#but also i’m lonely and sad and tired and i want to take a shower and sleep and cry

[starbuck]

only at the Moby-Dick reading will you hear people randomly singing both the Dave Malloy Moby-Dick musical and The Mountain Goats… the only other time i’ve been surrounded by this many fellow queer was The Mountain Goats concert.

[bunni-bun]

fuck.

like i'm so mad and i'm crying and i feel like a cunt and maybe he's right or maybe i'm overthinking it like always but.

i just.

i get so fucking angry whenever my partner dismisses my feelings about politics or challenges me about them because he's a centrist idiot and all the content he watches is fucking garbage conservative assholes who think that people of color are DEI hires only and that woman can't make good content and that only the olds of disney should be allowed to do stuff and i'm just so tired. i'm so fucking tired.

i wonder a lot if i'm overthinking it because whenever i'm alone or in the shower or awake before him, the thoughts get me and then i get sad because i don't know what to fucking do anymore.

i wonder if i'm being defensive because he said he feels like an emotional punching bag whenever he calls me and he knows i hate HATE talking on the phone even though that's easier for him. but i also feel bad because i think he's right and i just get so mad and start letting it out and then flipping from one emotion to another to distract myself from blowing the fuck up on him for like breathing but i just don't know what to fucking do.

i feel like everything fucking time i tell him how i feel, it's for nothing. like he never hears me on it, just nods for a day or two and then goes back to this stupid fucking pattern of nothingness.

and i know i'm so frustrated and fed up with it, i'm so fucking tired of it. like babe, you're a fucking grown ass adult too. take responsibility for bettering yourself first and do not think for a single second that i will do that for you. i don't change people. i refuse to do it now, actually. i will change for myself and i will work to be a better person for me so that i can be proud of who i am and what i do. i do things to be proud of myself, to be better for myself, as much as i can. i genuinely hate that he doesn't see what i do for myself and then try to take a page form the same book to do better for himself too.

like. sorry but your mom is right to be worried and she's right to ask me to at least help you or talk to you because she loves you and i do too. but also it's fucking pointless if you're gonna be an asshole and 'joke' that "oh but you're a woman and the inferior sex so it doesn't matter lol". like no, it does and you're just an asshole. those jokes aren't funny, they're never fucking funny and i never laugh and neither are all the other 'jokes' that are just cruel fucking stereotypes that no one else is laughing at. jesus fucking cristo, read the room, have some introspection and fucking tact, get better friends and watch better content that doesn't always punch down on people, especially fucking minorities. i'm just so tired.

............. sometimes i wonder if this is worth it. all this anger and hurt and doubt. so much doubt. i wonder if this is a sunk cost fallacy. i wonder if i really love him. i wonder if i just don't want him to be lonely and i don't wanna be lonely. i feel so judgmental all the time because i feel like i have to compare my relationship to everyone around me who's happy and getting married or got married and still managed to build lives with a person they love. i feel like i’m not doing anything to better his life but he's also not doing anything to better mine. that's what a partner's supposed to do right? make you better, make you wanna be better and do better?

but it doesn't feel that way with us. i look at my sister and her husband and i want to cry so badly again because i see how he made her into a better version of herself and how he's told me that she makes him into a better man too. she's not perfect but she's better because she had the right partner by her side. i see my friend who got engaged recently and bought a house and a dog and got a promotion at her job and travels and has so much fun with her fiancé because they wanted to build their lives together and they do. i see my best friend who's quiet but so loved by her now fiancé and how he helps her be a better version of herself and to take chances and she does. i'm so proud of all of them. i'm happy for all of them, i really am.

but i'm also so fucking jealous of all of them. i want that too. i've wanted that for so long. it's all i want. and i feel like i'm getting nowhere and nothing from my partner. we don't go out, he's always asleep til like noon and never wants to leave the house, this sounds stupid but literally all he does is play video games until 4am while i fall asleep at midnight. it's like we live separate lives but sleep next to each other. i go out to visit jovana because she lives down the street and like we actually do stuff and plan things and she's a friend who encourages me to live life joyfully. but my own partner doesn't make me feel that way?

i said sunk cost fallacy cuz it feels like i put love or tried to be kind and good to someone who just fiend twang to fucking change. and i don't want to change him or force him to become someone he's not. i think one of the most profound things one of my exes ever told me was to stop trying to make him into another person cuz that's not who he is. he said once "you want me to be alex but i'm not. i'm me. you can't force people to change into another person. you can't." it stays with me even now. and maybe that's what makes me afraid of wanting to change my partner too. he's so fucking stubborn and won't things that are better or good for him and he overdoes them when he does. he won't listen to his mom or his sister or me when we all say the same fucking thing over and over again. and it's so tiring, it's annoying, it's so fucking frustrating because eventually you get to the "then why do i bother?" stage and that's where i am. cuz why do i bother? why do i try? why do i want to do this? do i want this?

i think of the future more now and each time i think of a possible future with him, i get so scared. i see nothing but misery in the sense that i feel like i would be putting my time and energy and love into someone who doesn't want to put the same amount of effort into themselves and i would be so frustrated and sad all the time. i would be miserable. i'd have a mediocre life and i'd be fucking miserable because that's not what i want from this life. why do i wanna live or have a life with someone who can't take the fucking trash out from the bathroom when it's full and i gotta remind him when i'm there? who i have to remind to eat? who makes fun of me when i say i'm hungry cuz he does fasting but i fucking don't because i had an ED and i need to eat? i get especially mad with that because "oh babe, it's a joke" no fuck you, i've said how it makes me fucking feel so many times and you still do it. it doesn't feel like a joke. jokes make you laugh and i'm not laughing, i'm going to fucking cry cuz i feel horrible about my weight and i get that shit enough at fucking home with my mom. i hate it so fucking much. it just makes me want to starve myself again. i already don't wanna be around people who fucking say anything about my weight cuz i get so defensive and so fucking self conscious and i feel like shit. thanks.

........but then.

then i think about how he doesn't have relationship experience and he does try sometimes and how he was always bullied in school and how that's one of the reasons i became his friend in the first place: i saw people being fucks to him and i decided that i didn't wanna be one of them because it's easier to be nice. and sure, he's awkward and weird but he did improve himself so much. he's a great friend when he needs to be. i went to his stepdad's funeral the minute i found out what happened because i care about him. i know he can be a better person. i know he can.

i think about how i get those glimpses of that better person sometimes and how i'm happy when i see that person because i love that person. i loved when we played star wars together because he knew i would i enjoy the story and he was right. i like when he cares about me and tries for a minute because then i see the person that i want to be with. i see the person who makes me happy. i want to see that person all the time because it's a sign that he's getting better too, that he's happier and doing something with me to be happy. i want him to be that way all the time. i want to see that person more often than the one that fucking frustrates me to no end.

he has a shitty job that doesn't respect him and that i'm pretty sure did an illegal pay cut on him but whatever i guess. he won't look for something at least a little better. he doesn't go out and this job comes back with him cuz he talks about the clinic and how it sucks a lot. i hate beating anything about that place, it pisses me off so much because i think and know that he deserves so much better but he is too stubborn to put the fucking effort into finding something better. so he comes home and sleeps like the dead and plays video games and maybe MAYBE ventures out to eat occasionally. i'm not stupid. that's literally depression. this job is hell and it's taking its toll on him and he doesn't want to see that. i know that deeply because my precious job did the same fucking thing to me and it nearly killed me. i know what i'm looking at. but he doesn't wanna acknowledge that so what am i supposed to do, even when i try and try and fucking try?

i do suicide prevention. i do it because i tried to kill myself. i do it because i have depression and anxiety. i do it because i want to be better for myself and for everyone around me. i work so fucking hard every day because i have to be better. that's not a choice for me anymore. i must be better. i will be. i am. and i do all of this because then people will be able to come to me and say "hey, i don't feel to great, can i talk to you?" so that i can at least street them in the right direction. everyone who knows me irl know this about me, it's literally part of my personality now.

so why the fuck can't the one person who also knows all this and saw me do everything to help the people i care about just ask me for help too? why won't he fucking listen to me?! i don't want to waste my life talk to walls, it makes me tired too, fuck!! but i do it because i love him and i want him to be that happy person that i've seen before, the better person that i get glimpse of. but i have my limits too. i have limits, boundaries, values, virtues, so many things that i fucking fight and stand for because i believe in the good of the world and i want to be good in this world. there's enough motherfuckers out there and i don't wanna be one of them.

but i'm tired. i'm so tired. i'm so frustrated. i don't know what to do. i can't magically change people. i wish i could, so badly, but i can't. and i feel so small not knowing what to do. i feel so..... useless. i'm crying again and i've been crying this whole time and i just don't know who to talk to about this or what to do. i feel selfish and like a cunt whenever i blow up on him. he's not a punching bag, he's a person with feelings and sometimes he doesn't know how to word things and i get that, i know that, i do. i wish i could go to therapy again. i can't afford that because i have a whole mountain of my own issues to deal with and i'm either going to spiral again or push through this but i'm just. i'm so tired. i don't want to fight. i don't want to be the bigger person. i want to lie down in my room and eat ice creme and watch my shows and fucking cry over how i wish i could have love like my characters do. i don't want to live like this, i don't. i don't. i don't. i hate that part of my life is dependent on another person too. i hate this. i don't want to be in this reality. i'm tired.

[gypsydean]

loneliness and suicide….

lonely , we all feel it. suicide, some of us know it. having to want to explain suicide and people constantly coming at you like.. why would ever think that? Don’t think that way. Life is good. you’re gona hurt the people you will leave behind. Do you hear the selfishness in those words? so even after I’m gone it’s still about everyone else but me? Ok. realize what y’all are actually saying. break it down like you’ll break people down, or go to the ends of the earth to dig so deep on someone you hate, or a partner who left you or whatever the fuck. everyone’s priorities are way the fuck off and let’s be damn real. me me me me me. get over yourself. YES love yourself, but in the way where you don’t feel like talking yourself down or feeling like it’s anywhere near ok to put someone else down. we all struggle to truly love ourself or put ourselves first then the rest. loneliness is so fucking hard, I find myself in recent events so incredibly sad and heartbroken if I’m alone in my room. it’s the loneliness place when it should be the safest. I cry and breakdown in the shower majority of the time. disappointed in myself , and the actions of others thinking that this life is just one big what the fuck. it’s so hard for me to see or feel like there’s actually good in life when it’s been nothing but awful. I know, I know, it can always be worse. Absolutely. but it can always be better. what are the things around you supposed to do if the inside of you, it’s deteriorating and your mind and heart have given up? nothing else matters when you don’t even have control or peace over your own person. think about it. suicidal shit has been flooding my mind more often than usual and it seems peaceful that when I’m gone , the pain will be gone. I don’t have to suffer or cry or hate myself anymore. everyday is so damn challenging but I have not given up. I’ve come close many times to giving up, but whatever little spark is still lit, I’m sure it’s love. I really don’t have true support beside a few people… but it hurts me to say that sometimes it’s just not enough. Cause I don’t know what to do. Where to begin so it always feels like I just keep fucking falling. I’ve been sleeping way more and I never sleep past the necessary hours. But I find myself sleeping all damn day. Waking up and sad that I did, and close my eyes again. people need help. things take time. I don’t want to hear your apologies should I leave this physical world, I just want to be heard, be seen and understood, that’s it. no gifts. no praise. just “I see you Sam, I’m proud of you” that shit goes a long fucking way. I will not give up but it’s really hard … I will always help those who need it , even though I need it too. I’m a nice girl, loving, kind and ever so caring . but rage and anger have filled my body because I’m so tired of everything, everyone, life and I’m not that person. I am sorry to people I have hurt, I’m sorry for pushing you away, I’m sorry for my anger but also need people to understand I always tell the truth and I’m going to tell you when something is not ok and when something that you did bothers me and is disrespectful. please know the difference between honesty and loyalty and anger and lies. I’ll never be on that other side but you will not make me look stupid because you want to change the narrative. If you can’t be honest, do not ever mention my name because I won’t stand for my name being dragged by your insecurities. God bless you all, be kind and don’t forget to be good to yourself. ⚔️🤍⚔️🤍⚔️

[marsrize]

Drift [AdrienxMarinette]

Summary: Not all relationships are made to last. Adrien and Marinette are going to learn it at their expense. Gabriel Agreste was finally defeated by Ladybug and Cat Noir. Adrien and Marinette started to date and eventually got married at the age of 18. However, their relationship slowly deteriorated over time. Despite the fact that his father was a criminal and had never aspired to follow in his father's footsteps, Adrien took up the torch of the Agreste brand. This brand meant a lot to him. Sure, it represented a lot of bad memories, but it was also the only thing that remained of what once was the joy of his family.

At first, Adrien tried to be the perfect husband for Marinette. He showered her with gifts and attention and they both seemed happy. Adrien was determined to make Marinette happy and prove his love for her. He would often surprise her with thoughtful gifts, like a new dress or a necklace he knew she had been eyeing. He would also make sure to take her out on romantic dates and always pay attention to the little details that made her smile.

"Marinette, I have a surprise for you," Adrien said one evening, as he led her into the living room of their spacious apartment.

Marinette looked at him curiously. "What is it?"

Adrien smiled and gestured towards the center of the room. There, in the middle of the floor, was a beautifully wrapped present.

"For me?" Marinette's eyes widened in surprise.

Adrien nodded. "Open it."

Marinette eagerly tore off the wrapping paper and gasped when she saw what was inside: a stunning, one-of-a-kind dress that looked like it had been designed just for her.

"Adrien, it's amazing!" Marinette exclaimed, turning around to admire herself in the mirror.

"I knew you would like it," Adrien said, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

Moments like these made Marinette feel loved and cherished. She couldn't help but think that Adrien was the perfect husband.

However, as time passed, Adrien's schedule became busier with his fashion empire, leaving him with less time to spend with Marinette. As the weeks passed, Marinette tried to be understanding of Adrien's busy schedule, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being neglected. She wanted to spend time with her husband, to have fun and enjoy each other's company, but Adrien was always too busy or too tired.

One day, as Adrien was rushing out the door, Marinette tried to stop him.

"Adrien, can we talk for a moment?" Marinette asked, her tone hesitant.

"Sorry, Marinette, I have a meeting in five minutes," Adrien replied, grabbing his briefcase.

"It's just that...I feel like we haven't spent much time together lately," Marinette said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"I know, and I'm sorry. But you know how busy I am with work and everything else," Adrien said apologetically.

Marinette nodded, but the disappointment was clear on her face.

"I'm so sorry, Marinette. I know I haven't been around as much lately, but I promise things will calm down soon," Adrien said, trying to reassure her.

"It's not just that, Adrien. It feels like you're not even here when you are," Marinette replied with a sad expression on her face.

"What do you mean?" Adrien asked, not fully understanding.

"I mean you're physically here, but your mind is always somewhere else. You barely talk to me, and when you do, it's always about work or your father," Marinette explained.

Adrien sighed, "I'm sorry, Marinette. I'm under a lot of pressure with the fashion line and my father's company. It's hard to balance everything."

"I know, but we're a team, Adrien. We're supposed to work together, not be strangers living in the same house," Marinette said, trying to keep her voice calm.

Adrien nodded, "You're right, Marinette. I'll try harder, I promise."

But despite his promise, Adrien's behavior only grew worse over time. He spent less and less time with Marinette, leaving her feeling lonely and unwanted.

"Why don't we go out tonight, Adrien? Just the two of us," Marinette suggested one evening.

"I can't, Marinette. I have a meeting with my father's company," Adrien replied, not even looking up from his laptop.

Marinette felt a pang of sadness in her chest. "Can't you cancel it? We haven't had a date night in months," she pleaded.

"I can't just cancel on my father's company, Marinette. I have responsibilities," Adrien said firmly.

"You always have responsibilities, Adrien. What about your responsibility to our marriage?" Marinette snapped, her frustration finally boiling over.

Adrien sighed, "I'm sorry, Marinette. I know I've let you down."

She smiles at him.

"No... It’s alright, I understand."

Adrien smiled back at her and left quickly. Marinette stood in front of the door for a moment and then slowly turned around, contemplating the emptiness of their apartment. When she had finally gotten together with her crush, this was not at all the kind of life she had imagined for them. When had things gone wrong?

 Their relationship only got worse with time.

Adrien sighed as he watched Marinette lazily sketching in her notebook. "You know, Marinette, you could be so much more. You have so much potential, but you just don't seem to care about your career."

Marinette looked up at him, surprised. "What do you mean? I care about my career. I love designing clothes and accessories."

"But that's just it," Adrien said, frustration evident in his voice. "You're content to just design for fun. You don't have any ambition or drive to make it big in the fashion industry. You're not taking your career seriously."

Marinette's expression hardened. "Excuse me? Just because I don't want to become the next Coco Chanel doesn't mean I'm not taking my career seriously. I work hard and I have my own goals."

Adrien shook his head. "I just don't see it, Marinette. You're not pushing yourself to be the best you can be. And it's frustrating because I know you have so much potential."

Marinette stood up, throwing her notebook down on the table. "I can't believe you would say that to me. You don't even know me anymore, Adrien. You're so focused on your work that you don't care about anything else."

Adrien opened his mouth to protest, but Marinette cut him off. "I think we need some time apart. I can't keep trying to make this work when you're not even willing to try."

This was the first time Marinette left the apartment to seek refuge with her parents. Unfortunately, it was the beginning of a long series of disagreements, until the inevitable happens. One day, Adrien and Marinette were sitting in their apartment, and Adrien spoke up. "Marinette, we need to talk."

Marinette looked at him, sensing the seriousness in his voice. "What's wrong, Adrien?"

"I feel like we've been drifting apart," he said. "We hardly spend any time together anymore, and when we do, it's like we're just going through the motions."

Marinette sighed. "I know, Adrien. I've been feeling the same way. But I don't know what to do about it."

Adrien paused for a moment before speaking again. "Maybe we should take a break."

"A break?" Marinette repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. "Adrien, we're married. What does that even mean?"

"I don't know," Adrien admitted. "But something needs to change. I can't keep pretending that everything's fine when it's not."

Marinette looked down at her hands, feeling a wave of sadness wash over her. "I don't want to lose you, Adrien."

"I don't want to lose you either," he replied. "But maybe this is what we need to figure things out."

And so, Adrien and Marinette separated for a while. However, as the weeks turned into months, it became clear that their relationship was beyond repair.

Adrien looked at her, his expression sad and regretful.

"I'm sorry, Marinette. I know I've let you down. I just don't know how to fix things."

Marinette shook her head, feeling a sense of finality wash over her.

"I don't think there is anything left to fix, Adrien. We've grown too far apart. I think it's time for us to go our separate ways."

Adrien looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness.

"Are you saying you want a divorce?"

Marinette nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her.

"I think it's for the best, Adrien. We both deserve to be happy, and I don't think we can find that happiness together."

Adrien nodded, looking defeated.

"I understand. I just hope that someday we can both find the happiness we deserve."

Marinette nodded, feeling a sense of sadness wash over her. She knew that it was the right decision, but it still hurt to let go of the life they had built together.

They filed for divorce and went their separate ways. It was a painful process, but ultimately the best decision for both of them. Marinette left with the miraculous, including the cat's ring, and Adrien was left alone with his thoughts, wondering where it all went wrong.

[corpseaten]

Sorry I ended up falling asleep yesterday, I guess I was too tired to notice it. I wanted to wish you goodnight but at the end I just thought it was too much. I think I was too tired to even notice and well, today I also have to go out to take a plane.

Most of the time I rot in bed if I’m not drawing or journaling, I get that. I feel particularly feel awful at the fact that I’m not able to properly function without feeling sad or neutral at everything. I’m into a lot of hobbies just to fill something I don’t have, I like to keep my mind busy to not think too much about it. I really haven’t read much about the replies you give to others because it irritates me to some extent but I should do so, maybe, if I feel like doing that. I still feel quite bothered about what happened to you and personally I’d shower you with attention and care.

I’m the obsessive type, I’m unhealthy and when I start to like someone that person becomes my primary obsession and I can’t think straight. I want and need to know everything about you but I’m trying to keep it under control for now, I can’t ask you everything about yourself if you still don’t know about me. I wish that I was there with you to keep you company and watch you. Liking someone would imply that I’m dead badly about you but for now I simply like you in a normal way, at least this is what I think and I’m still not sure myself. For now I know that I want to keep talking with you. I hate being ignored, when I put effort I expect others to notice it or I can get freaky. I’d probably end up feeling awful all day and get upset, I’d rather end up mad and vent about it to you than play the part of the so hurt person. I like to put others in their place when necessary. It can be stressful to reply to asks all way in one go, so I wouldn’t fault you for that

-🥩

That’s okay, I was asleep as well, since we have similar timezones, You could have said goodnight if you wanted to, I wouldn’t have minded it, a plane? Where are you going? I have only ever been on one and it was. very scary.

I rot in bed all of the time, I have no hobbies or anything, all I want to do is love someone, as pathetic as that is, I can function without feeling sad, it’s just when I am lonely I can grow super depressed, when I meet someone I really like, I find myself forgetting any negative emotion I ever felt. I hope you’ll find something better than doing things you do not enjoy that much, I have grown into a state where I can sit with my mind, I know the thoughts are there but, I ignore them. Why does it irritate you, hm? It wasn’t in an ask reply though, it was just one of my many tagless random posts about myself. Ahhh which thing are we talking about? Three things like that have happened to me in the time I’ve had this account, I am a magnet for tragedy. I am also bothered by it . . I don’t know why people chose to mess with me when I am so clear on what I am looking for, then run with their tails between their knees. Ah, Really? It’s nice you think of me fondly.

I feel the same, but mix in a lot of desperation — and also worshipping,which worsens my obsessive feelings. I can never do anything when I love someone, only them, my life.. doesn’t exist. You do ? You said you dislike it but, unfortunately a lot of information about me is in replies to asks , I can answer any questions you do have right now though, Ah, right, I do not know you, I never find myself really knowing anybody though, it’s never enough. Aren’t you watching my account right now though, I am confused. I’ll keep replying, then, you’re intruiging. As do I, I always feel like I always put my everything in to someone and get rarely anything back, It is like I put all the effort in, it really breaks my heart sometimes. Freaky? How so? Whenever I hear that I just think of . . well. you know what the word has came to mean on social media. Ahhh I feel that way too, when I feel ignored I presume I have been abandoned, and i stop seeing the person in the way i did before, if you really did feel the way you said, you wouldn’t go that long without me, I would never do that. I wonder what you mean by that as well, how do you put others in their place? My apologies for so many questions, I am an entity of curiosity. I reply to my asks whenever I can, just sometimes I do get busy and overwhelmed . . . or too tired to type.

Thank you for your good morning message too, presuming that since you told me not to reply on it, replying here is okay? You did send it pretty soon upon my wake.

[onedayatatime-please]

Thursday, Aug. 15th, 2024. 1:03 pm

I've spent the whole day with extreme anxiety. I did my breakfast sandwich, shower, and everything like I said I would, but in between has been spent doing breathing exercises to try and calm myself down as my heart has been racing. I have been sitting in front of my computer emotionally prepping for my therapy appointment only to get a call five minutes before its supposed to start telling me that its been cancelled because the therapist had some sort of emergency and is now no longer taking new clients. This is fine, shit happens. Im now just emotionally exhausted and a bit upset that I had to change the person I wanted to be my therapist, and the new person im going to do intake with seems good but not quite as good. Who knows, maybe im wrong and Im gonna end up loving them but Im so fucking tired.

Also I had a dream last night where I was back on Randy's farm and got to say hi to Bandito. He must be a very old horse now if he is still alive (I know his mother passed a few years ago), and in my dream his hairs were greying a bit, but he still had the white pattern around his eyes. There was a girl there working on the farm and we were flirting, and in the dream I was kinda hoping to get with her. Most of the dream was spent on the farm, but at some point it shifted to a desert scape and suddenly I was in a war zone and hiding out in some low mud buildings from a group of soldiers. As some point a soldier found me and the last thing I remember from my dream was crying and begging for my life as he pointed his gun in my face. Very weird to have those two things happen one after the other.

I woke up feeling like I had not slept at all, which has been pretty much how I've been waking up every day recently.

I'm gonna clean the house and get ready for my cousins to be here in 3 hours. I am also going to try and photograph some more drawings for my portfolio so I can work on uploading them when I am visiting with my grandparents.

I am not dead yet, I will do my best to keep it that way.

9:42 pm edit:

Dinner went well and now I am very tired. I had a call with 🪶. He’s going to another city on the same days I’ll be near him. I think it’s time I move on from him. I loved him so much, and it’s not his fault that his life is falling apart. I want to be there for him and I want to keep loving him because I love loving him but I know it’s not sustainable. A part of me feels like I should just go along for the ride, I’m twenty, it doesn’t need to be sustainable yet. But I don’t want a ride, not really. He does tho, he wants to do crazy shit and that would be fine if we could work together to sustain our relationship on top of that but that doesn’t seem likely. This has been coming for so long I don’t really feel sad about it yet, I just feel lonely. I haven’t felt like I’m actually in a relationship for a while. And he was the one who made me want a sustainable relationship in the first place. I was so set on being lonely, but then I met him and it made me realize that I really do want another person, I want to be married, I want kids. But he doesn’t want any of that yet and he probably doesn’t want it with me either way. I’m glad that we were able to love each other for the few years we did. I wish things could be simple, but they are not. I don’t want to break it off with him because I’m afraid of experiencing true loneliness again after knowing what it’s like to actually not be lonely. Either decision leads to me being fucking miserable for a certain amount of time and I keep doing this thing where I try to negotiate and find a middle ground where I can be kind of okay for a little bit but that’s not how all this shit is gonna work in the end. I love him and I know that he loves me but we are at a time in our lives where we cannot fulfill each others needs in a stable relationship and so instead we are probably going to part ways and never hear from each other again and the thought of that makes me fucking sick.

I feel like a coward for wanting to leave him when he is struggling even though he is actively pushing me away.

I Wanna be an Astronaut floating through space

And be tied to a ship by a cord and just be simple and quiet.

But instead I’m a dog.

I’m gonna go to the ocean soon, so I can float in the water.

I’m not dead yet, I will do my best to keep it that way.

[star-kovs]

I’m sad because I’m starting a new semester of school. It’s most likely going to be my last. I feel like it’s holding me back. I’m ready to move on. I want to move away, to another city and start the rest of my life. There’s nothing for me here. I’m not looking forward to any part of where I see this city going nor fond of how it is currently. I have no close family members to miss here or any friends to leave behind. I never forged the connection with the people here to make any.

I’m ready to start the next chapter of my life but mourn all the experiences I should have and deserved to have. I never had the people or was in the place to have them. I feel like I have also missed personal milestones because I haven’t had them, like my first kiss or my first mature relationship (first relationship while I was older and not in kindergarten or so).

I just feel stuck and lonely. I deserve to feel loved by someone other than my family. I want romantic and platonic friendship love. I deserve it. I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong to not have it but I also know it’s not all on me. It’s nobody’s fault but relationships are also a two-person job. And I haven’t had much luck in the 13 years since we moved back here.

I’m working on loving and caring for myself more. After not receiving the outside love I desperately longed for, I think part of me decided that it was okay to not keep up with caring for myself. I let myself go, which also came with the depression. I’ve been overweight most of the time, for the majority if not all of the last 10 years or so. I don’t make any effort to get enough sleep, and I’m naturally a night owl, which doesn’t help. I like feeling clean but I have a hard time making myself take a shower. I struggle making myself do things I do not want to do, and do not make any effort to do things for the simple reason that they are good for me or would be good to do. I procrastinate a lot as a result. I’m late to a lot of places and struggle to make myself leave the house sometimes even though I need to be some place or I would enjoy going there (this problem really started during the pandemic, during lockdown, but I still struggle with it from time to time). I don’t hate myself. But I also don’t show any love or care to myself. And I deserve better on this end too.

I’m just so tired of the way things are. I’m ready for a change, a change that can’t come yet. But I’m ready for it, and I know I deserve better than what I’ve had. All I can do is work to make what I can control better and hope the major change can come sooner rather than later.

[maggiealbright]

wreck.

trigger warnings: illness, cancer, death mention/death, anxiety attack

“There are things to consider,” Olivia admonished sternly from the hallway, in the way that Olivia says things that means both ‘I support you fully’ but also ‘I am prepared to take over completely’. She had not, Maggie noticed, allowed the door to fully close. That felt like a slight, but so did most things Liv did, and Maggie didn’t have the energy anymore to figure out if it was passive aggression or actual obliviousness that made her sister so casually offensive, sometimes.

Turning away, she blinked, then watched the traffic beneath them sputter along a the street. Across it, a parking lot for employees. She’d parked there more than once. No one had bothered to give her a citation. In her experience here, the pattern of relationships is cyclical: people grow familiar. And once that happens, they grow fond, sometimes. Tolerant, at least. But more than anything, they grow sad. For you. About you.

“I’m sure they’ve discussed it,” their mother curtly dismissed, unwilling to handle both this conversation and the spat she anticipated would blossom from it. In recent weeks, every attempt Olivia made was aggressively rebuked. Maggie wasn’t hungry, even on the days she couldn’t remember eating last. Maggie didn’t need new clothes, even after a record five days without showering. Maggie didn’t want coffee, though her body screamed at her for allowing it to suffer in the absence of caffeine. She didn’t want Olivia. She didn’t want her parents—doting and prodding and touching, her, and even Jane. Her mother holding her hand. Maggie hated it. She hated that she hated it.

She wanted Jane to tell her to stop it. Say she was being ridiculous. Say it was okay.

Only one of those things, of course, was true.

There were actually things to consider, to Olivia’s credit, but they were largely easy to do so when you’ve had time to prepare, which they’d had a few months of, and Maggie was very, very good at doing. Jane wanted to be cremated, she’d decided, after weeks spent researching the absolute dumbest methods of “immortalization” imaginable—ashes shot into space, ashes turned into coral reefs, ashes littered around a Disney attraction to ruin it for everyone else.

“I want to be the best dead fiancé you’ll ever have,” she would assert sweetly, her tired eyes still, somehow, twinkling.

“You’ll be the only one,” Maggie murmured, unamused by this macabre line of thinking that Jane was somehow so comfortable existing with. Still, this was as close to a nice thing as she had to focus on, really. Josh would be her fiance forever, in a way. It had a gross, oddly sweet sentimentality. 

“Fingers crossed for you,” Jane would offer, morbidly.

Anyway, so there was no burial. Not a proper, stand-at-a-graveside-and-mourn one, at least. For this, Maggie felt slightly cheated--she’d wanted to make a spectacle of her love for Jane, and since they’d run out of time for a wedding, a funeral was her next best shot. But it was not to be. Instead, Jane’s parents and siblings orchestrated a memorial for her back in Oregon, full of photoboards and music and alcohol. Maggie spent a lot of it in Jane’s parents’ en-suite, thinking about how Jane was gone, now, and this was the world after her, and it was terrifying and lonely, and she couldn’t even watch Jane be lowered into the ground, see her body taken by the dirt. Instead it sat in an urn, downstairs.

--

Once Maggie came back to Philadelphia, on any given night at any given time, someone was somehow always “in the neighborhood”, bringing food, or offering to pick up the living room that had become Maggie’s new home base because she couldn’t sleep in her and Jane’s bed, or do a load of laundry, or make a pot of coffee, or vacuum, or anything to force a restart, essentially, to return Maggie to factory settings, to before she became stuck like this forever, broken and useless. Caught in a loop. This would be a nice thing–and was a nice thing, really–and Maggie appreciated the nice thing openly, publicly, appropriately. 

But she could not appease them. The loop was comfortable. In its’ ring laid Maggie’s entire life, the mess of it unraveled gloriously, again and again. Her life had come apart at the seems, her future now dead to her. She began to think of her life like this: not as things that may unfold, but as a series of events that had already happened, a touching montage like the ones at Jane’s memorial, played on a loop endlessly until the screens were taken down and the projectors turned off.

At least from here, in this rut, laying on her couch until four in the afternoon and then getting up only to amble around the apartment like a disoriented ghost, she could exist in the junkyard of her grief.

Nothing she owned could be passed without Jane’s memory flooding her—the bed Jane broke when they moved in, but gave an Oscar-worthy performance pretending it was already like that; the stupid, threadbare t-shirt from her high school volleyball team in the laundry basket. She kept it there for weeks, afraid to touch it. 

—

The truth of  Maggie’s wreck was not that it was beautiful, or poetic or sweet or romantic or deserving–or even capable–of being understood. It was just, as wrecks often are, a devastation. She felt mangled for months, as though she’d gone countless rounds with an invisible opponent, death and all its fanfare having kicked the shit out of her. 

She had texted with Jane’s siblings periodically, usually cursory check-ins. But she spoke to Jane’s parents once a week on the phone, like clockwork on Sunday evening, and each time they sounded so outrageously sad for her that her hands shook; as soon as they’d said their goodbyes, she’d power the phone down and shove it in her bedside table, not turning it back on until the next afternoon. She was afraid to leave the house, afraid to be seen, to be perceived. She spent all of her PTO and sick days laying in bed. 

The night before she was due to return to work, she hid in the bathroom for hours, her chest convulsing. She called her sister. Within twenty minutes, Olivia was at her door, using her key, rushing her way in. She acted as if it was an emergency, and maybe it was. Maggie laid in her lap for hours, until finally, Olivia coaxed her into bed. They laid facing each other, their hands clasped, as they sometimes did when they were little. 

The next morning over silent coffee, Olivia said plainly, in her ‘I totally support you’ and ‘I’m prepared to take over completely’ voice, “You need to go to therapy.”

And she was right.

--

It was a Thursday family dinner when she informed the family--well, her parents and Olivia and Olivia’s boyfriend (she thinks his name is Greg, but it doesn’t really matter, because Maggie has spoken to him twice and both instances have been about—you guessed it—Olivia)-- of her plans. There were many differing opinions offered without restraint or regard for how much Maggie cared about them on renting a car in contrast to flying. Nobody told her it was a bad idea. Nobody told her it wasn’t the right time. Her father, notably quiet, simply looked at her for a long time, until Olivia asked him to pass the green beans.

“I think she knows when she’s ready,” she heard her mother saying later as she did her nightly cold cream/eye serum routine in the upstairs bathroom. She could not--didn’t want to--hear her father’s response. The truth was, she didn’t know. She didn’t know what quantified being ready, what that metric looked like when it was met. She just knew she wanted to do this. And maybe that was enough. Jane would have thought it was enough. Jane was ready. 

Jane had been ready. 

—

Maggie had never been a big fan of being outdoorsy, and she knew Jane knew that, and she knew Jane knew that and still did with this information what she had--left specific instructions in a note, to be carried out “whenever.” Jane would often have to beg Maggie to go for a hike with her, and when she relented, she’d complain for the majority of it. They’d fought about it, a few times–-or, more, about how Maggie didn’t do anything without complaining, and how Jane never let her do anything without making her feel like she had to enjoy herself, and then Jane called Maggie immature, not understanding why she needed to lash out when she had the slightest idea that something might change, or be different. Maggie could remember almost all of the exchange now as she worked her way through the woods toward some unknown endpoint, surrounded by the thing Jane loved, and, so, surrounded by the idea of her, and, so, surrounded by the idea of her being gone. Maggie timed her footfalls with her breathing, and found it hard to exhale evenly, the air catching in her throat. 

Maggie had once said on a drive home from some trail in the Catskills--a Jane vacation pick--that the water was “pretty but that she didn’t need to see a waterfall to know that”, and that the “colors of the leaves weren’t reason enough for her to go spend four hours in the rain walking through mud”, and that “all trees looked the same”. Now, Maggie looked up from her feet to find that, here, she was right--all trees did look the same: tall and ominous and all-knowing. She felt small. 

The waterfall grew louder, soon, almost deafening, and Maggie’s heart lurched, starting to pound in her ears. There were so many mechanics to this she hadn’t considered: what if there were other people? How much did she leave? How much could she stand to lose? How much did it even matter. 

When she finally arrived at its base and beheld it in all its’ splendor, hundreds of feet tall, she wanted to feel majesty. She wanted to feel moved. Instead, she simply felt validated: it was…a waterfall. 

Well, Jane’s waterfall, now.

__

That night, in the motel off of Route 5 that advertised $59-a-night rooms and a Jacuzzi tub with a ‘z’ missing from the sign, Maggie laid on top of the covers, listening to the sound of the rain pounding against the window. She’d planned to star her drive home in earnest, but quit after two hours of white knuckle driving in zero visibility, and here, in a kind of stasis between what she’d just done and her daily life, she had the burden of time. 

She thought about the book from the library that she liked the most, the one that didn’t encourage staying busy or being strong–it was “A Beginner’s Guide.” She only remembered bits and pieces of it, having read it over the course of a handful of hours in the middle of the night and then moved on to the next one that had been given 4+ stars on the internet, but the pieces she remembered seemed more important now than they had at the time. That stasis–the loop--can end. Should end. Will end. 

But this one–the one where she moved through grief like thick fog, the one where she was always Poor Maggie, the one where she would wake up to an empty bed and cry about a toothbrush or a shower loofah–this was infinite. This loop was her entire existence, now. This loop was where she kept Jane, in whatever sick way. 

She took in a deep, shaky breath, and then a wracking sob shook itself loose from her ribs, clawing its way out. She hid her face in her hands, the cool of her ring pressing into her cheek.

This was not what she had thought might happen when she had read the books, or watched the movies, or listened to the music, or talked to her therapist. It didn’t even feel like the grieving she was supposed to be doing. It wasn’t beautiful, and it wasn’t meaningful, and it certainly wasn’t gratifying. It didn’t feel like a release. It didn’t feel like anything.

It just hurt. It just was. 

In all the time she had had since Jane’s diagnosis, in the hours of research and planning, in the nights alone in the apartment, she had never felt this. 

This was something new. Something foreign. 

It was the wreck of her entire life, shattered and twisted, incomprehensibly destroyed, laying before her, waiting on her to be reassembled. A day would come, eventually, when the pieces would need to be recognizable again. Sorted. Then, usable. Purposeful. Meaningful. Something Jane would love. Something Jane would be proud of. 

Even if it was without her.

[keefwho]

November 24 - 2022

8:53 AM

I gotta find a way to tell my parents I don’t want ANY of their food for thanksgiving. What will probably happen is mom will make me a plate and I’ll take it to eat in my room but I’ll just throw it out. I know the status of their food/kitchen, its GROSS. REALLY gross, this isn’t me being a clean freak. Their kitchen is filthy by normal people standards. And their idea of food safety is fucked too. I don’t want to eat from a kitchen with 5 dogs in it, rotten food on the counters, most things past their use by date, perishables that have been left out for hours before being put back in the fridge, and BUGS everywhere. Fuck man. Mom’s saying she’ll give me a whole miniature hen and a pie and asking if I’ll eat with them for Thanksgiving. As much as I’d like to in theory, I won’t be. 

With literally anyone else, I’d just tell the truth. I’d just say I don’t want to eat your food for “X” reason. But I know my parents won’t understand and will jump to some wild conclusion and suggest I see therapy or some shit. Nah, ya’ll are just FILTHY by anyone’s standards. THEY need therapy, for real. Its such a dysfunctional household. 

10:54 AM

I hate when I get lonely but also don’t want to talk to anyone. There’s maybe 2 people I can think of that I’d actually want to spend time with today but they are both busy. So its gonna be a melancholic day unless I end up feeling like socializing with strangers or something. Its totally my fault for being picky. 

12:24 PM

My plan is to push through my mental anguish until I get work done, and then I can start doing something to counter how I feel. Maybe I’ll force myself to be social, or dedicate myself to some project like my VR furry world or trying to learn guitar again. 

I don’t know why it feels impossible for me to make friends. I’ve clearly already made some. But strangers seem like unreachable people. And I don’t really want to make new friends, I like the ones I have. I just wanna spend time with them. Having to talk to strangers because no one is around feels like I’m just meeting my body’s needs which is kind of like using them for my own gain. I know it’s probably a mutual exchange but I still don’t like it. I should get over it and accept myself as a social creature like everyone else is. I gotta do what I gotta do. 

1:18 PM

I think the idea of eating breakfast before 10am, then having 10am - 6pm be busy hours is a good idea. It makes me not feel so rushed with comms because I never operate so late but now I have the ability to without thinking I’m doing too much. 

2:07 PM

My whole day is off. Its sad boy hours and I’m late to finishing things. Im gonna shower and try to finish up with commissions. 

4:03 PM

I wanted to eat my little Turkey pot pie today but I’m not strong enough for it right now. It would be a little mental exercise because I have this aversion to eating things out of the bottom of my freezer even though I’ve confirmed it’s functioning properly. It’s not a very big challenge but today my mental strength is at 0. I’d rather eat something familiar and cozy especially since my appetite today has been poor. 

I hope my parents don’t expect anything out of me today. They tend to take holidays very seriously. Like it’ll be a deep personal offense if I don’t go over there and eat with them. At least thats how it used to be. I can’t remember doing anything with them for Thanksgiving last year but I think that’s because they went to a friend’s house or something. 

11:48 PM 

Sometimes I get really tired of my own art. Probably because I have to look at it constantly. But it sucks because I can’t really get a grasp on the actual quality of anything I make until a lot of time has passed. 

I wish I could just do something differently but its never that simple. I don’t even know what I’d want to do different. Anything I choose to change about how I draw has to be slow and gradual for me to know if I really like it or not. Or how practical it is. Maybe I need some more time to play around. I often stop myself from experimenting because I’m always working on things that I don’t want to take risks on. 

The solution to all my art problems is usually getting some new info into the system. Something I haven’t done in a long long time is copying art that inspires me. Watching tutorials can also help. 

My night was SAVED with some bestie time. I don’t think it’s healthy that I tend to rely so heavily on time with my friends but how do I/ should I fix that? Maybe it’s normal to feel lonely when the only people you want to hang out with are unavailable. Am I supposed to emotionally leave them behind temporarily for other people? I think I’d rather be a little sad for awhile and wait for them. I can take care of myself in the meantime. 

[nickfowlerrr]

pretty when you cry - chapter two

series masterlist / chapter three

*originally posted to @bellareadsandrecs on 02/08/22*

pairing: dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

pretty when you cry - lana del rey

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. body insecurities. mentions of paranoia. anxiety, panic attacks, humiliation. NONCON/DUBCON smut. mean!bucky. loss of virginity. 18+ ONLY.

words: 4.1k

notes: : i really want to get into bucky’s thought process and get into the truth of his motives here but i’m not sure how to approach it.. i’m considering like maybe rewriting some chapters from bucky’s perspective if i can’t incorporate it into the current narrative but let me know what you guys think about that!

again, i always do my best to tag appropriately, but if you find i’m missing anything, please do not hesitate to let me know! as usual, feedback is always appreciated 💘

This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

It was when you finally pulled into your driveway and stepped out of your car that you noticed the motorcycle drive by. That’s just a really fucked up coincidence, you thought to yourself as you cautiously walked up the driveway to your front door as you watched it pass.

You got inside and cried. You showered. And then allowed yourself to cry even more. After tiring yourself out, you went to grab food but only found dry pasta, an unopened jar of spaghetti sauce, and your last pack of saltines - which you almost grabbed but thought better of. Deciding that it’d be too much effort to make the pasta, you made the short trip back to your room. You’d be getting paid tomorrow anyway, so you could go grocery shopping in the morning. You then got ready for bed as you put on your comfort show and fell asleep.

Morning came and went and you finally woke up to the light shining into your room in the early afternoon. You checked your bank to make sure your direct deposit was there and then Venmo’d your landlord your rent before quickly getting ready for the day and headed to the grocery store.

You didn’t need a lot, not that the small supermarket had all that much to offer anyway. You always preferred this store though, not only was it usually pretty dead but it also helped you save money seeing as there wasn’t much you could splurge on. You grabbed your necessities and made your way to the checkout. Luckily self checkout was open because you really weren’t in the mood for any human interaction. You quickly purchased your items and loaded your cart with your bags. You walked out with your groceries, loaded your trunk, walked the cart back to its home, taking notice of the desolate lot you found yourself in. Mondays were always good to you. No rush, no work, no worries. You loved the peace that you often found on these days. Where you could go driving around, running errands or even just going to get coffee. Playing your music loudly and singing at the top of your lungs before heading home and lounging for the rest of whatever you had left of the day.

There was a time you remembered sulking your off days away. Feeling sad and lonely. Always so desperate for change, but never allowing any to take place. You laughed under your breath at yourself. You always felt such a strong sense of longing, like something or someone was missing from your life. But that longing was what kept you so held down. When you finally decided to stop focusing on your lack, you allowed a lot more happiness and peace into your life. No more waiting on some grand event to take place and change everything, no more waiting on some knight in shining armor to come sweep you off your feet. Now you were.. Content. Some days were harder on you than others, sure, but most were good. You were good. Exactly as you were, you were okay.

Smiling to yourself, you made your way back to your car and upon checking the time you saw it was nearing 4pm.

You decided to take the 20 minute drive to the other end of town to visit Norman’s and probably pick up something for dinner. You knew Eva would be working today and she’d be able to get your order done quickly. You called it in and Eva assured you it’d be ready for you when you got there. Once you arrived, you saw her standing out front of the diner with a takeout bag in hand. She gave you an unease smile as she saw you approaching and you quirked a brow at her. She nodded her head to the side of the building, causing you to look toward that direction. That’s when you saw the line of motorcycles that were parked against the side of the building. Your face fell and you felt ill at ease. Why would they be here? They had never been there before- at least not when you were working. Eva approached your car and you rolled your window down.

“Hey,” she gave you a sympathetic smile. “I’m really sorry- I would have told you they were around but they got here literally right after we hung up. And… I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but, one of them asked for you. Like, by name. I didn’t say anything - but he obviously knows you work here. I wasn’t sure if you knew him or not. I thought, I don’t know, maybe you met him on your shift last night or something.”

“Uhm, wh-who was it, do you know?”

“Tall, gruff, intimidating. Dark hair, blue eyes. And as much as I hate to say it, almost unbearably attractive. Didn’t get his name, though. He left a little while after asking for you, everyone else stayed.”

That had to be Bucky. Great.

“Okay. Well, uh, thank you,” you started as she handed the bag through the window., “oh but wait, I didn’t pay!”

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughed lightly, waving you off. “Get home safe! I’ll see you on Tuesday. But, uh, call me later. Seems like maybe you have something to tell me,” she speculated with a raised brow.

“Hm,” you nodded as you exhaled through your nose. “I’ll see you later,” you evaded with a tight lipped smile.

You pulled away and drove back home, now paranoid that you were being followed. How did he know where you worked? And more importantly, why did he care? Why was he asking for you?

Pulling into your driveway and parking, you then grabbed your bags from the back of your car and headed inside. You were on edge so you decided to put on music while you unloaded everything.

You started to relax and once you had it all put away, you went to grab a plate from your cabinet to put your food on. But the plate in your hands fell to the floor and shattered when you spun around as you were startled by a deep voice. It was somehow, unsettlingly, familiar? and was coming from the small hallway that leads to your bedroom.

“You should invest in better security. Sweet girl like you, living all alone in a shoddy town like this, it can be dangerous,” he spoke ominously as he walked toward you, now entering the kitchen fully. He was dressed in a dark gray long sleeve shirt, rolled up to his forearm and black jeans. Not much different from the outfit he wore last night, but without his jacket and gloves on, you could now clearly see his left arm was made up of some kind of metal, and it made him all the more intimidating.

“Wasn’t too shoddy til you and your friends got here,” you said defiantly. You didn’t know where the confidence to say something like that to him came from, and it was too late to unsay it once you opened your mouth.

He chuckled darkly and slid his tongue across his bottom lip as he moved ever closer.

“Steve said you had a problem with manners, but I really didn’t believe it. I guess you’d need a sharp tongue working a bar, though,” he mused.

“What - what do you want?” you spluttered while shaking your head, “What are you doing in my house?” you asked him, not wanting the conversation to drag on any longer.

“What do I want?” He said before taking a deep breath, almost taunting. “Hm. Well, it’s not really about what I want, sweetheart. The last thing I want to do is be here, but like I said last night, I have an example to set. Can’t just let anyone get away with touching my things, especially my bike,”

“No, I did- I didn’t purposely touch it. He, Steve, he tripped me and I fell into it,” you rushed out. “And you said last night- you said you were gonna let me off easy, so what happened to that?”

“I did let you off easy,” he spoke as he towered over you now, trapping you against your counter. “I never said you were off the hook.”

“What are you doing,” you whispered and tried to flinch away as his flesh hand came up to brush the stray hairs away from your face. His hand fell to your jaw and he held your face tightly.

“You know what I normally do to people who fuck with my things, huh?” He asked harshly. Not that you could respond verbally even if you wanted to with the way he was holding you. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried your best to shake your head. His grip loosened as he continued talking.

“Normally,” he laughed humorlessly, “normally I’d beat them bloody and unconscious.” His hand relaxed on your face completely now and he brought his other hand up to hold your face gently. “So I really am letting you off easy, sweetheart,” his eyes were on yours before traveling to examine every inch of your face, “I couldn’t find it in myself to mess up this pretty face,” he spoke as his thumbs stroked your cheeks. You couldn’t do anything, you felt like you were frozen in place, “…so I let you go home. And then I spent my night trying to figure out what to do with you. There’s really only one way to put this issue to rest. You remember what I told you last night?” he asked as he looked to your eyes once more. “The only way someone would get away with touching my bike is if I’m fucking them. Seeing as I don’t want to hurt you too bad, this is the best compromise,” he finished as his hands found your neck, slowly dragging them down to the neckline of your shirt.

You started to hyperventilate. You wanted to scream, or try to fight him off, or just try to run for it, but you couldn’t do anything as he grabbed your shirt and began ripping it off of you. He groping your chest through your bra and leaned in close to speak in your ear,

“Don’t worry, I won’t drag this out,” he said before pulling away slightly as he took off his own shirt and moved to lift you in his arms. You tried to protest but it was a futile attempt as he picked you up like you weighed nothing and began making his way to your bedroom. “Believe me, I don’t wanna do this anymore than you do, sweetheart… Well, maybe a little more,” he smirked.

“What the fuck is happening,” you muttered as you panicked and your breath once again caught in your throat as you struggled to regulate your breathing and gain hold on the situation quickly unraveling before you. He dropped you down on your bed and the movement seemed to wiggle something loose in your brain because you suddenly came back into yourself and tried to make a run for it.

He blocked you in while he stood in front of your door and shut it behind him. He kicked his boots off and began unbuckling his belt as he shook his head at your weak escape attempt.

“Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be, huh? I fuck you, I leave, and we’re square. I’m sure I’ll forget all about you by the week’s end. Or you can fight, I still fuck you, and maybe you end up a little more worse for wear. The choice is yours,” he shrugged.

You didn’t say anything. You just stood there and tried to plead to him with your eyes. Praying that your body would catch up to your mind and you’d be able to do something, anything. You watched as his eye twitched ever so slightly and he grimaced for half a second before finding your gaze again.

He pulled the waistband of your leggings toward him and then let it snap back against you. “Take them off. Now,” he growled.

“Please,” you whispered as your voice broke. You felt the tears start to fall down your cheeks as you stared at him.

“I’m not going to tell you again. Hurry the fuck up,” he barked.

You flinched and numbly moved to take off your leggings while he removed his jeans. When you were both standing in just your underwear, he approached you once more and moved his hands to the back of your bra where he unclasped it and let it fall to your feet. His hands found your breasts and he began to play with you as you took a sharp breath at his foreign touch. You were a 25 year old virgin - to say you were touch starved would be an understatement. But there was no way you should have found the feeling of him on you as good as you did. His hands slid down to your waist as he continued to squeeze and feel you; running his hands up and down your torso as you closed your eyes tightly, not wanting to see his face as he stared at your body with something akin to awe. It couldn’t have been, though. Not with the way he was talking to you- about you. He spoke as if this was a chore that he truly did not want to have to complete. Like he wanted to get it over with and be on his way. As if he wasn’t the one forcing this on you. Forcing this entire situation. He really didn’t need to do it, was all you kept thinking. Who would know otherwise? It’s not like you planned on sharing it with anyone. You’d say or not say whatever he told you and just be done with it. But it seemed he was adamant about making you pay for his friend fucking with you. Bullshit “biker code” must really be taken seriously if he was willing to go this far. It just didn’t seem to make sense to you. Was that really all this was about?

His hands settled on your wide hips and you hated yourself for the embarrassment that overwhelmed you. Why was your train of thought going to how gross he must find you and your body? Why were you embarrassed for him to see you like this as if his opinion mattered at all? You felt disgusting because you realized that, god, maybe you wanted him to want you— even if you didn’t want him. Because you certainly didn’t want him. Or maybe some part of you did- but either way - you didn’t want him like this. You couldn’t deny that he was attractive, but it was something else. Something more that you couldn’t identify and fought desperately to ignore. And you couldn’t deny that you wanted to be attractive to him, which you evidently weren’t, but even still, the last thing you wanted was to have your virginity stolen from you.

His grip on your hips tightened and you couldn’t help the pained whimper that escaped you. He was strong, that he had already proven by lifting you and moving you without so much as breaking a sweat, but as his hands tightened around you, it was even more evident. There was no way you were getting out of this situation unscathed. Physically and emotionally speaking. You could feel the bruises forming already. Suddenly, his grip fell to the backs of your thighs as he pulled you up and you let out a shriek as you clung to his shoulders and allowed yourself to fall forward into his hold so you wouldn’t fall backwards.

His head was in your chest and he started to lick and kiss at you while he walked toward the bed. He placed you down and shoved you back once you were sitting on the mattress and pulled your panties down your thick legs as his fingers ghosted your skin.

“As fun as it would be to see you squirming for me, I don’t really have the time or patience for foreplay today,” he grunted out. As your eyes trailed down his body, you were met with the sight of him freeing his erection from his boxers as he removed them completely. You were then reminded of the fact that this would probably hurt like hell and you had no real idea what you were in store for. You started panicking all over again. You squirmed your way further up the mattress and began babbling helplessly.

“Please, please don’t do this. Just - wait, please, please!” you cried as he crawled on top of you. “Please, I can’t do this, I can’t, I can’t please,” you continued to babble.

He cooed and shushed you as his hands began trailing your body once more. His touch was so soft and almost caring. You thought if you closed your eyes tightly enough you’d be able to imagine that this foreign touch was that of a lover’s. One of someone who cared for you and your body. Not someone who was touching and taking you with force for any reason other than - what? - idiotic principles?

This isn’t fair, you thought. I don’t deserve this. But you couldn’t voice it out loud, you just let your tears fall as you continued to mumble in despair. Bucky’s lips found your neck and he began to lavish kisses on you. You were almost distracted enough by that to not notice his hand reaching lower and beginning to rub you, but not distracted enough. You were surprised though, to feel what he felt. You were wet with your arousal and you could feel him smirking against your neck, but were thankful that he didn’t say anything about it. He ran his finger through your slit, up to your clit where he began to rub small circles around the bundle of nerves. It truly felt like nothing you had ever experienced before. With his free hand, he lined himself up to your entrance as you pleaded once again, “No, no, no, you don’t understand, please, don-” and then all at once, you felt him thrust into you and you let out a guttural, pained cry at the intrusion while he groaned at the pleasure of being inside your previously untouched hole. His head fell to your neck and he panted as he stayed still inside of you while you whined. You didn’t realize what he was doing at first, why he was just staying still, but soon gathered that he was allowing you time to adjust to him. He then moved out of you and gave an experimental thrust back in. You couldn’t help the pathetic moan that escaped you and he decided to take that as a sign to continue his movements.

“See, it’s not all that bad, is it? I’m just as surprised as you, sweetness,” he spoke through grit teeth as he moved his thick cock in and out of you.

“Fuck, didn’t think you’d be this good. Thought it’d take me longer to get hard with you, but damn if those little pleading whimpers didn’t turn me on.” He continued while you tried to focus on the music that was still playing from the living room. Anything to drown out his words. You didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear him. Or yourself as you clenched your jaw and tried to suppress your sounds of forced pleasure.

“That’s it, take it. Take it like the good girl you pretend to be. I can see right through you, sweetheart. You can deny it all you want, but you and I both know the truth. This is what you’ve been needing, isn’t it? A fat cock stuffing your tight pussy full. Uh, fuck,” he groaned out, “you’re not as innocent as you seem, are you pretty girl?” he asked as his hands found your neck and added the perfect amount of pressure as he continued thrusting in and out of you at an intense pace, “just another whore getting ruined on my cock. Ruined just for me, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You shook beneath him as you were brought closer and closer to your climax. “So goddamn tight. S’like your pussy doesn’t wanna let me go,” he continued his taunting as you tried to fight off, to resist the pleasure that was coursing through you, but you couldn’t keep yourself from heading straight into your orgasm, even at the words he spoke.

“I could keep you full of me all night long,” he whispered in your ear. “You’re squeezing me so fuckin tight, baby, I’m gonna come,” he moaned. “Fuck, I’m gonna come inside you and your gonna take every last drop of my cum, aren’t you,” he said as he gripped your jaw and shook your face in his hands making you stare up at him as he lost himself and came inside of you. He squeezed your jaw again and forced your mouth open before he spit directly on your tongue. You shuddered and involuntarily your pussy clenched around him as you felt his saliva sliding down your throat, causing him to hiss at the feeling.

“Look at you, you can’t even help yourself, can you?” He laughed and then crashed his lips to yours hotly, sensually moving down to your neck before he laid himself down on top of your chest, crushing you slightly as you tried to regain control of yourself and your breathing, before pulling out of you.

“See, told ya I’d make it quick. Ah -“ he breathed and then slapped your thigh as he held himself up above you, “I’d love to stay and chat, maybe go for round two in a bit, but I got a date planned for later, and I can’t leave a beautiful woman hanging.”

“No offense,” he offered, “I mean, you’re pretty,” he smirked as his eyes met yours, “but you’re not really my type,” he said as he pinched your stomach before softly kissing your cheek and getting up from atop you. You just laid there with your mouth slightly parted, taking shallow breaths as you willed the tears threatening to start falling again away. You really couldn’t tell what hurt more- what did more damage. His actions or his words. You were in a state of shock as your eyes were fixed on your ceiling and you focused on the sound of Lana Del Rey’s “Pretty When You Cry” coming from the living room as Bucky got dressed beside your bed.

And then you heard your back door open and shut followed by the sound of a motorcycle coming to life. You realized Bucky must have gotten in through that same door. You willed yourself up and walked to every window and both doors making sure they were all shut and locked. You made your way to your bathroom and started the shower. You couldn’t even feel the water as you stepped in. It was like your body was moving without your mind actually being involved in the process. You washed yourself clean twice before you started to come back to yourself and scrubbed every inch of your body. It started to drive you mad after thirty minutes of washing trying to get the feeling of him off of you. It didn’t work. You could feel him every time you moved. You resigned yourself to sitting in the tub as the water ran down on you.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there. You wouldn’t have even been sure that what had happened had actually happened if it wasn’t for the painful reminders he left on your hips and the ache in between your legs. The memory of his hands on you made you twitch.

You finally pulled yourself out of your stupor and dried off. Walking to your dresser, you pulled out a pair of pajamas and got dressed. As you brushed through your wet hair in front of the mirror, you couldn’t look away from your own eyes. Accusatory, yet unsure. Still slightly puffy and glossy from the tears.

You returned to your bed and stripped it of its sheets and duvet. You didn’t have the energy to wash them so you left them in the hallway and walked across the house to the spare bedroom. You got on the bed and crawled up into a ball under the covers in hopes of finding some comfort in your own touch as you rocked yourself to sleep. It didn’t come easy. Every time you got close to falling asleep completely, Bucky’s face would appear, eyes drinking you in… and then you could hear his grunts and groans - feel him on top of you again and your eyes would fly open as your breathing faltered. It went on like that for hours until you finally faded to sleep. Bucky plaguing your restless dreams all the while.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ 9 months to fall in love 6.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov words; 7,430

warnings/includes (!) morning sickness, there’s a hug, I repeat a HUG, foot massages (or as Yuna calls them foot jobs 🤣), the sweet moments get ruined, Oc is feeling conflicted, things are taking an angsty and messy turn because of outside meddling, toxic co-worker, you might want to throttle Sera by the end if this chapter 

⟶ ao3 link

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’

↪︎ series index

SEASON ONE ⇤ previous | next ⇥

On Sunday you hung out with Yuna, who was majorly annoyed you had no baby photo to show her. She spent ten minutes attempting to make you invite Seokjin over with his, but you stood your ground. Even though it would have been nice to see him, you didn’t want to subject him to another Yuna meeting so soon after the last one. Too much of your best friend and he might want to run off again… (Joking, of course.) Instead, you messaged him to send over a picture, which appeased her – greatly. “See, they’re a glob shape!” she exclaimed excitedly, and even though you were inclined to agree, you still felt oddly defensive of your baby. “Baby shaped,” you corrected, and then proceeded to point out where everything was. She left a few hours later and you spent the rest of the day relaxing and basically doing nothing. Seokjin was busy so he didn’t have time to call you like he usually did in the evenings, but you messaged back and forth until you started to grow tired, deciding on an early night. 

The next morning you woke up with a start and rushed to the bathroom, not even having time to process the fact you were throwing up into the toilet until it was over. Shaking like a leaf, you slumped against the cold porcelain and wiped your mouth. Morning sickness had unfortunately caught up with you it seemed, and it was only Saturday that Dr. Choi had told you it might evade you altogether if you hadn’t suffered with it by now. Groaning, feeling sorry for yourself, you dragged yourself up and brushed your teeth and washed your face. Thankful you’d showered last night, you moved to your bedroom to get dressed. You still felt nauseous and worried this feeling might last throughout the day. You had a meeting with a client in the afternoon. 

You were just attempting to put some makeup on when your phone buzzed. A good morning text from Seokjin no doubt, and despite feeling like shit, you still smiled to yourself. With an abundance of sad faces, you let him know that you’d been sick, finally falling victim to morning sickness. A second later he was calling you. 

“Hello?” you picked up. 

“You were sick?” 

You chuckled weakly at the fact he’d totally forgotten any greeting at all. That, and he sounded wrought with worry. “Yes, but I’m fine. I mean, I still don’t feel too good, but I’m all right.” 

“You sure?” He sounded dubious. He also sounded as though he was using loudspeaker, and you guessed he was already driving to work. You hummed in assurance. He sighed. “And you’d been lucky so far…”

“Oh well,” you replied impassively, his concern making you feel awkward for some reason. To have someone think of you and worry about you felt strange. You mean, Yuna would most definitely do the same when she found out, but it was…different with Seokjin. You couldn’t explain it, nor did you really want to try.

“You hate being sick though.” 

You paused, a little surprised. That was true, and you had told him that before, but it was a shock to know he’d remembered. “I know,” you finally said, before adding: “But if I can handle sushi poisoning, I can handle morning sickness.” 

“Sushi poisoning?” he asked, sounding fondly bemused. 

“I ate sushi this one time and it made me sick,” you explained. 

“When?” 

“Oh, it was before we met… Well, it was actually right before we…you know…” You trailed off awkwardly. What were you trying to say exactly? And more importantly, why had you brought that up? “Actually, when I searched it online it said being sick might mess with how effective the pill is.” 

Oh God, and you were still going. 

“Oh.” There was a pause and then he laughed. “Glob was made because of some dodgy sushi? Surely not.” 

Dodgy sushi. That’s how you referred to it too. 

“I don’t think we’ll ever know how Glob was made for certain,” you replied casually, finding yourself unbothered. Which was strange because for days after you found out the news you’d obsessively used Google to try and find out how such an accident was possible. 

“Maybe it was just meant to be,” he said wistfully, and then cleared his throat. “Have you eaten anything this morning?” 

Struck a little funny by his words, you forced yourself to ignore them and answered his question. “I couldn’t stomach it.” 

“Try a little something. Dry toast?” 

“I’ll try,” you yielded, even though the thought made your stomach lurch. 

“Maybe you should call out of work?”

“No, I can’t do that.” Your co-workers might start getting suspicious. “It’ll pass.” You sounded as though you were trying to reassure yourself. 

“Do you want me to take you to work?” 

“No, it’s okay. I think l can manage the subway.” 

“Sure? I really don’t mind.” 

“I’m sure,” you smiled. 

If he was already on his way to work, you assumed it was for something important, so you didn’t want to make him late. 

“Hey,” you added suddenly. “Do you want to meet up for lunch?” Although, you had no idea how long this nausea would last…

Seokjin sighed regretfully. “I can’t today. I have an important meeting. I’m sorry—”

“No, don’t apologise. It’s fine,” you rushed in, feeling a little embarrassed. Even though you knew it wasn’t the case, you couldn’t help but feel rejected. “You’re a busy person.” 

He hummed, but still sounded apologetic. You wanted to reassure him further but found you couldn’t. 

“I should go,” was what you ended up coming out with. 

“Oh, sure,” he replied lightly. “I’ll check in on you later, but if anything happens in the meantime, let me know.”

You managed to smile at that. “Okay. Bye, Seokjin.” 

“Bye, ____.” 

Hanging up, you felt a little deflated, and now that there was no distraction of Seokjin’s voice, the sick feeling returned. 

Both feelings continued throughout the day, and it was hard to concentrate at work. You started to regret asking Seokjin out for lunch, which was foolish, but you rarely took the initiative to make plans, so to be told no (through no fault of Jin’s) affected you much deeper than it should. It was probably your hormones. They were all over the place lately. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were growing too attached to Seokjin’s presence. 

You didn’t need to see him every day – you didn’t really even need to speak to him every day, but you’d become so used to it, it seemed natural now. Ever since Saturday you were quietly waiting until the next time you saw him, and that made you kind of annoyed at yourself. You doubted Seokjin felt the same. He was just a good person and was trying to do right by his baby. You knew that he still felt guilty about leaving you at the hospital and being there for you was his way of putting things right. You appreciated it, but you were starting to think that relying on him too much would be a bad thing in the long run. 

You felt sick all through the morning and made sure to keep hydrated because the thought of food made you want to start gagging. (Maybe it was a good thing that Seokjin couldn’t make lunch.) Thankfully, no one picked up on your state. The office was working very quietly today, much to your pleasure, but every now and then you could feel eyes on you. Thinking you were paranoid at first, you ignored it, but after a few times, you looked up to spot Sera staring your way. She smiled at you as soon as she realised she had your attention, something mocking in it, or maybe by now everything that woman did seemed wicked to you. Ignoring her, you tried to concentrate and forget the fact you felt like you wanted to heave your guts up. 

At around eleven you had to rush to the bathroom and throw up once more, but graciously, after that the nausea subsided. Relieved, and after a small lunch in the office breakroom, you felt refreshed and ready for your meeting. It was through Zoom, so you didn’t have to worry about dashing off somewhere, which was a relief. The subway journey had been hell this morning. Yoongi helped you set up in the conference room because you were having trouble with your laptop. As he was leaning over you trying to sort it out, you found it amusing how being in such close contact did nothing to you anymore. A couple of months ago a situation like this would have stuck with you for a day or two, playing on your mind at night while you were trying to sleep. It struck you right then how much a silly crush no longer mattered now that you were pregnant, and you felt happy about that. As if you’d been set free of something rather silly and childish. 

Your phone started ringing then. It was face up on the desk and you looked over to see Seokjin’s name on the screen. You grabbed it and turned your head to glance at Yoongi. “Can I take this?” 

He was rather close to your face and for a split second his eyes fell to your mouth. Your lips were chapped to hell, so you didn’t blame him for noticing. “Sure,” he breathed, standing straight to let you slide out of the chair. You moved to the corner of the room, leaving Yoongi to continue playing about with your laptop. You picked up. 

“Hello?” 

You hadn’t been expecting him to call you this early on in the day. 

“Hi,” his soft voice filled your ear, and you could picture the gentle smile on his face as if he was right in front of you. “Are you feeling any better?” 

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling despite yourself, and despite your mass of thoughts earlier today. You looked over your shoulder, but Yoongi was back to concentrating on your laptop. 

“Were you sick again?” Seokjin sounded concerned. 

You hesitated, and kept your voice hushed, not wanting Yoongi to hear. “Yes, but I can’t really talk right now because I’m waiting to start a meeting.”

“Oh, shit. My bad.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll call later and tell you everything.” 

“About that… Wait, I’m not holding you up, right?” 

“No, I have a few minutes,” you told him softly, wondering what he had to say. 

“Okay, good.” You heard some noise in the background and then he spoke again, his pace quite fast. “How about I come over tonight? I can grab us food and we can—we can hang out.” 

You felt a weird flutter, and for a moment, all worry of growing too attached went out the door. 

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“A little.” 

You were still keeping your voice low, but what did it really matter if Yoongi overheard you? 

“So, what do you say?” Seokjin asked hopefully. 

You grinned. “All right, yeah, that sounds great.” 

“Yeah?” You could tell he was grinning too. 

“What time? Because I need to tidy up,” you admitted with a laugh. 

“I bet you don’t,” he laughed back, and then he teased: “Or are you secretly messy?” 

“No!” you shot, still laughing. 

He hummed disbelievingly. “Half 6? Maybe slightly later. Is that enough time?” 

“Should be,” you joked.

With a slight chuckle, he began to wrap the conversation up. “I’ll let you go now.” 

“Okay.” 

“Decide what you want to eat and let me know.” 

“Will do,” you nodded, now pulling the phone slightly away from your ear. “Bye.” 

“Bye, ____.” 

And then he hung up, leaving you smiling because you realised he always ended the calls with your name. Maybe it was some sort of business strategy he was used to doing that slipped through into his personal phone calls. Still, you liked it. 

When you turned around, the smile was still on your face, and you noticed Yoongi watching you. He quickly turned his attention back to your screen. “Everything’s ready now,” he said casually.

“Oh, great.” 

As you made your way over again, he took in your face. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, grinning almost bashfully. Yoongi didn’t sound concerned, just curious, and it was obvious he’d overheard a good portion of your conversation. You made yourself relax. He would never be able to conclude you were pregnant by that. 

His eyes narrowed, and then shrugged. “You looked a little peaky this morning.” 

Oh, so someone had noticed. 

“Did I?” You acted clueless. “It’s probably just that iron deficiency thing I have going on. I’m fine.” 

 Believing you, he changed the subject. “What did you get up to after you left on Saturday? Anything fun?” 

You blinked, processing his question. “Oh. Not really, I just went home and had a relaxing evening.” 

“Cool.” He folded his arms and you realised you were now both stood hovering in front of your laptop. “Any plans for tonight?” 

You’d had many a casual conversation with Yoongi, but this one struck you as blatantly forced. “I’m having food with a friend.”

“That guy you were with Saturday? Seokjin, was it?” Yoongi scratched his cheek, tone still casual but his gaze skittered across your face. 

“Yeah, him.” You tried not to frown, confused as to what was happening right now. Why did it feel like you were being interrogated? Talking to Yoongi never felt awkward, but right now you’d describe it as just that. “What about you? Any plans?” You pulled out your chair. 

“Nope,” he shook his head, moving to let you sit down. “Maybe I’ll ask if Sera wants to come over. Spend the night.” 

You had your back turned to him now and forced yourself to make a noise of… What exactly were you supposed to say to that? Sounds like my idea of hell, but each to their own? That would be incredibly uncalled for, and you weren’t that meanspirited anyway. 

“I better start getting ready. It’s nearly 3,” you said instead, glancing at the time on your phone.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” He cleared his throat and made for the door. 

You watched him go, nearly forgetting something. “Thanks for helping me, Yoongi.” 

He paused and gave you a small smile. “No problem.” 

.

.

You got home from work just after 6pm, brushing your teeth and getting changed into something comfortable. You didn’t really know when your bump would start to become visible – it was different for everyone – but by the way your jeans were becoming tighter by the day, you guessed it wouldn’t be long. You could hide it for a while, you owned quite a lot of loose-fitting clothes, but before long you’d have to start updating some of your wardrobe. At least at home you could wear the most ill-fitting sweats, but seeing as Seokjin was coming over, you chose something slightly more flattering. (As in, the dye hadn’t faded and there were no holes to be seen.) 

You had a quick clean up, making sure all your dishes were rinsed and your couch cushions were plumped and straight. It was stupid really, your home was perfectly acceptable, but you were very aware it was rather small, only a single storey. Seokjin probably lived in a lavish penthouse. You knew his address but had never bothered looking it up for fear of what you’d find. After some back and forth with yourself you decided to light a candle and placed it on the coffee table. 

Half an hour later, there was a knock at your door. Opening it, you found Seokjin still in his suit, a brown overcoat on top, and holding three shopping bags. You raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him. 

“I have supplies!” he exclaimed cheerfully. He turned to show you the paper bag he had hugged to his chest. “First of all, dinner.” Next, he lifted the two cloth bags he was holding in one hand. “Then, I did my research this morning and found the best remedies for morning sickness – supposedly.” 

Taken aback, you stood there for a moment, before he attempted to open one of the bags to show you. Forced into action, afraid he was going to drop the food, you waved your hands about. “Wait, come inside and then show me.” 

You tried to take the food from him, but he wouldn’t let you, so instead you led him inside. Through the living area and into the kitchen at the back. He placed the takeout bag down on the small table before beginning to open up the others eagerly. He took out a handwritten list and started to read from it. “The first remedy is ginger. In any form.” 

You watched with disbelief as he started pulling out items like some kind of Mary Poppins. Wait? Had he written that list? Oddly, you started to feel a little emotional. 

“I got ginger ale, ginger tea, and some type of lozenge capsule thing. Second: crackers!” He pulled out a tall box of wheat crackers. “Google said eat them in the morning before you get out of bed, so maybe keep them on your nightstand?” 

You nodded along, in complete shock. 

“Third: an acupressure wrist band. Even though it’s for motion sickness it apparently helps with pregnancy too. There’s instructions in the box. And last but not least,” – A giant bottle of what you guessed was some type of vitamin appeared – “Vitamin B6.” 

You stared at your countertop with wide eyes and then travelled to his face. “Can I use them all at once?”

He gave a small shrug. “I don’t see why not.” 

Lightly snorting, you gained his complete attention, and something dawned on him, his expression turning unsure. “Sorry. Am I being too much?”

“Not at all,” you smiled, shaking your head. You reached over and placed your hand on his arm. “Thank you, Seokjin.” 

He held your gaze and smiled back. “No problem. Oh, and before I forget—” He pulled something out of his inner coat pocket. 

It was a new copy of Glob’s scan. You felt a wave of emotion and before you knew it, you were hugging him. He was warm and smelled familiar, his hard body surprisingly comfortable. To be pressed up against it roused certain memories… You were so distracted that you didn’t even realise that Seokjin had frozen, but as soon as you felt him wrap his arms around you too, hugging you back, you jerked away. 

Why had you done that?! You weren’t a hugger! You despised it even when Yuna forced herself on you. So why had you become overwhelmed with the urge to wrap your arms around Seokjin’s waist and press your face against his chest?! 

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the nervous hammering of your heart and the way your face felt as though it was on fire. “Thank you,” you managed to smile tightly, taking the image of Glob from him. You looked down at it to distract yourself. 

“I couldn’t pick it up myself so I sent Hoseok.” Seokjin’s voice sounded mildly lower. 

You briefly looked up at him. “Tell the elusive Hoseok thank you, too.” 

“Will do.” Awkward silence seemed to stretch for a moment before he started up again. “Um, weird though. You didn’t leave the scan at the office. Maybe it slipped out of your purse and is under the seat of my car or something?” 

“Maybe,” you replied absentmindedly, still feeling distracted. “Take off your coat,” you told him, realising he was still in it. You moved to a cupboard. “I’ll get us plates. The food’ll get cold.” 

.

.

Thankfully, the hug soon got forgotten as you began eating and chatting about your days. Seokjin was still concerned about you, but once he saw that you were eating well, he eased up. Hopefully this morning sickness business would be just that – in the morning! You could cope with it if it only lasted a few hours and disappeared by the time you hit your second trimester, which wasn’t too far away now. Not to mention, fingers crossed, Seokjin’s well researched remedy list would be successful. You still couldn’t believe he had done that for you. You were starting to think maybe he wasn’t just trying to make up for his mistake. Maybe he really was just a generous and thoughtful person. Well, you knew that already, but it was nice to know he wasn’t doing these things just because he thought he had to. He wanted to do them, and it came natural to him.

After dinner, you moved to the couch, glad that he wasn’t leaving so soon. It was only around 8pm but tiredness soon started to wash over you, and your limbs felt heavy and stiff. For the past few days your breasts had been sore too, which was to be expected, but it was annoying, nonetheless. 

“I’m exhausted and my feet are killing me,” you moaned self-pityingly, lifting your feet up to fold your legs to the side of you. “I shouldn’t have worn those heels today.” 

“Give them here,” Seokjin surprised you by saying, holding his hands out. “Come on!” he urged when you didn’t move. 

You slowly complied, staring at him the entire time. Even as you stretched your legs out over his lap and he took your feet in his hands. You had socks on, thank the lord, but even so… This seemed a lot more intimate than the hug you’d given him earlier. 

“I won’t do anything weird,” he laughed, seeing the look on your face. “You’re not ticklish, are you?”

“Sometimes,” you replied slowly, and then attempted to pull your feet back, suddenly filled with panic. “Don’t tickle them.” 

“I won’t,” he laughed harder. “I was just checking. What do you take me for?” 

You didn’t reply because he’d started to gently massage your left foot. Your legs had been unnaturally stiff, but as he continued, you began to relax. Even settling back into the couch. 

“Better?” he murmured. 

You nodded, and then added: “You don’t have to do it though.” 

“Isn’t this what dads are supposed to do?” he countered. 

You felt the urge to correct him. This was what boyfriends or husbands were supposed to do, not a co-parent. But something held you back when he moved to your right foot. His grip was surprisingly good. 

“Before long you won’t be able to see your feet,” he commented casually. 

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned. 

“By then you might need other things massaged.” 

You burst out laughing. “Other things? Don’t you think you’ve massaged enough already?” Unable to stop yourself, the words were out before you knew it. You cringed. “Sorry, that made no sense.” Why were you alluding to the sex you’d had? And making terrible jokes at that? You needed to control yourself and think before you spoke. 

“I mean, it sort of did,” he chuckled. 

Easing up, you lapsed into comfortable silence, Jin’s hands working their way up to your calves. You clamped your tongue to the roof of your mouth in a bid not to make any agreeable sounds, but it really did feel amazing. 

“I should probably be doing this to you,” you said after a while. There went thinking before you spoke! Seokjin looked up in question. “You’re always so busy and now you’re running around after me,” you explained hurriedly. 

He stared at you, frowning slightly. “It’s not a chore, ____,” he said, voice soft. “You’re carrying our baby and I want to look after you.” 

Smiling, you shut your eyes and relaxed further into the couch. Like you’d guessed, he was doing this because he wanted to. 

“But, I won’t pass on a foot rub if you want to give me one so bad.” 

Seokjin’s tone was light and teasing, making your eyes snap open. He was grinning as he came into focus, and you kicked out one foot, jabbing him in the thigh. It made him laugh so loud you actually jumped. 

.

.

He left at around 9 – after insisting on doing the dishes. Watching him at your sink in a dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows wearing pink rubber gloves was…something else. Pair that with the foot massage, and maybe you could get used to this… He offered to take you home after work tomorrow, and you happily accepted, waving him goodbye as he drove off. 

No sooner had he gone, you quickly changed into your pyjamas and got into bed. You needed to finish the book you’d started last week. 

Usually, it was the lines blurring into one another as you gradually dropped off that distracted you, but tonight it was your racing mind. For some reason you couldn’t stop thinking about this evening and how it had gone. Things had been different between you, to say the least. 

This had been your first time alone alone. If that made sense. Meeting up for lunch or going for dinner, even attending the prenatal appointment, all those things were done in the vicinity of other people. Almost as though a bunch of strangers had been your buffer. Just the two of you, alone inside your home had felt different. Some sort of uncharted territory you hadn’t been expecting to drift into. It had felt natural at the time, but now you were just going through the events of tonight in your head. Over and over again. 

Why the fuck had you hugged him? And foot massages?! 

And then you thought of all the things he’d bought you, just to help with your morning sickness… He’d actually used a portion of his time (however small, it did not matter) to search online and make a list. Maybe the bar was low, but to you that was incredibly thoughtful of him. He was busy, had his own life, and yet, he still made time for you. He still made time to look after you and check if you were okay. 

Save for Yuna, there weren’t that many people who looked out for you with their entire heart anymore. Not that you needed that, or even wanted it, but it still felt…nice to have it. However, at the same time, you felt foolish for even thinking it. 

Right as you came to that conclusion, your phone buzzed, and when you checked, it was a message from Seokjin. 

Seokjin 10:04pm  Goodnight to you and Glob 🤍 Remember your remedies tomorrow!  

Reading it, your chest grew uncomfortably warm and tight. 

Once again, you had the foreboding feeling that you were growing too attached to him. It was okay to enjoy Seokjin being there for you, but it also meant you would soon grow to expect it. And he couldn’t be there for you forever. Once Glob was born, his attentions would move to them, and rightfully so, but after the birth, you would effectively become nothing to him. Just the mother of his child. 

And not only that, but in the future, he would meet someone, probably start a family with them, and then what? Your child would be left feeling like…feeling like you once did? Even as you thought such a thing, you got angry at yourself. Hadn’t Seokjin already promised that wouldn’t happen? 

You were getting ahead of yourself, your worries cascading and turning irrational. So much for not overthinking. In less than sixty seconds you’d just successfully given Seokjin a hypothetical spouse and multiple children, while you and Glob were left neglected and unloved in the corner. 

Your situation now was nothing like your parents’ situation when you were younger. Your parents couldn’t stand one another towards the end of their marriage, while Seokjin and you had a very amicable relationship. For now… a little voice said in the back of your mind. 

With a long sigh, you forced yourself to stop thinking, and rolled over, shutting your eyes. You could almost guarantee Seokjin wasn’t keeping himself up at night thinking similar things, so why should you? And anyway, you needed to fall asleep, because fortunately for you, you needed to wake up in the morning and throw up! 

“HE GAVE YOU A WHAT?!”

You winced at Yuna’s volume, holding your phone away from your ear as you stepped off the subway and followed the tide of fellow commuters. 

“You heard me!” 

As expected, this morning you’d been sick. However, it hadn’t been as sudden as yesterday. You’d woken up before your alarm feeling nauseous, but at least your mind was clearer than the night before. You didn’t know what had happened last night, but your thoughts were back to complete rationality – or, as rational as they could be considering the circumstances. There was still a lot going on, but you were trying your best to adjust. Yesterday had thrown you, that was all, but you weren’t deterred. This thing with Seokjin was going well – better than you could have ever imagined. 

Forcing a dry cracker down, you’d gotten out of bed ready to shower but as soon as your eyes had seen the toilet, your stomach decided it wanted a piece of the action. It wasn’t as bad as last time, though maybe you were just growing used to it. Before you left for work, you remembered to take a vitamin and dropped the ginger tea into your purse. You’d called Yuna while on the subway, but now you were regretting it. 

“He gave you a foot job?!”  

“A foot massage, Yuna,” you said in a deliberately slow voice. “A massage. How would he give me a foot job?! 

It could only be the other way around, surely! Before your thoughts ran away with you, you mentally shook your head. You didn’t want to think about giving Jin any kind of ‘job’ and that was final, you told yourself. 

“Sorry, it was a Freudian slip.” 

How could that possibly be the case?! 

She continued on in astonishment. “Jimin doesn’t even do that for me, and we’ve been together for two and a half years.” 

“You’re not pregnant,” you pointed out, finally free of the hordes of people. You picked up your pace, it was another few minutes’ walk to work. 

Yuna was quiet on the other end of the call – suspiciously quiet. “Yuna?” you pressed. 

“____, you’re not going to like this, but…” 

“But what?” 

You were still feeling queasy, and her reluctant tone wasn’t helping. 

There was a beat of silence and then—

“I think he luuuvveess you.” 

Relief washed over you and you rolled your eyes. She was an idiot and had freaked you out for no reason! “Yuna, shut up.” 

“Okay, maybe not love,” she backtracked quickly, “but he definitely likes you. Why else would he touch your freaky looking feet?” 

You gasped. “They’re not freaky looking! And he doesn’t like me. I think I’d know if he did.” 

“A man with zero feelings for someone doesn’t just casually start touching that said someone’s feet,” she responded smartly. 

“I had socks on – fluffy ones!” you exclaimed, gaining a look from a passer-by. You hushed your voice. “And I’m—”

“Don’t use the pregnancy excuse. Your feet have nothing to do with being pregnant.” 

“They do!” But even you didn’t sound very convinced. “Look, I have to go. I’m nearly at the office.”

“Whatever, you’re just trying to escape this conversation.” 

“Am not. I’m literally about to walk through the doors.” 

You weren’t lying. You stopped just in front of them, waiting for her to say goodbye. 

“Ugh, fine,” she huffed. “Bye, talk to you soon, and I hope Seokjin gives you another massage tonight. Maybeitwillbeinanewplace—” 

“GOODBYE,” you yelled and hung up promptly, not wanting to listen to anymore. At the same time you sensed something behind you and turned around to see Yoongi and Sera hand in hand. 

“Hey. Morning,” you said awkwardly, giving them a quick smile before you headed through the doors. You took the stairs, not wanting to be stuck inside the elevator with them. 

.

.

The morning went by quite peacefully and your ginger tea seemed to work because you didn’t throw up again and come mid-morning the nausea had worn off completely. You texted Seokjin to let him know his remedies had worked and his hard work was much appreciated. His response was as modest as ever, despite the fact he must have known you were slightly teasing him. Not that you weren’t thankful of course. 

An hour before your lunchbreak, a very unwanted presence hovered in front of your desk. 

You looked up at Sera, waiting for her to speak as you tried to mask your irritation. 

“Do you want to go and get lunch with me today?” she finally asked, her tone friendly, but you saw straight through it. 

Shocked, you quickly collected yourself. “I’m pretty busy with this so I think I might just skip today.” You tried to answer as calmly as possible, but inside you were baffled by what was going on. You had the ominous feeling she was up to something. You just didn’t know what. 

She stared at you, a smile on her face. “There’s no need to make excuses, ____. Just say it. You don’t want to have lunch with me.” 

You tried to keep your eyes from widening, surprised she’d seemingly gone there. It was all pretence with her, so for her to confront you like this was…strange. You swallowed and looked around. Nobody was paying attention to the both of you. 

Turning back, you gave her a bored shrug. “Fine. I don’t want to have lunch with you.” 

You watched her nostrils flare, her expression darkening, and had to supress a smile. She hadn’t been expecting you to actually do it. You wanted to add more. To tell her you didn’t like her and how much her existence irritated you, but didn’t. You would be just as bad as her then – and something told you she already knew how you felt anyway…

“Suit yourself,” she replied, staring daggers at you. She turned, and you were about to take a breath of relief when she flew back around. “Oh, by the way,” – she pulled something out of her blazer –  “You left this at that restaurant on Saturday.”

To your horror she placed your sonogram on the desk. The one you’d misplaced. You instinctively reached for it, covering it with your hand to slide it back to you. Looking around again, hoping no one had noticed, you felt your heart racing inside your chest. You were angry, but more than that, you were upset. 

You stared at her indignantly, your jaw clenched. She wouldn’t see you cry. 

“So, where do you want to eat?” she grinned almost deviously. 

.

.

A short while later you found yourself in the quietest corner of a sandwich bar a short walk away from Artkive’s building. You didn’t feel hungry in the slightest but knew you had to eat something for Glob’s sake. Your bagel tasted like cardboard though, a new sick feeling in your stomach that was down to dread. Sera sat opposite you calmly, but it was obvious she was waiting for you to freak-out. You wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, you waited for her to speak first. 

When she realised you weren’t going to budge, she finally did so. 

“Pregnant,” she laughed. “I can’t believe it.” 

You took a deep breath, urging yourself to cool down. Your hands were shaking – partly with the need to throttle her. 

“Does Yoongi know?” 

As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted them, knowing they could be perceived wrongly. You just wanted to know which one of them had found the scan? You thought of yesterday, Yoongi’s odd behaviour and how awkward it had been between the two of you. Yet, if he knew, why would he let his girlfriend do this to you right now? It went against everything you thought you knew about him. 

“Not yet,” Sera admitted, but she looked annoyed that you’d brought him up. 

You felt mild relief, but that didn’t last long. “You can’t tell him – You can’t tell anyone.” Embarrassingly, you were pleading with her, but it had to be done. “It’s still early.” 

She seemed unperturbed. “9 weeks.” 

“Right.” How long had she studied the damn photo?!

After a brief pause, she smirked. “I’m surprised, ____. I didn’t think you had such expensive taste in men.” 

Your breath hitched, and you listened in horror as she continued. 

“Kim Seokjin. CEO of one of the biggest gaming companies in the country.” 

“How do you know who he is,” you demanded quietly. 

“My brother worked there for a while,” she shrugged. “I never forget a face that handsome.” 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond! It was taking you everything to control yourself. 

“How did you manage it?” she asked in disbelief. “How do you even know him?” 

Fresh anger flared inside your body, and you clenched your teeth. “We’re just friends.” 

“But he’s the father,” she said matter-of-factly. 

You hesitated, but there was no point trying to deny it. You didn’t want to deny it. You just hadn’t wanted the news to be shared like this. “Yes,” you breathed finally. 

Something flickered in Sera’s eyes, distrust, or maybe it was rage.  “Are you sure about that?” 

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Her voice was stretched tight as she spoke. “If I find out there’s even the slightest possibility it may be Yoongi’s, I—” 

“You’re crazy,” you cut her off, unable to believe your ears. “You’ve actually lost it. How can you possibly think that?!”

Furious now, you were finding it hard to keep your voice down. Your outburst triggered a couple of curious glances your way, and you tried your best to stay calm, breathing slowly. 

“I know you like him,” she shot. 

“No, I don’t.” Your reply was sudden and firm. “Not in the way your warped mind believes.” 

What was she accusing you of exactly? Sleeping with Yoongi behind her back? It was so absurd you wanted to laugh, but then you remembered the gravity of the situation. She – and her twisted imagination – had the ability to ruin everything. 

“Seokjin is—” You stopped yourself, knowing you shouldn’t bother. “You know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you, Sera.” You stood up, your chair almost flying backwards with the force. “I’m leaving, and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t tell anyone about this.” 

In hindsight, perhaps ‘this’ wasn’t the best use of word. It just made you look guilty in her eyes. But you couldn’t face the entire sandwich bar knowing you were pregnant. You could already feel the stares, but reminded yourself it didn’t matter because they were strangers. 

Sera just glared at you in response, a glint in her eyes that taunted you. You had never felt so angry in your entire life, you were trembling all over. It took you everything you had not to grab hold of her. Instead, you leaned in close, keeping your voice quiet but deadly. 

“I swear to God if you do, you’ll regret it. I mean it.” 

She scoffed, but you could tell by the way her eyes quivered, you had frightened her. You took great pleasure in it. She had prodded and pressed you continuously over the weeks, but this was a step too far. She was involving your baby, and like hell would you stand for it. 

“Do I make myself clear?” you asked slowly, only breathing out when you saw her give the tiniest of nods. 

You grabbed your purse and made for the door. 

.

.

The rest of the day went by painfully slow. You managed to avoid Sera the entire afternoon, not daring to look in her direction because you knew if you did that would be it. You were so enraged and hurt it felt overwhelming, as though you were about to explode any second and lose control. You were so highly strung your body felt tense, every bone and muscle aching. 

When it was time to leave the office, you grabbed your things and left immediately, not bothering to say your goodbyes to anyone. It had been a mistake letting Seokjin pick you up from work. What had you been thinking? Hurtling down the stairs and through the doors, you rushed to the parking lot, beating everyone else there. Thankfully he was there waiting for you as timely as ever. But even though you wanted to smile, it didn’t happen. Sera had ruined your mood, and every good thing that had happened these past few weeks, in an instant. 

Seokjin beamed at you as you opened the door of his car and climbed in. “Good day?” 

“Yup,” you answered abruptly, not wanting to waste time on small talk. Even now, some of your co-workers were appearing and making their way to their cars. Yoongi and Sera would be here soon. 

“How are you feeling? Were you sick at work?” 

You shook your head. “Not today. Can we leave now?” 

Seokjin looked at you in surprise, and you realised how impatient you’d sounded. You opened your mouth to say sorry, but he was already starting the car up. “Sure,” he murmured. 

As you started to drive off, you spotted Yoongi and Sera arm and arm on the sidewalk. You stared straight ahead. 

“Wasn’t that, uh… Sera and Yoongi?” Seokjin asked, pausing to remember their names. You were annoyed at him in that moment for being so dedicated. Did he have to remember every little thing you told him? Every person you introduced him to? You knew you were being unreasonable, but you couldn’t stop.   

“I didn’t see,” you answered, trying to sound oblivious. 

“Yoongi waved.” 

You didn’t respond. 

The entire journey was made in silence. You just wanted to go home and be alone, to seethe in peace. When Seokjin pulled up outside your house, he turned to you, looking worried. “Are you feeling all right?” 

You felt a pang inside your chest. Guilt obviously. You attempted to keep your tone light. “Yeah, why?” 

“You just seem a little…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “Is everything okay?” 

For a split second you imagined telling him everything, but then you realised that would be a mistake. He hardly knew you or your life. If you told him someone questioned the paternity of your baby, what’s to say it wouldn’t plant a seed of doubt into his own mind? Especially if he knew how you once felt – or did feel – about Yoongi. You couldn’t risk that. You couldn’t risk losing everything you’d started to build. 

No, you could handle Sera on your own, and soon enough you’d be able to tell the entire office. She wouldn’t hold the news over your head for long. You’d even do it earlier if needs be. Anything for her not to have the upper hand. 

“I’m just tired. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he told you softly. You felt another pang. “Do you want me to come inside? Are you feeling hungry? I can make you something, or we can order out?” 

You shook your head and forced yourself to give him a smile. “You go home, it’s fine.”

“You sure?” he asked, and you nodded. “I can’t make lunch tomorrow either, but I can pick you up.” 

“No, it’s okay.”

You couldn’t have a repeat of today. You didn’t want to risk any questions from co-workers who had seen him, or worse, give Sera anymore motivation. 

“It’s really no trouble.” 

“Seokjin, you’re busy too. You have your own life, so don’t put yourself out.” 

As much as you appreciated his help and consideration, you couldn’t take advantage of it. He was no doubt 100% busier than you. It was a wonder throwing a pregnant woman into the mix hadn’t broken him. 

He frowned. “I’m not. I want to do it.” 

His persistence annoyed you slightly, your patience already worn thin after today. “Jin,” you sighed, then caught yourself. You reached for his arm and give it a grateful squeeze. “Thanks for the ride. Speak to you soon.” 

You opened the door and stepped out, not looking back as you walked towards your house. 

“All right. Bye, ____,” you heard him say, and suddenly you wanted to cry. 

You waited until you were safely inside to do so, the stress of this afternoon finally beating you. 

Written 2022. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2022

[kira-fluff]

Heeey!

Saeyoung, Yoosung, Jumin and Zen reacting to to “hotel only one bed” trope ? ♥️

a/n: of course you can lovely! <3 *AHEM* Lemme just say this trope is ELITE and I will NEVER not love it // also, i’m writing it like it’s before they’re dating (OF COURSE) because I want it to be spicy (actually that’s the only thing that would make sense for this prompt but you get my point whatever). ALSO also I’m basing the fancy hotel off my stay at the Ritz Carlton (it was like $25,000 a night) because my grandma couldn’t manage money N E WAYSS. Also, if y’all could let me know whether you prefer Y/N to MC pls lmk k thx 

TW: drunk old lady w/no filter, gets pretty suggestive because I couldn’t help myself, an overbearing aunt, savage Italians, and loud hotel neighbor 

Note: omfg i accidentally made this so long oh well here’s yo present lmao 

“There’s only one bed” PT.1 PT.2

- 

Saeyoung 

Getaway missions are mad cool until you can’t sleep 

When you finally neared the parking entrance to your hotel you were SO looking forward to taking a nice hot shower before shimming into the covers of your crisp, (clean, you hoped) sheets. 

It was past 3AM when Saeyoung finally drove his elegant vehicular device (because what other word is there for it) into a secured parking space 

“Because I don’t trust those shady valets, y/n.” 

“Whatever you say, Seven”, you replied groggily. 

You hauled ass up to the front desk, then to the elevator of the exquisite hotel you were staying at

not that you cared 

because S L E E P 

but Saeyoung likes to quote Jurassic Park (because of course he does) like “I spare no expense, y/n” 

“I’m too tired to laugh” 

*gASP* 

“Not everyone naturally stays up until the early morning light before going to sleep.” 

“It really should become a thing, it’s honestly very iconic of me.” (it’s not)

By the time your conversation ended you were glad to see your hotel number and a little key card slot. 

Saeyoung made a show of sticking the key card in like a spy or something 

it was funny for normal y/n but not for tired y/n 

“Here’s your room, M’lady.” 

He held the door open to your room as you looked around the room 

a large, lush bed set before a ginormous flat screen TV with complimentary expensive chocolates laid before you as well as complimentary take-home elegant towels and slippers. 

suddenly, you heard a knock on the door 

blinking in confusion, you opened to see it was Saeyoung 

“Um.. hey! What’s up?” 

Saeyoung looked a bit bewildered himself before saying, 

“Hey, so, I realized my key card was the same room number as yours and I was like ‘That’s weird!’ so I called the front desk who verified that I had placed a reservation for one room, not two, so I hacked into their system to see what went wrong and if I could change it but it looks like they’re completely booked and I think I had made the reservation before I knew that you had to come along and I’m so sorry” 

he was breathless after the mouthful he just gave you 

As it was 3AM a drunk, old woman was tripping her way to her room and shouted much louder than she should at 3AM, “Kiss her already n’ fuck, ya youngin’s!” 

Saeyoung’s hair now matched his face :) 

His ears were tipped bright red before coughing awkwardly 

“I can sleep on the ground. I’ve done it plenty of times, it’s actually pretty comfy.” 

“Um, Sev’ I’m not going to make you just sleep on the floor. If you want--” 

“You’re not making me, y/n, I want to do this” 

“Actually I think I’ll sleep on the floor, I sleep a lot better on the ground”, you fibbed. 

“You’re sleeping on that big ass bed.” 

“No you are.” 

“If you don’t listen I’ll sleep in the bath tub instead of the floor.” 

“Then I’LL sleep outside the room!” 

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!” 

“WATCH ME” 

the phone rang, a worker politely asking you to quiet a bit down because even with your luxurious privacy walls, guests could still hear you arguing. 

Saeyoung began whisper shouting, “Guess that settles it.” 

he plopped on the ground, fake snoring with his arm as a pillow

you sighed 

“Fine, if neither of us are going to agree to this then we are both going to sleep in this bed.” 

Saeyoung blushed lightly at your boldness, a tad worried you’d find him creepy or weird

You started again, beginning to undress a little, causing Seven to yelp in panic and turn around immediately, shielding his eyes,

Now in your tank top and your leggings you’d been wearing under sweatpants and a t-shirt, you said, “I’m gonna go take a quick shower and go to bed. I’m so tired.” 

Seven turned around only when he’d heard the bathroom door shut 

he sighed, What am I going to do with this girl. 

By the time you’d come out of the bathroom, drying your wet hair, Seven was lying on the bed, clad in casual t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come on, Saeyoung, you have comfy clothes! It’s okay, change! I’m done in the bathroom now.” 

“Nah, this is fine.” This was not fine. Saeyoung was out of his area of expertise of expecting the unexpected because God you were so unpredictable. 

“Please” you jutted out your bottom lip in a little pout, being sure to make eye contact with him 

Something glowered in his eyes for a split second before he half-smiled saying, “Ah, little Y/n, you know I can’t say no to you when you go all sad on me.” 

He stepped into the bathroom to change, but let’s be honest. He was freaking the fuck out. 

he covered his flushed face, changing into his soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt. he was scared 

the more comfortable he became the more likely he’d accidentally get closer to you and then you’d freak out because you’d hear the sound of his heart beat like it’s a fucking rave concert and then you’d be weirded forever and quite possibly never talk to him again

but on the outside, he stepped out of the bathroom, whipping his phone out with a huge smirk saying, “Smile” 

you threw up a peace sign with your tongue sticking out 

he laughed before sending it to the RFA chat 

707: Sleepover lolol [see attachment]

immediately both your phones blew up with buzzes of notifications from the chat 

you laughed lightly, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck it behind your ear 

this was gonna be a long night for Seven. 

Zen: UGH get away from her!!!!!!!!!111!!1!!

Jumin: Maybe you should learn to type first. 

Zen: shut it cat freak

Zen: seven answer 

Zen: hey 

Zen: y/n, text “qwerty” if you’re in any kind of danger 

Jumin: What a strange code. 

You: qwerty :(

707: lololololol

Zen: !!!!!

Zen: ASJDHKJFASHFKJA 

Jumin: -_- 

Zen: WE NEED A CAR, NO A HELICOPTER im omw!! 

You: just kidding <3 i’m fine you guys 

707: lololol 

Jumin: Have a bit more faith in your subordinates, Zen. 

You closed the chat and muted your phone, expecting the incoming argument that was quickly to ensue. 

You patted the bed lightly, ushering Saeyoung to lie down next to you. 

He obliged, though he politely laid at the far edge of the left side of the bed. 

You yawned before shutting the light off and whispering a “good night”. 

Saeyoung glanced at the clock. 4AM. Only 15 minutes had passed. You were breathing softly in your sleep within the 10 minutes after you’d said goodnight and here he was still awake. 

You suddenly tousled in your sleep, and Saeyoung raised his head, whispering a soft, “Did I wake you up?” 

You replied with a soft moan before abruptly turning left onto his corner of the bed and grabbing for the first thing you’d felt -- his torso. 

Saeyoung’s breath hitched as he felt you exploring the new found “object”, running your fingers up and down his torso and nearing dangerous areas below 

Saeyoung whisper-shouted, “What are you doing?” 

He leaned closer to hear your reply, but your only answer was more soft little snores 

Saeyoung sighed, trying to lightly grab your wrists without waking you up, and directing toward yourself

no matter how hard he’d try, your arms kept finding his own

your nails would softly ghost over his chest or neck, causing him to shiver and blush profusely 

again, he sighed, trying his hardest not to give into your sleepy state 

until you broke him with a soft utterance, “Sae....young..” 

Saeyoung’s eyes widened to the size of saucers before he dared to look down at you, your hair curling on the bed every which-way.. your mouth slightly agap... 

he groaned, his brows furrowed and his eyes shut

at last he slunk his arms around your torso, being sure to respectfully keep them high around your waist 

he buried his face in the crook of your neck to subconsciously try to hide his ever growing blush (and erection) 

I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this ‘friend’ thing when you’re driving me this crazy, y/n.

You awoke to a sleeping Saeyoung, his toned arms enveloping your small body in a hug

shamelessly, you laid still for a few moments longer. 

Yoosung 

this bean is lonely uwu

so when he’d invited to you go with him on a trip his uncle had paid for, you felt bad saying “yes” because it’s a paid trip!! 

until he begged you because his cousin Chaewon would be there and he was always really pushy and borderline a huge fuck boi 

so you conceded 

but hey free trip for the both of you minus shitty family gatherings with no one you know, right?! 

you hope there’s at least one dog. and alcohol. 

dog + alcohol at a party = an actual fun fucking time 

you were glad Yoosung was there with you because he honestly couldn’t agree with you more 

You opened your beach-side resort room to find there’s only one bed. 

Yoosung blanched and quickly dialed his auntie, who’d made the resort reservations

“Ah...hi auntie! Um, how come there isn’t a separate room for me and y/n?” 

his aunt cackled into the phone, “Aren’t you an old fashioned little gentlemen!!! Awe~~~ you’ve grown up to be such a good boy! <3 Well don’t worry, I won’t say a word to my sister or your pops. Enjoy the time you have with your adorable girlfriend and get it on a little!! I’ve got condoms if ya need ‘em honey~~ Remember dearie, when the shlong is not covered, the child support better be.” 

Yoosung hurriedly hung up the phone, his face completely red, praying you hadn’t heard the conversation that’d just ensued. 

You did 

but you smile and say, “So.. what’d they say?” 

He cleared his throat before saying, “Well, --err.. Basically there’s been a little mishap. B-but don’t worry!! I can just ask Chaewon if I can spend the night in his room.” 

“Didn’t you say he leaves a sock on the door handle every time--”

“YES but I want you to be comfortable, okay! It’s really not a big deal.” 

You shyly smiled while looking down before softly saying, “You can sleep with me.” 

Yoosung’s eyes widened and you quickly looked up, your face flushing to a deep crimson 

“I-I-I meant in the bed!!! With me. We can lie together. In the bed---- I mean we--” 

Yoosung could practically see the steam coming out of your ears and the room felt a LOT hotter 

“S-sure! Sounds great.” he had a feeling if you didn’t agree you’d end up embarrassing yourself further.. and he didn’t want you to feel bad. And he didn’t want those thoughts circulating his mind again. 

“Alright, so I’m going to hop in the shower, y/n... unless you want to go first?”

Gulping down some complimentary water you’d found in the hotel mini fridge, you quickly replied with a shake of your head. 

Nodding, Yoosung make quick work of washing his hair and trying to give himself a pep talk before he would be sleeping next to you. 

Thankful for the big size of the resort bed, you climbed under the covers, already beginning to feel sleep take you 

When Yoosung had at last dried himself off and walked out to the bed area of the resort room, he gazed at how small you looked, hugging a soft pillow in your arms, your eyes fluttered shut 

He looked away, feeling like a creep. 

He shut off the light after making a call to the resort staff to wake him up at 8AM as directed by his uncle’s itinerary

He slid under the covers, shoving a pillow in between the two of you as a little border to separate the two of you 

it wasn’t until further in the night when Yoosung had felt a jolt and he looked up in panic, through the blackness recognizing the pillow-border had been cast onto the ground 

and even more noticeably, your leg was swung over his hip, your body flush to his own 

your arms were snaked around his neck

he felt like he could feel every inch of you

your soft breath just below his ear 

your soft .. er.. chest... against his torso 

your stomach and .. the rest of it... against his own 

Yoosung could not breathe

like someone actually help this man for he is losing oxygen by the minute 

He squeezed his eyes shut and make the executive decision to wait it out til morning 

he was terrified that if he’d move you, you’d wake up and see just how much you affect him. 

And so, when the phone rang that morning, you’d startled, looking up to see your tangled limbs lying on top of his own

“oH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY YOOSUNG UGH IT’S A HABIT OF MINE AHAHHSAHDAJSHS” 

he looked at you with eyes that had noticeable circles under them (darker than even after his LOLOL gaming) 

“you look like you didn’t sleep much.... --- Is it because of me!? Oh my god I’m so sorry you should’ve just shoved me off or something seriously I didn’t mean to do it on purpose, honest!!” 

“N-no, no it’s really not!! I promise!!” He tried his best to grin, though it probably looked like a grimace, because the next thing you said was, “I’ll make it up to you” 

“You don’t need to do that. Really, I liked it.” 

It took a moment for him to realize what he just said. 

“I-I mean I like you! I mean I liked sleeping with you!!! I mean--!!” 

Yoosung was quickly spinning circles in his mind 

you couldn’t help the little giggle that came out of your mouth, “I guess we’re pretty similar, huh?” 

Yoosung smiled lightly, “Yeah, guess so.” 

You walked out together toward the breakfast area of the resort

“Hey”, you started, “Is.. Did you mean what you said? About liking me?” 

Yoosung glanced away, taking a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, yeah I did. I really like you.” 

You couldn’t hold back the big ol’ smile that took over your face as you proudly declared, “Me too!!” 

Right when Yoosung was going to go in for a kiss, he saw his auntie suddenly right next to the both of you 

“Oh my GOD when did you get here?!” 

She smirked, “My question first, dearie, what did you two like?” 

Neither of you answered, your cheeks growing red 

“You know, the first time your uncle did it with me I felt the same way. Like, what a man! Must run in the fam--” 

“OKAY! THANK YOU FOR THAT AUNTIE BUT BREAKFAST IS CALLING MY NAME MM SMELLS GOOD SEE YOU LATER.” 

Your blush didn’t leave you as you smeared strawberry cream cheese on your toasted bagel 

This trip was going to be very VERY difficult. Thank God there was alcohol. And Yoosung. And probably dogs. And Yoosung. 

Yeah. 

Gotta love relatives. 

Jumin 

You received a call from a stern voice you didn’t recognize

<<“Hello. This is Mr. Han’s chauffeur. I’m approximately 6.3 miles away from your residence. Do not worry about clothes or other necessities. All will be provided for you.”>>

��Uh.. thanks? Where....?” 

<<“Mr. Han has invited you to join him on his stay at the Ppalgan Vineyard Estates. Have you not received the notification?”>>

You glanced at your phone, seeing two unread messages on your phone. 

You read them, feeling bad you hadn’t seen them before. 

“Yes, yes of course. Thank you. Tell him I said thank you. Are you sure it’s okay for me to attend?” 

<<“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Han gave me specific instructions to assure you would be able to come with him. I have been ordered to give 2 minute updates following your being picked up. I can assure you, it is his utmost wish that you join him this weekend. I’d be honored to thank him on your behalf, though I feel it would mean much more to him if you said it to him rather than me.” >>

“You’re right, thank you. And thanks for driving me. And for all the other stuff you said”, you replied nervously. 

<<”There is no need to thank me, Miss. I am glad to serve Mr. Han in anyway I can.”>>

The call hung up before you could spout out more thank yous 

you phone buzzed, startling you. 

you clicked the notification

<<(XXX-XXX-XXXX HAN COMPANIES) I’ve arrived at your residence. Let me know if there is anything I can carry for you. Sent 13:52>>

You quickly texted a reply of gratitude before rushing down the stairs out of your apartment, not wanting to make Jumin’s chauffeur wait. 

“Good to see you Miss Y/L/N. Is there anything I can get you? I have been given orders to purchase anything you may want or need on our way to the airport.” 

He quickly texted something on his phone, presumably a text to Jumin about your safe arrival to his limo.

“A-airport? You mean, like, flying? Are you sure I don’t need my wallet? It’s not too late for me to go grab it, right? I have my debit card on my phone too, otherwise.” 

“Miss Y/L/N you are not to spent a single won on this vacation. All is paid for.” 

“But my clothes... I don’t want Jumin to have to pay for all new things!!” 

"I assure you, money is not something Mr. Han wishes for you to be concerned with.” 

You’d stayed silent at that, feeling bad that you’d already bothered the poor man who’d just been ordered to drive you, not reassure you of Jumin’s financial affairs. 

You grew quiet, looking out the window as trees, streets, and cars zoomed past you. 

“If you so wish, there are numerous meals options in the compartments below the seats as well as alcohol, carbonated beverages and iced water glasses. You are, of course, welcome to any of these. Please do not hesitate to notify me if there is something you’d like instead. We’d glad to make it a regular option in all of our limousines.” 

You flushed, embarrassed at the amount of power Jumin’s words, and effectively, your own seemed to have on the entire Han Conglomerate as a whole. You laughed a little, it was funny thinking to yourself that you had so much power as to decide snack options for Jumin’s cars. 

Jumin was extra like that, he always went above and beyond to make you comfortable. You loved that about him. It made you feel a little spoiled, so you instinctively rejected most offers at things that seemed to further complicate his worker’s duties. 

You had no idea that when the chauffeur had said airport he meant the Han Private Airway Transportation Zone. 

As in... private jet. 

It was hard not to feel like you were in a whole different world. 

Not that Jumin treated you that way... but it was hard not to notice! 

You bowed in thanks to the driver before hastily finding your way to the nearest man standing in another black suit, his hands folded together in front of him. 

As soon as you uttered your name, his whole demeanor changed and he instantly had gone from cool and collected to humble and overwhelmingly kind. 

He’d quickly made his way to the boarding area, escorting you to the jet before leaving you at a polite distance way from Jumin who’d been looking at you from the moment you’d entered the aircraft. 

His eyes searched your own as you’d yet to discover his presence 

He couldn’t help but rake his eyes up and down your body, admiring the way you could look just in anything. 

He at last saw you searching the spacious cabin, at last laying eyes on him. 

His heart pounded faster, as if your noticing him made his heart leap in joy

You looked relieved and smiled, running over to him and sitting down next to him 

“Hi Jumin!! Oh, should I be calling you Mr. Han? That’s what your chauffeur called you.. sorry if that’s what I should’ve been addressing you as!!” 

His deep voice rumbled in your ear, causing you to shudder, “Jumin is fine.” 

You gazed up at him through your lashes, noticing the way his perfectly tailored vest made him look so... well... for lack of better word...hot. 

“Wow. You look...” Your eyes moved from his hair, to his face, to his neck, to his torso, slowly to his groin, to his legs... before you realized what you’d been doing and quickly your eyes shot up again. 

You bit your lip, “You look nice.” 

“Nice?” 

You laughed shyly, and slightly (embarrassingly) breathless, “Yeah. Yeah you do. Nice.” 

Jumin couldn’t help the sly smile he’d been holding back before replying, “You look beautiful.” 

You flushed and looked down, squirming in your seat a little before looking at him once more, offering a small, “..thank you..” 

After a few minutes of silence, you’d decided to change the subject, chattering on about how you wondered what this mysterious vacation would hold 

Jumin couldn’t help is concentration half on every word you were saying, but also your lips. Slowly licking his own, he nodded along when you’d gotten especially enthusiastic, grinning slightly when you’d gotten so excited you’d leapt out of your luxury seat. 

Within a half hour of the trip to your destination in Italy, Jumin had trouble concentrating on much else. 

Get it together, Jumin, you’re not some fool like Zen. 

It’d gotten worse the more you’d leaned further in your seat, your chest becoming slightly exposed

he covered his mouth with a hand, opting for looking out one of the many windows of the jet. 

You’d always caught his attention and made him lose his focus -- something he’d never lost before he met you 

He blamed the strawberry sent that you’d always carried with you 

He wasn’t much for expensive, faux perfume that so many of his father’s skanks would wear... it was like no other. 

After a few hours of grueling torture on your part (though you hadn’t know every single time you’d grabbed his hand or arm it’d sent his heart on a sky dive) Jumin was glad to have arrived in the gorgeous Italian acreage of the countryside. 

It was even more beautiful at the dusk of night, you’d decided 

Immediately a shiny vehicle pulled up, ready to transport you and Jumin to the estate you were to be residing in for the weekend. 

Upon pulling into the culdesac, you almost scoffed at the word “estate” -- it was more of a country in and of itself, land stretched beyond what you could see 

The mansion itself stood on pillars and high, Gothic windows. 

Inside, flying buttresses decorated the building, giving it an elegant and aged ambiance that you just adored 

“It’s so beautiful.” 

He smiled at you then, watching you take in the wonders he’d realized he took for granted. 

He was then directed to a double-door entrance way, “Your room, Mr. Han, Miss Y/L/N.” 

“Separate, correct?” 

The man stood in surprise, looking slightly aghast, “T-they never specified such details.” 

“Contact them immediately to confirm. I’ll work it out from there.” 

“Yes, Mr. Han.” From there, the man scurried away to contact the head of the estate. 

After a few moments, he returned, “The Rossi Conglomerate had assumed that you’d brought your fiance with you.” 

“Did you mention I don’t have one?” 

“Y-yes, of course! But, Mr. Han, your father--”

Jumin sighed, “I’ll take care of it.” with a wave of his hand, the man was gone 

You thanked him on his way out. 

Jumin looked at you, searching for a reaction of displeasure or worry

When he didn’t find one, he began, “I was notified the Rossi had booked their other estates to their American investors. My being here is a formality, but it is business. It would be a great discourtesy to demand--” 

You smiled reassuringly, “Jumin, don’t worry about it.. we’ll share the bed, okay?” You held your hand in his own, rubbing soothing circles on his knuckles. 

Jumin looked at you, choking on his spit slightly. 

“Y/N you do understand that--” 

“It’s fine, Jumin!! It’s late already, I’ll just put up my hair.. and.. do you know where the night clothes would be?” 

He watched as you fixed a bobby pin between your teeth before running your fingers through your hair, watching as you arched your back to-- 

“Jumin? ...you don’t know?” 

He cleared his throat, looking away, pink dusting his cheeks

“Bathroom.” 

You thanked him, unaware of his watchful eyes 

It had been a few seconds since you’d entered the bathroom before he heard a loud and alarmed, “..UM....JUMIN...?!” 

He’d quickly made his way into the bathroom

“What’s wro--” 

He looked and laying on the long granite island of the large bathroom was a silky set of lingerie as well as a note in Italian you couldn’t read. 

Jumin’s words stopped dead on his lips as he stared at you, then the silky underwear set, you, silky underwear, you.......silky underwear. 

On the outside, Jumin liked to think he came off as calm and collected, saying, “I can get you something else to wear.” 

But when he’d made it two steps out of the bathroom he had a little collision. And by collision, I mean his face.. and the wall. 

He looked in every drawer, finding nothing. He presumed clothes would be delivered as specified. But it was late already.. their servants are dismissed, only the protective guards surrounded the inside and outside of the estate.. explaining the situation to them didn’t seem very promising. 

Of course you were kicking yourself, before you’d found their little....gift... you’d cast your days clothes into the washer. They were probably soaked by now. 

Maybe I could use a hair dryer...? Or I could stuff them in the dryer?? 

Either way you’d be without clothes for.. too long. 

And nothing would be greater punishment then showing all that in front of the man you had completely fallen for... 

You heard a knock on the bathroom door. You listened from inside. 

“Hey, I, uh, couldn’t find anything. Do you think you could wear your clothes from today?” 

You whimpered, on the verge of tears, “I already put it in the washer!” 

He knocked again, “Can I hand you something?”, he asked, undoing the buttons of his formal shirt. 

“C-close your eyes!” 

Jumin chuckled darkly before covering his eyes and handing her his collared shirt 

“I’d give you the pants, too, but I don’t think they’d really fit you. Could you look at what they’d provided for me? Maybe slip on something from mine.” 

“N-no! That’d be even worse for me!! .. and you!” You blushed again imagining him half naked

You hurriedly shuffled through the drawers, but to no avail. 

You gulped, slipping on the lingerie to ensure that maybe something would be covered before buttoning Jumin’s formal shirt on you as well. 

it was so big it didn’t leave much for the imagination 

but you decided through a 10 minute pep talk that you’d suck it up and try your best to make his shirt into a night gown. 

You at last stepped out of the bathroom, Jumin’s head shooting toward the sudden noise before taking you in 

He could scarcely breathe, much less come up with a coherent sentence 

you were in his shirt... 

with barely any clothes on underneath

and you looked up at him shyly, biting your lip a little 

drawing even more attention to your lips 

Jumin had to stifle a groan, opting to head to the bathroom to change

After splashing some cold water on his face in a poor attempt to get his head out of the gutter, he quickly got on his pjs 

after you both were ready for bed, Jumin sat on the bed, opening a small novel he’d been enjoying, Anthem.  

His attention was immediately diverted from the dystopian fiction when he saw you were stretching

His shirt rode up high as he took in the way the lingerie perfect accentuated your curves, though it didn’t cover much below the waist 

Noticing your folly, your eyes widened in shock before you immediately put your hands down

which, just your luck, made it all worse. 

the sudden movement disheveled the shirt, causing it to ride down completely on one side, openly displaying the soft brassiere beneath it 

Jumin slammed his book so hard it left an echo in the large room. 

Great. He couldn’t even make it look like his book was suddenly unbelievably interesting that he just so happened to not take notice of the obvious sight before him.

You blanched, feeling a breeze along your shoulder, gasping before running to your side of the bed and pretending you don’t exist anymore 

Meanwhile Jumin is in a  c r i s i s 

In the most eloquent of words, his mind said holy fucking motherfucking shit oh my God fuck fuck fuck AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH oh my god shit shit shit fuck shit sdfasodjgiajsidogjosdg MALFUNCTION!! WARNING!!!! RUN BITCH!!! 

But Jumin didn’t run

because mama ain’t raise no bitch 

but also because if he stood up it would be blatantly obvious that he had-- 

Stop thinking about it, Jumin.

He tried to redirect his mind to his 5 senses, a grounding technique he’d learned when he got too anxious when he was younger 

But sight seemed to dominate it as his mind replayed your facial expressions, the way your hands awkwardly tried to cover yourself up, the way you looked the way he’d take it all off--- 

Oh God. I’m deep in shit. 

He had never been so pissed at himself... and embarrassed. 

He looked over at you, a horrible decision, really. 

You were still awake, your face was redder than the strawberry sent that adorned you 

“s-sorry..” you whispered, willing yourself to try to forget, “pretend that never happened..” 

Jumin was practically feral and you were saying it never happened? 

Jumin couldn’t just pretend he didn’t just see a fucking goddess 

but he would for you 

“..........pretend what never happened?” 

You sighed, a small smile on your face as you quickly turned to thank him 

but he was a LOT closer than you imagined 

he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at you, his head slightly angled. 

And suddenly your faces weren’t so far apart.

And you couldn’t help but slowly close your eyes 

Jumin felt confusion when you’d done this

he can be a bit of a pea brain, so he of course said, “I’m sure you’re very tired.” 

He shut off the light, reaching over you 

You held back the big frown you’d gotten when you realized he’d rejected you 

unbeknownst to you that it took everything in him, from the moment he’d saw you in the jet cabin, not to scoop you up in his arms and make out with you the whole way there. 

Zen 

Was Zen going to invite you to his own fucking tour? 

Of course he was 

he liked flexing his connections 

and most of all, showing you just how much he cared about you 

and loved you

but not the love part because God if you ever found out Zen might jump into the nearest body of water and never return 

not that he didn’t have any confidence

he has lots of it 

but it all kind of disintegrates when he gets to talking about his real feelings

But come on, it was blatantly obvious to anyone who had heckin eyes 

or ears 

or just any functioning body 

the way he’d try to subtly throw an arm over your shoulder 

or he’d lean in whenever you spoke 

or the way he’d readjust his posture when you walked into a room 

or the way everyone caught him staring 

like anytime you weren’t looking 

or when you are looking because he is “built different” 

So the limo ride to the fancy hotel he was to stay at was something that had him looking forward to the tour, but also dreading it 

you’d sat close to him in the limo because his agent and other workers were sitting along with him. 

So close that your ass got pushed further and further onto his lap

because damn where the fuck are we and why are there so many goddamn potholes 

Zen tried to steady you by firmly grabbing your hips 

which was NOT the move 

because now that you were firmly set on his lap, every bump felt like a fucking war against his hormones. 

Like a gentleman, he quickly opted to seat you next to him, not wanting you to feel embarrassed 

still, he could feel you being pulled closer to him with every long turn the limo made or every bump or abrupt stop 

and it was torture. 

like this man is sweating 

but by some miracle you arrive at the hotel in one piece! Yay! 

but Zen’s soul has left his body~~ 

so you get set up 

You open the room, “Look, Zen! This bed is HUGE!!”, you ran over to it and plopped your face onto the sheets

He chuckled, watching you act like a little kid excited about a hotel for the first time 

his brows furrowed when he realized there was no door separator between your rooms 

He immediately called the front desk 

all you could over hear was “No, there seems to be some kind of mistake” 

and “I reserved two rooms -- conjoined” 

“Alright, ok. Thanks.” and then he hung up. 

“So..” he sighed, “They can’t get another room because they’re completely booked. Someone must’ve recognized the limo and lots of fans immediately bought up all the rooms in hopes of seeing me.”

“It’s alright Zen! I can ask to switch with your agent or something!!” 

“NO!” Zen said a little too loudly. “No. Um, look it would be bad because he’s a man.” 

“Your a dude, too, Zen.” 

“I-- yeah, but that’s different because I’m a guy you can trust.” 

“True..”

“So I’ll sleep on the couch, ‘kay?” 

“Zen, no! You need your beauty sleep to be ready for your performance tomorrow!!!” 

“It’s alright, really!”

“I’ll sleep on the couch!” 

“Like hell you will.” 

“Please :(”

“Y/N, seriously--” 

“Then how about this! You and I just sleep in the same bed!” 

Ever the dramatic soul, Zen gasped with his palm over his heart “How SCANDALOUS!” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Playboy?”

“Only for you, baby”, he winked. 

You stuttered, “T-that’s not funny! Seriously don’t make it weird you horn- dog!” 

He threw his head back in laughter, “Horn-dog?! I thought you said you trusted me!” 

“Not when you’re obviously thinking about doing this and that to me!!” 

“Doing this and tha---Hey! Who do you think I am?!”

There was suddenly a loud bang on the wall and a burly man shouted, “GO TO FUCKIN’ SLEEP YOU OBNOXIOUS, SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED LITTLE SHITS!”

You smirked, holding in a laugh saying, “Sounds like your fans are getting jealous.” 

Zen’s mouth dropped and you began laughing hysterically 

“T-that was like a 60 year old man!” 

“I’M 42 YOU LITTLE SHIT” 

You fell back on the bed, laughing louder 

Zen shouted back, “WELL EXCUSE ME, SEXY, 42 YEAR OLD MAN” 

There was silence before a harsh knock sounded at your door 

All Zen’s bravado disintegrated and he made a dash for the bed, whispering loudly for you to “Turn off the fuckin’ lights, turn off the fuckin’ lights!” 

You stifled more giggles rising up to your throat as you clicked off the light, making sure the room was locked, and climbed into bed

you breathed out your last laughs, sighing to yourself contentedly before noticing the close proximity you were to Zen 

You stared at each other for a long moment 

You leaned in closer 

Zen placed a palm on your cheek, gently cupping it

he softly whispered, “Can I kiss you?” 

You answered by harshly connecting your lips

The two of you feeding off each other’s oxygen as Zen bit your lip, causing you to gasp and open your mouth to make way for his tongue 

you whimpered, feeling faint from lack of oxygen

the two of you parted, out of breath 

Zen wanted to say something smooth like “I’ve always wanted to do that.” 

but instead he said “I’ve always wanted to do you.” 

He mentally smacked his head, blaming the lack of oxygen for his stupidity

But you smirked up at him coyly, replying, “Then why don’t you?” 

Um yeah rip your hotel neighbor he will literally hate both of you so much 

I had honestly SO MUCH FUN writing this!! Let me know if you want, like, a part two to this. I think I’d just be so fun lol

[subwaysurf45]

Tech problems (bucky x reader)

Summary: bucky doesn’t know how to work the TV, his new phone, anything. After getting made fun if he wants to quit but the reader helps him out.

Pairing: bucky barns x reader

Warning: mentions of death near the end, but it’s mostly fluff

Masterlist!

Bucky stood at the counter in the kitchen, full weight leaning on the concrete slab that most people ate off of. His eyebrows were basically touching as he fiddled with his phone that Tony just gave him, he just couldn’t figure it out for the life of him.

“Hey, old guy!” Tony walked in, “whatcha doing?” He walked over and peered over Bucky’s shoulder.

“Trying to…” his brain wasn’t focused on completing the sentence, more on creating an e-mail.

“I see,” Tony snatched the phone from Bucky’s hands and turned his back to him, Bucky tried to see what he was doing but Tony kept walking around. A little bit of anger grew inside him because Tony seemed just fine at working with tech- everyone did.

Steve had walked in, “Tony, what are you doing?” His voice was tired and annoyed, he already knew what was happening simply from the way Bucky looked longingly at Steve. “Tony-“

“Ah-ta-ta, let me help him.” Tony smirked, his voice dripping in sarcasm. “I’m doing it all for him, aaaand- done!” He turned and slapped the phone in the table, it looked like everyone else’s.

“What did you do to it?” Bucky asked, his anger coming through in his tone.

“Nothing, tin man- old man- silver hair, just nothing.” He seemed like he was telling the truth, “i just did it so you wouldn’t keep annoying me and asking so many god damn questions, jeez.” Tony scoffed and walked away, Bucky didn’t pick up the phone, rather stare at it.

“How stupid am I?” Bucky asked, “really, like you got this figured out in less than a week, Tony told me when I asked for the Bluetooth password.”

“Wifi.” Steve corrected.

“What?” Bucky looked over, “same thing, who cares…” Bucky waved him off, his head snapped up at Steve suppressing a laugh, his stomach sank, “what?” His voice light and almost a whisper.

“It’s not the same thing, very much not the same thing.” He laughed, Bucky sighed, he’d had enough of this. Bucky picked up the phone and walked down the hall, “oh, come on! I’m having fun with you!” Steve laughed.

~~~

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, training with Nat had just ended and you were heading back to your shared room with Bucky. As you walked past the kitchen you saw Steve looking at nothing, he hand kept his head up.

“Why the long face?” You panted, still needing to catch your breath.

“I made fun of Bucky, he’s mad now.” His mouth barley moved, the sentence was muffled.

“About what?” You asked softly but you were still mad, he made fun of your boyfriend.

“Him not knowing how to use tech,” Steve looked up and saw your jaw drop, “what?”

“Literally last night he was so upset because he called me when I was training and he used the emergency signal, so I came running to our room and he had no idea.” You looked towards the bedrooms, “he was so upset with himself that he made me scared, he was all in his head. I need to go check up on him,” you sighed and turned to go to your room; that hot shower had to wait.

Once you made it to your room you softly knocked on the door, “Bucky?” You called, when you heard a hum you opened the door a jar, seeing him slumped over with his phone in his hands. “Hey, babe.” He seemed to break out of his thoughts when you placed a hand on his back.

“Hi, doll face.” He tried to smile, “how’s training?” He looked over to you as you sat beside him.

“Very long and very tiring,” you chuckled, you knew if you asked how he was doing he might get mad or breakdown, “Steve told me what happened, he seemed sad when I was in the kitchen.” Your hand started to rub his upper back, making sure you didn’t hit any scars through the shirt. “You wanna talk about it?” His phone was still on the home page, all the apps were downloaded but you knew he didn’t do that himself.

“I don’t know anything,” he sighed, “i don’t know how to work my phone, the microwave, the TV…I don’t know how to use the system thing in here properly, I can barley understand cars these days, that’s why I use the motorcycle because they didn’t change much but-… y/n, everyone thinks it so funny, the old guy who doesn’t know jack shit about tech.” He slumped forward.

“I don’t think it’s funny,” you moved up to the back of his neck, knowing he likes when you get under into his scalp.

“You’re different.” He stated.

“How so?”

“Because you’ve never been mean to anyone, you’re this shining star, you’re a light and you’re never mean.” His eyes left his phone and he looked at your leg, not wanting to make eye contact after saying that.

Your heart melted, his lips turned up at the quickly kiss to his cheek. He looked over and kissed you back, your hands wrapped around his neck and his pulled your waist in. After pulling away your foreheads rested on one another’s.

“Let me teach you, yeah?” You whispered, “no jokes. No funny business. As long as you need, I’ll go through it all.” You leaned back and waiting for his response.

“I don’t wanna make you go through-“

“Nope. Final rule, no self-doubt.” You smiled, his lip pouted out and he tried to cover his face and blush.

“Okay,” he nodded, “teach me.”

“Not right now,” you laughed, Bucky quirked a brow, “I’m tired and sweaty and I feel gross, also, I would like some cuddles.” You stood and grabbed your towel and a change of comfy clothes, “tomorrow.”

~~~

It was the next day, Bucky sat on the bed as you walked around the TV in your shared room, deep down he wanted to take some notes but he knew if anyone found them, he’d never hear the end of it.

“So let’s start basic,” you stood in front of the blank TV, “let’s say you’ve lost he remote, this is how you control it. Right here,” you pointed to the circle with a line through the top symbol, “that is the universal signal for on and off, look for that. Then, once you’ve pressed it here is the little notches for the volume and then the channel notches.” You pointed as you went along the bottom of the screen.

“Sounds easy,” Bucky muttered more to himself.

“But we have a remote, here, same little symbol, on and off. There, that’s the volume, and the big circle can help navigate up and down, side to side.” You showed him up close, “lots of these buttons will never be used, so I won’t really go through them.” You waved it off. “Okay, test number one, turn of the tv.” You passed the remote.

“Okay…” bucky clicked the button with the symbol he now knew and the screen lit up, some random cartoon played, “yes!” He shit up and jumped, quickly catching himself he sat back down.

“Can you change the channel for me?” You asked, a smirk on your face from his reaction before, he clicked the channel button and it went to the news. “And turn it up, please.”

“Easy,” he smiled and clicked, no sound came out. “What?” He clicked again and the sound came back, but not louder.

“You hit the mute button, use the long button here,” you pointed, he clicked up and it went up one level, after catching on and holding it the volume kept going up, “Bucky-“ you tried to warn but the volume cut out completely.

“Shit.” He stood up, Bucky fiddled with the notches on the actual TV but nothing happened. “What did I do?” His face i genuine terror, “did I break it, oh god, Tony’s gonna get some mad.”

“You blew out the speakers,” after observing the smoke coming out from the side of the TV that was the only possible answer.

“I knew i’d mess it up, I get so cocky, I really thought I had it.” He paced around, tugging his hair.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all be fine,” you calmed him and sat him in the bed, “it’s hard at first but it will only get easier.” You smiled before pulling him into a hug, you could feel his sigh of defeat as he hugged back.

You both headed out to the kitchen, Bucky still in a mood from breaking the TV a couple minutes ago. You both had some coffee, yours with a little milk.

“Hello, lovebirds.” Tony walked in, Bucky looked right at his feet and tried not to look awkward. “What’s up with cyborg over here?” Tony giggled.

“Nothing,” you dipped your coffee, Bucky just nodded along.

“I got a notification that the speakers in your room were blown out,” Tony teased, Bucky stiffened and inches closer to you, “what happened?”

Bucky looked up, his mouth open and about to talk. You gently placed a hand on his chest and looked him in the eye, a way of saying ‘I got this’.

“I sat in the remote, turns out my ass poked it right at the volume and I couldn’t figure it out in time.” You laughed, Bucky looked at you crazy before forcing one out.

Tony hunched over, “I can picture that, oh wow- I wish I was there!” He cackled before turning away and walking down the hall, “it’ll be fixed by tomorrow!” He called over his shoulder.

~~~

It was lonely without you, it was very rare you’d go in missions without Bucky but also rare you’d go alone. It was a simple infiltrate, you were more on the espionage rather than Captain America side of powers. 

Bucky had tired to talk to Steve about letting someone go with you, this mission would involve zero contact with the base. But no one listened, it was always going to be you.

It had been a month, three quarters done with the they needed. The tech lesions had to be halted, you weren’t there to teach and Bucky refused to let anyone tell him anything about the tech in his room.

“If only you could see me, babe…” he whispered as he worked the TV, that was the only thing he knew, and he was great at it. Last week he recorded a show, he was never going to watch it, but it as recorded. He almost had a heart attack when the remote stopped working, but it just ran out of batteries.

After doing all the cool tricks he knew he looked over to your side of the bed, it was neatly made and seemed untouched. Whenever you’d be fine for even a night he’d sleep on the ground, but he promised he’d sleep on the bed, but he never rolled over or even sat on your side.

The one thing he missed was the way your shampoo stunk up the whole bed in a good way, when he’d wake up the morning after you’d showered he’d could smell your lavender shampoo right away, it almost puts him back to sleep. But as the days went on, it faded.

Bucky looked around before gently placing his face your pillow, almost like an afterthought of your sent came through; just barley there. His face hovered before he gave in and relaxed on it, he knew if he’d roll around the sent would fade quicker, he didn’t really care.

There was a hard spot on your pillow, he reached under and found a green spiral notebook. It didn’t have anything in the cover, once he opened it a gasp fell from his lips.

It was a notebook, for every piece of tech in the house. From his phone to how F.R.I.D.A.Y. works, it was all there. Intricate diagrams that where labeled, one page had everything he needed to know.

Bucky’s phone sat face down in his bedside table, he flipped the that page and looked it over. He picked up his phone and read through it all, slightly muttering then words that were written to himself like he was being taught.

“Okay, you got this,” he said as he pressed the on button, as he navigated around he learned how to add a contact, send and text, google, the a picture, send an email. Everything.

~~~

You walked into the compound completely exhausted, one black eye layer, the base had been infiltrated. You went to your mission report computer and Tony was there, he gave you your phone.

“Connect back to the wifi,” he nodded before leaving you to connect.

Once you were fully back online your phone began to buzz, over and over. Tons of notifications rolled in. You went to emails first.

From: bucky

To: y/n

Subject: test?

Hellooooooo this is a test, don’t worry about it!

You laughed and scrolled through the other emails, finding out they were all kind of the same, then you went to text messages.

There was a selfie of him holding the green book, his smile couldn’t have been wider. He sent three, probably by accident. But they were still cute.

So I figured hit text!

Kinda cool

I found the book, it was like Christmas

Anyway, I know you won’t read this but I think I’ll try the oven next, I’ll ask wanda about it.

As the texts went on, your heart started to drop and your stomach swirled. They had been getting progressively sadder.

Hey doll face, I hope you’re well, miss you

I miss you

I love you

I wanna marry you one day, maybe live on farm and have a few kids

If you want

Sent: two months ago

I finished your book, I think I know it all now, I’ve been going over those tests you put in the back sleeve, they’re really good

You’re very thoughtful

I know you can’t see this

I don’t know what to do with myself, this is very hard.

Sent: one month ago

Are you dead?

I had a dream you died in my arms, and I can’t tell if it was a flashback or a dream

I hope you’re not

I love you too much

Please come home

Please

I really need you

I wish I never learn how to use this shit, honestly, I can’t seem to put my phone down because this is all I have if you right now. I keep checking it to see if you’ve responded but I know you haven’t, but part of me wants you to respond so I know you’re alive.

I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.

Sent: 24 hours ago

You slammed the phone down and raced down the hall, you passed the kitchen and everyone who smiled at you because they hadn’t seen you in three months, they probably also thought you were dead.

You stopped right before the door, you could hear soft whimpers coming from inside.

“I miss you,” the voice was muffled.

You opened the door silently, you saw Bucky lying right next to your side of the bed, it was still perfectly made. You also saw what looked like glass shattered by the wall, a closer look and it was his phone.

“Bucky?” You asked.

His head shot up and he sat up straight, after wiping his face he ran right over to you. His hug pushed you back on the floor, he just stayed there.

“Don’t ever do that again, please.” His voice was still shaken, “I can’t go through that again.”

“Never again, i was so worried when I saw your text a minuet ago.” You whispered and ran your fingers through his hair.

“Your name in my phone, your the only one.” He sniffled, “it was like it was taunting me, I got really mad and I threw it.” He hugged you tighter, “you were supposed to come home two days ago.” He cried.

“I know,” you housed him and sat up, as he pulled away he saw your bruised face, his thumb gently traced the purple mark.

“I don’t want a phone, I like knowing about it, but I’ll only ever borrow yours.” He seemed like he was pledging something, like an oath.

“Done deal,” you pulled him in for a long kiss, hoping it would never end.

[capesandshapes]

Didn't You Know? (Post Reveal/Pre Relationship)

Summary:

Marinette is sick and realizes that Adrien has a secret to tell her.

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

The music was loud.

Far too loud.

But she knew at the same time that she was drunk, far too drunk; so that might have played a part in it. Adrien sitting at the bar with girls surrounding him—draped on his shoulders and with hands on his knees— might have also played a part in it. Because she’s tired, and sick, and lonely; and he’s there like he always is, waiting to take her home, waiting to take care of her because he feels like it’s his duty.

Because he’s Chat Noir and she’s Ladybug, and he promised one day however many years ago that he would always take care of her. Now she has to live with that. Now she has to live with wanting him, but still not fucking saying it.

And just when her night seems like it can’t get worse, some guy dumps a pint of whiskey on the front of her dress and makes to clean it up, his napkin at the ready to blot it like this totally isn’t some pre-planned thing—

“Oof,” a familiar voice says beside her, placing his sweatshirt around her shoulders before she can even protest and pushing the hands away before the man can try to ‘help’. “Thank you for that, but she’s already taken care of, I think I’m gonna take her home.”

And immediately the guy, some big burly man likely in his thirties, is flinging accusations and acting like he knows everything. “And who are you to do that?” Like he wasn’t just trying to do something awful.

“I’m her husband,” Adrien says, flashing a black and green ring while throwing a cheeky smile over his shoulder as he pulled the two edges of his sweatshirt a little bit closer around her. “Happily married,” he mutters, his eyes softening as they landed on hers and he saw her pull the sweatshirt on to really sell the statement. He leaned forward to zip it up, throwing the man another smile, this one verging on a warning as he placed his hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize,” the man began, blinking as Adrien made to herd her away.

“It’s fine,” Adrien said, his arm around her shoulders and his eyes staying firmly on her. “She’s going home.” In a stage whisper, he added, “you’re sick, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Which was only half because of the other man and half because she actually was sick, and he wanted an answer.

She had been wondering how long she could keep it from him that night, how long she could last dancing with Alya and accepting only water. Now that he knew who she was, Adrien had a way of seeing through all of her other disguises too. Like her telling herself that she wasn’t sick and trying to act like she wasn’t sick.

Even though a small part of her was afraid she might have caught the flu or been suffering from some sign of overwork…

“I’m going to get your coat,” he said, guiding her near the door.

“Are you also going to go and tell more people that we’re married?” She asked wearily, swaying on her feet.

He laughed, leaving a small kiss on her forehead that almost made her cross her eyes. “I tell everyone I’m married; it keeps them from hitting on me and technically I am…” He raised his hand, waggling his eyebrows at her, “married to the job,” he joked. “I’m taken in more ways than one.”

She wished she didn’t laugh, if only because it encouraged that type of thing. As his friend, she shouldn’t have been happy that he was sitting in clubs with his miraculous on his ring finger, turning away girls who could have been something to him. As his friend, she shouldn’t have raised the sleeve of his sweatshirt to her nose as he walked away, smelling the soft cologne that he’s taken to wearing instead of the Agreste branded stuff.

She really sucked at this whole being his friend thing. More so now than ever.

He reappeared with her jacket, her housekeys in his hand. He didn’t, of course, make any moves to replace the sweatshirt around her shoulders, just another addition to the list of many things that would always make her wonder about where she actually stood with him.

Alya always insisted that he liked her and was just waiting for the right time to say anything, but two years had passed since they’d revealed their identities and Marinette had started to doubt that. If it was more than a childhood crush, he would have told her by now.

Then again, she thought as she watched him wait for their taxi, she hadn’t told him.

***********************************

Adrien unlocked her door and hauled her stuff inside, Marinette following closely behind. He reached around her once she was safely inside, closing the door and locking it.

“I’ll stay on the couch tonight in case you need anything,” he informed her. Adrien was often overbearing when she was sick, a trait that he’d picked up from her once she learned that no one was really around to care for him when the boy was sick. It almost became tradition for the man to sleep in her living room whenever she was ill, another reason why she didn’t want him to know.

It was almost painful how much he cared.

That was the problem with the two of them, someday he would get a girlfriend or she would have another boyfriend, and they would tell him how weird this was, that he cared way too much for the young woman and she cared too far beyond reason for him as well. Then it would end.

She didn’t want it to end.

She wanted a thousand different things in her life, like to start her own fashion line and see the world, but she didn’t want Adrien to leave her.

She was in love with Chat Noir. How long? She couldn’t tell you. Before the reveal, probably. Before she knew that he shared those green eyes with the other guy who made her chest feel heavy and her breathing weak.

“You should shower,” Adrien said. “Are you hungry? We didn’t go out to eat this time.”

“I had a microwave meal.”

“You didn’t eat then,” Adrien proclaimed, marching into her kitchen. Ever since he learned how to cook one summer at Nino’s grandparents, he was a storm in the kitchen. He made food for her whenever he could, always watching her closely for her reaction to that first bite. It reminded her of her father in a way, that excitement to watch her experience new things and know that he was responsible.

She sighed, lumbering into the kitchen on exhausted legs and wrapping her arms around his back, burying her face into it and murmuring her thanks. “I love you,” she mumbled, such a common phrase from her that it always just slipped out.

“I love you too,” he stated, his hands wrapping around hers and giving a reassuring squeeze. “You can put on a new one of my sweatshirts when you get out of the shower,” he said, because eventually she had started a whole collection of them without thinking about it.

She nodded, bending over to remove her high heels before traveling further into the apartment. He was already at her feet by the time she’d managed to overcome dizziness and bend over, beginning the process of unbuckling her heels and tossing them aside.

She blinked at him, feeling his soft blond hair brush against her leg and immediately giving into the urge to touch it. Her hand wove through the back of his hair and he pressed a small kiss to her leg as he finished the last shoe, tossing them aside. “There,” he said, smiling up at her.

She really hoped he thought she was red from the fever.

Freed from her shoes, she felt the world blink in and out as she stumbled to her bathroom, turning the shower on cold to combat her fever despite her body’s pleas not to. She practically fell into the shower and she knew that he heard, rushing to the door as quick as possible. “I’m fine,” she called before he could so much as knock, blinking at the mixture of shampoos and soaps before her. When would she finally make room for Adrien to have his own shelf? She shook her head, tempted as always to see if there was some magic in his fifty-dollar shampoo, but settling for her strawberry-scented one instead. Adrien had teased her the last time she’d used anything on his recommendation.

Finally clean, she emerged from the bathroom, walking the short distance in her towel before ending up in her room. “It’s almost done,” Adrien said from the kitchen as she pulled on a pair of joggers and one of his old sweatshirts, pulling her hair into a sad attempt of a bun.

Deeming herself close enough to presentable, she moved back into the kitchen, steadying herself on the wall when he noticed her and his face broke into a smile.

“You didn’t have any chicken stock, so I made leek soup,” he said, gesturing to the bowls, one for her, one for him.

She nodded, grabbing the bowl and moving to the living room, scooting too close into his side when he settled on the couch beside her, flicking on the tv. He threw on the show they’d been watching recently, a bad soap opera about werewolves that had the sets falling apart around them. She let out the softest yawn when the theme music began, sinking further and further into him until he finally finished his food, placing his arm around her.

“When is she finally going to realize that he’s in love with her,” she grumbled. “I mean, they’re dating, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien said, pulling the empty bowl from her lap and pulling her on top of him, the two laying together as the show continued to play. His eyebrows furrowed, concern for the characters showing on his face, “I mean, she has stuff at his place and everything.”

That didn’t mean anything, Marinette had things at Adrien’s place. She had more than one drawer, a whole closet even. “I mean, he said he’s in love with her, right?”

“Yeah,” Adrien agreed. “And they go practically everywhere together, people invite them as a couple.”

“And he sends her all these texts every day of things that she’s into!” Marinette complained. “I don’t know much about love, but that seems like it’s part of it.”

“Mhm,” Adrien agreed, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Thank you for the recipes the other day, by the way.”

“No problem—” she began, and then stopped, her eyes sliding over to him. He still watched the tv with the same expression, not even giving what he’d done a second thought.

“I think he’s finally about to say it,” Adrien stated with a frown. “It’s taken long enough.”

But Marinette couldn’t focus on the show at all. All she could do was stare at him. “You almost kissed me,” she marveled.

He cast her a questioning look, looking over at her just slightly before turning back to the tv. “Do you want me to fully kiss you, or?”

Marinette straightened, using her forearms to jerk back from him, her eyes wide.

He blinked, turning around to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. “Marinette?”

“You kissed me,” she repeated, deciding at the corner was good enough and reaching to touch her mouth with her hand almost absentmindedly, tumbling against his chest in the process.

“Yes?” He said, peeling her off him to look him in the eyes. “I mean, that’s what people do when they’re dating—”

Her mouth fell open.

“Marinette..?”

“We’re dating?!” She yelled, her eyes wild.

He immediately flattened against the couch, looking almost as shocked at the statement as she was. “Marinette, I have stuff at your apartment, you have stuff at mine. I cook for you, we have shows. We watched all of Naruto together. You tell me you love me every day, and I say it back.”

“But that’s—We—” She floundered, almost falling off the couch.

Adrien’s hand caught her. “Marinette, be careful, you have a fever—”

“How long?” She asked, slumping into his hand. “We haven’t even kissed—”

“To be fair, we have kissed plenty of times before and I just assumed—”

“How. Long.” She repeated, and she could see the pure terror grow in his eyes.

“Two weeks?” He said, quickly explaining, “I mean, I sent you that long text about how much I liked you and you sent me back that you would be lucky to be my girlfriend, any girl would—”

She gasped, almost falling backward this time before his hands plastered themselves to the small of her back, the young man sitting up beneath her.

“Marinette?!”

“You’re my boyfriend,” she said loudly. “Oh my god, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He frowned.

“But you tell people that you’re married—”

“As a private joke,” he corrected. “I also tell people that I’m taken, not as a joke.” His hands pulled back from her, his voice almost unsure as he asked, “do you not want to be?”

“Of course, I want to be,” she squeaked. “I mean, that’s like asking someone if they want to be rich, or have a room full of puppies, or cure cancer—”

The corner of his mouth rose in a smirk.

“It’s just that I didn’t know,” she finished. “I haven’t even kissed you. And now I’m sick and I have this boyfriend here to take care of me, and he’s going to sleep on the couch…” Marinette struggled to list everything else wrong.

Adrien didn’t give her a chance.

No, instead he grabbed the side of her face and pulled her down, pressing his lips against hers in a firm, inarguable kiss.

“Well, I don’t have to sleep on the couch…” he said as he pulled away.

[yandere-sins]

Hello! How are you? May I pls request the prompts scratches and collar for Sakusa Kiyoomi for the yandere writing challenge thingy? I hope this is alright! Thank you <3

Thanks for requesting!! Sakusa is one of my favorites actually, so I am really excited to write for him! uwu Please enjoy!

Scratches - “Try that again sweetheart, I dare you.” (I don’t want to overlap prompts too much, so I am doing just this one!)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Living with Kiyoomi had never been easy.

When you two got married, you’d been quite intimidated by him after your husband wouldn’t look at you even once the whole day. You thought to yourself about how much he must have hated you, considering he only agreed because you two had been promised since your childhood. This marriage didn’t seem like something he was interested in, and the moment you were ‘unloaded’ at his home, you felt like the strangest organism in the whole world.

Nonetheless, you tried to be liked. If you at least couldn’t be a nuisance to him, you thought he might accept you as his partner. But all your attempts backfired gloriously. He wouldn’t eat your cooking, clean over your cleaning, ignore you after he came home from training. For the first year or so, he wouldn’t even take you to one of his matches. You were sure other spouses were allowed to go, so why not you?

But you got used to it. You had to, somehow, or else you probably would have never stopped feeling unloved and unwanted. It wasn’t what you expected, hearing about love all this time, but you didn’t have a bad life by his side, at least. His accounts were filled with money, food was delivered fresh to your doorstep every day, and though you didn’t know anyone in the city that you two settled in, you got along well enough with your neighbors, so you didn’t feel too lonely.

And what you least expected, once you accepted that you and Kiyoomi could never be an item, he started to relax too. Had you been too much? Maybe pushing him too far without realizing? Intruding on him? Or perhaps he had just been told to be nicer to you by his parents, but your surprise was great when he joined you to watch TV one evening.

Given, he didn’t speak a word and didn’t seem too interested in the show you were watching. There also were about two seats free between you, but it was a start. And gradually, your relationship improved.

»»———————— ♡

Nervously, you looked at your outfit, wondering if it was too much. Kiyoomi had never asked you to dress up to accompany him before, scowling whenever you decided to try and impress him with your fashion sense or asked to go with him. Even now, you knew that asking you to come and meet sponsors was just a way to look good in other people’s eyes; he even had a suit delivered to him that day. It wasn’t you who was wanted. It was the image of being married to someone. But as his partner, maybe that was the only thing you could do to please your husband.

“Are you ready?” he asked through the door, not daring to step into your room. He never had entered it ever since you moved in, and you wondered if it was because he disliked you so much or because he feared you were ‘dirty’. But you gave yourself an encouraging nod in the mirror, quickly making your way out. “All done!”

You didn’t expect him to stand right in front of the closed door as you opened it, almost running into him but stopping at the last second. “Do I look fine?” you asked, noticing him appraising you over the rim of his white mask. He looked comically like that, suited up yet wearing gloves and mask as if he was going to clean, but even so, you had to give it to his looks that he was handsome. You didn’t doubt your own attractiveness, but the curt, “It’s alright,” he muttered did sting.

»»———————— ♡

Had you known how exhausting these kinds of events were, you would have almost been thankful that he never took you with him before. Giving it all you had sure was taxing when you never did it before, but you wanted oh-so-badly to be accepted by Kiyoomi’s side. You didn’t even notice your own mental exhaustion until you finally had a chance to sit down.

Alone, again.

Maybe you simply weren’t fit for this kind of life. You didn’t know much about volleyball, and there were many weird insider jokes you didn’t understand. Everyone appeared so friendly, some faces still familiar from the wedding, yet you couldn’t help but notice the pity in their eyes. They were all thinking the same thing, you were sure. Just how pitiful you were to be so unluckily married to a man who never seemed interested in what you two had.

“What’s the long face for, hm?” you suddenly heard a cheerful voice, something cold being pressed to your cheek and startling you. You looked up in confusion, only to be blinded by a warm and cheerful grin, the light of the room being reflected through a water bottle and accentuating his features even more.

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, reaching up for the drink he held out to you. “I didn’t see you coming, Atsumu-san. I’m sorry, I was in thoughts...”

“No offense, but you don’t seem to have much fun,” he sighed, plopping down next to you. “It’s such a shame Omi-Omi never shows you off, yer so cute, you know? Makes it much easier to endure parties like these!”

Laughing it off, you found yourself mesmerized by how carefree Atsumu seemed. To you, all of this was a big deal, and you had always assumed it was the same for everyone. But apparently, more people shared your sentiment of the time seemingly dragging out. Without noticing, you chuckled, and Atsumu’s eyes flitted over to you before he straightened his back briefly, crossing his legs. Smirk falling over his lips, you almost caught yourself gasping at how gorgeous he looked in the ambient lighting around you two.

“That’s much better. Ya should laugh more!”

Feeling the warmth spread through your face, you quickly cleared your throat, looking away as to not stare. For a moment there, you thought he really looked like an angel, making you feel at peace around him. “I just- You know- You call him Omi-Omi?” you changed the topic quickly, trying to hide the awestruck expression on your face by hiding behind your hand a bit.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Wouldn’t recommend it, he doesn’t really like it, but it’s fun teasing him, ya know? He gets all-” Reaching up, Atsumu pushed his brows together and put on his best impression of Kiyoomi. “‘Don’t call me that, you Idiot. Work on your serve if you have so much time.’ That’s what he says to me! I’m just trying to be friendly...”

Shaking your head slowly, you couldn’t hold back your laugh as you listened to him gush on about your husband treating him ‘unfairly’. Part of you felt sad having to hear it from a third person, never having been able to collect experiences with him yourself. Still, you were also relieved to see he wasn’t just treating you so coldly. “You’re so funny, Atsumu-san,” you chuckled, and he finally stopped talking, relaxing next to you after his tirade.

“There we go,” he mumbled, and you felt his hand fall to your head, giving it some pats. It made your heart grow to receive the affection, slowly but surely making you realize you had been missing fooling around and laughing or even being touched gently for a change. “Don’t let him get to you, ya hear me? Or I’ll come and kick his ass for you!”

“Who’s ass are you kicking?” you both were suddenly interrupted, and knowing the voice, you looked up. Shame hitting you, you stood up, Atsumu’s hand falling from you as you slipped out from under it, facing your husband cautiously. “Kiyoomi, you’re back!” you mumbled, wondering if your mood change was too noticeable. “Yeah, we’re leaving,” he announced, ready to go.

“Don’t just go around touching other people’s spouses, Atsumu,” he warned his colleague sharply, his arm coming around your back. Still, not even the tip of his glove touched you, much less gentle than Atsumu did.

“Mood-killer,” you heard Atsumu complain. “Good night, [Name]!” he called after you, and you graced him with a brief smile thrown over your shoulder, waving after him while you let yourself be led out by your husband.

»»———————— ♡

The ride home was almost as tiring as the evening itself, and the streetlights passing you as you looked out the window weren’t enough to keep you awake. It was a long drive, but the next thing you noticed was a warm body carrying you upstairs from the garage. “Bastard,” you heard a voice, slowly but surely regaining your senses.

“Kiyoomi?” you asked meekly, rubbing your eyes. Blinking a few times, when you looked up, you were met with a disgusted glare staring down at you, instantly making you shrivel into yourself. A flight instinct set in, and only now you noticed he was carrying you through the hallway of your house, not bothering being gentle with the bathroom door once he reached it.

He seemed furious and disgusted, and at least one of these were emotions you had never seen him make before. You almost expected him to drop you into the bathtub as you found yourself hovering over it, but he set you down gently. Nonetheless, the sudden stream of cold water hit you like a slap in the face as he turned on the shower without even a moment of hesitation. It grew warmer quickly, but you found yourself weirded out as your clothes began to stick to you. Kiyoomi, too, barely took off his blazer before kneeling down next to the tub, reaching for the shampoo standing close by.

It was in no way gentle or comfortable as he rubbed it onto your head, the gloves he wore not helping at all. You began to splutter as you had to close your eyes, soap going everywhere on your face. “Where else did he touch?” Kiyoomi asked, almost too calm for the fact it felt like he was trying to press the shampoo into your head rather than wash you. “No- Nowhere!” you complained, ducking out from his touch and wiping away soap from your face. “What are you doing?!”

“I don’t believe you,” was all the answer you received to your question. “Tell me. Now. Don’t make this harder for us.”

“What...” you muttered, flinching as you felt his hands fall to your body, grabbing your clothes. “What’s wrong with you!” you finally yelled, swatting his hands away harder than you wished you did. Finally, you got the time to wash off the soap and open your eyes again, feeling ill-treated and confused by his actions. Though despite the warm water, as you finally managed to look at him again, you felt your body freeze.

You thought you knew how he looked at you all this time. Disappointed, disapproving, and disgusted, but this time it was different. He looked at you as if you just ripped his heart out and claimed he was fine like that, and that hurt almost more than any look before. But in the next moment, it was gone, just like a snap of his fingers, and he grabbed your wrist, tightly and unbudging even if you complained. “Try that again, Sweetheart, I dare you.”

Blinking a few times, you couldn’t decide what was scarier; seeing him for the first time up close, face only inches from yours and without the mask, which usually gave some more distance between you two, or having him threaten you. Kiyoomi never talked more than a few words with you at a time, nor did he show any interest in anything you did. “Slap my hand away again, and I will make sure you can’t use it for a long time, you understand? Don’t you know by now who you belong to?”

His questions were so clear, yet in your head, they made no sense. Who did you belong to? Who was it?

“Y-You?” you eventually muttered. “Do I belong to you?”

A question as stupid as it sounded, and yet, it eased Kiyoomi’s rage, it seemed. “That’s right,” he confirmed. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine ever since we met for the first time, don’t ever forget that. I am the only one that is allowed to touch you and no one else. Especially no sleazy bastards like Atsumu.”

“Kiyoomi...”

“Undress,” he interrupted you. “I have to clean you.”

Hesitating, you gripped your own clothes. Never before had you heard him talk like that, especially not about you. You never even believed he could have those thoughts about you, and after being unloved for so long, they felt like bandaids to your wounds. Mind you, not strong bandaids, no. They didn’t even manage to heal you partially, but who were you to complain. Because, what Kiyoomi said...

“Okay,” you whispered, slowly stripping out of your clothes. “I’m sorry... Omi.”

You were stretching your luck, but you were so close to tears as he placed his hand on top of your head. It wasn’t like Atsumu’s. It wasn’t gentle, and it didn’t fill your core with happiness. No, it pressed you down, making you lower your head and feel so insignificant compared to its greatness. But it was Kiyoomi’s. The person you wanted to be loved and caressed by the most.

“It’s okay,” he sighed, and for once, his voice sounded almost gentle and forgiving after you did something. His hand stayed as his free one helped you get out of your clothes, and laying your own hand on top of his, you felt his warmth for the first time, no glove separating you two.

And to this day, you still remember wondering if what Kiyoomi said meant that he loved you too.

Even if that meant you were living in the worst kind of relationship possible.

[You can find the prompt list here]

[conduitandconjurer]

sorry this got long, so keep scrolling if you aren’t in a headspace for a mutual to vent ooc. 

i’m upset for stupid reasons that, i think, go back to bigger or deeper things IRL.

i’m upset that i’ve been too busy as my mother’s sole caretaker OR playing frantic catch-up at work (i’m a professor and it involves a LOT of grading, lecturing, reading, and writing, and frankly extracurricular things like counseling and reporting concerns about students’ emotional or physical safety) to do things like shower, sleep 7-8 hours a night, eat as healthily as i should, exercise, and most of all, do ANYTHING creative to my own satisfaction. it has been more than a WEEK since i have showered! it has been since JUNE since i have even started a complete, finished, full-color artwork. 

yeah, i know the positivity drill: “you create things for your own joy, not to be good at them.” but i only enjoy making things (image or word) that i can do with a certain degree of thoroughness and depth. i don’t like to half-ass anything. there’s also executive dysfunction borne of crippling anxiety and depression, which are more situational (C-PTSD) than the result of brain chemistry.

so i’m mad. i’m sad. i’m lonely. i’m tired. i want to just have some semblance of a normal adult life. i have not had a normal life since i was diagnosed with an incurable, progressively worsening illness AT AGE SIX. and i have let it get MUCH worse (my kidneys, stomach, eyes, lymph nodes, and blood vessels are all so badly damaged that there is no fixing them, there is just praying they don’t get worse, and now all sensation in my hands is going too: i can barely type this) because i’ve had to take over for my mother (no, insurance won’t help us, believe me, i’ve looked into it: she’s on dialysis but somehow “not sick enough”) and i have NO TIME to see my OWN doctors and do the necessary lifestyle changes to make MYSELF any better. i want to take a shower, and have energy to do anything after that. i want to go on a date. hell, i have a new boyfriend, but i find dating him to be a chore that i dread because i am so fucking drained by the end of the week that I’d rather just go to bed. 

i want to be selfish. i just want to be SELFISH for ONE DAY. 

but i know that’s not realistic.  i mean i live in a world where everyone, EVERYONE, that i know, has just gone back to attending major events maskless, even though COVID is still surging. people like me are apparently expendable; we’re “sick anyway,” so if we die, it’s “expected.”  we get left behind and NO ONE NOTICES. 

i won’t be able to do Sheehantober/Sheetober, whatever it’s called, that super cool thing with all the creative prompts. 

i won’t be able to draw/paint the entire notebook of ideas i’ve had waiting for “free time” since last february.

i won’t have time to answer my drafts here, that have been sitting since may.

i won’t be able to even catch up on Discord threads, and I CAN’T EVEN FIND THE TIME TO CELEBRATE KLAUS’S BIRTHDAY WITH GOOFY LIGHT HEARTED SIMPLE THINGS. I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT IT ENTIRELY. 

but honestly THAT DOESN’T MATTER EITHER, because i haven’t had the time to form many meaningful connections with people (aside two lovely souls who know who they are) in this fandom, and nobody inboxes me or responds to my open starters anyway.  plus if they did, i’d probably be too sick or tired to do a thing about it. 

mom just spilled perishable stuff all over the kitchen floor trying to get her own food, so now i have to go mop that up even though my sciatica is so bad that i’m sweating. this weekend, i have to somehow find time to get a house cleaner, inventory and remove extra dialysis supplies (32 HEAVY boxes to cover), find and buy a table with very specific parameters to hold a dialysis cycler, etc etc etc). a day in the life. 

and you think, “can’t you ask somebody to help?” friend, if you say that, you have never experienced TRUE chronic illness, and how very quickly people you are close to become “too busy” to help when they have to interact with (noncommunicable!) illness, and acknowledge their OWN mortality.