#it’s so frustrating trying to explain to someone WHY this matters | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 1 year ago

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do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues.

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs.

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface.

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more.

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment.

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable.

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness.

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak.

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down.

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!”

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time.

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder.

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could.

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs.

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips.

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade.

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin.

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh.

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles.

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements.

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg.

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly.

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs.

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases.

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents.

Almost.

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed.

“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention.

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him.

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm.

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him.

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back.

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them.

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again.

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him.

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good.

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice.

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

He hums contemplatively.

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum.

“About what?”

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn your first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine.

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?”

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?”

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again.

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you.

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away.

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet.

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes.

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it.

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message.

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky.

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort.

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh.

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly.

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily.

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly.

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy.

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids.

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin.

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum.

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you.

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you.

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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4linos · 22 days ago

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fractured silence 2.

yang jeongin x idol!reader

synopsis: when your pregnancy complicates your secret relationship, the emotional distance between you and your boyfriend grows, leaving you unsure of where you stand and what the future holds.

warnings: pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication.

wc: 9747

[fractured silence part 1, fractured silence part 3]

The morning light filtered through the windows of the makeup room, casting a soft glow on your reflection as a stylist carefully applied foundation to your skin. But despite the gentle hum of conversation between staff members and the usual pre-interview preparations, your mind was stuck on the night before.

Jeongin’s words still echoed in your head, playing on an endless loop.

You’re being really annoying lately.

Just leave me alone for a bit.

You don’t need to keep asking about everything.

No matter how many times you tried to push them away, the weight of his frustration sat heavily on your chest. The way he had snapped at you, the sudden shift in his behavior, it didn’t make sense.

He had been so sweet, so supportive. He had promised to stand by your side. But now?

Now, he was shutting you out, and you didn’t understand why.

You wanted to call him again, to demand an explanation, to ask if he really meant what he said. But a part of you was scared of the answer.

What if he did mean it?

What if he was regretting everything?

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the present. You had a long day ahead, interviews, schedules, promotions. You couldn’t let yourself break down right now.

You could deal with Jeongin later.

But then, your manager, Jinhee walked in.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” she said, her voice neutral, but something about the way she looked at you made your stomach twist.

You barely hesitated before nodding, carefully getting up from the chair. “Of course.”

You excused yourself from the stylists, smoothing down your outfit as you followed Jinhee out of the room and down the hall.

She didn’t speak right away, just kept walking, and with every silent second, the tension in your body grew.

She led you into an empty practice room, the door clicking shut behind you. The room was dim, the large mirrors reflecting your nervous expression as you turned to face her.

And then, she finally spoke.

“Is it true?”

Your breath hitched.

She didn’t need to clarify. You knew exactly what she was asking.

Your stomach dropped.

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out. You couldn’t lie, not to her. But you also didn’t know how to answer.

“I—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but she cut you off with a sigh.

“Just tell me the truth.”

She wasn’t angry. That was what scared you the most. If she had come in screaming, furious, maybe it would have been easier to handle. But the disappointment in her eyes, the quiet weight in her tone, it felt so much worse.

You swallowed hard, feeling your body go rigid. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, and suddenly, the room felt too small.

How did she know?

You had been so careful. You had only told the people you trusted the most your members, and Jeongin.

So how?

Your silence must have been answer enough because Jinhee, sighed again, crossing her arms.

“The company knows.”

The words hit you like a freight train.

Your hands clenched at your sides. “What?”

“JYP reached out to us,” she explained, her voice still calm but firm. “They said they received the information and wanted to confirm it with HYBE. I don’t know who told them, but someone did.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Someone… told them?

Your mind raced, grasping for answers, but there was only one name flashing in your head, one person who had been acting off ever since he told you he had spoken to Chan.

Jeongin.

You felt like the ground had been ripped out from beneath you.

Had he told them?

No, that didn’t make sense. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Right?

Your pulse quickened as you struggled to breathe, to think, to make sense of it all.

“I��I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice shaky.

Jinhee studied you carefully. “Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen yet. But I wanted to warn you before things get worse. HYBE is upset, JYP even more so. You need to be prepared.”

Prepared?

For what?

For the company to scold you? To make you hide even more? To tell you what you already knew that you had just risked everything you worked for?

Your hands trembled, and you clenched them into fists to steady yourself.

Jinhee took a step closer, her voice softening. “Are you okay?”

You wanted to say yes.

You wanted to say that you had everything under control, that you were handling it, that you weren’t standing on the verge of breaking.

But you couldn’t.

Because at that moment, it felt like everything was falling apart.

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t ready to tell them yet.”

Jinhee’s expression remained calm, but there was something almost pitying in her eyes. “I know,” she said gently. “But the reality is, they already know. And I don’t know when or how this is going to unfold.”

Her words sent a fresh wave of panic crashing over you.

This wasn’t supposed to happen yet.

You had been preparing yourself, trying to gather the courage to tell the company when the time felt right. When you had a plan. When you and Jeongin figured things out. But now, it was out of your hands.

You bit your lip hard to stop the tears from forming, inhaling sharply as you fought against the lump in your throat.

Jinhee sighed, her tone softer now. “I’ll try to find out more. Who reported it, what the company plans to do, but for now, just focus on today’s schedules. Alright?”

You nodded stiffly, even though you knew, deep down you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. This was going to cloud your mind for the rest of the day, no matter how hard you tried to push it down.

With a weak “thank you,” you turned on your heel and left the practice room, your mind racing as you made your way back to the makeup room.

The moment you stepped inside, the other girls turned to you, their faces filled with quiet concern.

Jinae gave you a soft smile. “Everything okay?”

You forced a smile back, even though your chest felt tight. “Yeah. Just… manager stuff.”

They didn’t push, but you could tell they knew something was wrong. You could see it in the way Chae watched you closely, in how Minsu subtly reached out and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. They weren’t fooled, but they weren’t going to force you to talk.

You appreciated that.

Taking a deep breath, you reached into your bag, fingers scrambling as you searched for your phone. Your hands were trembling slightly, but you ignored it.

You needed to talk to Jeongin.

You needed to hear him tell you that this was a mistake that your company somehow got the information wrong. That he hadn’t done this. That someone else had leaked it.

You tugged your phone out and barely mumbled a rushed “I’ll be right back” before slipping out of the room again.

Your heart was pounding as you rushed down the hall, gripping your phone tightly as you dialed his number.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Four.

He wasn’t answering.

You pressed your back against the cool wall, closing your eyes briefly as the call continued ringing.

Pick up. Please.

On the very last ring, just when you thought it would go to voicemail, the call connected.

Jeongin’s voice came through, but it wasn’t the warm, concerned tone you were used to.

It was irritated. Bothered.

“What is it?” he asked, exhaling heavily like he had just been interrupted from something important.

Your stomach twisted, but you pushed past the hurt.

“They know.”

There was a long pause.

Too long.

You could hear your own heartbeat in the silence.

Then, barely above a whisper, you asked the question you were dreading.

“…Did you tell them?”

More silence.

And then before he could even say anything, he sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

Your breath hitched.

That was all the confirmation you needed.

Your grip on your phone tightened as you stared blankly at the tiled floor, your entire body going rigid.

“Why?” Your voice came out shaky, raw. “Why would you do that?”

Jeongin exhaled again, but it wasn’t frustrated this time. It was tired.

“Because—” He hesitated. “Because they were going to find out eventually.”

You blinked rapidly, your vision blurring. “So what? You decided to throw me under the bus first? Were you..were you trying to save yourself?”

Jeongin’s breath hitched at your accusation. “No—”

“Then why?” you asked again, your voice cracking. “Why would you go behind my back like this? We were supposed to handle this together.”

“I was handling it,” he argued, but there was something defensive in his tone. “I told Chan. And he—he lost it. He said this could ruin everything. He was scared, and I—” He cut himself off, like he didn’t know how to explain. “I thought if I told them first, it would be better than them finding out through rumors or scandals.”

You let out a bitter laugh, one that held no amusement. “Better?”

Jeongin didn’t answer.

You wiped at your face harshly, even though the tears hadn’t fallen yet. Your chest ached, your throat felt tight, and suddenly, you felt so small.

So alone.

“You promised me,” you whispered. “You promised you’d stand by me.”

“I am—”

“No, Jeongin,” you cut him off. “You’re not.”

Another silence.

The longer it stretched, the more your heart shattered.

You waited, waited for him to say something, to tell you that he was still here, that he hadn’t just broken the trust you had in him.

But nothing came.

And suddenly, the weight of everything, the pregnancy, the company knowing, the overwhelming sense of betrayal became too much.

You couldn’t do this. Not right now.

You swallowed down the sob threatening to escape and exhaled shakily. “I have to go.”

Jeongin must have heard the shift in your tone because his voice softened immediately. “Wait—”

But you didn’t wait.

You hung up before he could say another word.

And this time, you didn’t call back.

The moment you hung up, your phone lit up again, Jeongin’s name flashing across the screen.

He was calling you back.

You clenched your jaw, gripping the phone so tightly your knuckles turned white. You weren’t ready to hear whatever excuses he had. You didn’t want to listen to his apologies, not when the damage had already been done.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you pressed down on his contact, tapped Block Number, and shoved your phone back into your bag.

You didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not here.

But the weight of everything pressed down on you, threatening to crush you. You were upset with Jeongin, for going behind your back, for making such a huge decision without you. But you were also upset with yourself, for trusting him so blindly, for believing he would never do something like this.

And, most of all, you were upset at the situation itself.

If you weren’t an idol, would things be different? Would you and Jeongin be able to celebrate this pregnancy instead of hiding it in fear? Instead of worrying about your careers, your fans, your companies?

Would he have told you first? Would he have stood by you like he promised?

You swallowed back the lump in your throat and forced your feet to move, step after step, back toward the makeup room.

You had to keep it together.

The moment you walked in, the makeup artists called you over for touch-ups, their chatter filling the room. You sat down in your chair, trying to school your expression into something neutral, something presentable. But your hands were still trembling in your lap.

Jinae, who was seated in the chair next to you, noticed immediately. She turned to face you, her expression careful but concerned.

“Okay,” she said softly, just loud enough for you to hear. “What’s going on?”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell her it was nothing, that you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come.

Because you weren’t fine.

You were barely holding yourself together.

Jinae saw the hesitation in your eyes and reached over, placing a gentle hand on your arm. She didn’t push, didn’t demand answers, just let you know she was there.

You let out a shaky breath, but before you could even begin to explain, Jinhee walked in.

She scanned the room before her eyes landed on you. “It’s time. Let’s go.”

You forced yourself to nod, swallowing down the emotions threatening to spill over.

As you stood up, Jinae did too, falling into step beside you as you followed Jinhee down the hallway. The quiet hum of conversation from other staff members, the distant sounds of rehearsals from different rooms, it all felt muted compared to the storm raging inside your head.

And then, finally, you found your voice.

Still staring straight ahead, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “Jeongin told JYP.”

Jinae froze mid-step, her head snapping toward you. “What?”

You hesitated, then nodded. “They know. HYBE knows. Jinhee just told me.”

Jinae’s expression darkened, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

“He told them?” she repeated, anger lacing her voice.

You nodded again, your throat tightening. “Without telling me first.”

Jinae let out a slow, controlled breath through her nose. You could tell she was trying to keep her emotions in check, but the way her jaw tensed, the way her eyes flashed with barely-contained fury, it was clear she was pissed.

“How could he do that?” she muttered under her breath.

You didn’t have an answer.

You had asked yourself the same question over and over since you hung up on him.

The worst part was you wanted to understand. You wanted to believe that he had done it for a reason, that he wasn’t just thinking about himself.

But right now?

All you could feel was betrayal.

Jinae clenched her jaw, shaking her head. “He should’ve told you first. He should’ve talked to you before running to his company.”

You exhaled shakily. “I know.”

Jinae looked like she wanted to say more, to do more, but she held back. Instead, she just reached over, giving your hand a quick, reassuring squeeze.

“We’ll figure this out,” she murmured. “Together.”

You nodded, even though the fear in your chest hadn’t lessened.

Because now, the secret was out.

And you had no idea what would happen next.

You forced yourself to smile, to laugh, to nod along to every question thrown your way during the interviews. You kept your posture straight, your voice steady, and your expressions perfect.

Like nothing was wrong.

Like you weren’t falling apart inside.

Jinae, Minsu, and Chae played along, keeping the energy high, subtly guiding the conversation whenever they noticed you slipping. They had your back.

And finally, finally the interviews ended.

As soon as the cameras shut off and the lights dimmed, you let out a quiet breath, exhaustion settling deep into your bones. You just wanted to go home. To crawl into bed and shut everything out.

Back in the dressing room, you changed into your regular clothes, tugging on your hoodie in an attempt to disappear into yourself. The girls were still chatting softly amongst themselves, Minsu occasionally glancing your way with concern.

You knew they wanted to talk, to ask if you were okay, but before they could

The door opened.

Jinhee, stepped in, followed by a man who immediately made the room go silent.

Jun.

Everyone knew Jun.

He was one of the higher-ups at HYBE, one of the kinder ones. He wasn’t the type to belittle idols, wasn’t unnecessarily cruel, but he was serious about his job. If he was here, now, looking this upset

It wasn’t good.

The door shut behind them with a soft click.

Jun crossed his arms, his jaw tight. He exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable, but the tension in the room grew thicker by the second.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Why did nobody tell the company about what was going on?”

The weight of his words sank in, pressing down on your shoulders like bricks.

You opened your mouth, scrambling for something to say an excuse, an explanation, anything. But before you could, Jinae stepped forward, her arms crossed, her stance firm.

Her tone was sharp, filled with an almost practiced defiance.

“What exactly was there to tell?”

Jun exhaled through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Jinhee, stepped in before he could respond. “The tip-off didn’t come from Jeongin himself.”

Your eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering in your chest.

“What?” you asked.

She sighed. “It came from his team, from his management.”

Silence.

The realization settled over you like a cold wave.

It wasn’t Jeongin who had run to JYP.

It was the people around him.

The same people who managed his schedules, his appearances, his career. The people who saw him as an investment before they saw him as a person.

You swallowed hard. “Why?”

Jinhee’s expression darkened slightly. “Because they’re angry. And because they want to make sure he isn’t mentioned in any articles if this ever gets out.”

Your heart dropped.

They wanted to keep him safe.

They wanted to leave you out to dry.

Your mouth felt dry, and you turned toward Jun. “What’s going to happen?” you asked, your voice quieter than before. “Is the company really that angry with me?”

Jun sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before meeting your eyes.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But more than that… they’re angry that JYP wants to throw you under the bus while keeping Jeongin completely out of it.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Of course. Of course JYP wouldn’t want their idol wrapped up in a scandal.

You knew how these things worked.

A dating scandal was already risky enough. But a pregnancy? That could end careers.

And HYBE wasn’t exactly known for handling these situations with kindness, either.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

“So what?” Minsu cut in, her voice sharper than usual. “They want to act like Jeongin had nothing to do with this? Like she just what? Got pregnant on her own?”

Jun didn’t answer.

Because that was exactly what JYP was trying to do.

Erase Jeongin from the narrative. Make it seem like this was your burden alone. Let you take the backlash, while he walked away unscathed.

Jinae scoffed. “That’s bullshit.”

Jun let out another breath, his expression softening just slightly. “I agree,” he admitted. “Which is why I fought back on it.”

You blinked in surprise.

He continued, “I told them that if Jeongin is involved, then he is involved. If this goes public, we’re not going to pretend otherwise.”

Your chest tightened.

This was it.

The reality you had been dreading was now in motion.

It was out of your hands now.

You weren’t just scared anymore.

You were terrified.

The air in the room was thick with tension, the weight of Jun’s words settling heavily over everyone.

You felt frozen in place, your fingers clenched tightly into your hoodie sleeves as your mind tried to process everything at once.

It wasn’t Jeongin who had told. It was his management.

And now, JYP was working to wipe his name from the situation entirely.

Your company was angry, not just at you, but at them, for trying to shield Jeongin while leaving you and your group to take the fall.

This wasn’t just about you anymore. It was about Jinae. Minsu. Chae. It was about everything the four of you had built together, all the sacrifices you had made to get where you were now.

And the idea that it could all crumble around you because of this? Because of something you didn’t even do alone?

It made you feel sick.

Jinae, standing with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, was the first to speak up.

“What happens if this gets out?” she asked, her voice firm but controlled. “What if Jeongin’s name ends up in the articles anyway?”

Jun sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before answering. “JYP is serious about this. If his name is mentioned, they’re prepared to deny everything.”

The words hit you like a slap.

They would deny it.

Act like it wasn’t true.

Act like you were lying.

Your stomach twisted painfully, and your fingers curled into fists at your sides. You didn’t know why you felt surprised, this was the industry, after all. This was how things worked.

But still, after everything, after how Jeongin had promised to stand by you, after how he had told you over and over again that you weren’t alone..

The thought of him standing back while his company erased his involvement made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t explain.

Jun continued, his voice softer this time. “But I don’t want that to happen.” He looked at you then, his eyes steady. “Because like Minsu said, you didn’t make this baby on your own. It’s unfair for you to be the only one taking the fall while they get to walk away untouched.”

Jinae scoffed under her breath, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

Minsu, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke, her voice laced with frustration. “So what happens now? What are we supposed to do?”

Jun exhaled, his expression unreadable. “For now, we wait. HYBE is still discussing how to handle this. We don’t want this leaking before we can control the narrative.”

Control the narrative.

Of course.

This wasn’t just about you, it was about the company’s image. About how they could twist the situation to protect themselves.

Even if Jun had good intentions, even if he seemed to be fighting for you, you knew at the end of the day,

You were just another idol.

And idols were replaceable.

Your hands trembled at your sides, and you felt Chae gently brush against you, a small, silent reminder that you weren’t alone.

But it didn’t feel like enough.

Because even with all of them here, even with their support

You had never felt more alone in your life.

The weight of the conversation bore down on you like an avalanche, suffocating and inescapable. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your thoughts spiraling as you struggled to grasp what this all meant for you, what it meant for your future, for your career, for everything you had worked so hard for.

Your voice felt small when you finally spoke. “What should I do?” you asked, eyes locked onto Jun, the only person in the room who could give you a clear answer. “What does the company want me to do?”

Jun sighed, his expression unreadable. “I know you’re not going to like this idea,” he said carefully, measuring his words. “But this is your best option.”

You held your breath.

“A long hiatus.”

The room felt impossibly still.

Jun continued, “You could take time to rest, have the baby, get through postpartum, and then come back completely recovered and fully rested.”

A long hiatus.

You felt the words settle into your bones, heavy and suffocating.

Your gaze flickered to the girls, searching their faces for any sort of reaction. Jinae looked torn, her brows furrowed in concern. Minsu shifted uneasily, arms crossed as if she was holding herself together. Chae’s lips were pressed into a thin line, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

They didn’t want you to go.

But they also knew it was your only choice.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to nod. “I don’t want to ruin this for the group,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “So I’ll go.”

You weren’t just doing this for yourself, you were doing it for them.

Because soon, you’d be showing.

Soon, no amount of oversized clothes or careful angles would be able to hide the truth.

And even if you could push through the exhaustion, the nausea, the constant changes happening in your body,

You couldn’t keep performing like you used to.

Dancing, training, long hours of travel, non-stop schedules, none of it was safe for you or the baby.

So this was your only option.

You tried to lighten the mood, offering a small, tired smile. “At least I’ll get to see my family after so long.”

Jinhee, who had been quietly observing, nodded in agreement. “Honestly, this is your best option. You’re lucky the company is being this understanding.”

You nodded again, but there was a part of you that knew

This wasn’t just understanding.

This was damage control.

This was them taking you out of the public eye before the situation could spiral out of their control.

Jun shifted, ready to leave now that the decision had been made.

But before he could take a step, you reached out, gripping his sleeve and pulling him aside, away from Jinhee, away from the girls.

His brow furrowed in slight confusion, but he stayed put, waiting for you to speak.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, raw and desperate.

“Please,” you begged. “Don’t let them drag Jeongin into this.”

Jun’s jaw tightened.

You knew he didn’t like hearing that.

You knew how unfair this was that Jeongin should be held accountable too.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to let that happen.

“I don’t want to ruin his career,” you continued, eyes pleading. “Please.”

Jun exhaled sharply, clearly irritated, but after a long moment, he gave you a brief nod.

Your shoulders sagged with relief, but deep down, you knew

This wasn’t over yet.

The days following that conversation were a blur of forced smiles, quiet panic, and the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you.

You continued attending schedules as if nothing had changed, knowing that soon, you’d have to step away from it all. The company hadn’t made an official statement yet, but the decision was final. You’d be going on hiatus. You just didn’t know when or how they would announce it.

Your members were glued to your side now more than ever. Jinae, Minsu, and Chae hardly let you out of their sight, as if they were afraid you’d disappear before they were ready. Jinae, in particular, was fuming about the way JYP had handled things, but you kept telling her to let it go.

What else could you do?

The hardest part, however, was Jeongin.

You had blocked his number that day, but that didn’t stop him from trying to reach you. Calls from unknown numbers. Messages from Chan. Even handwritten notes delivered through a mutual friend.

All of them said the same thing.

I’m sorry. Please, talk to me.

But you couldn’t.

Not yet.

Not when your entire world was already crashing down around you.

It wasn’t until a few nights later, when you were back at your dorm, that everything truly hit you. You had been holding it together all day, smiling through meetings, pushing through rehearsals, pretending that nothing was wrong, but the moment you were alone in your room, the weight of it all became unbearable.

You curled up on your bed, pressing your face into your pillow as silent tears streamed down your cheeks.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

You had always known being an idol meant sacrificing a normal life. You had accepted that. But now, it felt like you were losing everything, your career, your relationship, your sense of security piece by piece.

A soft knock on your door startled you.

“Hey,” Jinae’s voice came through the door. “Can I come in?”

You wiped your face quickly, sitting up. “Yeah.”

She opened the door gently, stepping inside and closing it behind her. She didn’t say anything at first, just sat down beside you on the bed.

“You don’t have to keep it all in,” she said quietly.

The dam broke.

You turned to her, burying your face into her shoulder as you sobbed. She didn’t say anything, just wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as you cried.

When you finally calmed down, she pulled away slightly, brushing some hair out of your face.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” she said, “but you need to talk to him.”

You tensed. “Jinae—”

“I’m not saying to forgive him,” she interrupted. “But you need answers.”

You swallowed hard. Deep down, you knew she was right.

You couldn’t avoid Jeongin forever.

And whether you liked it or not, you still loved him.

You just didn’t know if that was enough anymore.

Jinae didn’t say much after that. She just gave your hand a light squeeze and stood, telling you softly that she’d be right outside if you needed her. You nodded, still clutching your pillow, your chest aching in that specific way grief and betrayal seem to carve into your ribs.

Once the door clicked shut, the room felt too quiet. Too still. It was just you and your heartbeat pounding against the inside of your throat.

With a shaky breath, you reached for your phone. Your hand hovered over his name, still blocked.

You stared at it for a long time.

Then, with one swipe, you unblocked him. And before your brain could catch up to what your heart had already decided, you hit call.

He answered on the first ring.

“Y/N—” his voice was sharp, panicked, breathless. “Why did you block me? I’ve been trying to reach you for days, I’ve—”

But you didn’t let him finish.

“I need to ask you something first,” you said. Your voice was raw, still hoarse from earlier tears, but there was a steel edge to it now. “Why did your team tell my company?”

Silence. Just the faintest sound of him exhaling on the other end.

You knew that silence. It was guilt.

“Jeongin,” you said again, quieter. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come to me first?”

He finally answered. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” he said, voice low, frustrated but more at himself than at you. “Chan—he freaked out when I told him. He’s been so stressed, and when I told him I was trying to keep it between us until we figured it out, he said I was being selfish. That I was risking everything.”

“So you told them,” you said, bitterness curling at the edges of your tone.

“I didn’t want to,” he said, quickly. “I had to. He made me tell management. I— I should’ve told you. I know. That’s why I lashed out on you the other night. I was already a mess, I didn’t know what to do and I took it out on you, and that was wrong.”

“You think?” you snapped, your voice cracking with the emotion you’d been holding back. “You called me annoying, Jeongin. After everything, I was scared, I was alone, and you made me feel like I was a burden.”

He went quiet again. You could hear his breath catching like he was pacing or shaking his head, angry at himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I swear to you, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of that. I was just scared. I still am.”

You wiped a tear before it could fall, swallowing the ache in your throat. “They’re putting me on hiatus,” you told him, voice hollow. “Starting soon. Over a year.”

The silence on his end cracked like thunder.

“What?” he whispered. “Already?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t really have a choice. They’re angry. But… they’re trying to protect me. Us.”

He didn’t speak for a long moment. You imagined him sitting down, running his hand through his hair the way he always did when he felt helpless.

“I don’t want you to go through this alone,” he finally said. “You and the baby… I should’ve been better. I should’ve fought harder for you, not against you.”

You sighed, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as the tears fell again. “I don’t know if I can trust you right now.”

“I know,” he said. “But I’m going to fix that. I promise.”

You didn’t reply. You couldn’t. Because you wanted to believe him.

But part of you was still shattered.

So you stayed quiet as he whispered “I love you. And I love our baby. Please… just let me prove it.”

The silence that followed his words felt heavy, and you hated that it still stirred something soft in your chest, the way he said “I love you” like it wasn’t a question, like it was something that remained, no matter how messy things had gotten between you.

But you had to be honest.

“I hated that you shut me out,” you said, voice trembling but steady. “The second things got hard… you shut me out like I didn’t matter. Like we didn’t matter.”

There was a pause. You could hear a soft exhale from his side of the call, almost like he was bracing himself.

“I know,” Jeongin said quietly. “And you’re right. I did. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. Everything happened so fast, Chan got scared, I panicked, I felt like I was being pulled in ten different directions. But that’s not an excuse. I should’ve come to you. I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve trusted us.”

You didn’t answer right away, your fingers gripping your phone tighter as his voice cracked just slightly on the last word.

“I’m sorry,” he added, and this time it sounded so sincere, so raw, you had to close your eyes. “Just… let me make it right. Let me prove to you that I can be better. That I want to be better. For you, and for the baby.”

A long breath escaped you, your shoulders sagging under the emotional weight you’d been carrying for days. “Okay,” you whispered. “Okay, Jeongin.”

You could hear the shift in him, like his body physically relaxed through the call. A little smile laced his voice when he said, “Thank you… really. Thank you. You have no idea how scared I’ve been. I missed you so much. How’s the baby?”

That question, gentle, hopeful, real made something stir inside you again. A different kind of ache. One that reminded you that this wasn’t just about pain and betrayal. There was still something beautiful in the center of all this chaos. A little life. A little piece of both of you.

“They’re okay,” you murmured, brushing your fingers lightly over your still-flat stomach. “I haven’t had a check-up since last week, but everything looked good. I’ve been eating more, resting when I can. The girls are spoiling me.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound familiar and warm. “Good. You deserve to be spoiled. Both of you.”

There was a small pause.

Then, you said it softly, hesitantly, unsure how it would land. “When the hiatus gets announced… I might be going home for a bit.”

The smile you heard in his voice faded almost instantly. “Home?” he repeated, and you could already hear the resistance in his tone. “Like, back to your parents’?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “The company thinks it’s better if I’m away for a while. And honestly… I miss it. I need some space. Somewhere quiet. Familiar.”

“I get it,” he said slowly, but you could tell he didn’t like it. “But… that means I won’t see you. At all.”

You sighed. “That’s kind of the point, Jeongin. I need time. I need to think. And I need to be somewhere that doesn’t feel like it’s falling apart.”

He was quiet, clearly trying to figure out how to respond without pushing too hard. “I want to be there for you,” he finally said, and there was a quiet desperation behind the words. “I know I messed up. But I want to be part of this, even if I have to earn back your trust. Even if I only get scraps of you for a while.”

“I’m not doing this to punish you,” you told him softly. “I just… I need to feel safe again. And right now, that means going home.”

He didn’t fight it. Not really. He just let out a small, broken sigh. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll wait. Just… keep texting me, okay? Updates about you. About them. Even if I can’t be there. Just let me know you’re okay.”

“I will,” you promised, and your heart ached again at the quiet hope in his voice.

The call ended gently this time. No harsh words. No slamming silence.

Just two people, scared and trying.

Trying to figure out how to stay whole while everything around them changed.

The past few days had felt like a blur. Everything was moving too fast, yet at the same time, it felt like you were wading through thick, heavy air, each step forward feeling heavier than the last. You knew this day was coming, but knowing didn’t make it easier.

Today, your company would announce your hiatus.

Even though you had agreed to it, even though you had accepted it as your best option, the reality of it hit differently now that it was here. Your group had worked so hard to get to where you were. You had dreamed of this for years, sacrificed so much, given every piece of yourself to this life. And now… you were stepping back.

It terrified you.

What if things changed while you were gone? What if the group went on without you and you came back only to feel like an outsider? What if the fans turned their backs on you? And worse, what if they never took you back?

The girls had been with you all morning, refusing to leave you alone as you refreshed your phone, waiting for the official statement to drop. Minsu had even stolen your phone at one point, forcing you to sit down and eat something while they all kept an eye on the internet for you. You appreciated them more than you could put into words. They had been your rock through this, never once making you feel like a burden, never once making you feel like you were going through this alone.

When the statement finally did go up, your heart practically stopped.

Your company had kept the announcement simple.

"Due to health-related concerns, Y/N will be taking an extended hiatus from all group activities. We deeply apologize to fans for the sudden news and ask for your understanding as she prioritizes her health and recovery. Thank you for your continued support."

That was it. No further details, no hints at the real reason, just a vague explanation that left everything open to speculation. Within minutes, the internet was ablaze with reactions. Fans were confused, some were worried, some were already coming up with wild theories. It was exactly what you had been dreading.

And then there was your statement, an apology letter written by you, reviewed by the company, and now posted for the world to see. You had rewritten it a dozen times before finally settling on something that felt like you. It wasn’t much, just a brief message apologizing to the fans, thanking them for their love and support, and asking them to wait for you.

You didn’t dare check the comments.

Instead, you sat there, your hands shaking, your breath uneven.

Minsu immediately reached for you, pulling you into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay,” she murmured. “We’re right here. We’re not going anywhere.”

Jinae sat down beside you, rubbing your back. “They’ll understand. And the ones who don’t? They were never really here for you in the first place.”

Chae nodded. “And besides, this isn’t forever. You will come back. And when you do, we’ll be right here waiting.”

You bit your lip, nodding as you blinked back tears. “I just… I hate leaving like this. I hate lying to them.”

Jinae squeezed your shoulder. “I know. But you’re not lying, okay? You do need this break. You do need to take care of yourself. And when you’re ready, you will tell your story. On your own terms.”

You exhaled shakily, nodding again. “Thank you,” you whispered.

The moment was interrupted by the buzz of your phone on the table. Minsu handed it back to you, and your heart skipped when you saw Jeongin’s name.

Jeongin: I just saw the announcement. Are you okay?

Jeongin: Call me if you need anything, okay?

You stared at the messages for a moment before typing back a quick, I’m okay. Just overwhelmed.

Almost instantly, the typing bubbles appeared.

Jeongin: I know. I wish I could be there with you.

Jeongin: Just say the word, and I’ll come.

You swallowed hard, fingers hesitating over your screen. You wanted to see him. You missed him. But you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

Instead, you just typed, Not yet. But soon.

His response came immediately.

Jeongin: I’ll be waiting.

The first few weeks of your hiatus were strange. For years, your life had been nothing but rehearsals, performances, interviews, and constant movement. Every single day had been filled with something, training, traveling, promoting. You had barely had time to breathe, let alone do nothing.

But now, your days felt… empty.

The girls would wake up early and rush off to schedules, photoshoots, meetings while you stayed behind. At first, it felt like a much-needed break. You could sleep in, take long showers, eat at a normal pace instead of scarfing down meals between rehearsals. You caught up on dramas you had missed, scrolled through social media, and actually had time to sit and just exist.

But then, the boredom hit.

At first, you tried to keep yourself occupied reading, sketching, even attempting to write lyrics for fun. But there was only so much you could do when you were practically trapped inside. The company had strongly advised against going out too much. They didn’t want any risk of you being spotted, and more than that, they wanted to avoid any unnecessary speculation. That meant no public outings unless absolutely necessary, no random shopping trips, not even visiting family.

You understood why, but it was suffocating.

Most days, you were alone in the dorm. The silence was deafening.

The only thing keeping you sane were the calls.

Jeongin called you every night without fail. Sometimes he’d call during the day too, quick check-ins between his own schedules. He always asked how you were feeling, if you were eating well, if you needed anything. Some nights, he’d talk until you fell asleep, his voice the only comfort you had in the quiet.

“You must be so bored,” he said one night, chuckling softly over the phone.

“You have no idea,” you sighed. “I’ve been staring at the ceiling for an hour.”

Jeongin laughed. “I wish I could come over.”

“Me too,” you admitted.

There was a pause before he spoke again, softer this time. “Are you still feeling okay? Any nausea?”

“A little, but it’s manageable.”

“Are you craving anything? I can send something over.”

You smiled. “You already send me too much.”

“I like spoiling you,” he said, a little defensive. “Let me.”

You could practically hear the pout in his voice, and it made your heart ache. You missed him so much. The secrecy, the distance, it was starting to weigh on you.

The girls checked on you constantly too, sending messages throughout the day. If they had free time between schedules, they’d FaceTime you, making sure you weren’t completely losing your mind.

Minsu: What are you doing?

You: Laying down.

Minsu: AGAIN?!

You: What else am I supposed to do??

Minsu: Okay, new plan. I’m buying you puzzles or something. You need enrichment.

Jinae would bring back snacks for you after schedules, sometimes forcing you to sit with them while they ate so you wouldn’t be alone.

Chae started watching the same drama as you just so you’d have something to talk about.

They did everything they could to make you feel included, even when you weren’t physically there.

But still… it was hard.

Hard not to feel isolated. Hard not to feel like the world was moving on without you. Hard not to worry about the future.

How long would you be able to hide this? What would happen when the truth did come out?

And the biggest fear of all, would things ever really go back to normal?

Days turned into weeks, and soon, you found yourself slipping into a routine. Wake up, eat breakfast alone, scroll through your phone, maybe watch a drama or read something, take a nap, wait for the girls to return, talk to Jeongin at night, and then repeat.

It was monotonous, isolating, but at least predictable.

However, your body was changing.

At first, it wasn’t noticeable, just small things. You felt more exhausted, even though you weren’t doing anything strenuous. Some days, you’d wake up starving, and other days, the mere thought of food made your stomach churn. You caught yourself resting a hand on your belly absentmindedly, still struggling to grasp the reality that you were really pregnant.

But then, the real changes started.

Your clothes didn’t fit quite the same. Your favorite pair of jeans felt too tight, your stage outfits (that you still tried on for fun) didn’t zip up as easily. Even the girls noticed.

“You’re starting to show,” Chae said one evening as you stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of your hoodie.

You sighed. “I know.”

Jinae walked up behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder. “You’re okay with that, right?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know…”

You knew the inevitable was coming. You couldn’t hide this forever. Your hiatus could only serve as a cover-up for so long before questions started piling up.

And then, of course, there was him.

Jeongin.

He had been great, supportive, reassuring, always checking in. But he was still an idol. He was still promoting, still going on schedules, still in the public eye. He could pretend like none of this affected him, but you knew it did.

And your worst fear? That, despite all his promises, he’d start to resent you for it.

One night, when the girls were still out at a schedule, Jeongin called you unexpectedly.

“Hey,” you answered softly.

“You sound tired,” he said. “You okay?”

You let out a small laugh. “I think I’m always tired now.”

He chuckled. “That’s normal, right?”

“That’s what they say.”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, this time quieter.

“I want to see you.”

Your heart clenched. “Jeongin, you know that’s risky.”

“I don’t care.”

You sighed. “I care.”

He groaned. “I just, being away from you this much is killing me. I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone. You missed him too. So much. But what could you do? It wasn’t just about you two anymore.

“Just a little longer,” you whispered.

Jeongin didn’t respond right away. When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer, sadder.

“I don’t want to miss this,” he admitted. “Any of it. I want to be there.”

You felt tears prick your eyes. You knew he meant it. But you also knew that wanting something and being able to do something were two different things.

“Soon,” you whispered, more to yourself than him. “Soon.”

You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

The night had started off quietly.

You and Chae were curled up on the couch, a fluffy blanket draped over both of you as you watched a movie. It was one you had already seen before, but neither of you really cared, it was just something to fill the silence, something comforting. Chae had been extra clingy with you lately, almost as if she could sense that you needed it. She would randomly hold your hand, rest her head on your shoulder, or link arms with you when you walked around the dorm.

Tonight was no different. She was snuggled up against your side, her head resting on your shoulder while you absentmindedly rubbed circles on the back of her hand. The warmth, the weight of her against you, it was nice. It made you feel less alone

You had barely thought about your phone call with Jeongin earlier. You had buried it deep in your mind, knowing that thinking about it too much would only make you feel worse. But then..

A knock at the door.

Chae lifted her head slightly. “That might be Jinhee. She said she’d stop by to drop off something the company got you.”

You hummed in response, standing up and stretching before making your way to the door. You didn’t even hesitate before unlocking it and pulling it open.

And that’s when you saw him.

A man in all black, hood pulled up, mask covering his face, hands reaching out..

You screamed.

Chae shot up from the couch, panic flashing across her face as she rushed toward you. But then

“It’s me!”

You froze.

That voice, deep, familiar, warm.

Jeongin.

Before you could even fully process what was happening, he pushed himself inside, shutting the door quickly behind him and pulling down his mask and hat.

You smacked his chest hard.

“What the hellare you doing?!” you hissed. “You scared me half to death!”

Jeongin winced, rubbing the spot where you hit him. “Okay, ow—first of all, I did try to warn you, but you screamed too fast.”

Chae, who had been standing frozen in shock, finally snapped out of it. “Jeongin?! Are you insane?!”

He gave her an apologetic look before turning his attention back to you.

You were still fuming. “You cannot just show up like this! Do you know how risky this is?! What if someone saw you?!”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was careful. No one saw me.”

“That’s not the point!”

“I had to see you,” he said, eyes searching yours. “I couldn’t just sit around anymore.”

Your breath hitched. The raw emotion in his voice, the desperation, it made your heart ache.

Chae, sensing the tension, cleared her throat. “I… should probably go to my room.”

You turned to her, still flustered. “Chae, you don’t have to—”

“I should,” she said, giving you a knowing look before walking past you. But as she did, she whispered, “Just don’t be too loud, okay?”

Your jaw dropped. “Chae!”

Jeongin chuckled under his breath as Chae disappeared into her room, leaving the two of you alone.

You sighed, rubbing your temples before looking back at him. “You are so reckless.”

His expression softened. “I know.”

Silence settled between you. Now that the initial panic had worn off, all that was left was the overwhelming need to be near him. To touch him, hold him, feel him after weeks of nothing but phone calls and longing.

Jeongin must have felt it too because, in the next second, he was stepping closer, arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you into his chest.

And just like that, you melted.

You buried your face into his hoodie, inhaling the familiar scent of him warm, fresh, safe. His hands ran soothingly up and down your back, holding you like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

“I missed you,” he murmured into your hair.

Your fingers gripped his hoodie tighter. “I missed you too.”

More than you could even put into words.

The warmth of Jeongin's hand on your belly startled you for a moment, but it was a comforting surprise. His fingers brushed gently over the curve that was just beginning to show, the faintest outline of a baby bump that was slowly becoming impossible to hide. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering a moment longer as if he never wanted to pull away.

“I know this is scary,” you trailed off, not sure how to express everything running through your mind.

Jeongin laughed softly, the sound lifting some of the heaviness from the room. “We’ll get through it. Together.” He pulled you in again, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You melted into him, letting yourself feel safe, even if just for a moment.

You leaned against him, both of you sinking back into the couch together. His arms enveloped you like a shield from everything you were worried about the company, the fans, the possible backlash. For now, in his arms, you were allowed to forget about it all, just focusing on the warmth between you.

“What have you been doing all day?” he asked, his voice soft but full of concern.

“Honestly? Just… being bored,” you admitted, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t have anything to do anymore. No schedules, no rehearsals… Just sitting here, waiting for time to pass.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like torture.”

You nodded, feeling a little sad. The reality of the hiatus was starting to sink in, and the boredom that followed was nothing like you’d expected. It wasn’t peaceful, it was suffocating.

The two of you stayed like that, just cuddling, letting the quiet of the moment settle around you. You didn’t speak much; it wasn’t necessary. The simple act of being close to him, feeling his presence, was more than enough.

But then, you heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. You didn’t think much of it at first, probably Jinae coming back from the studio a little later than usual. However, when the door swung open and the soft click of heels followed, you immediately knew it wasn’t just her.

Jinae entered first, Jinhee followed closely behind her, her expression unreadable but not necessarily friendly.

The moment you saw her, you immediately jumped to your feet, pushing Jeongin away from you in panic. He stood up quickly as well, his eyes flicking to yours, a mixture of confusion and concern on his face.

Jinhee wasted no time. “What is this?” she asked, voice sharp. “Jeongin, you shouldn’t be here at all.”

Jeongin opened his mouth to speak, but Jinhee cut him off immediately. “No.” She shook her head, her gaze hardening. “You need to go. Now.”

Jeongin hesitated, looking at you as if searching for your permission. You bit your lip, not wanting to make it harder for him but knowing you didn’t have a choice. He had to leave. You nodded, your throat tightening, and though he didn’t want to, he respected your silent decision.

“Alright,” Jeongin muttered quietly, his voice thick with disappointment. He walked towards the door, but before leaving, he paused and glanced back at you. “I’ll… call you later, okay?”

You didn’t trust yourself to say anything, so you simply nodded, giving him a small, forced smile. Your chest felt heavy as you watched him leave, the door clicking shut behind him.

Jinhee turned to you, a disappointed look on her face. “You knew better than this. I don’t care if you’re lonely or if he’s the only one who makes you feel better. You have to think about the bigger picture.”

You couldn’t argue with her, but it stung more than you expected. You were trying to keep everything together, trying to follow the rules, but it was harder than anyone understood. You nodded apologetically, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

Jinhee didn’t seem to want to lecture you more. She handed you a small, neatly wrapped package. “This is from the company. For you and the baby.” Her tone softened just slightly as she added, “You’ll get through this. Just… take care of yourself.”

You took the gift from her, your fingers trembling slightly. “Thank you,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. She gave you a curt nod before turning to leave, the door closing quietly behind her.

You stood in the middle of the room for a long moment, staring at the gift in your hands but not really seeing it. Your mind was on Jeongin. On the way he looked when he left. You hated that you had to let him go like that, even though you knew it was necessary. You had to be smart. You couldn’t risk anything right now.

You excused yourself early that evening, retreating to your room under the pretense of needing rest. But, in truth, you just wanted to be alone. You didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Soon, your phone buzzed.

It was Jeongin.

You picked it up immediately, despite the heaviness in your chest.

“Hey,” his voice came through, soft but filled with concern. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to make things harder for you.”

You sniffled, sitting on your bed as you responded, “It’s not your fault. I just… I don’t know what to do anymore. Everything is just…”

“Stressful?” he finished for you.

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah. It’s just been so much, and I’m not sure I’m handling it very well.”

“I hate seeing you suffer like this,” he said, his voice full of empathy. “I can’t stand it. You don’t deserve any of this.”

“I don’t know what I deserve anymore,” you replied softly, the tears starting to sting your eyes again.

“Hey,” he said firmly, “you deserve so much. You deserve to be happy. And I promise, we’ll figure this out. You and me, together. Just like we always have.”

You swallowed hard, the tightness in your throat almost too much to bear. “I hope so.”

“I’ll make sure you’re okay,” he assured you. “You’re not alone in this.”

“I know. I just need you to be patient with me. I’ll figure it out, but… it’s going to take some time.”

“I’ll wait. For as long as it takes.”

You closed your eyes at his words, feeling a bittersweet warmth settle in your chest. You didn’t have all the answers, and the path ahead was far from clear. But with Jeongin by your side, you were starting to believe that, maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

For now, that was enough.

masterlist

[fs taglist: @laine2353 @emilyywhyy @d3kstar @lenfilms..]

❌proofread

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antiwhores · 26 days ago

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Bakugou seems to have an entitlement to you.

Even though you verbally express how much you hate his guts, he still tells other people that you’re his. It pisses you off more than anything.

He’s been like this since middle school. He bullied you but when someone else tried to do the same he’d loose his shit. He would corner you and dump out your entire book bag. Then you’d have to scramble to pick up the items on the floor. He would even kick some stuff away as you reached for it. Your teeth clenched at his laughter from your frustration because apparently knowing you couldn’t do anything about the treatment was so fucking hilarious to him.

That wasn’t even the worst thing you’d have to deal with from him. Even so, he’d still find a way to boast to everyone that you were his. He’d even walk you home, kicking stones in your path the entire time.

The bullying got slightly better in high school but the entitlement got worse.

He wasn’t insufferable with his treatment anymore but by then you’d hated him too much to care. He would purposely piss you off in the most casual ways. He wasn’t bullying you, he was just annoying you. It’s as if he needed you to remember of his existence.

He’d stand too close, stare relentlessly, use your stuff without asking, sit next to you uninvited, shoulder check you in the hallway, trip you, etc. It was such light treatment that you sounded absolutely crazy explaining how much you hated him for it.

You were talking to Mina about it one day and she wasn’t as understanding as you hoped.

“Wait… you think Bakugou is tormenting you because he’s showing interest in you?”

You sighed heavily,

“No, he’s not showing interest in me. Well, he’s always had interest in me… but the only thing he’s interested in is making my life terrible!”

She laughed,

“Maybe he just wants you to give him a chance. You know, he is telling everyone that you’re his wife.”

You spat out your water at that. Somehow you upgraded from girlfriend to fucking WIFE? He was surely trying to ruin your chances at teen romance just because of this stupid unwarranted grudge. You couldn’t let this happen!

You let it happen. You find yourself now, twenty years old, looking back at school with frustration. You never got a boyfriend (At least not one that you agreed to have). You hadn’t even had your first kiss! Even worse, you were still a virgin! Even worse x3, you still saw Bakugou way too often.

Somehow, whenever you were on patrol, he’d pop up. He was aggravating with his words as he followed you down the street. Your speed walking could never live up to his strides. He caught up to you easily, no matter how fast you paced.

“Why were you talking to that creep at the donut shop?”

It was so ridiculous of a question that you couldn’t hold back from answering.

“Because I wanted some fucking donuts. Also, he’s not a creep.”

Bakugou scoffed,

“I saw how he looked at you while he made those creme filled donuts. He was probably thinking about how he wanted to creme stuff my girlfriend too-“

Your face heated as you cut his vulgar comment off.

“If anything, you’re the creep for even insinuating that he was considering that! Also, I’m still not your girlfriend!”

He gave an annoyed sigh,

“When will you stop saying that? ‘I’m not your girlfriend’. We’ve been over this since middle school. You’re also my wife.”

You were too tired for this. You had hardly any sleep last night because of the mountain of reports you procrastinated and you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. You only had an hour left of your shift before you could go home and power off in your bed. You hoped that you could even drive in this condition.

“Stop following me. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Watch your step dumb-“

When did you even get on the pavement? And why were you in an alley? Your eyes struggled to stay open as you were dragged up from the concrete.

“What the fuck? When’s the last time you slept?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. It felt good to lean against him after dragging your feet all day.

“I dunno.”

Everything went blank after that. Now you’ve found yourself in an unknown bed, in the middle of the night. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life, whether its from the comfortable mattress or the strong arms wrapped around you.

Wait… arms?

You spring up at the realization that you have no idea where you are. You quickly look around to find exits but it’s too dark.

“Fucking relax, its just me.”

Bakugou’s voice, and you just now realize, his smell too. Bakugou grabs you before you can fully jump out of the bed.

“Let go of me!”

“You can whine about this in the morning. I’m tired and I know you’re tired too. Sleep.”

He cradles you in his arms so securely that theres no chance of you getting out. Your panic switches to fatigue at his body heat. The way he begins to play with your hair and the sound of him breathing have you surrendering faster than you’d care to admit. Your eyes flutter shut against Bakugou’s chest.

Maybe you can be your bully’s girlfriend just for tonight.

#long time no see #hehe #sorry guys #i was in the hospital #ive been busy with my recovery program #plus before that i was banished from tumblr #by my ex boyfriend #may he rot in the deepest pits of hell #anyways #enjoy #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #bakugou headcanons #katsuki x reader

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cutebat · 9 months ago

Text

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

Prologue (Diary Entry)

Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings

(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)

~~~~~

July 22, 2024

It's funny when someone tells their story.

Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.

Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...

Oh, God, that sounded dark.

~~~~~

For everyone who doesn't know,

Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad

Dick is a dick, like actually

Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me

Tim is a delusional bitch

Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground

Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes

Alfred... I guess is just Alfred

~~~~~

I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.

Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.

I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".

Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!

Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?

Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.

Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.

So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.

And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!

~~~~~

After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.

I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...

I quit being Batgirl.

I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?

So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.

~~~~~

But then one year all of that almost changed?

For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!

It was like really cool!

The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.

It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.

Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.

And then life was like FUCK THAT!

~~~~~

After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.

So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.

He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.

Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!

I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!

All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.

~~~~~

So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.

But whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters...

My life is just a game.

A sick, hopeless game.

#yandere #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam #batfamily #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #neglected reader #platonic #yandere dc

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miumura · 5 months ago

Text

WAiTiN’ ON CALLS — S. JAEYUN 𓂃 ⭑

( 엔하이픈 제이크 ) : jake misses you — too much for his own liking. he tries to move on, and by doing so, he gives you one last call. usually it would go directly to voicemail, but instead, he was greeted with you on the other line.

──── ex!jake x gn ! r . . . ⌕ ex 2 lovers, second chance, angst, fluff ∿ 𝔀ord count 2.1K+ ( 2196 ) ╱ HAPPY BF JAKE DAY 🤍 i’ve been dying to write a fic using this pic of jake ever since it got posted … so this is for me and my jake baes 🤍

Jake knew he was beyond exhausted—so tired that all he could manage after work was to head straight for his bed, not even bothering to take off his suit.

But despite the dim lighting and the comfort of sinking into his mattress, sleep refused to come. He tossed and turned, tried counting sheep, but nothing worked. Frustrated, he sat up, turning on the radio to a soft, quiet tune as he stared at his phone.

He already knew what was on his mind.

His gaze settled on his contact list, focusing on one name—yours.

He missed you, more than he cared to admit. His eyes lingered on your icon, a picture he’d secretly taken during one of your dates. You’d demanded he delete it, but he never did. Instead, he kept it as a reminder of you, proudly showing it off whenever he got the chance.

A small, bittersweet smile crept onto his lips as his eyes trailed down to your name, the ache in his chest growing a little heavier.

My Love. He never bothered changing it—that name was reserved for you, and only you. Was it strange for him to keep it that way? He wasn't sure, but what he did know was that no matter what, you’d always be his love, even if he was the only one who still believed it.

Should he call you again?

His finger hovered over your name, hesitating—a rare feeling for him. He’d always called before, whenever he had a free moment. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, just a way to clear his head, but it had become a habit. Strangely enough, he found relief in those calls. They always went straight to voicemail, and he was certain you never listened to them.

That’s where he poured his heart out, leaving messages that no one would hear. It was sad, but in a way, comforting—like shouting into the void, knowing there'd be no echo, no response.

He often wondered why you hadn’t blocked him yet. Maybe, if you did, it would finally force him to move on.

Maybe that would give him the push he needed to let go.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. He was the one holding onto the past, the one clinging to old habits. Why did he think calling you, of all things, would help him get over you? Even if someone asked him, he wouldn’t know how to explain it.

Maybe he didn’t really want to.

Maybe, just maybe, he was still hoping for something—anything—from you.

He just wanted to hear your voice again, even though it felt impossible at this point. Pressing his lips together, he finally tapped the call button. Placing the phone on his thigh, Jake ran a hand through his hair, unable to look at the screen as the rings buzzed in the quiet room.

As usual, he fully expected you wouldn’t answer.

Normally, the sting of disappointment would hit him when you let his calls go unanswered, but tonight felt different. Tonight, everything was going to change.

This would be the last time he stared at your contact, the last time he pressed your number, and the last voicemail he'd leave. Tonight, he was finally going to say goodbye.

Tonight—

"Hello?"

His body went still.

For a moment, Jake couldn’t believe it. Your voice, so familiar yet distant, cut through the static of the call. He had rehearsed this moment over and over in his mind, but now that it was real, his words were trapped in his throat.

"Jake?" you repeated, sounding confused, maybe even concerned. "Are you there?"

He swallowed, trying to collect himself. "Hey," he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I didn’t expect you to pick up."

There was a brief silence on the other end, making his heart race, before you spoke again. "I didn’t expect to get so many calls... or all the voicemails."

"You... you listened to them?" he asked, barely able to believe it.

“Caught up on all of it yesterday,” you admitted, your voice surprisingly calm. “You really sent a lot, huh?”

Jake’s heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out his own thoughts. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The plan to say goodbye, the resolution he had built up in his mind, seemed to dissolve the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t want to mess this up—he couldn’t.

“I still didn’t expect you to actually listen to them,” he said, his voice shakier than he wanted it to be.

“How could I not?” you chuckled softly, attempting to ease the awkward tension. It was strange, both of you knew it. Talking to your ex, someone you swore you’d never contact again, felt surreal.

And yet, here you were—on the phone, waiting for him to say something more.

Jake took a breath, the weight of his next words heavy on his chest. "I was planning on this being the last call,” he confessed. “Since you never really picked up... I figured I was just bothering you."

There was a pause on the other end, and he held his breath, wondering what you’d say next.

"Would it be wrong to say I had a feeling?" you finally replied, voice soft.

"How could you tell?"

"Just... a gut feeling," you said, as if searching for the right words. "Or maybe because… I knew you."

His heart couldn’t help but falter—he knew you were not lying. You did know him, deeply once. But that closeness had slipped away when life had led you down different paths.

"Yeah," was all he could muster, the simplicity of the word masking the storm of emotions within him. He wasn’t sure how to move forward, or if he even wanted to.

“Do you mean every single voice message?” you asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you two. Jake’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the question.

“Of course I do,” he replied, gripping his phone tightly, as if it could somehow bridge the distance between you. His heart was pounding; he needed to make this count. “There isn’t a single thing I’ve sent to you that I’d ever want to take back. Every word was real. It’s exactly how I feel about you... about us.”

For a moment, vulnerability hung between you, both knowing this conversation could change everything. Jake could only hope you’d feel it too, that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to turn this into something more.

“Come see me then.”

“Huh?” Jake’s breath hitched, unsure if he’d heard you right.

“You’re not going to leave me hanging this time, are you?” you asked with a light chuckle, though your voice held a hint of nervousness. You hoped the laughter would mask how your heart was pounding, racing in anticipation.

Jake barely registered the words before he was scrambling to grab his keys, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. “Not this time,” he stammered, his voice shaking with excitement and a touch of panic. He could feel his pulse hammering as he fumbled with his shoes, trying to keep his hands steady.

The thought of seeing you, of finally closing the distance he’d been feeling for so long, filled him with both anticipation and nervous energy.

"Take your time," you teased, though he could hear the faintest tremor in your voice, as if you were trying to calm yourself, too. But he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—wait.

He barely managed to lock his door, nearly tripping as he rushed down the stairs. His mind raced, playing over every word, every message he’d sent, wondering if this was finally his chance to make things right.

As he reached his car, hands fumbling for his keys, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus, to drive safely. But his heart wouldn’t slow, each beat pushing him forward with a desperate urgency.

Jake barely remembered the drive over, his mind racing faster than the car itself. As he pulled up in front of your house, he felt a fresh wave of nerves settle over him. He sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady his breath.

This was it.

With a final deep breath, he stepped out of the car and walked up the path to your door, his heart pounding with every step. He hesitated before raising his hand to knock, his mind swirling with questions.

But before he could overthink it, the door swung open, and there you were, standing there in the soft glow of your porch light. For a split second, neither of you spoke, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.

“Hi,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips, though he could see the same nervousness reflected in your eyes. “Still in your work attire?”

Jake looked down, realizing for the first time that he was still in his slightly rumpled shirt and loosened tie, his rushed appearance suddenly feeling a bit ridiculous. He let out a small, embarrassed laugh, reaching up to grab his tie as if he could somehow hide it from you. But when he looked back up, he wore a shy smile, his eyes creasing in that gentle way that had always made your heart skip.

Before he could say anything else, you stepped closer, reaching up to fix his tie, your fingers brushing against the fabric with a delicate touch that sent a shiver down his spine. He swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. It was such a simple gesture, yet it felt like slipping back into something deeply familiar, a memory that had never truly faded.

“There,” you murmured softly as you adjusted the tie, smoothing out the collar. Your hand lingered for just a second longer, and in that moment, Jake felt everything—the unspoken words, the history, the quiet yearning.

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice a little rough.

"I didn’t realize you wanted to see me that badly… especially after just finishing your shift,” you said with a hint of surprise. “You’ve always loved your job.”

Jake let out a small, wistful laugh, meeting your gaze. “Even after a long shift, that isn’t enough to distract me from you,” he admitted. You both knew how deeply he was dedicated to his work, how it had once been the thing that drew him away from you, consuming his time and energy. Something he loved had taken his real love away from him. But he couldn’t dwell on regrets now, not when this chance was standing right in front of him.

“Every time I get back from work, I have to leave a voicemail,” he confessed quietly, his words hanging between you both.

“Every night?” you asked, startled. You hadn’t realized just how much he’d been reaching out in those messages, hadn’t counted the days it had spanned. “That’s… a lot, Jake.”

He nodded, his gaze steady and sincere. “There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t thought about you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice raw with honesty.

You looked at him, noticing how he pressed his lips together, a nervous habit he’d never quite outgrown. His hair was neatly parted, and his suit fit him perfectly, accentuating the small changes time had brought to him. Somehow, he looked even better than you remembered—or maybe it was simply because you’d missed him more than you’d realized.

“Jake,” you murmured, almost as if testing his name again, letting it fill the space between you both. “I really missed you too.”

At your words, Jake’s face lit up, his cheeks lifting with a smile he couldn’t contain, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure. He quickly looked away, clearing his throat, but when he turned back, his grin only grew wider as he saw your own smile mirroring his.

“Then… would you let me stay the night?” he asked softly, his voice hopeful, though almost immediately he seemed to second-guess himself. His smile faltered as he began to backpedal, a nervous laugh escaping. “Or, if that’s too much, we could just sit outside, or… in my car? Just to talk, to catch up—or maybe just to let me finally say all these things I’ve kept hidden.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, finding his nervous rambling unexpectedly endearing. It was hard to remember the last time you’d seen Jake like this—unsure, almost shy. Without another word, you reached out and grabbed his arm, gently tugging him inside.

“You can stay,” you said, a warmth in your voice that eased the lingering tension in the air.

Jake blinked in surprise, his nervous expression melting into something more tender as he stepped inside. The familiar warmth of your home wrapped around him, but it was the simple presence of you that truly eased him. He hadn’t realized how much he'd longed for this—just to be near you again.

As he looked at you, a quiet realization washed over him, clear and undeniable. He wasn’t just here because he needed to be; he was here because he wanted to be.

Wherever you were, that was where he wanted to be too.

‘💬’ ─── may active soph come back after this one 😖!

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

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lacydollette · 4 months ago

Note

Lol, this is from my own current personal angst in my life but I was thinking it can be used for an angsty Rafe x Reader. I have very low self esteem, I don't think I look pretty so I have a hard time accepting that a guy could be interest in me or find me appealing, especially cuz guys have called ''mid''. Right now I'm talking to THE sweetest guy. THE most greenest flag of all. Super respectful, mature and kind. I had a freakout and pushed him away, wanted to stop talking. He got super upset, send me a drunk text basically being like ''I'm so attracted to u and your everything I've ever dreamt of. I just wanna make you happy and make you smile. Your so special to me. I keep saying that your beautiful, amazing and gorgeous but you won't hear it. Please don't let your insecurites get in the way of us. I fkn miss you'' I mean...hey feel free to take whatever inspiration you want from that, change it, build on it, whatever you want! We just want a sappy head over heels Rafe who is heartbroken being pushed away (but with a happy ending)

a/n tysm for sharing this with me! and please don’t let your doubts get in the way of your happiness. you are BEAUTIFUL and you MATTER ❤️‍🩹 i hope u like this little piece.

warnings rafe cameron x fem!reader, reader with low self esteem, situationship, angst, fluff, rafe being a sweetheart

Rafe couldn’t really tell when it started, but he could feel it in your forced smiles and short responses. He tried to convince himself it was nothing, but the ache in his chest told him otherwise. Every attempt to figure out what he had done wrong was met with your dismissive shrug and a short, “I’m fine.”

But what Rafe didn’t know about was the chaos in your mind. You liked him—really liked him—but your insecurities were keeping you from letting yourself fall completely. You couldn’t ignore the way girls seemed to flirt with Rafe at parties, the way people whispered that you weren’t pretty or cool enough, to be with someone like him. It didn’t matter how many times he told you that you were beautiful—the doubt in your mind drowned out his words. So, you began to pull away, convinced it was only a matter of time before he realized you weren’t what he wanted.

And that’s why Rafe ended up going to this party alone, although it should have been a night that you two spend together. You had promised to go, only to back out at the last minute with a stupid excuse about not feeling well. Rafe knew you were lying. Obviously he didn’t want to go without you, but after Topper wouldn’t stop begging him, he gave in.

He spent the first hour trying to lose himself in the crowd, nursing a beer and pretending to laugh at Topper’s jokes, but it was useless. Every girl who tried to flirt with him only reminded him of you, and every drink made the knot in his chest tighten. Eventually, he escaped out into the yard, needing space to think—or maybe just to breathe.

The cool night air sobered him slightly, but not enough to stop him from pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over your contact before he finally hit call. It rang three times before you picked up.

“Rafe?” You said softly, voice trembling slightly. You winced at how vulnerable you sounded.

“hi, baby.” he said, his voice breaking slightly before going right in. “What’s going on with you? Please, just tell me. Did I do something? Did I hurt you somehow? Because if I did, fuck I swear to God, I didn’t mean to.”

Your throat tightened, guilt twisting in your stomach. He sounded so desperate, so unlike the confident, self-assured Rafe you knew. You didn't know what to say, how to explain something you couldn't even fully understand yourself.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep guessing what’s wrong. I care about you too much to lose you like this.” His voice cracked, and he raked a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “I’m completely crazy about you. I don’t care about anyone else. You’re it for me. You’re the only one I want.”

Your heart shattered at his words. He cared about you, really cared about you. But how could he? How could someone like Rafe Cameron, with his perfect smile and effortless charm, care about someone like you?

"Rafe..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. “No,” he interrupted. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. I think about you all the time—when I wake up, when I go to sleep. You’re all I want, y/n. And if there’s even a part of you that feels the same way—then please, stop pushing me away.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Rafe leaned against a tree, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. Then he heard you breathe out, followed by muffled sobs, which you tried so hard to suppress by pressing your palm over your mouth. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words sink in and erase all your doubts. But the fear was still there.

“I didn’t think I was enough for you,” you finally whispered, voice trembling. “You could have anyone, Rafe. And people keep saying I don’t deserve you, and maybe they’re right.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice rising as he couldn’t believe that you’d actually think that. “Baby, you’re more than enough. You’re everything. Don’t let what other people say get in your head. They don’t know you. They don’t know us.”

Your sniffle came through the line, and he could picture you wiping your tears, head bowed like it always was when you were upset. “I just… I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” he replied softly. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane.” He paused. “Please, just let me in. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and you believed him. Believed that he was serious about you two. “Okay.” You said. Relief washed over him, and he exhaled shakily. “Okay,” he repeated, his lips curving into a smile. “I’m coming to you right now.”

Your eyes widened, “No, Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said firmly. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to you. We’ll figure this out together.” And with that, he ended the call, his heart pounding with determination. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

#blurbs ₊˚⊹♡#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader

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cheapshrimpysheep · 5 months ago

Note

I read the rules and I hope I'm not doing something against them! I have a cute request... Headconan with the Pomefiore trio (Vil, Rook, Epel Separately) and a female reader who was tasked with taking care of a newborn for a day (I didn't think whose child is this honestly lol I just liked the idea.) and she ask them to help her :3

COMMENTS: I liked the idea! The only problem is that I have 0 experience with children, let alone babies. 😅 So I asked a friend of mine who has taken care of newborns to help me, and she did such a good job that I ended up writing more than I expected. 💜

I hope you and all enjoy it 👶

CHARACTERS: Pomefiore (Vil Schoenheit / Epel Felmier / Rook Hunt)

TAGS: Fluff; Fem Reader; Headcanons; Flirting

WORD COUNT: An average of 680 words per character.

CONTEXT: You hear someone knocking on the door of Ramshackle Dorm and when you open it you find Professor Trein holding in his arms, not Lucius, but a baby.

He explains to you that one of his daughters showed up to visit him and the island, but she needed to do something and asked Professor Trein to take care of his grandson for a while. But Professor Trein still has work to do and can't take care of the baby at the same time, so he asks you to take care of him for a day until his daughter comes back.

He also tells you that if you need help, ask Pomefiore's students as they are some of the ones he trusts most.

“Me? Help take care of a baby? I have never done such a thing. Why would you ask me for help? I'm sure someone with younger siblings would be more qualified for-” Vil is interrupted by the baby who started crying in your arms. He sighs. “Sorry, I shouldn't have spoken that way. May I?”

Vil stretches his arms to ask you to hand him the baby. Despite saying he had no experience with children, he picks up the baby with incredible delicacy.

“You're right, you're right. I shouldn't speak so harshly in front of you.” He says in the sweetest voice you've ever heard from him, as he rocks a little and smiles at the baby. The baby starts to calm down and looks at Vil's face in amazement.

“Someone has good taste.” He chuckles, then looks at you. “Very well, I'll help you. But only because this is Professor Trein's grandson. However, I'm also curious to see how you do on this task.”

Whenever the baby starts crying for some reason, Vil is always very calm about it. No matter how many failed attempts to understand what the baby needs, he will never show any kind of frustration. At least not near the baby.

If the baby is crying because he has a dirty diaper: The first time this happens, Vil will ask you to change it so he can see how it's done. And if it happens again he will offer to do it that time. The two of you will take turns whenever this happens afterwards.

If the baby is crying because he is hungry and needs a bottle, Vil will offer to prepare the milk in the healthiest way for a baby. But he will ask you to be the one to feed the baby.

While you give the baby a bottle, Vil will watch you. Not to check if you are doing it correctly, but to enjoy the sight of you doing it. You can't read minds, so he can imagine that this is your beautiful baby as much as he wants. If you look at him, he will simply smile at you.

If the baby is crying because he is sleepy and Vil offers to try to rock him, you will see him standing and rocking gently while singing a lullaby with his beautiful voice. He will look at you at some point and smirk at your admiring gaze. “You and this baby are lucky.” He will whisper after the baby falls asleep. “I have never sung exclusively for anyone.”

If you rock the baby and sing him a lullaby, Vil will look at you with admiration and affection. And if, by chance, you are singing a song that he knows, he will join you and the two of you will sing together. He will even get closer to you and in the end you will see the baby sleeping in your arms and between the two of you. Vil will smile smugly and whisper to you: “Be careful if you brag about this to anyone. There are people who would kill to be in your place.”

While the baby is sleeping, the two of you will try to entertain yourself in quiet ways. Vil will continue with his usual routines if he can and make you join him. Any beauty treatments he does like skin care, he will do them to you too.

If the baby is crying because he is simply in need of some affection, you will probably be the person in charge of that. Vil will see you talking to the baby, hugging him and giving him little kisses on the cheek, maybe even talking to him in that baby voice.

Vil will start to daydream about you, imagining you taking care of his and your child. And he will smile thinking about it. Entertaining the baby will be your job. Let's face it, you're probably more fun than Vil in this regard.

If you are in a flirting phase with each other, he will approach you, hug you from behind while you hold the baby in your arms and whisper in your ear: “You would be a wonderful mother. And I know that our children would be the fairest of all.”

“You're in luck. I already had to take care of my cousin a few times when he was a newborn, so I have some type of experience at least.” Epel tells you half confident, half fearful.

Even though he wants to convey confidence, you can see that he holds the baby tensely, as if he were holding a very expensive piece of glass and was afraid of breaking it.

When the baby starts crying he immediately gets worried because there are a multitude of reasons why the baby could be crying and you both just have to guess what it is.

He will always interact with the baby with a smile, but the more failed attempts to understand what the baby needs, the more frustrated he will become and it will reach a point where he will grab you by the arm and say in despair: "WHAT DOES HE WANT?!"

If the baby is crying because he has a dirty diaper, Epel will say: "Oh, I've already changed my cousin's diapers a few times, I can take care of that."

If the baby is crying because he is hungry and needs a bottle, Epel will help you prepare the milk for the bottle.

If Epel is the one giving the baby a bottle, you will see him sitting on the sofa focusing on the baby in his arm and on the bottle. At first his expression is almost serious, but as soon as he becomes more comfortable you see him smiling at the baby. “Wow, for someone so little you have a big appetite, don't you? Heh heh.”

If you are the one giving the baby the bottle, Epel will look at you while you are distracted with the baby. If you look at him, he will look away and you will see him blushing slightly because of the things he was thinking.

If the baby is crying because he is sleepy and Epel offers to try to rock him, you will see him standing and rocking gently while singing a lullaby from his homeland with that dialect that you only understand half the words. And you will hear him sing with that sweet voice he has.

If you rock the baby and sing him a lullaby, Epel will look at you with admiration and affection. And if, by chance, you are singing a song that he knows, he will join you and the two of you will sing together. He will even get closer to you and in the end you will see the baby sleeping in your arms and between the two of you. Epel will blush and turn away.

While the baby is sleeping, the two of you will try to entertain yourself in quiet ways. Good chance he'll start carving some apples for you.

If the baby is crying because he is simply in need of some affection, you will probably be the person in charge of that. Epel will see you talking to the baby, hugging him and giving him little kisses on the cheek, maybe even talking to him in that baby voice.

Epel will start to daydream about you, but he won't even dream of telling you anything about it. Eventually, he may join you in making the baby happy.

“You are asking me for help with taking care of a baby? BEAUTÉ! Oh, what a wonderful experience to go through with you of all people! ... If I have any experience with babies? Absolutely none! Isn't that exciting?” He says with an enthusiastic smile and not at all worried, unlike you.

The first time he asks to hold the baby, you may even be reluctant to let him do it. “Protective already?” He smiles at you in admiration. “Indeed, there is no more beautiful and inspiring power in nature than the fierce protection of a mother. Or of any woman over a child. I am so extremely lucky to be able to see this side of you.”

But if you eventually let him hold the baby, you will see him take great care when holding him. And looking at the baby with an extremely affectionate look. “To think that we all started out in this world so fragile. La beauté de la nature.”

When the baby starts crying he will be...excited about it? He genuinely enjoys having to figure out what the baby needs and failing in his attempts. “Oh, we haven't figured it out yet? What could it be?” He says smiling.

If the baby is crying because he has a dirty diaper: The first time this happens, Rook will ask you to change it so he can see how it's done. He can learn and appreciate you at the same time. And if it happens again he will gladly offer to do it that time. The two of you will take turns whenever this happens afterwards.

If the baby is crying because he is hungry and needs a bottle, Rook will help you prepare the milk for the bottle.

Just like with diapers, the first time this happens Rook will ask you to be the one to give the bottle to the baby so he can see how it’s done. However, he learns quickly in the first few seconds. The rest of the time he will simply enjoy the sight of you doing it. And if you look at him, he won't look away, you'll see him looking at you with an extremely admiring and affectionate look, and smiling at you with a slight blush on his face.

After that, if it happens again, Rook will gladly offer to be the one to give the baby the bottle this time. You will see him sitting on the sofa, smiling while focus on the baby in his arm, at least in the beginning. As he begins to feel more comfortable, you will see his shoulders relax. If he looks at you and sees you looking at him with a certain kind of affection, he will smile broadly.

If the baby is crying because he is sleepy, Rook will immediately offer to sing a lullaby to him. But he will teach it to you first in case you don't know, so you can sing it together. Rook will ask you to be the one holding the baby. You can see that he feels more protected and relaxed with you (I wonder why). As you sing, Rook will focus on you while you focus on the baby.

While the baby is sleeping, Rook's attention will remain focused on you. He will join you for any activity you want to do to entertain yourself.

If the baby is crying because he is simply in need of some affection, Rook will try to fulfill this role, but even for a baby his love seems to be too much, and the baby starts to struggle in his arms because he wants you to be the one to give him affection. Rook will be a little sad that he was rejected so brutally honestly, but will be very happy to see you making the baby happy. However, he will continue to help in any way he can.

Rook will see you talking to the baby, hugging him and giving him little kisses on the cheek, maybe even talking to him in that baby voice. And he will start to daydream about you. “You truly are a source of light and comfort. It's impossible not to be captivated by you and this baby is proof of that.”

If you are in a flirting phase with each other, he will go deeper with his praises. “Any child of yours will be deeply fortunate to have you as a mother.” He will come closer to you and whisper to you. “And I wonder if I would have such a privilege to be by your side to raise them. Maybe even help you make them. And see how wonderful it would be to see the two of us together as one... or more.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#3K followers #3K followers milestone #Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #twst requests #Twisted Wonderland requests #requests #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Epel Felmier #Epel Felmier x Reader #Rook Hunt #Rook Hunt x Reader

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ciciyup · 4 months ago

Text

Pack Wolf X Fem! Reader who doesn't reciprocate his feelings headcanons.

Summary: In their wanderings, they find their imprint as soon as they see her for the first time; However, she doesn't seem to feel the same way.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

Sam Uley:

Seeing you for the first time, he would have almost involuntarily gotten down on his knees if it hadn't been that they were in a public place and you were accompanied. It was something unique, something he didn't expect, but there you were, and Sam felt the need to get close to you no matter what. Him approaching you to talk about whatever as an excuse to get to know you wasn't rough enough; he needed to see you again.

As soon as he brought up any kind of topic he noticed how incredibly kind you were when you addressed him, but he also noticed how you didn't even seem to be feel the same. There was no spark in your eyes, no accelerated breathing, no special something that seemed to unite you. You were supposed to be soulmates, weren't you? You were supposed to be perfect for each other, so why as time went on did you seem to treat him like any other normal person? Why wasn't there "that" something in your eyes when you looked at him? Sam had imprinted himself on you, he knew it, everyone knew it, but they also seemed to notice his constant attempts to be closer to you, his constant silent pain.

You treated him well of course, you were friendly to everyone on the reservation, you were sweet to Sam more than he could ask for, but he still didn’t seem to be strong enough with his advances for you to see him the way he was expected. Even after explaining his secret and about the imprint, you seemed to try to feel a connection with him; you spent time by his side, you did everything you could, but the feeling just didn’t seem to be there. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t feel the connection and as time went on you began to wear yourself out and try to find something that just wasn’t there. Finally explaining to him that you couldn’t go on and giving him a clear rejection.

Even though your rejection seemed to hurt him much more than expected, he decided to suffer in silence, prioritizing your feelings over his. Sam would become understanding and calm, not losing his temper, even though he knew how painful it would be, knowing that imprinting shouldn't be forced. Though promising that if only you wanted him, he would be there for you, a good friend or brother, even a companion. Imprinting would involve prioritizing your well-being above all else, so Sam would do everything he could to make sure you were happy and safe, even if that meant keeping his distance so as not to make you uncomfortable.

Though Sam would try to be understanding, the pain he felt was indescribable. Even though you hadn't cut him out of your life completely, just being so far away from you would be hard to handle, starting to feel internal conflict due to the intensity of the imprint itself, having moments where it's hard for him to deal with the lack of reciprocity, seeking support in his pack or those closest to him to handle his emotions.

If you allowed them to stay close, even without a romantic bond, Sam would try to be a reliable friend, being there for you when you needed it, a shoulder to cry on, someone to tell your problems to; whatever you wanted, he would do it. Acting quite mature and empathetic, focusing on what's best for you, even if it meant giving up his own feelings.

Paul Lahote:

Being someone with an explosive temper, Paul probably wouldn't handle rejection well. Trying to get close to you intensely as soon as he meets you, mistaking your lack of reciprocation for shyness or fear towards him, as if you weren't looking at him confused enough since you barely know him and he already seemed to know you all your life. Even though you treated him friendly, he could immediately tell that there didn't seem to be that emotion in your chest upon meeting him, leading to frustration with the pack, following him on the way home, trying to reassure him and explain to him that it would take some time and you would finally agree. It didn't.

Despite his frustration, the instinct to protect you would be greater, as seeing you every few days wouldn't be enough to calm him down, frequently showing up to make sure you were okay, even without you asking, which could seem invasive.

Over time, Paul would have several changes in attitude; The great irritability would be clear to everyone in the pack, and the growing, unstoppable pain would lead him to have fits of rage at anyone who crossed his path, though he would avoid taking it out on you, deciding to walk away, which only made it worse by being away from you. He would feel hurt and disoriented, not being able to understand how it was possible that you didn’t feel the same; you were made for each other, he had imprinted on you. Why was nothing happening? Why was it different with you when you were supposed to be the perfect match for each other?

You tried, you seemed to try many times, more than you could imagine, wishing you could feel the same so that both of your suffering would end, but it wasn’t like that; you couldn’t manage to feel anything and you couldn’t force yourself any further.

Although Paul was unconditionally devoted to you because of the imprint, he would also begin to realize that forcing your feelings was not only unfair to you, but painful to both of you. Trying to stay away and trying to figure out how to handle the situation. Even though Paul was stubborn, he wasn't completely insensitive. His loyalty to the pack and its values would drive him to show respect for your feelings and be a silent support for you. Understanding that imprinting didn't mean control or obligation for you, he would start to act more understanding and respectful, prioritizing what you wanted. Still, he couldn't help but care about you, protecting you whether silently or not from any danger, be it supernatural or human, trying to do so discreetly so as not to make you uncomfortable.

With time and the help of Sam or the other pack members, Paul could accept that their bond cannot be forced. Choosing to be close to you as a friend or support in your life if you so desired, and if so, he would remain as someone protective and loyal, focusing on your well-being and happiness. Although rejection would not be easy for Paul, as he would feel a void in not being able to live the fullness he expected from imprinting, he would learn to accept it with resignation and maturity and less impulsiveness. Even without reciprocation, Paul would continue to feel a connection and be willing to do or be whatever you wanted without expecting anything in return.

Embry Call:

He had always heard about the stories of imprinting and its importance; most of his companions in the pack already had their imprints, although he understood it, he never really understood it, until he met you. It was a very strong pass on the ball, making his companions ask him to go get it, being the closest, and at the edge of the water there was you, who quickly grabbed the ball that was hitting your feet to give it to its owner.

The first contact was different, very different from what Embry had imagined; everything seemed to stop after seeing you, the waves of the sea and the noise of his companions playing seemed far away and took a backseat; everything was reduced only to you. Approaching somewhat nervously, not knowing how to act, he managed to have a brief chat with you, internally hoping that you would agree to see him again. Yes, of course he had noticed your great lack of emotion or bright eyes; It wasn't how his companions had told him in their own experiences, but Embry wanted to believe that maybe it was different with you, maybe it would take a little longer.

Although he approached it with patience and understanding, he would still be confused after not noticing any change in his advances towards you without achieving anything, trusting more than he should, with a silent hope that, with time, you could come to feel something for him. However, he would never act selfishly to force this possibility.

Embry would begin to experience an internal struggle during the following days. Sure, he felt a deep and unbreakable connection towards you, but, on the other hand, the lack of reciprocity on your part would cause him emotional pain. Although he would not be upset with anyone, much less with you, the feeling would squeeze his chest tightly. At those times he would try to seek help from the pack, trying to understand and deal with his pain, some of them even trying to advise him or encourage him to focus on your needs instead of his feelings so he wouldn't suffer so much.

In the face of your rejection, Embry would react immediately; the pain was inevitable, but the imprinting would lead him to accept this reality, putting his personal feelings on the back burner. Even if you didn't feel anything towards him, Embry would dedicate his life to protecting and supporting you, your well-being being his priority. Behaving gently, making sure not to cross boundaries that would make you feel uncomfortable. Being close to you when you needed him, acting as a calm and reliable guardian. He would try to establish a friendly relationship with you if you wanted it. Trying to understand your interests, your passions and the things that made you happy, adapting to your needs. Probably looking to spend time with you casually, so that the pain of separation in the bond that united you didn't hurt him too much, but at the same time he would try not to suffocate or overwhelm you. Trying to maintain a fun and relaxed attitude to make you feel comfortable and maintain a good atmosphere.

If you were to express at any point that you needed space or didn't want a close relationship, he would accept it, even though it would inevitably hurt him. Embry would completely respect your wishes and feelings, as well as your boundaries. Imprinting would guide him to be patient and understanding, willing to wait or just accept whatever you decided. Even if you didn't feel the same way, it would be hard for Embry to stay completely away because of the bond. Trying to be close in indirect ways, helping you without you realizing it, or making sure you were safe.

Although Embry would accept anything you asked him to be or do, he would act with great devotion, dealing with his own pain with dignity, striving to be positive in your life. The situation would be somewhat complicated and painful, but his character would allow him to find ways to cope with it without ceasing to be faithful to the bond that has been created, putting your happiness and well-being above all, only wishing the best for you, even if that meant seeing you with another person.

Quil Ateara:

At first, he might not fully understand why he was attracted to someone in particular, as it wouldn’t be something that happened consciously, but rather something instinctive. Seeing you for the first time only makes him feel confused and disoriented; he knows that he is something strong, something unique, needing to be closer to you.

His protective and caring nature would come to the fore, making him inclined to do everything he could to get closer to you and interact in some way. His pack mates would explain this to him as the poor boy seemed to still be just as confused, though unable to answer their questions as to why you didn’t seem as interested or why you didn’t seem to view him with the same affection and devotion as he had when they had first met; perhaps Sam would step in explaining that it would all be a matter of time.

While Quil would be understanding because of their bond, he would quickly become aware that you didn’t feel the same way. He could tell just by looking at you; When he arrived, There wasn't that emotion when I saw it, even if it had only been a few hours since you'd seen each other, noticing your gestures and your efforts to try to find something that didn't seem to be there, that tiredness of continuing to try something you couldn't force and that sudden distance.

This initial rejection could make him feel hurt, even if your actions weren't intentional. The pack members would be a constant support for him, but he would experience the pain internally. The impression is a powerful thing; this would make Quil put aside his regrets and feelings in order to understand you, beginning to respect your wishes and not force a relationship; however, his emotions would still be intense. He would become more attentive and protective, trying to help you in any way he could, trying to gain your trust without rushing things. He would show himself as a close friend or even a brother, doing things you liked, showing a more relaxed part of himself so you wouldn't feel pressured or uncomfortable. His desire to take care of you might be something that expresses itself in less obvious ways, such as making sure you're okay in everyday situations or trying to make you feel special.

If you were to continue to reject any attempts at closeness, whether romantic or emotional, Quil could go through severe pain due to imprinting. His nature would push him to fight for you in whatever ways necessary to even have some sort of relationship with you, even if it was minimal, but his respect for your own boundaries would keep him in check. Acceptance would be difficult, but over time, Quil could learn to live with the deep connection he feels towards you, without trying to pressure you. Making it clear to you that he would be there for you if you wanted it, like a brother or a friend, taking your health and happiness as a priority, and if you were to continue not wanting any interaction with him then Quil would accept it, prudently staying away, even trying to take care of you silently, since the bond would not let him go away completely.

Although he would approach the subject with enough maturity and patience, the pain would still be there and would not go away completely, affected by the events and why it had not worked out as expected with him regarding the imprint. He would leave room for you to make your own decisions without interfering and accepting what you wanted, but even deep down wishing that one day you could feel the same as he felt for you.

Jared Cameron:

He's confused. The imprint was supposed to be an unbreakable and deep bond, something that makes you feel like the person you're imprinted with is the only one who can fulfill your deepest needs, just as the other person should feel, in a way, the same, practically incomplete if the other wasn't there. What had gone wrong? You make him feel a great desire to protect and care for you, but in the face of this the reality check comes faster than he could prevent, realizing that you don't actually share the same feeling.

His astonishment was inexplicable, since it was incredible how in one moment he was playing with his companions and in the next seconds he saw you and everything seemed to stop. The experience was transformative and overwhelming, but it also came with the weight of understanding that you didn't feel the same. Jared can realize it, perhaps not quickly enough to notice it the first time he sees you, trying to deal with his own feelings in between, but as the days go by and as he gets closer to you, he could tell. He understood it immediately; He couldn't force you to love him on the same level. It seemed to hit him like a bucket of cold water, trying to process it as maturely as he could, but with it came frustration due to the unbreakable connection he felt and the lack of reciprocation from you; it was a constant, throbbing pain that he never imagined feeling.

The imprint bond would make him understand in part that he couldn't rush or force your feelings, just as his own personal integrity would make him understand and cope with it. He would make him respectful of your space, being kind and calm. Adopting a supportive stance, hoping that, in time, you would come to understand and accept the connection between you with or without a relationship in between.

Jared would feel a strong need to protect you due to the imprint. Driving him to be close, more than you would want. Despite his desires to be close to you, Jared would be aware of his limits, avoiding being evasive, but intervening discreetly if you were in danger. Even though the imprint makes him feel like you are his “everything,” he would understand the need to not be dominant or possessive, given that you don’t share the same feelings. Even though your rejection was already expected by him, when it comes, it seems harder to digest than he had imagined. Knowing that this was what you wanted, Jared would respect it by putting aside his thoughts and feelings to please you, trying to balance his desire to be close to you with the need to give you space and time to process what was happening.

Over time Jared would learn not to idealize this in a destructive way, even though the bond makes him think that you are the person he is meant to be with, he also understands that nothing can be forced. And even if you weren’t ready to feel the same or directly didn’t want anything with him, Jared wouldn’t pressure you, but he wouldn’t stop being there, waiting patiently.

Seth Clearwater:

When he first saw you, the world seemed to stop. The connection was instant and overwhelming; the imprint completely transformed him. Of course, he had heard of his pack mates and often saw them with their mates, but this seemed to be something much more intense than Seth could have imagined. You become the center of his universe, not just as a potential mate, but as someone to protect and care for no matter the consequences. The intensity of the feeling overwhelms him, but also fills him with hope and happiness.

Being sweet and genuine, Seth would not force his presence in your life, but would instead seek to approach you in a natural way. Starting with a few casual one-liners about the day, following it up with a few topics that led him to ask for your name, as well as his presence and humor, would have him confidently asking you to see him again. The following days he would show his kinder and more generous side: helping you with small things, making you laugh and spending time by your side as someone unconditional.

Over time, Seth would notice that, although you appreciated him and enjoyed his company, you showed no signs of feeling something deeper. Perhaps he would have noticed it much earlier, but he wanted to lie to himself believing that it was just a matter of time. Although his advances continued to be noticeable, you seemed to no longer enjoy the more intimate approach, which led you to confess that your feelings were not the same as those he had for you. This would be devastating for Seth, since the imprint was not something he could control or diminish. Despite this, Seth would not allow himself to blame or pressure you, understanding that everything should be free and mutual.

He would begin to go through an internal process of sadness and acceptance; his innate kindness would keep him focused on what was best for you. Although it would be painful for him to observe how you did not feel the same, he would commit to staying in your life in the way you wanted. In private he would lean on the pack, who comforted him and gave him advice, especially Leah, who would understand his pain due to her own experiences, helping him deal with the emotional burden.

Seth would continue to be a part of your life if you wanted him to be, and if not, then he would accept it with great internal pain, but accepting of your wishes, watching over you from the shadows. He would never impose his feelings on you or expect you to reciprocate, seeking the best for you. And if you wanted to cut contact completely, then Seth would accept it without complaint no matter how much pain it caused him, putting your feelings before anything else.

Despite the pain, Seth would maintain his hopeful nature by looking for ways to adapt, learning to handle his unrequited feelings and channeling them into something positive. He would dedicate himself to protecting you from a distance or focusing on strengthening relationships with his family and pack. Over time he could learn to balance his imprint with his own need to move on, although the connection would never completely disappear.

Jacob Black:

He had always found the subject of imprinting strange and even aberrant; seeing how his companions seemed to abandon themselves so that someone else could practically take them as if they were their own to do with as they pleased was simply something Jacob didn't seem to or wanted to understand. Everything changed when he saw you; he now understood what everyone was talking about. He feels the powerful pull of imprinting, an unbreakable bond that reconfigures his world around you. His senses sharpen, his heart beats hard, and the need to be close to you becomes overwhelming. In that instant you become his absolute priority, overriding any other connection or concern.

Jacob would look for ways to approach you naturally, using his charisma and sense of humor as tools to gain your trust. He would try to become a close and constant friend in your life, willing to listen to you, support you, and protect you from any danger, even if you weren't aware of the extent of his commitment.

Over time, Jacob would probably manage to become an important figure in your life. He would accompany you in your everyday problems, offering you solutions or simply his presence. His actions, driven by imprinting, would be selfless and focused on your well-being. However, as the relationship progresses, he begins to notice that although you appreciate him and feel comfortable, you show no signs of developing feelings towards him. Although you try hard to give and surrender to him, you know that you cannot match his commitment; despite your constant attempts, you just don’t succeed.

Once you confess to Jacob and give him the clear rejection, he would experience an emotional storm. His pain would not come from the rejection itself, but from the inability to fulfill what he perceives as his purpose: to make you happy. It would make him rethink and ask himself if he is doing something wrong or if he is meant to live with those one-sided feelings. Even though he wants you to see him the same way, he wouldn’t try to pressure or manipulate you due to imprinting forcing him to prioritize your desires and well-being over his own. Even though you didn’t feel the same way, Jacob wouldn’t be able to emotionally detach himself. He would continue to care for you, making sure you were safe. He would try to find comfort in friendship, focusing on being a support in your life without expecting anything in return.

If you wished instead to have no relationship with him at all, wanting to cut off contact, even though he would feel deeply hurt, Jacob would respect your decision. Having to fight his own instincts to not constantly seek you out, even going so far as to feel great constant pain and guilt, would lead him to isolate himself from the pack and his friends, constantly morphing to release pent-up tension and emotions, feeling unable to explain his suffering or find comfort.

Even though others in the pack couldn’t fully understand the pain of an unrequited imprint, they would offer comfort and support; Even Sam would try to guide him to handle his feelings so that the bond wouldn't be so painful.

Jacob would learn to deal with frustration and pain, taking comfort in secretly caring for you if you didn't want him around, and if that wasn't it, then he would settle for being a good friend in your life. Despite the lack of reciprocity, the bond wouldn't fade. The imprint is eternal, and although the pain might soften with time, he would always feel a special connection to you.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

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levandright · 6 months ago

Note

i want to request a riki fluff drabble! soulmate au but it's the reincarnation type where they receive or dream memories of their past when they reach a certain age.

-⭐ anon

Eternal Bond

pairing : riki x fem reader ୨ৎ content / warning(s) : fluff, enemies/rivals to lovers, past lovers, soulmate au, riki calls you his sweet dove, highschool au ୨ৎ word count : 842 ・ archive

synopsis. in a world where everyone has soulmates and gets memories of their past lives when they turn seventeen, you’re completely shocked to find out that riki—your biggest rival since elementary school—was actually your soulmate in your past life. back then, you were his kind, devoted fiancée, a noblewoman engaged to a rebellious prince, and the two of you were totally in love. but in this life, all you and riki do is compete, pushing each other harder every year. ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : thank you for requesting this ⭐ anon <3 i had a lot of fun making this! hopefully you like it. my requests are very much open so feel free to send one <3

you had braced yourself for it since your birthday months ago, but nothing could have prepared you for the shock of remembering your past-life memories. the truth that your past self had been engaged to him, to riki, was something you could barely wrap your head around. he, the rebellious fourth prince, and you, the kind and loyal fiancée. it seemed unreal—especially since, in this life, riki was your biggest rival, the person you’d been trading snide remarks with since elementary school, and someone you were constantly trying to outdo.

but the memories didn’t lie. he was your soulmate. that fact settled into your mind, slowly softening the sharp edges of your rivalry with him. it was confusing, but no one else understood why you’d suddenly started holding back in arguments or why you’d bite your tongue when he’d tease you in class. it felt silly at times, but the warmth from your past-life connection began to weave into your present self, and no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t hide the change.

riki wasn’t an idiot. of course he'd noticed. you could feel his gaze on you more often, watching you closely whenever your paths crossed. there was a spark of suspicion behind his gaze, as if he was waiting for you to slip up. as much as you feared he’d figure it out, there was also a secret thrilling hope that he would. so when december 9th rolled around—his seventeenth birthday—you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d remember his past-life connection as quickly as you had.

the day came, and you tried your best to avoid him, slipping through the halls and sneaking into class a few minutes late. for the morning, it worked. but you knew that wouldn’t last.

lunchtime came, and you slipped aawy from class into the library, hoping to find a quiet spot where you could just be alone for a while. you settled into a corner near the back, buried in a book, trying to ignore the anxiety stirring inside you. but then you heard footsteps, and when you looked up, there he was. riki.

he stood by the table, arms crossed, a glint of determination in his eyes. you froze. “you can’t hide in here,” he said, his voice casual, but you could tell something was off. he wasn’t leaving.

riki walked toward you, and with each step, your heart raced. before you could react, he slid into the chair across from you, leaning in slightly.

“care to explain yourself?” he asked, his tone sharper than usual.

you blinked, feigning innocence. “explain what?”

he raised an eyebrow, his gaze intense. “you know exactly what i mean. we’re soulmates,” he whispered, low and filled with frustration. “and i find out now of all times? you could’ve told me earlier.”

your heart hammered as you nervously glanced around the library, thankful it was mostly empty. “i didn’t know how you’d react,” you said quietly, looking down at your hands.

riki let out a frustrated sigh, the tension rising. his eyes were no longer playful. “so you thought you’d just pretend nothing had changed? watch me get all confused about why you’ve been acting… different lately?” his voice dropped, and his gaze softened for just a moment. “what, you thought i wouldn’t notice?”

the silence between you both was thick, charged with so much unspoken emotion. you avoided his gaze, biting your lip. “i didn’t want to make things weird… especially with how we’ve been.”

for a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes studying you carefully. and then—bam!

he leaned in suddenly, placing a hand on your wrist, his touch sparking a reaction deep inside you. you jolted slightly, memories flooding back in waves, overwhelming you.

he tilted his head with a teasing grin. “you talk too much, you know that?”

before you could protest, riki closed the gap between you, his lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss, almost hesitant but filled with all the weight of your shared past. it was as though time had folded in on itself, and for a second it was like the two of you had never been apart.

when he pulled back, his smile was faint yet triumphant. “my sweet dove. you’re still as stubborn as ever huh?”

you stared at him wide-eyed, your heart racing. his words, that pet name—it felt so familiar, so right and yet so foreign in this life. “you… remember everything?”

riki nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips, though it was softer than usual. “every last bit.” he leaned back, crossing his arms. “now that we’ve got that sorted, what are we going to do about this little rivalry of ours?”

you blinked, a laugh comes out of you unexpectedly. “maybe we can take a break from it… just this once.”

he chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “i’ll consider it… for my dove.”

and for the first time in this life, you felt something stronger than rivalry, something that bridged the gap between your past and present—a feeling that maybe, just maybe, love could make its way through everything.

perm taglist. @honeybelleee @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone (open!) requests. open!

©levandright

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controld3vil · 1 month ago

Text

SO PROUD OF YOU

pairing: sinister invincible x villain!reader

synopsis: You had reasons for everything you did. Letting Mark was one of them.

notes -> the finale was crazyyy reader has invisibility powers and can create force fields cw: canon typical violence, exes to enemies trope, angst, post-break-up, foreshadowing (if you caught it)

The first realization that the world may never get better came when you witnessed the brutal fight between Mark and his father, Omni-Man. You had been a superhero for as long as you could remember, once standing side by side with Mark before he became Invincible. You knew him before he was the symbol of hope the world would come to depend on. He had always admired you, and you believed that you would make the world a better place with him by your side.

But that all changed when Invincible fought against Omni-Man in a violent and brutal battle that left cities in ruins and innocent lives lost in the crossfire. You watched as the father and son clashed, unable to reconcile their differences and the destruction that followed fell personal.

It wasn’t just that fight that shook you though – it was Mark’s unwillingness to take the hard, necessary steps to protect Earth from those who would harm it. You found yourself growing more and more frustrated with his hesitation, his refusal to do what was necessary. You had always believed in his potential to be the hero that the world needed, but after everything that happened, you started to wonder if that potential was holding him back.

It all came to a head one day when you confronted Mark after another failed attempt to stop a threat – Angstrom Levy. The villain had managed to escape yet again after Mark had spared his life in a moment of mercy. The destruction and chaos Levy had caused was like an endless cycle and Mark’s reluctance to finish it once and for all fueled your frustrations.

“Mark, why didn’t you just finish it? Angstrom Levy – he’s gone again, and you’ve given him the chance to hurt more people, maybe even your family. You had him! You had the chance to stop everything and you just let him!” You voiced, frustrated.

Mark shakes his head, trying to explain. “I couldn’t. He’s not like… I can’t just kill someone in cold blood, even if he’s a threat. I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

Your eyes narrowed down at him, a bitter tone escaping your mouth. “And what about all the people he’s hurt? What about the families he destroyed? What about all the lives he’s endangered? You don’t think your mercy is just another way of allowing people to get hurt?” These bitter and gnawing thoughts pile up from your subconscious as you step forward. “You can’t keep fighting with this idea that everyone can change. Some people don’t deserve a second chance.”

He looks at you and looks away hesitantly. “I... I don’t want to be like my dad.”

“Look around, Mark. The world is falling apart, and you’re trying to hold onto this.. this naive idea that mercy will fix everything. Wait until another intergalactic being invades Earth, and then what?” You scoff, with a bitter laugh, offended by his reasoning. “The only way for us to survive is to take matters into our own hands. And if killing those who deserved it to keep us safe, then it’s worth it.”

Mark’s eyes open wide, voice trembling in disbelief. “Wait.. what? No… no, why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true and you know it!” You raised your hands, frustrated. “You can’t save everyone, Mark. It’s not until Angstrom comes back with more little tricks up his sleeve and then? More lives will be gone, cities, towns, more people will die.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am. And the sooner you understand this, the sooner you’ll realize how all of your failures to finish the job cost lives.” Your eyes are hardening, voice is absolutely in every fiber of your body. Having known each other for a long time, you rarely argued with Mark. But this was one of the very few instances where it was needed. Mark’s world has been the same since he got his powers. He still couldn’t grasp the consequences of his actions. Every time he wanted to negotiate with a villain or talk it out was a waste of time.

“I thought you were better than this, Mark.” You stared at him in disbelief. “I can’t– We can’t do this anymore.”

“No– no.” He gripped both of your hands, terrified of the thought of you leaving – giving up on him. “You can’t just give up on us.”

“Why can’t I?” You snapped. “Mark… I don’t want to argue with you every time I see you. This isn’t healthy.”

“Oh really? Says the person who made a deal with The Order!” You thrashed your arms away from Mark, knowing he would bring it up sooner or later.

“At least they understand–”

“Oh, I understand.” You can feel his intense stare at the back of your head, hoping – pleading with you to turn around to see the truth. “You’d rather get involved with criminals than help me fight whatever alien or extraterrestrial creature that is trying to invade Earth!”

No words were spoken from either of you. It felt as though all of the frustrations the two of you built between one another had spilled out into the room. The tension lingers, and you hold onto it like a buoy to a ship in a stranded sea.

“This is never going to end, Mark.” You whispered, picking up his exhausted sigh from all the shit you’ve pulled. “What I’m doing with The Order has done more good than GDA in the last month. Face it, we’re never going to work.” When you finally turn to look at him, the first reaction you felt was sorrow. Because Mark looks distraught and almost willing to give everything up. He’s always had a strong heart but seeing him so broken and emotional, all because of you was enough to break your heart into a million pieces.

Both of your hands cupped his face, your thumbs tracing the fallen tears. “Let me go.”

“No–”

“I mean it, Mark.” You give him a weak smile, attempting to lighten the mood. “After everything we’ve been through, I can’t keep following you down this path of mercy you always talk about. Because the world just got a lot bigger and I can’t avoid losing you because you can’t fucking kill.”

Your name slips out as a desperate plea. “If– If I go down that path, I’ll just be like my dad… I can’t…”

“I’m not asking you to.” You hummed, with a smile never reaching your eyes. “All I want is for you to let me go.”

And he did and you fucking cried over it.

For a while, you went AWOL on Cecil and the GDA. You didn’t answer their calls and ignored every chance they visited your door. Cecil was mad – disappointed in your resignation because ultimately you were a great asset, he might even say you were one of the good ones. The ones that didn’t question his intentions and moved on with the job, because in your heart, you knew this was for the greater good. He’d guessed along the lines of catastrophe after catastrophe, you couldn’t handle the pressure.

Mark did you a favor by never giving any information about you. He prevailed with his promise and continued to fight bad guys and help the Guardians. But after your disappearance, he felt you left a hole in his heart.

Even if he couldn’t call you, news about Invincible followed you everywhere, even underground.

“So Invincible caught you.”

“Yeah, how many times do I have to tell you?” Your new acquaintance with Multi-Paul was still fresh and annoyingly frustrating to work with. Your boss, Titan, had close ties with Master Liu, Paul’s boss and crime lord. “He was an asshole.”

“Hey,” As you stood up from the chair, standing opposite of Paul. Titan told you specifically that Paul needed to be broken out, simply because Mister Liu insisted on it. He had more power over Titan and that made him paranoid about what he was able to do. So he consoled you, hoping you would be able to compromise with Paul to lay low for a bit longer before you decided to help him break out. “I just need you to postpone this a bit longer. Titan–”

“I don’t negotiate with Titan. I work for Mister Liu and when he says I’m out, I’m out.” The assassin scoffs, dangling his carbon seal handcuffed to prove his point. “I don’t work for you so whatever your boss told you to do, it won’t work on me.”

“Stop being an asshole for a second and listen.” You sneered, slamming your palm against the metallic table separating the distance between you two. “All Titan asks is to wait a few more days. That’s all, and then he and I will break you out. Mister Lie agreed to this.”

“I gotta hear it from him then,” He mockingly grins, as he senses how thin your temper is getting. But in the end, you knew he was messing with you. So as you prepare to leave, he says another thing. “And while you’re out there, give my thanks to Invincible. I’ll be waiting for my rematch.”

You rolled your eyes, not even taking a glance at the inmate before leaving the premises.

Titan called you on the premises when it happened. When the world went to shit and buildings started collapsing. You barely left your home, understanding what it all meant. You lived in the city and witnessed firsthand what kind of chaos these enemies were capable of. As you rushed past frightened citizens, you watched as a quick flash of yellow zoomed past another building.

“Don’t worry about me, kid. For now, just focus on helping the people move out of the city. The heroes can’t handle this all by themselves.” You gripped your phone against your ear, as you slowed your jog, looking back and forth where to go. Your mind was racing so fast like on a race track.

“What about you, boss?!” You urged.

“I got it under control. Look, watch your head, and contact the others. We need to make it out of this alive.” Titan reassures desperately and hangs up. You stare at the blank screen with frustration. The others? They’re probably dead by now, how are you supposed to contact anyone?

Seeing humanity crumble so easily made you feel a bit sentimental. It reminded you back to why you got into the superhero business in the first place. Initially, you believed your powers were a gift from grace. As fate chose you to help and save others when times were tough. To a point, your parents and the GDA supported that theory when you joined the task force at the ripe age of twelve. You didn’t know back then but you were setting yourself up for failure the moment you decided to become a superhero.

Because being a superhero was not always stars and rainbows. You became a prolific figure alongside the Guardians of the Globe and Teen Team. You were always under mentorship by one of the heroes, acting as a sidekick for the day. And eventually, when you got older, you outgrew the program and began to serve the GDA full-time.

There were small instances where the GDA offered you a civilian life, such as going to public school, allowing you to pursue your interests and take courses that would benefit your abilities. That was how you met Mark. But the fact was he knew you before you officially became a superhero. You both came from the same elementary school, passing mutual greetings ongoing to high school. At some point, you both hit it off and became something more.

Up until Mark got his powers.

Part of you wished you hadn’t met Mark at all to prevent this type of awkward tension. Because now you can’t even look him in the eye without remembering your last conversation and saying goodbye.

But you also have to remind yourself that breaking off with Mark was the reason for your fight for the greater good. You joined The Order and now under the mentorship of Titan, you saw what real cruelty was amongst the streets.

Even now, as you pushed off massive boulders for people to get through to the other side, you had hoped to find another one of your associates somewhere in the middle of this mess. Smog, smoke, and fire lingered everywhere no matter where you turned. You couldn’t see straight without brushing the particles aside with your hands. The hot smell of roasted corpses was unbearable but also a reminder that the perpetrator was nearby. You could sense something, flying past you any second.

In a quick splash of yellow, you thought you saw Mark. But you knew your mind was playing tricks on you. He didn’t wear the typical yellow, black, and blue suit anymore, not after his fight with Omni-Man. But the figure was zooming in fast velocity, you were sure it was him.

“You can’t just stay away from danger, can you?”

You didn’t want to believe it but even with dust flying everything – your bloodied combat outfit and exhaustion creeping up into your body, you wanted to believe it was your mind playing tricks on you. But it wasn’t that simple. There he was, Mark– Invincible hovering over you feet above the ground, arms crossed with a completely stoic expression.

His attire, with alternating colors of yellow and black, made him stand out like black lettering on white paper. He was intimidating, exuded dominance, and stared down at you like a piece of meat. You didn’t know how to feel about it.

“You’re not him.” You sneered, taking a few steps backward to relay the distance between you further.

“No, I’m not.” He lowers himself, only now barely touching the street floor. His goggles shield you from his real expression, what he’s really feeling. It makes you queasy, sick to your stomach to the anticipation of what he wanted from you. To him, you might just be another insect, ready to be squashed.

“What do you want?” You already knew he could feel your heart beating faster. Your heightened sense, your shaky hands – all of those symptoms made you feel like cattle to a butcher shop ready to be slaughtered. Was he going to play with his food?

“Never thought I’d see another you.” He clenched his fists together. “It’s a shame, you had to go out like that.”

“I don’t want to know,” you scoffed, without thinking you lowered yourself into a defensive position. “Look, whatever you and I had in your world doesn’t exist here. And right now you’re trespassing.”

“Trespassing? Is that what you call it?” This time, this Invincible cracks a smile, a reflection of cruel mockery. “Listen I thought about killing you all over again from the moment I stepped foot into this god-awful universe. But now?” You take a slow breath, slowly anticipating the worst. “Now, I’m kinda enjoying this version of you. Not naive or fragile, god you’re nothing alike.”

“I could say the same.” You glared at him, warning him of the next words he anticipates saying. “And unlike him, you’re actually willing to kill people.”

“Really?!” He sounds genuinely surprised, almost chuckling. “He sounds pathetic.”

At that, you can grind a little. “The Mark from this world couldn’t finish the job of killing Angstrom, and now look at it.” You glance at all of the burning bodies and buildings his doppelganger has made.

“And out of everyone, I didn’t expect you to be so happy about it.” There’s a smirk on his face, as his teasing is the only thing bringing you down. “You know, back in my world, you’d be the first to resist this kind of control. Always complaining about innocent lives and humanity–”

“Well, I’m nothing like her.” As if you were insulted by the fact he was even bringing that version of you. “Are you here to kill me or not?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t do that.” He could if he wanted to. But for some reason, this version of Mark was much more sinister. He had this kinda taunting tone about him. Even when destruction and chaos surrounded him, he didn’t care. He was looking at you like prey. All this time, you’ve been trying to stall and keep yourself alive. “Torturing you sounds so much better.”

“So what’re you waiting for?”

Then you disappear from the cool sensation of disappearing from the world around you. The air felt heavier, but you were hidden. You can hear him, his every movement amplified by your heightened senses. The sounds of his boots scraping against the cracked asphalt made you shiver, he hadn’t moved but was scanning the perimeter. You couldn’t have gone far, with your abilities, he knew you were trying to stall for time. You were like a ghost, slipping through the cracks and seams.

He lets out a cold chuckle, as if knowing exactly where you are, though even he couldn’t see you. “You really think you can hide from me?” His tone was colder, sharper.

Without hesitation, he shot forward, his body spiraling forward with immense speed and precision. The air itself shuddered around him as he tore through it, a blur of power and rage. You shifted to the side, avoiding the devastating punch that would’ve shattered you in an instant.

You almost tripped, momentarily visible, but before he could track your movements, you blurred out of sight again, leaving a singular trace of your presence. You were tense, terrified of his capabilities to kill you in an instant. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, and you were sure he could hear it from above.

This was the first step, staying out of his sight. You peeked at him slowly, feeling the air shift with every movement he took.

Suddenly, Mark stopped and turned his head, eyes narrowing. “I can feel you. You can’t be invisible forever.”

You slipped behind a crumbling pillar, fathering your focus. This time, you reappeared out of thin air. You summoned a force field, a shimmering wall of energy that surrounded you like an invisible shield. Your hand extended, and with a thought, you shaped it, making the force field extend outward as a curved barrier in front of you.

Mark flew toward you, his body moving at lightning speed. Before he could land a punch, you activate the force field, raising between the two of you two. His fist collided with the barrier with an ear-splitting crack, as the force of the impact sent shockwaves through the air. He staggered back, his surprise evident as he gritted his teeth.

“You think a wall will stop me?” he scoffed.

You smiled, only slightly. “It’s not just a wall.”

You expanded the force field outward with a burst of energy, sending it toward him like a tidal wave. This caught him off-guard, knocking him backward and sending him crashing into a pile of rubble. He groaned, trying to push himself up. His arrogance was still there, knowing you’d just ticked him off.

When he rose to his feet, you phased out of the visibility, disappearing again silently drifting through the air. You weren’t just hiding, you were waiting for the right moment.

His eyes scanned the area.

Before you could summon another force field, without warning, he shot his fist, punching through the air toward your previous position, hitting the ground with explosive force until there was nothing left in his path. Your invisibility faltered momentarily, revealing your position for a split second, just enough time for him to latch his eyes on you.

And then he slammed his fist into you before you could react, sending you tumbling backward into the broken street. The blast shook your balance, your head spinning, yet you managed to summon a small force field just in time to shield you away from the debris and fall.

“Had enough yet?” Sinister Invincible taunts, hovering above you. Even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew he was looking at you with distasteful disdain. “Or would you prefer I make it quick?”

Before you could answer, a sickly distortion ripped through the air, warping space and time around you. The world seemed to twist in on itself, as your senses exploded, running in every single direction like being caught in the middle of a violent storm. Everything spun, everything shifted.

In a blaze of neon green, the city was gone.

You felt the ground crack beneath you as you were swept away from your surroundings, pulled through space and time into an entirely different location. The world around you shifted, the landscape morphing and distorting like it was falling apart. You activate your force field instinctively, as you shield yourself from instant shifts. The change overwhelmed your senses, and your heart raced. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked around, disoriented.

There was nothing. The landscape was barren – cracked earth, shattered remnants of buildings, jarring metal from the ground like skeletons of a dead city. The sky was an eerie, sickly blue, the only thing you realized that was normal from this reality. There was no sign of life, only the depressive atmosphere. It was a world where hope had died long ago.

“What the hell just happened?”

#invincible #invincible s3 #invincible show #invincible x reader #invincible x you #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #invincible war #sinister invincible #sinister invincible x reader #sinister mark #invincible variants

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irisintheafterglow · 2 years ago

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[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.

"so you're both megumi's..."

"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.

"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.

you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.

"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"

"not for me, no."

"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."

"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.

"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"

"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.

"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.

"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.

"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."

"i think that'd be worse than satoru."

"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.

"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.

"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.

"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.

"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."

"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.

"your teacher says you're doing well in class."

"really?"

"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."

"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.

"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.

"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."

"trying to follow my example?"

"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."

"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.

"i'm one of a kind!"

"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen

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carvinglies · 5 months ago

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Soulmate tropes multifandom part one: Hunter x Hunter

part two || part three || part four ||

notes: I wanted to try my hand at writing soulmate au's so hopefully this is decent requests are open.

tw's:Talks of death in chrollos part, immortality in chrollos part, and angst in his part too.

Red string of fate you can tug: Kurapika

Kurapika’s soulmate frustrates him to no end, pulling their string at the worst moments with such force that he wonders how the hell they’re so strong. He could be sleeping and suddenly feel a tug from his pinky moving him to the other side. Kurapika understands he’s not heavy but there’s no way he’s that light! When he finally comes face to face with his soulmate giving them the equivalent of the stink eye.

Kurapika huffs before blurting out, “Why have you been manhandling me for no reason?” They have to stifle a laugh at his bluntness.

Immortal x mortal who keeps getting reincarnated but falls in love with immortal over and over: Chrollo

Chrollo’s soulmate constantly wallows in their own sadness, being immortal has no perks once you begin to live it. They hate having so many chances at life when they have to constantly wait for Chrollo again, watching him die months or days after a confession over and over makes them despise their never ending life Chrollo always dies after falling in mutual love with them making his soulmate swear to never fall in love with him again but always falling to the curse of the never ending cycle of reincarnation and death.

“I’ll always love you no matter how many life’s I live,” was always ringing in their ears in different voices but it was always him.

Really poor description on how you meet your soulmate is written on you: Feitan

Feitan’s face contorted into confusion when he first got the inky writing engraved into his skin, yeah sure he knew what soulmates were but the method whoever chooses soulmates picked out for him was annoying. I mean what kind of description of their meeting is, “bodies will hit it will be hot and sharp.” It threw him for a loop but eventually he decided to just give up on his soulmate. He didn't need romance, he's a thief for god's sake! But he was destined to meet you so when he bumped into someone holding scorching hot coffee that splattered onto him it hurt but it wasn’t bad for a nen user but just for the inconvenience he pulled out a switch knife holding it up to their wrist as a threat.

“Oh so this is what the text meant, how ironic,” the unknown person standing before him chuckled as he withdrew his weapon, coming to the same conclusion.

Someone can not experience true love until they meet their soulmate: Illumi

Illumi used to ask his mother about how he would meet his soulmate; she explained that methods are genetic and he would most likely be feeling no love until they meet the one. But he was quickly told to discard the idea of love and soulmates and encouraged to just marry the strongest person he would meet. Illumi drilled that fact into his head after some push from his parents he began to scout out potential candidates for marriage running into a florist worker their clay pot holding flowers were expected to smash into the floor but Illumi assumed that they were a nen user by the way they gripped their pot. Illumi walked off before hearing the same floral worker calling out to him holding a smaller bouquet, the plastic making a crunching noise as they moved to hold it out to the male's chest.

They grinned at him before hesitating, ultimately deciding to speak, “Here to apologize about running into you sir!” A weird fluttering feeling enveloped Illumi. He glanced at them studying their facial expressions and body language, thinking about them possibly cursing the flowers before giving them the pass, shrugging his shoulders and gingerly grabbing the flowers from them.

Countdown until you meet your soulmate: Uvogin

Never paid attention to the timer until Nobunaga pointed out that it was getting extremely low, in all honesty Uvogin kinda wanted to be in a romantic setting. He had his flings here and there but it wasn’t real love; he never pursued anything more due to his… job. So when he caught their eye during a stroll I mean who wouldn’t notice a 8 foot giant walking around! But then when he bumped into them literally I mean he actually slammed into them kinda, his soulmate was a little intimidated But Uvogin let out a hearty laugh like he always does.

They were the one profusely apologizing before he said, “Nah don’t worry about it I could never be mad at a cutie like you.” Before walking off did they notice the countdown on your wrist was at 00:00.

Speaking to your soulmate during dreams: Shizuku

Shizuku was indifferent towards the whole idea, but she also didn't get the hype people would get with soulmates watching people raving about meeting their soulmate while boasting was confusing. Well that was before she got her soulmate method, falling asleep after shifting in her bed for forever Shizuku dreamt of beautiful scenery with a person whose face was blurred out. Finally the two came to the realization, after a long while, that they can talk to each other and share intriguing conversations but whenever they try to say anything about their personal lives other than nicknames the pair would wake up suddenly like they experienced a nightmare. Shizuku, to her surprise, remembered every little detail about the person who appeared in her dreams, the blurry marks on their body and the way everything but their face looked, finding them interesting but not having enough time to deliberately look for her destined partner she became content with the small moments they shared. While out after a mission she craved a strawberry cake slice she opened the door to her favorite cafe strutting comfortably to the desk worker who greeted her with a smile and voice she was all too familiar with.

“Hello, what can I get you today?” Flashing their signature customer service smile they continued, “Take your time there's a whole lot of options.”

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milkb0nny · 4 months ago

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Touch Cannot Lie

Pairing: Ivar x blind!reader

Summary: You were born without sight, but it never hurt your confidence as much since you managed to navigate and live just fine. However, other people belittle and underestimate you, which builds frustration. Though, one day you would learn someone else was feeling the same way.

Note: So, I haven't been active for some time but I'm trying to get back into it. I've been a lot into vikings and supernatural again, which is why I'm feeling motivated. 💕🫶 With that, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Warnings: fluff and butterflies in your stomach

Word count: ~1200

You stepped through the snow, its cold crunch beneath your boots breaking the silence of the forest. The paths were familiar, stuck in your memory from countless adventures shared with your siblings. These woods were more than trees and trails - they were a place of cherished moments with your beloved brothers. Your siblings had always believed in your strength, your courage, even though you couldn’t see the world as they did. They saw you as you, not as blindness.

The gods had denied you sight, but in its place, they blessed you with keen senses and an ability to see the truth in others. You learned to navigate not just the world, but the depths of people, detecting their intentions with ease. Over the years, you encountered every kind of person: those who pitied you, those who patronized you with unwanted help, and those who pried with questions born of insensitivity. You rarely encountered interest in your person, only the challenges of being blind bothered others. Yet, amidst them all, one man stood apart; someone who saw you for who you truly were, treating you with respect and dignity.

As you made your way deeper into the woods, the stillness was broken by the sound of footsteps. There was something distinct about them, something you have heard before. A rhythm accompanied by a dragging noise, as if someone were pulling a heavy object. Though they weren’t heading back toward the town, but deeper into the forest, just like you did. Before you could wonder further, voices emerged, familiar and comforting.

“Y/N!” a voice called, clear and warm. It was Ubbe. A smile crept across your face, and your pace quickened toward the raspy voice.

“Ragnarssons, what brings you out on this winter’s day?” you asked softly, moving confidently toward the voices.

“Careful, don’t fall,” Hvitserk said, reaching out to guide your hand, but you declined with a slight shake of your head. You continued steadily until you reached Ubbe and Ivar.

Ubbe spoke, explaining that they were discussing family matters and strategies for their revenge against the Saxon kingdom. You listened intently, walking beside Ivar and matching his pace. Ivar‘s voice filled the breezy air as he turned his attention to you.

“What about you? It’s rare to see you alone, Y/N,” he asked gently, though his eyes - unseen to you - glued on your frosty hands which were slightly red already.

“My brothers are busy preparing for the next feast in the grand hall,” you explained with a light chuckle. “I needed a walk to clear my head. Sometimes calmness is the best companion. Though, I imagine you know a thing or two about that, with all those brothers.”

The Ragnarssons laughed, their light heartiness warming the icy air. You had grown up alongside them in a way; your paths had crossed many times in Kattegat especially the past years, forging a bond that was both familial and unique. The conversation shifted back to their plans, but soon another set of hurried steps approached.

“Ubbe! Bjorn needs us for an urgent discussion,” came Sigurd’s voice. “He hasn’t had much time for us lately, but this is important.”

Hvitserk hesitated, glancing toward you. “Then we’ll go,” he said, “but Ivar, can you stay with Y/N? Just to ensure she doesn’t lose her way back to the town.”

The words stung, though you masked it well. Once again, you were reminded of how others saw you. Not as the capable person you were, but as someone fragile and in need of protection. You knew the paths throughout, and you trusted your senses well enough to not lose track. Though you appreciated their care, it still hurt to be defined by your blindness.

“I’m sorry for being a burden,” you murmured, frustration slipping into your voice.

“That’s my brothers’ foolishness, not yours,” Ivar replied quickly, his tone firm yet kind. “Do you want to walk further? I don’t mind spending time with you. I would not find a place in their discussion anyway.” He was mad about the fact he had been left alone once again, but he didn’t mind that he had the opportunity to be with you alone.

You smiled at his sincerity, warmth spreading through you as he lingered by your side. He understood your struggles in a way few could. You liked that, the way he never asked if you were struggling because of your eyes.

Kneeling down to meet his gaze, you felt his presence. A warmth that contrasted with the chill of the snow. The scent of leather and iron lingered around him. “I wish I could see you, Ivar,” you said softly. “I imagine you look simply human, despite what others say about your legs. Maybe you look like a god. Or perhaps a beast. Or maybe something else entirely.”

Your words spilled out before you could stop them, and the blush rising to your cheeks portrayed your embarrassment. Ivar, however, found your flushed face endearing, a rare vulnerability you shared only with him. A moment which only the two of you shared, which he would take advantage of.

“I wonder the same,” he admitted with a small smile. “Would you like me to guide you? Not to help, but to let you see in your own way.”

Your hand hesitated before reaching out, and his cold fingers enveloped yours with surprising gentleness. He didn’t feel violent but you knew his temper well enough. Up to this point you rarely touched him, perhaps a few times as a kid. Though, this moment was something different - a side of Ivar you haven’t heard of yet.

He guided your hand to his face, resting it lightly against his cheek. His skin was cold, yet the moment felt electric. Your heart fluttered as your fingers traced the contours of his face - his strong jawline, the curve of his lips, the furrow of his brows, the shape of his nose. Ivar guided you, and you followed along with a racing heart.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to overstep.”

“I’m sure,” he replied, his grip firm but kind. “I’ve seen you do this with your brothers. It’s how you imagine what we look like, isn’t it?”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips. His understanding touched you deeply. As your hands roamed carefully over his features, you noticed yourself savoring the moment.

“So,” he asked, a teasing edge in his voice, “am I a god or a monster?”

“You’re neither,” you said with a quiet laugh, your hands cupping his face. “You’re just human. But a very unique one.”

His eyes softened, though you couldn’t see the admiration in them. In this moment, he felt truly seen, not for his weaknesses, but for his humanity. And for the first time in a long while, so did you.

#ivar the boneless x you #ivar x reader #vikings ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings x you #vikings #vikings x reader #ubbe ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson

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just-shairahhh · 3 months ago

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Wings and Venom

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw fem!reader.

Part: One of (Undecided Yet).

Part Two | Part Three |

Summary: When Theodore Nott, a brooding Slytherin bound by his family’s dark legacy, and a fiercely determined Ravenclaw collide as Potions partners, sparks fly. What begins as sharp-tongued rivalries and cold glares slowly unravels into a connection neither of them expected. As secrets, prejudices, and insecurities surface, they must decide whether to let their differences define them or risk everything for a bond that could rewrite their stories forever.

A/N: Hi, everyone! I really hope you enjoy this story. This series contains themes of emotional repression, societal pressures, and the consequences of prejudice. Both characters are grappling with identity and self-worth. If you have any special requests you'd like for me to include in the storyline, let me know. And, I'd love to hear your views on this part.

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

"If you’re so confident in your abilities, why don’t you take over completely?” Theodore snapped, his usual calm replaced with a simmering irritation.

For a second, you were taken aback. After all, you were just trying to help. But the surprise on your face was fleeting, replaced by a sharper undertone. “Maybe I should. We are, after all, being graded as partners. If you mess this up, it’s going to reflect on me.”

Theodore’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping a degree colder. “I’m not going to mess it up.”

“Really? Because your potion looks more like murky pond water than something worthy of Snape’s approval,” you retorted, your tone cutting.

Theodore’s temper flared. “You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, “some of us don’t have to rely on everyone else for everything. Some of us actually know what we’re doing.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. You've never had to rely on anyone for anything. You're one of the top students in your year, and you take immense pride in your hard-earned success. “What’s that supposed to mean? And what exactly would you know, then? Clearly, following instructions isn’t one of your strengths.”

Theodore’s voice dropped lower, his words coming out sharper than he intended. “You wouldn’t even know how to brew a proper potion if you weren’t holding someone else’s hand. Mudbloods like you don’t belong here.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the instant they left his mouth, Theodore immediately regretted them. His gaze snapped to your face, and he saw the flash of anger —something far sharper than he'd expected. You two had always clashed, sure, but it had never escalated like this. It had never felt this personal. Maybe it was the letter from his father that he got this morning, burning a hole in his pocket, feeding that simmering frustration inside him. But even then, there was no excuse for what he'd just said. He didn’t even believe in the Mudblood and Pureblood nonsense, despite his family’s obsession with bloodlines and their obsession with the old ways.

Your hands clenched on your cauldron, lips pulling into a tight line. “You really think that matters?” you chuckle, your voice cold and tight. There's no humour in them. “That your blood status is somehow better than mine?”

Theodore opened his mouth, to apologize, to explain that he hadn’t meant it—but you were already a step ahead. Sure, you and Theodore had clashed since the very first day you were paired for Potions, but this was different. This—this stung. You hadn’t realized just how deep the poison of old bloodlines ran within him. This idea, this poisonous belief, had nearly obliterated your existence from the very first year, before you could even fight for it. You’d fought tooth and nail to carve your place, to prove your worth—and no privileged, entitled prat was going to strip that away. Not now. Not ever.

“Must be nice to have your precious little pureblood status to fall back on, isn’t it?” Your voice cut through him like a dagger. “But maybe you should worry more about whether your daddy's name will protect you when people start asking questions you can’t answer.”

The insult hit him harder than he expected. His father. Theodore had lived in that shadow for years—had been consumed by it—and yet he couldn’t escape it. The weight of the name was suffocating. Every step he took felt like it was tied to his father’s reputation, pulling him further into the depths of expectations he never asked for.

And immediately his mind drifted back to the letter. That morning, a letter had arrived, sealed with his father’s unmistakable crest, a reminder of everything he could never escape. The letter sat heavy in his bag, unopened, as it always was, but its presence alone burned through him. A letter meant to remind him of his place, his bloodline, the legacy that was already set out for him. And now, here he was, echoing the same disdain he’d heard for years.

But this time, it was different. The words he had spat at you lingered, an unforgiving reminder of the man he was trying—and failing—to avoid becoming. What was he doing? Theodore’s mind raced, a blur of confusion and regret. Who did he want to be? The man he had been taught to become—driven by family, tradition, and bloodlines—or the man he feared becoming—the man who followed those ideals blindly, without question, without thought of the consequences?

The world felt like it was choking him again, and for a moment, all he could do was stand there, paralyzed by the sting of your words. The weight of it all pressed down on him—his father’s shadow, his family's expectations, and now, the sudden realization that he had pushed you away. The worst part was that with those words, he had seen the respect you once had for him—his intellect, his hard work, his quiet dedication—fade away. It was replaced by the same look everyone else gave him. The look of someone privileged, spoiled, entitled.

And he didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Why it cut deeper than anything else. But it did. It hurt in a way he couldn't explain, a way he didn’t know how to handle. Maybe it was because, for the first time, you saw him exactly as everyone else did. And that scared him more than anything.

But he wasn’t going to let you see how much it hurt. Without a word, Theodore turned and walked away, his footsteps loud and defiant. He didn’t look back.

That day, you entered your room, slamming the door behind you, the weight of the moment crashing down in a final, thunderous sound. Your bag hit the floor with a dull thud as you sank onto your bed, your thoughts spiraling back to your first year. Back when Draco would make cruel remarks about your non-magical roots, and every word felt like a dagger. It had taken you time—so much time—to accept who you were. The proud daughter of two hardworking, brilliant, loving parents who had raised you with love and strength. And you’d never let anyone—anyone—make you feel ashamed of that again.

Your intellect, your kindness, had always been the things that carried you forward, the things that earned you respect in places where golden blood could never flow. A respect that comes not from your lineage, but from your knowledge. And yet, Theodore’s dismissal of it today stung in a way you hadn’t expected. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why it hurt so much. It was as if he had shattered something delicate—something you had worked so hard to build.

“Hey,” a voice pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed the door crack open.

Elena, your best friend, stepped into the room with a sympathetic expression, her blonde curls bouncing slightly with each movement. “Bad day?” she asked, already dropping her bag by her desk and crashing next to you on your bed, like the two of you had done, for years.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you flopped back next to her, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know why I let him get to me,” you muttered. “It’s like everything I’ve worked for, all the things I’ve fought to stand by… he just dismissed them like they were nothing.”

Elena raised an eyebrow. She was mad at Nott herself for treating you the way he did in class. “Still thinking about Nott?" She asked, her lips pressed in a thin line.

You winced at the mention of his name. Theodore and you were never friends, but after being partnered up, it's like the last few weeks had been a rollercoaster of awkward glances, clipped conversations, and sudden, uncomfortable silences whenever the two of you were together. There had been moments when you thought things might’ve changed, but the tension was always there, just beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I don’t even know why it matters. He’s just one person. But he—he just has this way of making everything feel… wrong.”

“Well, I mean, that’s Theodore Nott for you,” Elena said with a mischievous grin, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced toward the door. “The broody, annoyingly good-looking Slytherin with a chip on his shoulder.”

You shot her a look, but Elena just shrugged, her expression turning playful. “What? He’s got that whole ‘mysterious bad boy’ thing going on. I’m just saying, it’s hard not to notice. And even harder not to fall for.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing tone in her voice made your cheeks warm. “You’ve got a weird taste in guys.”

Elena laughed, unfazed. “I’m not saying I’m interested. But let’s be real here, Theodore Nott is NOT a "weird taste in guys". He's like....” Elene finishes her sentence with a deep sigh, pretending to swoon over that one guy, most girls in your year had tried getting with.

You smiled, despite yourself. “Yeah, well, I used to think he was just some grumpy guy who didn’t care about anything. But there’s something different now. It’s like... he’s always watching. Waiting for me to mess up or something.”

Elena gave you a knowing look and straightens up. “It’s because he’s an absolute idiot, and you’re way too brilliant for him. He probably doesn’t know how to deal with someone who doesn’t fit into his little Slytherin world. But, if you ask me, I think he’s a bit jealous. You’ve got this whole ‘I-don’t-care-what-you-think’ vibe that he could never pull off, and it probably bugs him.”

You shot her a half-smile. “Yes, because it's so hard for Theodore to pull off that vibe. Please. His entire personality says "I don't give a shit" or "I'm too cool for school". Except he is smart as a whip."

"And that bothers you? I don't even know how the two of you got into this academic competition thing anyway." Elena asks with a huff.

You chuckled, shaking your head at the memory. “You know, it actually started in first year. I remember it so clearly.”

Elena raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes fondly. “We were in the library—no surprise there—and I was working on a potion assignment. I had it all figured out, but then I heard this voice. ‘You’re not supposed to add the powdered moonstone before the powdered dragon liver.’ And I looked up to see Theodore, sitting across from me, looking at me with a straight face. Except, his face was flushed. I'm guessing from all that ego boost he was getting from this." You scoffed again.

Elena leaned forward, grinning. “Let me guess, you argued?”

“Of course I did,” you said with a smile. “But then I double-checked, and he was right. He’s insufferable about it.”

"And that was the start." Elena finsihes.

"Yeah" You continue. "Potions and weirdly, Charms was always his thing. DADA and Care of Magical Creatures was mine."

"And both of you are collectively bad at Divination" Elena supplies.

"Hey! We just don't believe in the concept." You defend.

"Riiiight" she drawls playfully.

Elena and you spend the night gossiping about your previous school years. You were so grateful for her. She always had her way of making you feel better about things and distracting you from what hurts you, when you need it.

The next morning, Theodore enters the Potions classroom and immediately notices that you’re not sitting at your usual desk beside him. Just then he heard a melodious laughter, from the back of the room. His eyes snapped to it immediately, as if his body had its own reaction to that laughter he had now gotten used to and somewhere, started to love. And there you are, sitting with another Ravenclaw, whatever-his-name-was, who was whispering something that made you laugh. You’re laughing—something that, only yesterday, he could have made happen with just a quiet remark, a sarcastic comment. The sight twists something inside him, a pang sharper than he expected.

He freezes for a moment, caught off guard by the unfamiliar weight in his chest. Why did it bother him so much? It wasn’t like you were friends. If anything, the two of you had always been at odds, sniping at each other over Potions techniques or study strategies. You were supposed to be rivals—partners by necessity, not choice. So why did seeing you so deliberately avoid him feel like… loss?

He’d spent most of the night replaying his words, hating himself for how easily they’d slipped out. A part of him had thought he’d come in today and—well, not apologize, exactly, but something. Fix it, maybe. Yet now, watching you sit so far away, the distance between you felt bigger than just a few feet. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why that mattered so damn much. So, in that moment, he did the only thing he could—he kept stealing glances at you. There wasn’t a single trace of yesterday’s storm etched onto your face. It was as if it had never happened. And yet, the ease with which you seemed to have erased it from your mind gnawed at him. He didn't want you to hold onto whatever he had let slip in a moment of weakness, he had spent most of last night trying to erase the memory of your hurt expressions. The fleeting vulnerability that passed through your face in that moment, stabbed at his heart more times than he could have counted. Yet, he didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—why this indifference bothered him so much.

What he doesn’t realize is that you’ve been watching him, too. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him hesitate, his posture tense, his movements less precise than usual. His uniform is rumpled, his tie hanging loose and slightly crooked, a stark contrast to his usual meticulous appearance. His dark circles are more pronounced today, as though he didn’t sleep at all last night, and his hair, usually tousled in a way that feels deliberate, looks like he’s run his hands through it one too many times.

Your frown deepens as you catch the way his jaw clenches and unclenches—a habit you’ve noticed he falls into when he’s agitated. He looks… off. Tired. Worn down.

You try to shake the worry off. He doesn’t deserve your concern, not after yesterday. Still, it’s there, lingering at the back of your mind like a whisper you can’t ignore. You tell yourself you’re just being observant—it’s what you do, after all. But deep down, a part of you wonders why he looks like the weight of the world is pressing on his shoulders. And why you care at all.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you turn towards Nathan and try to focus again on whatever he was saying, his voice a low hum against the storm of thoughts in your head. You nod absently, trying to piece together a response, but the weight of the tension in the room—of him—is impossible to ignore.

Nathan says something that might have been a joke, and you force yourself to muster up a smile, hoping it looks convincing. You don’t want him to notice your mind is elsewhere, but it is. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts keep drifting back to Theodore: his rumpled uniform, the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders seemed to sag just a little more today.

You shift in your seat, gripping your quill tighter than necessary, willing yourself to stay present. Whatever this is—this inexplicable worry that keeps pulling at you—it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But no matter how hard you try to push it away, the image of him, sitting there in silence, keeps creeping back into your mind.

The bell rings, pulling you out of your thoughts, to signal the end of the lesson, and Theodore watches as you gather your things quickly, almost too quickly, like you're trying to avoid anything that might make your paths cross. You don’t even glance in his direction. It’s like he’s invisible, like all the moments, the words, the discussions you’ve shared have been wiped away in an instant.

But as you reach the door, something unexpected happens. You pause, just for a fraction of a second, your hand gripping the frame as though you’re hesitating. Theodore catches the movement, his heart leaping despite himself. He doesn’t know what he’s hoping for—an accusation, an apology, a glance, anything—but then you step out without looking back, leaving him sitting there, alone with his thoughts.

He stares at the empty doorway, jaw tightening as the silence in the classroom swallows him whole. And then, as if on instinct, his fingers brush against the letter in his pocket—the one from his father, the one he hasn’t stopped thinking about since yesterday. His gaze flicks to the spot where you’d been sitting.

“Tomorrow,” he mutters under his breath, so low even he barely hears it. “I’ll fix this tomorrow.”

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