmost importance. If Peter doesn’t get on the same page as you soon, he’s not gonna make it. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen the first trilogy. Like, I like you so much, but where the hell have you been?” 

“Where have I been?” he wonders. 

“Anyways, that’s not the point, sorry. They’re complicated movies. You’d like them, though. Next time I’ll bring my DVD’s and we can watch them, if you want to, you’ll really like them, or you’ll really like Natalie Portman, at least. She’s beautiful. And her character is so… complicated, I guess, she’s doomed from the beginning of the narrative and she’s the catalyst for so much but she’s also just… sorry, I’m being totally boring.” 

“Says who?” 

Doesn’t take much more than that to get you rolling again, you want to tell him that badly, “I don’t wanna spoil it anymore because I really think you’ll love them if you watch them, but you’re gonna need to watch the first trilogy to get the emotional impact, and you’ll love them, don’t worry.” 

“I’ll love them,” he agrees, attempting to lean down for a kiss. 

“Wait, is this a shut me up kiss?” you whisper. 

Peter shakes his head as he kisses you, serving for a wobbly but soft press of your lips to his. “Never. Tell me everything about it.” 

You talk until you’re hoarse, literally hoarse, and Peter has to make you a cup of water. His cheeks are hurting from smiling at you. You’ve never looked this cute, not once, not even when he took you to Coney Island and you screamed the house down on all the rides. 

“I think we better go and get those DVDs,” he says. 

“It’s dark out,” you say. 

“We’ll swing.” 

“Isn’t that against your code of ethics?” You sip your drink, pointing at him. “We’ll hear someone who needs help on the way and you’ll drop my extended editions to save them.” 

“I won’t drop anything,” he says. “Come on! Come on, if you’re this excited just talking about it I wanna see how pretty you are when we’re actually watching the movies.” 

You press your smile into a line. “You’re not just humouring me?” 

“I could listen to you talk for hours, baby, but you sound like you did the second time we got off of The Cyclone.” 

You do a spinning, meandering dance into his arms. “If you insist.” 

Your feigned reluctance is adorable. He grabs you in both hands for another misaligned kiss.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Tied Up (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You really like it when Melissa ties her hair up.

Words: 1.7k

Warning: mentions of bondage and marking

You were trying to pay attention. You really were. You could see Melissa’s lips moving and you could hear her voice but the words weren’t forming. Instead, you felt frozen, just staring at her, nodding along when it felt appropriate.

“Don’t you agree?” managed to break through the fog in your brain.

“Yup,” you said nodding, “mmhm.”

“You weren’t listening to me at all were you?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Course I was.” Your eyes traced over her face again, lingering on the line of her neck, “I was totally listening.”

“What’d I say then?” she asked.

You were frozen again.

“Alright, no I wasn’t listening,” you admitted.

She looked over you before turning on her heels and walking away. All you could do was watch her ponytail swing in time with her steps. Your mouth turned dry and you felt your heart beat harder in your throat.

Your best days were the ones where Melissa wore her hair up.

Perhaps she began to pick up on it, as from that day on she began wearing her hair up more often. Which left you to not able to concentrate any time you were in the same room with her. Making Janine begin trying to investigating what was going on with you. So you began avoiding Melissa as much as possible. And eating alone in your classroom every lunch.

It was your way of maintaining your sanity. Without Janine asking you constant questions about your inability to concentrate and without Melissa in visible eye line, you were able to relax and not turn up to teach with your thoughts muddled. You were getting ahead on work by not taking a proper lunch break too, so you had to look at the positives.

The negatives were not seeing Melissa.

It all came to a head on a Tuesday. The last bell had rung and you’d dismissed your fourth graders. You fell back in your seat, letting out a long breath. It had been a long day, your kids unable to settle. Some days were a slog to get through.

“You avoiding me?”

You jumped, almost falling from your chair. In your doorway, Melissa was glaring at you. Your words dried up. A strand of hair curled against the skin of her neck and you wondered what that skin would taste like.

“Are ya?” she demanded.

You floundered for a moment before a no burst from you.

“Then what’s going on?” she asked, closing the door to your classroom behind her.

“Janine… asks questions,” you said.

“Look, no one’s gonna deny that but none of the rest of us are hiding out from her, so what’s really going on?”

“Nothing,” you said.

Your eyes drifted down her body again before you had to look away. You were so aware of her, every step she was taking towards you, every shift in the air. A finger tilted your chin up, your breath catching as you looked into her face, her bare skin touching yours.

“Have I done something?” she asked, looking genuinely concerned by the answer.

The thing was, before the whole tying hair up thing you’d been friends with Melissa. Friends but you found her beautiful and interesting and funny and definitely had a crush on her. But it was manageable since there was no possibility of her returning your feelings.

It had just gotten out of control as of late.

“No,” you said, not quite able to bring yourself to pull out of her grip on your chin.

“You leave a room when I enter it,” she said, “you’ve been avoiding me.”

“It’s not… I haven’t been… it’s not what you think,” you managed to land on.

“Then what is it?” she asked, “talk to me, hon.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll fix it,” you said, “I’ll fix it.”

She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Please don’t make me say it,” you begged her.

Her fingers trailed from your chin, down your neck until it brushed over your pulse point. You shivered, averting your eyes from her again. Her touch continued to move, until her fingers were tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging on it until you were looking up at her again. Her eyes moved down your body before meeting yours again.

“You got a crush on me or something?”

Your cheeks heated.

“You think I haven’t noticed how you look at me? How you don’t pay attention when I wear a low cut top? How you can’t even look at me when I wear my hair in a ponytail?” She tugged on your hair again, “I noticed.”

“Then you know why I’ve been avoiding you.” You internally cursed, “not avoiding you. Keeping my distance.”

“No, I don’t know why so how’s about you explain it to me,” she said.

“Well, obviously you don’t feel the same way so I have to get over you. And that’s really hard when you’re here looking all…” Your eyes slid over her body, lingering on the long line of her neck you’d like to leave your mark on, “I know we’re friends but I can’t get over you if I’m drooling over you everyday.”

“Hey, hey who says I don’t feel the same way?” she said, interrupting before you could continue rambling, “don’t go putting words in my mouth.”

“Course you don’t because you’re you and I’m… me,” you said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“Well, you’re so strong and confident and smart. Like you take no shit. You’re so impressive. And funny. You make me laugh all the time. And then there’s me who’s just kind of a mess with nothing to offer someone as amazing as you,” rushed out of you.

“What’re you talking about?” Her hand slipped from your hair to cup your cheek, so soft and gentle it could make you cry.

“It’s fine,” you said, the embarrassment continuing to build, “I’m working on it.”

“Working on what, hon?” she asked.

“Getting over you,” you said, “and then this will just be a funny story we can reminisce on later.”

“And what if I don’t want you getting over me?”

“Well then I’ll-“ You paused as your brain caught up to her words, “what?”

“Hon, I’ve been tying my hair up like this since I noticed the effect it had on you. You think I’m doing that for my own amusement?” she said, “well, I am but it’s because you get this cute lil look on your face when you’re flustered. Point is, I’ve been doing it for your benefit.”

“Huh?”

She sighed, the way you’d heard her do a million times, and squeezed her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them again, there was a smoulder to them that made your breath catch. You’d spend countless hours with her but she’d never looked at you like that.

“Do I have to hit you over the head with it? I got feelings for you too, sweetheart,” she said, “I happen to like that you’re you.”

“But-“

She pressed a finger to your lips, effectively silencing you.

“But nothing. I know I look hotter with my hair down but you like it like this. So I make the sacrifice to make your day better. You think I’m doing that for someone I don’t like? C’mon, I ain’t no sucker,” she said, “I was hoping you’d tell me without having to hunt you down even if I like the thought of tying you up.”

You choked on nothing, spluttering at her words. She gave you one of those smiles that said she was indulging you.

“Sorry, I just- you- bondage? Really?”

“That’s all you got from that?”

Her head tilted to the side and your eyes drifted back to her neck, so distracted with thoughts of marking her and being tied up by her. She chuckled, tilting your chin up.

“The point is, I like you too. And unless you’re going to run away again, I’m gong to kiss you now,” she said.

“I won’t run,” you breathed.

“Good.”

She lent towards you, slow as if worried you might still change your mind and run. Her forefinger was still tilting your face towards her, skin against skin enough to drive you crazy. The first brush of lips was soft, as if testing the waters. You gasped, surging up from your chair, pressing her against the edge of your desk as you kissed her deeper. Her tongue stroked along yours and your entire mind emptied of anything but her.

Her fingers buried themselves in your hair, tangling in it as you pinned her to the desk, needing her more than you needed air. You trailed your lips down, finally living out the fantasy that had been living in your head for so long. Your tongue darted out, tasting her skin. Her moan was delicious, pressing you closer when your teeth nipped at her.

She sighed your name, tightening her fingers in your hair. You hummed against her throat, knowing you’d found heaven. You could spend hours right there, buried in her neck, listening to the noises she was making.

“Hon, as much as I’m enjoying that mouth of yours, if you keep up with that I won’t be responsible for my actions and we’re still on school premises,” she said, gently pushing you away, “how about you pack up and I’ll make you dinner?”

“I’m not even worth taking somewhere?” you asked.

“I ain’t promising to keep my hands off you,” she said, causing your cheeks to heat up, “I’d rather have you on my table than somewhere anyone else can see you. All that’s for me. No one else gets to see that.”

“Yeah that sounds good.”

“Good, get your coat,” she said, “I’ve spent enough time waiting for you I’m not waiting another moment.”

You snatched up your coat from the back of your chair and your bag from under your desk. She chuckled at your enthusiasm, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You reached up, turning her face towards yours. It was quick, the kiss you pressed to her lips, but her smile lasted a lot longer than that.

[sydsaint]

You're still champion of my heart baby <3

Summary: Tyler faces his toughest fight yet against Chris Jericho with PLE implications. Luckily for him, Tyler's girlfriend isn't above getting her hands dirty in order to help her man win.

You finish up your match against Emi Sakura, managing to earn a quick win against the Japanese legend. After celebrating in with a few fans on your way up the ramp, you head back to the locker room to see if Tyler's left yet.

"Ty? You in here?" You announce yourself as you come through the locker room door.

"Yeah." Tyler replies dryly from somewhere inside the locker room. "You beat, Emi?" He asks you as you shut the door behind you.

You snort and nod. "Course I did, look at who you're talking to." You laugh.

"Right." Tyler laughs with you.

You clean up some excess sweat from your body and throw on a shirt over your ring gear while Tyler idles on his phone like usual.

"Shouldn't you be headed out to the ring to talk with Jericho's annoying ass?" You ask Tyler after you're done changing.

"Yeah, unfortunately." Tyler nods. "I can't believe that he went and whined to my dad." He grumbles.

You snort and agree. "Look at who you're talking about, Ty." You remind him. "Jericho is a total snake. And he's ugly so,"

"You did warn me." Tyler nods. "I'm headed out. Wanna walk with me?" He asks you.

"Sure." You shrug and head over to the door.

Tyler pulls open the door for you and the two of you head down to the tunnel. You stop right at the tunnel entrance and watch Tyler head through it. You hang back since you know that he doesn't need you for this. Not with a shmuck like Chris Jericho.

You hang around backstage and watch the confrontation in the ring from the monitors set up in various places. You roll your eyes at Chris' arrogance, silently praying that Tyler just decks him.

"Oh what the fuck!?" You curse the air when Jericho decides to take a shot at Taz.

Tyler handles the situation, getting into Chris's face. But your worry for Taz gets the better of you. You head down to the ring from the back way so you don't take the spotlight away from Tyler.

"Taz!" You rush over to his side as he carefully rolls out of the ring. "Are you alright?" You help him down to the floor.

"Yeah, I'm alright, kid." Taz assures you, but you notice that his knee is obviously bothering him.

You set a cautious and gentle hand on Taz's shoulder and walk with him back over to the commentary table. Tyler takes a second to glance your way and you flash him a quick thumbs up. Ty nods at your assuring gesture and goes right back to getting in Jericho's face.

"You sure that you're okay, Taz?" You ask Taz again once he's at down.

"I'm good." Taz nods. "Come on, give me some credit, kid. I ain't quite that old yet." He chuckles. "But I appreciate the concern."

You nod and slink back around the tunnel to the backstage area to wait for Tyler to come back.

A few minutes later Tyler comes stomping through the tunnel with a foul air about him. You walk over to him and try your best to tame the beast before he thinks about doing something drastic.

"Tyler! Hey!" You rush over to Tyler's side.

"Is my dad alright?" Tyler asks you, venom in his tone.

You nod and put a hand on Tyler's arm. "Yeah, he said that he was okay." You assure him. "Come on, let's head back to the locker room and get our stuff so we can get out of here." You give his arm a small tug away from the tunnel since Chris is still out in the ring.

"Thanks for going out there and checking on him, YN." Tyler relaxes a little bit.

"Yeah, of course." You nod and begin pulling him along. "And hey, you'll get another shot at kicking Jericho's ass, okay? In the ring. Properly." You glance his way while you're walking with him.

Tyler's jaw clenches in frustration. "He's lucky that I didn't lay him out right then and there." He insists.

"I know, baby." You rub Tyler's arm, still making sure to put as much distance between him and anything Chris Jericho related as possible.

Sunday night rolls around and it's time for Dynasty. You're not scheduled for a match on the card so you opt to hang around backstage and provide Tyler with all the support that he needs tonight.

Tyler's been in a foul mood since Wednesday, and if you weren't a hater then you'd be fearing for Chris Jericho's well being right now.

"You want me out there with you?" You ask Tyler while he's getting ready for his match.

"Nah." Tyler shakes his head. "I can do this by myself." He assures you. "Can you maybe hang with my dad on commentary though?" He asks you.

You nod, surprised that Ty seems worried about his dad. "Yeah, sure." You pull your shoes back on while Tyler finishes getting ready.

The time comes for Tyler's match and the two of you head out. You let Tyler do his entrance by himself and go the back way down to the commentary table. Taz pulls up a chair for you to sit next to him in, but you decline his offer of a headset.

Chris saunters out to the ring after Tyler with his usual smug aura. You roll your eyes at the challenger as he passes the commentary desk but remain in your seat.

The bell rings and the match gets underway, and just like you suspected. It doesn't take long for the bout to get violent. You sit in silence next to Taz while Tyler and Chris go at it beating the crap out of one-another. You wince each time Chris uses a dirty tactic to try and get the upper hand and your anger grows with each second.

"Oh no." Taz slips his headset off his head once Chris retrieves his metal bat from where he was stashing it under the ring.

Tyler barely managed to kick-out of Jericho's last pinning attempt. So you know if Chris lands this than it's over for your boyfriend.

"Oh, fuck no!" You jump out of your seat and slip past Taz.

You rush around the ring and shove Jericho to the floor while's he's got his back turned away from you. Chris's bat goes flying out of his hands and you pick it up.

"Ty might be to proud to be a cheater, Chris." You stare down Jericho as he gets to his feet slowly. "But I'm not like my boyfriend."

You swing the bat at Jericho and it collides with his head. The blow instantly crumples Chris to his knees and you drop the bat. Tyler finally stirs in the ring so you haul Jericho's fat ass up and roll him into the ring before calmly walking back over to the commentary table.

You are met by Taz who looks at you with adoration like you've never seen on the man's face before.

In the ring, Tyler gets to his feet and locks in REDRUM on Chris, not that it's need after your handwork. Aubrey calls a stop to the match after checking on Chris and the bell rings. You pluck the FTW championship from it's perch at the timekeepers area and make your way into the ring.

Tyler lifts himself back to his feet again and you hand his championship back to him. "I knew you could do it." You smile at him and lift his hand in the air in victory.

"Thanks for the help, babe." Tyler whispers to you, secretly proud that you didn't let any of Chris's bullshit slide.

The crowd cheers for Tyler and you hear Taz mention you back at the commentary table proudly. Chris Jericho has been silenced and all is right in the world again.