#but I think holding it back was the right call because it was better experienced as a body of work first

[kookiewithluv]

✿—✧SPACE BETWEEN US✧—✿

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: college au, friends to lovers, fluffy (?), angst

Trigger warning: it's super cringe!

Word count: 9k

Summary: You have been in love with Jungkook for ages but never said anything. When a surprise date turns into a dramatic showdown, his hidden feelings come crashing to the surface.

a/n: The characters and situations depicted in this chapter are fictional and are intended for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The portrayal of emotions and interpersonal dynamics is a creative interpretation and should not be taken as a reflection of real-life relationships or events.a/n: Do not use this story as your own. I don't allow translations or reposting of my work on any platform, including YouTube.

a/n: Yes, you're probably experiencing déjà vu—I'm reposting this without a single edit. After my last account got suspended for reasons beyond my control, I figured what better way to kick off my return than by sharing one of my cringiest fanfics? Honestly, it's pretty on-brand for me, don't you think?

All Rights Reserved ©

@kookiewithluv 2024

You sat in your classroom, the hum of idle chatter around you barely registering. The lecture wouldn’t start for another thirty minutes, but you couldn’t care less. You just needed to be alone. The weight of recent events pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you numb and confused. Your mind raced, thoughts tangled in a mess you couldn’t unravel.

Your phone vibrated on the desk, the screen lighting up with notifications. You glanced at it: 200+ texts and 28 missed calls from Jungkook. Without a second thought, you picked up the phone, turned it off, and set it back down. You didn’t want to deal with it, with him, with anything. Time seemed to blur as you sat there, your heart aching, your eyes glassy. But the tears wouldn’t come. They just sat there, stuck, like everything else inside you.

“Blush? Blush, are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he spoke beside you.

You flinched, startled out of your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed him sit down. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that made your chest tighten. He looked so soft, so pretty in that moment—his pink lips curved into a worried pout, his hair falling messily over his forehead, half-covering those big doe eyes that seemed to shine even more because of it.

He reached out, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, and called your name again. “Blush,” he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a quiet prayer. But you knew better. You did.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. You just shook your head and forced a small smile, turning away. What were you supposed to say? That you were what was wrong? That you’d fallen for him, knowing he’d never be there to catch you? The words were right there, lodged in your throat, but you swallowed them down, feeling them settle heavy and painful in your stomach. The ache clawed at your insides, begging for release, but you took a deep breath, holding everything in.

Jungkook was still watching you, his gaze piercing through the walls you were trying so hard to build. He gently cupped your face, turning you back to look at him. “Eyes on me. I’m talking,” he said, his tone soft but firm. The way his thumb brushed your cheek was so tender it almost broke you.

“You should—” he began, but the classroom door creaked open, and students started to file in, breaking the moment. He pulled back, checking the time, and you followed his gaze. Just as you both expected, Professor Min walked in, signaling the start of class. Relief washed over you, grateful for the distraction, for the escape. You silently thanked Mr. Min for his impeccable timing.

As the lesson began, you tried to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to Jungkook, to the conversation you’d narrowly avoided. Your chest felt tight, your heart heavy, but you pushed it all down, forcing yourself to stay composed.

The class went on, but all you could think about was how close you’d come to spilling everything. And how you still couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Class ended earlier than expected. Mr. Min had cut the lecture short, saying he had something urgent to attend to. The moment his words left the room, you were already packing up, hands moving frantically as you stuffed your notebook and pens into your bag. Your movements were jerky, almost desperate, as if the faster you moved, the quicker you could escape.

Jungkook was right beside you, his presence heavy like a storm cloud about to break. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his gaze, those eyes you usually found so comforting now burning holes into you. As you zipped up your bag, you felt his fingers twitch, like he was about to reach out, but you didn’t give him the chance.

You bolted for the door, your steps quick and purposeful. Just as you reached the threshold, his voice—a smooth, velvety sound that usually made your heart skip—called out your name.

“Blush,” he said, soft and hopeful.

But you didn’t stop. You didn’t turn around. You didn’t even acknowledge him. For the first time, you ran away from him. Your heart hammered in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of what you were doing, but you couldn’t stop.

The hallway blurred as you hurried through it, eyes fixed straight ahead, refusing to look back. You knew he was still there, standing in the doorway, probably confused, maybe even hurt. But you couldn’t deal with that now. You just needed to be alone.

When you reached the canteen, you went straight to the farthest corner, away from the clusters of students laughing and chatting. You dropped into a chair, slumping down as you pulled the hood of Jungkook’s hoodie over your head, trying to hide from the world. Your hands fiddled with the hem of the hoodie, twisting and tugging at the fabric as if it could somehow ground you, make everything go away.

You curled in on yourself, your head bowed low, eyes fixed on your trembling hands. The familiar scent of Jungkook still clung to the hoodie, but instead of comfort, it brought a fresh wave of pain. You bit your lip, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill over.

In that moment, the bustling canteen felt a million miles away. All you could focus on was the way your heart ached, the way it felt like something inside you was slowly breaking apart. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything to release the pressure building up inside you, but instead, you just sat there, hiding beneath the hoodie that was his, trying to hold yourself together, trying to breathe.

You were drowning in your thoughts, the noise around you fading into nothingness. A voice yanked you back to reality, snapping the delicate thread of your spiralling mind. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

A light touch on your shoulder—soft, almost hesitant—tried to pull your attention. She already had it, though she didn’t realize it, because you still hadn’t looked at her. She stood to your left, leaning in slightly.

“Are you okay?” Lilith asked, her voice laced with concern. You kept your eyes down, refusing to meet hers.

Lilith. The campus beauty queen. The girl everyone adored. The girl who loved Jungkook. And everyone knew it, too. They rooted for them to be together, whispering about how perfect they’d be. The thought made your stomach churn, a bitter taste rising in your mouth. You hated it.

She continued, her tone gentle but insistent. “Jungkookie is worried about you. He was searching everywhere for you. You should talk to him. Should I call him—”

Your blood boiled at the sound of that nickname. Jungkookie. He hated that name, had told you so many times how much he despised it but never her. she kept calling him that, oblivious or maybe just indifferent. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms as you struggled to keep your anger in check.

“No,” you practically yelled, the word bursting out before you could stop it. Lilith flinched, her eyes wide with shock. She pulled her hand back, her fingers twitching nervously. But you didn’t care. You didn’t feel guilty. All you felt was anger—anger at yourself for losing control, and a burning hatred for her.

Without another word, you grabbed your bag, roughly shoving it over your shoulder as you pushed past her. She stumbled back slightly, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but you didn’t give her the chance. You stormed out of the canteen, your chest heaving with frustration.

The fresh air outside did little to calm you. You headed straight for the parking area, your steps quick and determined, each one pounding out the anger inside you. When you reached your car, you spotted it immediately and hurried over, yanking the door open.

You slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind you. For a moment, you just sat there, your breathing harsh and uneven. Then, with a frustrated groan, you tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, not caring where it landed. Everything felt too tight, too overwhelming. You buried your face in your hands, your fingers curling into your hair as you tried to steady yourself.

But the anger wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t let go. It bubbled just beneath the surface, a constant, throbbing ache that wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t ease. And all you could think about was how much you wished it would just disappear. How much you wished everything would just disappear.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to push all the swirling thoughts out of your head. With a quick motion, you pressed down on the accelerator, and the car roared to life beneath you. You didn’t hesitate as you started driving, focusing on the road ahead, wanting to leave everything behind.

But as you drove away, something caught your eye in the rearview mirror. Jungkook. He was running after your car, his face a mix of desperation and panic. You could see his mouth moving, probably yelling your name, but the sound was lost to the roar of the engine and the rush of blood in your ears. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even slow down. You just kept going, watching as he grew smaller and smaller in the mirror until he disappeared from view.

The ride home was anything but peaceful. The guilt gnawed at you, sinking its claws deeper with every passing mile. You tried to push it away, to convince yourself that you were right to leave, that you needed space. But the image of Jungkook’s face, the way he’d run after you, wouldn’t leave your mind. You’d ignored him all day, and you knew it must’ve hurt him. But you shook your head, refusing to dwell on it. You couldn’t handle that right now.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, the silence of your empty house greeted you. You parked the car in the garage, the engine’s hum dying down as you cut the power. The quiet was suffocating as you walked into the house, the echo of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. Your parents weren’t home. Again. Even though they had promised they would be. You let out a bitter chuckle, shaking your head at your own foolishness. Why did I even believe them? you thought. It was your birthday tomorrow, and once again, they weren’t there. Meetings, parties—whatever it was, it was always more important.

You made your way to the living room and sank down onto the couch, turning on the TV in a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself. But nothing on the screen held your attention. The images blurred together, the voices just white noise in the background. Your mind was too cluttered, too full of everything that had happened today, to make sense of anything playing out in front of you.

Frustrated, you got up and headed to your room, the emptiness of the house pressing down on you with every step. You didn’t have the energy to cook, the thought of food making your stomach twist. “Guess I’ll sleep hungry tonight,” you muttered to yourself, a hollow laugh escaping your lips.

You collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own breathing. But sleep didn’t come. No matter how much you tossed and turned, your mind wouldn’t quiet down. Thoughts of Jungkook, your parents, the loneliness that seemed to cling to you like a shadow—it all kept swirling in your head, refusing to let you rest.

You curled up under the covers, pulling them tightly around you as if they could shield you from the thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone. But no matter how hard you tried, the weight of the day wouldn’t let you go. And so, you lay there, eyes wide open, the darkness around you feeling like a reflection of the emptiness inside.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the room was cloaked in darkness. The silence around you was heavy, oppressive, and as the memory of the day crashed down on you, the tears began to flow uncontrollably, streaming down your face at an unusual speed.

Tomorrow was supposed to be special—your birthday. Even if your parents weren’t around, you’d convinced yourself that Jungkook’s presence would make it memorable. This morning, you’d been brimming with excitement. But all of that shattered the moment you stepped onto the college campus.

The crowd had been the first thing you noticed—a sea of students gathered in an unusually large cluster. Your curiosity had drawn you toward it, and you’d squeezed through the masses, pushing past eager onlookers until you reached the front. What you saw made your heart sink.

Lilith and Jungkook stood there, framed by the throng of students. Lilith held a bouquet of flowers, her face radiant with a hopeful smile as she offered it to him. The sight was enough to tell you what was happening. She was proposing. Your heart twisted with a mix of dread and hope as you watched Jungkook. He looked visibly distressed, his hands trembling slightly as he took the bouquet. A flicker of hope ignited in you that he might reject her, but the moment he accepted the flowers, that hope was dashed. The crowd erupted in cheers, and your heart shattered into pieces.

As if the scene couldn't get any worse, it did. The crowd began chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The noise was deafening, each cheer driving the knife of betrayal deeper into your heart. Jungkook’s face flushed with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. He grabbed Lilith’s hand and tugged her away from the crowd, leading her toward a more private corner. You knew it wasn’t about him not wanting to kiss her in public; it was about him wanting to keep those private moments just for himself, away from prying eyes.

Recalling the memory now, as tears flowed freely and uncontrollably, your heart felt like it was being squeezed tight. The image of Jungkook’s nervous expression and Lilith’s hopeful eyes replayed in your mind, each scene a fresh cut. The darkness of your room mirrored the darkness in your heart, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on you with crushing force.

You clutched the pillow to your chest, your sobs muffled but relentless. Each breath came in shaky bursts, and you could feel the tears soaking through the fabric. The tears and the pain were all-consuming, leaving you with nothing but the hollow ache of rejection and betrayal. The silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own brokenhearted sobs.

It’s funny how quickly things change. The person who once made your heart flutter with joy now seemed to be the source of all your misery. But it wasn’t his fault. He had no idea of your feelings. You never told him, and now you were left with nothing but regret.

The minutes dragged on with torturous slowness. The clock still hadn’t hit 10, and you were restless, your body aching from the weight of your emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and closed your eyes, hoping to find some semblance of peace. Yet, amid the turmoil, a small spark of hope flickered within you. Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook would call when the clock struck midnight. Maybe, as he had done in the past, he would stand on your doorstep with a big bouquet of daisies, because he knew how much you loved them.

Hope brought with it a tangled mess of uncertainty and fear. Part of you desperately wished for him to come, to see him standing there with that familiar, warm smile. But another part of you feared what that would mean. If he showed up, you knew you might not be able to hold yourself back. The thought of begging him to love you, to confess your feelings, terrified you. You wanted nothing more than to be happy for your best friend, the one you loved with all your heart, without letting your own desires ruin his moment.

As these conflicting thoughts swirled in your mind, you became increasingly aware of the exhaustion that weighed down on you. Your body, worn out from the emotional rollercoaster, finally succumbed to sleep. You hadn’t noticed when the weariness took over, but soon you were drifting off, your breathing evening out as the turbulent storm of your mind began to settle into a restless slumber.

The harsh buzz of the alarm clock jolted you awake. You reached out with a groggy hand to silence it, grumbling under your breath. As you blinked your eyes open, a dull ache throbbed in your head, and you winced at the sting of light. Your eyes felt like they were weighed down by sandbags, red and swollen from hours of restless sleep.

With a groan, you rolled out of bed, stumbling toward the bathroom. Each step felt heavy, your body dragging as if weighed down by an invisible burden. You shuffled into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with a sense of numb resignation. The sight that met you was far from flattering. Your hair was a tangled mess, and your face was puffy and pale. You let out a shaky breath, your reflection mocking you. "Happy birthday, ugly," you muttered to yourself, bitterness lacing your voice.

You turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto your face, hoping to wash away the remnants of the night’s tears. The brisk water was invigorating but did little to lift the fog in your mind. You brushed your teeth mechanically, the familiar routine providing a small comfort. As you stepped into the shower, the warm water hit your skin, but it did little to soothe the ache inside you.

Your thoughts kept drifting back to Jungkook. You’d hoped he’d come by, as he used to, or at least send a message. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear you were wrong. You chuckled bitterly at your own foolishness.

He hadn’t called.

Not even a text.

It was as if you’d been erased from his life, replaced by someone new.

Finishing up in the shower, you turned off the water and stepped out, feeling cold despite the warmth of the steam. You walked to your closet with a heavy heart and pulled on a simple white tee and blue baggy jeans. You chose a pair of Jordan shoes, not because you don't felt like dressing up, but because you couldn’t muster the energy for anything more. The effort felt pointless when it seemed no one remembered or cared about your birthday.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you dressed, and the image reflected the hollow ache you felt inside. With a resigned sigh, you walked out of your room, ready to face another day, feeling like a forgotten afterthought.

You hurried out of your house, barely pausing to lock the door behind you. The cold morning air bit at your cheeks as you slid into the driver's seat of your car. Your movements were mechanical, driven by a deep-seated weariness. You started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, the rumble of the car filling the silence of your thoughts.

As you drove to college, Jungkook’s image was a persistent shadow in your mind. Each turn of the wheel seemed to echo with memories of him—his laughter, his smile, and the sting of his absence. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, as you fought to keep your emotions in check. There was an undercurrent of nervousness you couldn’t quite place, a fluttering uncertainty that made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t define.

The drive felt endless, each minute dragging by as you replayed yesterday’s events. By the time you pulled into the college parking lot, you were nearly suffocating with frustration and sadness. You parked your car with swift, jerky movements, almost slamming the gearshift into park.

Stepping out of the car, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the melancholy that clung to you. The walk from the parking lot to the campus felt like a trek through a fog. Your eyes were downcast, your footsteps heavy as you made your way through the bustling campus. You barely registered the chatter and movement around you, lost in your own turmoil.

You finally reached the canteen, its familiar smell of coffee and breakfast foods mixing with the lingering bitterness in your heart. As you pushed through the doors, the chatter and clatter of trays and dishes surrounded you, but you barely noticed. You moved through the crowded room, shoulders hunched, eyes focused on the path ahead. Finding a spot at a table, you sank into a chair, tossing your bag on the table, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, as if the whole world was a muted blur around you.

You took a deep breath, getting up and walking to the counter, eyes scanning the options in front of you. The canteen menu was as uninspiring as ever, but hunger gnawed at your stomach, reminding you of your own laziness for not cooking anything. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed a plate of waffles and a cup of coffee, the safest bets in this lackluster spread. After paying, you turned to head back to your table, but something made you freeze mid-step.

There he was—Jungkook. His eyes darted anxiously around the canteen, scanning faces, moving with a restless urgency that made your heart skip a beat. For a brief moment, the urge to bolt gripped you, to just turn around and leave before he spotted you. But you shook your head, grounding yourself. He wasn't looking for you. He was probably searching for his new girlfriend, Lilith. The thought stung, but you swallowed it down and continued back to your table.

You set the plate and coffee down with a soft clatter, sinking into your seat. Just as you lifted the cup to your lips, ready to lose yourself in the warmth of the coffee, you heard it—his voice cutting through the chatter of the canteen.

"Blush. Blush."

His nickname for you.

His footsteps followed, growing louder as they neared. Your breath caught in your throat as you set the cup back down, unable to take that sip.

In no time, Jungkook was standing right in front of you, his presence commanding, and something was different. You forced yourself to look up at him, your eyes meeting his, only to be met with an expression that sent a shiver down your spine.

Anger? Why did he look angry?

His brow was furrowed, jaw tight, and his eyes—those usually warm, comforting eyes—were now darkened with frustration. You couldn't understand it. What did he have to be angry about? Confusion churned in your gut, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, words failing you. The air between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken tension, and you could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, waiting for an explanation you didn't have.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Jungkook’s voice softened as he gazed at you, the anger in his eyes fading into something that looked like sadness. He tossed his bag onto the table beside yours with a thud, then crouched down in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face.

Before you could react, he reached out, grabbing the sides of your chair and turning it to face him. His hands found yours, gripping them tightly, as if afraid you might slip away. The intensity of his touch sent a jolt through you, weakening your resolve. It was a good thing you were already sitting, or your legs might have given out beneath you.

"Blush," he whispered, his voice so soft it barely reached your ears. The sound of your nickname on his lips made your heart clench painfully. God, you loved him—so much it hurt. But what did it matter? You couldn’t tell him. He had a girlfriend now. You reminded yourself of this bitter truth, feeling the familiar ache of heartbreak settling in your chest.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to pull your hands away from his, but he only held on tighter, his grip almost desperate. It was as if he feared losing you, like you were the one thing keeping him grounded. The intensity of his hold made your heart ache even more. Could it be? No, you must be imagining things.

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. "Why are you doing this? I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re just… not talking to me. You ignored me yesterday too."

His words hung in the air, heavy with confusion and hurt. You stared down at your intertwined hands, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. What could you say? There were no words that could fix this. The truth was too painful to speak. You just wanted to disappear, to be anywhere but here. The realization that he didn’t even remember your birthday only twisted the knife deeper. You felt like crumbling into pieces, but you stayed silent, holding back the storm of emotions threatening to escape.

You wanted to ask him if he even remembered it was your birthday. Did he really forget you in just one day after getting a girlfriend? It wasn’t about him not loving you or you loving him—that was a secret you’d buried deep. But you were best friends. Did he forget that too? How could he stand here, blaming you, while he acted like nothing was wrong?

But you didn’t ask any of those questions. The words that escaped your lips were far different, softer, weaker. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s gaze locked onto yours, searching for something—maybe an explanation, maybe an apology. You couldn't tell.

“I was just… It’s… My parents aren’t home. And I was feeling sad and lonely,” you lied, trying to force a convincing smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

For a moment, his eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing. He seemed to believe you, and that only made your heart crack a little more. Where had that Jungkook gone? The one who could see through your smiles, who always knew when something was wrong even before you did. The boy who used to notice the sadness hidden behind your laughter was gone, replaced by someone who couldn’t even spot the lie on your lips.

He nodded, his grip on your hands loosening slightly. “I get it,” he said, his voice softer now, more understanding. But he didn’t get it. Not really. He didn’t see the pain you were hiding, the way your heart was shattering piece by piece.

You swallowed hard, biting back the words you wanted to scream. Instead, you just nodded, letting him believe the lie, even though it tore you apart inside.

Jungkook stood up and gently patted your head, his touch warm but distant. "It will be okay, hmm?" he said, his voice soft, almost comforting. You nodded, feeling like a fool. Will it ever be okay? No, it won’t. It can never be okay. You loved him too much for things to be okay. This love was too deep, too consuming to ever fade. The only way for it to end would be for you to end, or else this love would live on inside you forever. That thought terrified you—the idea of loving him for eternity, never being able to touch him, while time made him forget you. And yet, you'd be left with nothing but memories, trapped in a loop of unrequited feelings.

“Blush?” His voice pulled you back to the present, soft and filled with concern. He smiled at you, that sweet smile he always reserved just for you. But now, that smile only reminded you that he wasn’t yours anymore—if he ever truly was. Nothing about him belonged to you, and maybe it never did. You were just fooling yourself, weren’t you?

“Don’t think much. It’ll be fine. I promise.” His fingers brushed your face, his thumb tracing lightly over your nose—a gesture that used to make you laugh, that used to light up your world. But now, it only made you want to cry.

You forced a smile, the corners of your mouth lifting just enough to convince him, even though your heart was breaking inside. His touch, his words—they were meant to soothe you, but they only made the ache worse. You wanted to believe him, to cling to the hope he offered, but deep down, you knew better. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Jungkook smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled a chair closer to you and sat down. His happiness was infectious, but it only added to the heaviness in your chest.

"I have something for you," he said, his voice laced with excitement. "want to see it?"

You didn’t really want to see it. The weight of exhaustion was already pressing down on you, making you feel dizzy and drained. All you wanted was for him to leave, for this feeling of doom to pass. But you nodded anyway, forcing yourself to respond.

When his eyes lit up at your response, a small part of you felt a flicker of happiness. You watched as he reached for his bag, your gaze following the movements of his hands, wondering what he was up to.

He pulled out a large box of chocolates, and a genuine smile finally touched your lips. For a moment, the weight in your heart lightened just a little. You looked up at him, trying to match his enthusiasm.

"I know you love these," he said, holding the box out to you, "and I thought you were angry at me, so I needed to make it up to you."

You took the box from him, managing a laugh. "I wasn’t angry, but thanks," you said, your voice a mix of gratitude and something else—something you couldn’t quite name. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture tender and familiar, making your heart ache even more.

But despite the sweetness of the gesture, the happiness didn’t quite reach your heart. A box of chocolates wasn’t enough to make up for what you really wanted—a simple “Happy Birthday” from him. Yet, you pushed those thoughts aside and leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, thanking him for the gift.

As he patted your head soothingly, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to feel the comfort he was trying to offer. But deep down, you knew that nothing could fill the emptiness inside you—not the chocolates, not his touch, not even the sound of his heartbeat close to yours.

You pulled back from the hug, your eyes lingering on his, those big doe eyes that seemed to hold the universe in them. He was everything you could ever want, the very definition of perfection. And maybe that’s why you couldn’t have him. He deserved someone better—someone like her.

He smiled at you, a warm, affectionate smile, and playfully squeezed your cheeks. Just as he was about to say something, a voice interrupted from behind.

“Jungkookie!” Lilith’s voice, sickly sweet and sharp, pierced through the air, making you wince.

Jungkook’s head snapped around, and he smiled at her, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. She came striding towards you both, her high heels clicking loudly on the floor. Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, and even you felt a twinge of concern that she might stumble and fall flat on her face. But she didn’t.

And as much as you hated to admit it, a small part of you was disappointed that she didn’t fall. You wanted her to.

In no time, she was standing in front of Jungkook, her hand sliding into his as she pulled him to his feet. It all happened so quickly, like a flash of lightning. One moment he was sitting with you, his hands gently cupping your cheeks, and the next, he was standing beside her, her arms wrapped possessively around his left arm.

He brushed her arms away, his expression softening as he bent down to your level. “Look, I’ve got to go now. I… I have something important to do. Take care and eat the chocolates, okay?”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you with nothing but a box of chocolates and the emptiness gnawing at your chest.

You stared at the chocolates, the sweetness now a bitter reminder of everything you wanted but couldn’t have. It wasn’t the chocolates you craved—it was him. But all you got was this, while she… she had everything you wanted.

You turned deliberately back to your food, your appetite gone, but you forced yourself to eat anyway. The food tasted like ash in your mouth, but you swallowed it down, trying to fill the void that only seemed to grow with each bite.

The day dragged on, each hour blurring into the next. You didn’t see Jungkook again—not that you expected to. He was probably busy with his new girlfriend, and though you told yourself you didn’t care, the truth was harder to swallow. You cared. You cared too much. But you were tired of admitting it, even to yourself.

Finally, the day came to an end. You packed up your things, barely aware of your surroundings as you walked down the corridor, out of the building, and into the parking lot. Spotting your car, you headed straight for it, tossing your bag onto the passenger seat with a sigh.

Just as you were about to start the engine, you heard someone call your name. You glanced out the window and saw a guy waving at you. When your eyes met, he jogged over to your car, his expression nervous but determined.

Standing beside your car, he smiled awkwardly. “Hey! You probably know me…”

You shook your head, and his face flushed a deep shade of red. “That’s okay, I’m Jay. We’re in the same class. Literature?”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue, feeling the weight of his nervous energy in the air. He took a deep breath, then suddenly blurted out, “Will you go on a date with me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His words hung in the air, and you processed them in stunned silence. But as you remained quiet, you saw the panic start to creep into his eyes, his breath quickening. Realizing he might be spiraling, you quickly stepped out of your car and placed a gentle hand on his arm, offering a reassuring smile.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said softly, trying to ease his nerves. “You don’t need to worry.”

He looked at you, relief washing over his face, though he still seemed uncertain. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. I’ll understand. You—”

His eyes lit up, a mixture of surprise and happiness flashing across his face. “Perfect! I’ll pick you up at 7 from your house.”

Your smile faltered slightly, the thought of giving out your address making you uneasy. “No, it’s okay. I’ll meet you there. Just send me the address.”

You exchanged phone numbers, his excitement almost contagious as he nodded eagerly. You still didn’t know him well. But at least this was something different, something that might distract you from everything else.

As you drove home, your thoughts drifted back to Jungkook and the emptiness that had taken root in your heart. But maybe, just maybe, it was time to try something new. To have a little fun, even if it was just to forget the pain, even if only for a night.

Time blurred by, and before you knew it, the clock struck six. Your phone buzzed with a text from Jay, providing the address of the restaurant. You glanced at the message before quickly getting ready, slipping into a simple black dress—nothing fancy, but short enough to make an impression. With one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your keys and headed out.

The drive to the restaurant was uneventful, your mind wandering as you navigated the familiar streets. When you arrived, the small vintage-themed restaurant immediately caught your eye. It was charming, with a warm, inviting atmosphere that made you smile. You stepped inside, scanning the room until you spotted Jay sitting in the corner, waving at you enthusiastically. You had to stifle a laugh—waving seemed to be his signature move.

You walked over, and as you approached, he quickly stood up and pulled out your chair with a shy grin. “Quite a gentleman, aren’t you?” you teased, unable to resist. His cheeks flushed pink, and he mumbled, “You look really beautiful.”

Settling into your seat, you felt a small flutter of satisfaction at his compliment. He ordered food for both of you, and the conversation began to flow naturally. Jay was nice—easy to talk to, with a soft demeanor that made the evening pleasant.

But then, mid-conversation, you noticed his hand suddenly move toward yours. He placed it on top of your hand, his touch tentative and shy. The urge to laugh bubbled up again, but you forced it down, deciding to let it slide. It didn’t feel right, but you didn’t say anything, noticing how nervous he was.

However, Jay seemed to misinterpret your silence. A few moments later, he scooted his chair closer to yours, his face inching toward you with a look that was all too clear. Your eyes widened in alarm, and you instinctively leaned back, creating distance. But Jay didn’t get the message—he continued leaning in, oblivious to your discomfort.

You opened your mouth, ready to stop him, but the words never left your lips. In the blink of an eye, Jay was on the floor, groaning in pain, clutching his side as he struggled to catch his breath.

And standing above him, fists clenched and jaw tight, was Jungkook.

His chest heaved with barely restrained fury, his usual calm expression replaced with something darker, more intense. His eyes, usually warm and full of mischief, were now cold as they locked onto Jay, who was still writhing on the floor. Jungkook’s hand twitched as if he was ready to strike again, but he held back, his gaze shifting to you.

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, and your breath caught in your throat. His eyes hard and cold met yours, the anger in them abating just a bit, but his voice was soft when he spoke. “Are you okay?”

"Huh?" You asked, puzzled, and startled. For what really? In your head, you believed Jay didn't have any wrong intentions. But Did you say anything? No. You were too dumbfounded to pronounce a word.

"Blush, are you okay?" He repeated.

You nodded, though the shock was still coursing through your veins, making your limbs feel heavy. Jungkook’s eyes searched yours as if looking for any sign of distress, and when he seemed satisfied that you were unharmed, he turned his attention back to Jay, who was trying to scramble to his feet.

“Stay away from her,” Jungkook warned, his voice low and menacing. Jay paled, his eyes darting between you and Jungkook, clearly terrified.

You wanted to say something—to calm the situation down—but the words were stuck in your throat, tangled with the confusion and a hint of something else. Relief, perhaps? Or was it something more? Hope? But, for what?

Jungkook’s gaze hardened further as he looked at Jay and then again at you, his voice firm now. “Let’s go. You shouldn’t be here.” He held out his hand, and for a moment, you hesitated, glancing at Jay, who looked utterly defeated. But in the end, you placed your hand in Jungkook’s, letting him lead you away from the chaos he had just caused.

Jungkook grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the restaurant with a force that left you stumbling to keep up. His grip was tight, almost painfully so, as he dragged you toward his car, his jaw set in a hard line. When you reached the car, he yanked the door open and practically shoved you inside, slamming the door shut with a sharp thud. You wanted to tell him that you’d driven yourself, but the words caught in your throat. Something in the way he moved, tense and angry, made you stay silent.

He climbed into the driver’s seat, his movements quick and stiff, and started the car without a word. The engine roared to life, and soon you were speeding down the dark streets, the silence between you heavy and oppressive. The air inside the car was thick with unspoken tension, and you found yourself nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress, your heart pounding in your chest.

You could tell he was furious; the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him from losing control. The cold night air seeped in through the cracked window, brushing against your bare skin and making you shiver. Despite his anger, Jungkook noticed. Without a word, he reached over and rolled up the window before flipping on the heater.

“My hoodie’s in the back seat,” he said harshly, his voice cutting through the silence. “Grab it and fucking wear it.”

The words were gruff, his tone filled with irritation, but the gesture was astonishingly thoughtful. You turned around to reach for the hoodie, and that’s when you noticed it—an enormous bouquet of daisies and a cake resting on the back seat. Your fingers froze mid-air as you stared at them, a mixture of confusion and curiosity swirling in your chest. Are they for me? Did he really? Your mind raced with these thoughts. You wanted to ask him about it, but when you glanced at his face, the sharp angles of his clenched jaw and the angry flicker in his eyes made you think twice.

Silently, you grabbed the hoodie and pulled it over your head, the fabric soft and warm against your skin. It was far too big, swallowing you up like a blanket, and his scent, a mix of something fresh and woodsy, surrounded you as you took a deep breath. For a brief moment, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. He really was huge, you thought, but the smile faded quickly as you stole another glance at him, his expression still hard and unyielding.

The drive seemed to pass in a blur, the tension in the car making every second feel like an eternity. Finally, you reached your home, and before you could even reach for the door handle, Jungkook was out of the car, moving around to your side. He yanked the door open with a roughness that made you flinch and grabbed your arm, pulling you out onto the sidewalk. His grip was firm as he dragged you toward the front door, his steps quick and determined, leaving you no choice but to stumble along behind him.

Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened, but before you could process it all, you were inside your house, the door closing with a sharp click behind you, and he was standing in front of you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing like a drum in the tense silence that followed Jungkook’s outburst. The fear in your gut twisted tighter with every step he took toward you. You had never seen him this angry before. He was always the boy who had been your childhood friend, the one you fell for in middle school but never told. At first, it was fear of rejection, and later, the fear of losing him and your friendship kept your feelings hidden. But now, wasn’t he lost to you? Didn’t he belong to Lilith now?

“Why the fucking hell were you out with that idiotic being?” His voice was like a whip, harsh and cutting through the air. The force of his words made you flinch, your shoulders tensing as if trying to shield yourself from his anger. You caught a flicker of something in his eyes—was it regret?—but it was fleeting, quickly masked by his furious expression.

Before you could gather your thoughts or find the words to respond, he took two swift strides toward you, and suddenly you were face-to-face. The intensity of his gaze bore into you, a storm of hurt and pain swirling in his eyes. “Do you like him?” he demanded, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “Do you love him?” He didn’t wait for your answers, bombarding you with questions while his face remained inches from yours.

You tried to speak, but the words were trapped, your throat tightening. Jungkook's hands gripped your shoulders, his fingers digging in with a possessiveness that left you breathless. “Damnit, say something!” he shouted, shaking you slightly. “Why were you out with him?”

But instead of answering, you shot back a question of your own, desperation lacing your voice. “How did you know I was out with him, Jungkook? How did you even find me Jungkook?”

You didn't want to answer his question. Why should he care if you loved someone or not, when he had accepted Lilith’s proposal just the day before? Now he had a girlfriend. He had no right to demand answers from you.

His anger flared further, a deep scowl marring his features. “Does it matter?” he snapped. “Does it fucking matter?” His eyes were intense, demanding an answer, and he leaned in as if he might kiss you, his breath hot against your face. “Why don’t you answer me? Do you love him?”

The intensity of the moment, the way he was so close and yet so distant, made you tremble. “Yes, it matters! It matters to me!” you shouted, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions. You pushed him away, the shove more about your need for space than real anger.

Jungkook stumbled back, his eyes widening in shock. His face twisted with hurt, and tears began to well up, glistening in the harsh light of the room. He stared at you, his expression a mix of pain and confusion, as if your rejection was a blow he wasn’t prepared for. The sight of him—this person who had always been so sure and confident—crumbling in front of you left a sharp pang in your chest.

As you looked at his tear-filled eyes, a deep, gnawing guilt settled in your chest. Why did you still care so much about him? You wondered. Your love for him was consuming you, and it was tearing you apart. You opened your mouth to respond, but he spoke before you could.

“I came to your house to celebrate your birthday,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I wanted to surprise you. This time... I wanted to surprise you on your birthday, that's why I didn't wish you before. But. But when I got here, I saw you getting into your car; before I could stop you, you left, your car was already speeding up. I chased after you because I really wanted to make you happy. You were loo-looking sad all day. But, I lost you somewhere along the way, then sear-searched for your car for like forever. When I finally found it, it was parked outside that restaurant.” His voice rose with each word, and his eyes were wild with a mixture of frustration and hurt. “And the moment I walked in, I saw him trying to kiss you. You didn’t even stop him!”

The anger in his voice dissolved into tears. His shoulders shook as he struggled to breathe, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. You could see the pain etched into his face, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

You moved towards him, your own heart breaking at the sight of him in such distress.

You moved towards him and wrapped your arms around him tightly, hoping to offer some comfort. “Jungkook, what's wrong?” you murmured, your voice gentle. “why are you crying? Please, don’t cry.” But he pushed you away, his hands shoving you forcefully. His reaction stunned you, and a wave of realization hit you. So this is how he felt when you pushed him away.

You tried again, but he pushed you off once more, his eyes filled with anguish. “You love him, don’t you? How long? Huh?” he sobbed, his voice cracking with pain.

Determined not to give up, you moved towards him again. This time, when he tried to push you, you held your ground. You guided him to the couch and gently made him sit down, his shoulders shaking with each breath. You stood beside him, your hand soothingly stroking his back. “Please, don’t cry,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady.

He buried his face against your waist, his arms clinging to you. “Why do you love him and not me?” he asked, his voice muffled but full of hurt. “I thought you love me.”

For a moment, you were frozen, staring at him in disbelief, questions swirling in your head making your heart ache further. He knew. He knew you loved him, yet he chose her over you. Now, he was asking you this. How could he? How could he ask this when he was with Lilith? Did he expect you to chase him while he enjoyed his life with someone else?

With a mix of frustration and sorrow, you pushed his hands away from your waist. His crying intensified, but you no longer cared. “How can you say that?” you yelled, your voice breaking. “You accepted Lilith’s proposal yesterday! You’re dating her now! And you’re telling me not to love anyone else?”

Jungkook shook his head vigorously, trying to explain. “I— I didn’t... She... I... No. Please,” he started, but you cut him off.

“You knew. You knew I love you. You knew I was upset!” you continued, your voice rising. “still, you left me alone with those stupid chocolates while you went off with her!”

He tried to explain himself again, but you interrupted again, your anger spilling over. “I didn’t want those chocolates! I wanted you!” you shouted, your hand striking his chest. “You’re a heartless bastard. I’ve loved you for so long, and you never cared! Was it too hard to fall for me? And, why crying now?”

Jungkook’s face twisted with frustration, he knew you love him, he always did, his mouth opening to say something, but you cut him off once more. “You always stopped me from calling you ‘Jungkookie’ or ‘Kookie,’ but you never minded when other girls did it!”

He was growing increasingly agitated, his face reddening with frustration. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you close. His lips crashed against yours, the urgency of the moment catching both of you by surprise.

For a brief second, you were frozen, his kiss demanding and intense. But then, you began to respond, your lips moving against his. The kiss was raw, filled with all the emotions neither of you could put into words.

He slowly pulled away, both of you breathing hard, your chests rising and falling rapidly. Your face was flushed, partly from the kiss and partly from the shyness creeping in. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I’m not dating her, Blush,” he whispered, using the nickname that made you feel like home for the first time in what felt like forever.

You blinked, your heart stuttering at his words. “What?”

“I’m not dating her,” he repeated, his voice steady yet full of regret. “Yes, she proposed, and I didn’t reject her immediately, but that was only because there were so many people around. I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of everyone.” His hand dropped to yours, holding it firmly. “I told her in private afterward that I love someone else. That I love you.”

Your breath hitched as he confessed, his gaze never leaving yours. “She said she needed help with a project, and after rejecting her, I couldn’t say no. So, I left with her, but I didn’t want to. I just... I’m sorry, Blush. I love you, and only you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as his words sank in. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “And those names,” he continued, his voice low, “I never liked them. It always felt like they were calling a baby, but I didn’t care enough to stop them because... well, they didn’t matter to me. The only person who matters is you.”

His words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it tight. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down, crashing your lips against his. The kiss was urgent, desperate, full of everything you’d been holding back for so long. His arms wound around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

After what felt like an eternity, you broke the kiss, both of you panting, foreheads pressed together. “I love you too, Jungkook,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

His arms tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “I’ve loved you for so long,” he murmured against your skin. “I was just too scared to lose you.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “You won’t lose me,” you promised, your hand cupping his cheek. “Not now, not ever.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as if he were savouring the moment. “That's a good thing because... I'm planning to keep you forever and ever and ever. I’m never letting you go,” he vowed, his voice firm, and you knew he meant every word.

Jungkook’s arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you even closer, as if afraid you might disappear. His forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm on your skin. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked into your eyes, the intensity of his earlier emotions fading into something softer, something tender.

“Happy birthday, Blush,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

Before you could even respond, he suddenly scooped you up into his arms, making you squeal in surprise. He laughed, the sound full of joy, as he began to twirl you around. The world spun around you, the colours of the room blurring together, but all you could focus on was him. The way his eyes sparkled with happiness, the way his grip on you was firm yet gentle, and the way his laughter filled your heart with warmth.

“Jungkook!” you laughed, holding onto his shoulders, feeling like you were floating. “Put me down!”

“Never,” he teased, twirling you faster. “Not until I’ve spun you around enough to make up for all those tears.”

Your laughter mingled with his, and the room filled with the sound of your shared happiness. Finally, when he slowed to a stop, he carefully set you down, though his arms stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close. You were both a little dizzy, swaying slightly, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was being in his arms, feeling his warmth, and knowing that he loved you.

Jungkook’s hands gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he looked at you with a smile that made your heart melt. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmured. “I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times, but it’s so much better than I ever dreamed.”

You smiled back at him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” you confessed softly.

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. “I'm sorry for making you cry. I won't ever make you cry again,” he promised. “I always knew you love me I just... I was... I tried to tell you many times but everytime it felt like it's not the right time, I'm sorry my love. I promise I'll make up for all those tears I've caused you because of my stupidity. Gosh! I just love you so much, Blush.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears. You leaned into his touch, feeling safe, loved, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

Jungkook’s arms slid around your waist again, and before you could say anything, he lifted you off your feet once more, spinning you around slowly this time, his smile wide and full of love.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispered as he twirled you gently.

Part 2?

Wow, you made it to the end! Honestly, that deserves a medal or maybe some serious painkillers. If you’re still breathing and not currently plotting my demise for making you read this—congrats, you’re a legend. If you’re crawling towards me with murder in your eyes, don’t worry, I get it. I cringed so hard writing this that I think I bruised a rib.

I know, I know. This is like a bad joke that just won’t end. I’m cringing harder than you are. But hey, sometimes you just need to unleash your inner masochist and share the pain. I posted it because I felt like it. So, let’s bond over this collective trauma, or you can just plot my demise in peace. Either way, thanks for sticking around and surviving this with me. Here’s to us—brave souls navigating the wreckage of my writing. Cheers!

a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! I'd love to hear!

[longlivetv]

I’ve talked about this with a couple friends but I really think the Anti-Hero video perfectly demonstrates a major theme of the album of continuing down paths she doesn’t want to be on anymore because someone is telling her or she’s telling herself it’s where she should be, and the journey she went on of learning how to say no or turn back or push through to find a path that is truly where she should be

[wordsarelife]

—august

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo chose you and still you wonder why he even broke up with his ex in the first place

warnings: feeling like the wrong choice, insecure reader, angst but fluff ending

notes: i just wrote a little drabble since i already had a planned fic ready for lacy, i hope you still like it!

her hair was flowing effortlessly over her shoulders, caressing her back like it was some sort of clothing. she looked effortlessly pretty in general, soft pink lips and warm brown eyes reflecting the light of the sun when she would walk through the courtyard.

and the worst thing about her? she was nice. simply put. you couldn’t even manage to hate her, because next to being beautiful, she had a charming personality, a great sense of humor and friends everywhere she went.

you had understood if she had hated you. you, the new girlfriend of her first great love. but she didn’t and that made it impossibly worse.

“hey, y/n” she had greeted one morning, a smile plastered on her face and happiness reflecting in her eyes. “theo mentioned that you had some problems regarding the divination essay” she said and added, before you were able to retort something: “i finished mine a few days ago and thought it might help you to read over it. it was indeed a very hard task, i struggled too”

“oh” you had said, dumbfounded, and stared at the pieces of parchment she was holding in your direction. “thank you, aurora”

“no problem” she grinned. “and rory is fine, all my friends call me that”

she had left in a hurry, having to return books to the library, and you spent your time looking after her in awe, surprise and insecurity flooding your features.

it was beyond you why mattheo had decided to break up with her. aurora turner was simply perfect and you certainly weren’t.

"what's going on in there, huh?" mattheo slipped into the space beside you, touching your head with one of his fingers softly.

"oh, nothing" you quickly excused, taking your eyes off of aurora and looking to the book in front of you. "this reading for muggle studies is just taking up my brain"

"romeo and juliet?" mattheo questioned, studying the leatherbound book.

"yeah" you sighed. "the english is kinda off"

"i know" he shrugged, turning the book around in his hands and opening it to a random page.

"you know?" you repeated, trying not to laugh. "i never as much saw you look at a book before"

"i liked this one" he smiled.

your smirk died down. "oh, i didn't know that" you tried to find his eyes. "why did you never mention it? i would've read it sooner then"

"it's not a big deal, that was ages ago" he paused, unsure if it was okay to finish the sentence, but you urged him on, nodding repeatedly so he would continue. "rory liked it"

"oh" you said plainly, before you realized that your reaction was all the more telling of your inner jealousy and insecurity about his old relationship. "i mean cool"

"y/n" mattheo muttered, laying the book down in front of you. "it really doesn't matter. we don't even have to mention it again"

"i don't want you to feel like you can't tell me something, just because you experienced it with your ex" you smiled, but it was costing you all your strength. "you can talk about the past, it doesn't bother me"

"that's clearly a lie" mattheo saw through you completely. "you shouldn't have to hide your feelings to make me feel better"

you sighed, realising that it was to no use to lie to him. "sorry, i just—" you shook your head "i don't even know why you decided to break up with her in the first place and i think i'm scared that you'll realize that at one point too"

mattheo looked at you with a soft smile, his gaze searching your eyes as if trying to convey everything he felt with just that look. "y/n, i'm gonna be honest. it’s not that rory wasn’t great," he began, his tone gentle. "she is a really good person, and there was nothing wrong with her. but that doesn’t mean she was the right person for me."

you blinked, trying to process his words as he continued.

"i realized that being with someone just because they seem perfect on the surface doesn’t mean it’s the right fit. we just didn’t connect in the way i needed. with you..." he hesitated, as if searching for the right words, "...it’s different. you make me feel understood. you get me in a way that no one else does."

you looked at him with so much admiration that he had to look down, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

"look" he said, when he was able to look in your eyes again. "dating rory was like constantly standing on a pedestal and people expecting me to be something different than i was. that didn't feel right, and it shouldn't. but being with you feels like coming home after a long day, realizing that there's someone in my corner even if no one else likes me for who i am and not for who they see in me"

"i didn't know you felt like that" you muttered, ashamed that you had possibly made him uncomfortable.

"i don't, not anymore" he smiled. "not since i met you. because i don't care about the others. i just care about us, you and me"

"i love you" you said as he kissed your cheek, pulling you closer by your waist.

"i love you" mattheo mumbled against your mouth. "don't ever think you're worth less than her, just because you're not her. if anything that's what makes you more special to me"

you nodded, teary-eyed, as he pushed his lips forward to meet yours. your hands toyed with the hem of his curls as he deepend the kiss.

after that day you never questioned mattheo's choice again. and you could see that both him and rory held a lot of respect for each other. but both were not even interested in anything deeper. mattheo never looked up when he heard her voice anywhere. rory never came to the tree you had often seen them kissing at, back when they had been together.

you realized that being enough for mattheo had never meant being perfect—it had only ever meant being yourself.

[iwanthermidnightz]

When I think back on the Speak Now album, I get a lump in my throat. I have a feeling it will always be that way, because this period of time was so vibrantly aglow with the last light of the setting sun of my childhood. I made this album, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. I've spoken about how I feel like those ages are the most emotionally turbulent ones in a persons life. Maybe when I say that, I'm really just talking about myself.

I think they might just be the most idealistic, hopeful years too. At this point in my life, I had released my second album, Fearless. It became the breakthrough moment I'd always dreamt of, one that catapulted my career to new realms of success. It had brought with it a tidal wave of pressures and pitfalls and growing pains. All the while, I was encountering the milestones and checkpoints of normal teenage growth. I had cataclysmic crushes and brushes with heartache. I moved out of my parents' house and set my bags down in a new apartment. I hung photos on my own walls and decorated the space where I would sob and cackle and shatter and dream. Sometimes I felt like a grown up, but a lot of the time I just wanted to time travel back to my childhood bed, where my mom would read stories to me until I fell asleep.

In my darker moments, I was tormented by the doubt that swirled loudly around my ascent and my merits as an artist. I was trying to create a follow up to the most awarded country album in history, while staring directly into the face of intense criticism. I had been widely and publicly slammed for my singing voice and was first encountering the infuriating question that is unfortunately still lobbed at me to this day: does she really write her songs? Spoiler alert: I really, really do.

In the years since, I've developed a thicker skin about public criticism and the cynicism with which some people approach the music I make. At that time, it leveled me. I had these voices in my head telling me that I had the perfect chance and I blew it. I hadn’t been good enough. I had given it all I had and been found wanting.

I wanted to get better, to challenge myself, and to build on my skills as a writer, an artist, and a performer. I didn't want to just be handed respect and acceptance in my field. I wanted to earn it. To try and confront these demons, I underwent extensive vocal training and made a decision that would completely define this album: I decided I would write it entirely on my own. I figured, they couldn't give all the credit to my cowriters if there weren't any. But that posed a new challenge: It really had to be good. If it wasn't, I would be proving my critics right.

I had no idea how much this pain would shape me. That this was the beginning of my series of creative choices made by reacting to setbacks with defiance. That my stubbornness in the face of doubters and dissenters would become my coping mechanism through my entire career from that point forward. This exact pattern of enacting my own form of rebellion when I feel broken is exactly why you're reading these very words, and I'm re-releasing this album now.

I went through my first worldwide scandal (the mic grab seen around the world). I experienced the weirdness of trying to get to know a boy while a swarm of paparazzi surrounds the car. Media contacting my publicist for an official statement on why two teenagers broke up. These are weird experiences to have at any age, but even more surreal when you're 19.

I had the nagging sense that in the most intense moments of my life, I had frozen. I had said nothing publicly. I still don't know if it was out of instinct, not wanting to seem impolite, or just overwhelming fear. But I made sure to say it all in these songs. I decided to call the album Speak Now. It was a play on the speak now or forever hold your peace' moment in weddings, but for me it symbolized a chance to respond to the chatter and commentary around my own life.

Some of these emotional revelations were surprising to people. Some expected anger and instead got compassion and empathy with 'Innocent'. Some expected a kiss-off breakup song but instead got a hand-on-heart apology, 'Back to December. It was an album that was the most precious to me because of its vast extremes. It was unfiltered and potent. In my mind, the saddest song I've ever written is 'Last Kiss'. My most scathing is 'Dear John' and my most wistfully romantic is 'Enchanted'.

I'll be forever proud of setting a goal and seeing it through. I'lI always feel shivers all over when I remember singing 'Long Live' to close the show every night on tour. The outstretched hands of those bright and beautiful faces of the fans. Their support was like an open palm that reached out and helped me up off the ground when others were, frankly, mean.

These days I make my choices for those people, the ones who thought I had been good enough all along. I try to speak my mind when I feel strongly, in the moment I feel it. I'm still idealistic and earnest about the music I make, but I'm less crushed when people mock me for it. I know now that one of the bravest things a person can do is create something with unblinking sincerity, to put it all on the line. I still sometimes wish I was a little kid again in a tiny bed, before I ever grew up.

I always looked at this album as my album, and the lump in my throat expands to a quivering voice as I say this. Thanks to you, dear reader, it finally will be.

I consider this music to be, along with your faith in me, the best thing that's ever been mine.

Yours,

Taylor

[clockwayswrites]

Danny & Constantine, Orange, Butterscotch Ripple

@imbreonix Prompt fill set #4

It started out as a joke that turned into an actual event: Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It sounded absurd, of course it did. The Justice League was hardly work and certainly not a social club, but once it had been said people started to actually think about it. More and more of the heroes were taking on mentorship rolls for the next generation. While the heroes, of course, tried their best to provide what their mentees needed, they were still grown, experienced heroes and their sidekicks were kids.

Kids who lived a life that most could never understand.

Eventually it have been talked about enough in passing and over rushed meals and before meetings that it ended up on the agenda.

“Robin believes it would be beneficial for the younger heroes to know others in the same positions as themselves,” Batman had explained, as if that answered anything. The Big Bat wouldn’t even clarify who Robin was.

But there they were, Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It actually was a pretty nice event with snacks, drinks, and several enthusiastic sidekicks. It turned out Robin was Batman’s sidekick.

“Partner,” Robin insisted boldly, whenever the term sidekick was used within his hear range (which was disturbingly good).

The kid was the very opposite of Batman: bright, personable, and always in motion. Flash was more than a little concerned how quickly Robin and Kid Flash seemed hit it off. “They’re plotting something.”

“Hn,” was Batman’s reply, though he was watching the two whispering sidekicks too.

All in all it was a cheerful success.

It made John’s skin crawl. He jiggled the unlit cigarette in his fingers. He didn’t do social events, not outside of bars, and he really, really didn’t want to be here.

“We can just go back to the House,” a small, nervous voice suggested hopefully from behind John.

That was the thing, though, he wasn’t here for his own sake.

“No, we can’t,” John said with a sigh.

“We really can, though. We haven’t even talked to anyone. I bet they haven’t even noticed we’re here—”

“John! I did not think you would be attending,” Wonder Woman said as she approached, a smile in place. A good chunk of the founding members trailed after her.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, well,” John said with a little shrug. He didn’t admonish the kid for cussing, he didn’t have a leg to stand on there, but by Superman’s puzzled face the Big Blue had clearly heard it. “Figured I had better bring the kid.”

“The kid?” Hal repeated incredulously.

John reminded himself he really shouldn’t punch his teammates.

“Yeah, the kid,” John said. He stepped aside to reveal Danny who had been hiding behind him. “Geist, Justice League, Justice League, Poltergeist.”

“Um, who, Constantine?” Flash asked, sounding nervous.

John looked to his right, which for all appearances, was an empty spot of air. “Seriously, kid?”

“Sorry,” Danny whispered.

“It’s okay, kid,” John said, holding back a sigh. The kid was sensitive to that sort of thing, so John had been trying. (He still messed up plenty, but he was trying.) John looked back the Justice Leaguers and shrugged. “Ghost. Visibility is like that sometimes.”

“Ah,” Diana said with a sage nod. John admired the woman for how nothing seemed to phase her. She simply looked to where John had been looking and smiled. “Hello, Poltergeist. Welcome to Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day.”

“Partner!” a kid dressed like a damn traffic light called from across the room where he was talking to who was clearly a mini Flash.

“Oh,” Danny said. (It was clearly weirding out some of the heroes to hear Danny but not see him.) “I’m not… John doesn’t let me help that much? I don’t know if I count as a sidekick.”

“That’s because last time you tagged along you went intangible and fell through a bridge, kid,” John grumbled and then immediately felt bad. “You know we’re working on it.”

“Yeah,” Danny mumbled.

John couldn’t see Danny, not any more than the others, but he could picture the way the kid would be scuffing his toe on the floor, head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

John sighed. “Ain’t your fault kid, powers take time to master.”

“Robin,” Batman called.

Immediately the tiny traffic light was literately bounding across the space to stand next to Batman. The kid smiled up at the Big Bat like the man had hung the moon.

“Yes, B?”

“This,” Batman said, nodding to the empty space, “is Poltergeist. He came with Constantine.”

“Oh,” Robin said. He spun to face the spot of air and held out his hand without hesitation. “Come, Kid Flash and I are— um,” Robin shot Batman a look, “talking. You can join us! I bet you will be really useful!”

Flash mouthed the word ‘useful’ with a terrified look on his face, but no one actually said anything while Robin just stood there, smiling, with his hand out. And then Robin’s grin impossibly widened, his hand closed around nothing, and he took off across the room.

“…anyone else worried about that?” John asked after a moment.

“So worried,” Flash said.

“Hn,” Batman added.

“Right then. I need a glass of shitty punch to spike,” John said and abandoned his teammates to find the refreshments. Thank the gods, the fuckers, for hip flasks.

-

“I live with a ghost now, Bats, you’ve got to up your skills if you want to sneak up on me anymore,” John said before taking another sip of his much improved punch.

Batman stepped up into the corner of John’s vision, which felt like such a Bat thing to do, so John felt the placement was very purposeful. John wouldn’t complain, it let him watch Batman without taking his his eyes off where Danny was sitting with Robin, Kid Flash, and Wonder Girl. Danny was pretty see through, but he was slowly becoming more visible the longer he spent in the company of the other teen heroes.

“How long have you had him?” Batman asked.

John snorted. “That’s what you go with? Not how it works to fuck a ghost?”

Hal and Aquaman weren’t as quiet as they thought they were, but maybe that was on purpose. Maybe they had wanted John to hear. He just hoped the kids hadn’t. He might not have a clean mouth, but even he had limits.

“He doesn’t have to be your blood to be your son,” Batman said in that certain way of his.

It had John finally glancing over at Batman. It was a lot to admit and John hated to be on uneven grounds. “How long have you had yours?”

No one would ever believe him, but John could swear that Batman almost smiled.

“Nearly five years.”

John hummed and took another sip of the punch. “Only six months, not even. And he’s not my son. Kid deserves better than me as a da.”

“They always deserve better,” Batman said, his voice a low rumble that John swore he could feel in his battered bones. “We just have to try to be better.”

“Yeah, well,” John said with a bitter chuckle. “I’m not you, Bats, I don’t think I have better in me.”

“Yes you do, you’re here, after all,” Batman pointed out.

John swallowed and looked back the kid, his kid. Danny was almost solid now. His white hair floated as he threw back his head in laughter at something Robin had said.

“Yeah… yeah I am.”

---

AN: So. So. This has gotten away from me. I blame Moku. So much blame. I can't promise I'll continue it but there is... there is a good bit of plotting TO continue it. It would be after I get done with City Pigeons Bleed Green though, as that's my current family feels fic.

If it gets continued we have a John/Bruce tired dads with issues slow burn fuck buddies to lovers, Danny and Dick being friends (and family), canon divergence, Tim joins the Bat family early, Bats with magic (and the world should fear them), and Alfred's judgemental eyebrow.

[lizlovestofangirl]

how they say sorry

ఌ︎ driver blurb featuring... oscar, lando, daniel, max, carlos, ollie

ఌ︎ letter from liz... first driver blurb wooooo!! i got a little carried away/off topic, but i'm overall pretty proud of this

ఌ︎ warning... descriptions of sex, angst

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

ᡣ𐭩 oscar piastri...

oscar tried to give you space but eventually couldn't take it anymore. he quietly padded through the hallway to your shared bedroom, and his heart broke when he pressed his ear up against the door and heard you crying. he knew it was his fault, that he snapped and was too harsh. he slowly opened the door and called your name. upon seeing you, looking so deflated, his heart broke. all you wanted in that moment was to be held, and he could sense that. he kept you close to him, his hand lightly holding your face into his neck. you felt him press soft kisses to your hairline and heard him mumble a million apologies until your sobs died down. when you finally pulled away to look at him, you saw his own tears and he gave you a final apology, this one stronger and more raw.

ᡣ𐭩 lando norris...

lando has never been in tune with his emotions. that night in particular, he was angry. so, so angry. he wasn't angry at you, but it sure seemed like it as he screamed about all the things he wished you'd done differently that day. you start to cry and he realizes what he's done, but simply walks away. he left for a little bit, driving through monaco and thinking. when he gets back, he finds you cooking dinner. just like he had barked at you to do. he walked up behind you and slowly pulled you into his arms. his heart shattered when you flinched at his touch. he tells you he knows he was out of line, that he wasn't angry with you, and that he understands if you can't forgive him right now. he sat across from you timidly at dinner, what a contrast from what you had experienced an hour ago. you wanted to forgive him so desperately, but needed more time. lando sat next to you while you watched your favorite show, and apologized one more time before you went to get ready for bed. he settled down next to you and almost died of happiness when you reached for him. he uttered one last apology, this time with forgiveness from the other side.

ᡣ𐭩 daniel ricciardo...

daniel doesn't screw up often, and that almost makes it more painful when he does. he is the quickest to realize the impact of his actions, immediately wishing he could eat his words. right after, he froze for a second. as soon as he regained thought, he walked towards you and pulled you into a hug. arms around your waist, his chin on top of your head. "i'm so sorry, my love," he whispered into your hair. daniel is easy to forgive because you can tell how genuine he is. he has the emotional intelligence to be able to identify his mistakes, fix them, and then be able to salvage the evening. he makes dinner and you two ate happily together. to finish off the night, he fucked you soft and sweet, whispering dirty yet loving things into your ear.

ᡣ𐭩 max verstappen...

max had a hard time growing up. everyone knows that, but especially you. sometimes the stress of everything gets too much and he just breaks. unfortunately, sometimes he also ends up hurting his favorite person in the world. if you waited long enough max would go and apologize, but it works better if you go to him. you didn't say anything, instead opting to quietly approach him on the couch and snuggle up to him. you could feel him relax the second your body touches his. "i'm so sorry. that wasn't fair to you," he murmured into your hair as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. it took time to get to this stage in your relationship, but now max can talk things out with you. not yell, talk. talk with undertones of understanding, compassion, and love. he must have told you he loved you a million times while you sat there together, and he would tell you a million more times to get you to believe it.

ᡣ𐭩 carlos sainz...

you had already moved to your bedroom, seeking the comfort of silence, but carlos was still standing in the kitchen. the look on his face was comically priceless. you could see the wheels turning as he realized how badly he had fucked up. the second he snapped out of it, he chased you down the hallway and opened the door as fast as he could. he knelt down on the ground and took your hands in his as you sat on the edge of the bed. you were crying, and he hated himself for being the reason. he knows there is no excuse and told you so, but still explained what's been going on with him. after he apologized one last time, he asked if the two of you were ok. the second you nodded your head, he got up and walked took you into his arms, holding you there in fear of you slipping through his fingers. he would die if he ever lost you.

ᡣ𐭩 ollie bearman...

ollie is the sweetest boyfriend ever. there has never been any yelling for him to apologize for. however with the new steps in his career, he is spending a lot of time away from home, and away from you. that night he had gotten home from a huge weekend. he greeted you with a sweet kiss and then pulled you in for a hug and just held you there for a little bit. to his absolute horror, you started to cry. "no, no it's okay. what's wrong, baby?" his sweet tone made you nauseous, because while he had done nothing technically wrong, you had felt abandoned and been imagining his return for what felt like forever. and now you were crying instead of eating the dinner you had made. he lead you to the couch and continued to hold you, patiently waiting for you to explain why you were so upset. when you told him, you could see the pain on his face. "oh, baby, i'm so sorry," he rushed to say. he knew exactly what to say after that. exactly what to promise and plan. he didn't you let go for the rest of the night unless absolutely necessary, going as far as to rest his chin on your shoulder while you got ready for bed. you both slept like babies that night because you were finally back together. the best part? you wouldn't be spending so much time alone in the future.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Not So Grumpy (Part 2)

Part 1 Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!pregnant!wife!reader

Summary: Months after being introduced to the rookies, you get a chance to see them again. After your baby is born and Tim's grumpiness continues, you finally have a chance to properly meet them.

Warnings: grumpy!Tim is a softie for his wife and baby, there's a baby but no details about labor or anything, lots and lots of fluff, Wopez spoilers (s1-2)

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: This was better in my head. Oh well.

It’s been almost three months since Tim “introduced” you to the rookies. While you’ve been prepping the nursery, attending doctor’s appointments, and trying different stretches to prepare your body for labor, you haven’t seen Tim any more or less than usual. Halfway through your pregnancy, he got clingy with you and grumpy with everyone else. Though you haven’t been around the station recently, you assume that hasn’t changed. While thinking about Tim, you gasp and hold your stomach as you breathe through a contraction. You’re ready to meet your baby but still have a while to go. Plus, you have to make sure Tim is there. He’s grumpy enough without missing the birth of his first child.

You found the perfect onesie during your trip to the store and can’t wait to show Tim. You and Tim decided not to learn the gender of your baby, and the neutral-colored onesie with a police car and “My Dad’s a Superhero” made you smile, so you had to buy it. Plus, you’re experiencing contractions and miss Tim, so you drop by the station unannounced.

As you walk in, someone calls your name. You look up and smile when you see Angela Lopez waving.

“Hi, Officer Lopez,” you greet.

“Please, it’s Angela. Are you here to see Tim?”

“I am.”

“I don’t know where he is but come with me. We’ll find him.”

“Thank you.”

“How is everything? With Tim and the pregnancy?”

“Good. Baby’s healthy, Tim is amazing.”

Angela snorts before she tries to cover it with a cough. You don’t have time to ask her what is so funny before someone else says your name. At least you recognize the voice this time.

“Hi, Tim,” you reply with a smile.

He nods once before he takes your hand and leads you away from Angela. You wave over your shoulder, and she smiles knowingly.  Alone in an empty hallway, you extend the bag toward Tim. He takes it but sets it down to hug you before opening it.

“You okay?” you ask as he pulls you close.

“Better now,” he answers softly.

“I can’t imagine you being grumpy,” you answer, rubbing your hand along his spine.

“I miss you.”

“Just a few more weeks and then you’ll spend every minute with me and a baby. You’ll be begging to come back.”

Tim pulls back and rolls his eyes at you. You know he will be a great father because he’s already an amazing husband. Not that you’d admit it, but you’ve been counting the minutes until he gets to stay home with you and help you recover and care for your baby.

“Officer Bradford,” someone says at the end of the hallway.

You step back and take the onesie from Tim as he turns.

“What?” he replies shortly.

“Grey needs to see us in ten minutes,” Angela adds, pushing her rookie Jackson away from Tim.

“Then I’ll be there in ten minutes. For now, leave me alone.”

“Angela,” you say, stepping to Tim’s side. “Thanks for the gift. I really appreciate it.”

Tim takes a deep breath before thanking her. She sent a gift home with him months ago, even though she didn’t really know you.

“Of course. I’m glad you like it,” Angela replies.

“And I’d- we’d- love to have you over for dinner after everything settles down. And Jackson, Lucy, and Nolan can come too, if they’d like.”

“We can?” Lucy asks excitedly. She steps around the corner and looks at you rather than Tim’s glare.

“About time we get to meet properly, right?” you reply.

“I’m going to go tell them,” Lucy cheers before disappearing again.

“Don’t you dare,” Tim snaps. “You got an invite. Learn to keep personal matters personal, Chen.”

You wrap your hand around Tim’s forearm, and his shoulders drop as he exhales. There’s no apology, but he stops yelling at Lucy.

“Here,” you say.

Tim races to hold you as you bend down to retrieve the bag. He scolds you lovingly for moving too much before he takes it from your hand. You smile and nod toward the bag. Tim shakes his head in loving annoyance before pulling the onesie out. He holds it up to read it, and his face softens as every semblance of grumpiness disappears.

Throughout the progression of your pregnancy, as his paternity leave gets closer, Tim has grown less grumpy. Part of him hates that he has missed so much of your pregnancy, though, and that anger and disappointment comes out at work. As he folds the onesie and places it back in the bag, he pulls you against his side and kisses your temple.

“Superhero, huh?” he asks.

“We think so,” you answer.

Tim looks down at where your hand rests on your bump and covers your hand with his.

“I promise not to miss so much next time,” he whispers.

“You haven’t missed anything,” you assure him. “Make sure you’re at the hospital to catch the baby, that’s all I need.”

“I will be. I’ll be there the moment your water breaks.”

You smile and tilt your head to kiss Tim’s jaw. “Wait, next time?”

5 Months Later

“Hi, Angela!” you say as you open the door. You pull her into a hug before leading her toward the kitchen. “How’s everything with Wesley?”

“Good. I found out he’s, like, disgustingly rich, so that was something,” Angela answers.

“Interesting,” you agree. “And the mom situation?”

“Remedied. I can understand his side of it now, too.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Tim asks from the kitchen. “He’s a lawyer, that’s all I know, and I have to see Angela every day.”

“Have to see,” Angela scoffs. “We’re BFFs, just admit it.”

“No.”

Someone else knocks, and you remind Tim to be kind as you leave to invite everyone in. Lucy, Nolan, and Jackson are waiting excitedly at your door. Lucy hands you a small gift bag as she enters.

“Thank you,” you say. “Come on in. Kitchen’s this way.”

The baby monitor on the island blinks before your baby’s cries fill the kitchen.

“I got it,” Tim murmurs. He picks up the monitor and drags a hand across your back as he walks toward the nursery.

“Did you find a solution to the closet problem?” Lucy asks as she sits beside you. “Oh, and you look amazing by the way.”

“Thank you. And I did.” You chuckle before pointing out, “You text with questions about where to go for a second date and I’m asking about storage solution for newborn clothes.”

“Because you’re happily married and not destroying your apartment in an attempt to look good for a guy who calls you the wrong name,” Jackson adds.

“Jackson!” Lucy exclaims.

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

“You text them?” Tim asks as he returns with your baby in his arms.

“Oh my gosh,” Lucy coos at the sight.

Tim narrows his eyes at her before looking back at you.

“Yes, I do. You wouldn’t introduce us, so I took it into my own hands,” you answer. “You need anything?”

“Hey, how long have you guys been together?” Nolan asks.

“I don’t like this,” Tim complains as he returns to the kitchen.

“He’ll drop the act soon,” you whisper conspiratorially.

“It’s not an act,” Tim calls. “So, it will go away when they do!”

After your dinner company leaves, you take care of the dishes while Tim spends quality time with your baby. As you walk into the room, he extends an arm toward you. You make yourself comfortable against his side as Tim holds the baby against his chest. He may be grumpy with everyone but the two of you, but you wouldn’t change a thing, and Tim wouldn’t either.

“I love you,” you whisper in the comfort of your shared home and life.

“I love you,” Tim replies. “Enough that I can stop being grumpy.”

[damiansgoodgirll]

damian priest x reader, damian gets jealous when the reader gets to be paired in a tag team match with another male superstar and celebrate their tag team win

damian priest x reader

‼️jealous damian, mention of smut but no actual smut

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

goin’ crazy

“that’s not fair” your boyfriend damian blurted out while you were finishing getting ready for your match.

it’s not like you had any choice. you were offered a tag team match against seth and becky and you couldn’t say no.

damian wasn’t really happy when you got paired with drew. heavily despising the scottish, damian couldn’t understand why he wasn’t picked instead of drew.

“damian…” you called him “it’s just a match, it’s just work…”

“i know but still, i don’t understand why they picked drew instead of me…we work so good together and we have some power moves that would make becky and seth on their knees” damian was complaining like a toddler.

“because this feud is between seth, drew and punk…you already have enough to care about with the judgment day, plus you have a match later on…damian, trust me, it’s going to be okay” you tried to calm him down.

it’s not that damian didn’t trust you.

he didn’t trust drew.

he didn’t trust no man near you, especially when he would have to touch you.

“i know but”

“no buts damian” you turned to face him once you were done with your make up “it’s just work…you should know this better than anyone else” you smiled at him.

“you’re right…” he gave up, knowing that complaining with you would only make you more angry.

“now, can you give me a good luck kiss or do i have to ask drew for that too?” you joked, making damian to arch his brows.

“come here before i bend you over and i show drew what he could never have” he smirked at you, holding you close by your hips and kissing your lips. his strong hands were moving from your hips to your back, making you shiver under his touch while his lips softly played with yours, kissing and biting them.

“damian…i’m gonna be late” you whispered against his lips.

“maybe i want you to be late” he said making you laugh as he kissed you again.

“okay, now i really have to go…wish me good luck” you said smiling at him.

damian knew that no matter how jealous he was, he couldn’t ruin your happiness so he pretended everything was okay just to see you smile again and again “okay, good luck on the match, see you after that! kick some asses out there” he said making you laugh.

he stayed backstage, rhea later on joined him too.

“i’m going crazy” he said making her laugh.

he was watching you through the tv in your changing room. seth and becky were already in the ring, you were waking side by side with drew. people thought that it was a crazy combination pairing you with drew but everyone was curious about it.

the match started pretty easily, just you and becky against each other, but it was when you shoved her against the corner that the real match began.

you wanted to win that match. for your fans, for damian, for drew, for you. you knew you were capable of doing it so. even if you weren’t as experienced as becky, you had big potential and you were ready to use it.

becky was clearly in distress so she moved to seth only to be blocked by you. you shoved her on the ground again, making her yelp from pain but in a split of second she was able to free herself and move to seth.

you turned around and moved to drew, changing your position and now cheering for him.

drew was stronger than seth, heavier and probably more pissed than he was so it started with drew attacking him and shoving him to the ground. you couldn’t deny that watching drew attacking seth, made you think that maybe you two were a good team.

it was good match but when you saw drew getting more tired, you offered him your hand just to be yanked off the ring by becky.

now you were the one in pain. you heard the referee counting but he stopped at two as drew didn’t give up.

when you got up becky wanted to hit you but she saw an opportunity to distract drew to make them win but you didn’t let her so when she was about to get on the ring, you strongly grabbed her from the ankle and threw her off just like she did with you.

in that moment you saw that as an opportunity to distract seth to make drew win so, to everyone shock, you claymore-d seth, making his body go limp inside the ring.

you heard everyone cheering for you. drew was shocked. rhea and damian were shocked too watching the match backstage.

drew took the opportunity you gave him and pinned seth, making the referee count to three and making you win the match.

“oh my…” you joined drew on the ring, celebrating with him. he was genuinely happy, he took your arm and raised it like the referee did.

“you did good” he smiled at you.

“you too!” you congratulated him.

damian was happy for your match but he couldn’t help the jealousy when he saw you and drew smiling at each other.

in the meantime drew accompanied you backstage “that was a good match y/n…anytime you want to train just let me know okay?”

“absolutely! i loved being tag team with you” you smiled, not realising that damian was behind you two. he wanted to welcome you back after the match and he definitely wasn’t expecting to see you all chitchatting with drew.

“and that claymore? you surprised everyone!” he joked, making you laugh.

“i know…i watched many of your matches…i’ve always wanted to recreate that move” you joked.

“well…you did great and” before he could continue damian interrupted you both.

“congratulations on the match” you both turned to face him. his tone was pretty serious and drew took that as a sign to leave you alone “you watched his videos? you wanna train with him?” he asked, a little hint of jealousy in his voice.

you laughed, damian was definitely overreacting and you found it adorable “you know that drew is married, don’t you?” you teased him.

“if he’s married, why can’t he train with his wife?” he asked, coming closer to you.

“maybe cause she’s not a wrestler?” you teased him again, he hated the power you had on him “plus, you can’t deny we did good! it was incredible!”

“fair…and yes, it was a good match, you really surprised me with that claymore” he smiled against your lips “you surprised everyone” he said before kissing you softly “me too”

you melted into the kiss. it was soft, not like the one he gave you before the match. this kiss showed how much he trusted you.

“go get ready for your match” you smiled against his lips “and if you win you might get a surprise tonight” you winked before leaving him alone, watching as you left.

oh, he definitely was going to win that match for you.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yanderes in a Zombie Apocalypse...The Kind Survivor

Imagine the zombie apocalypse starts and suddenly the entire world itself is turned upside down. Those who survive are the ones who can adapt quickly or be lucky enough to be dragged by the former. You re some of the few that adapt turning everyday items into tools and weapons to guarantee your survival. While you could go at it alone you don’t. Shaking your coworker or classmate out of their horror-stricken state and saving them from being eaten. 

“Hey you better move it or you’ll end up just like them.”

Maybe you know you’ll be lonely or that you can’t leave someone behind or maybe it's because it's them. Always so forthcoming and so kind to you before the world turned into this. Maybe you consider this payback for their hospitality, either way, you’re leading them away from the danger to regroup somewhere safe.

“T-thank you (Y/n).”

“It's fine, Wendall. Just keep moving we can’t rest here.”

“Right!”

He’s the Kind Survivor, the one who holds onto his sweet, trusting persona. Leaving you to be the untrusting hardened protector. Your roles become clear as you unwillingly are added to a group of fellow survivors. Of course, it’s him who proposes staying with the team still silently accepting your unspoken alliance. Even when the group discards your opinion for their own plan, he advocates for them, soothing your anger.

“I don’t trust them Wendy!”

“(Y/n) we can’t do this alone! We have to trust in them!”

“Until we can’t. What do you plan to do then?!”

“T-then we can leave. Okay (Y/n)...I’ll start thinking about us….about you more okay?”

“Thanks… I’ll be more open-minded.”

For a while, this will work, with your Kind Survivor becoming an important voice in the group while you gain their respect and reverie. Wendall couldn’t be happier, falling into a sense of normalcy as he watches you grow emotionally. For a while, this feels right. 

But this doesn’t last.

The first betrayal ruins him opens his eyes. One selfish member's actions put everyone at risk but who suffers the most is you. Led out on a fool’s errand only to be swarmed and backed into a corner. Nothing but your wits and survival instincts to let you lead the remaining scouts with you. You’re holed up in a roof for days, forced to stay quiet, stave your hunger, and remain vigilant. As you hoped, Wendall and the surviving group arrive with food and medicine as everyone reunites.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!”

“Hey, Wendy.”

“Oh, my–(Y/n) you can’t believe how happy I am to see you!”

“...I trusted you’d come…and you did.”

No one’s more happy to be reunited than your Kind Survivor who doesn’t dare relay the frustrating tale of that one’s betrayal. Only holding you close and rubbing his face against your head as he burns your scent into his memory all over again. It's another member who tells you while Wendall lasor focuses on checking you for any and all injuries. You don’t seem all that perturbed–your inclination to trust the others was right—all was well. Sure there was betrayal but you didn’t like that one member much at all so it wasn’t much of a deal to you. The same cannot be said for your Kind Survivor.

“I’m okay Wendy. I’m fine.”

“You haven’t eaten in days I wouldn’t call that fine.” 

“Wendy I–”

“Hush. Eat before anything…please.”

He’s still so sweet. Always so kind. But something's…amiss. The other members feel he’s not the same. Those on midnight watch find his eyes staring at your resting form, not even moving away when they joke with him. When he does turn to look at them, there’s something fiery, something dark lingering behind those eyes before he hides them with his typical amicable smile. They begin to fear him.

“Ah, Wendall-san?”

“What is it? Jjitjg?”

“Uh, nothing never mind.”

The members have a right to. Wendall is dealing with an anger he’s hardly ever experienced. All his life had been a constant string of highs—working his dream job, meeting you, getting to hang out with you. But then the world turned mad which didn’t initially scare him as much as it should. Somehow being saved and haphazardly comforted by you it still wasn’t so bad. He thought the same when you both joined the group. But when that one member betrayed the whole team it shattered him. How could they?! Leaving his (Y/n) out there! When they so courageously followed the so-called leader on this goose chase!? What was his baby doing now while they simply huddled in fear of that one?! How were you feeling being so far for so long?! 

He? He was dying. 

Would you be disgusted that your Kind Survivor was truly contemplating letting all the others die while he went to search for you? Disgusted in knowing that it was he who was behind that one’s sudden psychosis? He didn’t care!

But when he saw your smiling face he was relieved but still fuming. This..band of wretches was why you were bedded for a week. These worthless meat sacks were using up the supplies meant to take care of you. These fleas were eating all the food that should have rightfully belonged to you.

It was a rising resentment. Pushed down and suffocated every time so that he could steer this group right and properly encourage your latest streak of compassion. It made you so much more integral to the group, as a protector and a leader. 

It made his skin crawl. He was so proud of you.

It was another member’s incompetence that puts the nail in the coffin–the entire group’s coffins. Since the death of your old leader the group was out of sync; squabbling and running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Of course, the most incompetent one volunteered for the role; forcefully pressuring the others to follow their lead. It led to chaos. The chaos that relied on you to save everyone again. Again, forcing you to risk your life.

“This–this–this is the second time–”

“That I’ve survived the impossible? Don’t know, guess I’m just the best human shield there is.”

“No! This is the second time you’ve almost died because of them! I can’t–I can’t!”

He snaps. 

You can calm your Kind Survivor all you like but the damage has been done. He’ll bow and apologize to everyone who’s witnessed it. But he’s not sorry. He’s determined. At a moment's notice, he fights to free you from them even if you resist. Physically you might be able to overpower him but he shouldn’t be underestimated. After all your Kind Survivor has learned so much. So many ways to subdue you, so many ways to trick the group; running off with you will be easy. With so much time to plan he’ll get his plan off without a hitch. 

By the time he’s done, you’ll both be miles away from the ruins that were this ragtag team.

“I’m sorry (Y/n)...I thought we’d be safe with others. Now I know we’re better off on our own; where only we can trust each other.”

Your Kind Survivor has grown a lot and he’s learned not everyone’s worth both of your compassion. In fact, he’s made the executive decision to actively keep it and you all to himself.

By any means necessary.

[a-spes]

Hi I was rereading devious lies and I was thinking ab if nat and yn were to meet again and everything, yn would have the biggest trust issued ever. First her best friend took advantage of her and ruined her life, then the ones she considered family turned their backs on her without even letting her explain her side, and ofc how her lover shouted in her face that she's not welcome there anymore and how yn shouldn't even talk with her anymore ever. How the last time the team looked at her it was with anger and dissapointment That and also from the first part where she herself admitted to feeling like a stranger amongst her once friends and family.

Idk what you have in store for us for when you're feeling better and out of the writing block that you're currently experiencing, but I can't wait to read it. Take as long as you need, we're here!

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ₊ ⁺ ✦ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 ₊ . 　 ˚　. ✧ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊ ˚

₊ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ 　˚　 . 　⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　　 . 　  ˚ ˚ 　. ☁ ˚ 　. ˚ 　 ✩ ₊ ˚ . ☾ ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧   　　˚ ⁺

˚　 . ⤳ DEVIOUS LIES — Bonus part, 'the scars in our hearts' (6.280 words).

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ ⤳ SUMMARY — Anon request — “ It has been years since the events, and when you eventually got the chance to go back with them, you thought everything would be the way it used to be. except it wasn't. three years, almost four, is a lot of time, and the people you used to know and the building you called your home do not feel the same anymore. Maybe you've been gone for too long to hope to find a place in their new life. ”

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAGS & WARNINGS — Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Avenger!Reader, Female!Reader, Other Avengers x Reader (brief mention of them). Bittersweet, (kind of) angst with comfort. Self-doubt, mental health issues, mention of bad coping mechanisms, toxic relations.

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊

You’ve been told that you just needed a bit of time to adjust, because you come a long way, but they didn’t say how long ‘a bit of time’ was. So the months passed, they soon became years, and if you’ve still made no progress, you kept hoping. Every day, you repeat yourself that you only need ‘a bit more of time’ and that, soon, with just a little extra effort, everything will eventually be fine. 

Except that you’ve never been a patient person.

They made it sound easy. They made you believe that everything would go back to the way it used to be in weeks, and you’ve fallen for their sweet words because you were craving for them to be true. You have dreamed of that moment, and every day you’ve spent far from them was spent thinking about the day they would ask you to come back. It is a little fantasy you’ve been holding on to for the past few years, but the tears, hugs, and excuses you’ve spent hours to imagine never became a reality. No, you only got silent glances.

It has been almost three years since you came back, and it still wasn’t enough. Sometimes, you think about letting go of that dream of yours, the one that makes you believe that things could still get back to normal, even when nothing was —; but how could you do something like that? How could you possibly think about abandoning them again when they’ve been willing to give you a second chance? You weren’t ready yet to accept that the home you’ve been longing to return didn’t feel like it anymore, at least not without first trying your hardest to make things right. Thus you kept pushing yourself a bit more everyday, at the cost of your health — which seemed a very small price to pay in exchange for the feeling of being at home again.

Two years is not a lot of time in a human life but these years still felt like an eternity to you, and you’ve never been so aware of how long they have been as when you came back, realizing the gap that had opened up between you and the others. Your life has fallen apart that day, leaving you with such small pieces of yourself that you weren’t able to rebuild on your own —; but them? It is as if they’ve lost nothing. They’ve spent those two years building a life in which you’ve never existed, one that you are now supposed to find a place in. Every day is just a painful reminder of what you have lost, and will never get back despite your hopes. Your dream slipped away just when you touched it with your fingertips.

You have to accept that you are not a part of the system anymore, you are just the pebble that derails the machine, and that ruins everything —; but you should be used to it, shouldn’t you? To that feeling of shame and sorrow that your heart has been carrying for years, that feeling of failure and permanent disappointment.

Some nights, out of habit, you push the wrong door, and you find yourself in the room you used to share with Natasha. Once full of life, it had now become austere. Yet, there is something comforting about being in that room full of old memories, it is a bittersweet feeling that’s both like a heartbreak and a warm hug. You've never been much of a drinker, or at least you've always been careful enough not to get wasted. But you’ve made an exception tonight, because everything seemed to be too much, and you wouldn’t have survived the party if you hadn’t drowned everything in alcohol.

It is the way they kept laughing that got on your nerves, jealousy rising inside of you every time a new joke was told that you couldn’t understand “because you weren’t here” —; but Wanda wasn’t here either, and yet, she laughed along with them, why? Because she hasn’t lost her place with them, she is still a part of the family. They promised that they would tell their stories and explain their jokes later, because it was too long to do it now, but you were aware that it was just a lie to give you the impression that you weren’t on the sidelines.

It wasn’t very effective.

They spent the whole night telling stories that you couldn’t understand and sharing jokes you couldn’t laugh at, and while they remembered things that you didn’t have a chance to live by their side, giving you an overview of all the things you’ve missed, you were silently sitting on the couch, trying to ignore the knot in your throat. You didn’t even try to take part in the conversation —; what could you possibly have said anyway? You are not sure they would have wanted to hear about how miserable your life was when you were gone, how lonely and desperate you’ve been during these years. It would be an admission that you missed them, needed them.

Instead you kept your attention on the bottles of alcohol, at least they would never let you down —; that’s the advantage when the parties are organized by someone like Tony: you will never run out of booze. You were so uninvolved in what was going on around you, that you missed the worried glances that Natasha and Wanda shared, and they didn’t need to talk to understand each other, to know that they both had the same concerns.

Everyone does, but you’ve made it clear in your first few weeks back that you didn’t want their pity. There was no comfort in the way they looked at you and, quickly, their presence became too much. They were always there, never letting you completely alone despite the appearance and trying to meet your needs before you could even ask, pretending that they knew better than you do —; but they don’t. They have no idea of what you need, because how could they when you’re not even sure yourself?

The loneliness you’ve asked for isn’t more comforting, but at least it comes with familiar feelings, some that you’ve learned how to deal with the past few years. On the contrary, you still hadn’t gotten used to their presence, and you had no idea of how to deal with these contradictory feelings that were starting to grow inside of yourself. While a part of you wanted to lean in their embrace, the other rejected their overwhelming affection. A way of protecting yourself that won out, taking the form of uncontrolled anger and, after days of being yelled at and random objects being thrown at their faces, they’ve eventually got the hint that they should let you alone.

They’ve given up on you —; but that’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? 

You can’t be sure, but you are trying to convince yourself that it is better that way. You’re not worth the trouble, and they definitely can’t spend all their energy trying to save you when people are actually dying outside. You would be fine, you would get through it —; right? Because that’s what you’ve always done, and there is no reason that this time would be any different —; you are strong, with or without them by your side. You just need a little bit of time for your scars to heal and then, everything will be back the way it used to be. 

Except that, despite the appearances, those thoughts never really left your mind. Sometimes, you think about your return and what would have happened if they hadn’t found you that day —; maybe everything would have been easier. For you, sure, but also for them. You are not even sure they would have accepted your return if they had a choice —; you wouldn’t have. At least when you weren't there, there wasn't that constant tension that now reigned over the tower, one that followed you into every room you set foot in. 

So you’ve made a decision —; you would rebuild yourself without them. You would make a new name for yourself, a new life, even if it means leaving them behind. There is this growing will deep inside you, the one that feeds off your anger and jealousy, and it’s the one to get your revenge. You want them to suffer as much as you have, to realize what they’ve done, and regret every of their actions. You want them to crawl back at your feet, begging for your forgiveness because you are tired of being the only one to make efforts.

You have waited so long for them to say or do the right thing, but the moment has never come because they can’t possibly understand your situation, let alone knowing what you really need to get better —; how could they when you ignore it too? Nothing feels right anymore. You have tried a lot of things but nothing works. Your life is now like a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces refuse to fit together. There is no way to make things go back the way they were, you could only keep on pretending. 

And so you did, locking yourself into a routine. Each day you alternate between training, going on missions or attending meetings, leaving yourself little free time. This hectic schedule has the advantage of allowing you to avoid the presence of others and keeping you from thinking too much while making you more efficient —; it is perfect, isn’t it? It is, most of the time but, some days, the illusion falters, and the facade you’ve built shatters, revealing the truth you are trying to hide.

That’s how you found yourself stumbling into your old bedroom, the one that now smells of dust, desperate for some comfort and familiarity. You didn’t even make it to the bed, falling miserably asleep on the carpet —; you didn’t have the strength to get up when you tripped over your own feet, too drunk to take more than a few clumsy steps.

⊱ ★ ⊰

There is only one person in the team who is willing to give you the space you asked for without agreeing to give up on you yet —; and it is Natasha.

You may not notice it, but the woman has always been here for you since you came back to live with them. It must be said that her gestures are minute, almost imperceptible, but they always manage to draw a slight smile on your lips without you realizing it —; she was perfectly aware that if you knew it was from her, you would start hating on those little things that made your daily life at the tower a little sweeter.

She is the one who always accidentally cooks more food than she needed, making sure there was always a portion waiting for you in the fridge. She is the one who makes sure that your favorite cutlery is always clean. She is the one who buys your favorite flowers to put them in the common room’s vase and never lets them fester. She is the only one who has taken the time to make you feel at home with a bunch of details that are so insignificant that you’ve barely noticed them.

But at least it helped soothe the guilt her heart carried, because these actions are proof that she was fulfilling the promises she had made to you a long time ago, in the secrecy of the night, under a starry sky, whispered words that has been immediately blown away by the wind —; “I’ll always be there for you,” she had said. “Promise?” you’ve asked, your eyes full of hope. “Promise,” she had replied before your lips touched, sealing the contract.

One she broke years ago, when she dragged you out of the tower without letting you a chance to explain yourself. The woman is perfectly aware that flowers and some meals won’t be enough to earn your forgiveness, but she still made it her mission to look after you from afar —; because if she doesn’t, who would? You don’t let anyone get close to you, and the others haven’t looked any further, giving up at the first sign of trouble. She doesn’t blame you for not trusting her, or the other members of the team, she just wishes that you would accept at least one of their helping hands. 

But you’ve rejected everyone. 

Even Wanda, with whom you seemed, at one time, to be getting on well which had given the redhead hope. Those hopes had been shattered the day you violently pushed the witch away without any clear explanation, and the woman blames herself for that, for not knowing what to do in order to help you —; because she should know, right? That’s her role, the promise she had made years ago.

If she can’t, if no one can, what will you become?

You may be able to fool everyone, including yourself, into thinking that you are fine, but you won’t get her to fall for your little tricks. She knows the truth. She can see it in your fake smiles, she can read it in your tired eyes. She knows you by heart, she hasn’t forgotten those years spent by your side, and she has become a master at spotting your bad habits and the sublet signs that accompany them. 

So, tonight, she couldn't have possibly missed how firm your grip has been on the bottles of alcohol, nor how quiet you've been the whole time. But it is only when she saw the door to your old bedroom ajar that she understood the extent of your pain. You were hitting rock bottom, you would have never set foot in this room full of memories otherwise. She knew this because she, too, avoided it like the plague, and hadn’t dared return in it since that day, not even to empty it. For five years, it had remained the same.

The woman is willing to give you the space you asked for as long as you are taking care of yourself, it is the silent promise she made, but it is obvious that you have failed to do so lately as she has seen you slowly falling back into your old habits. The ones she thought you had left behind, the ones she had helped you to overcome years ago. She is ready to accept that you could build a life without her, it is a cost worth paying if it’s the one to your happiness, but you haven’t built anything lately. Nor have you been happy, and she couldn’t bear anymore the sight of you destroying yourself, again.

The redhead is tired of the situation. She is annoyed that everyone is playing your games by pretending that everything is fine because it only encourages you down this dangerous path, one that may cost your life one day. She is angry with anyone who takes the easy way out, because it is obvious that it is easier to act as if all that history belonged to the past rather than acknowledge their mistakes.

At first, she had agreed to play along, but it was only because she thought that it was what you needed and that, when you were ready, you would talk to them. Except that it has been a bit more than two years, almost three, since they brought you back, and you still haven’t told a word about it. The woman didn’t know how long she would be able to put up with your silence on this story and your obvious discomfort.

But it seems that the sight of you asleep on the dusty carpet of the room you once shared was the last straw for the woman who decided to step in. You are probably going to hate her tomorrow, but she doesn’t care —; she is not even sure you could possibly hate her more than you already do. She would rather know that you are safe, even if it means losing you a little more so she decides to call your name multiple times.

It is the sound of her voice who wakes you up. It doesn’t matter how deeply asleep you were because you can’t ignore her when she practically screams out your name, and you are inevitably roused from your slumber. When you opened your eyes, a growl escaping your lips to signal your displeasure, all you could see was a blurred figure with red hair that could only belong to one person. One you could recognize anywhere.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, a mixture of annoyance and concern tinged her voice, but you weren’t aware enough of your surroundings to notice it. Maybe if your hand hadn’t been so heavy on the alcohol, then you would have noticed the tone of her voice.

‘I am sleeping, can’t you see?’ you grumbled, but as soon as the words escaped your mouth, the frustration was replaced by a laugh —; this question was stupid, you realize. Isn’t she supposed to be a trained spy, and one of the best, too? Then why couldn’t she see what was right in front of her? Something that obvious? 

Maybe she doesn’t know either because your question is followed by silence. Her only answer has been to sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose. It was going to be a long night, she already knew it, but wasn’t sure she had the energy to deal with that.

‘Come here,’ you said when the woman didn’t react. Your words were accompanied by the gesture of grabbing her arm in order to pull her toward you, the woman losing her balance because of the surprise. 

Since she had found you, you had never asked for her presence. On the contrary, you had rejected and hated her. At best, you would tolerate her presence, but only when your job didn’t give you a choice, and so this sudden change in your behavior disconcerted her, especially the laugh that escaped your lips when she fell on top of you —; it is a sound that she has never thought she would hear again. So pure, so sincere.

‘Get up,’ she coldly says, not amused at all by your little games. If circumstances had been different, she probably would have found your attitude endearing and stayed a little longer in your arms. Except there was nothing healthy about this sudden closeness after months of hatred, so the woman immediately got up, inviting — ordering — you to do the same —; the sooner she puts you to bed, the sooner she can get back to hers.

Tonight, she had no patience. The woman was exhausted, and frustrated —; you weren’t the only one to suffer from the situation. She knows that your clinging state is just an illusion, the result of the alcohol you’ve ingested, and that the very next day you’re going to hate her again. If she wanted nothing more than to believe everything would be okay now, and to find comfort in your arms, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not when she knew she would lose it all again at sunrise. This scene is only a chimera, a reminder of what she had lost several years earlier as the result of her own actions.

If anything happens tonight, you would both regret it. Nothing can come from the actions of two tipsy and exhausted people. Except that your mind wasn’t clear enough to realize it, and all you could think about in that moment was how you were craving for Natasha’s attention. You wanted her to wrap her arms around you and whisper that everything will be fine now, because she is here. You wanted her to promise to never let you down, again. Even if it is a lie. Even if, one day, she will abandon you again —; because that’s what they all do despite the promises, isn’t it? At that moment, you didn’t care about the lies, you just wanted something to hold onto, just an ounce of comfort.

‘I caaaaaan’t,’ you whined, but you didn’t even try to do so. When you stretch out your arms towards the redhead, she gets the hint that you’re expecting her to help you, which she does. The woman knows how stubborn you can be so she grabs your hands and pulls you on your feet, sighing.

Except that you seem to find the idea of testing the limits of her kindness particularly amusing because you make no effort to pull yourself upright, or to stand on your feet —; or maybe you were just that wasted. You’re barely standing when you fall forward, leaving no choice to the woman who has to catch you before you hit the ground.

‘Got you,’ you whispered, a grin on your face, when you felt her arms around your waist.

The thought of dropping you crossed her mind, but all she did was to playfully roll her eyes. The woman should be annoyed by the situation —; right? But how could she when you are so adorable? It has been a long time since she last saw such a peaceful expression on your face. Your eyes were half closed, you looked as if you were about to fall asleep in her arms, and there was a faint smile on your lips. You seemed so content, nestled in her arms with your cheek pressed against her chest, that she hardly dared to move, fearing to break this well-deserved moment of peace. For a moment, it was as if nothing had happened, and the sorrow on your face had dissipated, giving way to a childlike insouciance —; a sight that made her heart melt.

You are the one who broke the silence first.

‘I’ve missed you..,’ you whispered. A confession so unexpected that the woman is not sure if she had understood your words. When her eyes looked down, searching for yours, you hadn’t moved, your eyes still closed. It was almost as if you hadn’t spoken, and that the words had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. 

‘Me too,’ she softly replied and, maybe, if you had opened your eyes at that moment, you would have noticed the tears that clouded hers — but you couldn’t do that, because you don’t want her to see the tears that you are trying to hold back, right? The one that would just run down your cheeks the moment you open your eyes. 

‘Please, stay with me tonight,’ you asked —; no, you begged. You’ve lifted your head until your eyes finally meet hers, both were shining with the tears that threatened to fall —; you are the first one to give in.

The mere thought of Natasha leaving you was enough to shatter your last ramparts. You have just regained her embrace, you don’t want to be forced to leave her now, not after so many years of hoping to regain the comfort you thought you had lost forever. You have been too stubborn to admit that you needed help, and so you’ve spent years pushing everyone away, thinking that you didn’t deserve their affection. It has been so long that you can’t even remember the last time someone held you this way, with such delicacy and care.

It gave you hope. The one that, maybe, for at least one night, things could be the way they used to be —; just tonight, or even just a few hours. You just want that moment to last a little longer, you don’t want to spend another night alone in your bed, in your cold and austere bedroom with a depressing atmosphere. You want more than that, you want a reason to stay, a reason to try again, and to get up tomorrow —; you want Natasha back. You want your old life back.

Except that the woman won’t give in. It is not that she doesn’t want to, on the contrary, she shares the same wishes that you, but her mind is clear, and she knows that nothing good would come out of it —; you can’t get back to what you used to have. You can’t change the past, nor can you pretend it doesn’t exist.

‘I can’t..,’ she softly replied after a second of silence that marked her hesitation, ‘you know that baby, we both,’ she added, the nickname naturally escaping her lips when she noticed that more tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. 

She wants to say yes, you can read it in her eyes, hear it in her silences —; then why doesn’t she say it? Why does she keep pushing you away when you are eventually ready for her to be back? Isn’t what she has wanted when she spent all those months begging you to accept her help? It is, but she didn’t want it that way, she didn’t want to take advantage of a moment of weakness on your part. She wanted to earn your forgiveness, to show you that you could trust her again, and if she had to work every day until she dies to achieve that goal, then she would do it. 

‘Why not?’ you immediately asked back, ‘you are here, and so am I, and- and our bed is waiting for us,’ you started rambling. You couldn’t speak clearly, the words racing through your head as you tried to convince her, but you knew it was a losing battle. You were so desperate that your hands clung tightly to the fabric of her shirt, as if it could be enough to stop her from leaving. ‘Please,’ you begged once more when she didn’t react. At this point, your voice was nothing more than a broken whisper, ‘just for tonight, we could pre~’ 

‘Pretend that nothing has happened?’ she softly asked, finishing your sentence, and all you could do was nodding. ‘But you know we can’t do that baby,’ she said, hating the way you were looking at her with so much hope, as if you thought that one night in her arms could ease all your problems —; but it can’t. It won’t. 

As she talks, one of her hands tucks a lock of your hair behind your ears. The touch is so gentle that you can resist, and lean into her embrace. The feeling of her hand caressing your head leaves too soon for your liking. 

‘Sometimes, I wish that we could,’ you replied, ‘that I could either forget everything, or go back in time to make everything right,’ you confided in her, sharing your thoughts with someone for the first time.

The words have barely crossed the barrier of your lips that you crumble, because you realize that this wish will never come true. You can no longer hold back your tears, you can only hide your face in the hollow of her neck, hoping she won’t see those. Only, each of your sobs shakes your body so violently that anyone could understand your state in one glance. The woman doesn’t know what to do so she cautiously wraps her arms around you and cradles your body in an attempt to sooth your sobs —; it’s the least she can do.

‘You’ve done nothing wrong, love, nothing was your fault,’ she whispered, and you can hear that her voice is feverish —; she, too, is holding back tears. She can’t bear to see you like this. ‘I am sorry, so sorry,’ she added while she rocks you slowly. Those words weren’t for tonight, and how she had to refuse your proposal, but they were for everything that has happened since that day. Those excuses were for all the things she has done or said since but, most importantly, for all the things she didn’t have the courage to do and the ones she couldn’t. 

⊱ ★ ⊰

The following morning, you’re woken up by Jarvis, his voice echoing through the room, terribly loud and impossible to ignore. A grunt escapes your lips, you were hoping for a few more hours of sleep —; or best, for an eternal slumber. The night before, like the rest of the team, you went to bed late, and the quantities of alcohol ingested are definitely not helping with your condition because you were the victim of a terrible headache. Only, it is impossible for you to ignore Jarvis’ voice. He has been calling your name over and over again for several minutes now, trying to get the attention you are trying to not give him —; but even with your hands covering your ears, his voice would pierces your eardrums.

‘You are not answering me, miss y/n,’ he stated the obvious, ‘do you want me to warn the others that you are sick? My sensors indicate tha~’

‘Please, Jarvis, shut up,’ you mumble, still managing to be polite despite the rising frustration, and you really hope it will be enough for him to leave you alone —; but anyone who knows the AI knows that these hopes are in vain. 

Nonetheless, you have to admit that he is right about one thing: you are not feeling so good —; but who would after attending one of Stark’s parties? He always says that if your head is not sore and your throat is not burning the next day, then you haven’t enjoyed yourself enough. Surely you have enjoyed enough to last a lifetime, although you are not naive enough to swear to never touch a bottle again in your life. Yet, you’ve thought of it for an instant, the lingering nausea making you regret your actions because it gave you the unpleasant feeling that you might throw up at any time.

God, you were weak. So weak that everything was feeling too much right now, even the faint sunlight making its way into your room —; it makes you want to bury yourself alive to avoid all these sensations, and to die. Except you can’t because you have a mission that is scheduled for today and, if you don’t show up soon, they will come looking for you, which is the last thing you want. You have spent weeks preparing for that, you definitely can’t let them down now, especially not because you are just too stupid to know your limits.

You have abandoned them once, you won’t make the same mistake a second time. They won’t be so forgiving this time, no one forgives someone who does the same mistake twice —; no one gives a second chance to traitors. It has been several years since you came back, but you still feel like you are on probation and you need to prove to them that they can count on you. You can sense their hesitation to trust you, even though they insist that everything is fine —; pretending that everything is the way it used to be. It is their new favorite game, but you hate it. Y

et, you don’t have much choice but to play by their rules.

‘Are you sure? Becaus~’ 

‘I said, shut. the. fuck. UP!’ you yelled, not giving him to finish his sentence, already reaching the limits of your patience, ‘what’s so difficult to understand in those two words?’ you growled in frustration, and you can’t help but throw a pillow at the walls. The gesture is useless because it doesn’t even manage to ease the tension you feel, nor does it convince Jarvis that he needs to stop talking because he starts lecturing you about your actions. 

Actually, the only way you have found to shut him up was to get up and join the others for breakfast. Fortunately, only Tony and Steve were there. They are the ones you are going on mission with today, and that’s what they were talking about before you entered the room.  Even though you would rather stay alone, talking about missions is something you can do with little effort because it is easy. You need your brain, but you can turn off your emotions. You do not have to worry about saying the wrong thing or how to avoid an uncomfortable silence. It is familiar, and comforting. It has been a while since you've been sitting at this table talking about something else —; when you are not talking about work, you stay silent. It seems that you have forgotten how to interact with them during those years. 

As they go through the details of the mission one last time, you are playing with your breakfast, not interested in the oat flakes floating in your milk, nor in their voices that forms a dull hum in the background, their words not even reaching your ears —; because you are thinking, your eyebrows furrowed with worry. Except that your state isn’t caused by the reasons they think it is, neither the alcohol nor the mission are in your mind, only a certain spy with whom you shared a moment last night. One you would rather forget because the simple thought of the thing you have said, and done, is enough to fill you with rage and embarrassment.

‘Hi to the moon, here the earth,’ Tony said, snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention, ‘were you even listening to us?’ he sighed, but you don’t notice any annoyance in his voice. Only a sickening worry that you can read in his eyes, a feeling that he doesn’t share and doesn’t hide very well. You hate it, when they look at you that way, as if you could break at any moment, as if they needed to be careful —; but you can take it. You can take everything, and you definitely do not need their permanent protection. 

‘No, sorry, I was lost in my thoughts,’ you admitted, giving him a smile that I hoped to be convincing enough to reassure him.

‘Do not worry, everything is going to be fine, okay? We will be here to make sure of that,’ Steve intervened, trying to reassure you about what he thought was the cause of your worries, but his tone didn’t feel comforting to you. If anything, it made you grit your teeth and clench your hand harder around your spoon, increasing your irritation. You don’t really know why, but Steve has been the hardest to get along with since you have come back, maybe it is because of his seemingly false sympathy. 

‘Thank you,’ you managed to mumble, even though you don’t really mean it —; it was still better than the snide comment that made its way in your mind. You even made the effort to smile, one that anyone could see as fake, but not Steve, because he never really pays attention to the others.

The words burn on the tip of your tongue, and you have to bite it to not shout out to him what you are really thinking. You want nothing more than to tell him that you are as capable as anyone around this table. You have proven yourself over the last few months, succeeding in every mission they have given you, what more do you need to do for them to have faith in your abilities again? Reach for the moon? Because you are ready to do it if that’s the price to pay. You are desperate enough to do anything they would ask. 

In reality, you are not worried at all about the upcoming mission because that is not a possibility. You don’t fail, ever, and if you need to give pieces of yourself and mind in order to complete a mission, then you are ready to do it without flinching. 

No, your thoughts were occupied by something else —; or someone else. Something that was more difficult to manage because there is no guide to follow. This person is Natasha, and the cause of your worries is the moment you shared last night because you have no explanation for what happened —; you thought she hated you, and that you hated her. Aren’t you both supposed to despise each other for the pain you’ve caused? Then why do some of you still yearn for her presence? Why didn’t she reject you and, instead, decided to take care of your mess? This even wasn’t meant to be. The redhead is the last person that should have witnessed you in such a vulnerable state, and yet she is the one you have sought attention from, the only one you needed last night —; and you hate that. You hate how your feelings are still the same even after so many years.

That is exactly why, the second the woman that is haunting your thoughts stepped in the room, you left it, pretending that you needed to get ready for the mission. There is no way that the way you walked out of the room, leaving your untouched breakfast behind you, didn’t bring questions to their minds but you were long gone before any of them could say something.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAG LIST — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @escapereality4music, @fxckmiup, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

[jacy-gir1]

Heyyy, NSFW alphabet featuring shinsou. Obviously 18+

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is the kind of guy to be instantly tired, he wants to hold you, lazily kiss you, cuddle you as you fall asleep after sex. He doesn’t mind if there’s a little mess and your both naked he just wants you in his arms.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Thighs absolutely no questions asked. He wants to kiss them, touch them, squeeze them, put his head in between them, you name it. There’s no better way to relax after a long day of work then to lay down in your pillowy thighs.

C = Cum (Where does he want to cum?)

Back to the last one, thighs definitely. If they aren’t available then stomach, back, or tits. There’s just something about seeing himself sprayed on your body it’s like an animal marking there territory.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Actually really into dominantrics (idk how to spell that just go with it) but would never tell you because he’s super embarrassed. He secretly would enjoy being bossed around, told how to please you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s watched a fair share of porno but was a virgin before he met you, surprisingly he was a natural in bed, a quick learner you’d call him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, some may say it’s boring but it gets all the right spots, he can kiss you while rearranging your guts, easy access to your clit and curves, and best of all your neck is so so easy to grab.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious, so serious it’s goofy

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carpet matches the drapes, purple stubble

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Less romantic then you’d expect, he’s a fan of hard kinky sex, not the type of stuff you’d call “making love” but it’s romantic in his own way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

A lot, If he’s horny and your not available his hand is on his cock. He jacks off to pictures of you in a swimsuit. He has jerked off next to you in bed while you were sleeping multiple times, he dreads you waking up but also gets off on it

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

About the level of kinky as you’d expect, he’s into shibari, putting you in collars (a little pet play), and using his quirk on you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed, it’s the most comfortable for both of you and you don’t have to worry about it not working for his favorite positions.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Mostly you teasing him but sometimes he just gets random boners. If you really want to get him going then strip tease when he’s not expecting it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Role play, he hates thinking about fucking anyone but you. Other then that he’s super open to whatever you want to try; my man does not kink shame

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Not very good at giving but lovvvvves receiving, it’s his favorite way to cum, with your mouth wrapped around him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very rough and fast paced, this man rails the shit of you it is not gentle. However if you feel like it’s to much he becomes more gentle with you, your pleasure comes before him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan of quickies, he prefers longs nights where you can do multiple rounds and fall asleep after

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Loves to push yours and his own boundaries, he’s not Risky in the sense of doing it in public though

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

About 4, you’ll know when he’s tired out

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

It’s hit or miss with toys but he loves putting you in collars and using controlled toys to tease and edge you with

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

His version of foreplay is teasing the shit out of you, but after that he just wants to get lost in you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a grunter and whimperer definitely, loud in a quiet way if that makes any sense.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Reads cringy smut fanfiction and imagines you as main characters

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Like 6inches, not enough to be painful for you but big enough to make you feel like he’s in your stomach

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Depends, it’s like seasonal with this man, super horny during winter, super chill during summer.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Two fucking seconds after he cums he’s snoring while holding you tight, more cuddles the better

[zweiginator]

college!patrick corrupting innocent!reader feat. art caught my attention QUICK

om nom patrick wanting to fuck her but he knows he’ll have no restraint even though he should go easy on you so he invites artie again🤗🤗

OH YEAH BABY WOOOO

PATRICK TELLING ART TO FUCK YOU BECAUSE HE CANT BE GENTLE....

and patrick and you have tried to have sex one time before but the second he pushed inside you were clawing at his back because it hurt and fuck you were so tight. patrick cursed and pulled out. said he wants your first time to be good and slow--which isn't something he can do.

"your little pussy's so tight. don't think i can control myself with you hugging me so good."

and he's kissing your forehead but you're upset because you really like patrick. he has a reputation around campus but you trust him and he knows your body and you dont want to go searching around for someone to sleep with, with a big 'im a virgin' sign stamped to your forehead.

patrick says it won't be necessary. says he has a friend who's perfect for it. for you. and you're nervous because you've never been so attracted to anyone like you are to patrick. you don't think anyone can compare.

but then art is knocking on your door and patrick lets him in. you can't see him yet; patrick is obstructing your view with his broad shoulders and you're sat on your bed. patrick moves. and there's the friend. art, patrick said his name is. he has a backwards hat on and blond curls poking out from the brim. pretty eyes and a shy, lopsided smile. his voice carries a little more trepidation when he introduces himself to you, but he still has confidence. you get a lot of it when you're near patrick.

and art is more sexually experienced than he lets on to patrick, even though they're best friends. he doesn't like to kiss and tell. he doesn't love the concept of one-night stands--even though he's had a few.

art sits next to you on your bed. his mouth is dry and he's at a loss for words. patrick told him you were pretty. even showed him a picture of you. but god, you're even better in person. just sitting with your palms on the tops of your thighs, a blush upon your cheeks. staring at him, expectantly. patrick sits across the room, his legs spread proudly. he lights a cigarette, even though you tell him not to; the RA will smell it.

he does it anyway.

patrick tells art to go slowly. he wants his girl to feel good. you feel tingles in your tummy, a coil of pleasure building at him calling you that. art likes to share. he strokes your hair. it's gentle and sweet and you hum tilting your head closer to his. you close your eyes for just a second and when they reopen, art's lips are hovering by your own until he kisses you and snakes his hand down your back to hold you to him. it feels more slow with art, but in a good way. like he likes the tension, likes to wait; it makes it better in the end. to snap that rubber band. he opens his mouth to push his tongue into yours. it's wet and almost lazy, but art's hands push into your pajama shorts, kneading the fat of your ass in his hands. you moan, pulling his hat off so you can feel his hair in your hands, grasp on it, pull him into you.

it's then that art gets hungrier, and patrick moves nearer.

"easy now." patrick says. you feel art smile against your lips.

"right." art replies. "sorry, coach."

art lays you down, nice and slow. pulls your panties down with his teeth and patrick inhales quickly, intrigued.

your instinct is to keep your legs close together, but art pulls them apart. asks to see you.

"she's pretty isn't she." patrick doesn't phrase it like a question.

and art says a busy, mmhmm, because his lips are on your thighs and his fingers are rolling your clit. he moves to pull himself out of his shorts. you and patrick both watch intently. how his abs contract, how his shorts pool at his ankles and his cock is erect against his stomach.

you're soaked and you want to make them both proud, but mostly patrick. you want to prove that you can take it, that you're ready for him. you also want to make him jealous.

art pushes into you slowly. all three of you hold your breath until his pelvis is flush against you. you rake your fingernails down art's chest, over his pert nipples, down to where he is connected to you. he's idle and you can see his heart beating, the blood pumping through the visible veins in his arms.

patrick waits for a next move, and you pull art in by the hair at the nape of his neck. you whisper to him; it's tinged with a moan.

"i want you," you gasp. "to fuck me hard."

art whines against your neck. he peers at you, and then at patrick, who is fine with sharing--but only if he holds the reigns.

so art pulls your legs up over his shoulders, tilting your pelvis up a tad. he starts at a respectable pace; you're already finding it hard to be quiet. just gasping for air because you've never been fucked and you've never been so full or desired. and art speeds up his thrusts. it feels like he's punctuating each one when he's all the way in. pushing that extra bit to make your body jolt. to hit that spot inside you that makes you whine his name. patrick's jaw ticks because he thought he was fine with sharing. and he thought he told art to fuck you slowly--but here he is pounding into you with your jaw squished in his hand as you beg and plead and that should be him. this wasn't the deal. patrick pulls himself out of his jeans.

[amuyyi]

How Sweet .

synopsis: you somehow find yourself in Vietnam with your best friend Hanni, and the heavy southeast asian heat leaves hanni to her own devices... trope: non-idol!hanni x non-idol!f!reader, best friends to lovers, summer vacation, high school seniors, fluff

wc: 3.9k

cw: none

a/n: hello hello! this is my first fanfic in a long long time, and ive never shared on tumblr before.. but i love hanni's fuckass bob ! please let me know what you guys think, im bit rusty in terms of writing ^^'

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

“So… What do you think?”

You stare at your best friend, mouth agape in complete and utter shock as Hanni stood in front of you. With a sheepish expression on her face, your eyes glaze over the silver blades within Hanni’s left hand as she holds a long lock of her naturally jet black air within her right. As your eyes travel upwards, you’re met with a rather uneven, extremely choppy bob planted on the top of your friend’s head alongside some hastily cut bangs. You would’ve thought it was a poorly done wig if she wasn't already holding evidence of her own wrongdoing within her hands. There's an uncomfortable silence that passes between the two of you as you simply stare, your jaw practically threatening to fall off of the base of your skull as you could see the other girl’s eye twitching ever so slightly in response to your silence. 

“Can you please say something?! It's not that bad I swear!” The vietnamese girl whines out, spinning on her heel and making her way back towards the bathroom where she had initially emerged. With Hanni no longer in your line of sight, you snap out of your daze, shaking your head as your brows knit together in confusion, just now beginning to fully process what you had just seen. You practically fall out of your seat on the couch as you scramble to your feet, following after the other girl as you call out, “wait, wait, what?! When did you do that???”

Hanni had made plans for the summer to visit her family back in Vietnam, and had graciously extended an offer for you to join. Excited and albeit a bit nervous, you instantly agreed, having been meaning to make some fun summer plans between the two of you for a while now. Your best friend’s family was sweet, having met her grandmother alongside a few aunts, uncles, and multiple younger cousins who were all pleased to meet your acquaintance. 

Despite the lovely first day of introductions and adjusting to the horrible jet lag you two experienced once landing, you soon learned that summers in Vietnam were, for lack of a better word, brutal. For the entirety of Southeast Asia, the heat during these months were ruthless, practically leaving everyone in sight panting, sweating, and doing anything possible in order to relieve themselves from the scorching sun– and the humidity. Oh, the humidity. The air felt thick and heavy in a way you’ve never experienced before. It almost felt hard to breathe sometimes because everything around you just felt so… sticky. How did Vietnam manage to make even a supposed nice summer breeze feel hot? Hanni had conveniently managed to not mention the intensity of the weather at the time, and as a result, left you two practically melting into the couch, marinating within your own sweat as Hanni’s grandmother left the two of you home alone for the day.

You practically break down the door to the bathroom to find a distressed Hanni increasingly becoming more panicked the longer she looks at her reflection.  “My Ba used to always cut my hair like this whenever I visited over the summer, I thought it’d be easy to replicate!” Hanni exclaims, staring herself down within the mirror as she tries to assess the damage that has been done at every angle possible. Honestly, the whole situation was almost too good. Almost like a scene from a sitcom or something.

Fighting back a snort, you smirk teasingly, “has she always made it so uneven?” Your unsolicited comment left Hanni clicking her tongue in offense, raising her hand holding the scissors threatening to hit you before shifting her gaze back towards the mirror, letting out a distressed groan in defeat. “I don’t even know what came over me, y/n. I think this unbearable heat actually fried my brain,” she runs her free hand through her hair, some poorly cut strands falling out as she winces, “I don’t know! I don’t know! My Ba made it look so easy!” You watch as her eyes dart around, not talking to anyone in particular as the panic seemingly begins to take over, “I can fix it though! If i just cut–”

“Nope.” You firmly grab Hanni’s wrist as she begins to lift the scissors back up towards her hair, cutting her words short as you wrestle the blades out of her grip. “Y/n–” she starts, “Hanni.” You begin, your voice a tone that is similar to that of an owner telling a dog to sit, eyebrows raised and head cocked to the side as you lock eyes with your friend. She silently stares back, mouth open as if to retort, but it soon closes as she sighs, sitting down on a nearby stool in defeat as you also let out a breath you didnt you know you were holding. At least she didn't have free reign over the scissors. 

“Now let me see what I can do about… this,” You hum, dragging the stool closer to where you stood as you get a better look at Hanni’s hair. The scissors she used were very obviously not haircutting scissors, but you doubted she had anything better on hand. Alongside that, she somehow managed to cut drastically uneven halves of her hair, and it was obvious the cuts on both the left and right side were not a clean process, leaving multiple bluntly chopped bits all within her hair. As for the bangs, thankfully she didn’t cut them too short, actually leaving a lot of hair left to work with. Knowing Hanni, she was probably too scared to commit to the act after seeing what she did to the rest of her hair. Now, you were no hair cutting expert, but anyone with eyes could see what needed to be done in order to fix this mess. Hanni awkwardly avoids eye contact seemingly out of embarrassment as you examine her, eyes looking practically anywhere but within yours as you contemplate your next steps, her cheeks faintly dusted a light shade of pink. You raise the scissors and start off by trying to even out both sides of her hair, the quiet snipping sounds filling the bathroom as Hanni sits up as straight as she can, hands placed a bit too formally on her lap. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” 

“Apparently more than you.”

“That's not very comforting.”

“I can always leave your hair like this.”

“Don’t you dare, y/n.” 

Soft, lighthearted giggles erupt from the bathroom as the banter between you two continues. Even in a situation like this, you and Hanni always managed to make each other smile– It's what drew you two to each other. You recall the day you two first met. Through some common friends or the other, somehow you ended up at a picnic within the local park, Hanni being one of the first to arrive. She had brought a container full of fruit to share, and practically dominated the conversation with her cheery attitude– but not in a suffocating kind of way. She somehow managed to know everyone who arrived and they all seemed to naturally flock towards the girl. You were no different than the people she attracted, but you were lucky enough to have her full attention the whole day, her large round eyes attentive and focused on you as you told stories and cracked with everyone. Ever since then, the two of you have been practically inseparable. Always waiting for each other after classes and somehow ending up in comical situations such as this.

After a few more snips of the scissors, you take a step back, taking in your work as Hanni’s eyes flutter open, blinking a bit as she stands up. She approaches the mirror, eyes lighting up as she sees the result. Thanks to your handiwork, her hair had ended up in a lovely dark layered bob with straight across bangs that actually looked intentional. It was a bit shorter than your liking, having the ends land just above her chin, but the other girl didn’t give you much to work with.

“Wow, this actually looks… really good.” Hanni spoke, her voice laced with awe as she continued to admire her reflection, “I kind of look like Mathilda! Y'know, from that kid assassin movie or whatever?” She comments, looking back at you expectantly as you pretend to think for a moment.

“Ah.. That's unfortunate, I was really trying to go for an Edna Mode kind of look… Maybe a bowl cut…” You trail off, feigning regret as you twirl the scissors in your hand, eliciting a snort from Hanni, punching you in the shoulder as you let out a laugh. 

The other girl doesn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug though, even through all of the laughter, and you tense up for only a moment before melting into her touch, your arms wrapping around her waist as her arms snake comfortably around your neck. The light smell of flowers emerges from the embrace, unintentionally causing you to sigh with pleasure as you can feel the vibrations of Hanni giggling into your neck in response. The feeling left your stomach fluttering with butterflies for some reason. Hanni had always smelt really nice, but this time it was a little different– a little more fresh? Maybe the tropical air was doing something to her. 

“Thank you,” you hear her whisper into your ear gently, and you could feel your cheeks warm at the praise as you pull back shyly tucking a strand of your own hair behind your ear as you shrug, “It really was no big deal,” You trail off as Hanni’s gaze shifts back onto her reflection. “Still, I wasn't expecting it to be so… Short.”

You arch a brow at her as you bluntly state, “Well you didn't give me a whole lot of leeway with your little scissor-happy act over there,” which rewarded you with another punch on the shoulder and a tongue stuck out in a childish manner from the short haired girl.

As the two of you exit the bathroom, Hanni lets out a relieved sigh, “aaah, that feels SO much better!” She cooes, stretching her arms and shaking her head, letting her short hair fly as she grins. You also smile at the sight of your friend so happy, but let out a tired breath shortly after. “Well I’m glad you like it, but it's still hot as hell in here.”

An imaginary lightbulb goes off within Hanni’s head as a grin forms on her lips. “I know a place, c’mon,” Hanni grabs your arm, guiding you outside as you immediately get hit with a wave of heat and a flash of light. Squinting, you use your free arm to try and shield your eyes from the sun above, “Do we HAVE to be outside?” You whine, feeling beads of sweat forming on your forehead almost instantaneously as you’re guided to a rather charming looking vespa parked nearby. It was pastel yellow in color, and had some stickers plastered on the side. You watch in awe as the other girl hops on it with confidence, taking a pair of keys out of her pocket as she pats the free seat behind her, “do you HAVE to keep complaining and not trust me?” 

You are once again brought back to a dumbfounded state as you slowly approach the vespa, admiring its quality and state before your eyes go back to Hanni, “Can you actually drive this thing? You never told me!” An almost cartoonish glimmer shines within her eyes as she winks, pressing a finger to her lips as she playfully grins, “There's a lot you don’t know about me, y/n.”

Very hesitantly, you slowly make your way onto the back seat of the vespa, awkwardly sitting as a brief second of silence passes. Hanni rolls her eyes, chuckling lightheartedly at your uncertainty as she grabs your arms and places them around her waist, “You can trust me with this y/n, I promise.” Her voice was soft and reassuring, and she looked at you with her all too familiar warm eyes that made it nearly impossible to not trust her at that very moment. Besides, Hanni wouldn’t actually let you get hurt, you knew that much. Reluctantly, you let out a sigh and tighten your grip on Hanni’s waist, saying a soft “okay…” which resulted in an unseen smile from the other girl and the sound of the engine to rev confidently.

-

If there was one thing Ho Chi Minh City locals perfected, it was the art of organized chaotic traffic. You fearfully bite back a scream as you watch as oncoming traffic simply did not stop for anyone anywhere ever. People did not look before crossing the street and every vespa, motorbike, car, or other miscellaneous vehicle simply maneuvered around one other to get around. You swear your grip on Hanni at this point would cut off all circulation in her body as she lets out a loud and hearty laugh amongst the chaos, speeding up as she weaves in between pedestrians with ease, as if she's been doing this her entire life. “Hanni what the HELL–”

Soon enough the two of you made it out of the city, and Hanni guides you through the dusty terrain of the more rural areas of Vietnam. You were a bit nervous at first, unsure if you were a fan of the bumpy nature of the rocky road that was debatably either safer or more dangerous than those in the city. Once you realize Hanni was no longer entertaining your fears though, you take a moment to finally get out of your own head and live in the moment. Inhale. Exhale. Your eyes glisten as you take in the sights around you. It was so… Green. The lush flora coats the environment with a serene green glow, and the feeling of the wind flying through your hair was such a freeing feeling. Your grasp on Hanni loosens as you let out a loud cheer, laughing as you let everything go. The dappled spots of light from the overhead trees rush past your vision below as you look forward, spotting multiple ox and farmers ahead within the flooded fields. The clouds ahead looked so incredibly soft, and the sky looked bigger than ever– even bigger than how it looked on the plane ride here. You can't help but wonder if it were nighttime, would you be able to see the stars here? You press your cheek against Hanni’s back as you relish in the feeling for a bit, closing your eyes in bliss as the sounds of the nature around you fade.

Before you knew it, the green forestry surrounding you was slowly diminishing, eventually being replaced with a more beige sandy soil. A small gasp leaves your lips as you look out, spotting a small beach with an even larger body of water. The waves glistened beneath the summer sun and you were surprised such a place had absolutely no human traffic. “I found this place when I first got Sunny here,” Hanni practically reads your mind, also glancing over at the ocean before finding a place to park her vespa and hop off, “It's a place the locals keep a secret, and now you also know of it as well.”

You tilt your head a bit in confusion at her comment, hopping off of the vehicle, “Sunny?” Hanni raises her eyebrow as she points to the back end of the Vespa, a large sticker labeled ‘Sunny’ in large white letters is proudly showcased on Hanni’s vespa, and you mentally facepalm as the other girl giggles. Still, it left a warm feeling within your chest knowing Hanni was sharing a hidden area like this with you.

“Come on, let's go in the water! It's hot out here!!” Hanni exclaims loudly, immediately booking it towards the ocean ahead, kicking her shoes off and into the sand in the process. Your eyes widen as you chase after her, hastily taking your shoes off as well as you call out, “Hanni, wait! We didn’t bring our swim suits!” You hissed a little as the sand was unrealistically hot from the sun practically cooking it throughout the day, muttering out little “ow, ow, ow’s” as you hopscotch your way into the water. You couldn't help but notice Hanni was unbothered by the temperature, her new hair allowing a newfound freshness within her step. It truly seemed like she was made for the beach.

“So…?” Hanni extends the word playfully with a grin, already calf deep into water by the time you awkwardly trudge through the ocean towards her, kicking up liquid in the process and splashing Hanni’s shorts. She gasps in shock at the cold sensation and you open your mouth to apologize before getting cut off by water getting shot directly into your face. Salty water entered your mouth and nearly up your nose and you spat it out, wiping your face with your hands as your eyes focused and landed on the culprit, who stared at you with a mischievous grin, bent down within the water to prepare for her next attack. 

“Oh no you dont–” You immediately side step and just narrowly miss an icy cold splash of water before you, bending over to counterattack with twice as much. A high pitched scream followed by genuine laughter followed suit, and the two of you go at it for a little bit, splashing water back and forth in between fits of laughter, completely drenching your clothes. You were happy. Being here, being with her. You took a moment to truly take in the sight of the girl before you. Eyes crescent shaped as she laughs from her heart, a toothy open mouth grin that you knew was genuine and grew to love over the years, and the way her newly cut hair was soaked and stuck to her cheeks and forehead charmingly. You loved the energy Hanni always brought to the table, her constant smile and the endless surprises she had up her sleeve. You were glad she chose you of all people to be her best… friend.

…Oh.

Hanni however, is not aware of your current sentimental and affectionate internal thoughts towards her, and decides to up her game with a new strategy, smirking to herself as she backs up, building up energy while you were catching your breath. You were so worn out and lost within your own thoughts you only noticed the charging bob-haired girl all too late, “Hanni WAI–” 

Practically all of the air got knocked out of you as Hanni strikes you down with a full body bear hug, sending the both of you into the water with a loud splash. Satisfied with her work (and quite worn out by now) Hanni doesn’t even make an attempt to hold you down, going full dead fish on your chest with an innocent grin and multiple giggles as you prop yourself up within the water with your arms. Coughing pathetically, you use one of your hands to wipe your face and slick back your hair as you look at Hanni, who rests very comfortably between your legs and on your chest, her arms wrapped around your waist as she looks up at you with those big dark brown eyes. Your breath hitches as you realize how close your faces are to one another. It wasn’t like you two haven't been this physically close before, but that never stopped you from being flustered. Something about the way she looks at you sometimes always caught you off guard, and you never knew how to handle it. The last time this happened was at your last sleepover together, having talked about past crushes, relationships, and how dating would work after high school graduation. Something about the way she looked at you underneath the sheets after asking about your crushes made your mind go blank. She had that look in her eyes again, and it drove you crazy how you couldn't read it. Cheeks reddening, you instinctively whip your head away, needing to look at something other than Hanni to keep yourself propped up within the water.

Frowning at this reaction, Hanni reaches a hand up and cusps your cheek, guiding your head to face her once again, forcing you to make eye contact with her. “y/n…” Her tone was soft and airy, if anything it was a bit needy. The blush on your cheeks was apparent at this point, and you still had no idea why you were even blushing in the first place, but the way her eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second intensified the color tenfold. You watch as her eyebrows knit together and how she subconsciously bites her lip, a habit she had whenever she was lost in thought– a sight you were familiar with. Even so, it felt different this time. 

You watch as Hanni closes her eyes and leans in, softly pressing her lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss, a very hesitant one at that. Just a small peck. You could tell it was Hanni’s way of “testing the waters” (ba dum tss) but to you? It was everything. You quite literally felt fireworks within your stomach as she kissed you, and the shock left you simply frozen in place, eyes comically wide open for the very brief moment. All too soon, she pulls away. She looks up at you again, a glint of fear and uncertainty in her eyes as she waits for your reaction.

You take a moment to simply sit there dazed, mouth agape in the water once again as panic settles within Hanni at the silence. “Oh my god. I'm so sorry y/n. I-I thought—“ She had begun to hurriedly make her way off of your chest when you quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into you as you brought your lips together. Now it was Hanni’s turn to freeze up, but it was only for a moment. Almost immediately after, you could hear her blissfully sighing into the kiss as her arms snake their way around your neck, your free hand moving down her back and landing comfortably on the small of it.

Her lips were soft, and tasted ever so lightly like berries despite having been splashed with saltwater multiple times. You’d never think you’d find yourself within the beaches of Vietnam, kissing your best friend, yet here you were. The sound of waves surrounds the two of you as you find yourself lost within the movements of her lips. You felt her pull away for air and you almost let out a whine at the sudden lack of contact before she starts peppering kisses all over your face. Your cheeks, nose, chin, forehead, everywhere. “You look so pretty right now y/n-nie~” Hanni cooes as you roll your eyes, pulling her in closer as she focuses her kisses onto your cheek. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” you tease, getting a hum in response as Hanni brings you back in for another kiss, whispering “you have no idea..”

“So… Do you have a crush on me or something?”

“Do you not like me back, y/n?”

“Well… I don't know about that...”

“I'm going to leave you here.”

“Noooo~”

Several splashes and giggles erupted from the both of you, and suddenly summer just became a little sweeter.

[sunraies]

hey, absolutely love your work. it’s so mf good🫶

can I request a fic where rafe is absolutely obsessed with kook reader. Like he wants to go everywhere with them and is protective of them. To the point if one of his friends even mentions her he gets mad.

Thank you x

Thank you so much, honey! I hope this is ok. I kind of followed it on from Tear-stained Cheeks. I was thinking of doing more with Bug x

Bug

Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Warnings- reader nicknamed Bug, heated kiss (not really smut but a make out moment), fluff

How the nickname Bug came to be and how Rafe wants you to be his. Little does he know you feel the same.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

It was hard for him to get you out of his head. His younger sister's annoying best friend. Expect you weren't annoying in the bratty kind of way. No, you were unbelievably kind, and that annoyed him.

At first it was because of your kindness but then over time it became annoyance at how people teached you because of it.

Rafe first experienced your kindness when you had been playing with Sarah in the garden. You spent most of your days at Tannyhill.

While you and Sarah were happily playing on the grass, looking at bugs and giggling. Rafe was sitting in a tree, having climbed it out of boredom. Topper and Kelce were both busy, leaving him to spend the summer day alone.

"Buzz off," He yelled at a bee that kept buzzing around him before swotting at it and grunting in frustration.

"Rafe," you called up to him after running over to find out what he was yelling at. "If you leave it alone, it won't hurt you!"

"It won't leave me alone!" He yelled and continued hitting at it. "I'm gonna squish it! Die!"

"No!" You yelled up to him, but it was too late.

He squished the little bee against the tree branch, but in return, it strung his hand. Crying out in pain, he lost his balance in the tree and came tumbling to the ground. You were immediately at his side, telling him not to move before running inside, calling for Mr Cameron or Rose.

Later that evening, Rafe returned from the hospital with Rose. His left arm was in a cast and a sad look on his face. You found out from Sarah that Ward had scolded him for being in the tree.

"Here," you said softly, holding out a glass of lemonade to him as he sat on the patio.

"Go away, Bug." He scowled at you, but you sat beside him with your own glass.

"You can call me that." You hummed, "If it makes you feel better."

"Bug, Bug, Bug!" He snapped at you.

When you didn't respond or get upset like he wanted you to. He actually smiled. It was small, but he smiled. "Thanks, Bug."

The nickname Bug just stuck after that. So much so that even people in your friend circles were calling you it. Over the years, no one really knew where in came, and you didn't mind.

After catching you crying over, a fight with Sarah. Rafe vowed to himself to make sure you were happy. His sunshine girl was not allowed to be sad. Not on his watch. So that day after ice cream, he became a little obsessed over he odd fuzzing feeling in his heart you gave him. He didn't want to lose that.

He took you to the beach, the main land, for lunches and dinners. To the arcade or the movies. Anywhere you wished to go, he followed.

Kelce let out a low whistle as he looked over at the doorway. They were sat on the patio of Topper's back garden. With his parents away, it was the Kook party scence for the night.

"Damn, Bug looks fine tonight." His eyes watched as you entered the garden, and Rafe's did the same.

"Shut up," He grumbled at Kelce. He was right, but Rafe hated him talking about you in that way.

"What, man? She's single again." Kelce shrugged, "I can admire beauty."

"I said, shut the fuck up" Rafe warned, leaning forward in his seat, ready to lunge at Kelce if he said another word about you.

That's another problem he'd been having lately, ever since you had broken up with your ex. He felt like he was fighting off vultures left and right. Anytime someone mentioned you, even his closet friends, his anger wanted to bury them six feet under so they couldn't be anywhere near you.

"Yo, Bug!" Topper called out, earning a glare from Rafe. "Come join us"

You flashed him a grateful smile as although you knew pretty much everyone there. You felt a little alone. You normally had your boyfriend, now your ex or Sarah, but after your fight a few weeks ago. She had been spending more and more time with the Pogues. Leaving you to navigate Kook party life by yourself.

"Hi" You stood beside Rafe's chair, holding a solo cup, Top handed you as you joined them.

"Hi." Rafe smiled up at you.

"We were just talking about crushes, Bug." Topper smirked

"Oh, really? Let me go grab another chair." You handed Rafe, your cup, before looking around the garden for one.

Just as you were about to walk away, you felt a gentle tug on your wrist before stumbling into Rafe's lap.

"You can sit here." He smiled at you. "I got you, Bug."

You raised an eyebrow at him before nodding and getting comfortable as Rafe wrapped his arms around you.

"So who's is who's, then?" You asked, sipping your drink.

Topper said a girl named Elena, but you all know he was still in love with Sarah. Kelce said Rosemary, not daring to say you as you were sitting in Rafe's lap. Making it perfectly clear, he wanted you to his friends.

"Well, um," you looked down into your drink. "He's tall, handsome as hell." You described yours making them frown.

"We gave you names!" Kelce protested "that could be a number of people. I'm tall!"

You laughed but felt Rafe tense underneath you. You glanced over your shoulder at him. "What about you? You've been awful quite"

You didn't want to know the answer, but you did at the same time. The time you had been spending together recently had been wonderful, and you just wanted him to be yours but didn't want to ruin whatever friendship you had going.

"No one in particular," Rafe shrugged "Anyway we sound like a bunch of pussys. Enough with the girl talk"

A few laughs, drinks, and smokes later, you were leaning back into Rafe more. Wiggling a little as you laughed at something Topper said.

"Stop." He groaned, stilling your hips

"Wh. What?" You glanced back at him before you felt it. The bulge in his shorts. You gave him a wicked smirk. "Oh, this?" You moved more, gaining another groan before he pulled you closer. Pining you to his chest.

"Stop that," He whispered. "god, baby, you feel what you do to me"

Your cheeks burned a little, but you nodded. "You know, you know it's you. Right?"

"What's me?" He frowned

"Tall and handsome as hell," you whispered before gasping as he kissed your shoulder

"It's you too, Bug," He whispered against your skin. "It's always been you, baby"

His nose brushed against your as you turned your head to face him. His ring finger cupping you jaw. His lips brushed yours gently before you crushed yours against his. You only broke the kiss for a second to move. You straddled his lap as his hands cupped your thighs.

It was a hot, messy kiss, and you tried not to moan as you felt him grow beneath you. Your hands tangled in his hair. No caring who was watching. They would soon learn, you were Rafe Cameron's, and he was yours.

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞safe place

✰ pairings: ot8 x fem!reader

✰ genre: romance, comfort, angst with fluffy ending

✰ warnings: reader has long hair, mentions of cursing and just reader having a hard time at the start, mentions of food

✰ word count: 3.6k + words

✿ . . plot

growing up, your parents taught you various things about whom to trust, how to save money and how to cook, all things like that. but there is one thing that still makes you hesitant… don’t worry. they said, don’t worry just take a deep breath and relax yourself, everything will eventually work out and being the obedient child you were, you always listened to them because things do work out.

but then why were you feeling as if you weren’t real? as if everything, every person, every feeling that you ever experienced felt like a scene from some novel? what is this feeling? you couldn’t name it; but you hated every bit of it. you hated how your chest hurts and even after rubbing it several times, there’s still a feeling as if there is a rope that is tied around your neck. a rope that’s strangling you and making you feel more and more anxious. you glance at your phone with a blank face, while your mind was facing a war, there’s still a text from him asking about what you were doing. you haven’t replied to him yet.

with a glance at the clock, you wrap your arms around your plushie tighter and close your eyes, trying to settle down this unknown emotion of restlessness. you try to think of him, think of good memories that you created along with him, you try to think of his smiling face and of his words that never fail to make your heart flutter. you needed to hold back until he comes back home and you return back in his arms.

౨₊ৎ chan

when you and chan first started dating, chan was everything you could ask for. he knew what you needed without you saying it, he knew what you liked, he remembered it and had it written down in his journal. it made you feel loved and secure, the two things that you always longed for in a relationship.

chan never failed to make you feel better, he talked to you and listened to your problems intently, as if trying to read between the lines and trying to figure out what went wrong. but with him away on a tour, it was hard. it was even harder to tell him anything mainly because you didn’t want him to worry when he already had so much on his plate. you never want to burden him with your worries. neither do you like to pitied, so will try you keep your emotions to yourself until he comes back.

but looks like that plan is unsuccessful the moment your phone rings and you see his video call. with a soft grunt, you sit up and set your hair before accepting the call.

there he is, sitting on his chair while wearing his signature black hoodie and a wide smile on his face.

“hey sunshine, how are you doing today?” a sentence from him is all it takes for you to break down and hide your face with your one hand and try to get out of the camera’s frame.

“what’s wrong?” his voice is calm, but you know he’s trying not to show his worry to scare you.

you chuckle, trying to brush it off by saying, “it’s nothing just missed you.” but he knows you very well. he knows you well to figure out something is seriously wrong, because until now you would’ve usually spammed him with texts or photos of what you did.

there’s a silence as he just stares at you through the screen before sighing out loud, “i know i’m pretty far from you right now, but you can tell me what’s bothering you anytime. anytime you want, and i’m serious. i don’t want to force you to say what happened so i’ll just talk about how my day went.”

he begins talking about his day, about what he did and what things reminded him of you and what things made him miss you. there’s a smile on his lips, but there’s worry clouded in his eyes, which you pretend not to see and just nod in amusement as he continues to list the things he did.

an hour later, when the two of you hang up, you receive a text from him. it’s a video of you in a garden sitting on a swing and laughing. it brings back a flood of memories from where it started, and you feel like you’re too distracted by the memories that the feeling you had in you earlier, has resided long back. it never fails to surprise you how he can make you feel the real you. with him, there’s no need to pretend. it’s just him and you. he tries his best yo understand how you feel, and considers your feelings sincerely. it’s his love for you that reassures you to not worry. because things eventually do work out.

౨₊ৎ minho

when minho saw you sitting on the couch half- dazed out he knew something wasn’t right. judging the way that even after being home for fifteen minutes he was just welcomed with a nod, it made him sense that something was very wrong. even after cooking your favourite food, there was no smile on your face and it made his heart burn.

without a single word, he heads upstairs. minutes later a shout from him his heard, telling you to head upstairs. so you do and upon entering you could feel your eyes blur as you look at the little pillow castle he created along with a laptop and a pack of chips.

“it was time for movie night anyways,” he sheepishly utters, while maintaining a casual look even though on the inside he is nervous for your reaction. a small smile from you is all it takes for him to return the smile twice as bright along with a hug. it’s the feeling of a warm embrace. that peculiar look of love on his face. perhaps it is also the way his hands are in your hair. but mostly, it’s his eyes that shine with adoration. those eyes that can speak a thousand words and even without anything communication there is still laughter that could be seen.

“do you feel better now?” his voice is calm and you know he’s trying not to force you from the way his fingers trace patterns on your palm.

“yeah, thank you so much,” you mumble and press a soft kiss on his cheek making him smile at you lovingly.

“do you wanna go out for a walk?” he questions suddenly making you look at him in confusion. he gets up while grabbing your hand. and when you nod, he doesn’t hesitate to drag you along with him while running as fast as he could, making you chuckle at his enthusiasm.

it was 11 in the night, yet he still is as energetic as ever. there’s an evident smile on his face as he swings your hand together with his, while walking down the isolated streets. there’s a silence, one that often gets interrupted because of some vehicle honking in a distance, but at least he’s there with you. right when you needed him.

with a fond look plastered over your face, you watch him talk about his day and about some of his annoying colleagues that managed to make his mood go sour. it’s amusing to see the way he takes one glance at you and changes the subject every five minutes, trying to keep your mood up.

౨₊ৎ changbin

“babe? it’s okay, just let me in?”

how long had it been since he had been knocking on the door using every persuasive writing key points he learned in elementary school to convince you to open up the door, but you were stubborn as ever and refused to even budge it a bit. you don’t exactly remember how you both ended up like this. was it because of it felt anxious to show your emotions fully in front of him? or was it the way you thought that he would think you were a crybaby?

“go away, please.”

you try to keep your voice firm, but it cracks the moment you hear him let out a deep sigh and try to coax you, he knew he can’t leave you alone, especially when you’re having a rough time. so he stays there for a moment, trying to think of something that will make you open up.

you and changbin had been dating for over 4 months now. all these 4 months were getting to know each other better and spending time together and eating and cooking together. it was fun. it truly was. with him, you felt like you could actually crack jokes and laugh as hard as you wanted to because he would never judge you. then why were you hiding your feelings from him?

being the type of person, who doesn’t like to share their problems with anyone else, it felt weird when he started asking you how your days were or if you were eating well. soon you got used to it, but you had no clue what to do when you would break down while he’s with you.

“baby? i don’t know what’s troubling you. is it me? or did anyone say something to you?” he questions softly while you try to muffle your sobs.

he waits for a reply, a sniffle, anything and instead hears the click of the door which makes him sigh in relief. he is quick to wrap you in his embrace and caress your head making your body shake from the sobs.

he stays like that for around five minutes before pulling away and cupping your face. he wipes your tears with his sleeves and looks deeply into your eyes.

“i don’t want you to ever lock yourself like that, okay?” he scolds you, but his soft tone says otherwise.

“you had me worried so much baby, if you’re not feeling well, ever, i repeat ever, just call me.”

though he couldn't see it, a soft smile tugs at your lips as you press a kiss to his furrowed brow. he was your safe place.

౨₊ৎ hyunjin

hyunjin drops your favourite chocolate over your lap, before nestling in beside you. wordlessly he copies your position and curls himself on the couch while staring at you. you don’t look at him. you don’t even try to acknowledge his presence, but you can feel it. the scent of his shampoo after he just came from a shower, it’s so familiar and smells like home which makes you sigh in content. even without doing anything and just by staying by your side he manages to provide you with comfort.

“did you miss me?” he cocks his head playfully while grabbing hold of your hands and manages to catch your attention.

“is that even a question?” you retort back making him chuckle.

it’s almost comical how at ease you feel just by his touch, his presence and his words. if there’s one thing that hyunjin is good at which never fails to amuse you, is the way he tries to act according to your moods.

if you’re happy, he’ll match your vibe and take you out on a late night convenience store date. if you’re angry, he’ll buy you some chocolates and snacks and remain patient for your anger to reside. and if you’re sad ( like today), then he’ll just listen or talk depending on whether you open up first or not. it’s not just the way that he loves being with you, but it’s the way that he puts in the efforts to understand you. to understand what’s wrong rather than acting immaturely. so in this relationship, he was the mature one, though at times he loves being babied as well.

“want to talk about it?” he whispers carefully, while glancing at you through the corner of his eye.

with a nod you delve into a ramble about everything that happened in detail. it doesn’t take long for him to begin adding his comments here and there as well. it makes you feel as if someone does observe you. as if, someone does listen to you.

“sorry, am i boring you too much?” you asked in a small voice, confused as to why he suddenly stopped adding on his thoughts.

“i could never be bored. you know why? it’s because i could literally do nothing and sit here, listening to your voice for hours,” it’s not the first time he’s ever said things like these to you and yet, they never fail to make you speechless.

“i need a cuddle,” he changes the subject swiftly and you laugh, “why are you so cute today?”

“i’m cute everyday,” he replies with a blank face as he turns to glance at you.

“i love you, you know that right?” you say with a wide grin on your face and wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him to death.

“i love you too, but i won’t allow you to kill me,” he huffs.

and there’s a good thing of being with him and eating your favourite pack of chocolates. it’s the best combination in the world. and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

౨₊ৎ jisung

“… are you okay pretty?”

jisung was busy on his phone, when he heard a sniffle, followed by another before he looked up to see you standing before the kitchen counter, clutching the counter pretty hard and with your shoulders shaking.

there’s no reply from you and he grows even more concerned. quickly making his way next to you, he silently shuffles and stands behind you, with his head resting on the crook of your neck and hands wrapped around your waist.

he has no clue what’s wrong but he hates this. he hates seeing you cry, regardless of what the reason might be. it breaks his heart even more when you hold his hand tightly and sob without looking at him. and he hates this so, so much especially when he sees the way you try to hide your tears from him. the least he could do was to be there for you when you feel low.

“i’ll be fine,” you mutter, trying to reassure him but he doesn’t budge even a bit. he stands there, glued to his spot, and just stares at you in worry. it’s almost as if he can read between the lines. i don’t want to be a burden, don’t waste your time on me. it makes him feel as if he failed. as if he failed to assure you that you could rely on him, he feels so frustrated because he loves you so much. he loves you so much that it he can’t help but cry along with you.

upon hearing his sniffle, it’s you that turns around shocked to see him already looking at you through tears. you chuckle weakly as he kisses your nose tenderly.

“why did you have to cry? no i’m crying too,” he whines and tries to wipe his tears but they keep flowing.

jisung had once made this rule of what’s yours is his too, looks like he took it too seriously. he takes away all your pain, all your sorrow in minutes. and you can’t even believe yourself sometimes, of how lucky you are to have a partner like him.

“you’re so silly,” you huff and wipe his tear.

“we’re so silly.”

he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, nudging your forehead with his.

౨₊ৎ felix

“she really said that to you?” he voices out his disbelief, as you continue telling how your friend just said something unacceptable.

“i can’t believe this. baby, you need to confront her about it, okay? whenever you’re ready,” he murmurs while pressing a kiss to the side of your head and staying in that position for over a minute.

“she’s my friend though,” you trail off when he sends you a stern look. “friends or not, she can’t just say things like that to you.”

when it came to felix, the most important thing was respect and care. he believed that caring and respecting others is the best way for bonding. even though some people might beg to differ, it’s his personal opinion. and when it came to you… he gets engulfed in this strange, unfamiliar feeling of the need to protect you and keep you safe.

be it even the least harmful ones like just bumping your hand on the wall, keeping the water warm for your bath since you hated it cold and many things that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“are you hungry by any chance?” he asks, while ruffling your hair slowly before brushing them back to make them untangled and gets up, almost about to head to the kitchen but still patiently waiting for your reply.

“it’s fine,” you send him a small smile, making him nod and disappear into the kitchen. minutes later, he returns back with two bowls of ramen and wordlessly places on in front of you and begins digging in.

“i didn’t see any dishes in the sink,” he muttered while glancing down at his bowl, making you pick up your bowl as well.

you found it different. different in a good way, how just talking things out with him is so easy. you don’t have to lie to him. you don’t have to hide your emotions from him. you’re an open book to him. and so is he to you.

౨₊ৎ seungmin

you just wished that you could disappear, if not for long perhaps at least for a day. the way your head is throbbing after your previous break down session is literally the worst feeling in this world (except when your favourite chocolate runs out of the store).

you squint and look around for your medications, but it’s too far away and you don’t even think you have the energy to even speak. but somebody else is faster. a certain someone who’s been watching you closely since the moment he heard you sniffle.

seungmin walks towards you and bends down before handing you a tablet and a glass of water. you give him a small smile and gulp them down together.

“you’ll feel better soon. do you to head to the bedroom to get some sleep?” he murmurs softly and keeps an arm on your knee out of habit.

“it’s fine, i slept in the afternoon anyways,” you reply, making him nod to himself.

there’s silence for a moment before he leaves the room. you look back up when he returns but with a book in his hands and a knowing smile on his face.

he plops next to you, and makes you rest your head on his lap.

with an arm across your stomach and the other holding the book, he begins reading it to you.

you don’t realize when exactly, but in this moment right now, you could feel as if you were bursting out of happiness. out of love and immense affection for the man named kim seungmin.

౨₊ৎ jeongin

“are you asleep?”

it’s been a few hours since he came back home and there is no wonder that he noticed the drastic change in your mood. he didn’t want to point it out thinking you needed time for yourself, but now it was making him feel guilty. he felt guilt creep up into him for not asking you and making you deal with your problems alone.

“not really,” you whisper back and he nods, the action producing a soft sound from the friction of the pillow. a minute later, you toss and face him. his eyes are fixated on you and there’s a sleepy smile that crawls over his face but it drops in an instant when he remembers about your mood earlier.

sighing softly, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and rests his hand on the nape of your neck. “i’m sorry for not asking you how you were feeling when you were clearly having a hard time.”

his voice sounds so… sad that it breaks your heart. you shake your head twice before telling him, “you just did what you thought was best. and it did help me clear out a bit of my head. just forget it, i’ll forget it too.”

he tucks his arm under your head and pulls you into his chest, “i’m sorry.”

jeongin didn’t know what to do except for comforting you at the moment, words were forming very slowly in his head and your answers were almost convincing which made him annoyed knowing how carelessly you brush away your feelings.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asks with slight hesitation, his voice no louder than a hushed mutter.

when he receives a nod from you, he smiles to himself and lets his eyes fall shut as he listens to you intently.

your voice slowly trailed off and when he looked down to see your eyes shut, he kissed your forehead gently and tucked the blanket around you properly. at least at the end of the day, he didn’t let you be on your own.

PERM TAGLIST: @taeriffic 🗯️ @hello-2-u-from-me 🗯️ @ilychee08 🗯️ @sleepyleeji 🗯️ @spacegirlstuff

[chiharuuu22]

What Caretaker Said?

What did Caretaker say to Whumpee?

"Shhh shhh. It's okay. It's all over," Caretaker said to the struggling Whumpee.

"Look at me, hey, look at me," Caretaker said so Whumpee wouldn't see the wound.

"Welcome back, Whumpee," said Caretaker to Whumpee who had just woken up from a coma.

"You'll get better soon, I promise," said Caretaker while gently stroking Whumpee's cheek.

"It was just a nightmare, Whumpee. It's okay," said Caretaker while hugging the shaking Whumpee.

"Welcome home, Whumpee!" said Caretaker as she pushed Whumpee's wheelchair through the door.

"I'll help you clean up, okay? It's okay; just tell me if you're uncomfortable, and I'll come right out," said Caretaker as she sat Whumpee in the bathtub.

"It's okay. We will return your weight to normal. Just take it slow," said Caretaker to Whumpee who was fixated on the reflection of his thin body.

"No, Whumpee. Please don't, you need it," said Caretaker while holding Whumpee's hand which was trying to pull out the medical equipment.

"Okay, okay, inhale slowly, hold it, and exhale. Yes, good. Keep doing that. In and out," said Caretaker to Whumpee who was panicking to the point of having difficulty breathing.

"I know you don't like it, but you have to take medicine, Whumpee. You want to get better quickly, right? Look, your medicine has been reduced since last week," said Caretaker who was trying to persuade Whumpee who was sulking because he didn't want to take his medicine.

"Oh, look at it! Your wound is getting better day by day!" Caretaker spoke cheerfully as she changed Whumpee's bandages.

"Slow down; you'll choke," said Caretaker as she helped Whumpee drink.

"Oh, you're awake, Whumpee. How did you sleep?" said Caretaker to Whumpee who had just woken up.

"I'm not going anywhere, Whumpee. I'm here," said Caretaker to Whumpee who was half conscious and kept calling her.

"This is porridge. The doctor said you can eat a little bit. It might taste bland, but try it first, okay?" said Caretaker while carrying a tray containing Whumpee's first food after getting better.

"It's okay. Tell me when you're ready. I'll wait," said Caretaker to Whumpee who was still afraid to say everything he had experienced.

"Oh, God! I thought I was going to lose you!" said Caretaker gratefully to Whumpee who was conscious.

"Hm? Well, I guess a little snack before dinner would be fine. There's chocolate and chips in the pantry. Which would you like? Both? Fine. Let me get it," Caretaker said with a laugh when Whumpee very rarely asked for a snack before dinner.

"There, it's done! Clean and fresh!" said Caretaker happily after finishing bathing and dressing Whumpee.

"Give me a name," said Caretaker angrily when she saw Whumpee covered in wounds in front of her.

"What? I won't leave you. Who said that?" Caretaker said she was confused when she asked why Whumpee was crying when she got home.

"I'm glad you're getting better," said Caretaker while stroking Whumpee's hand.

"Okay, try to catch your breath. The morning air is very good for helping your recovery," said Caretaker as she invited Whumpee to sunbathe in the morning.

"You've been sleeping for too long, Whumpee. Was your dream so beautiful that you didn't want to wake up? Was I there too? You know, I really miss you," said Caretaker to Whumpee who was lying in a coma.

"I'll accompany you until you fall asleep. Don't worry, I'll also be here when you wake up. So, go to sleep, okay?" Caretaker spoke gently as she put the exhausted Whumpee to sleep.

"Just rest; you deserve that. Don't think about anything," said Caretaker as she slowly laid Whumpee down.

"I love you, Whumpee," said Caretaker while kissing Whumpee's forehead.

Anything you want to add?