#it is 7am i have not been to sleep yet

[symbieote]

I need to tell someone about the new OCS that I'm gestating right now or I WILL be physically ill...

[call-me-pup2]

I have to be up in four and a bit hours, yet here I am, posting silly pics 😶

[aerofbreath]

Actually writing something based off of this post. Y'all really seemed to like it and I got scared LOLOL

(How it will probably go (written poorly written cause it's almost 7AM and I haven't slept yet) . Also I have no idea what I'm doing. This will be rewritten better in a fic maybe.)

Jason sighed as he made his way into Gotham University's gym. It was the middle of the day and Jason was there at a Startup Event posing as a guy who was interested in what people had to offer. He had only had maybe a total of four hours of sleep since he had patrol the night before. Granted, this wouldn't have affected him as much if he was more mentally prepared to be awake. The only reason why he's out here was because Bruce had woken him up an hour ago to tell him a little last minute about what he needed to do today. Originally, the plan was to do absolutely nothing. But now he has to investigate a guy that Bruce had his eye on as of lately.

The person he's looking for is a man named Danny Nightingale. Apparently he's been in Gotham for a couple years and only recently started making a mess of things. How it went under Bruce's nose is beyond him considering how freaked out Bruce was once he did find out.

Apparently, the guy has been making life changing machines. Little mechanical bees have been flying around Gotham really just sucking up all the pollution in the air and just depositing it somewhere. According to the media, they go back to some headquarters and into a bee hive looking structure to deposit all the pollution and sludge. From the photos shown, it's actually pretty impressive. Some guy actually making a change around here.

For Bruce- no. For Batman, this is just highly suspicious. Why would some guy make these positive life changing machines? For the better? No. No genius with the power to change the world would do it for the better. There's got to be some ulterior motive behind it.

At least, that's what Batman thinks.

Jason thinks it's all interesting. Maybe there is an ulterior motive but even then, at a scale so large that it's literally affecting the city in a positive way? You've got to be literally more insane than the Joker if you wanted to plaster your face everywhere at an event like this. Everyone else at this event seemed to show promise but compared to Danny Nightingale's company? They're literally all small fry.

Surprisingly enough, however, no one else seems to be at Danny's booth. Not even Danny. Jason frowned as he approached the booth and just looked at the machines on them. The Bees are kind of just flying in place and the moment that Jason even looked at them, the Bees immediately got to work. They flew around him like a puppy with wings, nuzzling against him and bumping into him so dumbly. And honestly?

It was actually kind of cute. You would think that being on such little hours of sleep and being grumpy the whole morning would really affect the pits inside him but no. He's surprisingly calm.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! They don't usually act like this," a voice stuttered out. A man hastily walked towards Jason as he gently plucked the Bees out of the air and brought it close to him.

"Uh, don't worry about it. I thought it was kind of..." Jason trailed out before locking eyes with the man who spoke.

This was Danny Nightingale. He was much shorter than Jason, only standing tall at 5' 5". His hair was fully black with only a white money piece right on his bangs. And his eyes? An alluring blue with only a hint of green at the center of his eyes. Honestly, the sight of Danny just about took Jason's breath away.

There was a subtle glow to him, almost making Jason think of there being some sort of meta activity going on but looking around the people in the area, no one but him seems to notice. Danny was concerned about Jason, that much is obvious. The way his eyes burrowed in concern then into confusion. It's strange why just looking at him made Jason's heart skip a beat, even though in hindsight, Danny looks much worse off than Jason.

That man looks like he hasn't slept in 3 weeks. But even then he was...

"Cute..." Jason finally finished his sentence a little too late.

Danny blinked in confusion, tilting his head to the side. His bangs fall freely over his eyes. Just the sight of that almost made Jason blush. "My bees were cute?" Danny spoke, the tone of his voice (very tired) sounded like a sweet harmony in Jason's ears. "Oh! You're interested in Nightech? No one else seems to be interested in my stuff yet. I can tell you all about this company and how it works? I put in a lot of work and love into these little guys and I'm sure you would love them too!"

Blah blah blah. Proper name. Place name. Backstory stuff.

Nothing of what Danny is saying is registering in Jason's brain right now. Maybe some. ("I... Love... You...")

"I love you too!!" Jason blurted out.

Danny blinked before widening his eyes. "Wh-What...?" There was that look of concern again but now there's another look. Recognition...

Whatever. None of that right now. This is embarrassing!

"I-I said I love your company. Uh. Do you have a business card? I can let Bruce Wayne know about this."

Wordlessly, Danny gave an information card to Jason before that poor brick of a man just ran out of there, not once even looking back. Honestly, from the way it's playing out in Jason's head right now, he feels like a princess running away from her prince at the stroke of midnight. The earpiece crackled before a voice started to speak.

"Jason? What the hell was that?" Bruce's voice questioned.

It was only when Jason left the gymnasium that he answered, "Me digging my own grave for the second time, old man. Let me go die in peace."

"No, no," Dick's voice chimed in, "Only after we replay that very short conversation about 50,000 times. Thank you very much."

Jason only groaned in response.

Danny, back in the gymnasium, only stared at the door that Jason left from in horror. The only way for people to react that way to him like that is for them to be dead or liminal. Now he has to figure out a way to tell Bruce Wayne that this person that he seems to know is a little bit dead!

This actually is a part of whatever the fuck I'm writing. I'm still thinking of a fic name. But all of the random posts go together in some way.

[princesssascha]

Get all your desires within a week

Have you been having trouble manifesting? Are you sick and tired of waking up everyday in your current reality and it feels like you tried every single possible manifestation technique out there yet nothing seems to work? I have come up with a 7 day challenge for you.

How do I know this works?

The universe doesn't give you what you want, it gives you what you ARE. By doing this challenge you will be matching the frequency of your dr which will allow your cr to transform.

This is a very powerful technique. Please make sure you know exactly what you want.

So, here are some of the rules:

You identify your desired reality as your current reality

You do EVERYTHING you would do in your dr, even if uncomfortable (for example, if your desired self(ds) goes to the gym at 5am everyday that's exactly what you're gonna do. It's only a week.)

Your "Cr" is your past. It is not your reality, it's imagination. Your dr is your only "correct and real" reality. After all you're doing everything you would in your dr, so that makes it your current reality.

You do this for 7 days. No cheating!

Feel free to add your own rules for yourself!

Now for the process

1.Write down your goals

What does your desired reality actually look like? Think about it and write it down. Yes, WRITE it down. Don't just think about it. Whether you do it on your notes app or on a piece of paper, write down clear habits of your ds. Some examples:

Goes to sleep at _ and wakes up at _

Works out

Works on her business/skills

Etc. anything. It doesn't have to be something important. Anything you can think of that you desire.

2.Identify your blocks

Now it's time to be brutally honest with yourself. WHY do you think your desires aren't here yet? What is blocking you from receiving your manifestations. This is the part that most people fail at, which causes them to not get their desires. Releasing those blocks can be difficult, but without it you are literally blocking your manifestations. I suggest you really research this topic, but here are some of the most common ones:

You see your 3D as your REAL reality.

You keep stressing about getting your desire NOW.

You have a lack mindset.

You don't trust yourself.

You check your 3D for your results.

3.Find the difference

Now that you know what you want it's time to find the differences. Now it might seem obvious, but again, you need to write it down. Since you already have what your desired reality looks like, here's how I do it in the easiest way. You write down your desired reality on one side and compare your current reality to it on the other side. For example: (let's just act one is on the left side and one is on the right side).

Dr: Wake up at 7am.

Cr: Wake up at 10am.

This will make it easier to change your habits later.

4.Act like you're in your dr

Now that you know what your goal is and what the difference is you are going to switch. Your desired reality is your new reality. Your current reality does not exist. It's your past. You are now in your desired reality and you KNOW that. Do everything you would do in this reality. From waking up to going to sleep. The whole day. Does your ds wake up at 5am and goes to the gym? Good. That's exactly what you're gonna do because it's your current reality. You are your dream self and your dream self is you.

5.Ignore your reality.

Now it's time for you to decide that your current reality is just a mindset. And you need to switch that mindset. You want the best for yourself and you will get it. You just need to allow it, so, from now on your only right reality is the reality you created for yourself. All the outside noise doesn't change that, because it is your reality now.

Ok, when will I get my results?

Immediately. The moment you start doing this and actually believe and persist that's the moment it becomes your reality.

But when will I see it in my 3D?

Once you accept you really have it. You need to actually believe it, and when that happens, you won't be looking for your 3D to confirm that. That's exactly when it appears in your 3D. It can be the same day, same week, same month, same or next year. You decide when you trust the universe. This is just an exercise to help those who keep stressing about their 3D. And it works magic.

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (9) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: some smut. some angst. some fluff <3

🏷️ permanent taglist:

@joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

when you arrive home, zion is fast asleep in jungkook's arms.

you tiptoe towards them and kiss zion's forehead. he shifts a bit but jungkook automatically pats his bum. he's literally asleep, yet his daddy senses are on. you aren't sure why, but your heart tugs at the sight... that's okay, right? for you to feel some type of way when you see them asleep together in your bed?

jungkook and zion truly look so alike.

from their doe-eyes to jungkook's cheeks—even their freaking hair! you can't help it. whenever zion gets hair cuts, he looks like a little man. a mini jungkook... and who wouldn't want that? jungkook has and will always be the most handsome to you.

yet, zion acts exactly like you. it's like the biggest bite in the ass ever. his pickiness and sensitivity root from you. the way he compromises and admits defeat (rarely) are completely you. his sweetness is copied by you but his cheekiness is definitely from jungkook.

zion is the perfect mix.

sometimes your heart aches. sometimes your heart fills up with joy. sometimes it makes you second-guess everything. sometimes it gives you gentle clarity.

"where's my kiss?" jungkook murmurs, eyes still closed.

your lips curve into a tired smile.

"have you guys been sleeping in my bed for the past 2 nights?"

jungkook rubs his eyes, sitting up. he then pulls his arm away from underneath zion's head. "yeah. he wouldn't sleep on his bed and i couldn't sleep on the couch. sorry, did i overstep—"

"no," you interrupt him. "what's mine is yours. it's always been like that."

he nods.

"still waiting for my kiss..."

you roll your eyes but give in. jungkook purses his lips, waiting for yours. instead, you kiss his forehead and pinch his cheeks.

"can you put him back in his room? i've been sleep training him to be more independent... and i miss my bed. he usually climbs into bed with me by 7am anyway."

sleepily, he complies with your request.

as he leaves with zion in his arms, you grab your flimsy nightgown from your closet and go to shower. then, as you step into your bathroom, you think about your closet... it definitely was a mess when you left.. yet, everything is folded so nicely. did he organize it up for you?

huh.

as you turn the water on and step in, you can't help but wonder what will happen tonight. sure, the nightgown is an obvious tell to jungkook that you're down to fuck—but aside from that... you wonder what else he could say or do tonight that will have you tossing and turning.

truth be told, the 2 nights away that was filled with work was exhausting. like, so beyond tiring that you felt miserable. it was so weird to be indulged in work and not come home to your boys... not that jungkook has been home with you since the separation; but the thought of it... it just... it felt good.

for the first time in a while, you felt it.

the want to be together.

as in, the desire to be a family in one house... all together... all over again.

it shook you to your core.

but there was also a relief that overcame your mind. you've never been the type to fight peace anyway (which is also why you asked for a separation 8 months ago... because you didn't feel any back then).

perhaps the poets are right.

time changes things.

people change.

... and so does love.

jungkook has a fistful of your nightgown while you have a fistful of his hair.

his tongue has been nothing short of perfection against your clit. there isn't a single inch of your pussy he hasn't devoured. he does it so well too. what you said was true... him eating you out is never relaxing.

of course, jungkook knew how to tease the shit out of you. how to drag your orgasms and make you last as long as possible. if he felt mean, he'd do it until you cried from how much your pussy throbbed from the edging. god, he was so mean sometimes.

but tonight, he's so nice to you.

he flicks his tongue at all the right spots. you squirm and all he does is wrap his arms around your legs and tug you closer. moving your pelvis to the rhythm of his licks; you feel yourself tighten and the need to close your legs. so, you do so. you close your legs, burying his face deep into you.

jungkook loves it.

god, he fucking loves this.

he eats you out like there's no tomorrow. he slurps you up as if you're the freshest thing to drink. he spits in between his sucking (completely unnecessary. you're literally drenching your sheets already) because he knows you feel it. you feel the heat of his saliva and the way it drips down your folds. how nasty it must make you feel because you like it so much.

again, jungkook loves this.

"that's it, honey..." he praises you. "doing so good. so fucking pretty—y-you're just the prettiest, aren't you? you know that, right? the absolute prettiest."

"s-shut up!"

"come on! ... my little starfish," jungkook chuckles. "say you're mine and i'll let you cum tonight."

you attempt to shoot him a glare. "t-thought you're gonna b-be nice to me tonight..."

he shrugs, reaching up and brushing the sweaty strand of hair off your forehead. "i'm whatever you want me to be."

you don't answer him. instead, you moan and murmur; "fine.. fine. yours. i'm yours."

sigh.

he loves this.

he loves you.

there is literally no other way of putting it.

he loves every hair pull you accidentally jolt to doing. he loves the way you mumble his name in between hitched breaths. he loves the way you watch as his head bobs up and down, right and left, and right in the middle. he loves the way you react to his nose, gliding and causing your pussy to pulsate like crazy. he loves the way you gasp when he slips his fingers inside you and the way your walls tighten around him.

it's everything.

to see you completely fall apart against his touch. to feel the way you let go of his hair and search for his hands, intertwine them, and need them the way you do. to see you come so undone; you release everything you have. you squirt, making a mess on his fingers. your gasps come out like stutters, but your moans take over.

a huge relief is lifted off your shoulders.

you can always count on jungkook for the most mind-blowing orgasm. he just knows your body so well. he does it so good. he's so good to you.

as you catch your breath, jungkook gets up to grab a towel from your cabinet. he returns to you, wiping your inner thighs and then your folds. he then lifts you up a bit to place the towel underneath. without an exchange of words, you open your arms and he collapse in them.

there, you two lay.

his head is on your chest as you play with his hair.

mumbling against your skin, he asks; "what time is it?"

"like.. 1am?"

"oh," jungkook yawns. "kinda early."

though it's true, you know you aren't as young as before. before, you two used to leave the house at 1am... now, with zion's routine and your career; you were usually asleep by 11pm.

"you're gonna regret saying that when zion comes in at 7am and jumps on the bed." you laugh, tugging on his hair a bit. "and when he demands for pancakes so you have to get up and cook them—"

"i can cook them."

"i know," you remind him. "you like making them heart-shaped... cos you like to show off."

"cos i love you, actually."

"yeah, yeah."

he chuckles and you kiss the top of his head.

then, a silence falls upon you two. a part of you wonders if he's asleep already and if you should shut your eyes and follow... but then, he speaks.

"are you okay?" jungkook asks you, as gentle as possible. "you just... you seem really stressed these days. you're handling everything well, by the way.. i just want to check up on you... cos i can take zion on the days you're busy, you know? it's no problem. i can also come by and help out in the house—"

"yeah," you think for a moment. "did you do my laundry? i saw everything in my closet was folded."

"i did."

"okay. thank you. you didn't have to."

"i know."

"okay."

jungkook sighs. "so... are you okay?"

you pause.

"should i quit?"

jungkook pulls away from you. he sits up and stares at you.

"are you kidding me?" is all he manages to say even though a million and one things run through his mind. "is that what you really want to do?"

"i d-don't..." you shake your head, eyes beginning to gloss with tears. "i just.. i feel so drained? like i'm not here for zion enough.. like i'm not present in moments with him. sometimes i cook breakfast without even realizing i'm burning the food because i'm daydreaming of a different life—i d-don't know. i don't know anymore. i'm so tired of winning all the time too. does that even... does that even make sense?"

jungkook looks at you sincerely. with all his heart, he can feel your pain and wants to do anything and everything to ease it. he knew something was up with you. he fucking knew it. you were like this before you asked for a break. you were like this when your best friend moved away. you were like this before graduating from law school.

it's a lot.

he knows it.

you have a lot on your plate and you've always been on the go. jungkook has been fortunate enough to have had time in his career and projects to pace himself... whereas you've always been the best of the best. the demands are crazy and coming home to wanting to be the best mom possible (which you are) must be completely exhausting.

he can't imagine how stressed you must be. he can't imagine what it's like to be you. he can't imagine what it's like to not be with you in moments like these.

"hey," he reaches out for you. you tighten your lips before burying your face to his chest. he wraps his arms around you, stroking your hair and easing your mind with his words. "you're brilliant, you know that? you have completely paved such a life for zion. you did it for yourself too... and it's tiring. i can't imagine how tired you are, honey. it's okay to rest and it's okay to need help. it's okay to put things down and it's okay to pick them up again when you're ready. you don’t have to do big things just because you’re capable of it… doing the right small things is good too. it’s more than enough, actually. ___, if you want to quit, if you want to lose, if you want to not want anything—so be it. do it all or do nothing at all... do it and let me be beside you through it all. i'm always going to believe in everything you do. i'm always going to give you what you need. i don’t want you to burn out. i’m here to protect you, you know? i'm always just... going to be... and you're... you're always going to—"

"shut up." you place your finger on his lips. "c-can you just hold me tonight or something? put me to sleep."

"okay, baby. should i sing you a lullaby too?" he chides as he kisses the top of your head. a little sleepy, he shuts his eyes as he rests his chin on top. as you pull yourself closer to him, you rest your head on his chest.

"... and can you leave more clothes here?"

jungkook's eyes shoot open. his heart flutters and in every possible way there is; he falls in love with you all over again.

"y-yeah," he clears his throat, attempting to hold himself together. "i can do that. i can leave more clothes here."

"okay," you yawn. "i love you... always."

"always," he repeats. "... forever too! i love you forever."

you snicker, teasing him about how cheesy he is. he laughs, blaming you for starting it. soon, you two talk about each other's day and little things zion does that make your heart glow. suddenly, then all at once, you two fall asleep.

it's beautiful, isn't it?

to be falling in love at the same time (once again).

you were right.

not that jungkook doubted you or anything—but you were right.

zion climbed into bed with you two at 7am. his eyes were barely open as he dragged mr kookie along with him. a few whines escaped his lips as he's frustrated and half asleep. to soothe his son, jungkook pulls him in and wraps him in his embrace.

you're still asleep when this happens but the slight movements make you responsive. shifting, you put your arm around jungkook and nuzzle yourself into the crook of his neck. he stretches his neck and kisses your forehead. then, he turns to his other side and does the same to zion.

zion then lets out a sleepy giggle from jungkook's kiss. his eyes are fluttering shut, but it's obvious he's fighting the sleepiness.

"dada?"

"mhm?"

mid yawn, zion asks; "you stay?"

"i'm staying."

jungkook breathes this moment in and holds you and zion tighter. he can't believe how lucky he is. how blessed he is for this second chance. how happy he is for this new beginning.

he’s so grateful for his forever and always.

[kazutora-kurokawa]

hiyaaa

How do you think Tenjiku's boys would react to his (somewhat drunk) girlfriend flirting with them?

Tenjiku w/ Kinda Drunk!Flirty!Girlfriend

♡ SFW, fem reader, drinking and intoxication, kissing, violence ♡

Characters: Izana, Kakucho, Ran, Rindou, Mochi, Mucho, Shion

note: thanks for requesting anon ♥️ okay last request of the day babes because I have a hot date 🤭 jkjk I'm single asf 🥲 nah but I'm just tired lol, I had like 3 hours of sleep and have been up since 7am writing and my brain just isn't in it rn + I haven't eaten anything yet so yeah 😭

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Izana

🎴 Thinks your flirting is cute and flirts back twice as hard (always trying to one-up somebody 🙄)

🎴 He's lowkey drunk too, he doesn't drink much so he's a bit of a lightweight

🎴 Ends up punching a guy at the bar for looking at you, guess he's not the only one who can't resist your charm

Kakucho

🩷 Gets flustered by your flirting and tries not to show it

🩷 Takes away your drink privileges like the responsible boyfriend he is

"I think that's enough darling, you look a bit...tipsy. We should head home."

Ran

💜 Flirts back and gets touchy with you, he's probably dead sober too, he just can't keep his hands to himself

💜 Starts a competition with you, who can say cheesier things to the other? (you don't even know it's a competition 😭 you just think he's being sweet)

"No you're cuter, my precious little angel ♡"

Rindou

🩵 He's DJing at the club you two are at and your flirting throws him off his game

"Baby chill, I'm busy. Just gimme a quick sec okay?"

🩵 Ends up flirting with you instead of doing his actual job, it's much funner anyway

Mochi

🍡 Laughs at your flirting and kisses you just to see you get all flustered

"Look at your little face! You're all flushed and nervous sweetheart~"

🍡 Will bring up other times you've been drunk or intoxicated just to embarrass you

Mucho

🔷 Lets you flirt with him and safeguards you from strangers because he knows how shady people can be

🔷 Watches your drink and stays sober while you have fun around the club, he's always a few steps behind you though

🔷 Drives you home so you don't have to get a ride, leaves aspirin and water on your bedside table before he leaves

Shion

🥀 He's fucking hammered and probably doesn't even realize you're his girlfriend when you start flirting

🥀 In his mind he's like damn this chick is hot, wonder if she has a boyfriend ☠️

🥀 He's all over you for the rest of the night and eventually wakes up the next morning to you teasing him, it's worth it though since he made you laugh

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten

[bananayuyu]

all tied up {part 1}

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: angst, eventual smut

Word count: 10.5k

Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts (all the smut happens in part 2)

A/n: Well I had the goal of making this maybe 2k words initially, and now it's 22.4k so I decided to split it into two parts (please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)

Read part 2 here

Read it on ao3

"Morning."

Your coworker's tone is cold as ice, as if he swallowed the winter air on his way to the building and was now spitting it at you. 

"Hi," you grunt, not bothering to look up from your desk. 

It was a biting, harsh morning, and the headache you were nursing wasn't doing any favors to your mood. Only minutes into your work day you already felt bleary, your legs still shivering from the short walk between the subway station and the twenty-story building your office rested in. In the mornings you woke it from its slumber; the lights in the lobby blinking on, even the heater rumbling awake as you walked through the door, as if it took a break from its job all night, too. It certainly felt that frosty in here, especially at 7am sharp, when you stumbled in before everyone else. You preferred this early shift and were thankful to be walking out the door so early each day, early enough that even in the dead of winter the sun hadn't yet set. The early mornings never bothered you; the solitude was tender and warm with you, even if the air was cruel on these freezing winter mornings. 

The intrusion of your steely coworker was unwelcome, to say the least.

"Why are you here so early?" you ask, a sharp edge to your tone. You're bitter that you won't have your usual hour to yourself, especially given the meeting you are set to have with your boss in just a few hours. You'd needed this time to mentally prepare, and here he was ruining your plans, yet again.

"I figured I'd come in early to get work done before our little meeting with the boss," he replies, a slow sigh leaving his lips and betraying just how tense he is. Well, at least it wasn't just you. You had been dreading this morning since last Friday, when the two of you had your worst argument yet, prompting your boss to demand a meeting with you both. You had no idea what would happen; you'd never had your boss demand a scheduled meeting with you in the six years you'd worked here. Things were different now, now that you worked as a grant writer and not at the front desk, but still it was concerning. He always just met with people spontaneously, and the scheduled bi-weekly meetings for the entire administrative staff were the time where conflicts and confusion were dealt with. He'd never called just two people into his office like this; then again, no one at your company had ever butted heads like you two, so badly that it left the whole office simmering with frustration, everyone dreading the sour expression that permanently settled on your features by the end of each day. You were so different now, so changed from the calm and happy woman they all knew.

You stood to make your way to the kitchen, passing by his desk as you went to turn on the kettle, boiling water for your first tea of the day. This morning called for multiple cups, your throat scratchy and dry from nerves, your body depleted from your lack of sleep. You'd stayed up far too late with your best friend last night, rambling about the meeting, begging her to help you come up with an excuse to stay home. She'd laughed with you, throwing out a few random ideas, but she knew as well as you did that you'd be here today. As much as you dreaded it, you would only miss this meeting if you were on your literal death bed, your job meaning too much to you to lose it.

From this angle he had a perfect view of you, your face scrunched up in concentration as you set the kettle to temperature, placing other employee's dirty dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. You were too obsessed with organization, in a way that made him irrationally angry, but he couldn't stop watching you every day, watching the way you adhered so severely to your little routines, watching the way his interruptions cast your face in worry and made you snap at him. Today, like every Monday, you wore your favorite shoes, the black platform Mary Janes. Up your legs stretched your thigh-high wool socks, also black, held up by a ruffled stretch of gray lace at the top. Over your hips lay a gray tartan skirt, reaching almost down to your socks, leaving an inch of bare thigh exposed in a way he thought wasn't really work appropriate. And then there was your black turtleneck, tight and accentuating your obviously braless chest, the curves and shapes of your body not hidden in the slightest. He was watching you intently, waiting for you to finally notice, and boy was he not disappointed when you finally did.

"You've hid my mug, haven't you," you spit, slamming the dishwasher harder than you needed to. You hadn't seen it in the cabinet, so you'd gingerly searched through the dishwasher too, desperately hoping someone else hadn't used it the previous week and neglected to wash it. Not finding it in there was a relief in some ways, but immediately you knew who was at fault for its disappearance, and his dark chuckle in response to you confirmed your suspicions ten fold. "You're such a dick," you grumble under your breath, reaching for any other random mug in the cabinet, needing something to house the tea you desperately need.

"What was that?" he asks, his tone mocking you, knowing exactly the sentiment of what you'd said even if he hadn't heard you clearly. You sigh and roll your eyes, ripping open your tea bag and plopping it in the mug, gently pouring the steaming liquid over it. "You just love to blame me for everything, don't you, even if you have no proof." His voice is low, dark, and it makes a shiver run through you even as the steam of the water warms your face. "You're cruel y/n, so cruel." His tone of voice makes you feel trapped, even all these feet away, and you just freeze for a bit, your tea steeping a bit longer than it should have. A creak of the building snaps you out of it, and you fling the tea bag into the trash, gently blowing over the mug and taking a tiny sip, testing the temperature.

Finally you turn, catching a glimpse of him. Jeong Yunho, the newest addition to your little office, hired about six months ago now, you realized. The date hit you in the gut this morning; the year had flown by, especially the last half, and in days it would no longer be this year anymore, no longer be the ending of an adventure but rather the start, when you'd have to plan again, think again. His suit today is stone gray, the color only barely darker than his wool overcoat, his tie a dark navy that really just looked black. His shoes were dark navy too; which you only knew because of the difference in the toe box from his other black shoes, the ones he normally wore. It must be a special day, he must be heading to something important after work. Some sort of meeting? No, that wouldn't really make sense, you all didn't work in a field where meetings were held outside of work hours, in restaurants or bars. Unless the meeting was about getting out of here, finding another placement. Maybe a date? Who'd want to date such an asshole, though?

He was rich and good-looking. Even you could recognize that. And boy did it irk you, that he looked so good in his suits, that he wasn't too masculine or too feminine, that his nose sloped in just the perfect way, that his smile was soft and bright and so endearing. You hadn't met many people in your life who were so captivating at first glance, and sure, when he'd first started here a part of you hoped something might happen between the two of you. You'd eat lunch at each other's desks, excitedly discussing your newest grants or talking about your favorite shows, which of course, were the same. It was a blissful few weeks, a beautiful honeymoon of sorts. Of course it couldn't last forever; you landed your dream job, everything you'd been working towards finally coming true last year, a new perfect apartment with your best friend being the cherry on top. Of course this year a man appeared and tried to ruin everything.

The two of you work in silence until 7:45, when everyone else starts arriving for the day, led of course by Dr. Acharya, the supervising psychotherapist. Next is Tally, who gives you a short wave as she heads to reception, her horn-rimmed glasses peeking over the window to blow you a kiss when she finds the mug of tea you'd made waiting for her. Soon many others scramble in together; Marnie, Amir, Rua, and Keisha, each making their way to their individual offices to ready themselves for their first clients. Soon Jongho, in charge of billing and accounting, walks in too, sitting down at his desk next to Yunho. And finally Eliana stumbles in just before eight, her giant coffee in hand, her eyes slightly dark with panic like they always are as she rushes into her office. Your boss, Mr. Kangsoo, won't be in for another hour at least and the day lurches forward as the first clients of the day are brought back for their counseling sessions, the office breaking into a low hum that will stay with you until you leave.

Your digitizing task today is boring but necessary, and that headache isn't leaving you, even with the tea warming your throat and your favorite piano concerto comforting you through the morning. You always loved Rachmaninov in the winter. But even so, your mood was sour, too sour. Yunho and Jongho's comfortable chatter was making your blood boil, making it hard for you to focus on your stupid, tedious task. In a huff you stand, heading straight for the reception office, papers in hand.

"Hi hi," Tally greets you as you open her door, gently closing it behind you.

"Dude, I'm dreading this meeting," you say immediately, sighing.

"Why? I'm sure nothing bad will come of it, Mr. Kangsoo loves you," she says, canceling an appointment on her screen and typing out a note.

"I know, I'm just already pissy today, not exactly the best mood to be bringing to the boss's office," you chuckle, setting your papers on the corner of her desk. "I kept neglecting digitizing this pile and now I can't stop obsessing over it. And Yunho came in early today, and hid my fucking mug. Again."

"Did you see this?" she asks, grabbing a sticky note from the corner of her computer and holding it out to you.

Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?

"God he's such an ass," you whisper, making Tally giggle. "Thank god for you girl, I don't know what I'd do without you here."

"You're 100% sure it's Yunho?" she asks, eyeing you.

"Who else would it be?" you reply, rolling your eyes, making her laugh again. 

"Well, I guess now 'the pretty one' has been told," she giggles, rolling her eyes too as she crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash.

"Like I said, he's an ass," you reply, not as quietly this time. A parent obviously waiting for their child snaps their head up, looking in your direction. They're maybe twenty feet away, and the window between the lobby and the reception desk is small, so you doubt they really heard you. But you balk in embarrassment anyway, silencing yourself.

"I should get back to my desk, I guess," you say, sighing as you pick up your stack of papers once again.

"Just ignore him," Tally says, smiling kindly.

"I'll try," you sigh, earning a disapproving look from Tally. "I will, I promise. You're right, I know, I should just ignore him," you answer, looking over to see the back of his head, his large hands crossed over each other and resting there on his jet black hair.  Fuck him, you can't help but think. Everything had been going so well, and you'd never been someone who got into drama at work, ever. It was a point of pride for you for a long time, a huge reason why your boss gave you the position he did and trusted you to be a part of his team. Now it had all been ruined, by this fucking asshole, in his perfectly tailored suits.

The day dragged on, your mind spinning with anxiety. It wouldn't leave you until that dreaded meeting, you knew that, so you busied yourself with scanning and organizing the files, not bothering to try to get any writing done. There was no way you would, not in this state.

Finally your boss arrived, his heavy footsteps sending waves of dread through you, your stomach a fluttering mess. You hadn't been able to eat this morning, which was very unlike you; you could feel how weak you were from the lack of sustenance, the adrenaline making you shakier than it normally did. You stumbled on wobbly legs towards his office once he called for you, Yunho's presence dark and foreboding behind you, and you swore you heard him whisper 'behave yourself' as the two of you passed into the office. Your blood was boiling as you sat down, the two chairs facing the front of your boss's desk, your face a permanent scowl as you stared Yunho down, watching him settle himself down in the chair and spread his legs farther than he needed to, looking all too comfortable.

"Ok, to start, this is not to scare you, or fire you," your boss begins, already zeroing in on the dynamic between you; the cool and collected look of Yunho, and the angry, stricken look of you, your eyes deep with worry when you meet your boss's gaze. "You both know me, I don't really do this sort of thing. I don't need to control you all, to be a good leader." He sighs deeply, looking almost as pained as you do, like he's mulled this over for too long himself. "I just can't let this go on any longer. The conflict between you two is affecting everyone, and it's clearly affecting your own work, too. I can see it in the quality of your writing. You are both very smart, very good grant writers, and even so you've been doing a good job, but I know you both can do better. And this fighting, it really needs to stop." He sighs deeply again, shaking his head subtly, like his subconscious is trying to rid itself of the stress you two have caused him. It makes so many feelings bloom in your guts, but the overwhelming one is guilt, the feeling so entirely consuming that you have the urge to jump to the floor now and start babbling out apologies. But you stop yourself, stop the tears from coming, and taking a deep breath you regain some composure. You know your boss, and you know his cadence, so you know he has more to say.

"So, we're figuring this out today. I don't care what it takes, we're settling this. So tell me, why do you two fight so much?" His eyes sweep back and forth, eyeing each of you for any sign, any subtle movement that could give him some idea of what was going on. He had his own theories, but he really couldn't be sure, and due to his laid back nature with his staff, he hadn't been monitoring you two enough to really know. With a sigh he leans back in his chair, letting the silence hang in the room until one of you is willing to break it.

"Sir, I don't think she's liked me from the moment I started here," Yunho finally speaks up, leaning forward in his chair and setting his elbows on his knees, the casual and confident gesture making your skin crawl. "I think she's been trying to make me miserable, so I'll leave-"

"That is not tru-"

"I think she feels some sort of ownership here, cause she's worked here so much longer than m-"

"That is absolutely not true!" you cry, your shot nerves leaving you unable to control your volume. "I would never try to run someone out of the office that way, that's completely unprofessional! He's the one who started all of this, he's the one who leaves nasty notes for me and hides my things and puts me down constantly in every admin meeting, trying to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone! If we're really gonna go there, I think he feels intimidated by my experience here, by the fact that I have a clearly established relationship with everyone, that you and all the therapists like me, and that even though he has more experience than me I'm still writing better grants!"

"Y/n, please keep yo-" your boss starts.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he left a note for me on Tally's computer this morning! How unprofessional is that! Now he's dragging her into our drama too, which I promise you I've never done! I-"

"Oh sure, you've never complained about me to anyone in the office," Yunho juts in, rolling his eyes. "It's not like everyone here sides with you on everything, always. If it weren't for Jongho I think you would have made everyone in this office hate me by now."

"Everyone loves you here, what do you mean?" you shoot back, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I never talk about you to any of them, not even Tally. Because I know it would be wrong. Maybe everyone sides with me on certain issues because I'm right, have you ever considered that?! And by the way, Tally thinks poorly of you because of her own observations, because she doesn't like the things you say to me. So that has everything to do with you and your shitty behavior-" you cut yourself off, slapping a hand over your mouth. Because as comfortable as you are with your boss, you never, ever curse in front of him. It's an unspoken rule in the office, and one you'd never struggled to follow before. Shame washes over you like a wave of boiling water, making your whole body begin to shake.

"I'm so sorry, sir," you bow your head to him, your eyes closed as you fight to keep yourself from bursting into tears.

"She's obviously quite emotionally unstable, sir," Yunho pipes up from beside you, and of all the things he's said recently it's definitely the most hurtful. Your head shoots up, a single tear racing down your cheek despite your attempts to keep it at bay, and you just stare at him, your face betraying everything you're feeling.

"There's no need for that sort of insult right now, Yunho," your boss scolds him. "I need you two to resolve this, not fight even more. So tell me about this note, what did it say? Why did you leave a note for y/n on Tally's desk?"

"I'm sorry sir, I understand," Yunho responds, his perfectly respectful tone and gestures looking so put on. "And honestly sir, I have no idea what y/n is talking about. I didn't leave any notes for anyone this morning."

"Oh, so you're going to lie right to our boss's face?" you ask him, your volume lower but your anger still evident. "Do I need to go grab Tally? Seriously?"

"Did this note have my name on it anywhere?" he chuckles, fixing you with a strong gaze. And if you aren't mistaken, there's some sort of twinkle in his eye, almost like he's enjoying this. Is it seeing you suffer, seeing the anger and sadness in your eyes that makes him feel joy? Or maybe it's just messing with you in front of your boss, forcing you to over-explain yourself to the point of looking hysterical. Whatever it is it makes you uneasy, your stomach feeling like it might fall out of your ass at any moment.

"Sir, it said, 'Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?" you say, exasperated. "He just said he thinks I've been trying to drive him out. It was obviously him who left that note." You turn your body to face your boss again, not wanting to catch even a glimpse of Yunho anymore, your eyes pleading with Mr. Kangsoo to believe you.

"Sir, I did not write that. I would never say something so inappropriate about a coworker," Yunho adds, and though you don't see it, he's staring right at you. Your boss sighs heavily, your eyes fixed to the way he's staring at Yunho, the lines in his forehead deep with frustration. He looks like he's about to start speaking but then stops himself, another deep breath moving through his lungs, before running his hands through his hair and leaning back in his chair again.

"God, I wish you two would just sleep with each other already and get it out of your systems," he groans under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear, your whole body on high alert.

"What?!" you snap, your response involuntary. You had respected this man for years, admired the way he ran this office with calm confidence and respect for everyone, and you couldn't believe something so inappropriate had just come out of his mouth.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be gross. I just can't help but wonder if part of the issue between the two of you is, well, the obvious attraction," Mr. Kangsoo responds, sighing deeply. "I do sincerely apologize if I'm reading things incorrectly, or if that last comment made you uncomfortable. I don't in any way want to encourage my employees to sleep with each other, obviously, and that just slipped out of my mouth. It was inappropriate, I know. I just feel like I'm at my wit's end with you two, and I feel desperate to find some sort of solution. Because you both are incredible employees and I don't want to have to get rid of either of you."

"I'm so sorry sir, that this whole situation with us two has caused you stress, but I can assure you there's no attraction here. Only dislike," you reply, letting out a shaky breath.

"No attraction at all, sir," Yunho adds, making you feel disgusted at actually agreeing with him for once.

"Then why the constant arguing?" your boss asks.

"Like I said sir, he's been tormenting me-"

"She clearly has something against me sir, and I don't know what I could do to change tha-"

"You don't know what you could do?? Maybe stop being so mean to me!" you cry out again.

"Y/n, keep your voice down, this is my last warning," your boss cuts in, his face stern. "You know I see you as almost a daughter to me, you started working here when you were what, 17? And now you've finished your degree, made so many strides in the last few years. I'm proud of you and everything you've accomplished, but I'm struggling to feel proud right now, with how you've been acting recently in the office. It isn't like you. I know Yunho is at fault for this too, and I want you to know I've already talked to him about his comments made during our admin meetings. What he said a few weeks ago, insinuating that you didn't understand the "actual point" of your role in this company because you have less experience than him, was uncalled for. So was his comment earlier. But I see too that you are quick to jump on everything he says, to assume that everything he does has ill intent towards you, and I don't think that that's fair either. I know you're more mature than this," he finishes, his eyes soft as he looks at you.

"I don't think I am, sir," you squeak out, your voice breaking as more tears well in your eyes.

"Y/n, I won't have this. I need you to approach this like you've approached everything else in your life, with the goal of actually understanding it. Don't give up on this now," he says, his voice stern but encouraging in that special way only he can be.

"Sir, how am I supposed to feel watching you accept her hysterics?" Yunho asks, his face tense with annoyance.

"God, you're cruel," you whisper, curling into a ball on your chair, not caring that you're wearing a short skirt and you probably shouldn't be holding your legs this way.

"Yunho, you're getting on my last fucking nerve today," your boss snaps, and both of you have wide eyes of shock, Mr. Kangsoo not one to curse in the office, either. "This entire conversation went worse than I expected, and your uncalled for comments show me that maybe you're not as mature as I originally thought you were. You came in with great references, son, and you clearly are very smart, but you must realize you're up against someone who's been working for me for six years, and who has proven time and time again to be basically the perfect employee. This conflict is a blip on the radar for her, but for you it's been happening almost the entire time I've known you. I want to believe the best in you, but you must understand how this looks from my perspective."

You both just sit frozen, like two kids in time-out, your faces different versions of disappointment. Your eyes are slightly red from crying, and your knees are still pulled up to your chin, your arms squeezing so tightly around them that it hurts.

"I've had it with this conversation, I don't think this is going to work. Which I should have known, it's clear that conversation between the two of you always leads to conflict," your boss continues. "I'm sending you both home, right now, and I'm demanding that you figure out this thing between you, or I'm firing you both. You have a week. Do not return to this office until the two of you have sorted out your issues, and can promise me you will not fight ever again going forward," he states, his arms crossed over his chest.

You both gawk at him, your faces looking almost identical, as you try to take in what he's just told you.

"Sir, I-" Yunho starts, but even he's stumbling over his words with just how shocked he is. "I don't think this is fair, sir. You should- you can't force us to make up, that isn't going to happen. This- we- we'll both be fired by next week," he stumbles out, his collected demeanor finally shattering.

"With all due respect, son, this is my company. I can do what I want. And this is what I feel is best. So both of you go, now, I won't hear another word. Out," he demands, standing and nodding towards his door.

You rise without a word, your body shaking dramatically from the heaps of adrenaline still coursing through you. Silently you grab your coat and scarf, packing up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, walking to the kitchen to grab your lunch out of the fridge. You make your way towards the front door, stopping briefly at reception to look at Tally, her curly hair hanging down as she furiously types away at a document. Finally she looks up and sees your face, her own twisting into concern and confusion.

"What happened?" she whispers.

"I- I don't know," you respond, shaking your head. "Ask boss about it, I'm sure he'll tell you," you sigh, wiping another tear from your eyes. "I can't stay, I have to go," you squeak, giving her a quick hug, before turning and walking towards the front door again, nearly bumping into Yunho. You don't give him the courtesy of an apology, instead storming past him, walking angrily towards the elevator.

And of course you take the elevator down together, the silence awkward and tense and indescribable. You know he'll probably be walking down to the subway station with you, and it doesn't even surprise you when he gets on the same line as you, heading the same direction. But when he gets off at the same exact stop and you feel him walking up the stairs behind you, you can't just accept it any longer.

"Are you fucking following me?" you spit over your shoulder, your eyes dark with anger.

"No, y/n, I live up this way," he retorts, pointing ahead of you two in the exact direction of your neighborhood.

"God, don't tell me we're neighbors," you groan, trudging down the street, the remnants of last week's snow still stuck in the gutters.

"You live in Arbol Village?" he asks, almost sounding impressed.

"On Maple street," you sigh, with a nod.

"Me too," he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This isn't funny, you fucking psychopath," you retort, angry that he's still here in your proximity, and angrier that there's only one path up into your neighborhood from this side, and the hill that leads up is making you out of breath in a way that's nothing but embarrassing.

"And you say I'm the mean one," he responds, smiling as he shakes his head.

"I really don't get how you can be so blasé about this," you huff out, your footsteps heavy as you nearly crest the hill and enter your neighborhood.

"Workplaces are shit, this is how it goes. If I have to find another job, I will. But don't think I won't go down without a fight. Mr. Kangsoo is by far the best boss I've ever worked for, so I'm going to do whatever I can to keep my position," he says, his breathing annoyingly stable even after walking the entirety of the hill. Slowly you two start into the neighborhood, but suddenly he's turning down a path towards the second house on Maple Street, the large dark one with an almost Victorian structure. 

"Of course the fancy one is your house," you sigh, seeing the ornate curtains covering only part of the front window.

"Come in, we need to talk more," Yunho says, beckoning you with his hands, but you can't be bothered. 

"Fuck no, are you crazy?" you respond, already stomping down the sidewalk past his house, not bothering to look back. The last thing you could bear is his presence right now, and for some reason you feel like you're not totally in control of yourself anyway, your legs moving so firmly they'd probably still be going even if you protested. Yunho just sighs, himself drained from the meeting you'd just left, and not having the energy to fight more. Later today, or tomorrow morning, he promised himself, he'd call you and start sorting this out for good. But for now he just watched you grow smaller and smaller, your hair blowing gently behind you in the winter breeze, your legs looking weak.

Once you were home, two and a half blocks from your asshole of a coworker, you collapsed on your bed, passing out in moments. In the late afternoon you woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut, your roommate, Yunji, calling, "shit, sorry! The wind is crazy out there!"

"You're good!" you called back, but your voice made it apparent to her that it was one of those days where you needed to be left alone, so she didn't come into your room. You picked yourself up and stripped off your work clothes, finally freeing your thighs of the tight elastics that held up your socks, two red rings now visible on your skin. Automatically you brushed your teeth, grabbing your comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, and passed out in your bed again, not even eating dinner, not checking your phone. The sun had already begun to set, the sky outside rearing for another stormy night, and your body was lulled to sleep within minutes, your head buried deep into your pillows as you pulled your comforter over your head.

You woke in what felt like minutes, your room eerily quiet. The light looked bright outside, very bright; it was disorienting, both the quiet and the light, and you lifted yourself up, squinting around in search of your phone. You'd forgotten to plug it in last night, so it surely would be almost dead. You found it still in your work bag, hanging on for dear life with the battery at five percent. The time astonished you, 9am, and you gawked at yourself. No wonder you felt so disoriented; you'd been sleeping for nearly sixteen hours.

And as you finally sorted through your notifications, your shock over the time left your brain entirely. Because the shock of having a missed call from Yunho, having two missed calls from him, floored you, literally. You sank down to the ground, furiously clicking to see the times. One was last night, at about 7pm, and the other was this morning about an hour ago. This morning he'd left a voicemail too, presumably right after you hadn't answered. With shaky hands you clicked on it, holding the phone tight to your ear so you wouldn't miss a word.

"Y/n, I know you don't like talking to me, but we really should try to sort this out earlier rather than later. Please call me back as soon as you get this."

Well, fuck.

He sounded disappointed, and frustrated, and perturbed to even be leaving the message. But god was that voice convincing, even to you, the way he worded things so eloquently and politely, like he's genuinely a good and thoughtful person. It hit you hard while listening that maybe your anger wasn't justified, maybe you'd been unfair to him like your boss had said. The sneaking feeling had graced you many times over your months of conflict, but now it felt too strong to ignore. Did he really want to sort this out? It sounded like it. Why, why, why was this so damn confusing for you?

Your mind raced as your stomach growled, as you tried to get ahold of yourself. Still sprawled out on your carpet you felt exhausted, your body somehow still feeling pulled towards sleep despite the hoards of it you'd just been allotted. You peeled yourself up, standing carefully, moving towards your window to get a view of the backyard. Looking at the garden always calmed you, even in the winter when most of the flowers were gone. And as you opened your blinds you realized why things seemed so bright this morning, and why you were barely hearing a sound.

A thick blanket of snow covered everything, flakes still falling gently from the sky which was dotted with clouds. The sun shone through a gap in them, reflected bright off the entirely white ground. You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that everyone had been forced to stay home today, so your missing work wasn't really a disruption to the office. Whoever was miffed about having to take your early shift wouldn't have to, after all. It was like the world was granting you a favor, as you often felt that she did, and you were so thankful. Because this, too, was a great excuse to avoid Yunho longer. There was no way you could leave the house with so much snow outside; it wasn't safe. You breathed in a sigh of relief, shaking it out as you finally connected your phone to charge, slipping on some thick socks and gliding your way out to the kitchen.

After breakfast you popped back into your room, shooting off a quick text.

Y/n: I just saw the snow, I don't think I can come over. Let's see tomorrow.

Almost immediately a call comes through from him, but you let it ring out. There was no way you were going to waste this beautiful snow day talking to him, and you had a whole week to resolve this anyway. It gnawed at you, in the back of your mind somewhere, but presently you just couldn't find it in yourself to voluntarily speak to him.

Yunho: We can still talk on the phone. And we really should. Y/n: We should take a break from talking and cool off. For today.

That was how you were justifying it to yourself. You needed a break, deserved a break from him. You wouldn't be able to really resolve anything if you were still pissed, and with the shock of the morning's weather and your body's obvious need for even more rest, you just couldn't take it today. Plus, everyone else was getting a day off, why couldn't you?

Yunho: I disagree

You flip your phone over, setting it on your bedside table, and you walk away. You'd had it with him arguing with you over text too, and the idea of curling up on the couch with Yunji, sipping hot cocoa and watching your favorite movies, sounded too enticing. You were not going to think about him anymore today. It was decided.

And surprisingly you were mostly able to keep your promise to yourself, the day passing in all its wintery glory, your favorite tradition with your roommate leaving you just as content as it always did. With a gentle sigh you both finally stood up, moving to the kitchen to wash the dishes you'd made all day, finally putting away the snacks you'd covered the coffee table with. As you both walked past the window in the hall you stopped short, eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you.

"Holy shit," Yunji said, grabbing onto your arm. You both were used to the snow here, having grown up in the next town over. But this snow, that now seemed to be three feet deep, was something you hadn't seen since the one glorious winter more than a decade ago. You were eight that year, and the day after Christmas it snowed furiously, continuing all the way until New Year's Day when the ground was so covered that everywhere you looked outside all you saw was white.

You hadn't realized it was snowing all day, that the sky had turned dark in the early afternoon with all of the cloud cover. You were both too engrossed in your fun to notice.

"Well, I guess we're not going back to work for another few days," she laughed, sighing at how lovely it looked.

"Thank god," you replied, sighing in relief.

"Has Yunho been giving you trouble again?" she asked, and you turned to her with a downturned smile.

"When is he not," you sighed, laughing.

"Hey, how did your meeting go, yesterday?" she asked.

"Fucking terrible," you reply, a frustrated hand running through your hair.

"What happened?"

"Boss said that if the two of us can't resolve our differences, he's letting us both go," you answer, sighing harshly.

"Oh my god, that's crazy! How could he do that to you??" she replied, eyes wide.

"Girl, I know. I don't even know how it got to this point."

She moved to hug you, knowing just how much this situation had weighed on you, and just how much your job meant. She'd seen it in your eyes, even if you hadn't always told her exactly what was going on. She knew how sensitive you were, and she couldn't believe your boss would say such a thing. Especially given the years of dedication you'd given to that office, that you so genuinely cared about.

"What are you gonna do?" she asks, pulling back. 

"Well I guess, try to resolve it. I don't know how, though, every time we talk he just pisses me off and we fight. He's not reasonable about anything. He's always joking, nothing is ever totally serious. I saw him stutter for the first time yesterday, when Mr. Kangsoo gave us that ultimatum, but earlier in the meeting he was way too casual about everything. He was calling me hysterical and unstable, and, just, how the fuck does my boss think I'm going to solve this? That man is fucking impossible," you say, shaking your head.

"He sounds like a sociopath," she replies. "If I ever see him I will wring his neck, I swear to god."

"Well, you might. He lives in this neighborhood." Yunji's eyes go wide at your comment, her mouth hanging open. "Yeah, I know. He lives on our street, too, you know the fancy looking house that's second in from the road? Like if you're walking from the station this direction, the second house on the right? Yeah, that's his. I found out yesterday when I was walking home."

"How the fuck does a single guy in his twenties afford that?" she asks, baffled.

"He clearly has family money, he must. I'm sure he's made decent money for the past few years, but not enough to afford that. And all of his stuff, his suits and his briefcase and everything, looks expensive. And it's not like, shit that just looks expensive or name brand stuff. It's subtler than that, it just seems like everything he owns is so high quality."

"Fucking rich boys. I guess it isn't surprising, given how he's behaved. Like he's always gotten his way and never been told no."

"It really seems like it. Everyone always loves him, it's so annoying," you roll your eyes, thinking of every other staff member's reaction to meeting their shiny new coworker, and his easy demeanor, always saying what people want to hear. Except to you, it seemed.

"Well you can't really meet up and talk right now," Yunji says.

"No, but he said we should talk on the phone. I missed two calls from him, and he left me a message. But I can't bear to speak with him on the phone. I don't ever talk to my coworkers outside of work, no matter how close we are," you reply, shaking your head. "It just feels weird. I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I'm ignoring him for the rest of today."

"Understandable," she responds, squeezing your arm for a moment. "I should try to get some work done on my thesis, I guess, but you rest this evening. You deserve it."

As you both retire to your rooms, you sigh into your pillow. Despite the lazy day, despite the sixteen hours of sleep last night, you still feel tired. It must be mental, it's the only explanation at this point. And you know that means you should probably avoid your phone. But you reflexively check it; the anticipation brewing in your head isn't letting up.

You find two more missed calls from Yunho, and another text.

Yunho: How are we going to solve this if you keep ignoring me?

You suppose it makes you feel a little bad, a little guilty. Still, you can't be bothered to respond. You don't know why; you can't explain it. That feeling like you're not totally in control of your actions, like someone else is calling the shots, is back, and it really doesn't feel like something you can fight, or should fight. There's an eeriness about it, but it's so far in the back of your mind that you don't give it a second thought. After turning over your phone you climb into your covers, the light barely there outside as the evening approaches, the sky still covered in dark clouds and the snow still falling.

And just like that, two days pass. The snow has stayed heavy, making it unsafe to leave, the whole city quiet as few feel brave enough to venture outside. A desperate run to the grocery store calls a few, but thankfully you and Yunji have plenty of food in the pantry to last you a few days. She's taken the opportunity to really focus on her work, and you thought maybe you should, too. You never worked on grants at home, but you could bet Yunho was also taking advantage of the quiet time. You didn't really have anything better to do, yet you couldn't bring yourself to work at all, not when your head and gut were rolling with anxiety and fear and a crushing hatred of yourself. That first day avoiding Yunho had felt, well, not good, but justified. But the past two days, more missed calls and texts unanswered, you felt straight up guilty, and stupid. Not really for ignoring Yunho, as much as letting down your boss, which you knew you would. This couldn't be resolved; no matter what the two of you did you'd never get along, and it was clear that there was something in Yunho that made him unable to leave you alone. You hadn't particularly liked the last guy in his position, either, but the two of you had basically ignored each other, easily. But since his entrance to your office, Yunho seemed unable to not bother you, not leave notes, not piss you off every chance he got. And now you couldn't help but ignore him, even though you knew that doing so was fucking you both over, making it certain that you'd never return to that beloved office and your dream job.

You felt stuck. The literal fact of not being able to leave your apartment was eating you alive, making you feel scared and paranoid and vulnerable in ways you knew were illogical. Every little sound started to make you jump; you were losing it, slowly but surely coming apart at the seams. You swore you started hearing your mom's cat meowing for you, and once in the kitchen it sounded so real you spent minutes furiously searching the hall and your bedroom for her. You collapsed on the floor, waves of anxiety rolling over you as you held yourself in the fetal position, not even crying, just hyperventilating.

Yunho: You're being really immature and unfair by not responding to me. Not even giving this a chance of maybe working itself out

You hadn't responded to him in days, but something in you finally broke. It was in the way his words reflected how you felt about yourself, and the severe guilt that it brought you alighted in flames and suddenly felt like nothing but red, hot anger.

Y/n: Fuck you Yunho: Oh, so you are alive

Breathing heavy you stared at the screen, a sudden realization washed over you. You knew it was over; you'd maintained at least some level of professionalism up to this point, albeit not much, with him. Even when you fought in the office you didn't say anything personal or unnecessarily nasty. You only cursed at him under your breath, never loud enough that anyone could hear. But now you had said something nasty, in writing no less. Even if you both somehow made it back to work on Monday, he'd no doubt show your boss what you had said. And even with your long standing relationship with Mr. Kangsoo, you doubted he'd be willing to keep you on after seeing that.

So that was it. It was over. Logically you knew that you could find a new job, that this wasn't the end of your life. The new year was right around the corner, which was always a good time to find new placements. But you had studied communications and psychology specifically for this job, had dedicated years to learning everything you could about funding and mental health care and the ways your boss ran the office. Though it'd never been said directly, you had a feeling that one day you'd become his second-in-command, and maybe even take over running the place once he was ready to take a step back and retire. You loved this part of the city, loved living with your best friend here, and the commute was easy. You'd planned everything so well, yet it still was about to crumble in your hands. And with every passing minute, it felt like you were waiting for your life to implode, which made not being able to leave all the worse.

The next morning you woke to a call from your mom.

"Good morning," she answered, after your muffled and confused, hello? "Happy New Year sweetie."

"Hi mom, Happy New Year," you responded, rolling over to tuck yourself into the covers again. It had gotten bone-chillingly cold with the perpetual precipitation, and pulling the covers off in the morning felt torturous.

"Since you can't come down to see me today I thought I'd call. Are you two doing okay? Do you have enough food?"

"Yeah, we're doing fine," you say through a yawn. "We've got plenty of food, as long as this lets up in a few days."

"God, it better. I'm glad I got to see you on Christmas Eve."

"Me too."

"Are you doing okay? You sound off," she asks you, making your heart sink. She has no idea what's been going on; you've done an expert job of keeping it a secret from her, as you often do with your struggles, because you know she can't really handle it. You know she has too much to deal with on her own, and you never really feel like she gives you good advice, anyway. But with how you've been feeling mentally, hearing someone ask that has you panicking internally.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I just woke up is all," you lie, yawning again to punctuate your point. "I'm not really enjoying being stuck inside, I guess."

"That's not like you," your mom laughs, and you know she's shaking her head side to side the way she always does. "You used to always love when you were stuck inside, or stranded somewhere. Do you remember when you got lost at that theme park in Ocean City? When we found you at the ticket booth you were happy as can be. We thought we'd find you crying. The teenage boy who was watching you said you were quiet as can be, just sat in that little nook in total silence. You were such a funny kid." There's a mystical air to her tone telling the story, because she loves to reminisce in that way, and unfortunately you really, really don't. Because that was the time of your life when your dad was still around, and despite the years of therapy you still can't move past it all. 

"Yeah, I remember," you placate her, sighing. You wish you could travel to see her today, just to calm her nerves and make her not worry, because her worrying is the absolute last thing you want. As you stare out the window you see the sky is a bit clearer, and there don't appear to be many flakes still falling. But the snow is still thick and there's surely ice everywhere. You're not even sure if the three separate subway lines you have to take to reach her house are still running.

"Well, sweetie, the weather report said the snow's finally supposed to let up today, so maybe you can get some fresh air soon."

"That sounds good," you mutter, rolling over in bed. "I should go make some breakfast, I'm feeling really hungry. Thanks for calling, love you," you finish the call.

"Okay, love you too sweetie. Talk to you soon," she replies, before you hang up the call.

New Year's Day. You'd forgotten yesterday what day it was, and had been sort of avoiding your phone because of Yunho's texts and calls. You hadn't stayed up till midnight, hadn't welcomed the New Year in any way. You were surprised Yunji hadn't said anything, but then again neither of you really were the types to party or celebrate holidays much. You both had bad memories of them from growing up, or good memories that had turned bad once you'd matured and looked back without your naiveté. And your face and posture were probably screaming 'leave me alone,' Yunji always able to tell if you were upset. You were thankful for that, thankful that she knew how to leave you alone when you needed the space. Really, what did it matter what day it was? New Year's was like any other day of the year, it just had the honor of being first in the lineup. So why was your head spinning so much? Why couldn't you stop thinking about what your resolutions should be?

The morning was strange, even with a delicious bagel and a warm cup of Jasmine tea. It felt strange seeing the sky after it had been covered for days; it even felt strange looking out your living room window to the front yard, the snow on the street gray and muddy and pounded down by the tracks of the few brave souls who'd trekked out or driven in this weather. You saw one neighbor diligently shoveling snow off her driveway, bundled up head to toe in a giant puffy jacket and boots that looked too big for her. Her head snaps up, and you walk towards the window to see what she's seeing; a snow plow was making its way down your street, the drivers finally able to start their work today now that the worst of the storm was behind you. Even the sidewalks looked not so bad, as the clear day had allowed the sun to begin melting the thick snow, the air hot enough that it might not be too icy out there. Something in you called at you to go outside, but the second you thought about it a wave of dread hit you, and you knew you'd be too scared. It would be another day stuck in here, another day avoiding Yunho's texts and feeling so guilty, and you weren't sure if you could take it.

It had gotten to that point now. It had been so long since you felt like this, like you'd rather die than live another moment. Now, just like the first time, you felt so ridiculous and shameful for feeling that way, looking around to see the physical evidence of your privileged life. Your safe and cozy apartment, the food filling the fridge, the brand new washing machine you'd both bought yourselves as a Christmas gift. How could this be so awful? You had all sorts of entertainment, anything you could need to keep you busy while you waited for these snow days to end. You could be updating your resume, starting the search for a new job. You could be calling Yunho back, and trying to find a way through your conflict. You could be doing yoga, meditating, making soup from scratch, reading, writing, learning a new language...

It all sounded horrible. Your mind was collapsing on you, but this time you're not a kid, this time you don't have a great excuse. You'd let some petty drama taint your every waking moment, and you didn't have anyone to blame but yourself. You were too scared to do the right thing, you could see that now, that back when this conflict had started you'd assumed your boss and everyone else would side with you, just because they already knew you. You'd let Yunho get under your skin, to the point that every word he uttered made you angry, letting him in so deep that there was no way out. Not now. You knew this wouldn't be resolved, because you couldn't do it; you could never admit these things to him that you'd just admitted to yourself. You could never apologize, never acknowledge that you played a part. You'd sat yourself staunchly in a position, the innocent one who'd been wronged time and time again by the aggressor, and stepping down from that pedestal would hurt you more than you thought you could bear.

It was the shame of fucking up. Of not being perfect. A conversation from therapy, from almost ten years ago, ricocheted to the front of your mind. 'You're quite a perfectionist, y/n. Do you realize that? It makes you avoid doing certain things, even if you know they're the right thing to do.' You can still see your old therapist's face, her glasses near the tip of her nose as she eyed you. How could you still be right where your fourteen year old self was? You looked like her too, your skin burning with embarrassment at how you hadn't realized that yourself. It felt humiliating to have to be told, because that in and of itself proved you were imperfect. That you weren't totally and completely self aware. The biggest shame you carried was knowing that despite how hard you tried, you never were very good at knowing yourself. 

You laid face down on your bedroom floor. You didn't have the energy or motivation for anything else. You knew clinically speaking, this looked like the start of a depressive episode. But you hadn't had one in years now and were out of practice. What were you supposed to do now? All that felt okay was sinking more into your head, letting the darkness envelop your mind and take you on a ride through your worst memories, your heart racing despite your complete lack of physical exertion.

By early afternoon you'd had enough of that horrifying roller coaster. When you sat up your neck ached, your body screaming at you to never collapse in that position again. You felt jittery, restless, but nothing at home sounded appealing still, not in the slightest. Your eyes catch on your winter boots in the corner of your room, too big to fit on the shoe rack by the front door. And suddenly your mind is made up in less than a second. It was time to go for a walk, to get out of the house. Maybe the cold air would clear your mind.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab some snacks at Smith's, do you need anything?" you call through Yunji's bedroom door.

"You're going out in this weather?" she asks, opening it.

"The snow let up a lot today, and I'm running low. And I'm feeling too cooped up. It's only five blocks, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Ok, well, I don't think I need anything. I stocked up on Pocky last time we were there. Are we almost out of toilet paper or paper towels?" she asks.

"No, I just checked," you respond.

"Okay. Be careful," she says, smiling.

"I will, I promise," you say before walking toward the front closet, grabbing your big winter coat and zipping it up.

The outside air is a shock as it greets your face, making your cheeks turn pink almost instantly. The world is still bright, the sun shining the warmest it will all day, but you can see darker clouds off in the distance. You hope they aren't moving too fast; there is only a slight breeze in the air, and mostly it's just so quiet, even with a second snow plow heading down your street. It does feel relieving, a least a little, to finally be outside, and a part of you feels proud for actually going out, given how scared you were this morning. You feel like you're maybe proving to yourself that you aren't such a wuss, that you aren't so prone to avoiding things that one day it'll ruin your life. You walk briskly, your nerves buzzing as your heart rate rises to keep you warm.

It feels nice to be buying your favorite snacks, and you're able to get lost in the normalcy of it for a few minutes. The store is almost empty, so you try making light conversation with the one cashier working, his long hair covered in a beanie. Strolling back outside you're met with the chilly air again, a gust of wind nearly knocking you off your feet as you make your way through the small, empty parking lot. You could have sworn you were only in there for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but the sky looks almost completely different now, those dark clouds having descended on your area. You start your way back up the hill, bracing yourself against the growing winds, when the sky lets out a low rumble that shakes you to your bones. Suddenly it's raining, the air warm enough to turn the snow into sleet, and it's soaking your face and your hat and your gloves faster than you can believe. The paper bag holding your snacks is disintegrating in your hand, and you shove it under your coat to try to protect it, the cold bag on your stomach making you shiver.

"Fuck, this was a bad idea," you mutter to yourself, shakily making your way finally into your neighborhood, crossing the street that separates the houses from the row of commercial buildings. Your whole body is shaking, your head turned to the ground as you try to avoid getting sleet in your eyes and try to avoid falling. You're moving much slower than you were on your way to the store, carefully planting your feet one in front of the other as you hold your snacks against your stomach. Your brain feels fuzzy, the wind whipping past your ears, and all you can manage to think is, 'just make it home, just make it home.' It's only about three more blocks, you should be able to make it just fine, if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, if you just keep going, keep goin-

Suddenly someone has grabbed you, your body thrown up like a rag doll, your upper half thrown over their shoulder. You let out a guttural scream, the sound hoarse and weak and getting lost in the storm. You're furiously flailing your legs, wiping the water from your eyes to try to get a look at anything, your lungs heaving as you scream again, this time, "Let me go!!"

The grip on your legs only tightens after your outburst, and then you're hearing a door whooshing open, warmer air greeting you as you enter some house, your eyes able to make out hardwood floors and the large boots of whoever's holding you hostage. You're breathing ragged, trying to get ahold of yourself and figure out where the hell you are, and when you catch a glimpse into the front closet of this house you see those navy blue shoes, with that very unique toe box...

Part 2

Thank you sm for reading! <3

[medstudentblues]

11.20.24

current rotation: psychiatry

currently studying!!! i was from PM duty last night (7pm-7am) and had to stay until 12PM today due to conferences. this is the only thing i hate about being a doctor — the inhumane schedule. i had a take out when i got back, showered, and ate it on bed while i watched game of thrones!!! i fell asleep after. now i’m just studying before i sleep. the cleaning can wait tomorrow.

psych rotation is for recovering, gathering one’s self. perhaps i’ll talk about it more in a post. i want to be more active here despite my schedule (re: study, thoughts on rotations) because i got msgs asking about my rotation and i’m sorry i haven’t replied yet!!! i have just been so insanely busy. i will get to them, yes yes.

but for now i shall study, and maybe watch another game of thrones episode before i sleep!

[sundayiminlove]

sleep, pretty darling [ dallas winston x f!reader ]

synopsis : you're overworking yourself with studying in preparation for exams, and dally isn't havin' it. contains : academic overachiever reader, whipped dallas winston, mostly just tooth-rotting fluff, notes : first writing post on here, kinda (very) nervous!! think i'm gonna make a point to write for each greaser in effort to shoehorn my way into outsiders tumblr?? yeah??? okay, GREAT. 99% chance i post something different for dal tho. just a messy, silly little drabble. ironically wrote after not sleeping for 32 hours. i'm sorry if he's a lil ooc y'all, this is my first dal fic in give or take a year!!! he'll get there, i promise! mwah mwah hope u enjoy warnings : not proofread, we die like dally

i.

PALE BLUE EYES slant sideways, casting a brief look at you.

Your nose is scrunched in concentration over the comically large textbook laid open in your lap. You're hunched over, tracing under each printed word with your finger, thumbing down when you stop to take a note.

Dallas is preemptively annoyed. He's been leaning expectantly against the doorframe circa ten seconds ago, and you're yet to notice him. He takes one last dramatic drag from his cigarette before begrudgingly discarding it on the outsole of his shoe. The creases on on your nose tighten as you catch a whiff of the wafting smoke. Though a vehement anti-smoker yourself, you've spent enough time around the gang to guarantee your lungs at least a permanent char. Despite this, you always just have to make a big song and dance of your distaste for them, and Dally does nothing to curb the quirk of his lips into a slight grin.

You have him, hook line and sinker.

"(Y/N)," he speaks at last. His tone is firm yet without underlying aggression; one exclusively for your ears.

You perk up.

Dallas' fingers splay against his lips as if holding a phantom cigarette. "What're you doin' over here so late, huh? Was out lookin' for you."

He watches as your gaze darts to the window. Nightfall has long since kissed the apex of Tulsa, yet you hadn't a clue. You'd been there for hours, crunching equations and fruitlessly jotting down formulas. The encroaching weight of finals week had rendered both your circadian rhythm and measure of passing time nugatory.

"Borrowin' one of Darry's old textbooks," you explain, the corners of your mouth tugging into a frown. "Not exactly a monastery but it beats that old Soc-infested library, long as Two stays gone, that is."

He crosses the Curtis' living room in four smooth strides, plopping down next to you on the couch. The flimsy cushion sinks beneath him, forcing you closer to him, and for once, Dally's grateful for the pathetic old thing's lack of structural integrity.

He lifts the textbook, ignoring your whimper of protest and sets it on the coffee table. He spins the silver band on his knuckle, averting his gaze downwards. "You know, sweetheart," he pauses, choosing his words. Dally wears his worry uniquely, sparingly. "I'm not particularly likin' all of these.. these books, and.." he trails off, thumb tracing your newly-formed eyebag as if he could swipe it clean. "When's the last time you got any sleep?"

Things are different. You're his girl now. And not just his pretty skirt for the night and until 7am after; no, this is serious. You're his girlfriend. His lover. It's foreign. It's enthralling.

No one had told poor Dallas that falling for you would unwind a deep vortex in his brain that noticed the trivial things, like how suspiciously little you blinked or how the vibrant pink in your cheeks had drained.

You lean into his touch with an exasperated sigh. "Dally, c'mon, don't you start this. I know it's nothin' to you, but it's finals week!" you huff. "I'll catch up on the sleep, swear it! I just, I got so much left to do here, and,"

Your defense falls on deaf ears. This has been it for weeks now; and the you-sized hole burning in his chest is only getting deeper. Dally's arms encircle your waist as he taps gently on the small of your back. "Don't give me that," he sighs. "God, baby, you're worryin' me, alright? Don't like seeing my girl so..." he fans his hand outwards.

As you tense and start to fly into another excuse, he shakes his head, mind already made. He's sparing no more of your attention. "You're comin' back to Buck's with me, alright?" His timbre leaves no room for argument, but you squirm regardless. His grip on you tightens. "And I'm making sure you get some goddamn rest."

You pout, looking over at your textbook as if it would personify and save you. "But," you start, only to be hastily shushed.

"But nothin', doll. C'mon, up ya go,"

With that, he scoops you up, one arm hooking around your legs. Your series of half-hearted protests are nullified as he secures you into Buck's old truck, movements careful yet hasty. You inevitably surrender, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you lean back into the torn leather.

BUCK MERRIL'S HOUSE is as quiet as Buck Merril's house is capable of being. You've never been to Buck Merril's house, so you don't find it very quiet at all.

Running his hands over the blanket, Dallas spreads it out on the floor, smoothening out the crinkles and corners. They reform almost immediately and he sighs heavily, airing it out on the pummeled mattress in defeat. If he would have know he'd be conducting a full-scale kidnapping for the sake of your rest, he might have better prepared. Might have.

So, here's the thing, right?"

There have been girls in Dallas Winston's bed before.

There have been quite a few girls in Dallas Winston's bed before.

There have been zero girls in Dallas Winston's bed that he didn't bring into it with meaningless sex on the horizons.

You're no snob and he knows this, but now, it's the principle. Dallas Winston may sleep on a mattress deficient of ample springs and no top sheet, but Dallas Winston's girl should never. In spite his hazy, rose-colored, Y/N-centric world created under this roof, he knows he has to step it up.

As soon as he hears the faucet cut off, he's off his feet. He flings himself onto the mattress, hitching one leg up as he awaits the slow creek of the door.

And there you stand.

Dallas wonders what karmic debt is being paid off for him to deserve to see you like this. His lips part as he drinks in the sight of you like a man dying of thirst. You, in his lightly wrinkled grey tee that scarcely conceals your bare thighs. Your face glistens with renew, a few stray droplets racing down your forehead and cheeks. Even trammeled by exhaustion, you knock the wind right out of him.

You wear the moonlight beautifully. It traces each feature so delicately as you sit beside him on the bed. "I'm—," you start, but pause to let a little yawn. He practically melts beside you.

"I'm sorry I gave you such a tough time, darlin'," you continue, situating under the blanket. "You were right, I'm proper beat."

He smirks, propping his head up to look down on you. "As always," he notes, tucking a fly-away hair behind your ears. You roll your eyes and give him a playful jab, to which he winces in mock affliction. "Some nerve," he hums, thumb tracing your cheek.

You look at him, lips parting gently. This isn't Dallas Winston; that infamous, no-good hoodlum from the wrong side of the tracks. This is your Dally, someone you alone have the absolute pleasure of knowing.

"That's it," he whispers as you surrender to his side, nuzzling his neck. Your eyes are heavy, faltering by the second, yet your grip on him is unyielding. He's never felt a thing like this before, and he's quickly becoming putty in your careful arms. He's content to lay awake all night, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as slumber claims you.

His gangly fingers trace idly on your back, and he knows. He will never be the same.

[runningincircl3s]

Blood Sport

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Chapter One

chapter warnings: none!

since i posted a chapter of sinematic last night i thought it would only be fair to post this chapter early too!! (also because this one's a little slow, but things really start in the next chapter which will be out on friday AND IM SO EXCITED <3 trust the process!!)

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

It was finally the evening before your flight to LA, the months passed by in the blink of an eye so you were now panicking as you started packing at the last minute.

However, it wasn’t just the packing you were panicking about, or the fact you would inevitably be seeing Noah again. 

It was the notice you received through your door a few days ago. 

An eviction notice. 

At first you thought it was a mistake, you’d never been behind on your rent, never did anything wrong. But as you read it you saw it was because they were going to be doing some serious repairs to the whole apartment building, and they didn’t know how long it would take. 

You had until the end of the month to find somewhere to go, and with no friends who live nearby to stay with, no savings to put a deposit down on a new place, you were sure you’d be homeless by the end of the month. 

The only hope you had was that Bryan would have a solution, yet you hated having to fall back and rely on him when your life turned to shit. He had his own life to live, his own problems to face. You shouldn’t have to depend on him, but you were both always there to help each other out in times like these. That's what best friends were for after all.

By the time you had finally finished packing it was well past midnight, and the weight of exhaustion was beginning to settle in. Still, your mind refused to quiet down. Every time you shut your eyes, thoughts of tomorrow, of seeing them again, of seeing him, crept in like unwelcome guests.

What would he say if he saw you? Would he even say anything? Would he even look at you?

Was he doing okay? Was he coping better than you? What did he look like now? 

Was there still a chance at mending things?

You rolled onto your side, staring at the dim glow of your phone on the nightstand. As you checked it, you were met with an empty notification bar, like usual. For a moment, you wondered what he would do if your name popped up on his phone, would he reply? What would he think? What would he do? Was he waiting for it the way you were waiting for him?

Eventually, exhaustion won. Your eyes finally fell shut, and you drifted into another dreamless sleep. 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The sound of your alarm blaring suddenly jolted you awake.

Your heart lurched as you scrambled for your phone, your brain still sluggish from sleep. The screen read 7am, and your flight was only a few hours away

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit-”

You shot out of bed, nearly tripping over your suitcase as you stumbled into the bathroom. There was no time for breakfast, no time for anything except throwing on the first semi-clean outfit you could find and shoving your last-minute essentials into your bag.

By the time you managed to get out the door and into a cab, your hands were still shaking from the sheer panic and rush of the morning.

The ride to the airport was a blur of checking the time every thirty seconds and internally cursing yourself for not waking up earlier. When you finally arrived, you bolted through security, barely making it to your gate before final boarding was called.

You boarded the plane and collapsed into your seat, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. 

It was only when the plane took off that the realisation truly hit that you were going back to all those familiar faces, back to your old friends. You felt sick with nerves, but there was absolutely no turning back now. 

The flight was long, but you barely noticed. Between the occasional in-flight announcement and the quiet conversations around you, your mind kept looping back to the same thought.

Would he be there?

It was stupid to think so. You knew Matt would be the one picking you up, he had already confirmed it. But a small, foolish part of you still held onto the possibility. That maybe, just maybe, Noah would be there too.

But then again, why would he? What reason did he have, unless it was to force you turn back around and go home.

Did he even know you were coming?

When the plane touched down in LA, nerves settled deep in your stomach. You grabbed your carry-on, your legs feeling slightly unsteady as you stepped off the plane and made your way through the terminal, collecting your suitcase. 

And then, just like before

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped up.

“Matt!” 

There he stood, arms crossed, that familiar grin on his face, and that hat that never seemed to leave his head.

He looked the same. A little more tanned, maybe. A little more relaxed. But he was still the same Matt.

"Great to see you again." He smiled.

"I've missed you!" Relief flooded through you, and before you could think twice, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

“Missed you too.” Matt chuckled, hugging you back.

You let out a breath, pulling away.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing your suitcase. “I'll show you to the car.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The drive from the airport was spent in a comfortable quiet when the two of you weren’t chatting, it almost felt like no time had passed at all, like nothing had happened. Matt had always been good at that, making things feel normal even when they weren’t.

“Folio’s gonna be stoked to see you,” he said, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel at a red light. “He wouldn’t shut up about it when I told him you were coming.”

That made you smile. You had missed him too.

“He’s going to make me go on that stupid fishing trip isn’t he?” You chuckled. 

“Yep.” Matt grinned, before glancing over at you, his expression softening. “Are you nervous?”

“Well, I’ve never been fishing before so I don’t know what to expect, maybe-”

“Not that…” Matt chuckled, “I meant seeing him.”

You hesitated for a second, staring out the window.

“A little.”

“You’ll be fine,” he assured you. “I mean, it’s not like you murdered his dog or something.”

You snorted. 

“Just his heart.”

Matt winced. 

“Okay, well, when you put it like that…”

The silence that followed was brief but heavy. You knew Matt didn’t like to pick sides, he didn’t want to be caught in the middle of something that wasn’t his business, and as much as he cared about you, Noah was his best friend.

"So, I've heard different stories, but what actually happened that night?"

You took a deep breath, but as soon as you thought back to that night, it was as if you were reliving it all over again.

“I... I can explain…” You stuttered. 

“Oh, you can?” Noah raised his eyebrows, looking down at you with an expression you had never seen on him before, “What the fuck is there to explain?!”

“But…”

“No!” He shouted, and you could see his eyes fill with tears, “I knew it all along. I fucking knew it!" He scoffed, a humourless laugh falling from his lips, "You’ve been lying to me. For three goddamn months?! And this is how I find out?!"

There was nothing you could do, nothing you could say.

"And you had the fucking audacity to tell me you loved me last night? Was that just a lie too? Huh?”

“No!” You sobbed, covering your mouth with your hand, “I was going to tell V-”

“I don’t care. I don't fucking care! I trusted you. Y/n, I trusted you. You know exactly how my last relationship ended, and you still do this to me? If that isn’t the biggest fuck you then I don’t know what is.” 

“Can I please have a chance to explain-”

“No! Nothing you can do or say will fix the fact that you’ve been screwing him the entire time we’ve been together!”

“Hey,” Angela piped up, “The two of you were never actually together.”

“That’s not the point, and stay out of this, this is between us." Noah points at you, "You have told me time and time again that there was nothing going on between you and Vin, you were insisting you were just friends, but you were just lying straight to my face! The both of you! I was stupid enough to believe you because I loved you!” 

“Noah, I was scared!” You cry, “It wasn't meant to happen and then... I couldn't stop and... I was scared I’d lose you if you found out! I didn't want-” 

“So I wasn’t good enough for you?” He scoffed, throwing his head back in anger, running a shaky hand through his hair, “I wasn’t enough?”

“No! Noah, please, can we go somewhere else and talk about this?”

“No. You’ve said enough. You've done enough.” He said, shaking his head. You watch a stray tear roll down his cheek, and you feel your heart break into a million pieces. “We’re done, whatever we are, whatever you thought we were, it’s over. I’ve spent years protecting myself from this, because this isn’t the first time I’ve been lied to like this, and you know it. I can’t believe you.”

And with that, he took his keys and left. You wanted to chase him out, follow him and apologise, but your legs wouldn't take you, leaving you to cry your heart out in Angela’s arms.

Judging by your silence, Matt apologised, assuming it was still a sore topic even months down the line.

“Y’know, Folio’s moved! He's staying with Noah at the moment.”

“He is?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, he’s looking to get his own place, so it’s just a temporary fix for now, but they’ve just adopted a cat so I don’t see him moving out anytime soon.” 

“Really,” you chuckled, “I didn’t see Folio as the cat type.”

“I don’t think they were even supposed to get him, but then Noah saw his name was Tommy and he couldn’t resist. They keep talking about getting more, naming them Arthur, Michael and John.”

“They’re naming them after the peaky blinders?” You snorted, “That’s the most Noah thing I think I’ve ever heard.” 

It wasn’t too long before Matt pulled into the driveway of his house. He took your suitcase and led you through his home, giving you a quick tour as he walked you down to the room where you would be staying for the week.

The guest room was tucked away at the end of the hall. It wasn’t big, but it was definitely cozy. There was a small bed, a dresser and a TV on the wall, so what more could you ask for?

“If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask,” Matt said, setting your suitcase down. “Make yourself at home!"

“Thanks, Matt.” You said sincerely.

He gave you a nod. 

“You should get some rest, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

You didn’t argue, because he was right. 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You didn’t know what to expect when Matt said he’d let you stay with him whilst you were in LA, but your day had been quite pleasant. 

You woke up around 8, took a shower and unpacked your suitcase before Alyson came in to tell you they were going to go out for lunch, their last lunch together before the wedding, so you would be left home alone.

You didn’t mind this, but there was one person whose company you craved. So you gave him a call, asking if he wanted to come over.

“Y/n!” Folio beamed, his arms wrapping around you, your feet lifting off the ground as he gave you the most intense hug you’ve had in a while. 

“Nick!” You laughed, “Put me down!” 

He apologised, and you stepped aside to let him come in. 

“How have you been?” He asked as he followed you into the living room. 

“Eh, I’ve been okay,” you say, taking a seat on the sofa, “I’ve missed you, and all the guys.” 

“Noah?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You gave him a look and he understood, noting not to talk about him again. 

“Sorry,” he said, “Have you… y’know… gotten back out there? Gone on any dates?”

“Uh… No not really, I haven’t felt like it.” 

“No?... Me either.” He sighed, “It’s hard trying to move on when you’ve still got feelings and you know they haven’t- I’m not speaking for Noah here but, y’know. It’s been over a year since my ex left, and I still don’t feel like trying again.” 

“I know what you mean.” You frowned, “It’s going to be tough seeing him tomorrow. If I don’t turn up you’ll know why.” You chuckled, but Folio knew there was a seriousness to it. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he reassured you, “You don’t even have to talk to him. You’re sitting with me!”

“I am?” You smiled. 

“Yeah!”

“Well that’s a relief,” you smiled, “...So Matt told me you’ve got a cat.” 

“Oh, Tommy!” He reached into his pocket, pulling his phone out to show you a picture of his black and white cat.

“Awh, he’s adorable!” 

“He’s a little bitch,” Folio scoffed, “Don’t let that cute little face deceive you!” 

You laughed, but then something in your chest made you ask the question you were dreading the answer to. 

“So… How’s Noah been?” 

“...Not too good.” Folio confessed, “He’s doing a lot better now, but when we finally got back from the tour last year I don’t think he talked to any of us for a couple months, and then when he did it was because he had a song he needed us for. He was barely eating, barely sleeping, so that’s why I moved in, I couldn’t let him spiral. Not alone!”

“But he’s okay now though, right?”

“Yeah he’s doing great now,” he nodded, “So I’ve been thinking about moving out, but it’s so expensive out here!”

“Hey, why don’t we look together?” You suggested, an idea sparking in your brain, “I got an eviction notice the other day, I need to be out by the end of the month. I have nowhere else to go, I don’t have much money saved…” 

“Yeah!” He grinned, “That’ll be sick! It’ll almost be like the old days when all the guys lived together!” 

“Are you sure?” You smiled, “I don’t want you to think you have to live with me. I just need to get out of my place as soon as possible-” 

“No, I think it’ll be great! It’ll be fun!” 

“But then who’ll custody of Tommy? You or Noah?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck!” 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

It was now the evening, Matt and Alyson came back after lunch, but she left again not long after to go to the hotel she was staying at with her bridesmaids to get ready for the wedding.

This left you, Matt, Folio and Bryan (who had come over as soon as he found out you were there) at Matt’s house. 

“Are you nervous?” You ask Matt out of the blue, turning your head away from the show playing on the TV.

“I’m shitting myself.” He laughed, “But I’m excited.” 

“It’s just a wedding!” Bryan said from the other couch, taking a sip of his drink.

“Have you ever got married before, Bry?” Matt raised an eyebrow, “All the months of planning, organising, booking, this day’s been put on some kind of pedestal and now it’s actually here- almost.”

“I’m so excited for you,” you smiled, your hand reaching Matt’s, “I’ve never known two people to be so right for each other.” 

As soon as Folio opened his mouth, you knew you weren't going to like what he was about to say.

“What about you and N-” 

You stopped him mid sentence, giving him a hard stare, and he quickly shut up, his attention turning back to the TV.

That's what I thought.

...

Across town, Noah was sat with Ruffilo, watching an old show in the living room, but Noah wasn’t really paying attention to the TV. His mind kept drifting back to tomorrow. To the wedding.

Nicholas could sense that something was off, and he had a pretty good idea of what- or rather, who- was on Noah’s mind.

"Everything okay?" Ruffilo asked, leaning back on the couch, his eyes glancing at Noah, picking up on the unease.

Noah snapped out of his thoughts and turned to face him.

"Yeah, just thinking."

There was a long pause. Noah wasn’t sure how to phrase the question that had been gnawing at him all night. Finally, he asked, his voice a little quieter than usual, hesitant as if the answer might change everything.

"Is she going to be there tomorrow?"

Ruffilo immediately knew who Noah meant. The question hung heavy in the air, but he wasn’t sure if it would be the right thing to tell Noah. He didn’t want him to back out of the wedding if he knew you were going to be there.

"I’m not sure," Nicholas said, carefully choosing his words. "Matt hasn’t said anything."

Noah nodded slowly, exhaling deeply, and returned his gaze to the TV. His mind was elsewhere, but the question still lingered.

Suddenly, the living room door opened, and their attention was drawn elsewhere.

"Babe, I finally picked up my dress for your friends wedding tomorrow, wanna see?"

Noah sighed, hesitating before nodding his head, getting up from the couch to follow Amy up the stairs.

But even as he watched his girlfriend try on her dress, his mind was still on somebody else.

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

@bloody-spades @death-ofpeace-ofmind @miss570 @dominuslunae @dontwantthemoney @amelia-acero @noahslutbastian @blade-dressed-in-red @super-btstrash-posts @kait16xo @oobleoob @sunshine-lvrr

this is still a new taglist so if i forgot you (IM SORRY) or you want to be added please just let me know!!

[trumpkinhotboy]

I'll keep an eye on you - II

pairing: jacob black x reader

type: not requested

genre: bit angsty and fluffy

warnings: none

word count: 3400

requests: open! for twilight wolfpack, narnia, heartstopper

a/n: hope you enjoy this lil part 2 !! also I really want to thank @tgarrett26 for helping me with this fic (you are awesome) + they are the reason there is even a pt.2 hehe

part I part III

*gif is not mine

summary: After one night of respite, the reader confronts the day to realize the shadows haven't quite disappeared yet.

There's a timid sunbeam lighting up your cozy little room. Nothing scary or menacing in view. You look over to your nightstand with barely opened eyes to see your mushroom light still on. The clock on your desk shines the time. 7:00am. 

7am?!

You sit straight up, immediately noticing the big dent on the left side of your bed. Yes, of course, Jacob came in last night. Your cheeks flush with the thought of having slept so soundly next to the heaping mountain of muscles that is your friend. You feel so confused and well-rested. For the first time in a few weeks, you awoke calmly. This might have been the best night of sleep of your whole damn life, and it's 7:00am! You managed to wake up before your alarm. You wouldn't have to be rushing to school for once. You were usually only able to fall asleep when the sun started shining and chased away the threatening shadows of the night. So, being late to school was a recurring occurrence for you. For once, your father wouldn't have to come in to try and wake you up. You were pushing away your blankets to get up when there was a knock on your door before it slowly cracked open.

"Sweetheart, time to wake up. Don't want to be late for sch-"

Your father's traits lifted up in surprise, and honestly, you couldn’t really blame the man. You didn't keep track of all the mornings he found you all tangled up in your blankets, hair sprawled everywhere like a bird's nest, saliva drooling down your chin.

"Did you sleep well?"

You nodded eagerly, a sincere smile spreading on your lips. Charlie seemed incredibly thrilled by that piece of news. He was no stranger to the nightmares haunting your nights and was brokenhearted to see you so tired and on edge all the time.

"Well, then. Better get down and eat breakfast before you head to school." He gave you a timid smile before softly closing your door.

You had your first breakfast with your dad in a long time. He was particularly chirpy, and you kept catching his relieved gaze. You left for school on time and had a really great day. You felt awake and energized. Participating in class and your little social circle once again felt like a rush. Your efforts were welcomed with gigantic smiles from your teachers and friends. For a second, you thought the weeks of anguish and terror might finally be behind you. Maybe a night with Jacob had been the only thing you needed to put this whole thing behind you. However, as the sun went down and shadows stretched on the ground, you got more flinchy and twitchy. Once more, you turned at every odd sound, looking over your shoulder as you left the school grounds. You almost ran to your car, locking all the doors, and left a trail of dust with how fast you headed back home on the powdery roads of Forks. 

Dinner with your father was much more somber than the breakfast you shared this morning. You felt like a dagger to your heart, his disappointment when he saw you jump as he caught you by surprise in the kitchen. You usually were always careful about hiding your internal conflict from Charlie. Yet the frustration you felt tonight weighed much more than the want to hide everything from him.

Once dinner was over, you climbed the stairs with heavy steps, feeling the dread in your body get worse the closer you got to your bedroom. You opened the door to find a space very different than the one you had left when you awoke this morning. Your still unmade bed didn't feel so inviting tonight. Long gone were the rays of sunshine that scared the shadows away. The room you faced was now dark and gloomy. Nothing about it felt safe or secure.

You rushed in to turn on your mushroom light and sat on your bed, trying to summon all your courage to breathe calmly. 

It's over now. Nightmares are just that. They aren't real. I'm safe now.

No matter how much you would repeat it, those words felt empty and fake. You got up, put your pajamas on, and as you were ready to get in bed, you noticed a piece of clothing jutting out from under one of the pillows. You lifted it up to find the T-shirt you lent to Jacob. He didn't keep it. He left your house shirtless so you could keep the stupid piece of clothing. You grabbed it and held it up to your nose. Immediately, your senses were overpowered by his woodsy scent. You fell to your bed, shirt still pressed on your face as you let a deep sigh leave your lungs.

Grabbing your phone on the night table, you hesitated. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard before you closed the device and threw it away.

The clock had just struck midnight when you heard something scratching outside. You almost had a heart attack when you saw Jacob hanging onto your window, motioning for you to open it.

"Jacob Black. What the hell are you doing? Do you want to kill me?!"

Your tall friend let out a deep chuckle as he swiftly stepped into your room without making a noise. His gaze fell onto the fort you had built yourself. There were pillows and blankets lined all around your bed, a very feeble attempt at a barrier. The tv screen was paused on one of your favorite movie. He gave you a worried look and took a second to really take in the state you were in. You didn't look like the relaxed girl he had, reluctantly, left in a peaceful slumber this morning.

"What?" you defensively crossed your arms on your chest, already sensing where this conversation would be going.

"What are you doing?" he quietly asked, his head slightly leaning on one side.  

"I was watching a movie." 

You immediately saw a shadow pass in his dark eyes and felt a familiar pain ring in your chest. You couldn't live with disappointing both your father and Jacob. Worse, you couldn't live with the pity in their eyes. If only the bad dreams could stay away. 

"What are you doing," you finally asked, a bit more roughly than you had intended.

He hesitated, sensing you had been offended in some way. "I just did a quick run around the perimeter, but then I saw the light open and just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Your expression softened at the concern painted on his handsome face. Fear did make you more on edge, but you knew Jacob had done nothing to deserve that anger. You sighed before plopping down on your bed.

"That's very nice of you, but I am okay. I just didn't feel tired yet." 

You felt adamant about telling him of the return of the paranoia. You were already so disappointed in yourself. You couldn't even muster the bravery to be in your room alone at night. What would it even do if you told him the truth? It felt so shameful to ask again for his help, to ask him to watch over you while you were sleeping. Just because, like a child, you were afraid of the dark and the beasts it hid. You were instantly relieved when he gave you a suspicious glance as if he might believe your lie. You gave him your best smile, trying to prove how relaxed you were. You only wanted to chase the worries away from his chocolate eyes. 

That could have worked if only the sound of your house creaking under a strong gust of wind and a branch scratching on your window hadn't made you flinch so damn hard. 

Jacob's gaze hardened over your tense figure. You expected him to make a comment, to confront you. As you waited anxiously for the ax to drop, he finally walked over to your bed, sat, and pointed to your television.

"May I join you then?"

You initiated him to one of your best comfort movies. It required absolutely no brain power and just helped you feel better. Always a good player, Jake obliged and even seemed to enjoy it. When you were done, you spent another hour just chatting about nothing and everything. You tried hiding your clock from his sight and hoped he wouldn't notice time flying away, but sadly, there wasn't much your figure could hide from his wolfish sight.

"It's getting late. I should probably go," He muttered after an hour of mindless chatting. His dark eyes fixed on your features, you faced each other, forearms tucked under your head while you lay on your side. You couldn't help your shoulders and jaw from tensing up at his words. The happiness and carelessness he had brought you vanished as if it never occurred. Fear crept up in your belly at the thought of being alone in the dark again. 

You gave him a tight smile as you nodded. He hesitantly got up, giving you another weird look. You barely registered it, too focused on avoiding falling into a panicked state. He walked to the window, and as you thought he was about to leave, he turned around on a whim.

"I really don't understand you. Even in this state, you won't ask for my help?" 

His outburst surprised you and unintentionally made you recoil at the swift motion. He sighed deeply, "Please don't look at me like this. I want to understand. Why don't you want my help?" he repeated, annoyance rippling in waves from his body.

"I- I'm not sure what you're talking about," you responded, determined to hang on to the shred of dignity you had left.

He let out a sarcastic laugh. It was dry and reeked of disdain towards this fluke you were trying to fool him with. "Stop playing Y/n. You reek of fear." 

His words were like a punch in the gut. You felt shame hitting you as you realized how stupid you had been. 

"See? Your reaction only confirms what I already knew. What I don't understand is why you insist on facing this alone. You can always call me, and I will always come through for you. Have I not proven that?" 

"You did, but it's not your responsibility to fix me. To fix this."

"Not my responsibility?" he scoffed. He turned around while dragging his hand through his hair. He was a mix of so many emotions you couldn't pinpoint what was brewing in his brain. He stayed silent for so long that you thought he would leave you like this. You were about to add something when he raised his voice. "I would give everything to go back to that night. To be there by your side. Maybe you wouldn't have to go through that, or at least I would have been the one to rip to shreds that bloodsucker." Flames of rage danced in his eyes while you stood speechless, gawking at him. 

You were at a loss for words. You had seen Jake in many different states in your friendship, but he never looked so conflicted. Anger and sadness seemed to be battling out the right to overpower him. For a rare moment, he looked incredibly vulnerable. He was back to being that innocent teenager you had always known. You approached, unsure whether that would make him lash out, but he stayed put, his eyes fixed on the ground. You knew Jacob felt responsible for what happened to you. What you didn't know is that he tortured himself with it. Your heart ached at the thought, and any frustration you had felt up to this point melted.

Softly, you grabbed his hand. "Jacob, look at me."

When he finally turned around and lifted his gaze, tears hung on to the line of his long lashes. The sight of it made your throat close up. 

"Why won't you let me care for you," he whispered, inches from you. 

His gaze was so deep and carried a tsunami of emotions. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed his face. Both of your hands cradled his soft and warm skin. You saw goosebumps creep up his muscled arms, mirroring the one on yours. Bringing his forehead to your own, you took a deep breath.

"I don't want to be a burden."

Saying the words that'd been ringing in your head for so long felt almost exhilarating while also being incredibly relieving. Contrary to the belief of your messed up head, the world didn't end or break in two once the thought left your lips. 

"I've always thought you were such an incredible person and couldn't help but always want to be better for you. Ever since you phased, that feeling only got more intense. You've evolved so much in the past few months, and I'm still old me. When I got attacked, it was the most horrible experience of my life, but it also reinforced that concept. I couldn't even walk from yours to Emily's cabin without being attacked. The boys had to risk their lives to save me. I didn't even get one scratch, and still, I'm afraid of the dark. I'm afraid to sleep alone. I'm afraid if I let my guard down for one second... it'll happen again. Which means that I'll either die or be a burden for you guys once more because I can't even defend myself against something like that. You're already so good to me. I don't want to add this to your list of things to worry about." 

Your eyes stayed closed even after you finished and controlled your breathing again. Saying it aloud was incredible, but to open your eyes to face his reaction felt nerve-racking. You were about to when a strong pair of arms wrapped around you. 

"You are not and will never be a burden to me." His tone was soft and felt a little strangled. In your dimly lit little room, while the rest of the world was in a peaceful slumber, Jacob's words felt like the only thing that mattered.

He pulled back after a moment but still held you close. "I don't know what gave you the impression that you were a burden. If it ever was something I did, I want to apologize."

"I remember so vividly the look on your face when the boys brought me back to the cabin. You had the same disappointed expression as you have just now. I promise I'm trying to heal as fast I can, but this... this is harder than I thought it would be."

Confusion was now the only emotion on his face, clear as day. "Disappointed? Y/n, I never was disappointed. It was the worst, terrifying, shit your pants kind of fear I've ever felt. It's agony to know you're so ridden with fear. I was disappointed to learn that tonight was still hard for you, not because I think you're not healing fast enough, but because I hoped I finally helped you feel better. I feel so bad you have to live with these memories for your whole life. I just wish I could make them disappear." 

That's when you understood the slim difference between disappointment and defeat. One was channeled towards you, and the other wasn't. For Jacob, it had always been directed at himself.

"Jacob, you're the only one who makes me breathe a little easier. You're the only reason I slept soundly last night." A new light illuminated his eyes. You steadied yourself before you continued, your tone slightly hushed. "You've always had that specific calming effect on me. You're the only person who makes things better for me. Ever since we were kids. I have always felt safe with you. You're like my personal haven." 

It felt like a big thing to say, but you wanted that sadness to leave his face. You wanted his eyes to be filled with light again, and somehow, it felt right to tell him about all this. He spent so much time worrying about everything and everyone. He deserved to know how appreciated he was. He deserved to know what he meant to you.

Emotion thickened the air. So much so that it felt like you couldn't breathe just right. Your hands slid from his cheeks delicately. You placed one at the nape of his neck while the other grabbed the top of his hair. "Jake, I don't think you even understand how much you mean to me."

Time stood still for a moment. Your eyes focused on each other, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.

 "Y/n, I-" his eyes held something heavier. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something before deciding better of it. It almost looked like it cost him to try and get the words out. He gave up in a huff, and whatever was in his gaze, whatever he thought about, vanished. Some part of you wanted to push him, to ask, but tonight had been a rollercoaster enough. You could let it go for now. He pulled you in for another hug before releasing you a little.

"So, now that we've established that you are not a burden." he started softly.

"And that this is in no way your fault," you added with a grin. 

He rolled his eyes, "Uhm. Can you tell me what you actually need? I can stay here with you if you want."

You felt a pang of your old fears scratch at your heart, but you let them all go in one breath. "I would very much like that."

You tucked yourselves in bed for the second night in a row. You hesitated to turn off the light, but always so observant, Jacob assured you it didn't bother him to keep it open. You lay side by side in silence. You were focused on becoming familiar with the ordinary and hazardous sounds an old house made at night when Jacob started to whisper.

"I know you think you aren't as fearless as us, but I can assure you everyone in our tribe thinks you are the bravest person they've ever met. Not many people would feel comfortable hanging out with a bunch of new werewolves." 

"Brave or totally crazy," you added while making a wicked-looking face. His eyes disappeared in his bright smile, and you wished you could snap a picture of it. 

"No, but really, you're the only one who stayed by my side all throughout my phasing process. No matter how dangerous it was for you. If that's not the definition of bravery, I don't know what is." He turned pensive again while his gaze darkened.

You unwillingly recalled the phasing process of Jacob. All the terrible memories flashed before your eyes. His screams of pain still rang in your ears. You remember distinctly every time you wished to take his place. If you could have taken away some of his pain, you would have in an instant. The least you could do was stay by his side no matter what. You had to fight with Billy and the rest of the pack, but in the end, even they couldn't keep you away. No one could have.

You slid into his arms, and his body tensed under the new touch before quickly relaxing to envelop you in a tight embrace. 

"I would never leave you alone," you mumbled in his chest. "I know you like to have this strong and impressive appearance, but inside, you're still the same little Jacob I've always known. I know you need me."

You lightly pressed your lips onto his chest and nuzzled farther into him. Fireworks were exploding in the boy's chest as he returned the gesture with a kiss on your head.

"And Jake?"

"Uhm?"

"Don't think I didn't notice you wanted to tell me something important earlier. For tonight, it's okay, but we'll have to talk about that."

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Headcanons about the svd and sve Bachelor(ette)s discovering the farmer will always sleep until the next day 6am on the dot no matter what?

Bc finding out your spouse will is both capable of sleeping from 1am to 6am and 7am to next day 6am and passing out in the mountains to 6am must be real fun to find out.

If that hasn't been done yet please and maybe thank you <3

Agree, a situation where your spouse can't be woken up before 6am is pretty funny and a good source for a funny headcanon (or even angst). Which, by the way, while writing it gave me another funny thought (maybe I'll write it in the future) - what if we switch roles? Because all bachelors/ettes go to bed at exactly 10 p.m., and you can't get them up again until the next day...

"Hey, Elliott, do you want to watch a movie or do something... more interesting?~"

"Of course, my love, we can-"

*10:00 p.m.*

"Zzzzzzz...."

"....Seriously, Elliott? Elliott?"

Oh well, I got distracted.... 😅 Anyway, thanj you so much for the ask, dear anon! ❤️

_________________________________________

Stardew Valley:

Harvey:

Harvey is already often at the doctor's mode every time he catches his spouse with serious wounds after their adventures, and now there's a new cause for concern. In addition to the fact that Farmer will not wake up before 6 a.m. under any circumstances (which is already a cause for concern, because what if they are somewhere far away, in forest for example?), the fact that because of this peculiarity Harvey's spouse will suffer from either sleep deprivation or oversleeping. And in both cases it has a negative impact on health. That's why the doctor will remind Farmer to go to bed on time and not to overload themself with farm work.

Shane:

Shane didn't pay attention to Farmer's habit at first, because either Shane couldn't get up that early (okay from 7 a.m., but 6 a.m.? Nah...) or he left Farmer to sleep further if he got up earlier than them, because they worked hard and they needed rest, and he went to make breakfast/feed the chickens. Although the moment when his spouse lay down on the couch to take a nap at noon and woke up with 6am the next day already, Shane freaked out, because holy shit he already thought they were sick or worse. Does this have some kind of bad effect on Farmer's health? No? If it's ok, Shane will get used to not being able to wake his spouse up before 6 in the morning pretty quickly.

Elliott:

Farmer got up from the bed and headed toward the kitchen, waiting for their husband Elliott by the coffee machine. But the kitchen was empty, which was odd, since Elliott didn't usually start the morning without cappuccino. Just when they were about to assume where the writer was going, their ginger spouse kicked the door and ran into the house... with Harvey and Maru? "This way, doctor, hurry! Farmer's not feeling well, they won't wake up and they need help right away- Oh..." False alarm... But honestly, Harvey will confirm Elliott's concern: it's really weird that Farmer is in no way awake to all of Elliott's futile attempts. The writer and Farmer will listen to a couple of doctor's advice and get a prescription for some medication. Elliott will make sure his dear spouse goes to bed early so they don't get sleep deprivation and its attendant problems.

Sam:

"Babe. Babe. Baaaaaaabe. Are you awake? Hon. Babe-" Sam had been shaking Farmer for probably ten minutes, but to the musician's surprise, his spouse was sleeping the dead sleep. Which made him a little worried, because.... They don't wake up at all, and- Oh! Farmer mumbled something in their sleep, so at least they're okay. "Babe. Wake up, please. Babe. Baaaaabe-" Though such a deep sleep was still stressing Sammy out a little bit. After half an hour, Farmer stopped making any sounds at all, but as soon as the six a.m. alarm clock went off, Farmer abruptly opened his eyes. "Good morning, Sammy~" "I thought you were dead." "Wha...?" Well, Farmer would agree with their spouse - If the roles were reversed, they'd be worried too.

Alex:

Tired, Farmer wrapped themself in a blanket on the couch and fell asleep at 4:00 p.m. Alex, who found them in such a position, left the kiss and went to prepare dinner for two. The food was ready, and the athlete went to wake up his spouse. Woke him up for about ten minutes, no effect. From that he started calling Harvey in a panic, and when Farmer was taken away, he was sitting not far from the emergency room where Farmer was lying. He refused to go home, and while the doctor spent the whole night trying to wake Farmer up and wanted to call Zuzu hospital, Farmer got up at six in the morning sharp. Yoba, Alex cried and hugged the confused Farmer, who did not understand why the spouse was sobbing, why Harvey was lying unconscious and how they ended up in the clinic.

Sebastian:

Though outwardly Sebastian was calm, his heart was beating quite fast from worry. He was a bit nervous, for he had never before encountered a heavy sleeper like Farmer. Sebby could easily be wakened by a rustle, but his love did not care at all about external sounds, even if a meteorite fell, they would not wake up. But at least they breathe and sniffle, that's good. He looked at his spouse for a long time, until he had fallen asleep himself, and now Farmer was looking at his slightly asleep husband. "Did you not sleep well, Sebby?" "....You could say that." He would ask Farmer to consult a doctor about it, because it... wasn't exactly normal.

Penny:

Penny's first encounter with such a peculiarity of her spouse did not go very smoothly, to say the least, as she stood crying by the bedside, vainly waking up Farmer and thinking that they had died or fallen into a coma. Imagine Farmer's face who woke up at exactly six in the morning from a sweet dream, and instead of their wife's warm smile and the smell of fresh coffee saw a sobbing Penny with the phone in her hands, calling Harvey for help. The conversation will be awkward, and Penny will rightly be angry, because she should be warned about this, but quickly adjusts to such a strange Farmer's habit. Though she'll still periodically check to see if they're breathing, just to reassure that everything's okay.

Abigail:

Abigail used to think that her Farmer was just a very deep sleeper, as she usually didn't take long attempts to wake up her spouse, leaving them to dream further, and went to do her own thing without Farmer's help. But the violet-haired girl began to notice this sort of thing more often. On one such night, she decided to test her little theory - Abby lightly shaked them, tickled them, tried to call to them (loudly), even put ice on their hand/leg/stomach - to no avail, they lay still like log, and only sniffled quietly. "You really are a deep sleeper until 6:00 a.m., like wow!" Abby shared her thoughts the next morning with Farmer, and she sounded more like admiration than concern.

Maru:

When the rooster crowed at exactly six in the morning, Farmer stretched sweetly and turned around to where Maru should be lying. Only instead of a sleeping wife or an empty seat (when she gets up early and makes breakfast), Maru was looking directly at her spouse, with notepad and pen in hand. "Hey darling, did you sleep well?" "Did you sleep well?" Judging by the heavy sigh and bags across Maru's eyes, apparently not. The young inventor noticed this strange pattern and decided to test her theory. They do indeed always get up at 6am, no matter what time they went to bed. It's very interesting! ...Although she admits that it was kinda strange to watch Farmer like that, and plus she was getting sleep deprived.

Haley:

Well, Haley hadn't noticed it at first, for at least she'd adapted to farm life, but getting up at six in the morning, seriously? People are still in bed at that time. But later, she caught this unusual phenomenon when Farmer lay down to rest for a couple hours at noon, but slept through all the plans they and their beloved wife wanted to make for the evening. Haley herself sleeps about 10 hours a night, but 18? And her spouse was impossible to wake up with anything. Nothing works, at all. The next morning she'll be a little passive-aggressive that the promised date got derailed, but she'll also be concerned because somehow this is kinda weird. Maybe they should see a doctor.

Emily:

"Thank Yoba! I was already afraid you wouldn't wake up!" The first words Farmer heard after waking up caused them to rise abruptly and look around their surroundings. Hmm, strange, they're not in a clinic, nor are they on the first level of the Mines. They're fine, and only a sad and worried Emily was standing around. "I heard some sort of scratching outside the front door and I wanted you to check, but there was no way to wake you up, and I was starting to get scared-" Oops... Farmer forgot to mention that they don't get up until after 6am, and there's no way to wake them up. Yeah, it's a weird peculiarity, but that's the way it is. At least with Farmer it's okay, so Emily relaxed a bit. But Farmer themself is worried: if they don't get up before 6 am, how to help their wife if someone, Yoba forbid, gets into the house...?

Leah:

In the first time this happened, Leah naturally freaked out when Farmer didn't wake up after a long sleep/consciousness in the Mines (just tired and collapsed from exhaustion, not wounds). And then it happened again. And again. And again, and again, and again. Until, annoyed by Farmer's disregard for their own health, the artist picked up a sculpted hammer and threatened it at the Farmer's face. "You know, I understand you have this thing with sleep, but that doesn't mean you need make it worse. Dear spouse, go to bed on time, or else..." Farmer did not want to know what would happened after "or else...", so they listened to their strict but caring wife and started to go to bed on time. And at home, not in Mines/Skull Cavern (...in most cases).

Stardew Valley Expanded:

Magnus Rasmodius:

Magnus would at first think that some kind of curse (from his ex-wife) had been cast on his spouse, or that his own spell, which he usually casts on Farmer for protection, had given strange side effects. But after checking, he found nothing life-threatening - Farmer is always up at six in the morning no matter what, and the effects of magic are nowhere to be found. Unusual, but Farmer themself are quite an unusual person, as is Rasmodius himself. There will, of course, be worries in case Magnus' beloved spouse inadvertently falls asleep or passes out in a dangerous place, but it's nothing that enchanted artifacts or spells can't solve.

Victor:

Perhaps Victor would not have been so frightened by the first encounter with such a peculiarity of his spouse, if it had not been for a series of previous events. Victor didn't know that Farmer didn't get up until 6:00 a.m. His spouse had returned from their adventure complaining that they had bumped their head a little when falling from a height. No serious wounds, and Farmer checked with the doctor, ok. Farmer was still complaining of a headache, and decided to take a half hour nap, ok. Victor wakes Farmer after two hours of sleep, for dinner. They don't wake up. The spaghetti lover's first thought is that the head injury turned out to be much more serious... Which is why Victor immediately sounds the alarm and calls Harvey. The next morning Farmer wakes up as if nothing had happened ("Wait, is that clinic?"), but Victor insists that more tests must be done. He's worried, alright?

Lance:

Hmm, pretty unusual, and... Lance is getting a little worried about this information. His spouse is telling him in direct text that if they fall asleep or pass out, they will not, under any circumstances, wake up before 6am the next morning. And if Farmer for some reason decides to spend the night in a tent near a place swarming with monsters or wild beasts, or collapses from exhaustion in the same forest or other, not too safe place... The pink-haired adventurer knows that his beloved Farmer can take care of themself, but will still either recommend going on adventures with him (or Marlon), or find a solution to this problem in magic (instant travel artifacts if Farmer starts to fall asleep/lose consciousness, or something like that).

Sophia:

Sophia's first assumption when she couldn't wake her spouse was that they had fallen into a coma, and in a fit of panic, she tearfully began calling Dr. Harvey, Maru, Gus - anyone who could help Farmer in any way. Those who arrived had already brought a stretcher to lay Farmer down and take them to the clinic, but as soon as it hit 6 a.m., they quietly opened their eyes.... and were stunned by the change of scenery. Why are they on a stretcher? Gus, Harvey? What's goin- Sophia, why are you crying? The pink-haired girl will insist on visiting Harvey to see if her spouse is okay. Yes, the habit is strange, but it doesn't affect Farmer's health, except that it is necessary to go to bed on time and preferably at home (at least in the Pelican Town where there are people). Sophia checks them before they go to bed anyway to make sure everything is okay. That incident scared her terribly.

Claire:

"Dear, don't you think this is a little strange? Do you always get up at this hour?" Claire asked the question casually, since although her spouse was fine and had no health complaints/sleep problems, such a strange coincidence couldn't help but go unnoticed by her. If Farmer replied that they woke up like this, at six a.m. sharp, precisely after they moved to Stardew Valley, Claire would be a little concerned. Maybe.... Farmer should watch their sleep schedule and lighten the adventures duties? She's just being caring and wants to make sure they're okay and it's not detrimental to their health.

Scarlett:

Scarlett noticed that Farmer got up at a certain time, although at first her theory was a bit wrong. She thought that her dearest spouse wakes up only after the rooster call only, which usually crowed closer to 6 am. So Scarlett decided to test her little theory by letting Copper (their rooster) into the bedroom at half past six in the morning. The proud bird immediately started his wake up song, but Farmer was deed asleep. But when the clock had already struck exactly six, they got out of bed. "Good morning, dear- Why is our rooster in the bedroom?" "Oh, we just testing a theory." Kinda strange, but if Farmer's health wasn't threatened by this, Scarlett would be relatively calm.

Olivia:

Olivia didn't just call a local doctor and his assistant - the former Joja accountant started calling all the professional doctors she knew from Zuzu city, worryingly describing the symptoms and the condition of her spouse who was still asleep. Farmer woke up yesterday, went to couch for an hour nap at 11am and still hasn't woken up! Olivia is in a panic, and while Harvey tries to sort out Farmer's condition, she runs back and forth with her phone. Waking up already in the room, Farmer will be in complete shock, to say the least, to see a whole bunch of doctors examining them. Olivia's spouse is fine, but they're both definitely not leaving the clinic until the doctors' verdict. And if Farmer had warned her about this 'peculiarity'...

[nataliasquote]

Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

[philosians]

my shining star

xavier x reader — headcanons

a/n: first Xavier work! pls be gentle idk his character 100% yet lol. i hope u guys don’t mind how i formatted the headcanons. some of these are kinda blurbs or mini-stories tbh >///< i wrote at least half of this at 7am too, and I don’t remember Xav’s lore that well so some minor mistakes may be made according to that sorry guys :(( and uh, mild angst at the end sorry about that too

ᯓ★. Whenever you run out of moisturizer or facial cream, it’s Xavier who always finds out first (it used to be Tara while you two chatted at work). It’s an offhand comment during a conversation you two are having after he gets a break from fighting Wanderers, so you don’t expect him to remember it whatsoever. But he does, and when he goes out for groceries before he comes home, he’s got those things in a bag ready to bring home to you so you can continue on with your routine without missing a day in it.

ᯓ★. You both do each other’s skin care routine, too. After you teach him how to start taking care of his already flawless skin better, he asks you to teach him how to do your own routine so he can do it for you. He loves touching your skin—loves feeling the soft squish of your cheeks underneath his firm fingertips as he smoothes over creams across your face—every chance he can get.

ᯓ★. He also takes off your makeup at the end of the day. Whenever you’re tired from work or an outing, if you have makeup on and you’re too tired, regardless of how tired he is, he’ll do his best to stay awake and remove your makeup for you while you sit on the bathroom counter. You end up having to carry your six-foot-one boyfriend to bed after he finishes wiping the last of your makeup and falls asleep on your chest as his reward though lol.

ᯓ★. Apparently canonically, as boyfriend and girlfriend, you have his debit card number, so you can use his card to buy all sorts of things that you have your eyes on whenever you go shop. You don’t try to overdo it when he tells you to use his card for that, even if he’s got plenty of money stored away. But when he gets insistent, you can’t really say no to him. Xavier’s not allowed to be jealous or touch your Lumiere merch without your permission though once you come home with them.

ᯓ★. The man has a piano in his apartment. If you don’t know how to play, then he’d be more than happy to teach you. If not, then he’s more than happy to serenade you with his skills. When there are rainy days, you ask him to play while the patio door is open and thunder rumbles and rain falls from the sky, creating an aesthetic atmosphere that you’ve heard of and seen in romance books and movies.

On days you’re sad or upset, or just in an off-mood altogether, Xavier sits himself down at the piano and starts to weave his fingers across the keys into a friendly melody while you sit on the couch. Regardless of how long it takes, you always find your spirits lifted once Xavier starts to play. And the smiles he gives you when he looks back from time to time always warm your heart.

ᯓ★. Man is a horrible cook. He knows how to make maybe two things without blowing up the oven or stove and that’s it. Thankfully, you handle most of the cooking from the moment you move in. Either that, or he takes you downstairs to the cafe for breakfast in your pajamas while you both are still rubbing your eyelids. You both also probably end up going back to sleep on a full stomach after that too, especially on your days off.

ᯓ★. Sleeps like the dead, this guy does. His longest record of sleep was 48 hours. And if you hadn’t experienced it beforehand or hadn’t been aware of his… condition, or aware of capacity to sleep for such awfully long periods of time, you most certainly would’ve taken your boyfriend to the hospital as soon as the 18 hour mark had hit… or if he hadn’t woken up when you were poking his cheek and grabbed you to be his cuddle buddy. Rip your bladder if you had to pee. But thankfully he makes up for it by being the best cuddle buddy/boyfriend ever…

Until 20 minutes later when you have to deal with a grumpy and awake Xavier after you wrestle yourself from him to go and desperately relieve yourself.

ᯓ★. Xavier is a jealous man. Even still to Jeremiah. You have to roll your eyes at him and pinch his cheek when someone comes up to you and tries to make any attempt at friendly conversation. It for some reason shows in particular when you’re flocked by children while you’re on duty with Xavier. You answer all of their questions excitedly, but to the one boy who asks, “Will I have a partner as pretty as you?” Xavier ends up being the one who answers as flat as possible, “Probably not.”

Thankfully the kid rebounds from his words pretty quick when the other boys and girls start asking more questions. You, however, can still see the frown on Xavier’s face. You’ll make it up to him with some hot pot later. And when you’re far enough, you pressing a kiss to his cheek seems to bring him out of his jealousy.

ᯓ★. Xavier has no issue with telling people off if they make you uncomfortable though. One incident at the bakery here recently is the most memorable, mostly because of how uncomfortable the guy had been able to make you.

The way Xavier suddenly appears beside you startles you, but when he puts a strong arm around your shoulders and tucks you protectively into his side, you find yourself relaxing into him and his comforting scent as he tells you the cake will be brought to your seats soon. You have no problem as you nod and close your eyes to let your boyfriend handle the other man with a hardened glare and an anything-but-sincere apology. And when Xavier leads you to your seats, he watches with his same glare as makes sure the guy hurries out the door and leaves.

ᯓ★. There are times when Xavier sleeps so hard he ends up waking up in the middle of the night. You’re asleep next to him, partially latched onto his soft sweater. He hates to pull away, but he’s hungry, and needs to quell the thoughts in his head of the dream he’d just had.

The living room is dead silent. He stares out of the window, water in hand as his mind races, thoughts of his homeworld. This isn’t the first time this has happened, nor will it be the last—the guilt of falling in love with this version of you when he has his queen to return home to, and perhaps… the guilt of falling in love with Philos’s version of you and having this version of you to himself also consumes him.

Guilt… because he loves all versions of you no matter the lifetime and he feels like he shouldn’t. He doesn’t belong here; he belongs on Philos with his beloved.

But he cannot help but also love the indescribable warmth and open love and joy that this version of you brings him.

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

No Reply?

Jisung clumsily texts you only to worry about your lack of responses. When you finally do respond, he can't but jump into checking up on you.

~ 2000 words

This touches upon the topic of performative productivity in disregard of one's need of proper rest.

Three messages. One that you responded to, and two that were unanswered.

To be fair, Jisung knows that there isn't truly a conversation he brought up. He greeted you and vanished. The next day, he worried that you might be annoyed at him and asked if you were.

No answer.

He asked again because he needed to know, hoping desperately that whatever answer you had to offer would calm his mind.

No answer.

Now he is staring at the screen, your side of the chat way too empty. His side of the chat, too. A maximum of two words per message isn't what makes it easy for you to come up with a response. He knows this, yet he can't bring himself to text more.

One more, he tells himself and simply writes your name and attaches a question mark. It is a digital whisper to affirm your presence. It's a deathly time. His sleep schedule is a mess. He is a mess. Deep within himself, voices gossip about you being a mess.

He wakes up at the signal of a new message.

You: Sorry

That's all you texted.

Jisung: Are you alright?

His fingers are trembling as he types. His eyes are teary and not just from the burning brightness of the screen.

He keeps on staring at his phone, but no dots appear and indicate that you were typing.

There is no way he'd find sleep now, so Jisung gets up and paces around his room until he calls you.

'Hi?', he hears you asking confused, voice clear.

You must have been awake for some rime already.

'Why don't you reply?', he asks, voice trembling.

'I did', you say bluntly.

'Sorry. You texted sorry', he grunts.

'I'm alright', you just say.

'Now, why would I be able to believe that now?', he asks, frustrated and takes a deep breath.

'What are you up to right now?', he continues calmer.

'I'm at a café... reading', you answer.

'Reading. At a café. At 7am?'Jisung asks.

'Yes', you confirm.

'Which café?'

'The one next to the orange trees.'

Jisung stops pacing and looks outside the window. The dark clouds are rushing through the air, and he freezes just looking at the weather.

'You need to learn the names of the places you go to', he sighs and puts on a hoodie.

'I don't', you reply stubbornly.

'Are you wearing a scarf?', he asks as he balances on one foot, putting on his sneaker on the other, his phone squished between his cheek and his shoulder.

'I don't', you reply bored.

'Are you wearing make-up?', he asks.

'I do', you reply, and he Jisung let out a hurried yelp as he drops to the ground.

'What are you doing?', you ask.

'Fighting gravity', he winces and decides that sitting on the floor is easier.

'I hang up now, okay?', you announce.

'No', Jisung shouts and repeats it again, quieter.

'No?', you ask curiously.

'I need to hear your voice', he begs and gets up, takes the keys from the counter, and leaves his apartment.

'Was that the door?', you ask.

Jisung ignores your question and starts rambling about work, giving his best to entertain you until he areives at the café. He knows he bores you, but he also knows that you wouldn't hang up on him abruptly.

He arrives and goes straightened to the staff.

'Did she already pay?', he asks and points at you.

The staff member shakes their head, and Jisung pays for your order. Then he walks over to you and sits down at your table.

You look up from your book and shake your head.

'You've muted the call instead of ending it', you stated the obvious.

Wordlessly, Jisung puts his phone on the table and presses the red button.

'There. I hung up', he says and stares at you, his hair messy and eyes tired.

'Why are you here?', you ask and place the bookmark between the pages.

'Same question to you', he says monotonously.

'I craved coffee and some chapters', you answer, because you always answer instead of joining his attention to construct arguments.

He knew you didn't care why he was here. If he didn't feel like that, it was something necessary to tell. You never press.

He hates that.

'You had your coffee and your chapters', he winces as if he was in pain. 'There is no reason for you to get up so early, to sacrifice your sleep just to live out the illusion of productivity. You'll end up sick', he presses and stares into your reddened eyes as you evidently cried more than you rested.

'You're annoying', you sigh.

'I don't care', he challenges.

Finally, you put your book away and push the cup of the last few sips of coffee over to Jisung.

'It's with nougat syrup', he hears you mumble.

Cheerfully, he takes a miniscule sip and cherishes the sweet coffein rolling over his tongue. The syrip sticks to the bottom of the porcelain, and with a few twirls, he lets the bitter liquid collect it. He finishes with a delicious exhale and smiles.

'Thank you', he lets out gratefully and gets up, strezching his arms up towards the ceiling and ruffles his hair when he lets his arms back down.

When you get up, the dizziness overcomes you, and you sink back to the chair, squinting your eyes for a second. The second is enough for Jisung to hurry around the table and be by your side. With his utmost gentless, he kneels down next to you and brushes softly over your cheek.

'Hey, slowly, hmm?', he coos and circles his arms around your shoulder, his warmth embracing you.

'I'm sorry', he hears you whisper and shakes his head.

'No. No apologies. Just let me take care of it all, yeah?', he begs.

It's the faintest of nods he registers, but it's enough for him. Carefully, he supports your body as you stand up a second time and when he realzes that you actually lean against him for a moment before you conquer true stability in your balance, his heart blooms in pride. He loves it when you let him be your strength.

He picks up your bag and shoulders it casually. With a tuck on your sleeve, he signals you that he wants to hold your hand and with your palm against his, he leads you outside the café where the empty orange trees wave you goodbye as the wind pushes and pulls on the branches.

He strives at a fast pace, determined to get you home fast and without the intense pain of the cold air on your skin. When he opens the door to his apartment, he finds you hesitating. He doesn't know why you don't just step inside like you have done hundrets of times before, but seeing you so reluctant towards the simplest relief such as homey warmth makes him angry.

There is a dullness in your eyes that he has seen before, usually when you were stressed. However, you're on a break. You have no external stress. He watches you with more focus. He feels his forhead tensing up and finds you stepping towards him. Your hands reach out to brush over the wrinkles.

'No, don't worry', you gasp breathlessly, and Jisung uses the opportunity of your approach to pull you inside and against him.

With one arm around you and the other on the door, he whispers: 'I'll close the door, okay? Even when you just stay for a minute, stay.'

Your fingers trace over his forhead and down his cheeks before you cradle his face. It makes him feel warm despite the goosebumps that wash over him when your pinky accidently brushes over his jaw.

'I'll stay for a while if that's fine', he hears you answering so quietly that he feels the urge to scream.'You'll stay! It's okay to stay!' to give the utmost certainty to you, but also himself.

He closes the door and finally relaxes his eyebrows. It makes you smile.

'You're running yourself into the ground', he whispers and pokes your cheek. To his delight, it makes you smile even wider, and a hue of blush creeps into your face.

'It was just coffee and a book', you sigh.

'It is you getting up when you're too tired to, doing your make up when you don't want to, not taking a scarf when you know you'll be freezing, and it's especially you not feeling worthy of me making it all easier.'

Jisung stops talking and studys you, the way your eyes shimmer more prominently, the way you subconscious grip his shirt to feel close to him without actually holding onto him, the way you're slightly trembling as your bodies fights the exhaustion to remain stood.

'How about we lay down. That's all. Just us, fluffy pillows and blankets, and we talk, or we don't. We watch something, or we don't. Whatever comes naturally right now', he suggests while he gently brushes some strands of your hair back, a well executed excuse to scratch your scalp, and lulls you into relaxation.

'No performative productivity here, hm?', he adds quieter and tilts his head.

'Did you really jump out of bed to get me?', you ask shyly, and he nods.

'Yeah? I missed you', he simply admits, and finally, he feels you fully leaning into him in a proper hug.

Your laughter causes your body to shake, and it translates into his heart jumping.

'Missed you, too', you breathe out.

'Why didn't you tell me then?', Jisung asks, almost insulated, but he knows the answer before you tell him, so he just holds you closer.

'Didn't think you'd want to spend time with me when I'm miserable', you'd confess and he is proud that you for once manage to speak your mind so clearly without having to encounter immense overwhelm that usually paralyzes you.

'I always want to spend time with you with all that comes with it. Happy, sad, angry, all of it', he assures and guides you towards his room. Let's get comfy as he quickly leaves to pick up a cloth drenched in warm water.

'May I?', he asks and kneels down next to you, already being tucked in the blanket.

'You spoil me', you laugh, and Jisung now does feel insulted.

'Shut up. You clearly don't know how my spoiling you actually works. This', he says and lifts the cloth, 'is not what you'd call spoiling if you did it yourself, right?'

'No, ai think I'd call it cleaning my face', you state with a teasing undertone.

'Exactly. This is me taking care of you while you remained comfy and unbothered, alright?', he asks, and when you nod and close your eyes, he finally removes your make-up and finishes with a kiss on your forhead.

He runs to bring the cloth into the bathroom and runs again to join you in bed.

'Cuddle or space?', he asks as he burries himself under the blanket.

You don't answer. You turn around to face him with your eyes closed and only then you whisper, 'cuddle', so sweetly, so weakly as you finally give into the tiredness, that Jisung tenderly engulfs you with his warmth, and lets you lest against him. He wouldn't move once he feels you as close as it gets. He'd only whisper that you deserve every moment of warmth and that he's always there to ensure you have access to them.

He might not always be clear on his wish to be close to you. He might struggle to text you in a way that was efficient, but he knows that he'll do better next time, not to make you respond, but to let you know that you are always wanted.

[taylorsfolkmoredress]

Here’s my second Derek Morgan request! Reader is also a BAU agent whose hotel room is right next to Derek’s during a case. She’s the newest addition to the team, so she’s still getting used to the intensity of their cases. Derek can tell she’s been struggling a bit lately, but he doesn’t pry until she comes knocking on his door at the ass crack of dawn cuz she can’t sleep and doesn’t wanna be alone.

Oh this is so cute I hope tumblr lets me write this one lmao!

wc: 956

tags: hurt/comfort, could be read as platonic or developing romance. not dialogue heavy but still sweet, also not as long as i wanted but its 7am and i havent slept yet :)

not edited!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

A soft knock at his hotel door pulled Derek from his dreams of soft hair and gentle words. It took him a second to understand that he had to get up to answer the door, but when he did, he made his way to the door in nothing but a pair of loose sleep pants and a well worn muscle tee that had thinned with time.

When he pulled the door open he was met with your teary face, quivering lips tugging at his heartstrings like nothing else ever had. You looked like the utter definition of the phrase “I need a hug”, and he could do nothing else but pull your soft body into his wrapping his strong arms around you in a tight, but not constricting, hug. He felt you tense for a second, but almost immediately after, you completely relax in his arms, going near boneless as the tension from the day leaves your body.

Derek hadn’t yet had the pleasure of holding you like this, the way friends do, the way people who know each other better than anyone do. He’s glad he’s one of those people, glad he’s already learned so many little tells of yours.

It started on the third day of the case. The unsub had already killed again, and they had had good reason to suspect he’d taken his newest victim already as well. The case had been particularly close to your home town, only an hours drive away, and it was clear it was freaking you out.

It would’ve freaked Derek out as well, he didn’t blame you, but he knew the feeling must be much more intense due to your inexperience in the field. You’d only joined the BAU two months prior, and every case you’d worked since seemed to weigh down your spirit more and more. He hated seeing it. You somehow retained your beautiful smile every day, but this case was too much, and he saw the mask crack from a mile away.

Which lead to now. The case wrapped up mere hours ago, two more victims dead, one injured but looking towards recovery. It wasn’t the result anyone hoped for, but it was the one you would all have to live with.

He made sure to keep his arms secure around you while he pulled you into his room, knowing you didn’t want anyone else seeing this side of you. Your shoulder trembled against his chest and it made his heart ache. He hated seeing you cry, you were so damn sweet, he couldn’t handle your tears.

His own words hit his ears before he even realized he was speaking. “Sweetheart, it’s ok, I’m here, I’ve got you.” His words were soft, murmured against your hair, but still audible. They caused a heaving gasp against his chest, and a whole new wave of tears to fall. He made no move to stop them, knowing that what you needed in that moment was to release those emotions you’d tried to keep locked away all week. It was a feeling he knew all too well.

The couch was soft when he set you down on it, moving to kneel in front of you so he can continue holding you. He presses his cheek to your temple, letting out soft reassurances and gently humming occasionally. He held you like that for a while, but he didn’t watch the time. It wasn’t important to him, all he cared about was knowing you were okay.

You were a brilliant agent, a fresh set of eyes that never failed to offer insight far above your supposed experience level. It made him feel a strange sense of pride when your observations lead to a breakthrough in cases. Beyond that, you were someone he already loved spending time with. The two of you had clicked immediately, much to everyone’s surprise. You were quite shy, timid even, and Derek was the exact opposite. Maybe thats what made you gravitate towards each other so easily. He didn’t know. What he did know was that He’d heard you crying through the thin hotel walls every night for 3 days straight, and he finally had a chance to help without feeling like he was backing you into a corner.

He gently ran his hands up and down your back and arms, doing his best to ground you and help you to calm down. Each sob became slower and slower, before turning into soft hiccups. He feels you tense for a moment as you come back to yourself, but he feels you relax from exhaustion just as quickly. He takes that as his cue to speak, not letting you overthink anything.

“Hey, pretty girl, listen to me. Okay?” He waits for your small nod before continuing. “You did amazing out there this week, and we couldn’t have found this creep without you. You protected the people in the community. I know it’s hard, but each and every one of us on this team has been in your shoes. We’ve all felt that same dread, that same fear. That same abhorrence for opening our eyes in the morning or closing them at night. But you’re meant for this job the way you handle the victims families, and you always treat the victims with such grace and dignity? It’s beautiful. I can’t see you lose that.” His words seemed to settle something inside you. You pulled away from him, but not out of sadness, you pulled away with a look of determination, albeit a tired one.

He knew you weren’t okay yet, but as he lead you to his bed and got you comfortable before moving to the couch himself, he knew that you would be, one day.