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sloaneispunk · 28 days ago

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“the carousel”

soft!frontman (hwang in-ho) x you

when frontman planned the ‘mingle’ game, he knew it was set out to kill and eliminate. what he didn’t expect was how much he was willing to compromise when he had someone to lose.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part one

as the games continued, the tension between the players continued to increase. between the ‘x’s and ‘o’s laid a thick, heavy atmosphere. nobody knew who to trust, there had been far too many betrayals for a lifetime.

however, you yourself had one person that you trusted…

young-il.

young-il had approached you after the first game, saying how since you and him were alone you should stick together.

you had your share of skepticism but something drew you in each time you tried to pull away. young-il was just so charming, so charismatic and gentle with you. you had seen how angry he could be when standing up for the rights of each person individually but with you he was just so soft spoken.

when you went to sleep, he would stay by you. either on the edge of your bed keeping watch or laying down beside your headrest staying ever so close to you.

of course you protected him too, maybe not as brave as he was when doing so but you always made sure he was safe and healthy. you would give him extra food and even though he protested, you’d make him eat it anyway.

he loved that you were equally protective and loving towards him as he was to you. he felt a sense of pride whenever you would stand up for him. it made the young boy in him happy and he knew it.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part two

“players please walk in an orderly fashion towards your third game.”

you were walking beside young-il as he had his hand on your back making sure that you were always with him even though you were walking with the rest of the group.

“what game do you think we’ll play now?” you asked, looking up at him.

young-il let out a small chuckle, he loved how it didn’t even sound like you knew how dire the situation you were in was.

“i’m not sure, y/n. what are you hoping it’ll be?” he replied.

“maybe hopscotch, or jump rope.”

“maybe.”

however, when you stepped into the game room, there was a giant carousel in the middle. around it were many doors painted with different colors.

“oh, what is this? a giant carousel, how strange!” jung-bae made a remark, stepping onto the giant platform.

young-il stretched out his hand for you, briefly helping you up beside him once again, you thanked him with a smile.

“the game is ‘mingle’. a song will play as the carousel spins, once the song ends and the movement comes to a stop, a number will be called out. you must then make a team of the number and head into any room of your choice.”

“that sounds easy.” dae-ho said.

“no. it can’t be that simple, it never is.”

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part three

round one

‘round, round, round, round! let’s dance in circles!clap your hands and sing! la-la-la-la let’s have fun dancing!’

the child-like music blasted loudly as the lights started to dim. with a jerk of the platform, it started to spin.

young-il instinctively grabbed your arm, keeping you with him at all cost.

“no matter what happens, do not let go of me. you understand?” he instructed sternly as he turned to face you.

but before you could reply, the platform came to a sudden halt, causing you to stumble and grab onto young-il’s arm.

‘ten.’

then, the music abruptly stopped, a loud jarring alarm now taking its place on the speakers as the lights flashed and flickered.

“we have 6! we need 4 more!” gi-hun shouted as panic started to set in within everyone.

“we’re 4!” player 120 yelled, running towards you with 3 players behind.

“let’s go! yellow door!” young-il shouted, leading the way, his hand still grabbing onto yours.

he flung the door open and carefully led you in, making sure you were okay before going back out, holding the door for the others to enter.

as the timer hit one, he drew the door shut behind him. the lock on it clicking as he looked out.

you joined him as you stood and watched the scene unfold in front of you. it was chaos everywhere. those who were unable to find a team in time were scrambling and screaming, some even on their knees begging for the guards who were now pointing guns at them to spare them.

round two

the door clicked, unlocking itself moments later. you stepped out, met with the sight of blood and dead bodies of players around. young-il came up behind you, holding you close again. “look straight, don’t look down okay?” he whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

‘ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a’

you took in a deep breath as the platform started moving once more. this time everyone looked much more scared, you could see some shaking in fear while others were clearly enjoying themselves, linking arms and dancing in circles like a bunch of lunatics.

“four.”

your eyes shot to young-il. somehow even under the blinding flashes of lights, he looked just as handsome.

“you four go! me and y/n will find two more!” he shouted over the chaos.

“are you sure?!” gi-hun asked, skeptical to leave his friends.

“yes, go!”

with that, the six of you split ways. the four easily finding a room. gi-hun however was nervous. what if you couldn’t find a room in time? what if you couldn’t find more people?

“young-il, split up, i get one you get one!” you shouted, pulling back.

“no! y/n, don’t-”

but you didn’t listen. you knew that if you went together you wouldn’t be able to find two people in time.

“pink door! room twenty! i’ll meet you there!” you said and took off, running the opposite direction, leaving him no choice but to do as you asked.

you frantically looked everywhere for another person, it was hard to find someone that hasn’t already been dragged away by a team. then, you spotted a boy being kicked back by the two dancing lunatics.

you ran as fast as you could to him, grabbing him by the arm and leading him to room twenty. there young-il was already inside, holding open the door for you to enter.

as soon as your feet stepped inside, he shut the door tight behind you.

“my god, what were you thinking?! are you insane?!” he gently scolded, his head in his hands as he ruffled his hair.

“look, i’m okay!” you smiled, “and what did i tell you? it’s way faster that way.”

young-il let out a sigh of disbelief, rolling his eyes and he took his hands out of yours. just in time to save the two poor people in the same room, the door opened.

the boy you had saved mumbled a small ‘thank you’ before he took off, leaving you and young-il in the room alone.

“i’m sorry, i just wanted to help you.” you apologised.

“y/n, i was scared you weren’t going to come back.” he said, almost like a whisper. he walked over to you, pulling you into a hug.

“i’m sorry i-”

“don’t apologise, it’s okay. you’re a strong girl right? i knew you could do it.” he lightly chuckled, pulling away.

you offered him a smile in return, grabbing his hand again before leaving the room.

“there you guys are! we were worried sick!” a familiar voice said.

there, gi-hun and the team ran towards you, jung-bae engulfing young-il in a tight hug while dae-ho pulled you in for one too.

“hey, i’m a very likeable person. i do well in these games.” young-il joked, purposefully glancing at you, giving you a wink.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part four

round three

‘ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, lets’s hold hands together, let’s have fun together’

‘three’

“how do you wanna do it?” you asked gi-hun who had a panic stricken look on his face.

“jung-bae, dae-ho and me! you, young-il and jun-hee!”

without question, young-il grabbed your arm again, dashing towards the nearest door before anyone could enter. he was so quick you almost couldn’t grab jun-hee’s hand in time.

after making sure everyone settled in safely unharmed, you immediately rushed to jun-hee’s side.

“was that too rough? did i hurt you? how’s your stomach?” you asked as she stood in the corner trying to catch her breath.

young-il watched without saying a word. he was immediately in a trance just by watching you, seeing you so gentle and kind towards people in need. it made him regret recruiting a kind soul like you into the game. he knew right then that it was either you or the game, especially once you found out exactly who he was.

round four

“how many more rounds do we have to play? i’m getting exhausted.” you said practically collapsing onto young-il as the platform stopped suddenly, not giving time for you to recover before the game started again.

“six.”

you were so exhausted you couldn’t even process everything that was happening, all you knew was that young-il was leading you by your hand straight into another room where you were met with familiar faces, the old lady’s team… but someone was missing.

1,2,3,4,5…

…player 095

“where is she?!” you asked, suddenly aware of the situation.

you could hear young-il’s voice telling you to stay in place and that he would go out and look for her but you ignored him, pulling open the door.

there you saw her on the floor, crying for help. but before you could step out, someone pushed you back into the room, knocking you back and locking the door behind him.

you felt a pair of hands immediately grab onto your stomach, catching you before you fell. young-il pulled you back, your body flush against him as the boy turned around, just as the timer hit zero and the door locked itself.

“nonono what did you do?!” player 120 shouted at him, shoving him to look out the hole. “young-mi! young-mi! no!”

“i just saved your lives! she wouldn’t have made it in time anyway!” he scoffed back.

“unnie!” young-mi cried, the pain in her voice piercing everyone’s heart.

“young-il.” you cried, turning to face away from the heartbreaking sight. you could still hear her cries as you buried your head into young-il’s chest. his arms wrapping around your body as he tried to comfort you.

then, there was a silent gunshot and the cries stopped.

for the first time, young-il felt a sense of guilt from the games. a stinging wave of sadness spread throughout his whole being.

maybe it was holding your shaking and exhausted body, or hearing your cries that made him soft again. he wasn’t sure whether to hate you or love you for it.

when the doors opened, everyone was still in a state of shock and grief.

“c’mon, it’s okay, it’s almost over.” he said softly as he guided you back onto the carousel.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part five

final round

“it’s two.” young-il said coldly, looking around.

“how do you know?” you asked.

“at least a hundred people left, fifty rooms. they’re going to make us fight for it, that’s what they do…”

‘two’

without wasting a second, you and young-il ran towards the closest room.

this round was the more vicious and violent, everyone threw away their morales. there were some kicking others out of rooms, dragging teams away.

you must not have been paying attention because just as you were about to enter the room, right behind young-il, a pair of hands grabbed you from your waist, lifting you in the air and throwing you aside causing you to scream young-il’s name.

young-il whipped his head around, seeing you land on the floor, hitting your head in the process. rage fueled him as he pounced onto the man, giving you time to go into the room.

however, you were met with the sight of another man.

“get out.” you told him.

“no! we were here first!” he shouted back.

just then, young-il came running in, shutting the door behind him. when he saw another person in the room, he was fast to react, launching himself at the man.

“hey fuckin’ let me in!” a voice yelled from the outside.

you jumped into action, pressing your back towards the door, holding it shut while others tried to come in.

you looked up at the timer in the room.

10 seconds

young-il knew exactly what to do, he just wondered if it was the right thing to do in front of you. but as seconds passed, he knew for certain what he had to do if he wanted you to survive.

he grabbed the man by the neck, keeping him in a headlock

you could see the fear in the man’s eyes

the man started choking

his legs started to thrash around

he was fighting for every breath he could take

young-il’s grip tightened

‘crack’

silence filled the room

your eyes were wide open in shock as you waited for young-il to break the silence.

“y/n, i’m so sorry.” he finally said, putting down the now lifeless body onto the ground as he made his way to you.

you were beyond taken aback with the sight that was in front of you, hand over your mouth as you started to breathe quickly.

“hey, no, no. please don’t be scared. it’s me, y/n, it’s okay.” he said with that same gentle voice of his when he was talking to you, just not in a situation like this.

he took your hand away from your face, bringing it down and held your face in his hands.

“look at me please.” he said, his voice now so, so soft, almost as if he was pleading.

you blinked away tears as you slowly looked at young-il, staring deep into his brown eyes.

“thatta girl, it’s okay… i did what i had to do to keep you safe…” he said. “that’s what i promised you right?”

you nodded.

he leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead before stepping back. he wiped away your tears with his hands before taking your hand in his again, leading you out as the game came to an end.

what the fuck just happened?

#squidgame season 2 #squidgame #squid game #inho x you #inho x reader #hwang inho #frontman x you #frontman x reader #frontman #front man #lee byun hun x you #lee byun hun x reader

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lightseoul · 13 days ago

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a/n. pleasantly surprised at how quickly i wrote this bit, it practically wrote itself. glad the first part was interesting for a lot of you—i love writing about psych/therapy stuff (despite my complex relationship with 'em), and ofc bkg <3 i honestly don't know where i'm going with this, but it's been fun so far. (0.8k)

navigation. part 1, (you are here), part 3

thankfully—and to the relief of whatever dignity he had left—that interaction was short-lived.

well, it’s mostly because after you blinked at him for what felt like a torturous eternity and said a shaky hello back, he gave you a curt nod as if he wasn’t the one who just initiated the exchange and bolted it out of there without a single glance back.

that bit haunted him for the next few days, reappearing in his consciousness whenever the topic of therapy or anything remotely close to it was broached. he even snapped at kirishima when the redhead asked how his latest session went during one of their evening patrols together. it was a kneejerk reaction, an entirely out-of-proportion, aggressive response that shocked even him, which says a lot.

he should go ahead and text the guy an apology.

eventually, though, that unfortunate powwow slowly faded into the background of his exceptionally busy mind as the days went on. things got so hectic in the agency that he had to postpone his appointment for the week, which—quite frankly—is an upside to this chaos, because he sure wasn’t pumped about discussing his love life, or the lack thereof, with the jarringly knowing middle-aged lady. being able to definitively avoid you and buy you more time to forget about his stupid social blunder is merely the cherry on top.

okay, maybe the incident didn’t actually slip his mind after all.

“…bakugou-san? are you still with me?”

dazed, bakugou squeezes his eyes shut before fluttering them open, and what greets him is the very same lady against the backdrop of her increasingly familiar office, only this time she’s looking more concerned than perceptive.

right. he’s supposed to be in the middle of a session right now.

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of irrelevant thoughts and focus on the matters at hand. therapy is expensive, after all. “i’m here.”

that doesn’t seem to placate the woman who instead prods, much to his chagrin. “you seem out of it today. is there something in your mind that you want us to talk about?”

for a second, he debates caving and just telling her the dumb shit that happened two weeks ago, but then backtracks when it dawns on him how ridiculous everything is. what is he, a prepubescent boy? he died and survived a major war, for fuck’s sake. why is he so hung up on seeming awkward for once in his life?

even hearing it in his head is embarrassing enough.

that settles it, then. his lips are and will remain sealed.

but then his gaze refocuses on his therapist, and the sheer ‘unconditional positive regard’ or whatever the crap is called that she’s radiating becomes so palpable that it just spills out of him.

“i fucked up.”

that makes the lady frown—which, if he thinks about it, is understandable, because he rarely opens up about his failures, let alone this blatantly—although she manages to quickly school her expression into a more neutral one. “can i ask you to expound on it?”

at that, bakugou sighs, because it’s either he just tells the laughable truth or actually cite one of his actual mistakes—which he’s not feeling right now, by the way. or he can expertly maneuver the conversation to another topic, but something tells him there’s no getting out of the current subject. maybe today, there is, but it’ll surely loom over their next sessions indefinitely until either of them revisits it.

he should know. it’s happened to him too many times, he’s lost count.

with this realization, he can only sigh again.

“it’s stupid,” he preempts.

“i’d like to hear it regardless,” comes her classic, supportive response.

and so he does it. talk, that is. it starts off a bit rough—he didn’t know how to even begin without flushing like an idiot, but he managed to get the brief anecdote going. he still ended up blushing anyway—the warmth in his cheeks was undeniable—and if she noticed, she gratefully didn’t point it out. by the time he’s finished with the trivial tale, he’s mildly out of breath, having said everything in one continuous burst.

“i told you,” he spits when she doesn’t say anything for a beat. “it’s stupid.”

“i’d normally ask you to reconsider the adjectives you use for yourself and your experiences, but i think you’ve heard enough of that.”

he snorts. damn straight.

the woman then shoots him a smile, and he has to tamp down the reflex to bristle at an impending attempt to placate him. fortunately, it doesn’t come.

what does, instead, is a question.

one that catches him completely off guard.

“did you find her attractive?”

the fuck, is his first, immediate thought.

but then his normally trusty and acute brain seemingly comes to life and promptly supplies a second one that leaves him frozen and utterly dumbfounded.

yes.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

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sdr2lovemail · 11 months ago

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Hi there!

I finally got around to request something for Bill ^⁠_⁠^

Could I get some Bill Cipher x reader headcanons during weirdmageddon? How would it look like being by his side as his s/o? I love this yellow triangle so much-

Have a nice day / night! <3

Being Bill Cipher's partner during Weirdmageddon! (GN Reader)

Notes: I'm surprised in all my time of being in the gravity falls fandom I've never written anything for it. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships

It’s all reliant on if we’re talking about canon Bill or a more fanon version where he’s capable of love. So I’ll write both!

Canon Bill would keep you around more as a plaything than a partner. A trophy, if you will. He’s taken over the world, the Pines were out of his hair, and all he needed now was a prize! And that little prize would be you!

He will poke, push, and prod every one of your buttons until you give him a reaction. Getting angry towards him won’t do anything for you. It’ll just bring him to provoke you more.

Bill would give his henchmaniacs free rein to torment you as long as no fatal harm comes to your body.

Any privacy you thought you had is nonexistent. There are eyes everywhere. Literally!

Now, there’s another side I could imagine. It's a side that’s nicer but still nowhere near friendly. If you were a possible disciple of his, wanting to help him start the end of the world, you’d be treated slightly better.

You’d be more like a servant than a trophy. He would give you more freedom in a way. Like sending you to do tasks that he can’t be bothered to do.

“Hey, disciple. Go run to the never ending forest dimension and send Mother Nature a message. She still owes me something.” There wouldn’t even be time for you to respond before he whisks you away with a snap of his fingers.

Now, moving on to a more romantic version of Bill!

Having been betrothed to the strongest being in the universe, you’ll be absolutely spoiled. Anything across the multiverse is yours. Bill can make it happen!

While he doesn’t need to sleep, he’ll set up a room just for you in the Fearamid. Ever seen a triangle-shaped bed? Well, now you have! The room would be decorated in the gaudiest decorations a demon could think of. I hope you like the color gold, you’ll be seeing it in your nightmares. The room would be soundproof as well. The party isn’t stopping just because Bill’s human needs some rest.

Affection with Bill won’t be typical by human standards. Rather than hugs and gentle touches, he’s a lot more aggressive. Punches on the arm, slaps on the back, and heavy-handed head rubs are more his style. But maybe if you beg, he’ll let you kiss one of his surfaces.

Trips to another dimension are always a fun date idea! You’ll be introduced to species and lands beyond your mortal comprehension. See anything you like here, go ahead and take it back to the Fearamid. What you want is yours to take!

Bill likes to go all out and party. He’s throwing the biggest and most chaotic wedding you’ll ever attend. Any guest that doesn’t bring a nice enough gift is either getting thrown into the worst dimension possible or turned to stone.

Good luck taking that ring off your finger, you’re bound to him for all of eternity!

#bill cipher x reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls #bill cipher #x reader #headcanons

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regressionschool · 2 months ago

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conditioning

Gaming can be an incredibly effective and playful tool for gently encouraging littles to embrace their regression further. By incorporating games into your routine, you can create a fun, immersive environment where they feel safe and carefree, helping them naturally let go of grown-up habits like asking to use the potty. Here’s how you can guide your little one toward relying on their pull-ups—and eventually transitioning back to diapers—with minimal resistance.

Step 1: Set the Scene

Choose a game that’s engaging but not overly stressful. Bright, colorful games with simple mechanics—like racing games, platformers, or anything involving cute animals—work best. Make sure your little feels cozy, either sitting on the floor or cuddled up near you. Outfit them in pull-ups and something adorable like a soft top or onesie to reinforce their little mindset.

Before starting, remind them that this is their playtime to relax and have fun. Let them get fully absorbed in the game so they aren’t thinking too much about their potty needs.

Step 2: Redirect When They Ask

If your little interrupts the game to ask for the potty, gently but firmly redirect them. Smile warmly and say something like, “Oh, sweetie, let’s finish this round first. You’re doing so well!” If they persist, pause the game for just long enough to take them, but introduce a small chore afterward—something simple, like tidying their play area or fetching a snack.

Make the chore a natural part of the routine but slightly boring compared to the fun of gaming. Over time, this will subtly encourage them to think twice about asking for the potty, as they’ll associate it with losing their precious playtime and having to do a task.

Step 3: Positive Reinforcement for Accidents

As your little becomes more absorbed in the game, they’ll likely start trying to hold it longer to avoid interruptions and chores. Inevitably, this will lead to them having little accidents in their pull-ups. When this happens, don’t scold or shame them. Instead, praise them sweetly for being so focused on their game.

Say something like, “Oh, sweetheart, you were so into your game you didn’t even notice, huh? That’s okay! That’s what your pull-ups are for!” Be gentle as you clean them up and maybe even offer a small reward, like an extra round of their favorite game or a sticker for being so ‘little.’

Step 4: Transitioning to Diapers

Once accidents become frequent, introduce the idea of moving back to diapers in a positive, non-threatening way. Hold up a cute diaper with playful designs and say something like, “Since you’ve been doing so well at being my little gamer, I thought you might like these! They’re softer and cozier, and you won’t have to worry about the potty at all anymore.”

Make it sound like a treat rather than a step backward. Emphasize how much easier and more comfortable it’ll be for them during long gaming sessions. By this point, their protests (if any) should be minimal.

#regression school #diaper captions #ab/dl stories #ab/dl caption #ab/dl girl #wetting diaper #diaper stories #diaper bulge #ab/dl diaper #ab/dl

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pencil-n-pen · 1 month ago

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Princess ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

leon kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Being an independent woman and a full time student is all fun and games until final’s season. Luckily, your not-quite academic rival Leon Kennedy is there to pick you up when you fall.

cw: Female pronouns and description used for reader but nothing detailed (no skin color, eye color, hair type, body type, etc.) This is basically just an x reader for my independent eldest daughters who do nothing but their absolute best all the time everyday and deep down want a hot guy with beefy arms to let them relax for a minute. So i guess expect the related issues that come with being an eldest daughter?

Tags/tropes: hurt/comfort, dom! leon if you squint, leon’s very touchy, leon being a gentleman!! probably ooc, i kinda struggled finding his voice :/

wc: 3.3k

a/n: wowee so i’m not rlly looking to be a full time author or anything but i could NOT get this idea out of my head and i figured i could give back to the tumblr fic community <3 here’s to everyone who wants hurt/comfort without smut, incest, or a needlessly specific reader! hope everyone’s recovering well from finals!

— ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

The first time it happened, it honestly, truly, was an accident. A mistake, if you will. You would never willingly fall asleep on a random guy at a party. That is all kinds of bad for a number of reasons.

However. There were some… extenuating circumstances.

Finals. They’re a make-or-break for the first semester. Mostly just a break. In the sense that you contemplated how upset your parents would be at you if you dropped out and if the subsequent disowning would be worth it.

You did finals the same way you did everything. You worked. Studied. Borderline obsessed over it. Romanticized it so you could push through when the other’s resolve started dropping. Stayed home. Your friends bemoaned your “no-fun attitude” but they’re crying over their grades and you’re not, so.

Well. Actually you’re definitely crying over your grades, almost every day in fact. But not because they’re bad. Just because you’re tired. Really tired. The kind of tired that makes people have public breakdowns. But you can’t afford to have a public breakdown because you have to succeed at college and you have to work in order to stay on top of your bills and be able to send some money home to your family and make sure you have time to call your parents and make time for your sister to call you and vent because you didn’t have a you at her age and you wish you did so you have to be there for her and your friends need you to be there for them not to mention planning for how you’re going to use your degree after you graduate and—

Most of the time you try not to think about it.

So finals were over. And everyone wanted to celebrate. And you did, you promise. You’re totally the party girl type. Totally. (Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll come true?)

You don’t hate parties. You like dressing up and going out. It’s fun! It’s just… not your idea of an unwind. Not after you nearly ran yourself into the ground for a month straight for the sake of academic validation. You’d prefer to sleep for 72 hours straight. And maybe watch a movie at home in the sweatshirt you cried over your textbooks in. Maybe over a glass of wine? You’re not really sure. Relaxing never really goes well for you. It’s either depression-bed-rotting or full productivity.

Needless to say, you weren’t exactly thrilled to find yourself at this party. You’re not really sure how your friends convinced you.

But you’re here, in makeup and an outfit you like (you’re thankful this isn’t one of the ‘put on a tight dress and dance’ parties) and you just honestly want to go to bed. It’s a house party, so it’s not nearly as crazy as some of the other parties you’ve been (read: dragged) to, but still.

You’re on the couch, ignoring the smell of alcohol in the air and pretending the pounding baseline of the music coming from the speaker in the kitchen isn’t starting to give you a headache.

Ada Wong, a girl you’ve hesitantly dubbed your party friend, is sitting on your left, while the guy you can never quite tell what he is to her, is sitting on your right.

Leon Kennedy.

On a good day, Leon Kennedy is a smart, brooding, annoyingly capable guy who you share some of your classes with. On a bad day, he’s the bane of your existence. On a really bad day, you fantasize about all the ways you could kill him and turn the experience into a really good term paper.

It’s complicated. You’re smart. He’s smart. You tend to clash because neither of you like backing down from a challenge.

But right now, in this moment, at this party, the only thing you can think about is how fucking tired you are and how warm he is.

The music is so loud it drowns everything out in your brain. The few thoughts that make it through the overwhelm of sound are fuzzy and staticky. The cling and slip around in your head like syrup. The worst parts about parties are, funnily enough, working to cancel out the main reason you can’t fall asleep in your own bed at night: overthinking.

That and the fact that you haven’t sleep in forty-eight hours. An energy drink and an iced coffee count as a full nights sleep, right? You’re sure the heart palpitations are normal.

You manage to keep up with the steady flow of the group conversation, but as the night wears on, talking becomes harder and harder and just plain processing the words being said slowly turns into an impossible task. At some point, someone else squeezed onto the couch— you think it might be Chris? Ada did say he was coming late— so now you’re pressed against the one and only Leon Kennedy, and he’s radiating heat like a furnace.

Like you, he opted for a slightly more casual approach to the house party. Of course, he’s a guy, so his wardrobe was probably never that big, but still. It’s nice to see someone else in a sweatshirt and jeans.

You at least put on your favorite jeans! You call them your hot jeans, for self explanatory reasons. So what if you’re wearing an oversized sweatshirt? It’s cold!

You jolt in place, not realizing your eyes had slipped close and the conversation had continued on without you. Something prickles in the back of your head. An instinctual sort of thing.

Don’t fall asleep in public places.

Don’t fall asleep at someone’s house you don’t know.

You know the owner of the house, you think. You’ve been here once or twice. But you don’t know everyone at the party and where your friends have gone because they’re not in the group talking here and you should probably stand up soon, to wake yourself up, don’t let your friends down, don’t be that girl who falls asleep at the party, don’t—

You jolt again.

Wake up. You tell yourself. Leon’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye, but you ignore it.

It feels like a record skip. You’ll blink, and the conversation isn’t the same as when you first closed your eyes. The song isn’t the same. Were the lights always this bright?

“Whew!” Ada whistles from above. When did she stand up? “Someone’s got final’s exhaustion written all over their face!”

The group laughs and you do too, but it sounds different. Leon doesn’t. Why isn’t he laughing?

You jolt again. Harder this one. A full body shake. You wince as your knee knocks into Leon’s.

“Sorr—“

“Stop that.” He grumbles, and oh. A warm, solid hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Closed to that warm, stupidly comfortable side.

This is wrong. It’s Leon. It’s Leon. You can’t. And this is a party, and your friends are here—

“Stop being stupid,” You can feel his chest rumble from where your cheek is pressed flush against it, and when did that happen? He picks up your left arm and drapes it across his stomach, then picks up your right arm and wraps it around his lower pack. “Squeeze.”

You listen, and wow. Who has time to go to the gym this much and be an academic rival? You feel like you’re slacking. Maybe you need to make time to get some—

“I can hear you thinking,” He says, voice deep and rumbly. It’s honestly a miracle you can hear him over the music. It’s probably because your face is pressed against his chest. If you strain, you can feel the dull thud of his heart.

“You have a heart?” You say, half-delirious with exhaustion. It comes out more as a question than a statement

“Mhm,” He rumbles. “I am in possession of one. Great observation princess.”

You frown into his chest. “Why are you always so mean? You call me that stupid name. I’m not a princess.”

“I’m not mean. Whoever said princess was a mean nickname? You decided that on your own.”

“Then how come you call me that?”

“Because,” He huffs, repositioning to a more slouched position that’s more comfortable for your neck. The arm tightens around your waist.

It’s nice. It’s possessive. Protective. No one’s ever really done that for you before. Usually it’s you doing the protecting.

You don’t want to relax. You can’t. You can’t.

“Because,” He continues, “Princesses need to be taken care of. Especially smart, stubborn princesses who never pause for one second. Not even when they should.”

You should get up. Apologize for how weird you’re being. Have another coffee or energy drink. Join the party. Do something that isn’t this.

“Go to sleep,” He says, his voice like a warm blanket settling and slipping into your mind. “Nothing‘s going to happen to you while I’m here. No one is going to be mad at you for sleeping. And if they are, I’ll kick their ass. Go to sleep.”

It’s easy to give in after that.

You sag, boneless. Like a puppet with it’s strings cut. You inhale deeply, breathing in the deep, rich scent that’s distinctly Leon.

Just for a few minutes. Because Leon’s watching. He won’t let something happen to you. Just for a few minutes. You’ll get up soon. You will.

He tucks you closer to him. “Sleep.”

You’re out like a light.

—

“No way, she’s actually asleep?”

“Holy shit Leon, did you drug her?”

“I did not.”

“Well, thanks, for whatever weird magic-spell you cast. Seriously. We’re all starting to get worried about her. She doesn’t take any breaks and she doesn’t let anyone help. Last week a librarian found her asleep on the printer. Fully standing.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to start inviting you to our apartment if it means she’ll actually get some fucking sleep. It’s unsettling finding her in the same position as when I left like, six hours beforehand.”

“Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”

—

It’s horrific, running into him in the library.

What makes it more horrible is the fact that you’re ugly crying silently in the English textbook section, because it’s always empty. You’re ugly crying in the English textbook section of the university library and Leon Kennedy just walked into the aisle.

You sniff, lifting your head from your knees to stare up at him from the ground. He has a knack for finding you at your lowest, it would seem.

“We’ve got to stop seeing each other like this, princess.”

“Oh?” You sniff hard, running a hand across your face as if that will clear up your red rimmed, puffy eyes, the tear tracks on your face, or the flush on your nose. The action at least wipes away the snot. “I wasn’t aware you ever fell asleep on me at a party. Did I ever find you crying in the English textbook section of the library?”

He tilts his head. “Why the English textbook section? It’s one of your best subjects.”

“It’s the emptiest section. Plus, anyone looking for an English textbook at this hour isn’t going to bat an eye at me.” You wrap your arms around your legs and hug them to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“One of your roommates called Ada. They said you haven’t been home since this morning. They thought you might’ve been at hers, or with me.”

You snort. “It’s like they don’t even know me.”

He rolls his eyes. “I think they were hoping you’d be there. I think anyone who knows you knew you’d be here.”

“Crying in the English section?”

“In the library, dumbass.”

He stalks forward, leaning back against the bookshelf across from you and sliding his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

“Tell me. Is your pathological avoidance to asking for help conscious or not?”

You kick out, one shoed foot catching him in the shins. “Dick.”

He shrugs. “Just want to know. I can’t exactly gloat over scoring two points above you if you’re not in top form. I want a fair fight.”

“Is that what you're here for?” You ask suddenly, everything in your body going rigid. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” He says calmly. “I’m here because you’re being stupid again. You know what’s not healthy, or smart?”

He gestures to you. You, sitting on the floor, tears drying on your face. “This. Going out to parties to make your friends happy when you should be at home, sleeping. Studying for so long you end up looking like your boyfriend of eight years just broke up with you. Come on, princess. Where’s those brains you brag about?”

“They’re up here,” You tap your forehead. Against your will, your eyes burn, tears welling up, your face tightening. “And they’re tired.”

You drop your head into your hands, forgoing your silent crying of earlier in the place of open mouth sobbing. You can’t help it. You’re just so tired. So done with it all. With trying to keep up, with trying to make space, with trying to make time. With doing your best and it not being enough. You’re tired of being tired.

“Annnd there it is. Come here.”

He lowers himself to the floor next to you, tucking you close in a similar fashion as that night at the party.

“Come on, same thing as before. Hold onto me. Give yourself a minute.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, same way as last time, burying your face into his shoulder. Someone could see. Someone you know might see you crying and think—

He reaches a hand up and pulls the hood of your sweatshirt over your head.

“There. Now no one can see your face. Stop worrying. Just cry, princess.”

You sniffle. “I’m getting snot on your sweatshirt.”

“It’s had worse on it.”

“Gross.”

You can practically feel the eye roll. “Can you stop being dirty-minded and focus on something productive? Like crying? Or not crying, if that would make you feel better.”

You shift, so your head is lying against his shoulder instead of smashed into it like before.

“Why do you care if I feel better?”

Why do you care?

He shrugs against you.

“Told you,” He pushes your hood back a bit, tapping you on the forehead with his pointer finger. “My competition’s no fun if she’s not taking care of herself. How else is she gonna kick my ass?”

“I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to swoop in here, Leon.”

“Mhm,” He says. “And i’m sure you do great at it, considering you’re still alive and kicking my ass at those stupid socratic seminars. Consider this… self-care. In the face mask, getting your nails done way.”

“Who taught you self care?”

“Ada. We have face mask nights.”

You jolt up. “Is she—“

“She’s not my girlfriend, we’re not fucking, no she’s not going to be upset or care in any way about this. Calm down.”

You begrudgingly settle back against him.

“If anything,” He continues. “She’ll be excited to see you at more parties in the coming months.”

You frown. “I never said—“

“You only go to parties if your friends physically drag you or when you feel confident enough in your grades and the general state of your life. It’s really easy to tell which version of you shows up to the party. It’s the way you dress.”

“How so?”

He shifts slightly. Guilt twinges in your stomach as you realize how uncomfortable he must be.

“You wear your pick-me-up pants when you’re dragged there. The ones that make your ass look great.”

You sit up with a gasp. “My hot pants?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you call them?”

Your brain catches up to the rest of what he said. “Hold on. Did you just say—“

“I said what I said. I’m assuming there’s a reason you call them your hot pants.”

He smirks, and you flush.

“Moving onto more pressing matters,” He tilts his head at you. “You have two options this evening. Either I take you back to your place and you sleep in your own bed, or you come to my place and we binge watch the Oceans movies until you fall asleep.”

“How did you know I like the—“

“The icebreaker for club thing. You said they were your favorite movies.”

You look up at him. “You remembered?”

“You were wearing your hot jeans.”

“You’re the worst.”

He scans your face for a moment, eyes sparking with mirth and a little something less innocent. “Maybe.”

You sigh and lean back against him, exhaustion from all your crying hitting you at once.

“Nuh-uh, no sleeping here. You gotta pick one. My place or yours?”

You frown into his shoulder. “Ugh. Fine. Yours, but only because I wanna watch the Ocean’s movies. You better not have a disgusting frat house.”

“I do not. I do have popcorn and ice cream.”

“Ada bought those, didn’t she?”

“Nope,” He says, nudging you with his shoulder to stand. You clamber in gracefully to your feet, your head starting to pound. “Chris likes to have movie nights. It pays to be well stocked.”

Your cheeks warm as a large, steadying hand finds its way to the small of your back. “How many of my friends are you friends with?”

“I was friends with them first.”

“Ass.”

He chuckles incredulously. “For having friends?”

“Yes,” You say, letting him pull you to his side while you walk to your table where you left your stuff. Probably not the best idea to leave your entire net-worth unattended, but whatever. You were going through it. “How dare you.”

“Mmm. I see. My apologies, princess. I’ll tell Chris and Ada.”

“You get on that.”

You can’t help but smile as he helps you pack up your things, passing you items across the table and carefully zipping up your pencil case.

“Don’t touch my papers, I have a system.”

“Is the system absolute chaos?”

“Shut up.”

Once everything is packed up, you zip up your backpack, but before you can sling it on, Leon’s arm darts out and snags it right out from under you.

Your expression grows pinched. “I can carry my own bag, Leon.”

“I know you can.”

“Give me my bag.”

“No.”

You groan. “Why do you want to carry my bag?”

“See, there’s this thing called chivalry—“

“Oh my god, shut up. When have you and chivalry ever been synonymous?”

He shrugs. “Ever since I met the girl in the hot jeans who regularly kicks my ass academically.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Mmm,” He hums, wrapping an arm around your waist and walking you towards the doors to the library. “And you’re stubborn. Come on. Brad Pitt and George Clooney are waiting for you.”

You sigh dramatically, hiding a small smile in your hand.

Maybe you could get used to this.

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 6 months ago

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Eleven.

previous chapter (10). series masterlist. the playlist.

chapter synopsis - There’s no denying it anymore - not that you’d want to. You and Bucky fit together in every sense of the word.

pairing - dads bestfriend!bucky barnes x female reader - soulmate au

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. harassment, and then conversations surrounding past incidents of harassment. bucky calls reader a whore (not viciously).

word count - 5.3k

authors note - this is a long one!! I got a bit carried away with the smut, but honestly… it was a little overdue. I needed bucky and honey to get a little down and dirty sometime soon, and there’s no time like the present. as always - your love and support is invaluable to me, and i’d be nowhere without it. love you <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

masterlist. inbox.

Your hips sway gently to the music that plays as you watch your own reflection in the mirror. Sweeping a makeup brush across your cheeks, you laugh as Bucky presses open mouthed kisses to your bare shoulder.

“Getting ready takes ten times longer when you’re here, you know.”

Your soulmate laughs, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling your back into his chest as he sways with you.

“You love it,” he murmurs into your ear. “You got a lifetime of this, honey. Get used to it.”

“God help me,” you giggle, squealing as he pinches your side. “I’m never going to get anywhere on time ever again, am I?”

“Worth it though.”

He winks at you in the mirror, and you can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. Spinning in his arms, you lean up to press a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Luckily for you, Lacie is the worst person at being on time. I actually don’t think she’s been punctual to anything, ever. You have to tell her six if you want her to be there at eight.”

“I like her more every time you tell another story.”

“I feel like I should warn you.”

“Uh oh.”

You fight back the smile threatening to take over your face.

“She means well. She’s got a heart of gold, and good intentions always. She’s just… blunt, sometimes. She doesn’t mess around, or avoid the tough conversations. She’ll always tell you exactly how it is. And sometimes that can come across as rudeness, or that she’s a little… prickly? But she’s not, I promise.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I get it. And I trust your judgement, always. You’re a good judge of character - I’ve never doubted that. She loves you and she wants to protect you, and so do I. I think you’ll find we have a lot more in common than you think.”

“I hope so. This is kind of a huge deal for me. And the more I think about it, the more worried I get.”

“Worried about what, honey?”

Bucky leans back against your dresser, using his hands on your hips to keep you against his front. You tilt into his body, resting your head on his chest.

“That you won’t like each other, or something. Which is stupid, I know. But the two of you mean so much to me, and I can’t lose either of you, and I just…”

“You’re spiralling.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Yeah.”

“We’re gonna have a fun night, okay? If you put too much pressure on it, it’ll crumble under its own weight. Just breathe, baby. It’s dinner and drinks. Nothing you haven’t done before.”

“Dinner and drinks.”

“Exactly. Thankfully, actually, because I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“You know me so well.”

He chuckles as he leans down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It ruins what was left of your lip gloss, but you don’t mind.

“It’s us against the world, remember? That includes double dates.”

You shake your head, scoffing as you break away to pull your shoes onto your feet. Taking a step back, you check your reflection in the mirror, not missing the way Bucky’s eyes follow the shape of your body all the way down and back up again.

“Quit that.”

“Quit what?”

“That, Barnes.”

“What, honey girl?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

You grab your purse and your jacket, giving him a once over to make sure he’s ready.

“We need to go. We actually should have left about ten minutes ago, but someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“You want an encore?”

He lurches forward, fingers digging into your sides as you thrash in his hold. Your knees buckle as the tickling continues, punching at his biceps to get him to stop. You finally break away, panting as you keep him at arms length.

“Pull that shit again and I will kill you, James. You hear me?”

“I’m so scared,” he jokes, laughing infectiously.

You grin as you push him out of the door, shaking your head as you do it.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The restaurant Lacie has picked is perfect.

It’s a place the two of you have been to many times - intimate but not too quiet. It’s all candlelight and real wood and big, open windows. You can hear the sound of chatter and laughter from down the street, warm and inviting.

A wave of nostalgia overcomes you as you stand on the sidewalk and wait for your best friend. You spent your 21st birthday here with Lacie, getting drunk on sweet cherry cocktails and dipping pieces of fresh bread in olive oil to soak up the alcohol. The entire night consisted of giggling and gossiping, until you’d wobbled home in your high heels, hands tightly clasped together just like when you were kids. You both fell asleep tangled in Lacie’s pink ruffled bedsheets, cuddled up and wearing your old matching Looney Tunes pyjamas.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?” Bucky asks, swinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Just thinking about all the nights me and Lacie have spent here. We’d always order the Cocktail of the Day, no matter what it was. Sometimes it was the best thing we’d ever drank, sometimes it was so vile we’d down it in one to get it over with.”

He laughs all deep and hearty, the sound vibrating through you where you’re pressed into his side. You’re looking down the street when you hear a shout from the opposite direction.

“Is that my bestie and her soulmate I see? Looking hot as ever?”

“Yeah, baby!”

You start walking towards her voice, grinning as you go. She holds out her arms, bracing herself when you run into them.

Lacie hugs you like she hasn’t seen you in years - and honestly, it kind of feels like it. She squeezes you as tightly as she can, cutting off your oxygen supply. You don’t mind one bit, squeezing her back just as tightly.

You hook your chin over her shoulder to see Bucky and Cameron shaking each other’s hands, going through first meeting formalities. Breaking away from Lacie, you pull her soulmate into a friendly hug that he reciprocates eagerly.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” he smiles, linking his hand with Lacie’s as if he’s scared to be apart from her for too long.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” you repeat, leaning into the warmth of Bucky’s hand on the small of your back.

“It’s true, she has. Probably too much,” Lacie laughs, guiding you all to the hostess at the front door.

You’re seated outside, on the terrace with a gorgeous view of the coastline. It’s breezy but not windy, warm but not hot. It’s perfect. The sun is starting to begin its slow descent, and the orange glow lights up Bucky like he’s a heavenly being, some sort of celestial creature. It’s hard to read the drinks menu when all you want to do is stare at your soulmate for hours on end.

“Babe… shall we get a cocktail of the day?”

“You remembered!”

“Of course I did,” your best friend giggles, kicking your shin under the table. “Remember that one that was full of rose petals, and we kept accidentally eating them?”

“Or the one with the sour sugar on the rim? Must have been the most sour thing I’ve ever tried.”

“This isn’t filling me with hope,” Cameron chuckles, setting down his menu to put his trust in Lacie anyway.

The waitress brings over four pink cocktails in rocks glasses, popping straws in them when she reaches the table.

“Cherry and lemon,” she informs you. “It’s delicious.”

She’s right. It’s definitely one of the, if not the best cocktail you’ve ever had in this place - a million times better than the rose petal one. When you’ve all ordered your food, conversation turns to the elephant in the room. Soulmates.

“So you guys were strangers, right?” Bucky asks the two people across from you.

They both instantly light up, ecstatic to be able to tell their story.

“Complete strangers. We’d never met each other in our lives. I walked into the gym as usual, and there he was. All gorgeous and tanned and tattooed and muscled.”

They interlink their fingers, beaming at each other.

“I could see it all instantly,” Cameron takes over. “Living together, marriage, kids, the rest of our lives. It was like a vision, this prediction of what’s to come on a big screen in my mind.”

He leans in to kiss Lacie, all tender and so full of love. Anyone within a fifty mile radius can feel their connection.

“So, Lacie said you guys already knew each other?”

You knew this line of questioning would happen sooner or later, but you didn’t realise just how nervous it’d make you feel. Bucky senses your anxiety instantly, wrapping his fingers around yours under the table. His thumb rubs gentle circles into the back of your hand, the familiar and comforting motion calming you down easily.

“Uh, yeah. We’d known each other for a few years. He’s my dad’s best friend.”

“Oh, shit. I mean Lacie explained back when you told her, but that’s so… complicated. How did your parents take it?”

“We… don’t know,” Bucky explains. “We haven’t exactly had that conversation yet.”

“But you guys have been soulmates for like two years, right?”

“It’s been complicated, like you said,” you pick up. “I wasn’t home for a lot of it, I was back in California for work. And we tried to tell them, but my Dad got sick, and then it turns out that they actually already knew. So, maybe in hindsight, complicated is actually an understatement.”

Lacie laughs with nothing but love in her eyes, stepping on your foot affectionately in a gesture of solidarity.

“Told you they were complex, Cam.”

“A lot more complex than us, lovebug,” he chuckles.

“You hear that, baby?” Bucky leans over to whisper in your ear. “We’re complex.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whisper back, turning your head to press a kiss into his jaw.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The food is divine.

It’s all small plates, Mediterranean inspired and delicious. Seafood, charred vegetables, beautiful mixes of herbs spices with everything doused in olive oil and balsamic.

“Holy shit. I don’t think I can eat for a week after this.”

“You gonna have to unbuckle that designer belt of yours, Cameron?”

You’re met with a cacophony of laughter and shaking heads.

“I like her,” he tells Lacie with a smile. “I see why you two work.”

“Aha, I’ve earned the Cameron seal of approval! Hear that, Lace? He likes me.”

“Oh god. My bestie and my soulmate are gonna be friends. There are so many embarrassing stories that are going to be shared, aren’t there?”

“So many,” you and Cameron say in unison.

Lacie’s shaking her head but she can’t stop laughing, buzzed off of the speciality cocktails and the joy of having her favourite people get along.

“Okay, okay, before we get into that,” she intervenes, “we’re having brunch with my sisters and their soulmates tomorrow. So I hate to be a buzzkill… but I’m gonna have to cut this short, before we pass the point of hungover beyond return.”

“Say hi to them for me, won’t you? I haven’t seen them in so long.”

“Laura’s getting married in a few months - I’ll make sure you two get an invite. They’d love to see you again soon, they both ask about you all the time.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You say your goodbyes, hugs and promises to see each other as soon as possible exchanged with love and excitement.

“I’m moving into Cameron’s place finally, and I’m gonna need your help decorating, babe. Will you come shopping with me sometime this week? I trust your taste.”

“Of course, Lace. I’d love to. Just text me, and we’ll arrange something.”

She presses a lipgloss stained kiss to your cheek, smelling like strawberries and giggles from your childhood.

“Bye, you two! So lovely to see you again, Bucky.”

“You too, Lacie. Good to see you guys, and good to finally meet you, Cam.”

“Cam,” Lacie whispers to you. “They’re besties already.”

You can’t help but laugh, waving them off with Bucky’s hand entangled with yours. After they’ve gone, you both sit back down at the table, exhaling.

“See? Wasn’t as bad as you thought, right?”

“I never thought it’d be bad,” you tease. “Just thought it’d be… intense. Which it was, but in a good way, I think.”

“You wanna have a drink just the two of us? Then we can go home, get into our pyjamas, rewatch an episode or two of Twin Peaks.”

“Sounds perfect,” you assure, standing up to press a quick kiss to his cheek before getting ready to make your way to the bar. “The usual, my love?”

“Surprise me, honey.”

You saunter inside, leaving Bucky sitting pretty on the balcony. The breeze gently blows the linen of his shirt, billowing the material and making him look like an angel.

“Can I get two old fashioneds when you get the chance? Thank you.”

The bartender nods her head at you, giving you a gentle smile before turning away to make your drinks. You take a seat on a stool, resting your feet in your heels for a moment.

“Excuse me?”

A pause.

“Excuse me, miss?”

A man slides into the stool next to you, tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were talking to me.”

“I don’t usually do this, but I saw you across the room and just had to tell you that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You spin around in your place to get a good look at the man who’s speaking. He’s only got a few inches of height on you, but he’s built stocky and strong, with a certain glimmer in his eyes that leaves a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Uh, thank you. That’s kind.”

You try to spin back around, but a clammy hand wraps itself around your forearm, effectively stopping you.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Sorry, sweet thing. Just wanted to talk a little more.”

His voice is dripping with condescension, terribly masking venom and ill intent. The whole situation feels tense and too charged, and you’re desperate to find a way out without upsetting him. You look over to the bartender, trying to catch her attention.

“So you’re here by yourself? Pretty girl like you, you shouldn’t be alone. You don’t know who’s around.”

Your heartbeat picks up, hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. You’re screaming to Bucky in your mind, begging for him to sense your unease as soon as possible. This man still has a grip on your arm, his other hand moving to rest on your thigh. A cold chill overcomes you, and you know it isn’t from the ocean breeze.

“I’m here with my boyfriend,” you choke out. “He’s waiting for me.”

“Really?” he asks, squeezing his grip tighter. “Where?”

“Right here.”

A familiar voice booms from behind you, rumbling through your bones. You exhale shakily, desperate to turn around but unable to.

“This your daddy, sweet thing?”

“He’s my boyfriend, actually.”

Your voice is shaking, and Bucky hates how vulnerable you sound. You feel the sharp pang of sadness stab through his chest momentarily.

“Take your hands off the lady, asshole. Now.”

When the man doesn’t move, Bucky steps in, plastering himself to your back.

“I won’t ask again,” he reiterates, tone deep and low.

The man seems to get the message, judging by the way he slowly backs away from you. The minute he’s far enough away, Bucky slips a hand under your hair to hold the back of your neck, pulling you into his body. You melt into him, resting your head on his chest and breathing him in.

“Oh, your old fashioneds! I’ll start them now. Sorry!” you hear from behind the bar.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Bucky says over your head to the bartender. “We’re gonna get going.”

You assume she nods, because Bucky pulls you gently off your stool, leading you towards the door.

“Come on, angel,” he murmurs into your temple. “Let’s go home.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky’s hand doesn’t leave yours the entire way back to his house.

You both spend more time at your place than you do at his, so it makes a nice change. You love being here, because it is so completely enveloped by Bucky.

You see him everywhere. His favourite soft grey blanket strewn across the back of the couch, his handmade green mug that you bought him in California left ready on the counter by the coffee machine, the weathered and worn blue plaid pyjama pants he loves folded on the bed.

You hear him everywhere. The trees that he planted in the backyard rustling in the breeze, the soft hum of the refrigerator that he fixed himself six months ago, the reruns of vintage shows that play on the TV when he knows you need some background noise.

You smell him everywhere. The lingering scent of his cologne on every surface, his favourite laundry detergent that clings to his comforter even after he’s slept in it time and time again, the salt from the breeze that billows through the house when he leaves the windows open.

You feel him everywhere. The indent of where his head has laid on his pillows, the fingerprint shaped divots in the arm of the couch where he rests his hand as he watches a movie, the light switch in the hallway that has worn away due to him always pressing it with his elbow when he walks through the front door.

He’s in all four corners of this house, plastered all over it north, south, east and west. His very being lives in the walls, the floors, the ceilings. His spirit has cemented itself into the foundations, down through the Earth that it’s built on.

You couldn’t love it more if you tried.

And now, you see glimpses of you. Your toothbrush and shampoo in the bathroom, your mug waiting ready at the coffee machine, the smear of nail polish you accidentally spilled on the coffee table one evening that won’t quite come off. Your pyjamas folded next to his on the bed, your shoes next to his at the door, your socks next to his in the top drawer.

Neither of your places are yours or his, now. They belong to the two of you. You refer to my apartment as our apartment. He refers to his house as our house. You’re not sure when it began, but it’s happening more and more as of late. It makes you happy beyond words.

Your place, his place… doesn’t matter. Home is wherever you’re together.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky kneels in front of you where you sit on the edge of the bed, unbuckling your heels. He digs his thumbs into the bottom of your feet, releasing some of the tension firmly but carefully.

“You sure you’re okay, honey?”

“Yeah, Buck. I’m okay.”

You look down at him, caressing his stubbled cheek gently. He looks back up at you with those big blue eyes blown wide, so full of concern you can practically feel it buzzing around the room.

“If you wanna talk about it…”

“I know. I can talk to you about anything, baby. And I will, when I need to. Look… it was scary in the moment. But I also knew that you were on the terrace outside, and that you’d come and get me eventually. Plus, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

He takes a pause, still working his thumb into your soles.

“You deal with this stuff a lot?” he asks after a moment.

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. All girls do. You know that.”

“I do. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s different, when it’s the person you love the most in the world.”

“I get that. It’s not different for us, though.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, my love,” you whisper, tracing your fingertips across the features of his face. “You came along and saved me, so.”

“I would have come sooner, you know. I felt it in my chest pretty quick, but got stuck talking to a client of mine. I was inching away for so long before I had to just tell him to leave me alone.”

“It’s okay, we’re all okay. I don’t wanna focus on it. It’s done now.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to me anytime if you need to, though?”

“Promise,” you reassure, linking your pinky finger with his.

You both sit like that for a while, just thinking. You’re still tracing his face, following the beautiful lines and curves as if it’s a colouring book. Focusing on the warmth of his hands on you, you can’t help but let your mind wander to how he handled the guy at the bar. You’ve never seen him so assertive, almost threatening. And the more you think about it, the more you realise - you liked it. Obviously, the situation was unpleasant and far from ideal, but when you hone in on the way your soulmate swooped in to save you…

“What are you thinking about, pretty?” he asks, noticing the way your eyes have clouded over.

“Just the way you looked in that bar. All strong and domineering and in charge.”

“Yeah?”

There’s a dirty smirk making his way onto his handsome face, all mischievous and cunning.

“Yeah. You walked in and saved me like it was nothing. I felt so safe, with the hottest guy in the world protecting me.”

You dance your fingertips across Bucky’s face, tracing his bottom lip.

“I could have killed him,” he murmurs, nipping at the pad of your thumb. “Touching what’s mine.”

Oh. You’ve never heard him speak about you like this, but you’re glad you’re already sitting down - otherwise you’d be melting into a puddle on the ground.

“Mhmm? Yours?”

“You know you’re mine, angel. I have no doubts about that.”

The juxtaposition of it all is making your head spin. Bucky is knelt below you, looking up at you with his ocean blue eyes, but he’s still the one in charge. He’s the one making your knees buckle while his are digging into the carpet.

“I am yours,” you whisper.

“I know.”

His confidence is killing you. There’s sweat dripping down your back already, a bead of it slowly trickling down the curves of your spine. Your chest heaves as you refuse to break eye contact, desperately anticipating his next move.

“You like me like this, don’t you, honey? Sat at your feet, watching you, ready to do whatever you want. Do you even know how much power you hold? Do you even understand the things I would do for you?”

You might pass out if he keeps talking like this. To shut him up, you shove your thumb into his mouth, groaning when he laves over it with his tongue.

“I’ll give you anything,” he mumbles around your digit. “Just say the words.”

“Want you to fuck me,” you choke out.

“How?”

You press down on his tongue for a minute, taking a sick satisfaction in how his eyes water. There’s spit dripping down his chin and your wrist. It’s depraved. You want more.

“Like I’m yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Prove it. Show me. Make sure I don’t forget it.”

He bites down on your thumb before slipping it out of his mouth, licking a stripe from the bottom of it to the top.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You don’t know what you’ve just asked for.”

He rises suddenly, pulling you off the bed by your arms so you’re standing in front of him. He takes your place at the edge of the mattress, and you realise that you never had the advantage you thought you did.

“Strip.”

You raise a brow at him, and the stormy look you receive in response makes you shut your mouth.

“I won’t ask again, angel. Strip.”

You go to reach for your hem when a hand darts out and catches yours.

“Ah ah ah. What’s the rush? Put on a show for me, baby. Come on.”

You slow right down, carefully undoing the zipper on your dress before gently pulling it up to underneath your chest. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s breath hitches at the sight of what you’ve had on underneath your outfit all night. You pull it up and over your head softly, standing in front of him in your lacy black underwear that you’ve been waiting to debut.

“Fuck, honey girl. Is that new?”

You only nod before stepping forward to stand in between his legs, smiling when his hands fly straight out to rest on your hips.

“You still want me to strip? Or shall I keep this on, let you enjoy it a little longer?”

“Keep it on,” he mumbles against your stomach, pressing kisses to any skin he can reach. “Wanna fuck you in it.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Everywhere.”

You laugh, leaning down to press your lips to his quickly.

“Come sit here,” he decides, patting his thighs.

You go to oblige but stop, pouting at Bucky where he looks up at you.

“What is it, baby?”

“This feels unfair,” you point at him. “You’re wearing all your clothes.”

“Which is the way it’ll stay, until I decide otherwise.”

With that he pulls you down into his lap, manoeuvring you so you’re sat with your legs spread apart by his, back pressed to his chest. You look straight ahead to see yourself in the full length mirror, with Bucky’s self satisfied expression behind you.

“Want you to see what I see,” he explains, running his fingers across your thighs in a featherlight touch. “You should see how pretty you look when you come.”

He cups you over your underwear, both of you groaning in unison.

“This is all for me? All mine?”

All you can do is nod, not trusting your voice anymore. Bucky hooks your panties to the side and runs a finger through your wetness, smothering it around and making a mess on purpose.

“I love you like this,” he murmurs into your ear. “All messy and careless and desperate for me. You’d do anything I asked. So good for me.”

He slides a finger into you, pulling it out swiftly and adding a second. There’s no resistance, only your warm, wet heat sucking him straight back in. You buck your hips, trying to get him to curl them how you like.

“Please,” you whine, squirming in his lap. “Please, Buck.”

He knows exactly what you need, crooking his fingers to hit that spot just right. He can play you like an instrument, plucking at your strings until you’re teetering on the edge in no time.

“Wait,” you plead, gripping his wrist. “Don’t wanna come yet.”

Bucky slows his movements to a halt, kissing your neck and catching your eyes in the mirror.

“No, baby? Why?”

You grab his hand and remove his fingers from you, sucking them into your mouth without breaking eye contact with him. When you’ve licked them clean, you lean back to murmur into his jaw.

“I wanna come on your cock.”

With a gentle kiss to his jaw, you add ever so politely,

“Please.”

Bucky’s never been one to deny you anything, and he’s not about to start now.

“Fuck, look at you. I’ve turned you into a whore.”

“You love it.”

He chuckles all deep and low, the sound rumbling through your body. Pushing you off his lap, you’re confused for a moment before he starts undressing, putting on a show of his own for you.

“C’mere,” he says finally, now fully naked and sat back in his original spot at the edge of the mattress. “Come and watch how pretty you look when you’re sitting on my cock.”

You settle back where you were, legs spread wide by his thick thighs. One of his arms is wrapped around your middle, keeping you firmly plastered to his chest as his other hand lands at the base of your throat.

“Okay, baby. S’all yours. Take what you need.”

His arrogance is doing nothing to soothe the ache between your legs, your arousal dripping through your pretty lace underwear. It’s ruined, but you couldn’t care less.

Lining him up and sinking down, you both groan at the sensation. He fills you up perfectly, almost as if you were made for each other. When you realise you were, your legs go jelly.

“Atta girl. Use me, baby. Fuck yourself, that’s it.”

You use his thighs as leverage, rising up onto your tiptoes to slam back down. Finding a steady rhythm, you feel a funny sense of pride at doing it yourself, at being the one to take you both apart.

Bucky’s praise doesn’t stop, the timbre of his voice in your ear like melted honey, all warm and golden. He presses kisses into your shoulders, your neck, your back, anywhere he can reach. When he can tell you’re getting tired, he starts canting his hips upwards when you come down. He knows he’s hit the right spot when you half collapse backwards into him, whining. His hands tighten their grip on your hip and your throat, keeping you upright.

Your soulmate directs your head back towards the mirror, forcing you to look at your fucked out reflection.

“Look at you,” he hums. “You look wrecked, baby. Such a fucking mess.”

“For you,” you slur, still willing your legs to do the work.

You’re so close you can taste it, and Bucky knows this. His hand that was on your hip migrates to between your legs, where he rubs slow but firm circles on your clit. Your knees buckle, and he knows you’re done for.

“Look at yourself,” he demands, keeping your head up with his grip on you. “Look how fucking pretty you look when you come.”

You watch yourself - the way your jaw drops open and your muscles tighten, back arching up and away. You then shift your gaze to Bucky’s reflection just in time to watch him finish. It’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen - his teeth sunken into your shoulder, sweat dripping down his chest, eyes blown so wide you can’t tell they’re blue anymore.

The two of you sit like that for a while, still connected in every sense of the word. You’re trying to catch your breath, every bone in your body completely relaxed. Bucky’s arms circle your middle, ensuring every inch of his skin is pressed to yours.

“Told you,” he mumbles into your jaw. “Prettiest sight in the fucking world, honey girl.”

You tilt your head up to look at the two of you, the way you fit together so perfectly.

Yeah, you think. Prettiest sight in the world.

tag list

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loafysainz · 20 days ago

Text

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz × fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

part 1, part 2, part 3

PART 2 SUMMER CAMP BEGIN

Hundreds of campers piled out of buses, buzzing with excitement. Among them, a brunnete-haired boy named Matheo Sainz looked around with mild disinterest, tugging at his leather jacket despite the scorching sun. His outfit was on point—a beige sweater, jeans, and his signature cowboi suitcase—but the heat was testing his patience.

"Alright, kids! I’m Mr. Hamilton. Over there is Mr. Russell. He’ll assign your cabins," shouted Mr. Hamilton through a megaphone.

Matheo darted for his suitcase, but it was buried under a mountain of luggage. A redhead named Nate Smith approached, smirking.

“Why didn’t you grab it earlier, genius?” Nate teased.

“Bad luck. Always happens,” Matheo muttered.

Nate joined in the effort to free the suitcase, but it was useless. Just then, Dean Vettel, a tall and big kid, yanked out his suitcase like it was nothing.

“Hey, Hulk! Help us out!” Nate called.

Dean smirked and pulled Matheo’s suitcase free with one swift move.

"Thanks, dude. I’m Matheo."

"Dean. Nice to meet you."

"I’m Nate," added the redhead.

The trio clicked instantly, chatting as they headed to their cabin.

***

Elsewhere, a sleek limousine rolled up. Out stepped a blond-haired boy in a sharp blue suit—Mattia Y/LN. His bodyguard, Martin, looked uneasy.

“Are you sure about this camp, young Man?”

“Absolutely! It’ll be fun,” Mattia replied confidently.

Martin sighed. "You’re as stubborn as your mom, Y/N."

“That’s the point.” Mattia grinned, grabbing his luggage. “See you in a month, Martin!”

***

The next day, a fencing match was in full swing. Matheo dominated the battlefield, his quick moves earning cheers.

“Who’s next?” he taunted.

Mattia, fresh from padle practice, approached with his friends egging him on.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Mattia said, putting on a fencing mask.

The duel was intense. Swords clashed, hay flew, and the crowd gasped. Mattia’s agility matched Matheo’s skill, but in a final move, Mattia disarmed Matheo.

“Touché,” Mattia smirked.

Matheo glared but offered a handshake. Instead of shaking hands, Mattia yanked him into a nearby pond.

“Seriously?” Matheo spluttered.

Mr. Russell arrived, clapping. “That was amazing! Now shake hands for real.”

The boys turned to face each other—and froze.

“Damn, we look the same!” Mattia blurted.

“No way,” Matheo scoffed, but he inspected Mattia. “Fine, you’ve got more freckles. And look those ears… they’re not it, man.”

Mattia glared. “Well, your nose isn’t exactly Picasso-worthy either.”

“Madrid has great surgeons,” Matheo retorted with a smirk.

Their friends exchanged looks.

“Are they… twins?” Nate whispered.

“Plot twist of the year,” Dean added.

Mr. Russell scratched his head. “Alright, Mattia—I mean, Matheo—and, uh, Mattia, get along now.”

The twins stared each other down. “This summer’s about to get interesting,” they thought.

And so, chaos began.

#cs55 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr

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benedictscanvas · 1 year ago

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pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes.

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso x reader

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inkykeiji · 2 years ago

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omg I had no idea you're working on flawless part 2!!! thats so exciting and we're gunna love it no matter what so dont feel stressed to rush it <3

yes!!! thank you!! <333 i am super excited to share it with u!! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ aw hehe anon you’re so sweet! c: i’m hoping to get it done on time for tomura’s birthday but i’m also not making any concrete promises (if it’s a few days late then it’s a few days late, no big deal) <3

#i am a lil nervous about how LONG it’s gonna me hahaha #but either way!!!!! it’ll be fun to share c: part two is more ~dramatic~ hahaha #i hope ur having a wonderful monday bb!!!! thank you for your enthusiasm and support!!#pls stay safe and stay healthy!! <3 #inky.bb #clari gets mail

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reverie-starlight · 9 months ago

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{the proposal- kuroo}

on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.

“You need to propose to me.”

Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”

You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.

“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”

He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”

“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.

“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”

“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”

You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.

Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.

(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).

“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.

A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.

“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”

You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.

Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”

Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.

Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”

You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.

“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”

The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”

You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”

Beside you, your ‘fiancé’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”

This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”

The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.

You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”

A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.

You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.

He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.

“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”

His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”

You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”

He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.

You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.

So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.

“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”

You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”

“Sleep, baby.”

You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”

You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”

“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”

You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”

You nod as you begin to doze off.

He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.

The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3

tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x reader fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader fluff #haikyuu x gender neutral reader

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bloomzone · 19 days ago

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2025: #13 The Wake-Up Call: stop wasting time and own ur education

⚠️ : harsh motivation

『Let me cut the bullshit and get straight to the point: you’re wasting your life. I said it. u sit there, complaining about school, whining about how “hard” it is, scrolling through your phone like the world owes u something Cuz it doesn’t. No one is coming to save your lazy ass.』

✒️..Cuz a big number of ppl think education is a joke !? You think skipping class, half-assing assignments, and coasting through life on autopilot is cute? Hell nah pookie. It’s fucking pathetic. While you’re sitting there making excuses—“I’m too tired,” “This subject is boring,” “I don’t see the point”—there’s someone out there grinding, pushing, sacrificing everything for the life you’re too scared to fight for.Do you know what it feels like to be stuck? To have doors slammed in your face because you didn’t put in the work? That’s the life you’re signing up for every time u choose to be lazy. Every time you say, “Fuck it, I’ll do it tomorrow,” you’re digging your own grave. You’re giving up on the one shot you have to make something of yourself.

But you’re not completely fucked yet.

Yeah, school sucks sometimes. I get it. Waking up early, dealing with uninspiring teachers, and subjects that feel pointless—it can feel like a waste. But here’s the truth: life doesn’t care. The world is cutthroat, and if you don’t show up, it’ll eat you alive. You either hustle, or you get crushed. That’s it.

So, what do you do? You fucking start. No more excuses, no more procrastinating. Here’s how to get your shit together:

1. Set a Fucking Goal

Stop floating around like a goddamn leaf in the wind. What do you want? What’s the dream? You can’t hit a target you don’t aim for. Write it down. Visualize it. Make it so real in your mind that you can taste it. Whether it’s becoming a doctor, starting a business, or simply getting out of your current situation—know your “why.”

2. Get Ruthless About Your Time

Stop wasting hours scrolling through TikTok, bingeing Netflix, or playing dumbass mobile games. Track your time. Every second you waste is a second you’re giving to someone who’s working harder than you. Use a planner, set alarms, make a schedule—whatever it takes to get shit done.

3. Start Small, Stay Consistent

You don’t have to study for eight hours on day one. Start with 30 minutes of focused work. Use the Pomodoro method: 25 minutes of pure focus, 5-minute break. Do that four times, and you’ve already put in two solid hours. Consistency beats motivation every damn time.

4. Stop Waiting for Motivation

Motivation is bullshit. It’s flaky, unreliable, and temporary. What you need is discipline. Discipline is doing what needs to be done, even when you don’t feel like it. Hate studying? Too bad. Set a timer and do it anyway. No one said this would be fun .l talked abt this click here !

5. Surround Yourself with Hungry People

If your friends are lazy, you’ll be lazy too. Cut out anyone who’s dragging you down. Find people who are grinding, who push you to be better, who make you uncomfortable in your mediocrity. If you can’t find those people, be that person. Lead the fucking way.

6. Own Your Failures

Stop blaming teachers, parents, or the system. If you failed, it’s on you. Take responsibility and learn from it. Failure isn’t the end—it’s feedback. It’s the world telling you where you need to improve. Use it.

7. Reward Yourself, But Only After You Earn It

Studied for two hours? Cool. Take a 15-minute break. Finished your assignment? Great. Watch an episode of your favorite show. But don’t let rewards come before the work. Earn your dopamine hits—they’ll feel a hell of a lot better.

8. Stop Romanticizing “Easy”

Nothing worth having comes easy. You’re not entitled to success; you have to fight for it. The grind is what separates the winners from the losers. Fall in love with the process, even when it sucks. Because that’s where growth happens.

9. Remember Who the Fuck You Are

You’re not some weak, helpless victim. You have the power to change ur life, but only if you stop feeling sorry for yourself. The world doesn’t owe you shit. You owe it to yourself to rise up, to push harder, to become the person you know you can be.

10. Think Long-Term

When you’re tempted to slack off, think about your future self. Five years from now, do you want to look back and say, “I gave it my all,” or do you want to drown in regret, wishing you could go back and do things differently? The choice is yours—every single day.

Stop Fucking Around

You’re not a kid anymore. This is your life. Every decision you make is shaping your future, whether you like it or not. You have one shot at this. Stop wasting it. Get off your ass, open your books, and start fighting for the life you want.

the pain of hard work is temporary, but the pain of regret lasts forever. So choose wisely. Do the work. Stay hungry. And when you’ve finally made it—when you’re living the life you once dreamed of—you’ll look back and thank yourself for not giving up.

@bloomzone 📇

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serejae · 8 months ago

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IF BY CHANCE ? | BND

WHAT ? - BND AS EXES WHO WANT YOU BACK (bnd realizing they messed up after you end things)

WHEN ? - (warning) this is not a REAL display of the members im just doing this for weeping entertainment:) attempt to unconsented kissing in jaehyuns, drinking in sungho’s, mentions of throw up/throwing up in leehans, major angst 😒

WHO ? - (a/n) i love angst but not like death but yearning and groveling, pls tell me yall relate. lowk went hard on jaehyun and leehans from personal experience 🤔🤔

uncapitalization intended and not proofread

theres a theory that you will always meet the same person twice

P.SUNGHO ; he was too focused on his career.

! - you knew and understood thst sungho’s job was very important to him but it started to feel like you werent his partner anymore. you started to feel like decoration in your guys apartment that he would just ignore when he got home.

! - to try and help your relationship you made him dinner, cleaned up the place, asked him about his day to which he blew up. his cold demeanor suddenly dropped as he yelled at you about constantly bothering him when he just wanted to sleep. you knew your intentions and knew you didnt want to bother but help sungho. you then realize you werent valued in this relationship and were pulling the whole weight by yourself, so you ended things.

! - it took him about 4 days to realize that he messed up. those 4 days his mind was constantly fogged up about work, after those 4 days he walked into the house and how he realized was when he alerted you (or tried to) that he was home with a “honey im home”, only to be met with silence. a bit confused not realizing his brain hadnt catched up yet, he walked into your twos room, or use to be. only to be met with the mess he left for himself in the morning. there is when he realized you weren’t there anymore. to shake his mind off of it, he decided to eat before doing anything ,he went to the kitchen to heat up some frozen dinner. as the meal heated he realized the house was so empty, cold, and quiet. the only sound was coming from the spinning microwave.

! - it’s safe to say the soulless house took a toll on him. everyday he dreaded going home, which is funny cause he couldve said the same thing before he realized how important you were. his friends who were tired of seeing him so lifeless decided to invite him to go to the bar to hang out…he wasnt much fun there either. that was until he caught a glimpse of you from the reflection of his empty shot glass. his eyes light up and he turns around to make eye contact with you. .

L.RIWOO ; trust issues.

! - you understood where riwoo was coming from, you knew that trust issues are normal , but it got to a point where his trust issues started to make you question him.

! - and it didnt help that each time you did try to reassure him that it somehow made it worse. “ri, of course im going to stay late, my boss asked me too. you have my location, i send you photos of me working, what else do you want?” maybe your approach wasnt the best but the way he snapped was when you knew no matter how much you tried to protect both you and his peace, he will try to tear it down again. “oh, so now your getting defensive. i shouldve known, especially from you.” he said it with no remorse or thought behind it. and to him he thought he was winning this argument but in reality he was going to make the biggest loss of his life.

! - it took him 5 hours to realize he messed up. when you left and packed your things he thought you’d run back and it’ll make him feel better about himself. but after 4 hours it was already 3 am and he realized maybe…you wouldnt come back as soon as he thought. but that last hour before he realized he messed up, he had a dream of you and him. you two were living that exact moment, before you left. you standing pacing back and forth as he sat on the couch. except this time, he talks to you about why he thinks the way he thinks and vows to do better. in that dream he sleeps with you in his arms. when he woke up he stared at the ceiling, and it was like it was talking to him. thats when he realized you werent coming back. you wont be in his arms again, you wont tell him about your day, and you wont constantly tired of arguing with him because of his doubts.

! - after trapping himself in his house and thoughts he decided to go on a walk, but to his suprise once he opens the door you stand there staring at him with a box of his things in your hands. his mouth goes dry

M. JAEHYUN ; girl bestfriend

! - you were the never the type of partner to care too much about the opposite gender best friends as you were very secure in your relationship, but in this case it wasnt him but rather her. you knew from the moment she laid her eyes on you she was no good. but you decided to give her the benefit of the doubt as this was jaehyuns childhood bestfriend, and if you didnt like her you could at least pretend for your boyfriends sake.

! - you were always calm and reserved around jaehyun and his bestfriend even on those dsys you wanted to push her off him. but today it was like a flip switched. you walked home soaked from the rain after not being to reach your boyfriend to pick you up. you get it he’s busy, but your blood boiled when you saw both of them sitting on the couch peacefully. she looked up at you and grinned as jaehyun ran up to you worried. “jaehyun lets talk in our room please” you simply asked. he followed you to you and his shared room with a towel drying you off as you spoke. “i really hate to do this to you but its either me or her.” he paused his movements of drying your hair “you know i cant do that. ive known her for so long do you not trust me?” he said defensive. “i dont trust her” you said blandly, he stared at you and started lecturing you on how his bestfriend gave you no reason to not trust her. you didnt argue back, you were too tired for it you just said “she likes you jaehyun”. he paused and continued lecturing you about how thats ridiculous. you shake your head and pack your things “clearly i know your answer.” he continues on and on on how youre being ridiculous. once you leave the door he puts his hand in his face.

! - it took him like 5 minutes to realize he messed up (bye.) his friend came into your room and sat down by him as he listened to him rant. “you know…” she said slowly “y/n’s not wrong” his ears perked up at that “ive always liked you jaehyun, your just too silly to realize.” he freezes at her words, feeling his blood run cold he feels her fingers on his chin and her leaning in. he backs up and kicks her out despite her protest. once he locked the door and is left in the empty haunting house alone he scrambles for his phone. after finding it he opens it to all your messages asking if he can pick you up. it made him nauseous at the thought he left you alone and cold for his ‘friend’ that was the cause of your breakup. he calls you to which you dont answer, he starts panicking at this point and paces in the house as he mass text and call you just wanting a answer. he pauses in front of him at the only room he hasnt stepped room in since pacing. your bedroom. he walks in and lays down only to be reminded of your scent when he lifts the blankets over his head. thats when he starts crying and realized you weren’t there to hold him like you normally did

! - he didnt have his safe space anymore.

H. TAESAN ; distant

! - you hated to admit it but one of the things that drew you into taesan was the thing that made you end things. his cold demeanor was what made everyone so curious about him, fortunately or unfortunately you were the one he picked to be into his very small circle to which you became his partner. during this you learned he loved his alone time which you were fine with, what threw you off was the way he signaled to you he wanted to be alone. he would ignore you in public and not reply to your messages as if you didnt know each other. you were okay with it at first since you loved your strange boyfriend but after a while you grew tired of it. tired of breaking down his walls and when you finally feel accepted by him only to be shut out again

! - and clearly it was a mistake bringing it up to him because it lead him to being the loudest you ever heard him, arguing back and forth. “i dont get why you just have to pretend you don’t know me. im fine with you needing your alone space but why do you have to act like you hate me?”

“im starting to if thats how your gonna react to me needing my time every so often.”

you couldnt argue anymore, especially when he just admitted he was close to hating you for communicating your feelings. the room went quiet, taesan looks over his shoulder to see you staring at the ground before walking off. after that day you didnt text first or initiate anything to see if he would, unfortunately to you. he didnt.

! - it took him about a month to realize he messed up (sorry taesan lovers:c). but dont get me wrong, its not like he went on with his life like normal. everyday it felt like he was missing something but he could never put his finger on this feeling so he just dismissed it. until one day by instinct he sat at your twos spot alone and your guys song started to play in his headphones. he was never one to communicate his feelings too well but that didnt mean he didnt care for you. he would dedicate songs to you and one just fit perfectly with you two. when the song played he looked around and realized where he was with what song was playing only to see something is missing

you.

and thats when it hit him, he didnt get his usual messages, his hugs, or his sneaky looks from you. he was alone, but wasnt this what he wanted?

he wanted to be alone right?

he loved it.

right?

he then realized

he loves you more then he loved being alone.

was it worth it to lose one thing you love more to prioritize the other?

K.LEEHAN ; too friendly

! - from the beginning you knew dating leehan came with a price. everyone wanted him. some more bold than others that would go up to him and ask him out even when he had a partner. his reaction to these admirers was a stranger then how a boyfriend would react to girls hitting on him. he’d entertain the girls in front for you just to see your reaction. you knew he loved seeing you jealous which was cute at first but after a while it got old. it started to make you doubt whether he really loved you or not. if the girls would compliment leehan he’d start asking for details, “oh yeah? how much do you like me?” “my arms are pretty strong arent they?” or he’d start teasing “calm down my partners infront of me, maybe later” to which the girls, including him would laugh as he looked over to see your fuming face.

! - but this one time, you couldnt take it anymore. if this is what dating someone admired upon was like, you wanted no part. it was like normal. girls would swarm around you and leehan and start flirting, but his one comment ticked you off. “yeah of course we can hangout, im sure my partner wont mind” he winked, he looks over at you expecting to see your puffy angry face but is met with you leaving the table. he follows behind you calling for you. when he finally catches up to you thats when you spew everything youve been feeling. “i can understand if your admired i get it your handsome! but your taken and you should know that, no normal boyfriend flirts back with girls who flirt with him. i have to deal with this closing feeling in my throat and chest all because you want a little enjoyment for your day and im done.” he looked at you confused with a hint of being offended. “youre overreacting yn.” he said before being cut off with you walking away.

! - he realized he messed up 6 days later. its not like he didnt care, but he was in his state of mind that youll run back like any of his fangirls would. during those days he continued to flirt back with them now that his flock was much bigger now that he was single. but this time he flirted back much less enthusiastic as he would before, because he had no reason to, no reaction, no partner to coddle after. he now felt sick with the thought of flirting with anyone to start dating if it wasnt you. he got up from the table to which he recieved a bunch of whines and pleads to stay. he just needed fresh air. he continued walking around campus until he heard a familiar laugh. he turned his head over and seen you with another person, laughing and getting all close like you and him use too. now staring from afar he understood what you meant. he felt his chest and throat closing at the thought sight of you reliving what you and him would do with someone that wasnt him. and his words replay in his mind

“you’re overreacting yn”

“your overreacting”

“overreacting”

in fact you were not overreacting but he knew he had no right to be jealous, when his urge for you to be jealous tore you two apart.

he was on the verge of spilling his guts and you looked happy. not angry, and thats what you deserved

K. WOONHAK ; always mad at you

! - woonhak has always been very open about his anger issues and you knew that. he was just a teen living his first life and you acknowledged that. on certain days he would hold grudges against you and not tell you why he was angry, leaving you alone to figure out and trace back to see what you had done. and it was always something small like giving him only 2 hugs instead of 3 for morning, afternoon, and night. and forbid you try to get him to communicate why he is mad at you. he’ll turn into a big angry ball yelling at every reason he should be mad

! - this one day you were so tired from school. you just wanted to walk home with your boyfriend and hopefully cuddle at home. but he wasnt waiting for you outside your class, instead you already saw him walking out of the school. catching up to him you say hi and start asking him about his day to which you recieve a mean face ignoring you. deciding to avoid that you talked about your day to which he paid no attention to. thats when you snapped “hey im talking to you!” no reply “why do you always do this, you just get mad at me and expect me to read your mind!” he turned over to you and yelled back “i dont know why you can never just think, is it that hard to realize what you did?” “no i cant read your mind woonhak!”. he just turned away and started to walk “woonhak if you keep walking were over!” he paused, to which you hoped he’d come to his senses but he kept walking

! - he realized he messed up 1 days after. day 1, he completely forgot about the night before as it was so normal for him to go back to not being mad at you when he felt like it. when you didnt walk to school with him he decided that was his reasoning for being mad you today. and when you didnt run up to him or walk up to him after school to walk together he started to be a bit confused. here is when youd start to cave but as he walked home he retraced his memory with each step and remembered what you had said when he was being petty.

‘ “woonhak if you keep walking were over!” ‘

he just kept walking, and now you werent his to walk anymore.

“is it so wrong of me to hope she breaks your heart, is it so wrong for me to pray she tears you apart?”

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