#i will try to not let the things at work get to me anymore

[boomstab-papa]

Oh absolutely, giving misogynists captive girlfriends/wives isn't going to fix anything. Being a little more misogynist to try to appease misogynists won't work.

But "giving any credence" is such an interesting phrase to use here, because it's so ambiguous and also accusatory. What does "giving credence" mean? Who has been doing it? What have they been advocating for? Who, for example, has been saying leftists should be more misogynist, and how?

I'm not alone in this confusion, either, there are several comments on the tweet who are equally perplexed.

The fact is that the left DOES NEED a better approach to people who are feeling lost, angry, and scared.

Alt-right "self-help" authors and programs are hugely popular. These predators target lost, scared, and angry people. They're cults, really. And no matter how much the left discusses things like "can we stop parroting bioessentialist bullshit because hey, men aren't destined to be misogynistic assholes"... these alt-right cultists don't ever even have to TALK TO a leftist to repeatedly hear "leftists hate you for being born white/male/rich/etc". I really can't get over how Rush Limbaugh popularized the term "feminiazi" and told an entire generation that feminists were angry man-haters when they literally are not. But that's exactly how the grift works!! I should know, I grew up in exactly this Rush Limbaugh kind of house!!

"Don't blame the hyper-wealthy for ruining the economy, blame women and foreigners for taking all the jobs! Don't blame the ruined economy when nobody wants to have kids anymore, blame the women! Don't blame patriarchy and all the misogyny it taught you when women avoid your misogynist ass, blame the women! Remember, the feminazis hate you!!"

So what to do?

On an interpersonal level, sometimes it can be really easy. This is a comment made to Innuendo Studios's video "How to Radicalize A Normie" on this exact topic (which I highly recommend watching).

"Hey, ex-alt-right member here. First, really like this series. I feel like you’re validating the radicalization that me and my male friends experienced. Putting it into words and showing us how we got tricked, exposing the magician and their tricks. Second, I vot out not through argument and discussion but actually through feelings. I was very edgy and would use the n-word in jokes all the time. My male friends would not call me out on it. But a female friend of mine said it made her uncomfortable and that she didn’t appreciate these jokes when we played fortnite together. That shook me to my core as I cared for my friend and that’s how my deradicaliztion started. Just wanted to add in this personal story, keep up the great work :)"

If this is someone you know, tell them their behavior is not cool.

THIS GOES DOUBLE FOR THE MEN READING THIS. Misogynists are more likely to listen to you than they are to listen to women!! If someone is being a shithead in your vicinity, consider: are you gonna let it slide? Or are you maybe, possibly, going to be the one thing that yanks them out of a hatespiral and prompts them to re-examine their hateful worldview? Tell them "hey not cool".

This might not work the first time. This might not work at all for some people. But if the situation is relatively safe, then it's worth trying.

And this does not mean that you personally are responsible for "centering men in your conversations" or "marginalized people putting in even more emotional labor" or "if a man is misogynist it's because you failed him" what the fuck ever like I've seen in this discourse. Come the fuck on.

It means you can probably try saying something to somebody you know. And if it doesn't work? You can say you tried.

On a policy level, we have more work to do. It shouldn't come as a surprise to any leftist that the current economic and political system in the USA exists to separate and exploit people. I think we all agree it really sucks to live in a system like this. Your average reactionary misogynist also thinks the system sucks, but as explained above, they've been trained to place the blame on some convenient scapegoats instead. Immigrants. Women. Queer people. Muslims. Anybody who's not white. Et cetera. "Government needs to get out of the way of smart people and then Elon Musk will build a utopia for The Faithful (which includes me) on Mars" or some shit.

These people need to hear that their anger is justified, but that their blame is misplaced. They need policies that will hold the responsible parties accountable. They need policies that won't leave them impoverished and isolated and exhausted after working a 40+ hour work week. They need to realize the system isn't sorting people into "the worthy rich" and "the unworthy poor", rather, that it's exploiting everyone except the wealth-owning class. They need to realize it's their politicians' biggest campaign donors that are doing this to them.

The Democratic Party needs to actually talk about this. I'll be dangerously pithy here: the Democratic Party needs to sound more like Bernie Fucking Sanders. Politicians need to oppose health insurance companies and get Medicare For All going. Politicians need to stop voting to give the military two fucking billion dollars every single day and fund free college and trade schools. Politicians need to tell business interests to fuck off and get a livable minimum wage AND a universal basic income passed, which will severely undercut employers' ability to exploit and isolate us.

And we need Citizens United repealed. Badly. I'm not trying to imply the problem is only with Republicans' campaign donors, because Democrats' biggest campaign donors are also often the same people exploiting us. But look at how Democrats did a tiny little bit of pro-union and anti-trust work these past 4 years and they screamed bloody fucking murder. If Democrats are relying on these people's money to get them elected, I think it's going to be really hard to get policies passed that will actually make USAmericans safer and happier (ie. address Republicans' economic fears that they keep blaming on various scapegoats).

Although with Republicans controlling the entire Federal government for the next two years minimum, this feels more distant than ever.

That's what we need to be taking seriously. If you don't give any credence to the fears and insecurities underlying the horrifying reactionary politics, you're not actually addressing anything. If you can't admit that capitalism fucks all of us over and makes all of us miserable and looking for a remedy, are you even a leftist?

[archangeldyke-all]

Oh man I have ideas..

Sevika has a home back in Zaun but she has to have an apartment in Piltover because of councilor duties until she fully adjusts to topside and accepts the insistent offers of a manor. Imagine being her wife and just helping her relax after her first day, cuddling and all that whilst adjusting to the fancy apartment bigger than your old house.

Or..

Sevika taking her wife out for a walk in Piltover, admiring more of the garden as the plants grow upon new soil. A talk about the future whilst holding hands.

Or..

Them renewing their vows, having that damn fancy wedding of the dreams.

Toodles!!!

EEEEEEEEK okay lets do some councilor sevika (also isha and jinx are still alive in this story because i said so. she doesn't need to suffer so much to still be an incredible leader. give her her girls!!!)

men and minors dni

you were the first person approached about sevika representing zaun in piltover's new council post-war.

you were a little concerned to find councilwoman shoola and three members of her personal guard on your front stoop-- and for just a moment you had a flash of anxiety that she was here looking for jinx or isha.

"councilwoman. hello." you say, still surprised. you've met the woman a few times before, both of you attending various re-building efforts around the undercity. she holds up a hand.

"please, dear, we've built a bookshelf together, you've seen me at my lowest. you can call me shoola."

"h-how can i help you counc-- shoola?" you ask. she smiles.

"i'm here regarding your wife."

you frown. "...is she in some kind of trouble?" you ask, already mentally planning how to worm sevika out of her trouble. the councilwoman chuckles.

"quite the opposite, actually. i'd like her to join the council... as an ambassador to the free nation of zaun." she says.

you nearly shit yourself at her words-- sevika's life work casually mentioned like it's just a sidenote. "the-- free?" you ask.

she smiles. "while the deaths of the other councilmembers in the war was a horrible loss, there are some issues i could never get my late colleagues to agree on. now, though... i've been given full authority to reorient the power structure of the council to avoid anymore kirraman's taking over-- and i've always been of the belief that zaun should be free."

"and w-what... you want to arrest jinx in exchange for it?" you ask.

shoola chuckles. "no."

"y-you want isha?" you ask. shoola laughs again.

"what could i want with a child? no!"

"so... what do you want?" you ask, your voice shaking as the reality of the situation sinks in.

"i just want your help talking sevika into the job. i know she can be... stubbo--?"

"bullheaded?" you guess as shoola searches for a kind word to describe sevika's stubbornness. she chuckles at your description of your wife and nods.

"here." she hands you a stack of papers. "i've outlined the full responsibilities of the job. as well as the benefits she will receive for serving. please. look it over and talk to her, would you?"

you do.

it's an excellent proposal.

as the undercity figures out how it wants to self govern, piltover will fund zaun's public infrastructure as if it's their own-- meaning that the undercity will, practically overnight, have access to things like clean water. and schools. and welfare. they will provide these services for up to fifteen years as zaun finds it's footing.

the position outlined for sevika in piltover's council is a way to assure piltover doesn't back out of their promises-- that somebody is there to call them out when they try to cut corners in helping the young nation of zaun find it's footing.

and, while your wife might miss the more physical aspects of her old work, you can see her chewing out some stingy old councilors for their greed in your minds eye, and you can't help but smile.

"what're you smilin' about?" sevika asks.

you jump and slam the folder in front of you closed, blinking up at your wife.

she's back from her meeting with ran, scar and jericho. the four of them have grown close in these past few months as they coordinate rebuilding efforts for various neighborhoods across zaun. you have to gulp, trying not to get dizzy with the possibilities of what sevika's job offer means for them as a team. as team zaun.

"h-how was your meeting?" you ask. sevika raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you and you huff. she sinks across the table from you, easily pulling the folder out of your grasp.

"meeting was fine. the elementary school bein' built in firelight's territory is almost ready to open. first school in zaun." she says with a smile. "now, what were you smiling at?"

"i was approached by councilwoman shoola this afternoon."

sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "did you two try to build a chair this time?" she teases. you groan and kick her shin, before tapping the folder in her hands.

"no. i was asked to convince my stubborn-ass, incredibly loyal, strong, beautiful, hard-fucking-headed wife to join the fucking council."

sevika blinks. "what?"

"they want you in the new council. serving as an ambassador. to the free nation of zaun, sevika."

sevika blinks again, and then she rips the file open, her silver eyes flying across the confidential text. "the fr-- the free nation of zaun?" she asks, her eyes flying up to yours to confirm. you grin and nod.

sevika flies out of her seat and crawls across the dining room table to reach you, tears flowing down her cheeks as she kisses you like her life depends on it.

you're there when shoola and sevika finally sit down to discuss the opportunity. shoola's the first piltoverian to not turn her nose up at the messy state of your small home-- she even grins at the sound of jinx and isha bickering from their bedroom. "you two have made a lovely home for yourselves, here." she says, sitting down at the table and jumping a bit when a toy squeaks under her bum. "i can almost see the love leaking out of the wallpaper."

"could be black mold." you whisper. sevika and shoola both sputter surprised laughs.

"sevika. have you considered my proposal?" shoola asks.

sevika sighs and nods. "i have a few conditions before i agree." she says.

this surprises you. as if the prospect of representing a free zaun isn't tempting enough, you saw the salary sevika's being offered. it's the kind of money that could buy you a house big enough that all four of you could have your own bathrooms.

(secretly, though, you hope you live in a tiny house forever. you like tripping over your family-- being within reaching distance at all times.)

"first. i'd like you to assign me the budget to employ three of my trusted confidants as advisors. i can give you their identities if you'd like, but i give you my word that they're good peo--"

"done." shoola cuts sevika off, scribbling a quick note in her journal before looking back up at the pair of you with a smile. "what else?" she asks.

you smile a bit. sevika blinks, then gulps. "jinx and her little friend ekko get a full ride to the university up top. they're incredibly gifted, and with a little proper education they could advance zaun--"

"you don't have to convince me, i remember how the war went. without them, we'd all be dead. i can arrange that."

"i don't want to leave zaun. i can't represent these people if i'm not living here. i'll need a car to get--"

"would you like a personal vehicle or a driver each morning and evening?" shoola asks.

sevika blinks. "a-a driver." she says, a little shocked.

"anything else?" shoola asks.

sevika nods. "o-one last thing." she reaches over to grab your hand. you have no idea what she could possibly want beyond what she's asked for-- she's taken care of her friends, her family, and her transport.

"anything." shoola says. you think the woman might mean it.

sevika looks down at her lap and sighs. "we... we never really got married." she says. you blink, not at all understanding why she's telling the councilwoman this. "i mean... we had a party and we exchanged vows," she says, a smile tugging at her lips. you squeeze her hand and her eyes flick up to yours, before shyly darting away like you guys haven't been married for a decade now. like you guys don't have two kids together. "but we never... nobody gets married in zaun. 's expensive. the trip up to the justice is too far. and..." sevika gulps, her voice getting shaky as she looks back up at you. "and you're the reason i've fought so hard for our home in the first place." she whispers.

tears start to well up in your eyes and you let out a shaky laugh. "what, 're you proposing to me again?" you ask. sevika snorts and shakes her head before turning to shoola. the woman's drying her own tears.

"will you arrange to have us married? officially?"

"i'd be honored." shoola agrees.

the wedding is small and intimate, you and sevika, jinx and isha, vi, ran, scar, jericho, and shoola.

the councilwoman took you to a beautiful little garden a few blocks away from the council, and she married you, officially, as the sun set and your girls threw handfuls of confetti into the sky.

your whole party marches through the streets of piltover and back to zaun for the afterparty, councilwoman shoola laughing happily as you introduce her to the zaunite tradition of barcrawling.

each bar you enter, jericho happily announces that you and sevika have been freshly married. sevika, being the new spokeswoman of zaun, is quite the celebrity now. all of this is to say, you spend the night drinking many free drinks, hugging many drunk strangers, and kissing your wife on request about a thousand times.

it's the best night of your life.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[dissapointu]

You are extremely cool, I am impressed by your works, really, your content is amazing. If you don mind (ignore that if you do) I would love to read about arcane characters who found out that their s/o are self harming. English is not my native language, so sorry if I wrote something wrong. And thank you again for your content, it’s healing me

Thank you so much for your kind words—they mean the world to me, truly. I’m so honored that my writing can bring you even a little bit of comfort. You’re so brave for sharing this request, and I want you to know I’m writing this with as much care and as I can. You’re never alone, and you deserve all the support, love, and healing in the world.

Jinx

Jinx has lived through her own struggles, so when she finds out, it hits her hard.

• At first, she’d be shocked, maybe even a little panicked. “Wait, wait… you’re serious? You’re really feeling this way?”

• But once it sinks in, her protective side takes over. She’d grab your hands, look you in the eyes, and say something like, “You don’t have to hurt yourself, okay? I’m here. Always. You can tell me anything.”

• Jinx might struggle to find the right words, but she’d pour her energy into reminding you how much you mean to her, distracting you with her chaotic ideas or working on projects together to keep your mind busy.

• “You’re stuck with me, got it? No matter what.”

Vi

Vi would feel a gut punch of worry and guilt when she finds out, blaming herself for not noticing sooner.

• She’d approach you carefully, her usual confidence softened by concern. “Hey, I know something’s going on. You can talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

• When you open up, she’d immediately pull you into a hug, holding you tightly like she could shield you from your pain. “I don’t care how bad it gets. You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m with you.”

• Vi would try to help in her practical, straightforward way—whether that’s sitting with you during hard times, helping you find support, or just being a safe space for you to vent.

• “You’re strong. And on the days you don’t feel strong, I’ll be strong enough for both of us.”

Sevika

Sevika might not know how to respond at first, but underneath her tough exterior, she’d be deeply shaken and determined to support you.

• She’d bring it up gently, her voice calm but serious. “I’ve noticed… some things. You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

• Once you told her, she’d listen carefully, nodding as she processes what you’re saying. “Alright. Thanks for telling me. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’ve got you.”

• Sevika would be protective in her own quiet way, always keeping an eye on you without making you feel overwhelmed. She’d remind you of your strength, even when you couldn’t see it yourself.

• “You’re tougher than whatever’s weighing you down. And I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.”

Silco

Silco would approach the situation with a calm intensity, his protective instincts kicking in immediately.

• He’d carefully bring it up when you seemed open to talking, his voice low but steady. “I’ve seen the marks. Let me help you.”

• When you open up, he’d listen without interruption, his expression serious but full of quiet care. “The weight you carry is yours, but you don’t have to carry it alone. You are far more than this pain.”

• Silco would offer practical help, ensuring you have resources or someone to talk to. He’d remind you of your worth with every gesture and word, showing you that he sees you as more than your struggles.

Vander

Vander would be heartbroken when he finds out, but he’d immediately focus on making you feel safe and supported.

• He’d sit you down somewhere quiet, his voice soft but firm. “Hey, I’ve noticed some things that worry me. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, he’d pull you into a warm, protective hug, whispering, “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, no matter what.”

• Vander would be the type to check in regularly, always making sure you feel loved and valued. He’d remind you of all the reasons he admires you, even on days when you struggle to see them yourself.

Ekko

Ekko would be hit hard when he finds out, but he’d channel his feelings into being the best support system he could be.

• He’d approach you gently, finding the right moment to say, “Hey, I noticed some stuff, and I just wanna make sure you’re okay. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

• When you open up, he’d nod, taking it all in with quiet understanding. “Thanks for trusting me. I know it’s not easy.”

• Ekko would find little ways to lift you up—whether it’s spending time with you, leaving you encouraging notes, or reminding you of all the things he loves about you.

• “You’ve got me, okay? We’re in this together.”

Jayce

Jayce would be deeply concerned but determined to be there for you in every way possible.

• He’d sit you down gently and say, “I’ve noticed something… and I just want to make sure you’re alright. Can we talk about it?”

• When you open up, he’d listen carefully, his hands holding yours tightly. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.”

• Jayce would be all about finding solutions, whether that’s helping you access resources, supporting you in your healing, or just being a steady presence in your life.

Viktor

Viktor would be quietly devastated when he finds out, but his empathy would shine through.

• He’d bring it up carefully, his voice soft but full of concern. “I’ve noticed some things, and… I just want to make sure you’re alright. Can you talk to me?”

• When you open up, he’d listen with his full attention, nodding as he processes everything. “Thank you for telling me. I know it’s not easy.”

• Viktor would find thoughtful ways to support you, whether it’s leaving you encouraging words, sharing quiet moments with you, or reminding you that he sees you as more than your pain.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would approach the situation with grace and quiet strength.

• She’d gently sit you down and say, “I’ve noticed some things that worry me. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready, but I’m here.”

• When you open up, she’d take your hand and say softly, “You’re so important to me, and I want to help in any way I can. You’re not alone.”

• Caitlyn would make sure you feel supported without overwhelming you, always reminding you of how much she admires and cares for you.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be deeply empathetic and immediately focused on supporting you in a way that feels meaningful.

• She’d approach you gently but directly, saying, “I’ve noticed something… and I want to help. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d listen carefully, her expression soft but serious. “You are worth every bit of effort and care, and I’ll remind you of that as often as you need.”

• Mel would be the type to help you find resources or create a support system, always making sure you know you’re loved and valued.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would approach the situation with quiet strength and determination.

• She’d bring it up directly but with care, saying, “You’ve been carrying this alone for too long. Let me help.”

• When you open up, she’d nod seriously and say, “You are stronger than this pain, and I’ll stand by you every step of the way.”

• Ambessa would be fiercely protective, always reminding you of your worth and showing you that you’re never alone in this battle.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would be soft and empathetic, immediately focusing on making you feel safe.

• She’d sit with you quietly and say, “I noticed some things, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d hold your hands tightly and say, “Thank you for telling me. I’m here, always.”

• Maddie would be the type to check in with you often, reminding you through little actions and words that you’re loved and never alone.

Lest

Lest would be heartbroken but gentle and supportive when she finds out.

• She’d approach you with quiet care, saying, “I noticed something, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d listen attentively and say softly, “Thank you for trusting me. You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

• Lest would make sure you always felt loved and valued, reminding you that you mean so much to her.

[fioredeciliego]

Hell of a Ride (Wish there was a Car) - Karina x Fem!Reader

Be warned, there is smut 15k words

The jungle was thick with the midday sun, beads of sweat trailing down your neck as you trudged after Jimin. She seemed oddly serene, picking her way through dense vegetation with a kind of breezy confidence that only made you feel more uneasy. Each step away from any familiar landmark left you feeling more lost, yet Jimin seemed entirely unbothered. As she led the way, her hand brushed against a massive fern, sending droplets of morning dew sprinkling through the air.

“Are you really sure this is the right path?” you asked, trying to sound calm but unable to mask the tension in your voice. You’d lost track of how many times you’d already asked, but this time, you hoped she’d finally admit they might be heading in the wrong direction.

Jimin turned and flashed you her signature grin. “Totally sure. It’s just… a scenic route,” she said, her tone a little too carefree.

“A scenic route,” you repeated flatly, your eyes scanning the endless sea of green surrounding you. The air was thick and still, with only the occasional call of a distant bird breaking the silence. “You mean the path where we haven’t seen another soul in hours?”

“Exactly!” She laughed, nudging you with her elbow as if the whole thing was a harmless joke. “You’ll thank me later when we’re out of here with the best story to tell. How many people can say they’ve been ‘lost’ in the jungle? This is the kind of story people want to hear!”

An uncomfortable laugh escaped you, though it was more a reflex than actual amusement. “Lost isn’t exactly the word I’d use. We’re… stranded, Jimin.”

Jimin chuckled, apparently amused by your escalating nerves. “Stranded? That’s such a strong word! We’re just… wandering with a purpose. Besides, we’ve got food, water, even a little signal now and then. We’re fine.”

Frustration bubbled up in your chest, the tension reaching a breaking point. “Jimin, wandering with a purpose only works if you actually have a direction. We’re just walking aimlessly!”

She stopped, finally looking you in the eyes, her smile faltering as she registered the worry in your face. Her voice softened. “Okay, okay. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Worst case, we’ll just retrace our steps.”

“Retrace our steps? Do you even remember the way we came?” you pressed, crossing your arms as you took in the pathless jungle surrounding you both. “I don’t think ‘back’ is even a possibility anymore.”

Jimin hesitated, glancing over her shoulder with a thoughtful expression, and you could tell she was trying to play it off. But it was painfully clear she hadn’t been paying attention to the way they’d come. She shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Well, it’s not like we’re out here without resources. We’ve got plenty of daylight, food, and I’ll get us back to where we started.”

You sighed, exasperation lacing your words. “Jimin, this isn’t a movie. We don’t have some magical compass that’s going to lead us to safety. This is real. And it’s dangerous.”

Jimin’s face softened, and for a second, she almost looked apologetic. She took a tentative step closer, reaching out as if she wanted to comfort you. “Hey, I get it. I do. But… maybe this could be a fun experience. Something we’ll laugh about later?” Her eyes sparkled, an optimistic light that seemed wildly out of place in the suffocating jungle.

“A fun experience?” you asked, unable to hide the mix of irritation and worry. “This isn’t a weekend trip to the beach. We’re in the jungle, miles from any kind of help.”

Jimin looked down at her feet, a sheepish expression crossing her face. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I wasn’t… thinking it through. But look, we’re here now, and I’ll make sure we get back. Worst case, we’ll head in one direction and keep going until we find a trail.”

“Assuming that actually works,” you muttered, scanning the tangled undergrowth with skepticism. The sheer volume of plants and trees was overwhelming, every corner of the jungle looking like an endless mirror of the last.

Jimin reached out, gently brushing a leaf off your shoulder with a smile. “Hey, at least we’ve got a good view, right?” she joked, gesturing to the towering trees and vibrant green around you. “This isn’t just any regular adventure. It’s, like… a private jungle getaway. Just the two of us.”

“A private jungle getaway?” you repeated, the disbelief clear in your voice. “Are you seriously calling this a romantic outing? We’re lost, Jimin.”

She tilted her head, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Come on, just go with it! Imagine it’s like… a spontaneous date, complete with the best ambiance nature has to offer. You and me, lost in paradise… don’t you think it’s kind of nice?”

You let out an exasperated huff, though you couldn’t deny the flicker of warmth her words stirred. “I don’t think you get it. This isn’t some fun little escapade, Jimin. We’re actually stuck, and there’s a good chance we won’t get out of here by nightfall.”

She held up her hands defensively, a guilty smile creeping onto her face. “Okay, fair point. Maybe I’m downplaying things a little. But hey, I’ve been camping before. I’ve got some survival skills,” she said, attempting a confident grin.

“Oh, great. So you know how to toast marshmallows? That’ll really save us,” you replied dryly, though her attempt at humor brought a reluctant smile to your face.

Jimin laughed, a genuine sound that cut through the tension for a moment. She reached out and ruffled your hair affectionately, a teasing smile on her lips. “I know, I know. I’ll be serious. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for any sign of a trail. Just don’t worry too much. I’ve got you.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked away, the worry still a tight knot in your stomach, but her sincerity softened your anger a little. Jimin’s confidence might be misplaced, but it was hard to stay completely mad at her when she looked so earnest. Maybe she didn’t understand the full weight of the situation, but there was no denying she genuinely cared.

“Fine,” you said, giving in with a reluctant smile. “But no more detours, okay? We’re sticking to whatever you think is the straightest path out of here.”

She gave a little salute, her expression brightening. “Yes, ma’am. No more detours.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide a small smile as you followed her through the undergrowth, her confident strides taking her forward with a purpose you weren’t sure she actually had. Her energy was reassuring, even if misplaced.

--

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the jungle, transforming the trees into towering green pillars and the undergrowth into a vibrant tapestry. You and Jimin finally emerged into a small clearing, a brief break in the dense foliage that gave you both a moment to breathe. Though neither of you would admit it, you were both hoping it meant you were finally headed in the right direction.

Jimin, of course, was still trying to appear as confident as ever, even though you’d caught her glancing over her shoulder more than a few times as if she were second-guessing herself. She wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead, hands on her hips as she surveyed the area. “Alright,” she declared, as if she’d just led you on a great expedition, “I think we’re back on track.”

You raised an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. “You think we’re back on track?”

“Hey, I’m pretty sure,” Jimin replied, shrugging. She flashed you a lopsided grin, her confidence radiating even though it seemed clear she was mostly guessing. “Besides, you don’t see anyone else here with a map, right?”

“Yeah, because we don’t have a map,” you pointed out, unable to keep a small laugh from slipping out. Jimin’s misplaced confidence was somehow endearing, even though you still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

Ignoring your tone, Jimin gestured forward with a flourish, as if presenting a path only she could see. “Look, I know it seems like we’re lost, but trust me. We’re not,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

You glanced around the clearing, squinting into the dense underbrush, trying to find any indication of where you’d come from. “Okay, well, if you’re so sure, let’s try heading back the way we came, alright?”

Jimin shrugged nonchalantly. “Easy! Just follow me.”

But as she took a confident step forward, her boot caught on an exposed root hidden beneath a layer of leaves. With a startled yelp, Jimin stumbled forward, reaching out instinctively for balance. Unfortunately, you happened to be right in her path, and before you could even react, she grabbed onto your arm, pulling you down with her.

You both hit the ground with a soft thud, leaves crunching beneath you. Jimin landed partially on top of you, her weight pinning you down for a moment. A shocked silence hung between you both as you registered the tangle of limbs, your faces just inches apart. She blinked, eyes wide with embarrassment, her cheeks flushing as she quickly scrambled off of you.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry!” she sputtered, cheeks flushed as she tried to brush the dirt off herself. “Are you okay?”

You groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you brushed a few stray leaves from your hair. “I think I’m fine. But maybe let’s leave the dramatic falls to the action movies, yeah?”

Jimin let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “Guess I got a little overzealous there. Sorry for, you know, tackling you.”

Despite the dirt and the sting of impact, you found yourself laughing, the sound surprising both of you. Jimin looked at you, wide-eyed and slightly taken aback.

“Wait, are you… laughing at me?” she asked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

You shook your head, but the laughter only bubbled up more. “No, no, I’m just laughing at… the situation. Here we are, ‘retracing our steps,’ only to end up face-first in the dirt. It’s… fitting, somehow.”

Jimin’s lips curled into a reluctant smile, and soon she was laughing too, her soft giggles filling the clearing. “Alright, alright. So maybe I’m not the best at leading us through the jungle. But look, I’m keeping things interesting, aren’t I?”

“Interesting is one way to put it,” you replied, still smiling as you pushed yourself up and brushed the dirt from your clothes. “I mean, there’s never a dull moment with you around.”

She grinned, giving you a mock salute. “Glad to be of service. Now, let’s try this again… maybe without the acrobatics this time.”

Standing side by side in the clearing, you both took a moment to reassess your situation. Jimin straightened her shoulders, attempting to take on a serious, determined expression as she glanced around, as if searching for any sign of the way forward.

“So,” she began, looking around with a touch of genuine uncertainty, “since we’re clearly both experts in navigation, why don’t we try to divide up what we’re carrying? If we’re going to find our way back, we should at least make sure we’re both prepared for anything.”

You nodded, grateful for the small bit of planning. “Good idea. Let’s take stock of what we’ve got.” Together, you emptied out the few supplies you had between the two of you: a half-full water bottle, a granola bar, a small flashlight with a barely-charged battery, and a few other random items neither of you had expected to need in the middle of a jungle.

Jimin eyed the meager supplies, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “So, you carry the flashlight and water, and I’ll hold onto the snacks. That way, if we get tired, I can give you a pep talk with food,” she joked, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

You rolled your eyes but handed her the granola bar, trying not to let your growing worry show too much. “Just don’t eat it all yourself. We might need it if we’re still out here for a while.”

Her smile softened as she looked over at you, her expression unexpectedly gentle. “Hey, don’t worry too much. I promise I’ll get us out of here, okay? I might be a little clumsy, but I don’t give up easily.”

Something in her tone reassured you, a quiet conviction that made you feel a bit more grounded. You gave her a nod, tucking the flashlight into your bag. “Alright. Then lead the way, oh fearless one. Just… watch out for those roots this time.”

She chuckled, giving you a playful nudge as she started forward again, her gaze more focused as she scanned the ground in front of her. And as you followed her deeper into the jungle, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she would find a way to lead you both out of there—without too many more bruises along the way.

--

The sky shifted from bright blue to soft hues of pink and orange, signaling the day’s end as you and Jimin continued trudging through the dense jungle. Despite her determination, both of you knew that walking aimlessly in the dark wouldn’t get you anywhere. Finally, you spotted a small, open area nestled between a few large trees.

“I think we should stop here,” you suggested, setting down your bag and glancing up at the streaks of fading sunlight poking through the canopy. “It’s going to be pitch-black soon, and we’ll just end up tripping over ourselves in the dark.”

Jimin glanced around, hands on her hips, then nodded. “Good call. I mean, it’s only one night, right?” She shot you a quick, slightly nervous grin as she looked around, already beginning to gather sticks and leaves in a valiant attempt to make a shelter.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her struggle with the basics of shelter-building, her clumsiness getting in the way. She tried stacking some larger sticks against a low-hanging tree branch, but they slid down almost immediately, leaving her standing in a defeated, tangled mess of branches and vines.

“Need a hand?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Jimin’s face turned slightly red, though she managed a lopsided grin. “What, you don’t think I know how to set up camp?”

You chuckled softly, reaching out to steady one of the sticks she was holding. “I’m just saying, if we leave it up to you, we might end up sleeping under a pile of leaves.”

Jimin laughed, scratching the back of her head as she stepped back, letting you take the lead. “Fine, fine. I’ll let the expert take over… for now.”

You started rearranging the sticks, weaving them together to make a sturdier frame. As you worked, you couldn’t help but feel her eyes on you, watching intently, as if she were genuinely impressed by your makeshift construction skills. When you looked up, you found her staring at you with a small smile, her expression softer than usual. Your cheeks warmed, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the structure.

Jimin cleared her throat, taking a step closer as she bent down to help. “So… any camping trips in your past that I should know about?”

You shrugged, placing a handful of palm leaves on the frame to create a sort of roof. “My family used to go camping a lot when I was younger. I guess I picked up a few things along the way.”

“Ah, see, you’re full of surprises,” she said with a grin, carefully placing leaves beside yours. Her fingers brushed yours for a split second as she worked, sending a strange but pleasant jolt through you.

The sun dipped lower, and you continued working side by side, occasionally bumping elbows or reaching for the same spot, only to pull back with shy smiles. Eventually, you’d pieced together a small but sturdy shelter, just big enough to fit you both and keep the wind out.

Jimin stepped back to admire your work, her eyes shining with genuine pride. “Not bad! I guess we make a pretty good team.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you looked at her, noting the way her face lit up despite the dimming light around you. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

She settled down inside the shelter, patting the spot next to her with a playful grin. “Come on, don’t be shy! Your construction, your prime seat.”

Rolling your eyes, you crawled in beside her, grateful for the shelter you’d built together. With the last bit of daylight slipping away, an unfamiliar yet comfortable quiet fell over the two of you. The jungle sounds became more pronounced as night fell—crickets chirped, and the occasional rustle of leaves hinted at the hidden creatures nearby. You hugged your knees to your chest, glancing over at Jimin, who sat with her legs stretched out, leaning against the shelter frame with a relaxed smile on her face.

For a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the world, the isolation of the jungle bringing a rare kind of intimacy. You turned to her, breaking the silence. “Do you think anyone’s noticed we’re gone?”

Jimin shrugged, glancing up at the now star-speckled sky. “Probably… though I doubt they’re panicking yet. They’ll figure out we’re missing by morning, I bet.”

“Guess that means we’re stuck here for the night, then,” you murmured, a touch of worry in your voice.

Jimin must have sensed your unease because she gave you a reassuring smile, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s kind of like an adventure, right? Just think of it as… our own little jungle getaway.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Right. The ideal vacation spot: stranded in the jungle with no food or water.”

She laughed softly, nudging you. “Well, maybe not ideal, but… hey, at least we’ve got each other.” Her eyes met yours, the soft light in them making your breath hitch for a moment.

You managed a small smile, leaning back against the frame of the shelter. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

A comfortable silence settled over you once more, broken only by the symphony of nighttime sounds. You felt Jimin’s shoulder brush against yours as she shifted slightly, leaning in closer as if to share warmth in the cool night air. Her presence, though often clumsy and exasperating, was undeniably comforting in this strange, lonely place.

After a while, she spoke up, her voice softer than usual. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever spent a night like this before. It’s… kind of nice.”

You glanced over at her, surprised by the sincerity in her tone. “Yeah? Even though we’re, you know, lost?”

She laughed quietly. “Yeah. Maybe it’s the whole survival thing, but I feel… I don’t know, alive. Like, really alive.”

You found yourself smiling at her words, understanding what she meant. There was something oddly exhilarating about the danger, the rawness of the situation you were in. And though you wouldn’t admit it, you were grateful for her company.

As you both settled into silence once more, your eyelids grew heavy, the sounds of the jungle lulling you into a surprisingly peaceful state. Just as you were on the edge of sleep, you heard Jimin mumble softly, almost to herself, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep us safe.”

--

The night air in the jungle quickly grew colder as the sky darkened, the warmth of the day fading into the cool embrace of the evening. You huddled closer to the shelter, pulling your jacket tighter around you, but the chill still seeped into your bones. You could feel the air turning brisker, the jungle’s nocturnal hum growing louder in contrast to the stillness that had settled between you and Jimin.

Jimin shifted next to you, clearly uncomfortable, her shoulders hunched as she wrapped her arms around herself. She glanced over at you, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as she attempted to break the tension.

“So, uh, is this… how you imagined our first night alone together?” she asked, her tone playful but laced with a nervous undertone. She gave a slight shrug as she shuffled closer, her eyes catching the moonlight, making her look almost ethereal. “I mean, I gotta say, this isn’t quite the cozy, romantic campfire I was picturing, but… maybe I’m just doing it wrong.”

You shot her a look, suppressing a grin at her antics. "Definitely not the romantic getaway I had in mind," you said dryly, though the teasing tone in your voice didn’t quite mask the warmth you were beginning to feel. It wasn’t just from the campfire; it was from being in such close quarters with her.

Jimin shifted again, now sitting much closer to you, though you hadn’t moved at all. She glanced over at you, her eyes softening for a moment before she broke the silence with another joke. “You cold?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because if you’re cold, I mean, you could always snuggle up to me. I’m pretty good at staying warm… you know, since I’m basically a walking heater.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her flirtatious remark, but something inside you stirred at her words. It was so casual, so effortless, yet you could feel the shift in the air around you. The closeness, the playful teasing—it made your heart race in a way you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, though the words felt hollow as the chill gnawed at you once more. You pulled your legs up to your chest, trying to stay warm, but you couldn’t deny the sudden longing for her proximity, for her warmth.

Jimin noticed the small shiver that ran through you, and her teasing smile softened. “You sure? I can’t let my teammate freeze, you know. You’re kind of important.” She gently nudged your shoulder with hers, a little more sincerely now.

You let out a quiet, half-laugh. “I’m not going to freeze. I’ve been through worse.”

Jimin’s smile remained, but there was an underlying concern in her eyes. “Still, it’s not just about surviving, it’s about being comfortable, too.” Her voice dropped slightly, and you could hear the sincerity in it, which made your heart flutter a little.

She hesitated for a moment before sliding closer, her body warmth becoming more apparent as she sat beside you, a little closer than before. She tugged her jacket tighter around herself, but it was clear it wasn’t enough to keep her warm either. Her eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something unspoken in them.

“Come on, don’t make me beg for it,” she teased, her voice light again as she nudged you more insistently. “I’m just offering my body heat, not a lifetime commitment. Though, if you’re into that…” She waggled her eyebrows dramatically, and you couldn’t help but snort at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

“Jimin, you’re impossible,” you muttered, though you didn’t push her away. Instead, you found yourself unconsciously leaning into her, the warmth she offered starting to feel too tempting to resist.

“See? I knew you were secretly into it,” she teased softly, though her voice was warmer now, less cocky. She wrapped her arm around you, pulling you close in a comfortable embrace, the kind of closeness that felt both natural and slightly awkward at the same time.

You froze at first, a little startled by how easy it felt to just… fall into her. But then the warmth from her body enveloped you, and you sighed in relief, your tense shoulders loosening. The cold from before seemed to melt away, replaced by the undeniable warmth of her embrace.

Jimin leaned her head lightly against yours, her breath warm against your ear. “See? This isn’t so bad, right?”

You couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips, even as you tried to act nonchalant about the entire thing. “I guess not,” you muttered. You didn’t want to admit how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to her, especially with everything that had happened earlier. You weren’t sure why the touch of her skin against yours sent a flutter through your chest, but you weren’t ready to acknowledge it just yet.

There was another beat of silence between you two as you both just sat there, the only sound coming from the distant jungle creatures and your shared breaths. You felt Jimin’s hand slip just a little lower down your back, her fingers brushing against your waist, and your heart skipped.

She pulled away slightly, her voice soft but playful, a teasing edge still lingering. “Are you comfortable now? Or do I need to get even closer?” Her grin was mischievous, but you could tell she was still testing the waters, gauging how much you were willing to let her in.

Your face warmed at the suggestiveness in her voice, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you found yourself leaning in closer, your head resting against her shoulder. “This is fine,” you said softly, though you could feel your heartbeat quicken.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, trying to break the tension, even though part of you didn’t want to. “You really like to joke around, don’t you?”

Jimin grinned, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Hey, I have to make the best out of our romantic jungle getaway, right? Just trying to keep the mood light.” She tilted her head, her voice taking on a more sincere note. “But seriously, I’ll keep you warm. I don’t mind.”

Something in her words—soft, but unspoken—made your heart race. You looked up at her then, her expression unreadable for a second before she nudged you with her shoulder, her grin returning. You couldn’t help but smile back, your feelings all tangled up in this strange, overwhelming mixture of warmth, laughter, and unexpected connection.

--

As the first rays of sunlight broke through the thick canopy above, you stirred awake, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. The morning was calm, with the soft hum of the jungle waking up around you. Jimin was already up, fiddling with the last of your shared provisions to make some semblance of breakfast. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, her hands fumbling slightly as she tried to tear open a package of granola bars.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” she greeted with a smirk as you sat up, blinking in the dawn light. “Just in time to join me for this… Michelin-star breakfast I’ve whipped up.” She raised an eyebrow, brandishing a half-crushed granola bar with mock grandeur.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Ah, yes. The classic ‘lost in the jungle with no real food’ breakfast. How gourmet of you.”

She grinned, delighted to have coaxed a laugh out of you. “Hey, I’ll have you know that in some cultures, this counts as a romantic adventure date,” she quipped, her voice light but with a mischievous edge.

You froze mid-reach for a water bottle, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry—adventure date?” You couldn’t help but scoff, though the corners of your mouth threatened to lift. “Are you seriously calling this a date?”

Jimin shrugged, her eyes sparkling as she looked at you. “Well, I mean, think about it: secluded location, scenic views, lots of quality alone time…” She raised her hands, gesturing at the sprawling jungle around you. “Besides, you don’t seem to be hating it as much as you let on.” She shot you a grin, clearly enjoying every second of teasing you.

You bit back a smile, trying to look as exasperated as possible. “Jimin, I think I’d prefer a less ‘lost and starving in the wilderness’ kind of date,” you said, though your tone was soft.

Jimin leaned in, nudging you with her shoulder. “Aw, come on. Think of the memories we’re making! Just imagine the stories we’ll have to tell… if we make it out, of course,” she added with a laugh.

You gave her a sidelong glance, but her enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself smiling despite yourself. “Fine, but next time I get to choose the date spot. Preferably somewhere with less… potential for starving,” you replied, only half-joking.

Jimin put her hand to her chest in mock offense. “Noted! Though, I don’t know, you’ve been a pretty good sport about it all. You’re even smiling at my jokes now.” She leaned in a little closer, her tone dropping as she added, “See? I knew you’d come around to liking me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the warmth that crept up your cheeks. “I wouldn’t get too cocky just yet,” you muttered, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

She looked at you, something playful but genuine in her gaze. “Admit it—you’re having a little bit of fun,” she teased, tilting her head to try and catch your eye. “I know you can’t resist my charms forever.”

You shook your head, trying to hold back your grin. “Jimin, I’m just doing my best to survive out here with you. Let’s not read too much into it.”

But as you both started packing up to continue your trek, Jimin kept up her playful banter, her flirtation escalating in small, unexpected ways. Every so often, as you made your way through the thick jungle underbrush, she’d lean over, whispering dramatic “observations” about your surroundings as though narrating a romantic survival film.

“Oh, look over there,” she whispered in a hushed, faux-dramatic tone as she pointed to a patch of sunlight filtering through the leaves. “Nature has provided us with mood lighting for our romantic hike. It’s practically begging us to lean into the ‘lost lovers’ vibe.”

You gave her a disbelieving look, stifling a laugh. “You really know how to spin a narrative, don’t you?”

She flashed you a grin, proud of herself. “Hey, one of us has to lighten the mood. And, by the way, you’re welcome.” She glanced over, her eyes warm and inviting, and you couldn’t help but feel your defenses soften around her.

The path became a little trickier, with tangled roots and slick patches of mud, and Jimin offered you her hand to steady yourself more times than you’d care to admit. Each time, her hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary, and each time, you felt your resolve weaken just a little bit more.

“Jimin, I can handle myself, you know,” you protested lightly the fifth or sixth time she reached out to you, though you took her hand anyway. Her grip was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the damp chill that surrounded you.

“Sure, sure,” she said breezily, giving you a wink. “But where’s the fun in that? Besides,” she added, her voice dropping a little, “I like helping you. It’s nice to feel… needed.”

Her words caught you off guard, and you glanced over at her, but her expression was soft and sincere. For a moment, the playful mask had dropped, and you saw something else there—something that made your heart skip.

“Well,” you said softly, unsure of how to respond but unable to look away, “thanks, I guess.”

She shrugged, her smile returning as she released your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze. “Anytime. It’s what co-workers… and adventure dates… are for.”

You gave her an exasperated look, but this time, you didn’t bother hiding your smile. “I’m sure this is the most unconventional adventure date of all time.”

Jimin just laughed, her voice ringing out through the quiet jungle, her happiness infectious. As you both continued onward, her flirtations and teasing became a little bolder, a little more natural, as if she were testing the waters between you with each lighthearted quip.

--

The two of you had been walking for what felt like hours, cutting through thick vines and maneuvering over gnarled roots, Jimin’s lighthearted banter punctuating the stillness of the jungle. Despite the challenging terrain, the growing camaraderie between you made the journey less daunting, even fun. But then, as you stepped around a massive tree trunk, everything changed in an instant.

Jimin froze beside you, her arm instinctively reaching out to block your path. You followed her gaze, feeling your heart drop as you spotted a snake in the clearing ahead, coiled and motionless at first. Its thick, scaled body gleamed in the filtered sunlight, but its head was raised, alert—and pointed directly at you.

“Don’t move,” Jimin whispered, her voice low and tense, as if any sound could set it off.

“Jimin…” you breathed, feeling a chill run down your spine. The snake’s body tensed, its gaze fixed on both of you, and you instinctively took a small step back. The movement seemed to trigger it. In a flash, it uncoiled, darting forward with terrifying speed.

“Y/N, stay back!” Jimin yelled, reacting on instinct. Without a second thought, she grabbed you and spun you behind her, shielding you with her own body as she faced the snake, her stance defensive.

The snake reared up, striking out, and Jimin quickly grabbed a nearby branch to hold it back. You watched, wide-eyed and breathless, as she waved the branch, creating enough space to maneuver backward with you. Her gaze stayed fixed on the snake as it hissed and snapped, still pressing toward you both, its anger evident.

“Just… keep moving, slow and steady,” she whispered, her voice tight as she pushed you back. “We don’t want to make it angrier.”

You obeyed, retreating step by step, but your heart raced wildly. Despite the danger, the way Jimin stayed protectively between you and the snake left you speechless, your nerves twisting into a strange blend of fear and… something else. Her hand never left your arm, holding you close even as she guided you both away.

Just as you thought you were out of reach, Jimin stumbled over a stray root, her grip on the branch slipping. The snake lunged forward, its body a flash of movement, and you instinctively grabbed her, steadying her before it could strike. Heart pounding, she managed to pull you both further back, the distance finally enough to make the snake give up its chase. It hissed once more before slithering off into the underbrush.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands still clutching Jimin’s arm as your eyes met hers. For a few seconds, neither of you said a word, the intensity of the moment leaving you both frozen in place.

“Are… are you okay?” she asked softly, her own breathing heavy as she took you in, concern etched on her face.

“Am I okay?” you replied, a shaky laugh escaping as you felt a strange warmth flood your cheeks. “You’re the one who just took on a snake!”

Jimin chuckled, her shoulders relaxing as she slowly lowered the branch and dropped it to the ground. “Guess I just couldn’t let anything happen to my favorite jungle explorer,” she quipped, her tone trying to lighten the mood, though her gaze stayed focused, her eyes scanning your face as if to make sure you were truly unharmed.

You exhaled, still holding onto her arm as the reality of what had just happened settled in. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know,” she interrupted gently, squeezing your hand. “But I wanted to. Besides,” she added, trying to play it cool, “I couldn’t let you go running off without me, right?”

Her words sparked something inside you, and the reality of her protectiveness, her quick instinct to shield you, left you speechless. “Jimin…” you whispered, not quite sure how to express what you were feeling. Your gratitude, your surprise, the slight flutter in your chest—it was all tangled up.

Jimin’s expression softened as she took a small step closer, her hand lifting to brush a stray leaf from your shoulder. “You look really flustered,” she said with a teasing smirk, trying to ease the tension with humor, but her voice held an unmistakable warmth. “Was it the snake, or was it me?”

You scoffed, a nervous laugh slipping out. “Just... I wasn’t expecting my trip partner to go full survival mode on me,” you muttered, your gaze dropping to the ground as you tried to process the overwhelming moment.

She tilted her head, a soft chuckle escaping. “Guess I surprised you, huh?” she whispered, her fingers tracing an absentminded pattern along your arm, her touch grounding you.

“You did,” you admitted, finally looking up to meet her gaze. “Thank you, though. Seriously.”

Her gaze softened further, her thumb brushing over your knuckles, and for a moment, it was as if the two of you were in your own little world, the jungle fading into the background. “Anytime,” she murmured, giving you a playful smile. “Now, come on. Let’s try not to make any more angry friends out here, yeah?”

And with that, she took your hand in hers, leading you onward, her grip steady and reassuring as you walked deeper into the jungle.

--

You and Jimin finally find a small stream after hours of trudging through dense foliage. The soft trickle of water over rocks is a relief, and you both settle down on a smooth boulder near the bank, grateful for the brief reprieve.

You take off your shoes and dip your feet into the cool water, sighing as the chill soothes the soreness from walking. Jimin follows suit, gingerly lowering her feet beside yours. The two of you sit in companionable silence for a moment, just listening to the sounds of the forest and the gentle stream.

“Honestly… I didn’t expect the jungle to be this intense,” Jimin says with a small laugh, breaking the quiet. “Or for us to end up lost like this.”

You smile, the tension of the day beginning to ease. “Maybe next time, we leave the navigating to someone who doesn’t have a talent for getting us into trouble.”

She grins, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Fair point. Though, I don’t know, it makes things interesting, don’t you think?”

“Interesting, maybe,” you reply, glancing at her with a small smile. “But it’s not exactly the ideal place to get lost.”

Jimin chuckles softly, but there’s a momentary flicker in her gaze as she looks away, her fingers lightly trailing over the water’s surface. The joking air between you both fades a little, and she seems to fall quiet, a pensive look crossing her face. She dips her head, absently tracing small circles in the water.

You give her a sidelong glance, sensing something she isn’t saying. “Hey, you okay?”

She hesitates, then smiles, but it’s a quieter smile than usual, lacking its usual spark. “I’m fine, yeah. Just thinking, I guess. You know… I joke around a lot, but it’s probably annoying sometimes, huh?”

The comment catches you off guard. You shake your head. “No, it’s not annoying. You’ve actually been keeping things… less terrible. Besides, that’s just who you are, right?”

“I guess.” She pauses, her fingers trailing over the rock beside her. “It’s funny, though. It’s like… if I didn’t make people laugh, they wouldn’t even notice I was there. And sometimes… I wonder if that’s all people see.”

Her voice drops, a vulnerability in her words that you’d never heard before. She’s looking down, her fingers absently playing with the edge of her shirt, and for once, the usual spark in her eyes has dimmed.

You hesitate, wanting to say the right thing. “Jimin, I know you’re funny and lighthearted, but I think that’s only one part of you. You’re… a lot more than that.”

She looks up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “You really think so?”

“Yeah. You can be… thoughtful, too,” you say, glancing at her with a small smile. “You’re protective, like with that snake earlier. And you’re just… real. You’re not just hiding behind some persona.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and she smiles, a shy, almost relieved look crossing her face. “I guess I’ve just never thought of it like that,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping again.

There’s a quiet moment between you as she lets those words linger in the air. Something in your chest aches for her, for this hidden vulnerability she usually covers up so well. You reach over, your hand brushing hers, a comforting squeeze to let her know she’s not alone.

“I… care about both sides of you, Jimin. The funny, playful side, and the thoughtful side, too,” you say softly. “You don’t have to hide anything.”

Jimin turns to you, her expression unreadable for a moment, but then her eyes soften, a teasing glint appearing once again. “So, you do care about me after all, huh?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but a smile sneaks onto your face as you do. “Well, maybe a little bit,” you admit, your tone light, though there’s a warmth in your words that’s unmistakable.

Jimin grins, her confidence returning in that familiar, infectious way. “I knew it. Knew you’d come around eventually.”

You shake your head, amused but undeniably touched by the way she’s trusting you enough to let her guard down. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

She laughs, the sound echoing over the stream, but there’s a softness in her gaze as she looks at you, a gratitude that needs no words.

--

The steady flow of the stream had guided you both along as the day stretched on, the warm sun hanging in the sky. After hours of trekking through the dense jungle, you and Jimin stumbled upon a small, secluded cave hidden behind a waterfall. The perfect spot to rest for a while.

Jimin, ever the optimist, was quick to suggest a little fun, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "What do you say we jump into the waterfall, clothes and all?" she asked, grinning at you. You raised an eyebrow, skeptical at first, but the heat of the jungle and the lure of the cool water soon won you over.

You both stripped off your outer layers and leapt into the waterfall, laughing as the cold water hit your skin, splashing around in the flow of the rushing water. It was a strange freedom, something raw and invigorating, and for a few moments, you forgot about being lost in the jungle. But all too soon, the playful atmosphere shifted when you noticed the darkening sky.

"Uh-oh," Jimin said, squinting upwards. "That doesn't look good."

The rain began as a light drizzle, but it quickly turned into a downpour. Cold water, mixed with the chill of the air, hit your skin like little needles, and you both scrambled out of the waterfall, soaked to the bone. You rushed to the cave you’d spotted earlier, dripping wet as you sought refuge from the increasingly heavy rain.

Inside the cave, Jimin let out a loud, exaggerated groan as she shook her hair, spraying droplets everywhere. “Well, this is fun. I don’t think we planned for a jungle rainstorm.”

You glanced back at her, your teeth chattering. The temperature had dropped significantly, and it was clear you both needed to find a way to warm up. You quickly scanned the cave. “At least we’re out of the rain now,” you said. “Let’s get a fire going.”

Jimin nodded eagerly, and while you went about gathering some leaves and kindling for a makeshift bed and warmth, she started fiddling with a pile of sticks, trying to get a fire started. You both worked together in silence, each of you grateful for the brief respite. The rain continued to pound against the cave’s entrance, but you were safe for the moment.

As Jimin finally managed to start a fire, the warmth from the crackling flames began to feel like a blessing against the chill of the rain. You huddled near the fire, your clothes drenched and your body still shivering.

Jimin, clearly cold but still determined to keep up her playful attitude, shot you a mischievous grin. "So, what now? Should we just sit here and freeze, or...?"

You gave her a dry look. "I don’t know, Jimin. What do you suggest?"

Her grin widened, and she quickly looked around the cave. "Well, you mentioned getting warm earlier, right?" She raised an eyebrow at you, a glint of humor in her eyes. "How about we take off these wet clothes, let them dry by the fire, and maybe... cuddle to keep each other warm?"

Your breath hitched at her words, a mixture of surprise and something else fluttering in your chest. She was joking, right?

But Jimin, ever confident, started tugging at the hem of her shirt as if it was the most casual thing in the world. You blinked, flustered, unsure of what to do. "Wait—what are you doing?" you asked, voice coming out a little higher than you intended.

Jimin paused and glanced at you, confusion crossing her features. "What? You said we should get warm." She shrugged, unfazed, and continued to pull her wet shirt over her head. "Might as well make it efficient, right?"

Your eyes widened. "But... I—" You quickly averted your gaze, suddenly embarrassed. You hadn't expected her to take your suggestion so seriously. Still, as you glanced back, you couldn't help but notice how her well-defined back muscles flexed as she stripped off her shirt, leaving her in just her soaked pants.

Your heart was racing. You felt your cheeks flush as you awkwardly looked around the cave, trying to avoid looking directly at her. "Are you—uh—sure about this?" you asked, unsure of what was happening.

Jimin, now only in her underwear, was looking at you with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Come on, you’re acting like this is something weird," she teased, her voice light and flirtatious. "We’re stranded in the jungle, remember? Might as well make the most of it."

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with thoughts of how ridiculous this situation was, but then again, you had to admit that you were both soaked and freezing. And... well... the idea of getting warm didn't seem all that terrible.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for the hem of your own wet shirt, deciding to go along with it. As you pulled it over your head and joined her in your underwear, you could feel your face burning hotter.

When you were both down to your underwear, Jimin laid down next to the makeshift bed you had put together with the leaves. The warmth of the fire cast a soft glow over the cave, making everything feel more intimate.

"Come on," Jimin said softly, patting the space next to her. "It's more comfortable here. Let’s just rest for a bit, yeah?"

You stared at her for a moment, trying to keep your composure, but there was something in her gaze that made your heart flutter. The silence between you felt charged, the space around you suddenly too small.

You slowly lowered yourself next to her, lying on your side, your eyes never leaving hers. The tension in the air was thick, the distance between you both a mere inch or two.

Jimin’s hand reached over to gently touch your waist, her fingertips grazing your skin. You inhaled sharply at the contact, a shiver running through you, though not from the cold. Her touch was warm, and it sent a jolt of heat through your body.

Without thinking, your hand moved to her cheek, brushing a loose strand of wet hair behind her ear. Her breath caught slightly at the soft gesture, and the closeness between you grew undeniable.

"Hi," she whispered softly, her voice barely more than a breath. You couldn't help but smile, your heart racing.

"Hi," you whispered back, your voice trembling just a little.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other, neither of you daring to move. But then, Jimin’s hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you even closer. Your hand instinctively found its way to the side of her face, your fingers lightly tracing her jaw.

And then, without a word, your lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss. The feeling of her lips against yours, warm and tender, made everything else disappear. The fire crackled behind you, but in this small, cozy cave, with the rain still pouring outside, all that mattered was the shared breath and the connection between you.

It was slow at first, a testing kiss, but the warmth between you grew with each passing second. You could feel her hand gently pressing at your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and the tension that had been building for so long finally began to unravel.

She pushed you into your back, getting on top of you, her hands gripped your waist tighter, while yours moved from her cheeks to grip her hair, tugging it as you moaned into her mouth. She took the opportunity and slipped her tongue, rubbing it against yours.

Jimin pulled away, breathing heavily as she looked into your eyes. “Is this ok?” She panted. You nodded, pulling her back into a bruising kiss. Her hands moved down to your thighs, making your legs wrap around her waist, and moved her head down, leaving open, wet kisses on your neck and collarbones. She reached up, making you arch your back so that she could unfasten your bra, and you did the same as well. With one hand, she played with one of your breasts, while she took the other into her mouth, sucking and biting your nipple.

You whined, arching your back again and pulling her even closer to you. Jimin’s other hand moved downwards once more, playing with the strap of your panties. She looked up at you with hooded eyes, asking for permission. You whimpered and nodded, making her move your panties down. She kissed down the valley of your breasts and stomach, stopping at your chore.

Jimin breathed in and moaned. “You smell so good.” She whispered, and gave your clit a quick swipe with her tongue, making you let out a loud moan, with one hand you gripped her hair, while the other grabbed at whatever you could find in the ground.

Without wasting more time, Jimin dived in, eating you out as if you were her last meal. Her tongue moved in and out of your pussy while simultaneously sucking on your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Jimin!” You screamed out, feeling in cloud nine. She hummed into your core, making you shudder with pleasure. Your moans sounded louder and louder each time, but when Jimin shoved in two fingers, you let out a gasp turned moan. She was good. Too good.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, Jimin.” You whimpered out, feeling your orgasm building up. She pulled away for a second, still having two fingers inside you while her thumb circled the 8 figure on your clit.

“Come for me, baby. Show me how good you feel.” She encouraged. Your back arched once more, letting out a pornographic moan as you felt the tightening on your stomach snap, and you came.

You only saw white for a minute, trying to calm down your breathing, twitching from time to time as Jimin cleaned you up with her tongue.

Jimin sat up on her legs for a second, looking at you. She thought you looked beautiful like that. Your eyes that were half closed in euphoria, your chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath, your body in a thin sheet of sweat, that glistened with the light of the fire. You looked stunning in her eyes.

After seeing that you had managed to catch your breath, Jimin grabbed one of your legs, putting it up on her shoulder, she slotted the other between hers, both your clits touching. Both of you moaned at the feeling, and she started to grind against you. The feeling of your cores together made you let out the loudest moan again.

“Hmm, does that feel good?” Jimin teased, a smirk on her face as she looked you in the eyes. You nodded, blushing as you put a hand over your eyes. She had an intense look in her eyes making you shy. “Come on now, darling. Don’t hide that beautiful face from me.” She cooed, her hand that wasn’t gripping your ankle moved to grab your wrist. “Be a good girl for me and keep those eyes open, ok?”

You were sure that the moan you let out shook all the animals outside from how loud it was. You looked at her, the way her well defined abdomen flexed everytime she thrusted forwards, how her eyebrows furrowed with concentration, how hot the small grunts that left her lips were. God.

“I’m-I’m coming again, Jimin.” You managed to whine out, but she shook her head in disagreement.

“Wait for me, my love. Let’s come together.” She panted out, grinding against you even faster. You nodded and your eyes closed in concentration, trying not to come just by the nickname. “I’m so close, baby, so so close.”

You sobbed in pleasure, not knowing how much longer you could hold on to. “Please, Jimin. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Come baby, come for me.” She moaned, and grinded even harder. With a last moan, you let go, Jimin close behind you. Your mind was in a haze, you couldn’t even think. Jimin rode both of you out of your orgasms. Once you whined from sensitivity, she let go of you leg gently and looked down at the mess.

With her two middle fingers, she reached down and cooped up some of your mixed juices, putting them in her mouth while looking you in the eyes. She let out a moan at the taste. “Stick your tongue out.” She demanded.

Once you did, she leaned down and took it into her mouth, sucking it. You moaned at the lingering taste of both your cums combined. Once she pulled away she kissed your forehead. 

“Tired?” She asked you, her hand running through your messy hair. You nodded, feeling your eyelids get heavier at the feeling. “Ok, let’s sleep.”

The sound of rain falling and thunder lulled both of you to sleep, with your head on her chest and her arms around your waist in a protective manner.

--

The morning after the storm was damp and heavy, the jungle floor slick with mud and puddles, making every step feel like a chore. You and Jimin trudged along the barely-there path, both of you weary from the days spent navigating this unyielding wilderness, definitely not from last night. For a while, the only sounds were the soft squelch of mud beneath your shoes and the distant calls of unseen birds echoing through the trees.

Jimin, as always, was beside you, humming to herself, seemingly unfazed by the worsening situation. It was beginning to wear on you—the endless walking, the uncertainty of your location, the dampness of your clothes clinging to you—and the fact that despite your efforts, you still had no idea how to get out of the jungle. The sun was sinking lower, casting an orange glow across the trees, and there was no sign of civilization in sight.

"Ugh," you muttered under your breath, pushing your hair out of your face in frustration. "This is ridiculous."

Jimin shot you a playful glance. "What’s up? Did the jungle get to you?" she teased, stepping over a fallen branch as though it were nothing.

"It's not funny, Jimin," you snapped, your temper fraying at the edges. "We’ve been walking for hours and have no clue where we are. You keep getting distracted and we’re still nowhere closer to finding a way out!"

Her smile faltered for a second, but she quickly recovered, trying to lighten the mood. "Come on, it’s like Jumanji. If we make it to the top and scream ‘Jumanji,’ I’m sure we’ll be out of here in no time!" she joked, her voice light.

You stared at her, exasperated. "This isn’t a joke, Jimin. This is real. We’re lost. We don’t have food. It’s starting to get dark. And you—" You paused, your frustration taking over. "You keep acting like everything’s fine when it’s not."

The air between you thickened. Jimin didn’t respond immediately, her eyes flicking away from yours. You knew she was trying to deflect the tension, but it wasn’t working. She had always been like this—clumsy, absent-minded, carefree, but in moments like these, it just seemed like she wasn’t taking things seriously enough. The pressure of being stuck here, in this place that felt so endless and uncertain, was wearing you thin.

For a moment, Jimin remained quiet, and the teasing, playful energy around her slowly faded. You didn’t know why it felt like such a weight, but it did. Then, Jimin’s voice broke the silence, softer than usual.

"I’m sorry," she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "I know you’re frustrated. I’ve just been trying to make it fun, y’know? But... I guess I’ve been making it worse."

You looked at her, surprised by the shift in her attitude. There was no usual wink, no teasing smile, just a genuine sadness in her eyes.

She met your gaze, her expression unreadable. "I didn’t mean to make it harder for you. I know you’re trying to stay calm and figure things out. I’m... I’m sorry."

Your chest tightened, the anger you’d felt slipping away as quickly as it had come. You took a deep breath, realizing that, maybe, you were just as much to blame for the tension between you two. You hadn’t meant to snap at her like that. She was trying, in her own way, and it had been a long, exhausting day for both of you.

You sighed, your gaze softening. "No, Jimin, it’s not just you," you admitted. "I’m just... really frustrated. And scared, honestly. I don’t want to be lost here forever. I’m just... worried, okay?"

Jimin stayed quiet for a long time, her eyes searching your face. The tension in the air seemed to melt, replaced by something softer, something vulnerable. She gently nudged your arm with her shoulder, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"You know, if I had to be stuck with anyone in the jungle, I’m glad it’s you," you said, your voice quieter, more sincere. "I might be mad at the situation, but... I’m glad it’s you here with me."

Her eyes widened slightly, then softened with warmth. "I’m glad it’s you too," she murmured, her voice small but genuine.

You hesitated, then spoke again, a little more quietly this time. "I was... worried last night didn’t mean anything to you," she confessed, her voice a little shaky. "I was just so scared of—well, you know, how things could change after that."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your cheeks heated up. You hadn’t expected her to bring it up, not like this. You had your own fears, your own doubts. You thought she might have been joking, but hearing her voice crack like that made everything feel too real, too vulnerable.

"I don’t think you’re stupid for thinking that," you said softly, glancing down at your feet. "It did mean something to me. A lot, actually."

Jimin’s eyes searched your face, as if looking for any hint of truth. When she didn’t find any signs of you lying, she relaxed a little, her shoulders dropping as if a weight had been lifted. You could see her visibly exhale, the tension that had been in her body fading.

"I just—" You felt a lump form in your throat. "I’m just scared of not being found, you know? Not knowing if we’ll ever get out of here... It’s overwhelming."

Jimin’s gaze softened, her lips curling into a small smile. "I get it. I’m scared too. But hey," she said, nudging your shoulder with hers again, "we’re together. And I’m not leaving you."

You met her eyes, the sincerity in them reaching deep into your chest. "Thanks, Jimin," you murmured, feeling your heart swell with something more than just gratitude.

She smiled again, a little more teasing now, but the warmth in her eyes was unmistakable. "Of course," she said, "I’m your jungle guide, remember?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head, and you grabbed her hand, interlocking fingers. Both of you walked onward, a little closer, a little more at peace with the chaos around you.

--

As dusk fell, the jungle’s colors softened, bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. Jimin crouched beside a small, flickering fire, carefully arranging a modest “feast” she’d put together from whatever she’d managed to gather that day. She’d scoured nearby bushes for a handful of berries, found a few edible roots, and portioned out the last bits of snacks left from their supply. Despite the meager offerings, she presented them with a proud little smile.

You sat nearby, watching her in silence, and noticed the nervous flicker in her gaze when she glanced your way. She was clearly trying her best, and for a moment, the effort she’d gone to melted away some of your lingering frustrations from the day.

“Alright,” she announced, brushing her hands off and setting her makeshift ‘spread’ in front of you, “it’s not exactly a gourmet meal, but I’d say it’s a fitting peace offering. What do you think?”

You couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at your lips. The gesture was sweet, in the end. “I think it’s… perfect,” you said with a chuckle, letting a bit of warmth slip into your tone. “As far as jungle dining goes, you really went all out.”

Jimin sat down across from you, her expression softening. “I know I’m not the easiest to be around sometimes,” she admitted, scratching the back of her head, “and I definitely didn’t make things easier by getting us lost out here. So… I just wanted to say I’m sorry, for real.”

You met her gaze, and something about the sincerity in her eyes stirred something in you—a tug of warmth, a release of the tension that had been building between you both.

“Jimin… thank you,” you murmured, looking down at the ‘feast’ she’d prepared. “Honestly, even though you can drive me up a wall… I’m glad you’re here. I’m not sure I’d be handling all this as well on my own.”

Her face lit up at your words, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “I knew it,” she said with a playful glint in her eye. “You like having me around, admit it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Fine,” you said, pretending to be reluctant. “Maybe you’re not completely unbearable.”

She chuckled, reaching over to brush a stray piece of hair from your face, her fingers lingering against your cheek just a second longer than necessary. Her smile softened.

The silence stretched, comfortable yet charged. You could feel her gaze locked onto you, tracing the gentle lines of your face, and your breath hitched slightly as her hand slowly dropped from your cheek. She leaned in, her eyes never leaving yours, and you found yourself drawn closer, the space between you shrinking until you could feel the warmth of her breath.

Under the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the trees, her lips met yours, gentle at first. You leaned in, your hands coming up to rest on her shoulders, pulling her just a bit closer. She responded, her lips pressing more firmly against yours as the kiss deepened, the world around you melting into the quiet hum of the night.

When you finally pulled back, your faces still inches apart, you found yourself smiling, cheeks flushed. Jimin’s eyes sparkled in the moonlight, her playful expression gone, replaced by something tender.

“Well…” she whispered, breathless and smiling. “Guess it’s official—you’re stuck with me.”

--

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the makeshift camp as night settled in. You and Jimin sat close to the flames, the night air cool but comfortable. The silence between you was soft, contemplative, as if both of you sensed there was more to say but weren’t sure where to begin.

Jimin leaned back, stretching her legs toward the fire, her shoulder brushing against yours. She let out a deep sigh and glanced over at you, her expression thoughtful. “You know… there aren’t many people I’d want to be stuck with out here,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But I think… I’m pretty lucky it’s you.”

You felt your cheeks warm as she looked at you, her gaze steady and sincere. “Really?” you murmured, tilting your head as you studied her face. “I thought I was the one lucky to be stuck with you.”

Jimin chuckled, shaking her head. “I know I joke around a lot, and I know I’m kind of… well, clumsy and all over the place. It’s hard to be serious about stuff. But with you… I feel like I don’t have to pretend to be anything else. I can just be… me.”

Her words settled around you, stirring something warm in your chest. “I get that,” you admitted softly, surprised at how natural it felt to open up to her. “I think I’ve always been so focused on keeping it together, on being the responsible one… I sometimes forget to let my guard down.” You looked down, feeling a little exposed but relieved to finally voice what you’d held back.

Jimin nodded, a sympathetic look crossing her face. She reached out, brushing her fingers gently over the back of your hand. Her touch was light, but it sent a soft shiver down your spine, a reminder of how much closer you both had become over the past few days. “Then maybe we’re both learning how to be ourselves a little better,” she murmured. “Together.”

Without thinking, you slid your hand over hers, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. Jimin looked down at your hand covering hers, a small smile spreading across her face. “Guess we make a pretty good team, huh?” she said, leaning into you a little.

You nodded, your voice quiet but sure. “Yeah… we do.”

The conversation drifted on, each of you sharing small pieces of yourselves, moments and memories that you hadn’t told anyone else. The firelight flickered, illuminating the soft expressions on both your faces, the shared laughter, and the subtle way Jimin’s hand remained in yours, never breaking contact.

As the night grew late and the fire burned low, Jimin let out a small yawn, stretching her arms overhead before lying back on the ground beside you. She looked up at you, patting the spot next to her, and you lay down as well, feeling her warmth radiate beside you as the cool night air settled in.

Without a word, Jimin draped her arm over you, pulling you close as you shifted into her embrace. Her fingers brushed softly over your back, a soothing rhythm that matched the steady beat of her heart against yours. “This okay?” she whispered, her voice soft.

You nodded, leaning your forehead against her shoulder. “Yeah,” you murmured, your own arm slipping around her waist. “This is perfect.”

Jimin’s fingers traced lazy circles along your back as you lay together, her touch warm and comforting. The night sounds of the jungle surrounded you both, but for the first time since you’d arrived, you felt completely safe, anchored by her presence. The quiet grew deeper, words fading away as you settled into the warmth of her embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.

For a moment, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, and you felt her arms tighten around you, as if she were trying to keep you close even in sleep. A small smile tugged at your lips as you relaxed into her touch, letting the sense of comfort and understanding wash over you.

And in that moment, there was no fear, no frustration—only the steady warmth of her arms around you as sleep gently pulled you both into its embrace.

--

The sun was barely filtering through the dense canopy as you and Jimin carefully trekked deeper into the jungle, pushing past vines and thick vegetation that seemed to cling to every step. After the peaceful closeness of last night, the silence between you was comfortable, each of you sharing the occasional smile as you moved along. But as the hours stretched on, an uneasy feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach. It was quieter than usual, the normal jungle sounds muffled, and every shadow seemed to stretch just a little longer than before.

You slowed down, glancing nervously over at Jimin, who seemed oblivious as she hummed a tune under her breath, her usual upbeat self. “Do you hear that?” you whispered, stopping in your tracks. Jimin halted beside you, looking around as she tilted her head. “Hear what?”

But before you could answer, a low, growling sound rumbled from somewhere close by. You both froze, every muscle tensing as the growl echoed through the dense trees. Slowly, you turned toward the direction of the sound, and there, partially hidden in the shadows, was a large, sleek figure—a wild cat, its intense eyes fixed right on the two of you.

“Jimin,” you whispered, barely able to breathe. She instinctively moved in front of you, her arm stretched protectively, her body suddenly rigid with tension. “Stay behind me,” she murmured, never taking her eyes off the wildcat.

Without warning, the animal lunged. Your stomach dropped as you both scrambled to dodge it, stumbling backward. “Run!” Jimin yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling you along the jungle path as you both broke into a desperate sprint. You could hear the wildcat’s low growls and snapping branches behind you, its chase relentless as it closed in, and a surge of pure terror shot through you.

Jimin kept a tight hold on your hand, leading you down a narrow path through the trees. But in her haste, she tripped over a root, sending you both sprawling forward. You hit the ground hard, leaves and dirt scraping against your skin as you fought to stand, the wildcat’s growls now terrifyingly close. Just as you struggled up, you felt its claws brush past your leg, inches from grabbing hold. Heart pounding, you staggered back, feeling yourself shake from the close call.

In a surge of determination, Jimin grabbed a large branch off the ground and turned to face the animal, her eyes fierce despite the fear evident in them. “Come on, you overgrown housecat!” she shouted, her voice wavering slightly. She swung the branch as the wildcat lunged again, managing to hit it hard across the side. The animal yelped in pain and backed off, momentarily stunned but still watching you both with menacing eyes.

With a quick glance back at you, Jimin picked up a fist-sized rock and threw it with all her strength, catching the wildcat square on the nose. The animal growled and hissed, finally retreating into the shadows, its eyes glinting as it slinked back into the dense jungle.

For a few moments, neither of you moved, both breathing hard as you processed what just happened. Your body was shaking, your hands scraped and sore, but the sight of Jimin, fiercely protective and standing between you and the wildcat, grounded you.

“Are you okay?” she asked, turning to you, her eyes softening in concern as she took in your frightened expression and the small cuts on your arms and legs.

You managed a shaky nod, trying to keep the trembling in your voice under control. “I—I think so,” you said, exhaling deeply. “But that was too close.”

Jimin’s shoulders dropped in relief, her face breaking into a small, reassuring smile as she reached over, gently brushing a stray leaf out of your hair. “Good… I thought I was going to lose you back there,” she admitted softly, her tone far more serious than usual.

“I thought I was a goner,” you replied, half-laughing as the tension finally started to ease. “And here I was thinking you’d be the one I’d need to protect.”

Jimin chuckled, her gaze warm as she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Guess I just couldn’t let anything happen to my favorite jungle companion,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “Annoying as I am, I like having you around.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “I don’t know how to say this,” you began, your tone half-teasing, “but I’m actually… impressed.”

“Is that so?” she smirked, her playful demeanor returning as she leaned in close, her eyes searching yours. “Then let’s call it even—today, you get to be the damsel in distress, and I’ll be your knight in shining armor.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You were clumsy the entire way, and yet here we are. So maybe I do need you around after all.”

Jimin’s expression softened, and she brushed her fingers across your cheek. “Well, good, because I’m not planning on going anywhere without you.”

--

The jungle was surprisingly quiet that night, the hum of insects and occasional rustle of leaves blending into a gentle symphony that seemed to wrap you and Jimin in its embrace. The fire crackled low between you, casting soft shadows over her face as you both settled into a rare moment of calm after the chaos of the past few days. You glanced at Jimin, who was lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the flames. She looked different in this quiet moment, more grounded, and something in your chest tightened at the sight.

The words lingered on the edge of your mind, hesitant to be spoken, but you found yourself breaking the silence. "Jimin," you began, voice soft but steady. She looked up, her eyes meeting yours, and the warmth in her gaze somehow made you bolder. "I didn’t think I’d be saying this, but... I’ve actually grown to like being around you."

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, a slow smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Really now?" she said, her voice soft but playful. She shifted a bit closer, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that sent a small thrill up your spine. “Are you saying I’ve somehow charmed you with all my clumsiness and terrible sense of direction?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warming under her amused stare. “I guess that’s one way to put it,” you mumbled, struggling to maintain your composure. “It’s… been nice to have you around, I guess. Even if you almost got us killed a few times.”

She laughed, the sound rich and comforting. “I like having you around too,” she said, her voice softening. Her fingers lingered over yours, almost testing the waters, and then she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "And for the record, if I got us lost just so we’d end up on this little adventure together, I think it was worth it.”

You snorted, unable to hide your smile. “Oh, so this was all part of your elaborate plan, was it?”

“Absolutely.” Her tone was teasing, but there was a glint of sincerity in her eyes that caught you off guard. She shifted even closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “So… does that mean I’ve earned a second date after all?”

You felt a jolt run through you at her words, warmth pooling in your stomach as you tried to hold back a smile. “A second date?” you echoed, the words a bit flustered as you met her gaze. “This isn’t exactly what I’d call a first date, Jimin.”

She tilted her head, grinning mischievously. “Well, if it was, then I’d say it was pretty memorable.” Her gaze grew a bit more intense, and she leaned in, her face mere inches from yours. “But if you don’t see it that way, maybe I should’ve taken it slower with you. Didn’t know you were the type to jump right to…” She trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

You felt your cheeks heat up, caught completely off guard by her boldness. “That was… different,” you stammered, struggling to keep your cool under her teasing gaze. “I don’t usually… it’s not…”

Jimin chuckled softly, her hand tightening around yours. “Relax,” she whispered, her tone gentler now. “I’m just messing with you.” She brushed her thumb over your knuckles, her eyes soft as she studied your face. “But, for what it’s worth… I’m glad we ended up here together.”

The vulnerability in her voice made you pause, your heart skipping a beat as you took in the expression on her face—open, genuine, and maybe even a little bit nervous. The same feeling settled in your own chest, the realization that you didn’t just enjoy Jimin’s company; you genuinely liked her, maybe more than you’d admitted to yourself.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in silence, your hands still intertwined. The air felt heavy with unsaid words, the jungle around you somehow amplifying the weight of the moment. Slowly, you leaned forward, your face so close to hers that you could see the faint rise and fall of her breathing.

And then, with a soft, nervous laugh, you whispered, “So… maybe a second date wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Jimin’s eyes sparkled, her smile widening as she brought your hand to her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she murmured, her voice filled with warmth

--

The morning light cut through the dense canopy, its warmth a reminder that you had somehow survived yet another night in the wild. Every muscle in your body ached, and a strange, bittersweet quiet hung between you and Jimin as you packed up the small camp. Last night had been a whirlwind of relief, confessions, and laughter—and though you hadn’t said it out loud, part of you dreaded leaving the small, strange world the two of you had created here.

As you pushed forward, both of you moving slower than the past days, Jimin kept glancing back at you. You caught her eye more than once, and each time she’d flash you a small, encouraging smile, the kind that made your heart race no matter how many times you saw it. The silence between you was comfortable, weighted only by the feeling that you were nearing the end of something beautiful and rare.

Just as you were beginning to think the forest would stretch on forever, you heard it. A distant, rhythmic thump. Jimin stopped mid-step, her eyes widening as she turned to you, her face a mixture of disbelief and hope.

"Do you hear that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You strained to listen, feeling the pulse of the sound reverberate through the trees. And then it hit you—a helicopter. A real, tangible reminder that the world beyond the jungle hadn’t forgotten you. Relief flooded your chest, and Jimin let out a breathless laugh, her eyes shining as she grabbed your hand.

“Come on!” she exclaimed, pulling you toward an open clearing she’d spotted nearby.

You stumbled together, tripping over roots and branches in your haste until you both broke free from the tree cover. Together, you waved your arms, shouting and hoping with all your heart that the search team would see you. The helicopter seemed to pause, and then it began circling lower. Jimin’s face broke into a grin, and she tightened her grip on your hand, shaking it slightly as if you were sharing a private celebration.

"We’re going home," she whispered, her voice full of awe and gratitude. But as the sound of the helicopter grew louder, the realization hit you both that this—this strange, shared adventure—was about to become a memory.

Jimin’s smile softened, and her eyes met yours with an intensity that sent a shiver through you. She looked at you like she was memorizing every detail, every freckle, and every line. “Guess this is it,” she murmured, a note of wistfulness in her voice. “Our little jungle getaway is officially over.”

Your throat tightened as you swallowed, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Yeah… guess we’re going back to reality.” It sounded strange to say it out loud, as if speaking it made the end more real.

She lifted her hand to your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin with a gentleness that made your heart twist. “Reality isn’t so bad, though, is it?” she murmured, a teasing glint breaking through her serious expression. “Besides… I think we still owe each other a real first date. You know, with less mud and maybe a shower?”

You laughed, a small, shaky sound that was half relief, half longing. “Deal,” you said, voice soft but sure. “But no jungle hikes, please.”

Jimin let out a small laugh, her gaze never leaving yours. “No jungle hikes,” she promised, though her smirk suggested that she’d find another way to keep you on your toes. She held onto your hand a moment longer, thumb brushing over your knuckles as if she, too, was reluctant to let go. So she didn’t, she pulled you closer and kissed you hard and deep, full of emotions. She beamed at you once you both pulled away, making you break out in a grin of your own, happy evident in both your eyes.

The helicopter hovered just overhead, its blades kicking up a fierce wind that whipped through the trees and pulled you both back to the present. The rescue crew lowered a ladder, and one of them gestured for you to climb. Jimin gave your hand a final squeeze, releasing you with a soft smile.

“After you,” she said, a hint of playfulness slipping back into her voice, but her eyes were full of something deeper—something that made your heart skip a beat.

Climbing the ladder, you stole a glance down to see her watching you with a wistful smile, her gaze filled with promises. And as she climbed up behind you, the roar of the helicopter above you and the rush of wind around you, you felt a pang of something bittersweet. It was over. No more snakes, no more wildcats, no more berries; for a while at least.

By the time you settled into the helicopter, you were both quiet, letting the weight of everything that had happened sink in. Jimin’s hand found yours again as the helicopter lifted, squeezing it with a gentle reassurance. As the jungle began to shrink below you, you realized that even though you were leaving it behind, the closeness you’d found here wouldn’t fade.

Jimin turned to you as you neared the edge of the jungle, her voice barely audible over the helicopter's hum. "Maybe reality can be our next adventure," she said, her eyes bright with that familiar spark.

--

The fluorescent lights hummed softly above you, the steady buzz filling the otherwise quiet lab as you wrapped up your final tasks of the day. The sterile, clinical atmosphere seemed like a lifetime away from the jungle you’d left behind only a week ago. Your heart still carried the echoes of that wild, exhausting adventure—the adrenaline of survival, the closeness you’d shared with Jimin, and the overwhelming emotions that came with it. It was all so vivid in your mind, impossible to erase, and sometimes, it felt like you could still hear the rustling leaves, feel the humidity on your skin, and even catch a glimpse of Jimin’s teasing smile.

“Hey, got a minute?” Jimin’s voice broke through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. You looked up to find her leaning casually against the doorframe, her usual confidence on display, but with an unmistakable softness in her eyes. She was wearing her usual jeans and t-shirt, but somehow she seemed different—less like the clumsy, adventurous woman you had gotten to know in the jungle, and more like the person who had somehow wormed her way under your skin.

You smiled at the sight of her, your pulse picking up despite your best efforts to remain composed. “Yeah, what’s up?” You didn’t need to ask—it was obvious that she was here for something, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was on her mind. After everything that had happened, things felt... different between the two of you.

Jimin stepped further into the lab, her hands slipping into her pockets as she walked toward you. “I was just thinking…” She trailed off, her gaze flicking to the floor for a moment as she scratched the back of her neck. “You know, we never actually got around to that second date.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Second date?” The idea felt almost surreal, considering everything that had happened. But here she was, standing before you, asking for something as normal as dinner. You tried not to think too much about how quickly your heart began to race.

She nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah. I mean, I know we were kind of busy—what with all the, you know, being stuck in the jungle and running from wildcats—but I figured since we’re back to regular life now, we should give this whole ‘date’ thing another shot. A real one this time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her suggestion. “You’re sure you’re not just trying to make up for all the times you almost got us both killed in the jungle?”

Jimin made an exaggerated offended face, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. “Hey, that’s unfair. I was—” She paused, dramatically placing a hand over her heart. “—a brave and fearless leader. You were the one who didn’t trust me with the map.”

“Trust you? You were reading the map upside down!” you shot back, unable to keep the grin off your face. There was something about her that made it impossible to stay annoyed for long. Even now, when things were back to normal, the memory of her teasing and her warmth still lingered in the air.

“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point,” Jimin said, shaking her head with a grin. “But seriously. What do you think? How about that second date? No wild animals, no getting lost—just you and me, a nice dinner, and the chance to actually talk without worrying about survival.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. You’d spent so many days feeling frustrated and confused about how close you’d gotten to Jimin, how you felt drawn to her despite the clashing parts of your personalities. But here she was, asking for something real. You couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your stomach as you thought about it.

You leaned back against the desk, trying to appear nonchalant despite the growing warmth in your chest. “You really think dinner’s going to make up for the chaos of the past week?” you teased, but there was a softness to your tone that betrayed how much you appreciated her persistence. Despite all the joking, despite how annoyed you’d gotten at times, there was a part of you that had found solace in her presence. And the more you thought about it, the more you realized how much you wanted to explore this, whatever it was between you.

Jimin’s eyes sparkled. “Well, we don’t have to call it a ‘makeup’ dinner, but yeah… I’d really like to see you outside of that jungle madness. Just us. No distractions. No dangerous animals.” She stepped closer, her voice lowering. “Maybe… just a quiet evening with a little less chaos?”

Her words hung in the air for a moment, and despite the playful tone, you could sense the sincerity behind them. Jimin had a way of making everything seem lighthearted, even when it mattered most. It wasn’t that she was just carefree; she had this way of carrying the weight of the world lightly, as though nothing could truly bring her down. And you admired that. But there was also something else there, something deeper, hidden behind that playful façade.

“Okay,” you finally said, your voice quieter than you intended, the simple word feeling like it carried so much more weight than it should. “A second date. I think that sounds… nice.”

Jimin’s eyes lit up in delight, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She seemed genuinely happy, her face breaking into a grin that made your heart skip a beat. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, as if savoring the moment, before her expression softened and she took a step closer.

“So, dinner tomorrow?” she asked, her voice laced with that same playful tone. But this time, there was something more vulnerable about it. Something quieter, more uncertain, as if she wasn’t quite sure what you’d say next.

You nodded, your heart thumping in your chest. “Yeah,” you said, swallowing back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. “Dinner tomorrow. Sounds perfect.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, both unsure of what to say next. It felt like there was a new energy between you, an unspoken understanding that things were changing. The jungle was behind you, but the feelings you’d shared in those wild days hadn’t gone away. If anything, they were growing stronger.

Then, without warning, Jimin took a small step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against yours. Her touch was light but steady, her fingers grazing yours in a way that felt so familiar and yet so new. You felt your breath catch in your throat as she looked at you with those soft, dark eyes of hers.

“I didn’t think I’d miss getting lost in the jungle,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving yours. “But I kind of do.”

You felt a laugh bubble up from your chest, but it was soft, a little breathless. “Yeah, it wasn’t so bad after all,” you replied, the words feeling lighter now that the tension had broken. You felt more at ease, more certain about what you wanted.

You didn’t give yourself a chance to second-guess. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, closing the space between you. Her lips were soft, warm against yours, and the kiss was everything you hadn’t known you needed. It was gentle at first, almost tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters, unsure of how to move forward. But as you kissed her again, deeper this time, there was a sweetness to it that made everything feel right. The world outside the lab, outside of everything that had happened, faded into the background.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless, smiles lingering on your lips.

“So… tomorrow, yeah?” Jimin asked again, her voice soft, almost shy now, as if the kiss had made her feel just as vulnerable as you.

You smiled, a little unsure of yourself but more than ready for whatever this new chapter was going to be. “It’s a date,” you whispered.

a/n: tried a new writing style!

[y3sterdaysproblem]

you’re not sorry - m.s.

summary: could’ve loved you all my life if you hadn’t left me in the cold

warnings: angst, sensitive topics, no happy ending.

{read with caution}

wc: 3k+

Another night.

Another night waiting up for your boyfriend who could never be bothered to let you know when he’d be home; if he’d even be coming home that night.

It was like this for months at this point. Day after day of you waiting up just for him to stumble inside smelling like alcohol and weed, clothes disheveled as he plows through your front door. You didn’t even know what had changed, but it had.

Things were so good, beyond good, to the point where you guys were considering marriage, considering a family. Maybe it was all too much for him, but that wasn’t your burden to bear.

Your perfect, loving boyfriend had turned into someone you barely recognized, having to look so hard to find pieces of the man you fell for in the man you no longer knew.

You were about to give up and head to bed when you heard keys jingling at the front door, the man outside clearly struggling to unlock it. You stayed planted on the couch, waiting for him to finally come crashing in and make up some excuse about what he was doing out so late. You never believed him anymore.

When the door swung open and your boyfriend stumbled through it, his eyes met yours almost instantly, a small, forced smile appearing on his face. “Hey, baby,” he calls out, shutting the door behind him and kicking his shoes off before he made his way towards you, tripping over his own feet once or twice until he sat down next to you.

You let out an aggravated sigh, standing up and walking away from the couch, not wanting to sit next to him and smell the alcohol leeching off of his breath. It was beyond disgusting and if the smell didn’t make you sick, the thought of everything would. The thought of your life crumbling in a matter of months was enough to make you cry so hard you threw up on multiple occasions, the depression caused by this man that swore he loved you being the culprit of so many breakdowns you couldn’t even count anymore.

“You’re drunk, Matt,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

His eyes trail up to you, shaking his head quickly. “I’m not drunk, just tipsy, I swear. I stopped drinking a few hours ago.”

Your heart dropped. A few hours ago?

“And where have you been in those last few hours, hm?” You question, not really knowing if you wanted to know the answer.

Matt groans, throwing his head back on the couch. “Here we fucking go. All you do is nag on me fucking constantly, why do you think I’m gone all the time? I’ll tell you. Because you can’t fucking shut the fuck up and let me live for two minutes. You’re always up my ass asking me what I’m doing or who I’m with.”

Your heart starts to race in your chest, knowing you’re about to get in another fight with the man you used to never argue with. You used to have perfect communication, always able to work through your issues and things that bothered you, but now it was like a flip switched and he wanted to argue about everything, sober or not.

“I never see you anymore, Matt! You’re never home to just spend time with me! All I fucking want is to lay in bed and watch a movie with my boyfriend who cuddles with me and tells me he loves me! You act like I don’t exist and it hurts and I’m trying to stay but sometimes I wonder why I do.” Your voice is shaky as you speak, the adrenaline and emotions quickly getting to you. You never were good at fighting without crying.

“Why?” Matt questions quietly, dropping his gaze to his lap.

You’re confused. “Why what?” You ask him dryly, arms still crossed in an attempt to protect yourself, almost like you were protecting your heart.

He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks. “Why try to stay? If I’m so awful?”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was this it? Was this the fight you’ve been fearing for the last few weeks? Has everything you both have worked towards finally hit a wall?

“Because… because I keep hoping this is just a phase and you’ll snap out of it and love me again,” you choke out, tears filling your eyes. “I don’t understand what I did to make you not love me anymore and every day that I sit here by myself and think about it, I can’t come up with an answer and you won’t tell me. I would do fucking anything for you and you can’t even tell me you love me anymore.”

Matt let out a big sigh, picking at a rip in his jeans absentmindedly. “I do love you, I just… I need some time to myself.”

You scoff, crying now and not trying to stop it. “You don’t think I would’ve given you time? Space? Matt, all you had to say was that you were getting overwhelmed and needed time think about what you wanted, I would’ve understood that. Do you understand the fucking weight behind that? You have a woman who would let you take a step back from a relationship just because she knows how much you value your own space and time and your own autonomy. You will never fucking find a woman that will treat you the way I treat you. You will never find someone who loves you unconditionally through everything, including this. I swear to god, Matt, you better get your act together before you come home to fucking nothing.”

“Maybe that’s what I want!” Matt yells suddenly, getting up from the couch to walk over to you. You weren’t afraid, you knew he’d never hit you, but he’s also never yelled in your face like this either. “Maybe every fucking night I come home hoping you’ve packed up all of your shit and left. Hell, you could pack my shit and I’d be happy, I don’t fucking care, I just want to come home and know that you’ve finally given up on me. Don’t you get it? I’m trying to make it easy for you. I’m trying to be the worst boyfriend I could possibly be and you still won’t leave!”

The moment he’s done speaking you swear you could hear a pin drop. You felt like your world had completely stopped spinning on its axis.

You’re lightheaded as you stare at Matt, tears flowing freely down your face. He really was completely unrecognizable.

“What did I do?” You cried, still wanting nothing more than to feel your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he wouldn’t, and it wasn’t. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Matt listened to your cries with a straight face, barely even seeming like he cared. “I just… don’t want to be with you anymore. Our relationship has run its course.”

You drop your head and let out a broken sob, reaching a hand up to try to wipe away your tears, but it was to no avail, they would just keep coming. “I love you with everything I have, I… I need you, Matt, how could you do this?”

Matt is silent, feeling like he’s already said all he needed to say. If he cared at all, he really didn’t show it.

You pick your head back up and look at Matt, your own eyes red and puffy, when you see it. You think it’s a shadow at first, but the more you stare, the more you realize your eyes aren’t deceiving you. You take a step forward and reach towards Matt, pulling the hood off his head and tugging the collar down, another choked cry falling from your lips.

“Is that a fucking hickey?” You accuse, looking up to meet his eyes. “You’re fucking cheating on me, too?!”

Matt grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him, throwing your arm back towards yourself before pulling his hood back up. “Back the fuck up, dude, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You laugh in his face, shaking your head in disbelief. “You are so fucking pathetic, Matt,” you spit at him. “You are so much of a pussy that you couldn’t even be a man and break up with me, you needed me to do it for you. Do you feel good about yourself? Knowing you cheated on someone who would literally give you the world? God, I can’t believe I almost gave you a fucking kid, you’re a joke of a partner. I feel bad for anyone that has to deal with you for the rest of their life.”

Matt clenches his jaw tightly at your words, hating how you knew exactly how to strike a nerve with him. “You think I feel good about this? I fucking don’t but I didn’t know what else to do, you would’ve never listened if I tried to leave you, you would’ve talked me into staying and I would’ve been miserable for the rest of my life!”

“You are the one that said you wanted a family! The one that said you wanted to marry me and buy our own farm and live in the middle of fucking nowhere! You said all of those things, not me!” You wanted to hit him so bad. To shake him, to kick him, to do anything to make him see how none of this made sense to you. How could he say all of those things and turn on you so quickly?

You two were laid in bed under the blankets, neither of you ready to get out of bed for the day just yet. The sun shone through the blind, illuminating Matt’s face perfectly, his blue eyes reflecting the light in a way that had you damn near in a trance, unable to pull your own eyes away from him. “I hope our babies have your eyes,” you tell him quietly, both of you laying on your sides to face each other.

He smiled shyly at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “Stop admiring me, it makes me awkward.” He mumbled, making you laugh.

“I’m your girlfriend, I’m supposed to admire you. Plus, it helps that you’re really hot and easy to admire.” You reach up and brush your hands through his hair that definitely needs a trim, pulling it back from his face to get a better view. “I’m serious, though. Your eyes are so pretty compared to mine.”

Matt opens his eyes and shoots you an annoyed look. “Stop it, our kids would be lucky to have any of your features, you’re fucking stunning.”

You giggle and roll over onto your back, staring at the ceiling for a few moments before speaking. “Do you ever think about that? Like what our kids will look like? I think about it all the time. Especially like… a little girl, running around with your bright blue eyes and your big smile. I just know if we had a little girl she’d be so beautiful, Matt.” You turn your head towards your boyfriend to see him already smiling at you.

“I think about it all the time,” he starts, reaching a hand out to rest on your stomach that had been exposed by your shirt riding up, softly trailing his thumb back and forth. “I think about how protective I’d be if we had a daughter, or daughters. I think about how much of an honor it would be to raise a son with you. I think about what would happen if you got pregnant with twins or, god forbid, triplets.” You laugh at this, knowing it would be an absolute shit show. “I think about our kids, sure, but a lot of times I think to myself, ‘wow, if I love her so much now, I can’t imagine how much I’ll love her when she’s the mother of my children.’ That’s what I think.”

Your eyes become glossy and your vision goes slightly blurry as you stare at Matt, seeing the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke to you. “I love you,” you tell him and his face lights up, leaning in to place a small kiss on your lips.

“I love you more.”

“I did,” Matt shrugs his shoulders like it was no big deal. “But feelings change. People change.”

You shake your head angrily, not believing him. “No, not like that. Feelings don’t change like that, Matt. You met somebody else, didn’t you? All this time you’ve been seeing someone else.”

Matt groans, rubbing his eyes harshly. “So what?! It doesn’t matter, we’re over now, right? I’ll sleep on the couch and pack my shit tomorrow, can we just go to bed?”

You sniffle, the truth finally setting in that he’s completely given up and there was no getting him back. The Matt you once loved was gone forever and there was nothing you could do about it.

So you decided to land the final blow and make him realize how stupid he really was.

You grab his right hand with your left, facing it palm up as you reach your free hand into your pocket, grabbing the strip of paper you had kept in there, waiting for the perfect moment to drop this bomb on him. You slap the paper into his open hand before taking a step away, crossing your arms again.

“What is this?” Matt asks, staring down at the photos in front of him, panic setting in his chest. “Babe… babe, what is this?” He looks up at you, eyes wide. You swear you could almost hear his heart pounding.

“It’s an ultrasound, jackass.” You snap at him, completely over his shit.

Matt’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, eyes snapping between you and the photos. “You’re… pregnant?” He chokes out. Despite all the alcohol he’s consumed tonight, he feels the most sober he has in weeks, the reality of the situation crashing into him like a truck.

You laugh at his reaction, hating how he suddenly cared about you again. “Was,” you tell him bluntly, shrugging your shoulders like nothing you said mattered. “Turns out never getting any sleep and stressing out over your loser, lowlife boyfriend isn’t good for a baby.”

Matt lets out a huff of air like his lungs had collapsed in on him, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. “You… you were pregnant, and now you’re not?” He asks quietly, his own voice now shaking.

“Yes, Matthew, I was and now I’m not. That’s how that fucking works.” You walk over and snatch the pictures from him, ignoring his pleas of denial. “While you were out doing whatever the fuck or whoever the fuck you wanted, I was here throwing up every day by my fucking self, barely even able to eat oatmeal without getting sick. I was here reading up on how to get through pregnancy or how to be a good mother. I was here shopping for fucking baby clothes and decorations. And I was the one here miscarrying in our bed, by myself!” You have no idea when you started crying again, but you were, and there was no stopping it this time. “I was the one going to doctors appointments and listening to our baby’s teeny tiny heart beating. I was here looking at pictures of her tiny feet and tiny toes, wondering if she’d look like you or like me. I was here picking up the pieces when I found out her teeny tiny heart had stopped.”

Matt’s eyes had filled with tears now, too, his bright blue eyes only made brighter by the reflection of the lamp lit in the corner of the room. “Her?” He croaked, voice failing him. “It was a girl?”

You let out a sob, nodding your head weakly. “I found out the day I found out she was gone,” you cry, voice entering a higher pitch from your throat tightening. “I wanted her so bad, Matt, and I was just waiting for you to come around so I could tell you, and… you just never did and now we’re over. I went from a girl who wanted nothing more than a family with the man she loves to being a girl who’s oddly grateful she lost a baby so she doesn’t have to deal with looking at her daughter that reminds her of the man that broke her heart.”

Matt reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, releasing a shaky breath out. “I’m sorry,” he whimpers, looking you dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry, if I had known-.”

“If you had known then what? You wouldn’t have treated me like shit? You wouldn’t have cheated? That should’ve been the bare fucking minimum, Matt, and now you’ve let down who was supposed to be the two most important girls in your life.” You point your finger at him as you speak, wanting to drive your point home and let him know how badly he had fucked up. “I would’ve done fucking anything for you, including growing your baby, and you threw that away, not me.”

“I was just scared, it was all happening so fast!” Matt wails, reaching out for you. “I got overwhelmed with the thought of settling down and I freaked out, I’m sorry.”

You push his hands away, ignoring his pleas. “You said it yourself, Matt. It’s over. Besides, I can’t bring her back. I’m always going to look at you and remember how you treated me when I had your baby inside me, and how you treated me when I dealt with the loss of our baby.”

Matt sobbed, placing his head in his hands as his shoulder shook. “I didn’t know!”

“You shouldn’t have to know!” You cried, hands flailing in front of you as you spoke, or more yelled. “You shouldn’t have to know I’m pregnant just to treat me like your fucking girlfriend! I would’ve done anything for you, including give up my body for nine months to give you a family, and you couldn’t even be loyal, and you have to live with that for the rest of your fucking life.”

Matt sunk to his knees in front of you, head resting on your stomach as he wraps his arms around your hips. You just stare down at him, your tears dripping into his hair. “I’m so sorry, please let me fix this,” he sobs into your sweater, hands gripping the back of it. “I fucked up so bad, I see that now.”

The sight of him made you want to crumble. You wanted to give in, to comfort him, to forget these last few months and go back to being the perfect happy couple you used to be. You didn’t know how you were supposed to live without him after all this time.

But you deserved better.

“Get up,” you tell him quietly and he turns his head up to look at you, cheeks soaked with his own tears. You reach down and cup his cheek, thumb swiping under his eyes to wipe new tears that fell. “Get up, Matt.”

He sniffles and obliges, standing in front of you once again, closer this time.

“You’re not sorry you hurt me,” you start, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re just sorry it backfired so badly.”

Matt grabs your hand that still rested on his face, holding it close and leaning into it. “Please,” he says, voice raspy. “Can we spend one more night together?”

You break eye contact to drop your eyes to the floor, shoulders shaking with the sob that ripped through your body.

“Yes,” you croak out, immediately melting into the arms that wrapped themselves around you like you’d disappear if he let go, your face tucking into his neck that smelled like cheap floral perfume, the scent feeling like a dagger to your heart.

You ignored it, though. Anything for one more night with the love of your life.

-

taglist

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of the last yr scene.

wilmon endgame • episode 6

the camera work is so on point - it follows wille around moving frenetically, as to emphasize the hurry and the tension.

simon gets in panic mode for a sec. he was never over wilhelm but definitely thought their relationship was.

at first he looks ... scared - not of wille but of what he feels for him at this point. he's still in love but they got to the finish line, they broke up with no idea of when or if they will talk to each other again, there's no reason for wille to chase after him if not to change something.

it makes his thoughts spiral, but somewhere in his little heart he has a lot of hope too and that's why he steps out of the car to hear what he has to say.

these words really mean everything and i'm glad they're told directly to simon. it's such a sigh of relief for wilhelm to get this off his chest and mean it for real: he's doing something for his own sake finally - to be free, to be happy, to be in control of his own life for once.

he never got to choose anything - somebody else has always done it for him - but he no longer has to be afraid anymore.

simon is just as relieved and the proudest: he proved over and over again to care so deeply. to see wilhelm constantly hurting inevitably hurt him too.

he knew wille was brave - he actually told him once - and he was so right. it takes a lot of courage to do what wille just did.

shut up he's adorable :') playing with his fingers and trying not to break into a smile. he wants to look calm and collected but his heart is jumping out of happiness.

this comes after the are you sure you're over me? - breaking up was all it took for wille to think that simon must not love him anymore: to earn love and for everything to be perfect in order to deserve love is what his family and royal life always taught him - but simon's what the hell do you think? proves him so wrong.

the tears in his eyes i cannot - this is the face of a man who's bursting out of love, he adores simon this much.

they crush into the hug like they've been dying to do it. what a moment it must be for them to close the distance.

in this hug they find what they both were needing the most.

they hold on to each other. emotions are so overwhelming and it's written all over their faces - it feels too good to be real.

it's almost scary to let go now and i love how they tighten the hug at the same time, clinging to make it last longer.

and they're at the same height so simon has to be on his tippy toes ahsjkh.

oh the beauty in simon feeling every emotion to the fullest and letting them all out. he doesn't hold himself back and it is truly heartwarming to watch.

this hug is healing - he's giving joy to be back in wille's arms, proud of wille for putting himself first, relief because the fear of losing him was too much to handle.

the single tear drop and the pure disbelief in his expression. he caresses wille's cheek and keeps looking at him like he's the most precious thing.

doing the triangle method - again. old habits never die huh.

wille letting simon choose to whether kiss him or not.

it's our simon we're talking about, the one that risked it all and initiated their very first kiss bc he liked wille that much already, so could he possibly not do that now? he obviously does and can't help but smile into it.

they can't get enough of kissing and wandering hands. it's like their only way to make this become more and more real.

fair to say they're kinda obsessed with each other's hair!

love love looove the transition from them kissing in secret in the dark of the night to them kissing freely out in the open in the daylight - the most beautiful metaphor.

completely different plot points but the feelings involved are so familiar - reunion kisses are very much their brand: there's longing, passion, need to savor the moment to make it last.

and this time it can really last forever.

something super special about simon not replying with i love you too but sticking to i love you - it is not just reciprocal.

this shot haunts me. it's from the documentary and idk why it wasn't used in the final cut, i'll make space for it here anyway!

wille can't stop smiling and simon never takes his eyes off of him - he's emotionally overwhelmed by the way he bites his lip and his chin trembles. my heart.

no ray of sunshine between them could ever distract me from wilhelm diving into this kiss with his eyes open.

simon is definitely being pulled closer by the waist here and i take it very personally.

i was already full on sobbing when this part of the scene came up - sara and felice calling them out bc they are too caught up in their own bubble.

they still take one more moment to just look at each other so fondly tho and try to get a grip on what has just happened.

i get you wille! simon is the loml too.

this shot is sooo!!! hillerska in the rear view mirror as they drive away - time for the last bittersweet goodbye.

all of them are wearing white, they're driving off in a white car, most carefree than ever - sounds a lot like freedom and fresh start.

some things never change - they're the most comfortable and happy when they can be just them, just like this.

god knows where they're headed but it doesn't really matter as long as they're together.

wilmon endgame babyyyy.

they've been through so much but come so far eventually. it's the end of young royals but the beginning of a new chapter in wilmon story - the best one - and it's only theirs to write from now on.

it's still going to be tough, storms are still about to come their way and ruin plans, life is a mess but at least they have each other. they're holding hands in a we are in this together kind of promise and it's so reassuring to know.

it was a hell of a ride but love and hope wins - and there's truly no one who deserves it more than them.

time to appreciate the comparison between wille the perfect crown prince and messy hair with undone shirt wille!

he looks at the audience for the very last time with the most content smile and we can tell he really is - ready. to leave us behind, to face the future, to experience life in the way we've seen him fight for before.

wilmon breaking the fourth wall together at the end would've been insane, but it feels so right to focus on wille actually: it's always been just him, it all started with our eyes on him and his journey, the choice to abdicate is for his own sake and not for simon - he said it himself - so for him to be alone in the closing shot makes the most sense to me.

wilhelm finally getting his own little family of people who loves and values him, simon sharing life with the person who's made him feel seen and cared for - this is honestly the best finale we could’ve ever asked for.

[logos0]

Through the Storm

You had always hated storms. Not the ones outside—the crashing thunder and relentless rain were oddly comforting—but the ones that raged inside your mind. They brewed at inconvenient times, bringing doubt, anxiety, and an unbearable weight you could never fully describe. Being with Leah had always been your calm in the chaos, but lately, even she felt like a ship lost in the swell.

The rift started small—a disagreement over her schedule, a misunderstanding about a missed call. Leah was always busy. Between her training sessions and commitments to the England squad, it sometimes felt like you were just another appointment she pencilled in. You tried not to let it bother you, and at first it worked, but as time passed, you could not push down your frustration. Your feelings no longer simmered under the surface but started bubbling over at the worst moments.

It all came to a head one night after her return from an away game. You hadn’t seen her in weeks, nor had you been able to call her, and while you wanted to savour her presence, the frustration you’d been holding in came spilling out instead.

"You’re never here, Leah," you said, your voice trembling with both anger and sadness. "I get that football’s your life, but am I even part of it anymore?"

She stood in the doorway, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, exhaustion painted across her face. "Of course, you are," she replied, her tone sharp with defensiveness. "You think I don’t miss you when I’m gone? You think this is easy for me?"

"Well, it doesn’t feel like it," you shot back, tears welling in your eyes. "You come home, and it’s like… I’m just a stopover before the next big thing. Like I’m not enough."

Leah dropped her bag and stepped closer, but you turned away, wiping your eyes furiously. "Don’t say that," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You’re everything to me."

"Then why doesn’t it feel like it?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Leah stood frozen, her eyes searching yours for something she couldn’t find. Those eyes which had pulled you into a ban so long ago and now were tormenting you. "I don’t know how to fix this," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

And just like that, the storm between you grew too wild to tame. Leah left that night, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the sound of rain pounding against the window.

The days that followed were agonizing. Leah texted you sporadically, but the messages felt hollow, as though she was trying to bridge a gap that words alone couldn’t mend. You left most of them unanswered, unsure of what to say—or if you even wanted to.

Until one night, a week later, when your phone buzzed with a message that was different from the rest.

Leah: I’m outside. Please, just… let me talk.

You hesitated, your heart battling between wanting to see her and wanting to stay angry. But the thought of her standing outside in the cold, waiting for you, tugged at your resolve. With a sigh, you grabbed a coat and opened the door.

Leah was there, drenched from the rain, her usually confident demeanour replaced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard. That reminded you of times long past. She looked at you with those piercing eyes, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

"I know I’ve hurt you," she began, her voice steady but soft. "And I’ve spent the past week trying to figure out how to make it right. But the truth is, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that I can’t lose you."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each word. "Leah… I just feel so invisible sometimes. Like you’re here, but not really here. As if I am just another appointment, a chore."

She nodded, stepping closer. "I know. And you’re right—I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve let football take over everything, and I thought… I thought you’d be okay with that because you’re so strong. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking you for granted."

Her words hit you like a wave, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying. Leah reached for you, hesitating for a split second before pulling you into her arms. You let yourself melt into her, the warmth of her embrace cutting through the chill of the rain.

"I’m sorry," she whispered into your hair. "For everything. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not enough, because you are. You’re more than enough. You’re my everything."

You pulled back just enough to look at her, her face inches from yours. "I don’t need you to have all the answers," you said quietly. "I just need to know that you’re willing to try."

Leah nodded, her expression serious. "I’ll try every day for the rest of my life, if that’s what it takes."

Her lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant, as if she were asking for permission to fix what had been broken. You kissed her back, the storm inside you finally beginning to settle.

The rain continued to fall, but for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again. Leah was here, and so were you—together, ready to weather whatever came next.

[heartowan]

★ WINTER VISITOR : red hood x reader!

( cuss words ) ──────────────── ★

* im not from america so i have absolutely nooo idea how much is -20°c in fahrenheit im sorry 😭 *

You used to enjoy winter so much more when you were a kid. The snow, the warm clothes, the atmosphere, your mom's hot chocolate... everything was so perfect back then. Now, though, you didn't like it as much.

Not because you grew up to be an insufferable grump, but things weren't as easy. At 9, you didn't have to walk on snowy streets from campus to work to your house in a -20°C weather. Freezing your ass used to be fun when it was voluntary.

But, fortunately, the holidays were already coming, so you wouldn't have any more classes during these few weeks, and you'd also get a few breaks from your job at the bookstore. Finally, some rest.

That's what you thought when you approached your porch, pulling out the keys to open the door in a practiced movement, but you stopped when your eyes caught a glimpse of something red. Then you walked a little closer, and you were able to make out the shape of someone sitting down with their legs stretched, hand cluching their side, a weird helmet on their head and a little cropped brown jacket... what a weird combination.

You knew that helmet, though. You lived in his area, after all.

"Can I help you?" Anyone, literally, anyone, would advise you to not speak to him and simply go find some place else to crash for the night until he went away. The thing is, you wouldn't listen anyway.

He raised his head in your direction, the white eyes of that creepy/fucking weird helmet staring at you, sizing you up and probably judging the fact that you were wearing green tights and red shoes. But, hey, who even was he to judge your style choices?

"Actually, yeah." He said, and even with the modulator distorting his voice, you could hear the hoarsness and the faint tireness. "I'm fucked up over here, I'm not sure I can walk anymore."

You furrowed your eyebrows at that and reached for the phone in your pocket. Carefully, you crouched down beside him and turned on the torch to be able to see his wound better. "Let me see." You said, urging him to take his hand away.

He revealed the wound to you, and God, it was nasty. A bloody and very bumpy gash started from the left side of his abdomen to a little bit before the height of his shoulder blade. Absolutely disgusting. Whoever did that was probably trying to split him in half.

"Oh, my God." You mumbled, your eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah." He added, nodding his head in understanding to your shock. "Can you at least let me in to... I don't know? Clean it up? It just starts bleeding more if I walk, and I don't wanna get an infection."

What kind of stupid fucking little dumbo would let a stranger dressed like that into their house, especially in Gotham?

"Yeah, come on in." You said, your eyebrows furrowing even more at your own brainlessness. They were almost knitted together like a unibrow.

★...

He sat down on your couch like his body weighted tons, and you noticed how his wound did an odd ripple movement. It just got weirder.

"I have a first aid kit in my bathroom." You said, stripping off your coat and your jacket. "I'll go get it. Do you need anything else?" He just shook his head, and you quickly disappeared into the little hallway.

Red Hood used this moment to look around your house, trying to distract himself from the pain and dizziness. He took in how your walls weren't white, but some kind of eggshell color and there was a green wall too, that one covered in framed paintings, pictures and many posters, as well as some hanging plants.

There were just so many plants. Your couch was more comfortable than his bad, and you had a fluffy mat at the center of the living room, between the couch and your bookshelves, which were full of books he could barely recognize in the dim light.

Oh, yes, the lamps. You had little lamps everywhere and one big lamp beside the couch, but they were all warm and barely even illuminated a thing. They made the room very cozy, though.It was so homey, and it looked like you. If he saw you randomly on the street and for some reason he decided to guess what your house looked like from the inside, that would be it. Maybe not as many lamps, but still.

"Okay, I'm back." You walked out of the little hall in hurried steps, a little red box in your hands. You kneeled close to him on the couch. "Fuck, the lights." You mumbled, and he though your annoyed tone was funny, so he smiled a little under his helmet.

After switching on the big, white light, you kneeled again and gently moved the ripped fabric of his shirt away from the cut. He was staining your couch with blood, but you decided not to care at that moment. With some gauze and saline solution, you cleaned the whole thing up, the sides, and what you could reach of the insides, then, you sprayed some antiseptic on it.

"This is disgusting, but I don't think you'll need stitches." You murmured, not looking at him. Your eyes were focused on the wound. "At least not on the whole thing."

"I can manage." It was all he said.

"I'm gonna patch it up so it isn't exposed." He simply nodded at that, and you started covering the extension of the gash with the little pieces of gauze you had, and then, you secured them with some adhesive tape. "All done."

He stayed there for at least forty minutes, and you noticed how he seemed to have fallen asleep at some point. Maybe he was too tired. You didn't care, but you let him rest anyway.

When he woke up from his nap, you had changed outfits into something more comfortable than the jeans you wore before. A pair of gray sweatpants and a very soft brown hoodie on top of your black Iron Man t-shirt.

"You want some tea?" You offered, looking down at him as he seemed to access the situation — probably forgot what the hell had happened for a second.

"Yeah... yeah. What is it?" He mumbled, his distorted voice sounding groggy. You smiled faintly at that.

"It's peach and ginger." You said. "I like it."

You poured a small amount of it in a little mug you had. It was one of your favorites, with little leaves painted all over it.

"I put honey on it, tastes better." You handed him the mug. And then it hit you... how the hell was he gonna drink the tea with that weird ass helmet on? "How do you- oh."

He shut you up when he removed the helmet after one little click at the back of it.

"You wear a mask under your helmet?" You arched one eyebrow, and he chuckled at your reaction.

"It's for the effect." He said and took a sip of the tea. "Very sweet."

You took a moment to look at the exposed parts of his face. He had a few scars all over it, a sharp jaw and slightly plumpy lips, which were rosy from drinking the tea. He also had flushed cheeks, probably from the cold and a seemingly straight nose. You couldn't really tell the shape from that distance.

"Thanks for taking care of that... and for te tea. And for letting me nap on your couch." He said, looking up at you.

His voice sounded so melodic now without the modulator. It was just slightly raspy, not absurdly deep, but not even a little bit high, and just so much more easy on the ears than you'd ever expect Red Hood's voice to be.

"You're leaving?" You asked in a slightly exasperated tone that surprised both of you and put your own mug down. "You sure you're gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry." He shook his head, waving his hand as if to say it wasn't a big deal. You just shrugged at that.

He put his mug down, it was almost empty. So he liked the tea. With his helmet in hand and walking a little more stable than before, he offered you a small smile before stepping over to your door.

"Bye." He murmured. "Thanks again."

You stood there after he left, in your living room, with the big light on, staring at the door. What an unusual night. Your eyes drifted back to the blood stain on your couch, and you groaned internally at the fact that you were the one that was gonna have to clean that.

That only reinforced your belief that vigilantes only brought more and more trouble.

☆

first part here !!

[loulovingho]

Rocker and Deacon are out shopping for groceries or whatever and Deacon just subconsciously reaches to hold Rocker's hand or to put his hand on Rocker's waist, while they're talking about something else, and Deacon not letting go even when they bump into someone they know.

Rocker is a little surprised because he remembers how they started off all clandestine and now Deacon is freely showing affection in front of others.

Okay, I saw this and had to write something about it 😩 then it turned into 1000 words! I hope you enjoy!

They've been together, really together, for four months now. No more hiding, no more affair, no more dirty little secret.

Deacon's moved into his own apartment, he's explained everything to the kids, he and Annie are figuring things out through their attorneys.

He and Rocker have even filled out all the proper relationship agreements at work.

All these steps came pretty naturally. They left both Deacon and Rocker feeling more free than they ever had their entire lives. Like a heavy weight had been lifted off of them.

They weren't exactly the most exciting pair. Sure, the sex was incredible, adventurous, sometimes daring, but life was about more than sex.

It was about fixing the broken cabinets in Deacon's apartment, it was dealing with the nightmares Rocker sometimes suffered from, it was making sure they got enough rest to be able to deal with whatever happened at work the next day.

It was figuring out who they were as a couple, all the things they liked and all the things they hated. It was laughing together, fighting together, helping each other, holding each other.

It was dealing with grocery shopping for two households on a Saturday afternoon.

“We should have gotten two carts.”

“You really want to try and maneuver two carts down every aisle through all these people?”

Deacon managed to step out of the way just before a lady could ram him with her cart. He sighed. “No. I just want to be done with this.”

“We just gotta get some breakfast foods for your place and we'll be finished.” He waved Deacon along. “Scoot scoot.”

With an eye roll, he turned and headed for the next aisle, Rocker following behind with the cart.

Deacon grabbed up a box of Fruity Pebbles and placed it on the side that had all his items, stopping with he noticed the look Rocker gave him.

“What?”

“That for you?” Rocker asked.

“Do I look like a Fruity Pebbles kinda guy to you?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

Deacon glared at him. “They're for the kids, Donovan. It's their favorite.”

Rocker shook his head, pushing the cart forward to get out of another man's way.

“What? What is that?” Deacon asked. “Why are you shaking your head?”

“They don't like Fruity Pebbles anymore.”

“Yes they do.”

“No they don't.”

“Yes, they- How would you know?”

“The last time they came over,” Rocker explained, “Lila mentioned that Samuel threw up Fruity Pebbles in the car and now none of the kids can handle the smell.”

Deacon picked up the box. “No Fruity Pebbles then,” he said, placing it back on the shelf. After letting three people pass between them, he moved back over to Rocker's side.

“Should I be offended that you know my children better than I do?” he questioned, wrapping an arm around Rocker's waist as they continued down the aisle.

Rocker smiled. “Well, technically you were in the shower when they told me, so...”

“Oh, the truth comes out,” Deacon said with a laugh. “You were just gonna let me think I should know this information?”

Rocker shrugged as they turned the corner. “It's fun to see you squirm sometimes.”

“Oh, you're gonna be doing some sq-”

“David!”

A woman's voice had Rocker and Deacon turning their heads to the side.

“Mrs. Chase!” Deacon greeted, smiling brightly at the older woman. “Good to see you!”

“You too. Busy day in here today, isn't it?”

“That's what we were saying,” Deacon answered, giving Rocker a pat on his side before resting his hand back on the same spot.

It was a little thing, and Rocker knew he should be used to it by now, but he wasn't. They'd spent over a year hiding. Making sure no one saw a touch, a glance, heard an unprofessional word. They'd once driven an hour out of town to go out to dinner somewhere that they knew no one would know them. And even then, Deacon had to be sitting so he could face the entire restaurant, just in case someone were to enter that he recognized.

Now though, with this woman that Deacon knew but Rocker had never seen before, his hand remained just above his hip.

“Mrs. Chase, this is my boyfriend, Donovan Rocker,” Deacon introduced. “He goes by Rocker though.”

And damn, that still felt new too.

Boyfriend.

Not acquaintance.

Not co-worker.

Not friend.

Boyfriend.

It might seem a little juvenile to some, using the word boyfriend when the two of them were in their forties and fifties, but in their line of work “partner” could mean many things. So, boyfriend it was.

Deacon gave Rocker's waist a little squeeze, “Donny, this is Mrs. Chase from my old church. Makes the best pies in the world.”

Rocker smiled, reaching out to give her hand a shake. “Nice to meet you, Ma'am, I've actually heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, my,” she replied with a little giggle, shaking his hand as a blush rose on her cheeks. “You're very handsome.”

“You're very sweet.”

She looked over at Deacon once she let go of Rocker's hand. “A lot of us have missed you at church, David.”

“I miss some of you guys too, it's just... that's Annie's place to go now. It wouldn't be fair to her.”

He left out the part of the news spreading like wildfire as soon as he and Annie filed for divorce. How the rumors had gotten so bad that the priest had called and asked him to not return. It wasn't like he was going to anyway, but that definitely put the final nail in the coffin.

Mrs. Chase nodded, her facial expression remaining soft, nonjudgmental. “Well, you have my number still, don't you?”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“Good. Use it. Call me soon and I'll bring you a couple of my pies.” She looked back at Rocker. “You like cherry?”

“Love it.”

“Good. I better get going. It was good seeing you, David, and nice meeting you, Rocker.”

After saying their goodbye's, they started down the next aisle.

Using one hand to steer the cart, Rocker wrapped the other around Deacon's shoulder, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Can we get out of here now?” Deacon asked, gripping onto Rocker's shirt with his hand as they passed a group of very loud tourists.

“Breakfast foods,” Rocker reminded him.

Deacon dropped his head down. “Damn it.”

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Second Chance - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve tried to get you back, but it's not always easy to gain back the trust one loses.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Warning: Angsts, like kind of a lot of it, injured character, but nobody dies. A bit of fluff with a happy ending.

Words: 9 224

AN: So, sweet anon asked about part two of Enough is Enough, and well, why the hell no :) I feel like shit (being sick isn't fun), so apologies x4 for any mistakes. My brain isn't braining...

Steve didn’t give up.

Steve’s first apology came in the form of flowers.

They arrived at the coffee shop just as you were opening. A delivery driver handed you the bouquet—a lush arrangement of white roses and baby’s breath, wrapped in soft tissue paper. For a moment, you just stared at them, the scent of fresh blossoms mingling with the familiar aroma of coffee beans. The card nestled within the bouquet bore only three words: I’m so sorry.

Your chest tightened. You didn’t have to wonder who sent them.

“Who’s the secret admirer?” your coworker teased, grinning as she wiped down the counter.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you set the bouquet aside, trying to push down the lump rising in your throat. It was a beautiful gesture—one you might have cherished once—but now it felt hollow.

The flowers kept coming. Every morning, a new arrangement would appear. Daisies, tulips, sunflowers. Each accompanied by a note in Steve’s handwriting: I miss you. I love you. Let me fix this.

You didn’t know how to feel. Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him the chance to make things right. But another part of you—the part still raw and aching—refused.

Then he started showing up.

The first time, you nearly dropped the coffee pot in your hand. He stood outside the shop, leaning against the lamppost with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. He looked different—tired, almost haunted, as though the weight of your absence was something physical he carried with him.

You ignored him, focusing on your customers, but you could feel his presence like a shadow just beyond the glass. When you finally closed the shop, he was still there.

He said your name softly as you stepped outside, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t stop walking.

“Please,” he called after you, his tone desperate. “Just give me a chance to talk.”

You turned back, your jaw clenched. “Why now, Steve? Why couldn’t you talk to me when it mattered?”

His face crumpled, and for a brief moment, you felt a pang of guilt. But you shook it off and kept walking.

It didn’t deter him. Steve came back the next day, and the day after that, always waiting silently as you worked. It wasn’t until a week later that you finally confronted him.

“What do you want from me, Steve?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

His blue eyes searched yours, filled with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in months. “I want to make this right,” he said, his voice breaking. “I love you. I never stopped. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening with conflicting emotions. He looked so sincere, so heartbroken, that for a moment, you almost believed him. Almost.

“It’s too late,” you said finally, your voice barely audible. “You can’t fix this. I don’t trust you anymore.”

The pain in his eyes was like a physical blow, but you didn’t let it show. You turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, defeated.

But the truth was, you weren’t as strong as you seemed. Every step away from him felt like ripping a piece of yourself apart. By the time you got home, you were shaking, tears streaming down your face as you collapsed onto the couch.

You loved him. God, you still loved him. But love wasn’t enough anymore.

***

The days blurred together after that.

You went through the motions of your life—opening the coffee shop each morning, smiling at customers, making small talk with your coworkers—but it all felt mechanical, like a script you had memorized long ago. The warmth and joy that once fueled you were gone, replaced by an empty numbness you couldn’t seem to shake.

Nights were the worst.

Sleep eluded you, no matter how many hours you spent staring at the ceiling or tossing and turning under your blankets. The bed felt too big, too cold without him there. You hated yourself for missing him, for craving the comfort of his arms even after everything he’d done. But the longing wasn’t something you could control.

It wasn’t just the nights, though. Little things kept sneaking up on you, tearing at the fragile stitches holding you together.

The sight of his favorite mug on your kitchen counter. The book he’d borrowed but never finished, still sitting on your nightstand. The faint scent of his cologne that lingered on your favorite sweater, no matter how many times you washed it.

You tried to distract yourself, but nothing worked. Books, once your solace, couldn’t hold your attention. The words blurred together, and you’d find yourself reading the same sentence over and over without absorbing a single word.

Your friends noticed.

“You need to eat more,” one of them said during a group dinner you’d been forced to attend. She pushed a plate of pasta toward you, her brow furrowed with concern. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, picking at the food with a fork.

Kat wasn’t buying it. She leaned across the table, her sharp blue eyes cutting through your defenses. “You’re not fine. And we’re not going to pretend otherwise.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you had to blink back the sting of tears.

Steve’s friends noticed too. Sam popped into the coffee shop one morning, leaning casually against the counter as you took his order.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said matter-of-factly, his tone laced with concern.

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice light. “Busy days, you know how it is.”

He didn’t press you further, but the look he gave you lingered long after he left.

***

The worst was when Steve came back.

It was late in the evening, just before closing, when he walked into the shop. You froze behind the counter, your heart leaping into your throat at the sight of him.

He looked just as broken as you felt. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was mussed like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. He lingered near the entrance, as if unsure whether he was welcome.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice hesitant.

You gripped the edge of the counter, steadying yourself. “We’re about to close.”

“I know,” he said, his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides. “I just… I wanted to see you.”

You turned away, pretending to busy yourself with cleaning up. “You shouldn’t be here, Steve.”

“Please,” he said, stepping closer. “Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening painfully. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” he said, his voice breaking. “And because I can’t stand knowing I hurt you like this.”

His words cracked something inside you, but you couldn’t let him see it. “You need to leave,” you said firmly, refusing to meet his eyes.

For a moment, he hesitated, as if hoping you might change your mind. But when you didn’t, he nodded, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

You watched him go, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the empty shop. And then you broke.

You sank to the floor, tears streaming down your face as the weight of your grief crushed you.

You loved him. God, you still loved him.

But you didn’t know how to let yourself forgive him.

***

You didn’t expect to find Bucky Barnes on your doorstep.

It was a gray Saturday morning, and the porch floor creaked under your weight as you aimlessly swept away fallen leaves. When you opened the door and saw him standing there, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and his blue-gray eyes watching you carefully, you froze.

“Bucky?”

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual, though his expression betrayed a flicker of hesitation. “Mind if I come in?”

You hesitated. This was Steve’s best friend. Seeing him felt like reopening wounds that you’d been trying desperately to let heal. But there was no judgment in his gaze, no pressure—just concern. So, with a heavy sigh, you stepped aside and gestured for him to enter.

He stepped into the living room, glancing around like he was cataloging the space. You folded your arms, standing stiffly near the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, doll,” he teased, his lips quirking into a faint smirk.

“Bucky,” you said, your voice sharper now. “Why are you here?”

He sighed, the smirk fading. “I wanted to check on you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quickly. “I’m not with Steve anymore. There’s no obligation.”

He raised an eyebrow, his head tilting slightly as he leaned against the back of your couch. “Obligation? That’s not why I’m here, sweetheart. You’re my friend too. And whether or not you’re with Steve doesn’t change that.”

The softness in his tone made something crack inside you. You wanted to argue, to brush him off, but instead, you felt your defenses falter.

“Besides,” he continued with a wry grin, “someone’s gotta make sure you know not all men are idiots. Steve might be an amazing guy, but even amazing guys screw up sometimes.”

That last sentence hit you like a slap. You felt the tears coming before you could stop them, your vision blurring as all the emotions you’d been bottling up threatened to spill over. You turned away, trying to pull yourself together, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Hey,” he said gently, stepping closer. “Talk to me.”

That was all it took for the dam to break.

“I don’t know how to stop loving him,” you blurted, your voice trembling as the words spilled out in a rush.

Bucky froze, his expression softening as he watched the tears stream down your face. You sank onto the couch, your shoulders shaking, and he followed, sitting beside you without a word.

“I hate him for what he did,” you continued, your voice cracking. “I hate that he made me feel like I didn’t matter, like I was just… there. And now? Now he’s trying to fix it, like I’m supposed to just forget everything and let him back in.”

Bucky listened silently, his hands clasped together as you poured your heart out.

“It feels like a slap in the face,” you said, your chest heaving with each breath. “Like he thinks flowers and apologies will erase months of feeling invisible. I hate him for that. But more than anything, I hate that I still love him.”

You buried your face in your hands, your voice muffled as you added, “I don’t want to love him anymore. I want it to stop, Bucky. I want it all to stop.”

The room was quiet for a long moment. Then, Bucky sighed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Doll,” he said softly, “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but loving him isn’t something to hate yourself for. Steve… he’s a complicated guy. He doesn’t always get things right, but I promise you, he loves you. More than you know.”

You shook your head, your voice shaking. “If he loved me so much, why did he treat me like that? Why did he make me feel like I didn’t matter?”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “You’re right. He screwed up. Big time. But… he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for years. It doesn’t excuse how he hurt you, but I’ve seen him lately, and he’s a wreck without you.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, your tears blurring the intensity in his gaze.

“He’s not good at showing it,” Bucky continued, “but he’s an amazing guy. I’ve known him my whole life, and I’ve seen him at his best and his worst. And I know he’ll never stop trying to make this right. The question is… would you ever let him? What would it take for you to let him back in?”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and unrelenting. You didn’t answer right away, your fingers gripping the hem of your shirt as you stared down at the floor.

“I don’t know,” you whispered finally. “I don’t know if I can. It’s like… every time I see him, I remember how much it hurt. And even if I wanted to try again, I don’t know if I’d ever trust him not to hurt me like that again.”

Bucky reached out, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he said gently. “But whatever you choose, just know this: you deserve to be happy, sweetheart. Whether that’s with Steve or without him.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any trace of pity or judgment, but there was none. Just quiet understanding and unwavering support.

When he finally stood to leave, he gave you a small smile. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his voice steady. “And no matter what happens, I’m here. Steve or no Steve.”

You watched him go, his words echoing in your mind long after the door closed.

And for the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe—just maybe—you could find a way forward.

***

The compound gym was almost empty, save for the quiet hum of machinery and the dull thud of fists meeting a punching bag. Steve Rogers stood at the far end of the room, his knuckles raw and his breathing ragged. He’d been at it for hours, his frustration and grief pouring into every swing, every strike. The bag swayed violently under the force of his hits, the chain creaking with each impact.

“You keep that up, and you’ll be patching the damn thing again,” Bucky’s voice rang out, casual and dry as ever, though the concern in it was unmistakable.

Steve paused mid-swing, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly as he turned to see his best friend leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. Bucky’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes betrayed a softness Steve wasn’t sure he deserved.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, his voice hoarse from hours of exertion.

“Figured I’d find you here,” Bucky replied, stepping into the gym. “Thought maybe you’d stop using that bag like it owes you money and actually talk to me.”

Steve sighed, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Not in the mood, Buck.”

“Well, tough,” Bucky shot back, grabbing a folding chair and dragging it noisily across the floor. He plopped it down unceremoniously a few feet away from Steve, crossing one ankle over his knee. “Because I just came from seeing her.”

The color drained from Steve’s face. He froze, his fists still clenched at his sides. “You… you saw her?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said evenly, watching his friend’s reaction carefully. “She didn’t slam the door in my face, so I’d say I’m doing better than you.”

Steve flinched, the weight of Bucky’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He turned away, his hands gripping the edges of the punching bag as he tried to steady himself. “How… how is she?”

Bucky hesitated. He’d seen the raw pain in your eyes, the tears you tried to hide, and he knew Steve wasn’t ready for the truth. But lying wouldn’t help either.

“She’s a mess, Steve,” Bucky said softly. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Steve let out a shaky breath, his head hanging low. “I did this to her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I pushed her away, made her feel like she wasn’t enough. And now… now I don’t know how to fix it.”

Bucky stood, closing the distance between them. “Steve, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Steve turned, his eyes red and tired.

“She still loves you,” Bucky said firmly, his voice steady. “But she’s hurt, and she’s angry. And you can’t expect her to just forget all that because you’re showing up with flowers and apologies.”

“I know that,” Steve snapped, his voice breaking. “God, Buck, I know. But what else can I do? Every time I see her, it’s like she’s slipping further away, and I don’t know how to reach her anymore.”

Bucky’s gaze softened, and he placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You start by understanding that this isn’t about fixing things overnight. It’s about showing her that you’re willing to put in the work, no matter how long it takes. That you’re not just sorry—you’re ready to be better.”

Steve nodded, though the despair in his eyes didn’t fade. “She said she doesn’t trust me anymore.”

“Then earn it back,” Bucky said simply. “Show her that you’re not the same guy who hurt her. And for God’s sake, stop treating this like a battle you can win with brute force. You’re not fighting Hydra here, Steve. You’re fighting for her.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged, his head dropping into his hands. “I don’t even know if she wants me to try.”

Bucky crouched slightly, meeting Steve’s gaze head-on. “I asked her,” he said quietly.

Steve’s head shot up, his blue eyes wide. “What? What did she say?”

“She doesn’t know,” Bucky admitted. “She’s scared, Steve. Scared that if she lets you back in, you’ll hurt her again. And honestly? I don’t blame her.”

The words hit Steve like a blow, but he didn’t argue. He knew Bucky was right.

“She told me something else too,” Bucky continued, his voice softer now. “She said she doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And it’s killing her.”

Steve’s breath caught, his chest tightening painfully. “She… she said that?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. She loves you, Steve. But love isn’t enough—not after what you put her through. You have to show her that you’re not just saying the right things. You have to be the right man for her. The man she fell in love with.”

Steve closed his eyes, his mind racing with memories of you—the way you used to laugh, the way you’d look at him like he was your whole world. He’d taken that for granted, and now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get it back.

“What if I can’t?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “What if I’ve already lost her?”

Bucky’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “You don’t get to give up, punk. Not on her, and not on yourself. You want her back? Then fight for her. And don’t stop until you’ve shown her that she’s worth everything.”

Steve swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “How? How do I even start?”

Bucky gave him a small, knowing smile. “Start by listening. By showing up—not just for her, but for the life she wants. Show her that she’s not a convenience, Steve. She’s the center of it all.”

Steve nodded slowly, the weight of Bucky’s words sinking in. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t give up on you. Not now. Not ever.

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said quietly, his voice rough but sincere.

Bucky grinned, clapping him on the back. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a hell of a road ahead of you.”

Steve nodded, determination flickering in his tired eyes. He didn’t know how long it would take or if he’d even succeed, but for you, he’d move mountains.

Because losing you wasn’t an option. And he’d spend the rest of his life proving it if that’s what it took.

***

Steve left the gym after his conversation with Bucky feeling drained but determined. His best friend’s words weighed on him, both a reminder of the man he wanted to be and the man he hadn’t been for you. He knew Bucky was right—this wasn’t a fight he could win with brute force or a quick apology. It would take time, patience, and a quiet kind of devotion that he’d never had to show before.

He didn’t expect you to forgive him overnight. He didn’t even expect you to notice what he was doing right away. But he had to start somewhere.

***

It was early morning when Steve pushed open the door to your coffee shop.

The familiar bell jingled above him, the sound stirring memories of quieter, happier times. You were behind the counter, moving with practiced ease as you worked the espresso machine. You didn’t see him at first, but when you turned, your eyes locked, and Steve felt the air shift.

“Morning,” he said, his voice soft, careful not to disrupt the fragile peace of the moment.

You blinked, your expression guarded. “Morning.”

“I’m here for coffee,” he said, stepping forward. “For the team.”

Your brow furrowed, skeptical. “The team sent you?”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Not exactly. Thought I’d take my turn.”

You didn’t reply, but you turned back to the espresso machine, the hum of it filling the silence. Steve watched you work, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, and for a moment, he was struck by how natural this scene felt, even with the tension between you.

When you handed him the tray of drinks, your fingers brushed his briefly, and he saw the faintest flicker of something in your eyes—surprise, maybe, or something softer.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice warm but careful.

You didn’t answer, but you nodded, and he left without lingering, the bell jingling softly as the door swung shut behind him.

*

The next time he came, it was quieter. Midmorning, after the breakfast rush had died down, Steve appeared with a small brown paper bag in hand.

You were cleaning the counter, lost in thought, when his voice broke through the silence.

“You forget to eat when you’re busy,” he said simply, placing the bag on the counter.

You looked up, startled. “Steve…”

“It’s just breakfast,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall your protests. “Nothing more. Just thought you might need it.”

You hesitated, the words you wanted to say caught somewhere in your throat. Slowly, you opened the bag, the warm scent of eggs and bacon wafting up to meet you.

“From that diner you like,” he added, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Figured it was better than you skipping meals.”

You stared at the bag for a long moment before meeting his eyes. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I wanted to.”

He didn’t stay long, didn’t push for conversation. He just gave you a small nod and left, leaving you with breakfast and a strange, lingering warmth in your chest.

*

Natasha was relentless when it came to her movie nights, and somehow, you found yourself at the Tower despite your protests. The room was cozy, filled with the low murmur of conversation and the scent of popcorn. You settled into one corner of the couch, trying to ignore the way Steve’s presence tugged at the edges of your awareness.

When the opening credits began to roll, Steve appeared beside you, holding something in his hands.

“Here,” he said quietly, offering you a pair of thick woolen socks.

You frowned, confused. “What’s this?”

“Your feet get cold,” he said simply, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at him, your chest tightening, before reluctantly taking the socks. “Thanks,” you muttered, slipping them on.

He didn’t linger, didn’t push for more. But later, when the movie reached its tense climax, he handed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate—rich, creamy, with just the right amount of cinnamon.

“You don’t have to—” you started, but he cut you off with a small, knowing smile.

“You love hot chocolate after horror movies,” he said, his tone soft. “Figured you might want some.”

You took the mug, the warmth seeping into your hands, and for the first time that night, you let yourself relax.

*

The envelope was waiting for you in your mailbox, unassuming but carefully placed. Inside was a single ticket to the sold-out Broadway show you’d mentioned to Sam weeks ago.

The note tucked inside was brief, written in Steve’s familiar handwriting: Thought you’d like this. Hope it’s as good as you imagined.

You stared at the ticket for a long time, your heart aching with a mixture of gratitude and frustration. He remembered. Of course, he remembered.

You told yourself it didn’t matter, that it was just a kind gesture, but deep down, it chipped away at the walls you’d built around your heart.

*

The night your car broke down was cold and quiet, the kind of night that made the world feel vast and lonely. You sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the lifeless dashboard, your breath fogging up the glass as you fought the urge to cry.

You tried calling a few friends, but no one answered. Finally, with trembling fingers, you dialed the one number you swore you wouldn’t.

“Sweetheart?” Steve’s voice came through the line, steady and concerned.

“My car won’t start,” you said softly, ignoring the pet name, hating how small your voice sounded.

“Where are you?”

You told him, and he didn’t hesitate. “Stay there. I’m on my way.”

When his truck pulled up beside you, he climbed out without a word, his breath misting in the cold air as he checked under your hood. His movements were sure and efficient, his presence steadying.

“Alternator’s shot,” he said finally, closing the hood. “I’ll take you home.”

You hesitated, your pride warring with your gratitude, but the freezing air made the decision for you.

The drive was quiet, the heater humming softly as Steve navigated the empty streets. He didn’t pry, didn’t try to fill the silence with unnecessary words. He just… drove.

When you woke up the next morning, your car was back in its usual spot. The engine purred like new when you started it, and a small note was taped to the dashboard: Shouldn’t give you trouble anymore. Call me if it does.

*

Each gesture was small, unassuming. Steve never pushed, never demanded more than you were willing to give. He just… showed up, quietly and consistently, letting his actions speak louder than words ever could.

And slowly, despite yourself, you began to notice.

***

Three months had passed since the breakup.

You wouldn’t say things had gone back to normal—far from it—but something had undeniably shifted between you and Steve. His quiet persistence, the way he showed up without pushing or demanding anything from you, had started to chip away at the walls you’d built around your heart.

At first, your conversations were stiff and polite, nothing more than a few sentences exchanged when he stopped by the coffee shop or brought you breakfast. But as the weeks went by, those moments grew longer, softer. He’d ask about your day, about the books you were reading, or the things you enjoyed, and you found yourself answering more openly. It wasn’t quite like before, but it was closer to the first moments of your relationship, back when everything had been new and uncomplicated.

Still, there was a voice in the back of your mind that wouldn’t let you forget. A quiet, insistent whisper that reminded you of how he’d hurt you, how he’d pushed you aside and made you feel invisible.

That voice grew louder the day he asked you to talk.

***

It was late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the windows of the coffee shop as you wiped down the counter. The shop was quiet, the usual morning and lunch rushes long gone, leaving you with only the hum of the espresso machine and the soft clatter of dishes.

The sound of the bell above the door caught your attention, and when you looked up, Steve was there.

He’d been coming in more often lately, not just to pick up coffee for the team but to see you, to talk to you. This time, though, something about the way he stood—his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched—told you this wasn’t just a casual visit.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice careful as he approached the counter.

“Hey,” you replied, setting the towel aside.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked, glancing around at the empty shop. “I mean… can we talk?”

You hesitated, your stomach twisting. The vulnerability in his expression was disarming, but that voice in the back of your mind warned you to tread carefully. Still, you nodded, gesturing toward one of the empty tables.

Steve followed you, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from you. For a moment, he said nothing, his hands clasped tightly on the table as he stared down at them. You waited, your heart thudding quietly in your chest as the silence stretched between you.

Finally, he took a deep breath and looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he began, his voice low but steady. “About what I should say. How I should say it. And the truth is… there’s no easy way to do this. So I’m just going to be honest.”

You nodded, your throat tightening as you braced yourself for whatever was coming.

“I screwed up,” he said, the words heavy with regret. “I let you down in a way I never should have. And I’ve been trying to figure out why—why I acted the way I did, why I pushed you away when you were the best thing in my life.”

His hands tightened into fists, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to find the right words. “I think… I think I was scared. Scared of not being enough for you, scared of dragging you into everything that comes with being me. The missions, the stress, the weight of it all—I didn’t want to burden you with that.”

Your brow furrowed, confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. “So you decided to ignore me instead? To shut me out?”

“I know,” he said quickly, his voice breaking slightly. “I know it doesn’t make sense. It was selfish and stupid, and I wasn’t thinking about how it would make you feel. I just… I thought if I kept it to myself, if I didn’t tell you about everything that was going on, I could protect you from it. But all I did was hurt you.”

His eyes glistened, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “I’ll never forgive myself for that. For making you feel like you weren’t enough when you were everything to me.”

The raw emotion in his voice made your chest ache, but the wounds he’d left were still fresh, still tender.

“Steve…” you began, your voice trembling, “you hurt me more than anyone ever has. Do you know that?”

He flinched, his jaw tightening, but he nodded.

“I spent weeks wondering what I did wrong,” you continued, your words spilling out in a rush. “I kept asking myself why I wasn’t good enough for you, why I wasn’t worth your time or your attention. And then, when you finally started trying again, it felt like a slap in the face. Like you thought a few kind gestures could erase everything you put me through.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you fought to keep your voice steady. “I wanted so badly to be enough for you, Steve. That’s all I ever wanted. Just to be enough.”

“You were,” he said quickly, his voice cracking. “You are. God, you’re more than enough. I was the one who wasn’t. I didn’t know how to handle it—how to be the man you deserved—and I let that fear control me. But I swear to you, I see it now. I see what I lost because of it.”

He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “I know I don’t deserve another chance. I know I might have ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. But if there’s anything—anything—I can do to change your mind, tell me. I’ll do it. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can be better, that I can be the man you need me to be.”

His voice dropped, barely more than a whisper. “I just need to know if there’s any part of you that still believes in us.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding as the weight of his words settled over you. The pain, the anger, the love—all of it swirled together in a storm of emotion that left you speechless.

Finally, you let out a shaky breath, your voice trembling as you said, “I don’t know, Steve. I don’t know if I can trust you again. I don’t know if I can forget how much it hurt.”

His face crumpled, but he nodded, accepting your words without argument.

“But…” you continued, your voice softer now, “I can’t pretend I don’t still feel something for you. I can’t pretend I don’t still love you.”

His eyes widened, hope flickering in their depths.

“That doesn’t mean we can go back to how things were,” you said quickly, your tone firm. “If we’re going to try… if we’re going to even think about trying, it has to be different. You have to be honest with me, Steve. About everything.”

“I will,” he said immediately, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear, I will.”

You nodded, your throat tight with the weight of what you’d just said. It wasn’t forgiveness—not yet—but it was something. A small step toward rebuilding what had been broken.

And as Steve reached out, his hand brushing against yours, you let yourself hope—for the first time in months—that maybe, just maybe, it was a step worth taking.

***

It had been a week since the conversation with Steve, and your emotions were in turmoil. You felt caught between the raw pain of the past and the cautious hope of what could be. His words haunted you—his apologies, his promises, the way his voice had cracked when he told you how much he still cared.

You needed clarity, and there was only one person who could give you the no-nonsense advice you desperately needed: Natasha.

She arrived at your place that evening, a takeout bag in hand, and didn’t waste a second settling herself at your kitchen table. Her sharp green eyes studied you as you sat down across from her, picking at the noodles she’d brought for you.

“All right,” she said, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Steve,” you admitted, your voice soft.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. “What about him?”

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the table. “We talked. Really talked. He told me everything—why he shut me out, how he felt, all of it. He apologized for everything and… I believe him, Nat. I really do.”

“But?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“But I don’t know if I can trust him again,” you confessed, your throat tightening. “I don’t know if I can let myself go through that again. He hurt me so much, Nat. How do I just move past that?”

Natasha studied you for a moment, her gaze piercing. “Let me ask you something,” she said finally. “If you didn’t still love him, if you didn’t still want something with him deep down, would we even be having this conversation right now?”

You frowned, her words hitting you hard. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been three months,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “If you were done with him, if you really didn’t care anymore, you’d have moved on by now. You wouldn’t still be here, agonizing over whether to give him another chance.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came. She wasn’t wrong, and deep down, you knew it.

“I’m not saying you have to forgive him tomorrow or even next week,” Natasha continued, leaning forward. “But if there’s still a part of you that wants to believe in him, don’t ignore that. You owe it to yourself to figure out what you really want. Not what you’re afraid of, not what you think you should do. What you want.”

Her words lingered long after she left, a quiet truth that refused to be ignored.

***

At the same time, Steve was grappling with his own uncertainty.

He sat in the Tower’s lounge, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as he stared out the window. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your conversation, about the raw pain in your voice when you told him how much he’d hurt you.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Steve turned to see both Sam and Bucky entering the room. They exchanged a look before sitting down on either side of him.

“You’ve been brooding,” Sam said bluntly. “What’s going on?”

Steve sighed, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “It’s her,” he admitted.

“Figured,” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair. “What happened?”

“I talked to her,” Steve said. “Told her everything—how I felt, why I shut her out. I apologized for all of it.”

“And?” Sam prompted.

“She said she doesn’t know if she can trust me again,” Steve said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “But she also said she still loves me. I don’t know what to do with that, Sam. I don’t know how to make it right.”

Sam leaned forward, his expression serious. “Look, man, love isn’t always enough. Not when there’s hurt involved. If she doesn’t trust you right now, that’s on you to fix. You can’t just expect her to forgive and forget because you feel bad about it.”

“I know that,” Steve said quickly, his jaw tightening. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to mess this up again. I need to figure out how to show her that I’m serious without overwhelming her.”

Bucky gave him a long, measured look. “You’ve been trying,” he said finally. “We’ve all seen it—the little things you’ve been doing. But if you’re asking me, you’re not going to fix this by tiptoeing around her. You’ve got to be honest, Rogers. If you want her back, you need to let her see all of you. The good, the bad, and the stuff you think she won’t want to deal with.”

Steve frowned, his gaze dropping to the floor. “What if she doesn’t want to deal with it?”

“Then she doesn’t,” Bucky said simply. “But if you hold back, you’re not giving her the chance to decide for herself. And that’s not fair to either of you.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “You’ve got to let her see that you’re not just saying the right things, Steve. You’ve got to show her. But don’t make it about fixing things fast. Healing takes time, for both of you.”

Steve exhaled slowly, the weight of their words settling over him. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Sam said with a grin. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you, Cap.”

***

Steve spent the next few days thinking about their advice. He’d been so focused on not pushing you, on giving you space, that he hadn’t realized he might be holding back too much.

When he saw you next, it was at the coffee shop, just as you were closing up for the day. He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, his heart pounding.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice breaking the quiet.

You looked up, surprise flickering across your face. “Hey.”

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

You nodded slowly, setting down the rag you’d been using to clean the counter. “Sure.”

He gestured toward one of the empty tables, and you followed him, sitting down across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a fragile thread.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Steve began, his voice steady but low. “About how much I hurt you, how I made you feel like you weren’t enough. And you were right. I let you down in ways I’ll never forgive myself for.”

Your throat tightened, but you stayed silent, letting him continue.

“I’ve spent so much time trying to fix things in small ways, trying to show you that I’m serious,” he said. “But I don’t think I’ve been honest enough with you. I don’t think I’ve let you see how much this has been tearing me apart.”

His hands tightened into fists on the table, his knuckles white. “I don’t want to overwhelm you or push you, but I can’t hold this back anymore. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be the man you deserve.”

His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw tears in his eyes. “If there’s anything—anything—I can do to earn your trust again, tell me. Because losing you would be the biggest mistake of my life.”

Your own eyes burned with tears, the raw honesty in his words cutting through the walls you’d built around your heart. For the first time, you saw not just the man who’d hurt you but the man who was willing to fight for you, flaws and all.

You didn’t have an answer for him—not yet. But as you reached across the table and took his hand, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start finding one.

***

You were closing up the coffee shop when your phone buzzed. The message was from Natasha. That alone was unusual—Nat rarely texted without reason. You pulled your phone out, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb.

The words on the screen made your blood run cold: We’ve lost contact with Steve and Bucky.

Your breath caught, and the phone nearly slipped from your trembling hands. For a moment, everything around you blurred—the soft hum of the espresso machine, the faint chatter of pedestrians outside, the smell of coffee beans—all of it faded into the background.

You didn’t think, didn’t even register dropping the rag you’d been using to clean the counter. Your hands shook as you locked the doors, fumbling with the keys before rushing to your car.

The drive to the Tower was a haze, your chest tight with panic as Natasha’s words repeated in your mind. You knew Steve went on dangerous missions. It was part of who he was. But something about those words—lost contact—made this time feel different.

***

By the time you arrived at the Tower, your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might break through your ribcage. The elevator ride felt like an eternity, each floor passing with agonizing slowness. When the doors finally slid open, you practically ran into the common room, where Natasha and Sam were already waiting.

“What happened?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

Natasha turned toward you, her expression calm but her eyes betraying her concern. “They were on a mission. Everything was going according to plan, but then we lost contact about three hours ago. We’ve been trying to re-establish communication, but there’s been no response.”

Three hours. That might as well have been three days.

“What do you mean ‘lost contact’?” you pressed, your voice rising. “How does that even happen?”

“It could be anything,” Sam said, his tone soothing but cautious. “Jammed signals, a misstep in the mission. We don’t know yet.”

You stared at them, your breathing shallow, your mind racing with every worst-case scenario imaginable. “So they could be…”

“They’re not,” Natasha said firmly, cutting you off. Her voice was sharp, but there was a softness in her gaze. “Steve and Bucky have been in worse situations than this. They’ll find a way to get back to us.”

Sam nodded in agreement, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. “They’re two of the toughest guys I know,” he said. “If anyone can make it out of this, it’s them.”

You wanted to believe them, but the fear in your chest refused to let go. You sank into one of the chairs, your hands gripping the armrests so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

The minutes dragged by like hours, the silence in the room heavy and oppressive. Natasha and Sam tried to make conversation, to keep you distracted, but you barely registered their words. Your mind was too consumed by the thought of what could happen—of what might have already happened.

***

When Natasha’s phone finally buzzed, the sound cut through the quiet like a gunshot. She snatched it up, her sharp gaze scanning the screen. Relief flickered across her face as she read aloud:

“It’s from Steve. They’re on their way back, but a medic is necessary.”

Your heart seized, a mixture of relief and panic coursing through you. “Who’s hurt?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“He didn’t say,” Natasha replied, her lips pressing into a thin line.

You tried to steady your breathing, but the knot in your chest refused to loosen. You told yourself it didn’t matter who was hurt—they were alive, and they were coming back. But the not knowing gnawed at you, the fear for Steve settling deep in your bones.

No one told Steve you were here, and maybe that was for the best. But as you sat there, waiting for the jet to arrive, you realized just how fragile everything felt. The past few months flashed through your mind—all the moments of doubt, the anger, the hesitation—and for the first time, they seemed so small. In the grand scheme of things, you could have lost Steve today. That thought terrified you more than anything else.

***

The sound of the jet’s engines rumbling low overhead pulled you out of your thoughts. You stood with Natasha and Sam, your heart pounding as the aircraft touched down on the Tower’s private landing pad.

The ramp lowered slowly, and the first thing you saw was Steve, his arm slung around Bucky to help him walk. Bucky looked pale, his arm hanging limp at his side, his face tight with pain. Medics rushed forward to meet him, but your eyes were locked on Steve.

He didn’t look much better than Bucky. His shirt was torn, streaked with dirt and blood, and his face bore a fresh collection of cuts and bruises. His shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion, his steps slow and measured.

But when his eyes found yours, he smiled.

Even battered and bloodied, he’d never looked more handsome. His beard, grown in over the time he’d been away, gave him a rugged edge, and his blue eyes still held that quiet strength you’d always admired.

The moment your gaze met his, something in you broke. You ran to him, barely aware of your surroundings, and threw your arms around him.

“Steve,” you sobbed, burying your face in his chest. His shirt was rough against your skin, damp with sweat and blood, but you didn’t care. “I was so scared. I thought… I thought I might lose you.”

His arms wrapped around you tightly, his grip strong despite his obvious exhaustion. “I’m okay,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “I’m here.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “You have to be more careful,” you said, your voice trembling. “You can’t… you can’t do this to me, Steve.”

His expression softened, and he reached up to brush a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What happened?” you asked, your voice cracking. “What went wrong?”

To your surprise, Steve didn’t hesitate. He guided you to a quieter corner, his hand resting lightly on your back, and began to explain.

“The mission was supposed to be straightforward,” he said, his voice low but steady. “But things went sideways fast. There were more hostiles than we anticipated, and Bucky got hit—bad. I couldn’t leave him behind, so I…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

“You carried him out,” you finished, your throat tightening.

Steve nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “I wasn’t going to leave him, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from fear. They were from the overwhelming realization of who Steve truly was—the man who would sacrifice everything for the people he cared about.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice softer now. “I won’t make that mistake again. And if you’re willing to listen, I’ll tell you everything—about the missions, about what’s going on with me. No more shutting you out.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mixture of love and fear and hope. Slowly, you nodded. “I’m listening,” you said.

And as he began to speak, you felt the cracks in your heart begin to mend, one word at a time.

***

Steve stayed with you after the medics whisked Bucky away to the infirmary. He’d insisted Bucky was in good hands, though you could see the guilt still lingering in his eyes. You sat together in one of the quieter rooms in the Tower, the tension from the mission still clinging to him like a second skin.

Despite his exhaustion, he refused to let go of your hand.

“You don’t have to stay,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you sat beside him. “I know it’s late.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

He gave you a small, tired smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re too good to me.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “No, Steve. I’m just—” You paused, searching for the right words. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging as the adrenaline that had sustained him through the mission began to fade. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“For everything,” he replied, meeting your gaze with a vulnerability that left you breathless. “For scaring you, for shutting you out before… for making you feel like you weren’t enough. I know I’ve said it before, but I need you to know I mean it.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. For a long moment, you didn’t respond, your chest tight as you tried to process the enormity of what he was saying.

“I was so scared today,” you admitted finally, your voice trembling. “When Nat texted me, when we didn’t know if you were okay… it was like the ground had been ripped out from under me.” You swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “I realized then how stupid these past few months have been. I was so caught up in my own hurt, my own doubts, that I didn’t see what we were losing.”

Steve’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You weren’t wrong to feel that way,” he said softly. “You had every right to be hurt, to doubt me. I earned that. But I don’t want to lose you, baby. Not now. Not ever.”

His words broke something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that again,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice steady and resolute.

***

The days following the mission passed in a haze of quiet moments and tentative steps forward. Steve stayed at the Tower to help Bucky recover, but he checked in with you constantly. Sometimes it was a quick text—How are you? Did you eat today?—and sometimes it was a phone call that lasted longer than either of you expected.

You visited the Tower often, bringing Bucky some of his favorite snacks and sitting with him while Steve caught up on reports. Bucky teased you relentlessly, of course, his dry humor cutting through the tension in ways only he could manage.

“So,” he said one afternoon, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “When are you two going to stop tiptoeing around and just admit you’re back together?”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “We’re not—”

“Sure,” Bucky interrupted, smirking. “And I’m the King of Wakanda.”

Steve, who had just entered the room, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, glaring at Bucky.

“Just pointing out the obvious,” Bucky said with a shrug, earning himself an eye-roll from both you and Steve.

Despite his teasing, Bucky’s words stayed with you. He wasn’t entirely wrong. The way you and Steve interacted had changed since the mission. There was a closeness now, a sense of trust that hadn’t been there before.

***

One evening, Steve invited you to dinner at the Tower. He didn’t call it a date, and you didn’t press him on it, but there was something deliberate about the way he’d set the table, the candles he’d lit, the care he’d taken with every detail.

The two of you sat across from each other, the soft glow of the candles casting warm light over his face. For a while, you just talked—about work, about Bucky’s recovery, about the books you’d been reading. The conversation flowed easily, the tension that had once lingered between you finally gone.

At one point, Steve leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said,” he began, his voice steady but quiet. “About how scared you were. How I need to be more careful.”

You frowned slightly. “Steve, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I know your work is dangerous. I’ve always known that.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “But you were right. I can’t keep doing this—not without being honest with you about what’s going on. If I’m asking you to be part of my life, I need to make sure you feel like you’re part of it.”

His words sent a warmth through your chest, a feeling of being truly seen and valued. “I appreciate that,” you said softly.

Steve smiled, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like everything between you was falling into place.

***

As the night wore on, the conversation grew quieter, more intimate. Steve reached across the table, his hand brushing yours.

“I know we can’t go back to how things were before,” he said, his voice low but firm. “But I think we can build something better. Something stronger. If you’ll let me.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt. Just quiet determination and a love that felt as steady and unshakable as the man himself.

“I want that too,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smile widened, and for the first time in months, you felt the weight in your chest begin to lift.

It wasn’t a perfect ending. There were still things to work through, still scars to heal. But as Steve reached for your hand, his grip warm and sure, you knew you were ready to take the next step—together.

[thoughtfulfiction]

Social Media QB

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

The reputation of the Chargers social media team was unmatched. They are known for being funny and up to date on all memes and pop culture references while also showcasing players’ personalities. That alone made you apply and this past year on the job had really been a once in a lifetime experience. Working with Megan and the crew was a daily adventure and you were becoming more and more comfortable calling the guys your friends. It even got to a point where you didn’t even call them by their names anymore.

Quentin was usually just “Q.” JK was always “J’Kaylin”, Derwin was “3” and your favorite nickname was definitely calling Justin “Sunshine.” At first it was a Remember the Titans reference but it became a lifestyle. Everything and everyone revolves around the sun and that’s exactly what it felt like when you were at work. All of the players were important and special but you could just feel the energy in the room shift when Justin was there. It was palpable, it almost took your breath away sometimes.

Off camera he was goofy, funny and had this uncanny ability to make the world stand still for a bit, even just for a few fleeting moments where it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. But then reality would hit and you were reminded that you work for the team and he’d never see you in that way, he was just nice to everyone he encountered. But on camera? It was all fun and games. There was a running joke, mostly based on his real feelings, that Justin hated cameras. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention or having people perceive him so he avoided the social media team altogether when phones were pointed in his direction. 

But sometimes, a rarity, you were able to get him on camera, even if it was just for a split second. The two of you reviewed the questions he was going to be asked before their Hot Ones appearance and there was ALWAYS a discussion, more like subtle begging if you all were going to have him participate in any content.

“We need Justin for this new segment we’re doing, so you’re gonna have to talk to him.” Megan sighs, grabbing her Stanley cup that was sitting on the counter. She’d just finished editing a video where she and her assistant put fart spray on the tiny mic and could still smell the rancid scent until she grabbed some Lysol spray to de-funk the place.

You were going through photos taken during practice earlier that morning and deciding which ones to post and without looking up you asked her, “why do I have to do it?”

Lorren and Allie giggle in the corner, shaking their heads. “You cannot be serious right now y/n,” Lorren gives you a pointed look.

“What?”

“We all know you and Justin have a thing for each other. Even if you won’t admit to us…or yourself. It’s pretty obvious.”

You finally raise your head up from your laptop, staring at them while also wracking your brain trying to figure out when your innocent crush had become so painfully obvious. If the girls knew, then Justin had probably somehow caught on and the thought of that made you want to dig a hole right outside on the practice field and never come out. “Is—am I that easy to read?”

“No one blames you,” Megan runs a loving hand on your shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ve been trying so hard to hide your feelings that you haven’t noticed that he’s doing an even worse job of hiding his massive crush on you.”

The look on your face sends the room into a fit of laughter. “We’re being serious. The way he looks at you and acts around you. Anyone can see he’s into you friend.”

You weren’t convinced, “I need an example.”

“Okay fine,” Lorren stands up to prepare a demonstration. “He wasn’t ready to put the mics on when he was mic’d up until you walked over and helped him get the mic in the perfect spot in his pads. And then he wore the friendship bracelet for six weeks because you handed it to him.”

Allie pipes up to put in her two cents. “And let’s not forget when he had you driving him around the golf tournament and kicked Zion to the curb. There’s no way all of those are just a coincidence.”

“Fine. I’ll go ask him if he’ll shoot the video for us but I’m not going to lose my job because of a meaningless crush on the starting quarterback.”

You waited around for the guys to leave treatment after practice and caught up with him on his way out. “Hey Sunshine, quick question for you.”

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he gives you a small tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“I need you to do me a huge favor and be in this tik tok. It’s a short game and it’ll only take like 15 minutes.”

His deadpan face and disappointed dad sigh has you practically begging, saying “please” in your finest sing-song tone.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You knew he’d crack, he always did. “On one condition. You also have to participate.”

You hold your hand out and he engulfs it with his much larger one. “You’ve got yourself a deal Herbert.”

“Okay the rules of the game are simple,” Megan begins from behind her phone screen before hitting record, “we’re going to give you these Canadian snacks and you’ll rate them on a scale from 1 to 10. One being it’s awful I’ll never touch that again and 10 being a solid snack that you’d eat everyday if given the opportunity.”

You and Justin nod, diving in on everything from the ketchup chips to the toffee. The video didn’t take long as promised and the quarterback went about the rest of his day with no further distractions.

In your office a few days later on the team’s off day, you were contemplating your life. Maybe you should take a step back from him so people don't get the wrong idea. Sure, your coworkers were convinced the crush was mutual but what if he was just being nice? He was always so focused on football and making the most out of every opportunity. Why in the world would he waste time flirting with a social media manager? It just made no sense. Instead of continuing to run a million imaginary scenarios in your mind you packed up your stuff and tried heading out to the parking lot. Even after all this time you still struggled to maneuver all the twists and turns of the building and somehow found yourself walking past the quarterback room. You intended to just keep walking but he was in there alone and called out your name when he saw you.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone would be in the building today.” His bright eyes staring down at you made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest. You desperately needed to get it together.

“I came in to finish up a few things but I’m heading out now. What are you doing? I think you’ve watched enough film to last you a couple lifetimes.” That gets a light chuckle out of him and he shakes his head, the two of you knowing that his quest for perfection would never allow him to believe he’s watched enough film. “Thank you for shooting that video the other day. The fans are gonna love it, they’re always begging us to get you on camera.”

“No problem, anything for you.” He clears his throat after whispering the last part, desperately hoping that you didn’t hear it. Even though you definitely did. You should go home for the day and leave him alone in the office so he can get back to work. You should stop staring at his lips that look so soft and just begging to be kissed. He should turn around and get back to the playbook and the computer but here he is, standing still, right in front of you.

You’re just there, waiting for someone to rip the carpet out from under you, to fall on your face, for someone to tell you that this isn’t actually happening. The space between your bodies diminishes significantly, so much so that you can smell the Dr. Squatch Birchwood Breeze radiating off of him. It’s intoxicating and you swallow the fear in your gut and ignore all of the common sense thoughts plaguing your mind, allowing you to feel.

The kiss is tentative at first, he pulls back slightly, whispering if it’s okay to keep going as you feel his breath against your lips. You don’t respond but instead pull him in closer, hearing a satisfied husky moan from him as he allows your tongue access to his. His right palm rests against your cheek until he’s tilting your head up ever so slightly to deepen the embrace and he pulls you in even closer, holding on for dear life while closing and locking the door behind you. It was so much more than he imagined, these feelings that he’d been pushing aside were being confronted and magnified by the second. This innocent crush that you had on him were genuine, real feelings that created a deep ache in your bones, actively being soothed with his hands all over you as the two of you made out like helpless teenagers.

You didn’t think you’d have the strength to tear yourself away from him…until his phone rings. He ignores it the first time but it’s all you can think about by the fifth ring.

“Answer it,” you whisper breathlessly and you can feel him hesitating to pry himself away from you. The heat that was radiating off of his body that you felt being so close to him sends shivers down your spine at the sudden distance. A thousand unspoken apologies are painted on his face as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He keeps the call short and sweet but the look of devastation is clear when he hangs up. “You have to go don’t you?”

He nods. “I’m so sorry. We can—we need to talk about this I know. And I promise we will. I just—I need to take care of this.” He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. Even if he knows you understand. Justin presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers another “I’m sorry” leaving you in the room to think about what just happened.

You walk around the empty parking lot until you reach your car, letting out a deep sigh at the thought of what the conversation with him is going to look like after this. You need to be mentally prepared for good news, bad news and everything in between.

He is the sun after all. And sometimes when you stand too close, you might get burned. And maybe, just maybe, you’d avoid the burn altogether and bask in the warmth as long as you can.

[lovelygirlwithablog]

୨ ⎯ headcanons . nicolas alexander chavez x f!reader

━ slow and teasing

He's the KING of teasing you with kisses. He'd start off slow, his lips barely brushing yours, just to make you lose it. You'd lean in for more, but he'd pull back slightly with that cocky little smirk, whispering, "Patience, baby. I'll give you what you want... eventually."

━ messing with u

When he's in the mood to mess with you, he'd kiss you once, softly, then trail his lips down your jawline and stop just short of where you really want him to go. And when you let out that frustrated sigh, he'd chuckle and be like, "Oh, I love how needy you get for me." 😵‍💫

━ spicy and possessive pet names

"Mine" - Oh, girl. This one would come out when he's feeling possessive. Like, if someone else flirts with you, he'd pull you close and whisper in your ear, "Don't forget, baby-you're mine." Chills.

"Darling" - He'd say this in that slow, deep tone when he's in full heartthrob mode. Like, "What do you need, darling? Tell me, and it's yours." Literal heart palpitations.

━ flirty pet names

"Baby" - Classic but effective. He'd say it in that low, teasing tone, especially when he's being playful or spicy. Like, "C'mon, baby, you know you want me to kiss you." Instant chills.

"Love" - When he's feeling all intense and romantic, this is his go-to. He'd probably whisper it against your lips mid-kiss, like, "You drive me crazy, love." Ugh, please.

"Beautiful" - He'd drop this one out of nowhere just to watch you blush. Like, you'd be getting ready or just sitting there, and he'd be like, "How did I get so lucky with someone so beautiful?" Byeee, my heart.

"Angel" - He'd use this one when he's feeling protective or extra soft. Like, if you're upset, he'd wrap you in his arms and whisper, "Don't worry, angel, I've got you." Melting!!

━ flirty energy on set

Nicholas would absolutely love teasing you if you visited him while he was working. He'd be all professional one minute, delivering his lines perfectly, and the next, he'd be flashing you that sly smile in between takes, knowing it's driving you crazy.

━ you're his safe haven

After a long day of filming, the first thing he'd do is find you. He'd wrap his arms around you in the coziest hug, burying his face in your neck while mumbling, "You're the best part of my day." He'd totally sneak little forehead kisses when he thought no one was looking, just to recharge and feel close to you.

━ validation

After a big scene, he’d run over and ask, “How did I do?" And when you tell him how amazing he was, he’d get all blushy and say, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

━ spicyyy

If the two of you were alone in his trailer? Whew. Nicholas would lean against the door with that cocky smirk, pulling you closer by your waist like, "We've got a few minutes before they need me... want to make it worth it?"

━ he'd hate seeing you upset

The second he realizes you're mad, he'd get all serious and be like, "Wait, are you actually mad at me? Baby, talk to me." And you'd be trying to ignore him, but he'd literally NOT stop following you around until you told him what's wrong. He'd have this sad puppy-dog face the whole time, which makes it SO hard to stay mad. Like, Nicholas, let me be angry for a second!!!

━ he'd blame himself

Nicholas would probably start feeling like he's the one ruining things. He'd get all quiet for a second and then look at you with teary eyes, saying, "Is this my fault? Am I not enough for you?" Hearing him say that would absolutely wreck you because you'd know he's always trying SO hard to make you happy.

━ cuddles

If you were busy or taking too long to cuddle him, he’d literally flop down on the couch like a toddler and be like, “Why don’t you love me anymore?” in the most over-the-top voice ever.

━ attention

If you even looked at your phone or got distracted, he’d nudge you with his nose and say, “Hello? What’s more important than me right now?” He’d fake being all hurt and be like, “Guess I’m just not your favorite person anymore.” But the second you kissed him or ran your fingers through his hair, he’d get all soft and mumble, “That’s better. You’re my favorite person, too.”

━ back hugs

Imagine you're busy doing something, like washing dishes or typing on your laptop, and out of nowhere, Nicholas wraps his arms around you from behind. He'd rest his chin on your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss on your neck.

a/n: guys thank you so so so much for the notes on my last post! here are some new headcanons 'cuz this man is killing me 😫 let me know in the inbox if you want headcanons for other actors/characters!!

[yourstrulysylus]

Midnight kitchen

The foyer of his house smelled appetizing the familiar sounds of frying pans and the soup boiling made his mouth water after a long day of business affairs he clearly anticipated of what’s being made. Sylus sees her standing in the kitchen eyes completely focused as she chops some green onions using her favorite wooden chopping board he secretly smiled to himself as it gave him pleasure that she uses one of his gifts.

One of the favorite things about this pretty little chef of his is that she cleans as she goes he appreciated the fact that the area she worked at not a mess was in sight and the sink was almost dish-free. He adored the way she was organized without burning a single meal and how she’s meticulously careful with sharp objects.

He made his presence known by clearing his throat as she was now stirring the pot on the stove.

She looked up at his gaze and welcomed him with a smile. His heart swelled at the sight before him he closed the distance between them, standing by her side. He leaned against the counter watching her work the aroma of the food getting stronger.

“So what are we having for tonight?” he asked

“I’m making you a traditional korean dish called kimchi jjigae and dakgangjeong for dinner,” she responded with a smile “here taste this.”

He took a spoonful of the dish savoring the flavors across his palate the spicy and fermented kimchi added a rich and flavorful kick while the soft yet pungent kimchi provided a comforting warmth - back then his former chefs would prepare Sylus a medium rare steak, a veal or an italian pasta with meatballs on it to add some red meat for his diet however this one tasted like home.

“Mmm… this is delicious in fact let me try some more.” She gave him another clean spoon she liked the fact that he came back for seconds.

“I’m starving shall we go eat?” He usually doesn’t ask his chefs to accompany him for dinner and it’s the first time he saw she was holding back. “Oh, well it’s almost done sir I’ll serve it once you settle at the table.” Given her professional response he nodded but wasn’t satisfied with her answer.

He went to the dining area where he sees the table completely set for one. He frowned a little as if it’s almost reminding him how alone he was. Candle lights, table napkins, clean utensils and a clean plate all waiting for him. He went back to the kitchen immediately realizing that he should be with her eating beside him instead. He sat down at the kitchen island where she promptly prepared basic place mats.

He smiled at her once again giving her the impression that this is where he decided to dine she quickly understood as if they were of one mind. He watches as she sets the food down on the counter the bowl of kimchi jjigae and the plate of dakgangjeong looked tempting.

“Looks good, chef.” She nodded pleased with his approval.

“Dig in.”

He didn’t need to be told twice he began taking a spoonful of the kimchi jjigae first the flavors were just as delicious as the first couple of bites the spice was well balanced out with other seasonings providing the dish with a perfect symphony of taste.

“This is really good,” he said as he took a small bite of the dakgangjeong appreciating the flavor from the crispy chicken coated with sweet and tangy sauce. “You have really outdone yourself with this one.”

She giggled at his compliment, never before in his entire life felt his heart warmed more in that blissful moment.

“You really enjoy cooking don’t you?” He asked still eating

“I do.”

He nodded appreciating her passion. “It shows in your work,” he complimented. “You put so much effort into the dishes you make its impressive.”

“Thank you, Sylus.” a light blush appeared in her cheeks

Bingo.

“Why don’t you join me? There’s more than enough for one person.” He watched her take off her apron and folded it placing it neatly on the counter his gaze softened as she made her way to his side silently grateful that she didn’t fight it anymore she ate right beside him taking a comfortable silence.

He felt like this is their new beginning and when the time comes that she would let him court her he’d be more than happy to settle down in a heartbeat.

collaborated with @kindalonely-ngl 🫶🏻

[valeskalikespickles]

SEX POLLEN

request by anon

word count: 941

summary: Eddie and reader were locked in a room with a scientist who died from a major heart attack. When reader knocks over a jar of sex pollen she and Eddie can't hold back anymore.

DISCLAIMER: I don't usually write smut.. so i'm terribly sorry if this is bad. I did enjoy writing this though, it was a fun experiment. Whoever requested it thank you!

Gender: FEMALE

Eddie Diaz X fem! reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

So being locked in a room with Eddie after being exposed to sex pollen was not on my 2024 bingo card. 

We were helping this scientist who had a major heart attack, I turned around too fast and knocked over a small jar. Eddie yelled at me but how the hell was I supposed to know it would just make us horny as shit? The victim died, we were doing cpr for about 25 minutes and Eddie ripped me off of the guy after saying he was gone. I never do well when we lose someone. Kind of makes me feel like I failed at my job. When I tried to kick out of his arms, that's when I knocked the jar over. We went to leave and found that it was completely locked down. Dude had like 6 million different security measures and the team was working to get them down. We put him under a sheet and slid him into a different room so we wouldn't have to stare at a dead body for God knows how long.

About twenty minutes after I knocked it over I rolled my head back, I could definitely feel the effects. I was trying not to pay attention to it, the burning sensation in my core but to be honest it was getting harder and harder. My cunt had never been this soaked, looking over and seeing Eddie with his head thrown back as he also tried to fight it didn’t help. My hand reached down, slipping into my pants and into my panties.. Slowly working around my clit. Eddie was staring now, looking at me with a look I’d never seen on his face before. “May I?” He made his way over to me and I nodded, he slid his hand into my pants and let out a quiet groan. 

“Shit you’re so wet.” He whispered, I reached over and palmed at his bulge. “What if they find us too soon?” I moaned out quietly as he stuck a finger into me as I jolted backwards. “I don’t even care.” He whispered, kissing my neck slowly. 

“You- You're supposed to be mad at me for this.” I stammered, hands finding their way into his dark hair. He shook his head against the crook of my neck. “I can’t be mad when the only thing I’m thinking about is fucking you senseless.” 

He removed his hand and I let out a small whine. “Hold on, sweetheart. I’m just getting you more comfortable.” He slid my pants off along with my panties. He grabbed me by the waist, picking me up from the ground and sitting me on the counter, positioning himself in between my legs and throwing each one of my legs over his shoulders. He slowly licked the slick off of my cunt, looking up at me as he did so. 

“Look at me, amor..” He whispered, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver down my spine. I looked down at him, I swear I could’ve came right fucking there. His eyes were brown but they were always the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen. 

He held eye contact with me, licking and sucking at my clit. I closed my eyes for a moment and he stopped, “Fuck.” I whispered, looking back down at him. “Keep looking at me, I wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum.” He spoke softly, his voice rugged. I nodded weakly, looking into his eyes as he continued to suck on my clit. He slid his tongue into me and I yelped, “E-eddie.” I whispered, grinding against his face. Before I knew it I was sweating and I was pushed to my max. My back arched and my mouth flew open, a loud moan leaving my mouth as he continued to tongue fuck me while I rode out my high. I pushed his head back with a shaky breath. He looked up at me, his mustache soaked with my slick.

He stood up and immediately started kissing me, making me taste me on his mouth. I moaned against him as he slid his belt off with ease, he took his cock out and pumped it a few times. “What do you need?” I whispered, taking his cock in my hand. “Your mouth or to be inside of you.. I don’t even care.” I could’ve sworn he whimpered a little bit. “How about both?” I lowered down to my knees, “Just this first because I need to taste you.” I licked the head of his cock, his head lolling back and I stopped. 

“If I had to look at you, you have to look at me.” I licked at the large vein in his dick, him whimpering again and nodding as he maintained eye contact with me. His eyes were enough to make a girl weak in the knees.. If I wasn’t already. I took as much as I could of him into my mouth as possible, bobbing my head as his large hand entangled into my hair. 

At some point, he was a moaning mess, “I’m gonna cum.. Please.” 

I gave him a look of ‘do it’ and he did, his cum shooting into my throat in warm ropes. He decided he wanted to fuck the shit out of my on the counter, which I let him do but shit he was so pretty when he came. 

Eventually we finished and got dressed, I walked over to him and kissed him slowly. “We should do that again sometime.” I laughed and he rolled his eyes. “Let me take you out on a date first.”

[fictionalmenxyn]

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬

Pairing: frat!rafe x sorority!reader

Warnings: SMUT, language, fingering, p in v, no mentions of protection (wrap it!), breeding, self pleasure (Rafe)

꥟꥟꥟

You had come over to hang out with Rafe. You both haven’t seen each other since yesterday since college was busy for you both. Rafe needed his daily dose of you, so he spammed texted you to sleepover.

So here you were, lying in his bed. Wearing just his old football jersey and a pair of Calvin Kline underwear. You laid in his bed watching tv. Rafe was playing cod with the guys. His headset on but one ear off just in case you wanted to chat or needed anything. He sat in his gaming chair at his desk. His eyes glued to the monitor, but occasionally glanced over to you.

You watched the tv on his wall, enjoying the company and finding it funny how the boys talk in chat.

You felt drowsy, your eyelids felt heavier each blink. You moved your head into the pillow more, turning over to lay on your stomach as you went to sleep.

Rafe glanced over to you as he heard you shift around in bed. His eyes raked over you. Seeing the jersey had rode up resting on your kid back. Showing off one of his favourite things about you, your ass. He could stare at it all day if he could. His hands on it most of the time. But it was the fact that you laid in his bed. Tangled up in the covers, wearing his jersey. Looking peaceful and relaxed, that made him hard in his sweatpants.

He groaned as he looked down at his sweats, seeing the newly formed tent. He didn’t bother putting on boxers as he had only just got out of the shower and just wanted to throw something on. Besides he does it most of the time when he lounges around.

He turned his attention back to the game. Trying to calm down the hard on in his sweats. But he can’t help but look over to you every so often. He couldn’t do anything about it yet. You were asleep. And he wasn’t the type to do such things without you knowing. He knew better.

He moved his right hand over his bulge. His controller in his left hand. The guys and himself were in the lobby of the game. Some of the guys either going to the bathroom or getting snacks. He quickly muted himself.

Moving his hand into his boxers, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Stroking the long length of his as he thought about you sat on top of him on his gaming chair. Like you have many times.

He just couldn’t budge it. Not even his hand was helping anymore. He had enough. He was going to climb into bed and sleep it off. He quickly made an excuse for him to end the game with the guys. He logged off and turned his ps5 off.

He climbed into bed beside you. Pulling you close to him. Letting out a long sigh, he closed his eyes and tried to relax.

He soon fell asleep. Then to be only woken up at two in the morning. He groaned to himself when he felt his hips subconsciously grid against your side.

He was tried, so were you. But he had to get rid of it. And he’d know you’d most def would help him.

He brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. Then whispering in his deep husky tired voice “baby… need you to wake up f’me…”

You turned over, rubbing your eye “hm?”

He grinned softly “c’mon… I need some help… you looked so good in my jersey earlier… I couldn’t shift it…” he pressed his hard on against your hip to show you.

You resting your forehead against his lips “but ‘m tired, Rafey…” “I know, I know, could you just stay awake? I’ll do all the work… just relaxed and help me out, yeah?” God his voice did things to you no one could ever explain. His raspy along with the deep mess of the accent and his overall tone. Sent shivers down your spine.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your lips, then your neck. Gently turning you over and lifting your right thigh up more. He moved his hand along your side and down to your entrance.

His palm against you, already feeling your underwear to be damp. He smirked lazily “that’s my girl…” he moved his hand in slow, lazy circles.

You moaned softly, he pulled your underwear to the side. Moving his middle finger inside of you. He lazily pushed it in and out. Curling his finger every other time. You pushed your ass back into his hard on. Causing him to groan and rock his hips into you.

He slipped his ring finger into you next. Prepping you for him. Causing you to tiredly rock your hips against his hand.

He pulled his fingers away and move his hand into his sweats. He then tugged his sweats down just enough to let his cock out. He was hung. No doubt about it. All the girls in college would die to get what you got most nights. But you took it all the way each time. Nothing like the girls he had in the past. Nothing compares to you.

He ran his tip along your slit, gently pushing it inside. Causing you to moan softly. He went in, inch by inch.

He moved his hand to your jaw. Holding it and turn your head enough so he could kiss you. As he would lazily and slowly thrust in and out of you.

You liked this side of him. Most of the time you both were rough or loud. This was quiet and relaxing for a change.

He bit your bottom lip gently as he pulls away a little. He looked into your eyes with pure lust. His lips brushing against yours as he mumbled “so fucking tight f’me… best fucking pussy, all mine, baby, yeah? All mine…love it so much” you moaned softly. Looking into his eyes with tiredness and attraction. God the look you’re giving him right now drove him insane.

He kept moving his large length in you. He moved a little so he was on top of you more. Getting a better angle and also going deeper in you. Causing you to moan a little louder. He moved his left hand next to your head in the bed, stabilising himself. As his right went under the jersey and over your breast. Massaging your breast as he rest his forehead on the side of your head. He breathing heavy and ragged.

He felt you tighten around him, causing him to groan lowly “fuuuccckk…”

He picked up his pace, you were about to moan when he shoved his hand over your mouth gently. He whispered “gotta stay quiet, baby, I don’t want the guys hearing how good I make you feel… don’t wanna wake em up now, yeah?” You nodded.

As you feel your climax approaching, Rafe smirked. Knowing your body inside and out. He knew you were close. He picked up his pace more. The room filled with heavy breathing and cheek smacking.

Your jaw slackens as you tighten around him and finish. He groans “thaaatss it, come all over my cock, yeah? Mhm fuck, so hot…”

He moved his mouth to your ear “want me to come in ya? Want it, baby? I know you do, tell me, do you?” You nodded “yes, Rafey, want you too… so bad, please…” he smirked.

Feeling himself finishing in you was amazing. Knowing it was him that made you feel this good and him being the one to finish in you, was a dream to him.

He stayed there for a moment. Giving you a ‘thank you’ kiss. He mumbled against your cheek “thank you for helping, babe… did so good f’me… I’ll treat you in the morning, you don’t have class till the afternoon… I’ll eat you out all morning, hm? Wanna do it so bad, been craving you…”

You nodded eagerly, one of your favourite things he does was just that.

He gently pulled out, watching his seed go down your thigh. He grabbed some tissues on the side of his bed and wiped it. Knowing you’d probably not want to sleep with it all over you.

Tossing the tissue into the trash can. He laid back beside you. Pulling on his sweats again. And wrapping his arms around your waist. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fall back asleep.

And best believe he kept his word for the next morning.

꥟꥟꥟

[insert-something-funy-here]

PHIGHT OR PHLIGHT

This is part 2!! Part three is in the works!!

Part 1 || Part 3

I hope yall know it makes me so happy to know people are interested in this HEHEHEGRHEJHEGEHRGR,,,,

Anyway, enjoy!!!

What a wholesome moment.

A ship kept safe by its anchor, the ocean nourished by the sand it wears at. But there’s a storm rolling in, one that will force its light upon this resonant scene. 

Steps echo in the alley, a slow clap accompanied by thunderous laughter. 

“Wonderful job my beautiful creation! I expected nothing less of you!” Shocked expressions made they way to Medkit’s and Biograft’s faces upon hearing Subspace’s voice. 

Anxiety greets them both in Subspace's presence, for one it's an old friend, and the other, it's something entirely new. "What? Did you really think I didn't know know this would happen?" He sighs, good thing this experiment has served it's purpose. "You've changed from how I designed you, and look at how you've been dulled."

"I knew Meddy would never let me close to him outside of a phight, but then you presented me a new experiment to run! As tough as he may act, I know he feels some guilt. Enough to see you at least." Even with his mask and eyepatch, it was easy to see Subspace’s smile. Finally, after spending so long trying find Medkit, he would get his chance at vengence. "Come now my dear creation, help me finish this, and we'll-"

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?" Some defiance was to be expected with this. Allowing this variable to grow within him. But he's being led astray, and I have a parently duty to pull him back. "I was fine with a little disobedience, it served a purpose, but it seems you've strayed too far from my brilliance." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a remote. He sighs, "It's alright though, because unlike that man there, I can fix you!"

That remote. One of the emergency shut downs for Biografts. This one specifically was made for gen## Zeta Biografts. In Subspaces mind, Blackrock could handle the hit in security for a bit. Anyone who's worth something has a personal Biograft not connected to any of the servers one of those remotes would shut down anyway. And with one press, Biograft fell apart, "Well, isn't this familiar?" His laughter brought back memories, and it was sickening. Medkit felt himself back in that SFoTH forsaken lab, back against the wall, a deer in the headlights.

Though Biograft had fallen apart, there was a few seconds before his software finished shutting down. In these precious moments he saw a version of himself standing before him.

"Leave."

"If I do that we'll be back where we started."

"We're not the same anymore. You've changed your directive. Follow it before he makes you like us again."

A slight pause. "You're not yourself either."

"I'm surprised your body is still holding up." A desperate attempt at keeping composure.

"You didn't do that much to me!!" Evidence of how he's failing. "Him on the other hand," He looks at the fallen Biograft and back up Medkit. He steps forward, using mist walk, he clears the distance before Medkit could react. Biograft was supposed to be here to help, but perhaps Medkit watching his last chance at some sort of temporary catharsis die will put him at enough of a disadvantage.

Grabbing him by his tie Subspace shoves him into the wall, "Brings back memories doesn't it? Don't worry, you won't have to remember for much longer!" His other hand hovering dangerously close to Medkit’s last eye. Subspace's freezes for a moment, feeling Medkit’s revolver against his chest, and begins laughing. "What do you think you're going to accomplish with that, hmm? You use that to heal people remember? It's the only reason you keep it after all-"

"What do you know?" His grip tightened, "These bullets can end lives as quick just as they can save them."

"Oh please," Subspace moves his freehand to grip Medkit’s gun, "If you had the strength for that," he pulls it closer, "you would've shot me already."

In flash of teal light, Subspace is on the ground and Medkit has been freed. A familiar alarm blares in both their ears. Subspace sits back up and stares in shock, but before he can call out to the newly reformed Biograft, he's already left with Medkit.

"My creation... my once beautiful invention... my son..." it doesn't take long for this Biograft’s absence to eat away at him.

Biograft runs as far as he can, Medkit in his arms. He makes wide jumps across rooftops, no real direction other than away. Away from Subspace, away from his 'siblings', away from Blackrock. He's overheating, he's going to collapse again.

"Go left here."

Which meant they needed somewhere safe to go, and to follow the quickest directions there. Medkit knew somewhere they could stop, the two of them just had to hope Biograft could make it that far.