#i can feel anger about this? i can feel frustration and anxiety and disappointment and fear and sadness?

[4linos]

breaking the silence

lee know x gn!reader

synopsis: after an argument that involves several tears and hurtful words, your boyfriend gives you the silent treatment.

wc: 2060 (,,> ᴗ <,,)

You had both had a long and tiring day, but it was the silence that had you awake, not the exhaustion. Since the argument earlier in the evening, there had been an unbearable, uncomfortable silence between you and Minho. Really, it had been a dumb approach. It was a small miscommunication that might have been cleared up in a few minutes. Instead, the words had come out of your lips quickly and harshly before you had a chance to think about them, and Minho had snapped, his face tensing in anger. You tried to explain and apologize right away, but he didn't listen. He had turned away without even looking at you, which was an obvious sign that he didn't want to speak with you.

Hours had gone by now, and the tension in the room was intolerable. Your pulse is racing and the knot of anxiety in your chest is getting tighter as you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. Half expecting him to be there, you reached to his side of the bed, but the room was cold and empty. He was still on the couch. After a moment of hesitation during which you bit your lip, you got up and walked quietly into the living room. With his back to you, Minho sat on the couch and watched the TV without paying much attention. The distance between you two felt like an entire ocean, and his shoulders were stiff.

"Minho," you said softly, your voice tentative. “Please… can we talk?” He didn't answer. The ensuing silence was suffocating. As you waited with your heart pounding faster, he stayed motionless with his back to you and refusing to acknowledge you. In an attempt to calm yourself, you swallowed. "I’m sorry Minho. I didn't mean to upset you. "Look at me, please." Nothing. He didn't appear to have heard you at all. It felt almost like a physical barrier because of how heavy the silence was between you two. You tried "Minho…" once more, your voice hardly audible above a whisper, the words suddenly desperate. "I really apologize. Talk to me, please.”

Still nothing.

A part of you wanted to turn away, to give him the space he so obviously needed, to leave him alone. The other side of you, however, couldn't take it. You felt the weight of the unsaid words weighing down on your chest as the silence tore into you. You felt as though the silence was choking you. Gently resting your trembling hand on the back of the couch, you were almost touching him, but not quite. "Please, Minho. I don’t want to lose you. When you act like this, I'm not sure what to do.” You thought he may finally say something as his shoulders stiffened. But the words that came out of his mouth were quiet, icy, and far away.

Without even looking at you, he murmured, "I don't want to talk right now." His voice was flat, with a hint of concealed rage boiling beneath. The words hurt more than you thought they would. Tears threatened to spill out of your throat, but you fought them back. "Minho, I'm at a loss for what to do. I hate this. I hate the way you're ignoring me. Tell me what's wrong, please.” When his head finally turned, you could see that his eyes were filled with a mixture of hurt, frustration, and possibly a hint of disappointment.

He repeated, "I don't want to talk about it," this time with more firmness and a clenched jaw that made it clear he wasn't going to back down. "I don't feel like doing this at the moment. Leave me alone, please. It felt like a face-slap. Your breath caught in your throat as the hurt of his words sunk deep in your chest. You felt so tiny and unimportant all of a sudden, and the pain was unbearable. You said, your voice a mixture of despair and irritation, "You've been like this all night." "Will you please just let me in? Why are you afraid to just speak to me?”

After a while, Minho straightened his posture and kept his gaze fixed on the ground. "You don't understand, do you?" The bitterness in his voice pierced you like a knife, even though it was quieter now. "You're constantly trying to fix things and restore everything, but sometimes I simply need space. I don't require fixing. I don't need to hear your apologies again. All I need is time.” The tears you were suppressing burned in your eyes. "Minho, I'm not trying to fix you. I'm just… All I want to do is put things right. When you refuse to communicate with me, I'm at a loss on what to do. When you cut me off in this way...”

When his eyes finally met yours, he ran a hand through his hair in irritation, yet there was something cold about them that made your stomach churn. "It's not always your turn to fix things. I need time to reflect sometimes. I need you to leave me alone sometimes.” Your chest tightened under the weight of everything you were suppressing, and the intensity of his remarks caused your heart to shatter. He had never been this detached, so angry, and so unwilling to compromise with you. It seemed like he was getting farther away each time you attempted to close the distance.

You said, "I'm sorry," once more, your voice cracking under the pressure of everything. "Minho, I have no idea how to go about this. All I want is to comprehend. Please don't ignore me. He stayed silent for a long time, and the emptiness between you two felt like an endless ocean that you were unsure how to cross. Then he spoke again, softer but still unpleasant, in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper. He murmured, "I'm not trying to hurt you," as his eyes briefly met yours before averting them. “But, I'm not sure how to deal with this either. Right now, I'm not sure how to deal with *us*.”

You were left whirling by his quiet, raw words. Even though you were drowning in your own pain, you could sense it seeping from him. Your heart thumping in your chest, you took a step closer. "Please, Minho... I am not planning on leaving. Just don't ignore me. Together, we might resolve this.” He remained silent for quite some time. However, you stayed put. You stayed there, both of you trapped in the limbo of suffering and annoyance, close yet still far away. His hand hesitated as though it would have reached for you, but he stopped.

He sighed at last, his breath trembling, the weight of everything between you two bearing down on him. He made a tiny move, brushing your palm with his, but it was the most subdued apology he could offer. His voice was almost heard, but he was sincere when he said, "I'm sorry." "I just want some time. I'll talk with you when I'm ready. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you nodded. "All right. I'll hold off. Just don't be silent for too long. Minho didn't respond, but you could tell he hadn't actually cut you off—at least not entirely—by the glint of remorse in his eyes. Not forever.

Even if it passed for the time being, the silence between you lingered, serving as a reminder that sometimes the quiet that followed a fight was just as difficult.

—

It seemed like there had been no end to the silence between you and Minho. For days, the room felt heavy, and you both cautiously avoided each other, not knowing how to heal the rift that had developed. However, time was doing its silent magic, and gradually the barriers you had put up between each other started to come down.

It started with the small things.

You noticed that Minho was beginning to leave small signs of himself where he typically didn't. His jacket was carelessly placed on the chair's back, as though he had decided it didn't need to be neatly folded. His shoes kicked off at the door in a hurry, a sign that he was starting to feel like his own home again. Nevertheless, things didn't start to change until you were in the kitchen making coffee one morning. Minho came into the room quietly, his hair a little disheveled from sleep, and he was still dressed in pajama trousers. For a long time, he watched you from the doorframe, his face unreadable.

Although you both understood that the silence between you wouldn't last forever, you kept silent at first. You just continued doing what you were doing because you had to take the initiative and didn't want to push him. He apologized in a low, reluctant voice that sounded almost like he was trying things out. His eyes were on the floor, not looking into your eyes, and his hands were in his pockets. "For everything."

Your heart skipped a beat as you froze. It was there. The first break in the silence: the words you've been waiting for. The weight of all that had been left unsaid made your chest tighten as you turned to face him. You started to say, "Minho," but your voice trailed off as your throat filled with emotion. When he finally looked into your eyes, his face softened and he took a step forward. "I should have spoken to you. "I shouldn't have pushed you away like that," he added in a remorseful tone. "I simply... I shut you out rather than letting you in because I didn't know how to deal with anything.”

You gave a small shake of your head, not because you didn't comprehend, but rather because the pain and suffering of those silent days remained present. You tried to control your emotions as you whispered, "I know you needed space, Minho." But when you refused to communicate with me, I was at a loss on how to make things better. I was really lost. He took tentative but resolute steps toward you. Almost whispering, he replied, "I don't want you to feel lost." "I apologize for making you feel that way. I just want you to understand that it wasn't about you. I was the one. I've honestly been overwhelmed.

The pain in your chest slowly begins to ease as you finally release a breath you were unaware you were holding. "I get it, Minho. Yes, I do. But if you don't let me in, I can't support. At that moment, he extended his hand and lightly touched yours. The tender touch served as a reminder that you were still there for one another despite the stillness. "I'll try," he answered in a quiet but genuine tone. "I swear. I'll let you in more. I don't want to isolate you again.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the relief of hearing him say it. For the first time in days, you put your arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug as you moved closer, your heart overflowing with emotion. After a moment of hesitation, Minho wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, allowing you to both feel as though the burden of the last few days had been lifted. It was a subtle acknowledgment of guilt and a subconscious understanding that although things weren't flawless, they could still be fixed.

You muttered, "I'm here, Minho," against his chest. "I'm not leaving either." His voice was muffled as he talked into your hair, holding you closer. “I know. I’m sorry for making you feel like you didn’t matter. You do. You always have.”

Even though there was still some tension, hurt, and stillness, it didn't matter just now. The important thing was that you were both prepared to start over and, no matter how long it took, find your way back to one another.

Minho then said, "Let's take it slow," while planting a gentle kiss on your forehead and wearing the smallest of smiles. “But let's do it together.”

From then on, you were aware that you would deal with any challenges together; there would be no more silence, only love, understanding, and patience.

—

nini’s notes 111124

hi everyone! this is my first full length fic & it’s angst! i personally lovee reading angst so i thought i’d try it out, i hope you enjoy & don’t forget to leave any feedback that you may have 🤗🫶

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

[guest-1-2-3]

Me wondering why I feel so indifferent whenever I give my mother advice on things in our weird little therapy sessions and why i can speak so matter-of-factly about the fucked up shit and weird dynamics and things we navigate—i think i just hella suppress my emotions lol

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟

　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris misplace his priorities.

WARNING: Fighting, crying, cursing. ANGST with a happy ending.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched Chris frantically scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to her. The silence in the living room echoed the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks, the memory of the previous day's event still fresh in Y/N's mind.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N sighed contentedly as she set the dark wooden table carefully, placing the plates and cutlery impeccably. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing Chris's favorite dish, with fresh ingredients, for the romantic dinner they had planned to have after the triplets recorded the video that would be posted next Friday. Everything was perfect, except for the emptiness that began to settle in her chest as the hours passed and Chris didn't appear.

At eight sharp, Y/N sat at the table, her heart filled with anticipation and anxiety. She watched the stairs leading to the front door with every sound she heard, willing him to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety turned to despair.

Nine o'clock passed, and Y/N was still sitting alone at the table, her stomach churning with hunger and worry and her eyes staring into space, small tears burning her cornea. She tried calling Chris several times, but every call went to voicemail, as well as her messages going unread.

At ten o'clock, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Thick tears began to stream down her face as she looked at the still untouched plate in front of her. The romantic dinner she had so lovingly prepared now seemed like a cruel reminder of her dashed hope.

With a choked sob, Y/N got up from the table, feeling completely desolate, her belly hurting from the weight and sobs that made her body shake. She carefully put the food away in the fridge, her hands shaking with disappointment.

That night, Y/N fell asleep in her boyfriend's room with a heavy heart and eyes swollen with tears, wondering if she would ever have the courage to take some initiative, before it was too late.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was standing in front of the cinema, her heart full of expectation as she held a bucket of popcorn in her hands. She looked from side to side nervously, trying to spot Chris among the crowds rushing along the sidewalk. Time was running out, and her nervousness increased as the clock on her phone showed just ten minutes until the start of the movie, and her boyfriend still hadn't appeared.

And then, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, Y/N's phone vibrated, indicating a new message. She grabbed the device anxiously, hoping to see an apology or explanation from Chris for the delay. But what she heard was something that made her shake with rage.

"Hi, baby." Chris’s voice sounded through the voicemail, but instead of an apology, there was a note of indifference in his words. "I know we planned to go to the movies today, but a last-minute party came up that I really need to go to. Do you remember Tara Yummy? It's hers! Well, I'm sorry for canceling like that at the last minute. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Bye."

Y/N felt her world collapse upon hearing those words. Chris's betrayal, his indifference to her feelings as he sent her the message just to break her as if it was some kind of promise, cut like a sharp knife. She clutched her phone tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Anger and sadness consumed her, bubbling inside her chest like a volcano about to erupt. With a cry of frustration, Y/N threw the bucket of popcorn and the tickets into the nearest trash bin, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she felt suffocated by disappointment and pain.

And that night, Y/N walked away from the cinema, her heart broken and her confidence destroyed.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Chris." She began, shaking her head gently to shake the memories away, her voice trembling with the anguish she carried. "We need to talk."

Chris looked up from his phone for a moment, his tired eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the bright screen in his hands.

"Not now, Y/N. I'm busy."

Those words hit Y/N like a punch in the stomach. She felt increasingly isolated and neglected, while Chris's world revolved around his career and his influential friends.

"You're always busy, Chris." Y/N murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. "There's never time for us."

Chris sighed, irritation rising across his skin like a shiver. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at the girl again, giving her a look full of hatred, which she had never seen before.

"I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that. I can't just ignore my work to pay attention to you."

"I'm not asking you to ignore it." Y/N snapped, her voice rising in desperation. "I'm just asking for a little time for us. For our relationship. Yesterday you-"

Chris shook his head quickly, interrupting her, the traces of frustration deepening on his face.

"I already said I'm sorry! You always do this, Y/N. You're always trying to change who I am and what I do. You always try to change my priorities, like my world has to revolve around you. That's not how things work!"

Those words cut Y/N like a sharp blade, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wasn't trying to change him. She just wanted to feel like he cared about her as much as he cared about his fame, but instead, he made her feel like a random crumpled up piece of paper.

"I just want you to include me in your life." Y/N whispered, her voice shaking with pain as her eyes blinked repeatedly, her eyelashes slowly becoming wet with tiny droplets from tears. "But it always seems like there's something more important."

Chris snorted, throwing the phone roughly onto his lap and turning abruptly to face her, an expression of disdain filling his eyes.

"You know what? Maybe it would be better if you took some time to think about what you really want, because it seems to me that everything I do isn't enough, and if you're not genuinely happy in this relationship, maybe you should evaluate your preferences!"

Chris' words echoed in Y/N's mind, leaving her stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by a train of conflicting emotions.

With a lump in her throat, the girl stood up from the couch abruptly, her legs shaking under the weight of her grief as her chest burned intensely, anguish gnawing at her insides.

"Maybe you're right." Y/N muttered, shrugging, her voice cracking with pain. "Maybe I need some time to figure out what I really want... Right?"

Chris watched in silence as Y/N walked away, her tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the sobs that wanted to escape.

The brunette frowned, watching his girlfriend's wet cheeks against the cool light of the room, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten, begging to call her back, and apologize, but the words seemed to get stuck.

And so, Y/N left the triplets house that night, taking with her a broken heart and a soul full of uncertainty about the future of their relationship.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The frigid night air bit into Chris' skin as he walked through the empty streets of LA, his body shaking not only from the cold but also from the anxiety and remorse that consumed him. He couldn't bear another night without Y/N by his side, without feeling her comforting touch and hearing her soft laugh filling the silence.

His steps were heavy and slow, each carrying the weight of days of loneliness and regret that piled up on his shoulders. The memory of Y/N's desolate and disappointed face haunted his thoughts, an image that haunted him incessantly, preventing him from finding peace even at bedtime.

Chris knew he had done wrong, that he had hurt the person he loved most in the world with his negligence and misplaced priorities. He blamed himself for his actions, for putting his work and his friends before her, for leaving her alone and helpless at times when she needed him most, or just wanted his company and love.

The mere memory of coming home on Thursday before everything fell apart, and finally seeing all the lost messages from his girl, along with a plate full of his favorite food neatly packed in the fridge made his heart ache as if human hands were squeezing it.

As he made his way through the deserted streets, the silence of the night was deafening, a cruel metaphor for the loneliness he had caused himself. Each step brought him closer to the home that had once been his refuge, the place where he found comfort in Y/N's arms and where he hoped he could right the wrongs he had done.

Finally, the brunette arrived at the door of the small, simple house, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he hesitated to ring the doorbell. He knew he didn't deserve Y/N's forgiveness, that his empty words and broken promises couldn't erase the pain he caused.

But he had to try. He had to show her that he was sorry, that he loved her more than anything in this world, and that he would do anything to have her back by his side.

With a shaky sigh, Chris finally pressed the doorbell and waited, his heart hammering in his chest as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an act of nervousness, the cold of the night penetrating his bones.

On the other side of the door, Y/N hesitated, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to gather the courage to face the stranger that was there. The last few days had been a storm of sadness and loneliness, her mind spinning in circles of anguish as she struggled to understand what had happened between her and Chris, where everything went wrong.

When she finally mustered enough courage to turn the doorknob, what she saw made her freeze in place. Chris was there, standing in front of her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His face was contorted into an expression of pain and regret, and Y/N felt her heart tighten even more at the sight of the person she loved so much in a deplorable state.

"Chris." Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to process the scene before her eyes.

Chris didn't say anything, he couldn't. He just sobbed, thick tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he fought to contain the overwhelming emotions that overwhelmed him. His body shook violently, each sob a painful reminder of all the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks.

Y/N felt tears in her own eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped Chris in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder as she gently stroked his hair, her own tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

For long minutes, they stayed there, lost in each other's arms that transcended the words and hurts. It was as if, in that moment, their wounded souls found a refuge in each other, a source of comfort and peace amid the chaos their lives had become.

"Baby! B-baby, I'm- I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry-" The boy's words came out in broken sobs, his words almost incomprehensible.

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart clenching by her own pain. With a sigh, she pulled away lightly, holding his hand firmly and gently guiding him into her house, closing the door behind them, the warmth of the walls enveloping their cold bodies.

Y/N led Chris over to the living room couch, keeping a cautious distance as he sat down next to her on the cushioned seat. Uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, as Y/N waited patiently for Chris to find the words to express what was in his heart.

Finally, after a long moment, Chris broke the silence, his voice still cracked from his recent crying.

"Baby, I... I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you deeply with my actions, and I never wanted to make you feel that way."

Chris sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to find the right words, his right leg bouncing up and down in anxiety.

"I was so obsessed with YouTube, with my success, that I ended up neglecting the most important thing in my life: you. I got lost in the cool lights and the adrenaline of fame, and I forgot how much you mean to me. And I'm so fucking sorry for that." His lower lip trembled slightly, making him trap it between his teeth.

The boy's words cut deep into Y/N, reigniting the pain and hurt she had kept inside. She felt tempted to step away to protect her heart from the possibility of being hurt again. But something in Chris's eyes made her hesitate, something she recognized as genuine regret and love.

"Chris..." Y/N began, her voice shaky and filled with uncertainty. "You don't understand how much it hurt me every time you kept me waiting, every time you put your work and your friends before me. I felt so alone, so unappreciated."

"I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I would do anything to make things right, to prove that you're my real priority." Chris lowered his head, frowning and fixing his eyes on his legs, guilt weighing on his shoulders.

Y/N raised her right hand, taking it to his chin covered with the beard he had let grow in the last few days, pushing it up so that she could look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation reflected there.

She wanted to believe him and wanted to open her heart to forgiveness and the possibility of a future together again. But the pain of everything that had been done brought her such insecurity that she knew she needed time to heal.

"I don't know, Chris." Y/N murmured, the hand that was holding his chin falling with a thud onto her lap. "I'm still hurt, I'm still trying to process everything that happened. I don't know if I can just forgive and forget."

Chris swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes as his mind screamed at him to do everything, anything. Even if he needed to kneel in front of his girl to get her back.

"Please, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything to make this right, to be the boyfriend you deserve. Just give me a chance to prove that I can change."

Y/N looked at him again, seeing the vulnerability in his gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but there was something about Chris, something she couldn't ignore, something that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to the way they were before.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached her hand out to Chris again, taking his and intertwining their fingers tightly, her heart warming with the touch she had missed so much.

"I forgive you, Chris." She murmured, her voice sounding soft but her eyes carrying an indescribable firmness. "But know that things are going to have to change. Your priorities are going to have to take the right path this time."

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[bangtanficsforyou]

Out of the Woods (JJK)-01

Pairing: Husband! Jungkook x Reader

Au: married couple au

Genre: it's just a pure angst ride 😩 (it's my attempt to write an asshole jk, hehe)

Rating: 18+

Word count: 10K (i swear I thought it'd be like 6K 😩)

Summary: You can’t remember the moment your marriage slipped into silence, like a forgotten melody fading into the background. Each day, you feel yourself drifting further into the shadows, invisible and abandoned. But when you learn that Jungkook spent your birthday with his ex, something sharp and unyielding stirs within you. The delicate thread you’ve held onto for so long finally breaks. You've reached the end.

Patreon Masterlist | Lastest on Patreon

This is a patreon exclusive fic available for all tiers.

While we are it, can I just say I'm incredibly grateful for the support I've been receiving on Patreon. It means the world to me 🥺💝.

A thought flickered in your mind—should you call him? You immediately cringed at the idea.

The doubts swirled around you like a storm, but the longing continued to pulse within you, relentless and demanding.

After a few moments of heated internal debate, you found yourself weighing the options. 

It might just lead to disappointment, you reasoned, but deep down, you craved to hear his voice. With a shaky breath, you pulled out your phone, heart racing. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, trying to muster some courage.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, the familiar dread creeping in. The uncertainty of whether he would pick up loomed large, but you just wanted to try. You wanted to reach out, even if it led to another disappointment.

You took a deep breath and hit the call button, heart pounding in your chest. The ringing echoed in your ears, each chime heightening your anticipation. But when it went to voicemail, a wave of disappointment washed over you. 

Typical, you thought, biting your lip. You hesitated for just a moment, battling with yourself, but then you called again. The phone rang, and you clung to hope, willing him to pick up. Yet again, it slipped into voicemail. 

Frustration bubbled up within you, but you shook it off. He was probably too occupied to bother picking up your calls. With a meeting or something important. You knew that. Still, it was hard to ignore the way your heart sank further with each unanswered call. 

Finally, you hit the call button one more time. This time, however, a creeping sense of worry settled in the pit of your stomach. What if something is wrong? You hated the thought, and even more so, you hated yourself for feeling this way, for worrying about him, when he couldn’t care less.

After the third ring, it became painfully clear he wasn’t picking up. The disappointment transformed into anxiety, spiralling into a gnawing worry that you couldn’t shake. You knew you were being ridiculous; Jungkook was a jerk who often left you hanging, but that didn’t stop the unease that clung to you.

You sighed and looked into your reflection in the mirror. As you are left to stare at yourself, you feel a mix of disappointment, hurt, anger and worry.

Despite everything, you feel this urge just to make sure that he’s okay. That feeling is only accompanied with anger.

Sure, you feel angry at Jungkook. But you also feel angry at yourself for worrying about him.

This is also one of the major reasons as to why you avoid calling Jungkook unless extremely necessary. You get worried literally every time he doesn’t pick up the call (which is all the time), only for it to turn out something along the lines of him being too busy to be able to answer his phone.

Sometimes, you just wish you could be as careless about him as he’s about you.

Continue reading

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

Azriel x Third-oldest-archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…

warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)

word count: 3,888

-Part 2[*]-

“How was she today?”

You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.

“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.

Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.

Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.

“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.

“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.

It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.

You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.

Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.

What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?

“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.

A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.

But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.

So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.

“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”

“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.

“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?

“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.

“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.

“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.

“What else?”

You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.

“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.

My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.

“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”

“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.

His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.

“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”

“What did you think?”

You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”

“She doesn’t love him.”

“I know she says that, but—”

“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”

“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”

Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”

“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”

“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”

“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”

“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.

“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”

“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”

His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”

“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?

Anti-climactic.

Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.

“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.

His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.

He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.

“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”

There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.

“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.

“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.

It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.

But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”

“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.

He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.

“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”

Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”

Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.

But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.

“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”

“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”

And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?

For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.

“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”

You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.

In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.

But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.

How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.

He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.

But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?

Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.

He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

[wwilsonbarness]

I messed up.. (part 2)

pairings:  bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky tries to apologise for the things he said... do you accept?

warnings: angstttt, some fluff, anxiety?, idkk i think that's all :)

word count: 2535

a/n: I'm so sorry it took so long for part 2. I hated what I first wrote and my week ended up super busy. I'm so scared to post this lmao I hope it doesn't disappoint!

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

part one

masterlist

Sam insisted you took it easy for the rest of the night, he brought you dinner in bed, checked on you every hour, and brought you everything you could need. You appreciated it but at the same time you just wanted to lay in bed alone and cry. For the first few hours it was out of sadness, seeing Bucky that angry with you made your chest ache, the thought of disappointing him was something you couldn’t handle, but as the hours passed the sadness slowly turned into anger. The more you replayed his words in your mind the angrier you got, how could he imply you didn’t care about your baby? 

Ever since you were a little girl yourself you had wanted to be a mom, it was your dream and Bucky knew that.You had both spent countless nights talking for hours on end about how excited you were to have a baby together, you thought he was excited too but were you and your baby just a burden to him? A problem he had to sort out? Did he even want this?

Hours had passed and you were starting to drift to sleep when you heard voices outside your bedroom door. Part of you wanted to stay in bed and ignore whoever it was but when you heard Bucky’s voice you jump out of bed. 

“I just want to check if she's okay.” You hear Bucky’s voice through the door, slightly louder than he normally speaks, a clear sign he was getting frustrated. You hear a second voice but you can’t figure out who it is until you move closer, it was Sam.

“You… chance..screwed up..” It’s muffled but you can guess what he said. You keep walking closer to the door and go to open it as you hear a third voice. 

“Barnes, you need to leave her be, you’ve done enough tonight.” That was definitely Tony, he was the only one to call Bucky by his last name. 

You weren’t ready to face Bucky yet but you didn’t want to have to listen to them arguing any longer so you opened the door, to be faced with Bucky standing right in front of you, Tony to the side of him and Sam a few doors down outside his room. 

“Can you guys argue somewhere else please?” Bucky’s head flys round at the sound of your voice. He instantly looks you up and down, focusing on your bump for a few seconds longer than anywhere else, which reminds you of how he had looked at you earlier. You bring your hand up to your stomach without realising. 

“Doll, are you okay?” You could see the concern in his eyes this time but you couldn’t get past the anger you were feeling. 

“I’m fine, Bucky. I just want to sleep so can you three go somewhere else if you’re gonna shout at each other.” Bucky’s face started to lighten up in relief for a second but tensed up again as you continued. 

“I’m sorry, can we please talk?” He starts to walk closer to you but you flinch and move backwards into your room. You weren’t scared of him but you couldn’t handle this tonight. Bucky’s face drops as he watches you move away from him. “Doll I just want to-” 

“I don’t have the energy tonight Bucky, please can you just leave me alone.” You look at each other for a few seconds before you plead again, “Please.” Bucky slightly nods his head but you don’t wait for any other type of response before you close your door. 

You lean your head against the door as it shuts, taking a deep breath in as an attempt to keep yourself calm. You hear Bucky and Tony throw a couple more sentences at each other, resulting in Tony asking F.R.I.D.A.Y to lock your door to anyone but him and Sam. You didn’t want to shut Bucky out but the things he said to you really hurt your feelings and if you were to talk to him about it now you would end up saying things you regret. You just wanted and needed time to yourself to calm down. You climb back into bed and go to sleep to try and forget about the whole situation, it takes a few hours but sleep finally washes over you. 

You could only sleep for a few hours before your morning sickness hit. Without Bucky there to help you like every other morning it was a lot harder to deal with. After sitting beside the toilet for a few minutes you manage to run yourself a bath and relax for a bit. You wanted to put off talking with Bucky as long as you could, you knew he’d already be awake as he was every day, probably in the kitchen making breakfast. 

You hear a knock at your door as you're in the bath which brings you out of your thoughts about Bucky, but when you reach the door all that’s there is a tray with waffles, fruit and orange juice on it. You pick it up and place it on your desk to find a note, recognising Bucky’s handwriting straight away you pick it up.

I’m sorry for everything I said and did. I want to make it up to you when you are ready to talk. I know you’ve probably been unwell this morning so I hope this makes you feel better. I put some gummy bears on the waffles since I know you’ve been craving sweet things. I love you and baby so much - Buck x 

You feel your eyes tear up as you read each word, and even though you’re mad at him all you want in this moment is for Bucky to hold you. You quickly get dressed and start to walk towards the kitchen, hoping he’s still there. To your luck he was still hovering around the cooker cleaning up his mess from cooking breakfast.

“Buck?” His head whips around at lightning speed to the sound of your voice. He takes one step towards you before stopping himself, remembering how you reacted last night. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you more.

“Doll, are you okay?” 

“Mhmm, can we talk?” Bucky lets out a huge breath he wasn’t aware he was holding as you speak, he wants nothing more than to talk to you. 

“Of course doll, wanna sit over here?” He points his hand towards the couch in the corner of the room. You nod your head and walk over. When you both sit down it’s quiet for a few minutes, both of you equally scared to break the silence until Bucky speaks. 

“Are you scared of me?” He asks, tone soft as if he’s scared of what the answer might be.

“No, Bucky I’d never be scared of you.” His shoulders start to relax in relief but not for long as you continue. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you.” 

“I am so so sorry y/n, I promise you I didn’t mean anything I said, I was just scared which I know isn’t an excuse but it’s the truth. My worst fear is losing you, and now with the baby on the way I’m even more scared of losing you both. When I heard Sam telling Tony and Nat that you were seen with a bump it was.. It was like my brain just took over, I kept imagining you being hurt and I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that happened. I can’t lose you, either of you. If you let me, I promise I will try my best to make things back the way they were.” 

Bucky’s speech took you off guard, you were expecting and hoping to speak first so you could get everything out while you felt able to, you had to try so hard to hold back your tears. You could tell he was sorry and honestly part of you just wanted to say it’s okay, tell him you forgave him, that everything was fine but the other part of you was still focused on his horrible words yesterday, and you knew things would never be okay again unless you told him how he made you feel. “I just need to get this off my chest Bucky, I know you’re sorry but I still need to say this. He nods his head to show he understands you.

You take a deep breath and prepare yourself to speak. “First off, I just want to make it completely clear, that” you bring your hand to your stomach and cup the small bump you have, “I love and care so much for this baby, more than anything or anyone else in the world. So when you said that to me, said that I.. That I didn’t care, it really really hurt me. I know I went against what we agreed, I know I scared you, but that didn’t give you a right to talk to me the way you did.” 

“I kno-” Bucky tries to respond but you don’t let him. Your voice is beginning to shake and there are tears starting to fall from your eyes. Bucky’s heart was breaking at seeing you so upset.. all because of him.

“No, please let me finish. I.. I know you care about me and our baby, I know you do but you went way too far. You were so worried about other people hurting me you didn’t realise that you were the one doing it.” 

You can hear Bucky swallow deeply as he listens, his eyes growing wetter with every word, it was hard for him to hear but he knew everything you were saying was true. He had done the one thing he swore he never would, he hurt you and he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for it. “You promised me that you would never hurt me, and I believed you.” Your voice cracks with your last words, and the tears finally escape. “You made me feel like we were burdening you, like we were just a problem to you, something you had to deal with.”

Bucky desperately wants to reach out and comfort you but he stops himself. He keeps his eyes locked with yours and you nod your head a little, a silent way of telling him that it was his turn to talk. He nods back and readies himself, he had a lot he wanted to say but now he’d heard how much he had hurt you, it was like his brain had forgotten everything. 

“You have to know that you both are the most important people in my life, you could never be a burden to me, ever. I'm so sorry I made it feel that way. Y/N I know I hurt you, I want.. I need you to know that when I made that promise I meant it, I’ve never intended to hurt you, and for the rest of my life, as long as you’ll have me I promise, with every single part of me that I will care and love for you and our baby.” You are starting to choke up at what he is saying but try so hard not to let it show. 

“I’m not going to lie to you, I’ll always be scared of something happening to you both and nothing’s gonna ever change that, but I know now that I need to find other ways of working through that. I’ll do anything it takes for you to forgive me. I want to be there for you and our baby forever.” He looks down to your bump, his gaze softens, a slight smile grows, and with a quiet, soft voice he continues. 

“I can’t wait to see you be a mom, you’re gonna be the best there is. I really mean it, our baby is so lucky to have you as a parent.” When he looks up he tries to understand how you’re feeling but your face is pretty much blank, you were in shock. You’d only been in two relationships before Bucky but not once had either of them apologised for something they did, now Bucky was practically begging you to forgive him, you didn’t know how to take it. You just knew you couldn’t lose him.

“Buck.. As much as I hate how you spoke to me, I don’t want to let this argument get between us, I want things to change. I know you are scared and I understand that.. I’m scared too, but we can get through it together. We are strong enough to not let this break us apart, okay?” 

Bucky lets out a huge breath he didn’t even realise he was holding in. “Doll, I want nothing more than for us to be okay.” 

You stand up and put your hand out towards him, “Come on, I got you something.” He hesitantly grabs your hand, and follows you to your room. Just as you reach the door he stops, and drops his hand out of yours. “Bucky.. It’s okay you can come in.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks hesitantly.

“I’m positive.” He smiles slightly at your answer then follows you in.

“I got youu…” You trail your words out as you dig for his gift. “This.” You pass him the teddy, expecting to smile but instead he frowns, rubbing his thumb over each word as he reads it. 

“You don’t like it?” you ask him, taking a seat next to him. 

“I do,” He forces a smile out, “I’m just worried I won’t be a good dad. I’m just scared doll.” He looks up to you again and sees your eyes still glossy, and he feels he has to defend his words. “I am excited, please know I am. I just don’t wanna mess up again.” He reaches out to touch your stomach and you see him hesitating so you put your hand on top of his and gently push it onto your stomach.

“It’s gonna be okay Buck, I trust you.” You lay your head on his shoulder and cuddle into him, “We’re gonna be okay.” 

“I love you both so much.” 

“And we love you too.” Just as you finish speaking your stomach rumbles, which startles Bucky.

“Oh my god. Was that the baby??” 

You had to hold in your laughter as you replied to him, it was way too early for the baby to kick. “No Bucky, I’m just hungry.” He follows your gaze to the tray with the breakfast he made you. 

“Dolll… you didn’t eat?” You shake your head and Bucky stands up and brings it to bed.”Wanna share?” 

“Of course.” He picks up a gummy bear but before he can put it in his mouth you grab it.

“Hey!” He looks at you confused. 

“Sorry,” you say between your giggles, “you aren't getting any of the gummy bears, baby wants all of them.” 

“Oh yeah? Baby wants all of them? Sureee.” You were both laughing now, as you tried to get all the gummy bears before him.

tags: (tagging everyone who was interested, sorry if I miss anyone!)

@missvelvetsstuff @learisa @pattiemac1 @satanstittyss @opheliabarnes @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @kandis-mom @lokislady82 @k4t13l0u1s3 @jbbarnesgirl @nikkivillar @sarahjoestewy-blog @aboobie @queerqueenlynn @shabanggg @topguncultleader @wintrsoldrluvr @invalid-croissant @ada728 @that-girl-named-alex @spoopiloops @mayusenpai666 @paarthurnax59 @cl7ire @hereforfun22-blog @almosttoopizza @trixiekaulitz @aweleyirene @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @mavrellover91 @yeselmolovesyou

[kalki-tarot]

A conversation between you and your future spouse – timeless pac 💌

Disclaimer : this reading is for entertainment purposes only and does not guarantee any possible outcomes. Tarot is not 100% correct all the times. Your life is in your hands and you are responsible for your own actions and decisions.

Pile one 💫

This situation seems like some third party is affecting your relationship. The third party can be anything from people to things to addictions etc. You assumed thay future spouse may have lied to you about something which caused a fight between you guys. Remember that fights are normal in a relationship. And can be resolved with proper communication and understanding.

Your fs : See, I'm too disappointed with this situation and i deeply regret it. But you see, it's not entirely my fault..

You : I'm completely heartbroken because of you

Your fs : I clearly left and ignored that woman when she approached me darling, I walked away! I don't even know that woman!

Your anger calms down when your fs explains themselves. And you feel relieved. You may have insecurities about your fs leaving you for some other woman, so you got angry.

You : You know that I'm scared of you leaving me alone for someone else

Your fs : I know that, and i will never leave you sweetheart! Do you get that!? Don't get insecure about anything. I'm always yours. You are my better half and you are the only one with whom i feel at home, at peace.

Your fs comforts you and tells you how much you mean to them and you need not worry about anything or anyone. They also hug you and rub your back for sometime. This situation may take place while you guys are on a trip or traveling somewhere.

Pile two 💫

Wow, this conversation will take place when you are getting married or about to get married to your fs. You are happy and excited but you are also having racing thoughts and a restless heart. You are just feeling nervous about the whole thing, some of you guys actually suffer from overthinking and anxiety. And you are having intrusive thoughts at this moment.

Your fs : Hey honey ~ why are you standing there all alone? Come! Have fun with all our friends and relatives. Let's have a drink together ^^

You just stand there silent and say : Umh, I'm actually kinda scared.. to get married i guess..? This all seems to fast to me. I'm having intrusive thoughts, my mind is thinking of all the possibilities ahh! I'm getting frustrated... this feels like a big change for me. It's not that i don't want to get married with you it's just.. too fast for me!

Your fs : Hey hey hey! Calm down! I'm here for you. This may feel too fast but think of how joyful you were when we first decided to get married! It's a new beginning for both of us, i can understand you. You just need to relax. Don't worry about anything, I'll take the lead and do everything for you. You just take a deep breathe and calm yourself.

Your fs calms you down and assures you. You feel better when you hear them talk about taking care of you well. And you know from the deep corners of your heart that they will make a good spouse. Your anxiety feels relieved. And you are happy to have them in your life as a counterpart.

Pile 03 💫

This conversation can happen when you are going through a tough time in regards of your career. You are struggling between work and deadlines. You are completely exhausted but you are still working hard. Even people in your workplace may not appreciate you enough and you feel disappointed with yourself.

Your fs : hey nerd ;) where your eyes lookin' at? Come let's have some fun, take a break would you? Let's go out somewhere shall we?

You : Can you please not disturb me? I'm doing something important rn. And I'm not going anywhere till i finish this !

You frown and continue with your work. Your fs notices that.

Your fs : what happened dear? Is everything alright ? Are you stressed about anything?

You : yes! I am! Anything to do with you?

Your fs : why are u getting mad sweetie? 😋

You : AHHAHASAHAH, I'm so f**king stressed about this damn work i have to do. no one even notices my hardwork and patience! I'm sick of this!

Your fs : I appreciate you, your family appreciates you and you should change your godamn job if it keeps you hurting all the time yk? You have so much money already you should start some business or smth.

You : You know what! You are absolutely correct. I should start something of my own.

Your fs motivated you to leave your toxic work environment and start something of your own.

[cntloup]

Love Is Not Enough

Fem!Reader angst, hurt/no comfort

Part 1 | Part 2

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside and the beams of sunshine reaching the soft skin of your cheeks through the white linen curtains.

You stretch your body, let out a shaky sigh and place your feet on the warm parquet, making your way towards the sound of shuffling and rattling of plates in the kitchen.

“Good morning, lovie.” he greets with a faint smile. “G’morning, Si.” you mumble, lost in your mind. There's a heavy weight on your chest and you ponder on how to bring up the issue.

He narrows his eyes with concern, “Is there something wrong?” he questions. You hum, not totally present, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach.

A few moments pass, until you can’t take it anymore, “Si, we need to talk.” you finally blurt out. “I need to tell you something first." he says, guilt and shame filling up his heart.

You nod, "I talked to Price about the vacation leave, and I can’t take it right now. I'm so sorry. But I promise I will. Soon.” he speaks apologetically, ashamed to have disappointed you.

“What?” you ask with disbelief, feeling disheartened. “But you said...” your lips wobble and a lump forms in your throat. Even though you weren't sure it would fix everything, but you were hoping it would help just a little.

How naive of you to believe he would put you before his work just once. But you chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. And he broke your heart yet again.

“Si, you’ve been working and working the past year. You don’t spend time with me anymore. We're falling apart. Am I the only one who feels it? Or you think last night solved it? Sex doesn’t fix everything, Simon!” you shout, finally taking out your anger and frustration.

“I know that. But I never thought- what do you mean we’re falling apart? No! We can work through this!” he tries to reassure you, his heart crumbling in his chest at the thought of losing you.

"How, Simon? You thought you can put everything on hold? Put me on hold? And come back whenever you wanted?" you yell at him, frustrated.

"I just need some time." he replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Simon, you had plenty of time. Nothing will change. You won’t change. You're not willing to put in even the slightest bit of effort. I'm the only one constantly fighting for this relationship to work." you argue.

"You knew what you got yourself into when you married me. What do you want? You want me to leave my work? I can't fuckin' do that! Maybe you're not mature enough for this relationship!" he finally snaps, raising his voice higher with each word.

You scoff at his words, "So I'm the only one who should make sacrifices? Simon, that's not how relationships work!" you shout back.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down, "Your work always comes first. I know that now." you say, defeated expression written on your face as you finally give up fighting this futile fight.

You walk away towards the bedroom. Moments later, you come back with the papers and place them on the counter.

"What are these?" he asks, "Divorce papers." you reply coldly. “What?” his mouth hangs open and his eyes widen, immediately regretting his previous words as he sees how serious you are.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I want a divorce. I think it’s for the best.” you mention calmly and he looks at you as though he sees a different person.

He can't believe the words that just came out of your mouth and how calm you are about it. What he doesn't know is that your heart is being torn apart as you speak the words.

“No! No fuckin' way!” he responds firmly. “What do you mean no? You can’t just say no!” you retort. “No! I won’t divorce you! You're my wife! I won’t...” he shuts his eyes and lets out a sigh, “Give me some time, please!” he pleads with tears in his eyes and you nearly give in at the sight of him.

"I did. Countless times. I can't take it anymore. Deal with a cold and empty home, frightened out of my mind about your safety. I think you should think this through, Simon. There's no other way.” you say, gently touching his arm, trying so hard to keep yourself from breaking down right in front of him.

He stands there, heartbroken and bewildered, trying to digest what just happened, silent tears dampening his cheeks.

You make your way to your shared bedroom and start packing your stuff, shedding tears as the memories flash before your eyes and you weep, mourning your marriage with the man whom you will always love.

"Wait! Where are you going?" he walks up to you, standing in the doorframe, preventing you from passing. "Simon, let me go please." you plead, hoping he wouldn't, hoping for him to take a step towards you for once.

"I love you. We can fix this. Please!" he implores, sobbing. "How?" you ask, desperately hoping for an answer.

But there is none as it dawns on him. There's no other way. And it's not fair to you to go on like this.

You hold his face in your hands, caressing the scars on his cheeks and upper lip, "I love you, Simon. But that’s not enough, is it?"

Years have passed and he still can’t forgive himself for what he has done, cursing himself for pushing you away to the point of entirely leaving his life and for not fighting for you harder.

He still ponders on what he could’ve done differently as his head hangs low, sitting on the sofa, holding a glass of whiskey, fidgeting with the ring in his hand, wondering if you kept yours too.

He wishes he could forget you, the sound of your beautiful voice, your heavenly features and your delicate touch, but you're the only one there is for him, his whole mind and soul immersed in you. He belongs to you and you belong to him. 

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

@preeyansha

@icouldntthinkofanythingclever

[babyleostuff]

Hiii!!! so I just read your cheol fic when he was being a dick for his s/o caring (it hurts... it's the beginning of the title, sorry brain is fried from uni) I was wondering if we could get the in-between of the fight like in the practice room after s/o left and everyone was shocked. mingyu fought him?? like gotta know what happened, anyway sorry if this is too long

hope yoyr day, night, evening, morning, or whatever time it is for you is going well!! your writing is so captivating too btw

-Nabi

thank you so much for your request 💜 hope you enjoy this!

you can find part 1 here

HURTS SO BAD | PART 2 | CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

summary | seungcheol’s pov from my previous fic

genre | angst

word count | 1k

pairing | choi seungcheol x gn!reader

“Fuck you, Seungcheol.”

Instantly, as these words escaped your mouth, he regretted every single thing he just said, praying that he could somehow turn back time. But there was nothing he could do now, the damage was done, and he simply watched you leave with a heartbroken expression.

He wanted nothing more than to crumble into a small ball and hide somewhere far from here. 

Despite the music still playing from the speakers, the silence in the room was almost deafening. Seungcheol could feel the hard stares from the boys, as they tried to wrap their heads around what just happened. 

“Did you actually lose your mind?” Jeonghan was the first to speak up. Seungcheol didn’t dare to look up and face the disappointed expressions of his friends. 

“Never in all those years we have been together have you ever said anything so cruel, no matter how fuck up things were. And now you lash out at your, mind you, partner for being worried about you?” Jeonghan scoffed, clearly angry at his bandmate. 

Seungcheol knew that there was nothing he could say or do to make this situation better, he only stood there with hunched shoulders and a tight throat. 

“What has gotten into me,” he thought.

Yes, he was stressed as hell, and everything irritated him lately, but he swore he would never take his anxiety out on you. Well, until now. 

The jacket you threw at him caught his attention, laying abandoned on the floor. Is this how you feel right now - left behind and neglected, by the person who was supposed to love you no matter what? He took a step to pick it up, still feeling the warmth of your body coming from it. 

“I’m going to fix this,” Seungcheol said quietly, putting the fabric to his chest. 

“Did I hear you right, hyung? You’re going to make it right?” laughed Mingyu, approaching the older one. “You just yelled at your partner and told them the worst things you could have ever possibly said. We can put up with your bitchy behavior, but that’s not an excuse to treat them like shit,” he said, clearly very agitated by the whole affair. 

“Let it go Mingyu, he knows what he has done. It’s his problem now how he’s going to get out of this shit,” said Jihoon, putting an arm on the taller’s shoulder to calm him down. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just basically emotionally abused one of my best friends.” 

“Hey, don’t you fucking dare saying I abused them in any way,” Seungcheol raised his voice at at younger boy, his emotions getting out of hand. “I know what I have done, and I’m going to make it right again,” he said, not exactly convinced himself. 

“So what, you think you'll buy them flowers, pout and make puppy eyes, and they'll forgive you?” he scoffed and crossed his arms, making him look bigger than he already was. 

“No, making puppy eyes is your thing, I’m not that cheap,” Seungcheol fired right back at him. 

With each exchange between Seungcheol and Mingyu the tension only escalated, the atmosphere becoming charged with a mix of anger, frustration, and hurt. Their tones harsh and cutting, both of them tried to defend their position. Sadness, and disappointment were evident on their faces, further fueling the intensity of the situation. 

“I messed up, alright? But you're acting like I hurt them on purpose-.” 

“Well, to us it looked like you wanted to-.” 

“Could you just stay the fuck away from my relationship and focus on your shitty love life?” 

The rest of the boys, who were skeptically watching what was going on, knew this wouldn’t end well. Mingyu might have been passive most of the time, letting the others walk over him and still not batting an eye, but when it comes to his friends and their well being, he wouldn’t just stand around and watch. 

Wonwoo who was standing by the mirrors slowly came up to Mingyu and patted his back. 

“There is no use Mingoo, you’re not helping here,” he said sternly. 

“Well, I have the right to be angry.” 

“No one said you didn’t, but let’s not add more fuel to the fire, okay?” 

Mingyu glared at Seungcheol for the final time, before turning around and walking out of the room. 

“I’m going to check up on him,” said Mingaho. 

As the tension evaporated the second Mingyu left, Seungcheol could feel his anger turn to sadness and powerlessness. Now not only has he hurt you, but also his friend, who was so dear to him. 

Seungcheol felt trapped, not knowing what to do next and feeling extremely mentally and emotionally drained. He sighed deeply with a blank stare, drained from all of his usual energy. 

With the silence still apparent, everyone parted ways to give Seungcheol some space. Only Jeonghan and Joshua stayed by his side, not knowing what to do. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” asked the oldest, with a tired voice. 

“We’re all here for you, Coups and you're not alone in this. Don’t worry about Mingyu for now, he’ll come around,” said Joshua. “Take a deep breath and try to think clearly about this.” 

“It's just that everything seems to be going wrong, and I feel like I have no control over it.”

“We know, but you should have just talked to them. Why didn’t you do it? Why did it have to come to this Coups?” asked Jeonghan. 

“I don’t know, I really don’t. I thought I was stronger than this, that it would pass and everything would be okay. I just didn’t want to be a burden to them.” 

“Well that didn’t end up too well,” said Joshua, laughing at Seungcheol’s pouting face. 

“Thank you for being here for me. I really need that right now.”

“Of course! That's what family is for. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re all so pissed at you right now,” said Jeonghan. 

“Yeah, for a second there I thought Mingyu was going to punch me or something,” chuckled Sungcheol. 

“I wish he did,” muttered Joshua, and walked away quickly before the oldest could respond. 

“I’m going to make this right,” thought Seungcheol. “No matter what it takes.” 

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello! I always see in writing how "and his eyes turned to cresents" and similar expressions. What does it mean and how would I go about using the term correctly?

Facial Expressions: The Eyes

I'm assuming "his eyes turned to crescents" probably comes from writing anime fan-fiction, as eyes turning to a crescent shape is a common means of illustrating emotion in anime. Outside of anime fan-fiction however, it has no meaning, because real human eyes don't turn to crescents. They can partially close, narrow, pinch, or squint, but "his eyes turned to crescents" has confusing connotations when applied to an actual human rather than an anime character.

Options for showing emotion in non-anime human eyes:

-- Eyes narrowed: suspicion, anger, deep thought -- Eyes twinkled: adoration, happiness, excitement -- Eyes darted away: guilt, anxiety, disagreement -- Eyes widened: shock, surprise, amazement -- Eyes shut: frustration, disappointment, sadness -- Eyes hardened: anger, distrust, emotional cutoff -- Eyes pinched: annoyance, consideration, deep thought -- Eyes rolled: exasperation, disbelief, annoyance -- Eyes bulged: shock, fear, strong dismay -- Eyes blinked rapidly: distress, discomfort -- Eyes dilated: interest, extreme happiness, arousal As far as similar expressions go, what you're generally looking for is called "facial expressions" which are a type of body language that convey emotion. See the following posts for more:

Showing a Character’s Feelings Illustrating Emotion with Eyes/Eye Movements

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[xxoxobree]

Mean Sometimes

Miles G x Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: Miles can be mean sometimes, even if he doesn’t mean harm.

WARNINGS: Cuss words cause 🤷🏽‍♀️

A/n: This is for my black girlies 🤣 y’all are definitely gonna relate to this , Also that is a real picture of Miles G that I took we in E42 chillin 🫢.

Miles was famous all over school for his blunt and straightforward attitude. He had a rep for never beating around the bush and always blurting out whatever came to mind, no matter how crazy it sounded.

His lack of filter had landed him in hot water a few times, but he remained himself , because he “can handle it if anyone got a problem”. Despite his bluntness, when it came to you, his "princesa," he would soften his edges.

Picture day was tomorrow ,and then came the most soul-crushing message from your hairstylist.

"Hey there, hun," she began, delivering the blow. She was canceling. Your heart sank as you absorbed the words on the screen.

"Please, please don't cancel," you silently pleaded, desperately typing out your response. But deep down, you knew it was pointless . And just as you feared, the it happened.

"I'm truly sorry, but we have to cancel and find another time to reschedule," her message read.

"No no no!" You said out loud, throwing your head back in frustration. You rested your phone down, afraid that your anger might make you throw it across the room.

"Oh my fucking gosh!" Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You got up and made your way to sit in front of your vanity.

You released your hair from the ponytail it was in, grabbed your comb, blowdryer, and a flat iron, and got to work. You had to make something work.

As you sat in front of the mirror, you began the process. 15 minutes went by, but it was not going well. You burned yourself several times with the flat iron, causing more frustration and anxiety to bubble within you, but you refused to give up.

Your hair was frizzy and unruly, but in your eyes, it was looking pretty good.

Miles, had decided to stop by after realizing you hadn't been responding to any of his messages or calls. Concern etched across his face, he knocked on your bedroom door before stepping inside.

"Miles? Why are you here?" you asked, your voice laced with annoyance as you continued to fix your hair, leaning against the vanity. The frustration in your eyes was hard to miss, and he knew all too well what it meant. Your attitude had been activated.

With a small sigh, Miles approached you,leaning on the vanity. "I was worried about you," he said. matching your attitude "You weren't answering any of my messages or calls. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

Rolling your eyes, you paused your hair-fixing efforts and looked at him, your frown deepening. "Miles, I'm trying to fix my hair.” you snapped.

"He gave your hair a look, furrowing his eyebrows. “Yo shit look like you got electrocuted.”

His words stung, and you couldn't hide the disappointment in your eyes. "Why'd you say it like that?" you whined, feeling a lump forming in your throat.

"I'm just saying, mama," he responded casually, not fully understanding the impact of his words.

"Well, does it look bad?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

"It does... yeah," Miles admitted, unaware that you were at your wits end.

"Oh, my fucking gadddddd..." The words slipped out as you threw your brush across the room in frustration. Tears welled up in your eyes, and your face flushed with anger and hurt. "You're so fucking mean sometimes, Miles," you shouted, flopping onto your bed and curling up, facing away from him.

Miles could hear your sniffles from across the room, guilt shot through his body. He took a deep breath and pushed himself off the vanity, his feet carrying him towards the bed where you sat, shoulders slumped.

"Ma!" he called out, hoping for a response but you stayed silent. "Baby, I'm sorry, okay?" he pleaded.

"You can take your sorry and get the fuck out," you whispered , your voice dripping with hurt and frustration.

Miles sighed again "Baby, I didn't mean that. You know how I am,"

"How you are is rude as fuck," you shot back, the pain still in your tone.

Miles climbed into the bed beside you, his body pressing against yours. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his voice muffled by the closeness. "I'm sorry, princessa," he murmured, the warmth of his breath causing a shiver to run down your spine. "How about I help you fix your hair?…….you smell sooo good.”

"Shut up, stupid," you whispered, a smile spreading at the corners of your lips. "And move so you can help me."

Copyright © 2023 Breeandhermunches. All rights reserved.

[vipwinnie]

Smoking Problem

Theodore Nott x reader

Summary : Theo has always been addicted to cigarettes but this time it was too much

Y/N's POV

I sat in Theo's bedroom with tears in my eyes as cigarette smoke filled the air. I watched my boyfriend, his face contorted with anger, smoking one cigarette after another. This habit had become a gap between us, an impassable wall. At the beginning of our relationship, I didn't think this would be a problem. But as time passed, I realized how cigarettes had taken over his life. I spoke to him repeatedly about the dangers to his health, to our relationship, but my words seemed to be lost in the smoke. Arguments had become commonplace. Every time I asked him to stop, he got defensive, arguing that he could smoke if he wanted. The tension between us continued to grow, until that fateful day. That day, the argument reached a level I never thought possible. My words were filled with frustration and disappointment, and his were laced with anger and resistance. The ring he had given me, a symbol of our love and our promises, had become a silent witness to our imminent destruction. In a fit of rage, I stood up, tears streaming down my cheeks, and threw the ring on the floor. The sound of metal against tile echoed through the room, marking the end of our love story. The silence that followed was deafening. But no sooner had the ring hit the ground than something unexpected happened. The boy suddenly stopped shouting and his face showed surprise. He looked down and saw the ring on the ground. The anger faded from his face, giving way to sadness and regret. He immediately picked up the ring, his hands trembling, and rushed over to give it back to me. He wanted to be forgiven, to repair his mistakes. But it was too late. I had already made my decision.

Theodore’s POV

I sat alone in my bedroom, my heart heavy and my mind tormented by the violent argument with my girlfriend. The days that followed were hell, a descent into the depths of sadness and distress. I found myself in a terrible state, unable to control my emotions. Tears flowed almost constantly, flooding my face as I remembered the harsh words we had thrown at each other. Every thought of her reminded me of our argument and the pain that came from it. Sleep was my worst enemy. I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to find rest. Images of our quarrel haunted my dreams, waking me up in sweat and leaving me exhausted throughout the day. The food no longer had any taste. My appetite was gone, replaced by a lump of anxiety in my throat that prevented me from eating anything. Every bite felt like cardboard in my mouth, useless and tasteless. I felt lost, like a part of me had been ripped away. I found it difficult to concentrate on my daily tasks, my mind continually being flooded with thoughts of regret and sorrow. My life seemed like a collection of painful memories and empty feelings. Yet, despite all this pain, I knew I was responsible for our argument. I had let anger and frustration take over, instead of communicating constructively. I blamed myself for letting our relationship reach such a breaking point. The days passed slowly, each minute seemed to last forever.

One evening, while I was lying on the floor crying, my friends Draco and Blaise came to find me in my room. Blaise said:"Man, are you still thinking about her? You've got to move on." Draco chimed in:"Yeah mate, moping around isn't helping. You need to get back out there." I sighed."I know guys, it's just...we were together for so long. I miss her." Blaise put his hand on my shoulder."I understand. But sitting here won't change anything. You've got to go talk to her, sort things out." Draco nodded."He's right. You won't know if you have a chance unless you try. The worst she can say is no, and at least then you'll have your answer." I thought about it. They were right,  I had been moping around for long enough. I needed closure, one way or another. "Alright, I'm going to go look for her. Thanks for talking some sense into me guys." 

I finally decided to make a sincere declaration of love to her, in the hope that she would forgive me. I took a deep breath and walked towards where we used to meet, a bench near the lake. When I saw her, my heart soared. She was there, sitting on the bench where we had shared so many happy moments. Her face was full of sadness, but I could still see the love she felt for me. I took a deep breath and approached her. "Y/N," I began with a shaky voice, "I'm so sorry for everything that happened between us. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I sincerely regret every harsh word that I could say. You are the most important person in my life, and I can't imagine my life without you." She looked at me, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “I blame you, you know,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "But I love you so much, and I can't stay mad at you forever." I took a small box out of my pocket, containing the ring I had given him when we first started dating. "Y/N, I want you to know how much you mean to me. This ring symbolizes our love, and I want to give it back to you as a renewed promise. I promise you that I will do everything in my power to be the best boyfriend, to make you happy every day." Tears began to stream down her face as she took the box into her hands. She carefully opened it, revealing the sparkling ring inside. A radiant smile lit up her face, and she held out her hand so I could hand her the ring. “I forgive you,” she said softly, her eyes shining with happiness. "And I promise to give you another chance. I love you, and I want to be with you." I felt an immense relief wash over me as I slipped the ring onto her finger. I took his hand in mine and realized how lucky I was to have him in my life. We kissed, sealing our reconciliation and our renewed love.

[twinklelilstarkey]

Tutor: Long Overdue

Words: 3k+ Type: Some angst, but fluff Summary: The days after the argument. Warnings: Rafe is the softest boyfriend in the world. Y/N has some problems with overthinking and anxiety here. Mentions of alcohol. Mentions of narcissist friends. A filler chapter for you to take a breath in the middle of the angst.

Tutor Masterlist

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

You wish you could say that everything went by smoothly after that conversation. But you would be lying if you said so.

When you got out of that car, your hands were visibly shaking. It was out of your control. It was a mix of all your emotions just building up inside you and wanting to come out all at once. It was the frustration, the anger, the disappointment, and the sadness. You hated every single second of that conversation. How helpless you felt at times. The way your supposed friends looked at you as you spoke. It was as if you had gone insane.

Thankfully, when inside the house, Wheezie had run upstairs for a quick shower before your tutoring class, or else she would’ve seen you cry your eyes out in front of her brother. You felt weak for doing so, but you still did it. You cried the entire time you told Rafe everything about what had happened. You noticed how he had no idea what to say or what to do for you, other than give you comfort. And you let him do it, as that felt like what you needed too.

When Wheezie had come back downstairs with her things - since she wanted to study outside this time - you had already wiped your tears clean and didn’t feel like you would cry at every sentence that left your lips. To your luck, your eyes didn’t appear too puffy when she laid her eyes on you, which spared you from many questions.

By the time you were helping her study, Rafe still kept a close eye on you. He would never disappear from your view for too long, always either sitting on his phone on the porch or coming out to the table near the pool, where the two of you were. He made you and Wheezie laugh from time to time.

It lifted your mood ever so slightly, but deep down you still were filled with worry and hurt. How far could this go? Could the girls go further than this? Maybe by telling other people, or simply talking to their other friends about this. Was there a possibility this could get to your parents before you even had the chance of finishing high school as you had planned?

All these questions, they made worry bubble in your blood at the most random of times during that afternoon. By the end of it, Ward and Rose eventually came home. Rafe was by the island of the kitchen when Rose stepped out of the kitchen to get you your monthly paycheck, and Sarah Cameron stood in that kitchen for a single second, and the first thing she said to you was: “Are you okay? You look… down.”

If that did anything to you was to force yourself to put on a better act. You were just about to go home as Ward had asked for Rafe to drive you. You didn’t want your parents to see you and ask the same things. It would be harder to lie to them than to Sarah.

You two sat in the car in silence for a bit, and you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you. Silence only gave you the excuse to want to cry more, even when you still felt ridiculous for it. You tried to hold it back, but whenever a tear would slip, Rafe was there. He calmed you down and held your hand or sometimes said something that would make your heart hurt less.

At home, you forced yourself to make conversation with your parents - knowing that if you didn’t, they would’ve followed you to your room to find a reason behind your silence. All of it was forced and unnatural small talk, but your parents didn’t seem to notice. Your mom was too focused on making a new recipe for dinner, and your dad was too focused on his reading to look up from the book in his hands.

The rest of the day wasn’t any easier. Rafe asked if you wanted to come over, but you know that it wouldn’t make anything easy. It would simply make your feelings go temporarily numb. You didn’t need that. You needed to just face it for what it is: a stupid confrontation that you saw coming from a mile away because it had to happen eventually. It just came sooner than you expected.

Sleep didn’t come easy either. By the time you finally fell asleep, there weren’t many hours of rest before having to get up for class. You hid whatever hints of your exhaustion with make-up, as well as put on a happier expression just so you could make your way through the house and to school without any questions coming from your parents.

Breakfast was uneventful, just like dinner the day before. And your dad drove you to school just as you had planned beforehand.

In class, if you were used to the girls' looks before, this day had been another level of staring. And given the fact that you share every class with each of them, your sadness and worry quickly turned into anger by lunch hour. They didn’t try to speak to you or even ambush you all at once again. They just sat there at their little tables watching you as if you were some experiment about to go wrong.

Kristy wasn’t in school. She missed every single one of her classes. And all that made you think was how thankful you were for the lack of her staring too.

By the time you were done with classes for the day and inside Rafe’s car, you were still in your depressing bubble but more annoyed than anything else. And that is when a call from Patty came in. There was going to be a party tonight.

You're not ashamed to admit you didn’t even think twice before answering her. You wanted to go to that party. And you did.

Not that you remember much from it now that you lay on Rafe’s bed, silently contemplating your life choices, but you like to think that you had fun.

You remember how you got to the party with Rafe, and quickly found Patty, who made sure to give you as many drinks as you wished to have.

Rafe stepped away to find Topper and Kelce only after he made sure that Patty was going to actually stay by your side the whole night and entertain you enough.

You drank cup after cup of different concoctions made by Patty herself. Some were actually good, others… she just told you to drink it all in one gulp.

You were able to disconnect from reality while sitting in that kitchen with her, drinking and listening to her talk you through the process of making another drink. You two talked for a long time, or at least for enough time until the both of you weren’t exactly speaking in obvious and comprehensible sentences but in slurred words filled with giggles.

And you remember that you went off to find Rafe at some point. You remember that he was very much sober at that time. You remember flashes of sitting on that couch with him and his friends. Patty would eventually join you on the couch and start a conversation that would make a lot more sense than any of the guys' around the table. You also remember that it was way funnier at the time than now.

Also, at one point into the night, you decided that playing, or better, patting Rafe’s buzzed head was the best idea you could ever have. Your drunk mind must have been blown to realize how weird it felt to touch his short hair and feel it prickle your palm. Rafe didn’t seem to mind it too much - even though he must have told you to stop at one point because you remember being dramatically hurt by something he said to you.

Maybe you had exaggerated by deciding to numb your thoughts with alcohol when you know that hanging out with these people would simply do the job. You didn’t need to get that drunk. But you still felt like it was the best time to do it, as well as with the best people.

Hanging out with people like Patty and Topper is nice. They were never your type of crowd, but even when drunk or high, last night, they did listen to you when you talked about what happened. It happened when some of you decided to step outside for some air, while others, like Rafe, decided to stay back. You told them everything, and they listened. And they also offered to help, in any way possible.

That memory alone made your heart squeeze in your chest. Maybe, yes, this is how real friends are supposed to be if they are able to. But it still felt good when they told you that if you ever needed to run away from life’s problems for a bit, they would be there for you, along with Rafe.

And to think that conversations like these resulted only from you choosing to date someone with a bad reputation. 

Since the beginning, you had a feeling that you would need to talk to someone about it - you and Rafe. Simply to let them know before they find out from someone else, and everything turns shitty. And, now, all you can do is acknowledge that you missed your opportunity and everything is indeed shitty. 

Your friends found out before you could even warm the waters with some information or subtle hints first. Maybe you could've told them about all the times Rafe hadn’t been like the awful cookie-cutter shape they all seem to find him fitting in at all times. You could’ve told them about how he is not bad and how he is indeed good. But you missed the opportunity to do so. You let them find out by themselves, and now they think you are in bed with a psychopath only for the thrill of it. Not with your boyfriend, who has never done a bad thing to you and is always putting you first.

Yet, even in the ocean of guilt, you can’t help but feel the anger that has begun to rise by itself. Yes, you had missed your opportunity, but your friends had also failed. They failed to speak to you in a civilized way. Failed to be there for you as they believed you were in a manipulating and abusive relationship. Failed to understand you. And failed at being your friends at the end of the day. They didn’t seem to care about your feelings that day, and they didn’t seem to care about anything but their fury toward you this week. They failed, even if you did so too.

And, as much as you hate it, there is still fear inside you. It has been pushed deep into you, hiding in a corner of your brain, stored away with other worries on top of it so it isn’t noticed by you any time soon. And that fear has a shape and name. Your parents. Because if your friends had their suspicions and found the truth, where does that put your parents?

They are a pair that believes in every word from the neighbors, as well as any word on the streets. If someone were to whisper about Rafe murdering a crocodile in the middle of the street, they would believe it - even when there aren’t any crocodiles near any roads in the OBX. They would believe it, every word of it. Maybe make theories of their own too. Imagine Rafe as this cartoonish supervillain, now wearing the skin of his victims as new shoes. It is ridiculous but absolutely believable to them.

How would they react? What would they do to you? You are of age, but still a student and living under their roof. What would they even think of you?

“Scoot over, you’re taking up the whole damn bed,” Rafe says while standing beside his bed.

You snap out of your horrible thoughts - with your mind still trying to envelop your heart with its dark and painful realities - and throw the pillow closest to you at him, hitting him in the chest. He doesn’t respond. He throws the pillow away and makes you move with a hand on your shoulder and another on your leg, pushing you further into the bed.

The coldness of the sheets under you make your body react in an uncomfortable wave of shivers, and you turn to face Rafe, who is lying on his back beside you now. On the bedside beside him, you can see that it is still early in the morning, meaning you still have a few hours before being dropped off at your house and then at school. And also, everyone in Rafe’s home is still very much asleep.

“Looking at the time won’t make it go by faster,” Rafe says, making you look at him.

“I want it to go slower, not faster.”

Rafe meets your gaze, and he holds it for a bit. A slight bit of a headache hits you right in the temple, and you try not to react by snuggling closer to the pillow under your head. Seems like you were never truly someone blessed with no headaches while hungover, just lucky on that one time.

“What’s wrong?”

“Headache.” You groan into the pillow, closing your eyes to escape his gaze for only a bit.

It takes a few seconds before he talks again.

“What else?” His tone is soft and worrisome. When hearing his question, you don’t move; not even an inch. You just lay there for a bit, listening to your own heartbeat with your ear buried in the pillow. You let some heartbeats go by in your silence, but Rafe waits for you. Never pushes you. He just waits.

“I’m… worried, I think.” You whisper so softly, you almost don’t hear yourself.

“About your friends?”

“That too,” You open your eyes as you talk, “But more about my parents.”

“Why?”

“They’re strict. Very strict,” You explain, even though you know that Rafe already knows that, or else he hadn’t been climbing your window and whispering in your room for months. “They always reacted badly to dating. And they never liked you or your family.”

“Many don’t,” he says with a small curve on his lips.

“It’s different,” you try to explain in as few words as you can, “They’re worse than Kristy or any of the girls would be.”

Rafe simply looks at you, silent. You look at him and let out a breath. 

“I don’t know what they’re going to do when they find out...” You tell him, sincerely. “I just want it all to be after graduation.”

He still doesn’t say anything, so, he simply lets you talk.

“I think that’s what I’m so scared of… The fact that I don’t know what to expect from their reaction.” You sigh, “And that is why I wanted it to be later. So I can- I don’t know, run away before they get to do anything.”

“What’s the worst thing they can do?”

“I’m not sure…” You whisper, your eyes meeting his again. “Kick me out, probably. Never speak to me again,” You try to say it with a positive tone, one that doesn’t seem to consider those options to be true, when, in reality, nothing ever felt more possible than this.

Rafe makes a face that doesn’t seem like he’s convinced.

“I can’t be that bad.” And that earns him a smack.

Rafe’s laughter fills the room, and a small involuntary smile appears on your lips.

“Be serious,” You tell him, turning around to lay on your stomach and prop yourself up on your elbows. You groan with the slight headache pounding on your head, and Rafe’s hand soon lays over your head, trying to soothe the pain away.

“I’m sorry,” He says.

“I’ll think about it,” You say while meeting his eyes. Some sort of humor comes out with your words, and Rafe notices it. He grins and simply looks at you for a moment.

You two stay quiet for a little longer before you start letting more words out, explaining your worries to Rafe while he simply listens. He just lays there and nods, giving you his utmost attention.

And, as expected, you two talk for so long that time does the opposite of what you want it to. It just speeds past you two, and everyone in the house begins to get up and get ready for the day. 

While listening to the doors opening and closing around the house, as well as some screaming about breakfast from one floor to the other, you two lay in Rafe’s bed in silence. Rafe’s hand is on your pillow, fallen from your hair, and now under your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb while you lay there, hugging your pillow with your eyes closed.

Rafe stares at you for a bit. There would be no way of you catching him doing it, with your eyes closed and body ready to go back to sleep. You are laying on his bed, lacking clothes, and with only a soft white duvet over your legs all the way up to your waist. Your back is uncovered, and your hair is a mess, but the scenery is perfect. Rafe’s heart tightens at the memory of the tears you’ve spilled in the last few days. He can’t help but feel guilty over it, even when you remind him that he has nothing to feel guilty about. 

You’ve told him time and time again. Whatever has happened has nothing to do with him. It has to do with control. Control that some of these people want to have over you or have had for so long - even when that control was disguised as love and worry of you ever getting hurt. Truthfully, it would’ve been indeed love if they wished to speak to you calmly and got to know Rafe. But your friends never dared to.

And Rafe knows how much you wish your parents to be different. Even when you teared up while saying it just now, Rafe listened as your tone was thick with hope - the hope of your parents to be on your side when all of it comes out. And still, all he can do is be there for you until all this ends, whenever that will be.

Rafe leans over and pulls you closer to him, which you let him with no hesitation. Your head lays over his shoulder, and your arms go around him. Rafe hugs your body close to him and kisses the top of your head, cherishing the small breath you let out as he does it.

“I love you,” you whisper to him, your breath warm against his skin.

Rafe leans his head in closer to yours and kisses your hair. There is no surprise for either of you to say it. No fear of the love not being reciprocated. No fear of rejection because all of it is obvious, even in the midst of all this mess. Those words were long overdue.

“I love you too,” He whispers, making you lean in closer to his warmth.

- - - - - -

*Giggles in 'shit is about to hit the fan but I am making y'all suffer in anticipation'*

[hearts4hughes]

trouble in paradise | luke hughes

(luke hughes x fem! reader) + (jack hughes x platonic! reader)

a/n: finally finished it!! i feel like i write so much for luke now, but hey i’m not complaining!!

request: hi, could i request an angsty fic with luke dating jack’s best friend? maybe they have an argument and jack is caught inbetween? thank you! <3

you stand before luke, your heart racing and your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. the room feels smaller, suffocating, as the weight of your argument hangs heavily in the air. the person you saw as your rock, your confidant, now stands before you as a source of frustration and disappointment. this is a moment you never thought would come – arguing with luke.

every word you say is laced with frustration, each syllable a knife cutting deeper into the fabric of your relationship. your once shared dreams and laughter seem like distant memories, overshadowed by the mounting tension that has consumed you both. he stares back at you, his eyes a mix of defiance and pain, his own words a response to your accusations.

“it’s like you don’t even care anymore,” your voice is cold, the warmth it usually holds nowhere to be found. “it’s like i’m no one to you, luke!” your voice cracks, showcasing your insecurities.

“i’m the one who doesn’t care?” he huffs out a sarcastic laugh, causing your heart to crack ever so slightly. “you’re the one who spends more time with jack than her own boyfriend!”

your senses are overcome with betrayal. your relationship with jack - your best friend and luke’s brother - was anything but romantic. you were best friends from birth. ellen and your mother always joked you two were ‘attached by the hip’; however, you never thought anything of jack in a romantic way. your friendship was strictly platonic, and you made sure to tell luke that when you began dating.

in this anguished moment, you wonder how it came to this. how the person who once brought you joy and comfort has become a source of turmoil. you question whether love alone is enough to sustain a relationship, or if it takes something more, something you fear may be slipping away.

“jack is my best friend. i’ve known him since i can remember, and you’re going to use that against me? fuck you, luke!” you yell, your feeling of betrayal quickly turns into rage. “you’re just insecure because jack and i have a healthy relationship without even trying, but you and i can’t because you ruin everything! that’s what you do, luke. you ruin everything you can touch.”

the hurtful words flow freely from your lips before you can stop them. silence consumes the room. your mouth hangs agape. you never thought you were capable of saying something like that to luke - your soulmate, the love of your life, your everything.

your words hit him like a sledgehammer. shattering both his heart and his confidence. his once angry features have now fallen into sadness and anxiety. did you really think that about him? did you really think he destroys everything he touches?

he opens his mouth and you expect to be yelled at or even scolded, but he only manages to croak out, “why don’t you go date jack instead, then!”

before you can even process what had been said, he exited the shared bedroom and the apartment, making sure to slam the door. you’re left standing there, the weight of his departure pressing against your chest. tears stream down your face, a mixture of regret and longing. the house feels empty and the reality of his absence crashes down upon you. for a moment, you're overwhelmed by a wave of uncertainty and fear. the weightiness of the dispute bears down heavily on you, leading to doubts that stain your thoughts. have you crossed a line that can't be undone? is this the point of no return? uncertainties whirl in your mind as you struggle with the potential of losing him.

as sobs leave your tired body, you fall to the floor, tucking your knees to your chest and hiding your face in between them. your cries almost drown out the soft knocks against your door. “i don’t want to talk to you, luke. go away.” you say, your voice holding utter exhaustion.

“it’s jack, not luke,” his voice is muffled from being behind the door, “can i come in, please?”

in the midst of the heated argument, you had completely forgotten jack was home, listening to the whole thing. a few months after you and luke started dating, you both talked of moving in with each other - considering you were at jack and luke’s apartment everyday anyway. with open arms, they both invited you to move in with them. jack even redid the guest bedroom for you (even though you claimed luke’s room as yours too).

you rise from your place, wiping away your tears, and open the door to find jack standing there, concern etched across his face. he doesn't say anything. he simply steps forward and envelops you in a tight, understanding embrace. you find comfort in his arms, feeling the weight of your burden begin to lift ever so slightly. you know that you can trust him with your pain, your fears, and your deepest vulnerabilities.

“he’s not coming back is he?” you say in between uncontrolled breaths, “i ruined everything, didn’t i?” you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as he tightens his hold around you.

“he has to come back, y/n. his airpods and phone are still here.” he jokes, trying to cheer you up and break the tension. you pull away from his neck, shooting him a glare that reads ‘not the time’. “ok sorry but he’s definitely coming back. he just needs time to cool down and chill out before he talks to you. and, you didn’t ruin anything. all relationships have their ups and downs.”

“but what if this isn’t just an up or down? what if we break up?” your voice is barely above a murmur. voicing your insecurities is something you don’t do often. you were taught at an early age that it’s best if you keep your doubts to yourself instead of showcases them for everyone to see.

jack rests his head atop of yours, “believe me, you won’t break up. luke loves you too much, y/n/n,” he pauses to take a deep breath, “however, you did say some pretty hurtful things. i’m not defending luke by any means because he was being a total dick, but you should apologize as well.”

you nod softly in agreement.

-

luke came home a few hours later. he went out fully convinced he would get drunk, but he didn’t - he couldn’t do that to you. instead, he ended up driving around, attempting to forget the words that cut through him like a knife.

the bedroom door swung open, revealing a exhausted luke. his eyes met yours, and a mix of relief and sorrow washed over his face. his once happy and confident demeanor now showed signs of sadness, his shoulders slightly slumped, and his gaze filled with remorse. the tension between you hung heavy, suffocating, as the weight of your argument lingered.

the bedside lamp illuminated your tired features and tear stained cheeks. guilt washed over him as he looked at you. hesitantly, he walked over to the bed, sitting besides you. silence continued to fill the room.

unable to bear the silence any longer, you took a hesitant step forward. your voice was barely above a whisper as you said, "luke, i... i didn't mean those things i said. i'm sorry."

his eyes met yours, searching for sincerity. slowly, he closed the distance between you, bringing you into a bone crushing hug. the room seemed to hold its breath as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through your veins.

“do you really think i ruin everything?” his voice cracks as he asks. your heart breaks at his vulnerable state. if only you didn’t say such hurtful things, this wouldn’t be happening. if only you dropped the disagreement instead of turning it into a fight

“of course i don’t, lukey.” you coo, bringing your hand to entangle with his curls. “i was just angry and saying things i didn’t mean. if anything, you do the exact opposite of ruining things.” you pause you take a deep breath, “you can make anything better no matter what. that’s why you’re the perfect boyfriend and i love you so much.”

"i’m sorry too," he finally spoke, his voice filled with remorse and regret. "i shouldn't have said hurtful things either. i love you, and i never wanted to hurt you." the weight of the argument began to lift, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and the promise of healing.

every relationship has it’s own bumps in the road; however, what really matters is how you overcome those bumps with the strength of your love.

[goingbuggy]

Good morrow my shuggy liege!

I was pondering if I should or shouldn’t ask but I hope it will not be too much bother to answer

It’s about one of your metas about the love and sacrifice Beautifully written I must say but reading through it again made me wondering how does buggy fall into the sacrifice themes of one piece?

It pains me to admit that once I’ve read 1082 I had many different feelings and one of them thought of buggy sacrifice as quite selfish in a way? Don’t get me wrong I’m sure came from him believing in shanks and the love he had for the boy! It just it felt in a way like he was burdening shanks with his own dreams

I’m happy he finally got the courage to follow his own path It’s beautiful and inspiring I just wonder if my interpretation is coming from anxiety or is actually true? Thank you and I’m sorry to sending this on anon

Hello, anon! Thank you for your kind words about my metas. Before I answer your question about where Buggy might fit into the wider themes of One Piece -- like sacrifice -- I think I should address your interpretation of 1082's events and compare them with mine.

I can understand why someone might conclude that Buggy's faith in Shanks is a burden of sorts, and ultimately selfish; after all, Shanks never asked for the weight of Buggy's expectations, and you could argue that Buggy's plan was to live out his dreams vicariously through Shanks. However, I think that there are some key points which entirely re-frame the situation.

Buggy didn't actually tell Shanks about what he did.

This isn't explicitly confirmed by the manga, but based on 1082's events and Shanks/Buggy's relationship timeline going forward, I can definitely make a strong case for their miscommunication in this regard.

Although we have Buggy's narration in 1082 to guide us through his flashback and enlighten us with his true feelings about Shanks, remember -- it's an internal monologue. The only thing Shanks knows is what Buggy tells him, and what Buggy tells him is not the full story. Look at this series of panels to see what I mean.

We have a very important contrast here -- Buggy's thoughts ("You're not the next generation's king?! I misjudged you, Shanks!" / "Don't you care about following in Captain Roger's footsteps?!"), versus what he actually says. ("You coward!" / "It's your fault I lost that treasure map!")

In classic Buggy fashion, we see him deflect from the truth; instead of explaining how much he believed in Shanks' potential, he brings up a petty grudge and insults Shanks out of disappointment, hurt, and anger/frustration. Nowhere do we see Buggy explicitly tell Shanks what/why he gave up. And this miscommunication is not only the heart of Buggy's sacrifice, but the exact reason why they split in the first place: Shanks did not tell Buggy what made him change his mind about going to Laughtale, and Buggy did not tell Shanks about his decision/dream.

I think this is key to understanding the way they navigate their interactions later down the line, in Marineford. Remember: Shanks believes that they split due to the whole map ordeal, which is not only a relatively lighthearted grudge to hold, but also very confusing from Shanks' perspective.

I love the curt answer he gives here, because it really reflects Shanks' limited understanding of what actually transpired between them that fateful day at Loguetown. Thus, it's also understandable why Shanks acts the way he does at Marineford. I highly doubt Shanks would be so casual if he knew Buggy's real reasons for parting ways. Hell, their split was so important to Shanks that he still remembers Buggy's gripe about the map 20+ years later -- and even uses the promise of one to draw Buggy back into rehashing things between them. (The anime expands on Shanks' confusion/limited understanding even more, but because we're dealing with the manga only, I'm not going to reference those added scenes.)

This interaction can seem quite confusing, but place it in the wider context I've just proposed, and it makes a lot more sense. Something fundamental has permanently shifted between them, but Shanks does not understand the gravity -- nor the real reason -- behind that change. And yet again, Buggy perpetuates this cycle of miscommunication by not telling him.

So, now that I've argued why I believe Buggy didn't tell Shanks about his true dream/decision to give up on said dream, why is it so important?

Well, this leads to my second point.

2. Buggy is a character primarily motivated by greed.

This statement does not need to be argued; it's as explicit as can be, because it has been well-established by Oda. In fact, it's very likely to be what people remember best about Buggy's character, in the midst of the massive narrative that One Piece has become. (I will touch upon this later, because this is exactly why I view Buggy's sacrifice as so impactful to the reader.)

Now, my last point:

3. Buggy is terrible at hiding his true intentions.

Buggy usually makes it quite obvious what he's hiding through blatant lies which hint to the truth, or even a direct slip of the tongue, like in Impel Down. This is partially for the sake of comedy/divulging necessary information to readers, but it's also a genuine aspect of his character which reinforces the comedy. Buggy's intentions are comically apparent to readers, so it's ridiculous to see his followers fall for his schemes.

These three points, in tandem, are exactly what makes 1082's reveal so impactful. Oda uproots everything we thought we knew about Buggy's character in order to give us the missing puzzle piece -- the reason why he is the way he is. This exact decision.

Buggy is a character motivated by greed, but he gave up on his dream, a pillar of freedom and existence in the One Piece world. He is self-absorbed, and yet he de-centered himself from the narrative. And for who, of all people? Shanks, the very man he claimed to despise in his first introduction. Are you starting to see the groundwork Oda's laying down here?

Buggy is notoriously bad at hiding the truth when he lies, and yet readers are blindsided by this reveal, over a thousand chapters after his first appearance. He kept it a secret, not just from Shanks, but from us. 1082 subverted our expectations and further developed Buggy's character in the process. It's a great display of what I love most about Oda's writing.

Before 1082, it would be difficult to claim where Buggy lies in One Piece's themes of sacrifice or dreams. But post-1082, it's a lot clearer. Oda has shown us that Shanks is just as important to Buggy as Buggy is to Shanks, and he's done it in the most effective way for a greedy character: by showing us that even Buggy is capable of sacrifice, when it's for someone he cares about. And what did he give up? His dream -- one of the most important things people have in One Piece.

Sure, it's possible to dismiss Buggy's decision as selfish, but remember: he didn't tell Shanks. He didn't expect anything in return. In a way, he has actually spared Shanks from feeling burdened; Shanks doesn't know the truth, and so he has no opportunity to feel guilt or responsibility for Buggy's decision. For a character like Shanks, who is defined by responsibility, this is also massively significant. Buggy's choice is not Shanks' fault, and by deflecting to trivial matters like the map, Buggy has -- intentionally or not -- lifted a possible weight from Shanks' shoulders. Shanks still feels the loss of their relationship, but instead of potential guilt, there is confusion and miscommunication.

So, no, I don't view Buggy's sacrifice as selfish. He did what he did because he truly believed in Shanks. He was willing to let Shanks become king and live out his dream, all without burdening Shanks with the truth. It's the antithesis of everything we've known about Buggy up until this point -- a decision without his greed, egomania, and overt schemes at the forefront. And if that's not a selfless act from Buggy, then I don't know what is.

[red-writes]

warnings//possessive ex-boyfriend gojo, pussy inspection. 

The moment you heard the knock on your apartment door, you knew it was him.  You looked through the small peephole in the door and you could see him staring directly back into it and you sighed. Ignoring him would either force the police to be called and your concerned neighbors to peek their heads out and whisper about you so instead you unlocked the door without much fuss. 

He whistled as he entered, “Wow this place still looks as shitty as it did since I left” his eyes roaming around your apartment.

You roll your eyes and slam your door shut, “Why the fuck are you here gojo?” 

He holds his hands up in a defensive manner, “Whoa whoa sugar, what's got you so agitated? On your period?” he says with a smug smirk and you can feel the anger simmering in your gut.

“Why are you in my apartment?” you say again, not giving into the purposeful taunt. 

He shrugs, walking into your kitchen area and opening your fridge. As he rummaged through your stuff you rubbed your temples in frustration. The headache you medicated fifteen minuets ago hadn't planned on going away anytime soon and the man drinking your favorite soda was only making it worse. 

“What? I can’t come see my favorite person” he says slyly.

“No. so can you leave please?” 

He shuts your fridge and the slam makes you jolt. “I’ll cut to the chase, yeah? I saw your instagram story”

“Yeah. and?” you ask and the tall man walks over to you and his eyes are raking up and down your form and you can't help but want to cover up, his eyes are way too piercing.

“Saw that date you went on with that fucking loser” he takes a step closer to you and this time your bodies are pressed against each other. You try and shove him away, pushing at his chest and yet he doesn't budge.

“Gojo I can do what I want we’re not-”

“Satoru” he says, “Call me Satoru baby, you don't want me to get mad, right?” he says as he caresses your chin. 

“S..Satoru..he’s just a friend” 

“Oh yeah?” he says, his hand on your face slithers down your chest, brushing past your chest until his hand cups your cunt. Your chest tightens.

“Not giving my pussy away to anyone else, are you?”

You shake your head and he hums, “Not sure, turn around and bend over” 

You can feel your legs shake as you turn around, your bend over and hold onto to the couch. You spread your legs and he forces down your shorts and panties. 

“cute fuckin’ pussy” he mumbles and he crouches down to eye-level with your cunt and uses one of his thumbs to spread your pussy open, he hums and your heart beats nervously in your chest. 

He hums some more and anxiety fills your gut, he uses fingers to completely spread it open and he delights in in watching your hole twitch and flutter in anticipation. 

“Been fucking some other guy?” 

“No Satoru” you say with a quick shake of your head. 

“Don't lie to me, I can tell this cunt’s been fucked with from a mile away” he says and you swallow as heat burns in your cheeks. 

“No just- I’ve been..I ended up buying a dildo” you say in a huff of embarrassment. 

“Playing with my pussy without my permission? Huh?” he leans in and his nose nudges your clit as he inhales deeply, “’s fine, long as no other man has his cock in my cunt I won’t mind” he pulls away and you feel a pang of disappointment in your chest as nothing more happens, he lifts your panties and your sleeper shorts up your legs and pats your butt. 

“Alright, I'll be off then, yeah?” he unlocks your door and he lets himself out. The throbbing in your cunt doesn't seem to subside and you curse under your breath.

God. you hate gojo satoru.