#like she knew the difference she just said the wrong thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misguidedasgardian · 20 hours ago

Text

AMOR VINCIT OMNIA II.

II. Floating Jasmines

Summary: He did want to marry you, did he not?

Warnings: Use of she/her pronouns, reader has hair, Ancient Rome accuracies and inaccuracies, animal slaughter for ritualistic purposes, arranged marriages, age difference (Marcus is late forties reader is 20), cursing, reader gets waxed and takes a milk bath, use of historic characters that don’t belong on this timeline, mentions of consumations, one sided fluff and ANGST a bit in the end, MIGHT MISS SOME WARNINGS

Due to topics discussed and future warnings…

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: I feel like the first chapter was a bit rushed, but I hope that I can find a “pace” I’m comfortable with! I hope you like it! I feel like this chapter is very descriptive, but I wanted to set a tone… hope I did justice to all those rituals and all! I didn't check this so sorry for any mistakes, I was so exited!

This fic was inspired by the coolest @stylesispunk's "Soldier in the armour"

You caressed your mare’s coat with delicacy, Marcus has gifted her to you tamed already, so you rode her constantly. He had said it came from his own stables up North where he had a villa.

One of the few things he had said to you.

You did not understand, he was supposed to want to marry you, then why after the betrothal he never even spoke to you again?

He found you with Lucius in the garden, but it haden’t mean anything, you were steps apart, it was nothing, just a few parting words to the one you had wanted to marry.

He led you back to the celebration that night, and he had remained at your side until he left you and your mother in your villa, and then he retired for his.

You never saw him again

It’s been three months.

Your mother had explained that he left to take care of some things, you knew that winter was coming and as General and as owner of villas and country he needed to care for his estates, especially since he was to be wed.

But the temperatures were lowering and your doubts were ever higher.

Was he angry at you? That he found you alone with a man? Was he doubting his decision?

Have you done something wrong?

“Amica mea”, called your mother, you turned, letting a soldier take your horse back to the stables. “Did you have a pleasant ride?”, wasn't a long one, as you had not much space to go, especially alone…

“It was mother”, you said softly, you both entered back to the villa

You removed the shawl you had placed around you, it was getting cold, you had to put on wool socks now, and closed shoes, and a thicker tunic under your stola.

You were entering winter, it had been three months since your betrothal.

Every day you grow more anxious.

Your mother assured you that everything was alright, and you still kept your ring in your finger

“Actually, Marcus has returned to Rome”, she said softly, “he is to remain here until after you are married, and until the Emperors decide on who they are going to appoint as consuls”, she said softly, your wedding, as the appointment of the consuls were to happen in the first weeks into Ianuarii

You didn’t know where he went, you knew he wasn’t on campaign, so he must have been in his villa in the country, but it didn’t matter to you.

“Mother, did I do something wrong?”, you asked her for the tenth time, “for him not wanting to see me?”, you asked her then

“Darling I swear you did nothing wrong”, she assured you, “he had business to take care of”, you were not convinced, not really, and she could sense that, “there’s more, he is coming at sundown, he just arrived back to Rome and he wanted to see you”, she said excitedly

“Really?”, you asked her, hope returning to your features

“Yes, my dear”, she said, smiling softly. “so go get ready”, with a smile, you did as she requested, putting on your most beautiful stola. Your mood had lifted completely at the news.

At the prospect of him wanting to see you, made your stomach filled with butterflies, and you found yourself excited.

If Marcus was the man you had to marry, you were going to make the best of it, you were determined to be a good wife to him, and make him proud, and do your marital duties.

And soon he was there, entering your home with a soft smile on his lips, and those kind eyes you discovered you liked so much.

From the first time he had come to your home to now, there was a whole sea of difference. He seemed relaxed, his eyes were shiny and his smile sincere, or at least, it looked like it.

He brought you an amphora filled with delicious wine.

Your mother, after eating with you in the triclinium, excused herself and left you both alone with a knowing smirk on her lips

You were incredibly nervous, but… his gentle demeanor helped you ease a bit

“I wanted you to know”, he started, “that I left to settle some business in my states, it was the harvest and I wanted to oversee it”, he explained softly

“Is your state… big?”, you didn't know how to follow up to what he had told you, he only chuckled

“Not much, but we have many apple trees, and pears, some olives”, you smiled at that, “is a villa in the edge of a lake, it is quite beautiful”

“Sounds incredible”, you said with an excited smile

“I wanted a place to have solace after my campaigns”, he explained

“Are they going to send you out there again… after we are married?”, you asked him

“I should think so, yes”, he murmured with a soft smile, “there are always revolts and uprisings, we need to oversee our territories, care for our subjects”

“I know they are important, though… I hope they feel brief”, you said with an apologetic smile, he looked at your face and smiled kindly at you, making your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

You had to admit the subject really interested you, about geography, and culture. Well, also battles as well, the strategies, the ones already fought and how they happened, and you were marrying a General, that is what most excited you, you were going to be able to ask him about his campaigns and about the battles he had fought, you felt so emboldened, you went ahead and ask him…

“I wanted to ask you, who was the most difficult enemy you ever faced on the battlefield?”, you asked him, he took a sip of his cup of wine and left it on the table in the middle of the Triclinium

“I do not wish to bore you with tales of wars, my lady”, he said softly, and your smile dropped. You should tell him that you wouldn’t be bored, but you didn’t press on it. “How do you find your new mount?”, he asked after an uncomfortable silence, the previous soft atmosphere now destroyed

“Luna is so calm, and sweet”, you said then, “thank you”

“You named her Luna?”, he asked

“She is silvery as the moon”, you explained gently.

“It’s a beautiful name”, he assured you, “and I’m glad, I made sure she had a good temperament, I would never put you at risk, my lady”, he assured you. And that made your heart beat fast in your chest, and your cheeks heat up

“Thank you”, you say shyly, he smiled at you then. But as he seemed to truly gaze at you, he got serious all of a sudden.

“This might be what you asked the Gods for”, he started, and you felt your cheeks heated, was it really that obvious? although you were trying your best to not show it, “but I promise to keep you safe, and to care for you”

“And I promise to be a dutiful wife”, you said, over excitedly, you must have looked so childish. His face turned serious, and you could swear you saw a glint of sadness in his eyes, but it was probably your imagination.

He might be rough around the edges a bit, but he was joust, and generous, and caring. You beamed at him again, and for the first time since this whole thing started, you found yourself wanting to marry him.

Your mother didn't show up again, and Marcus left shortly after, and when he was in the threshold, in the Atrium, he grabbed both your hands, leaned in, and kissed you on the edge of your mouth.

You saw you could see stars even if you were inside, and he left you with tingles all over your body and promises that soon you were going to get married, with no setbacks

The day of your marriage ceremony, it was so cold, you only managed to get out of bed because you knew that today you were getting married to Marcus.

You knew what you had to do, you had been taught all the rituals, all the processions.

As your eyes trailed around your room, that was kissed by the first rays of the morning sun. You started to see small remnants of your life, today, you were going to marry a man and leave your home, to go and live with him.

Today, you were going to leave your girlhood behind.

You raised from your bed and grabbed a little doll that was on a wooden shelf in the corner. You were old enough to have gotten rid of it quite a few years back, but you didn’t have the heart to. It was a little dolly made with articulated wooden limbs and dressed in a tunic.

You smiled at it, and put it inside a beautifully carved wooden chest, as you did the rest of your personal artifacts that you were not going to take into your new married life.

“To Venus”, you whispered.

Once you were done, you turned around and found your mother looking at you from the door, with a sad smile on her face.

“My only daughter”, she whispered, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “You are leaving too”, she said, you smiled at her and hugged her tightly. She caressed your hair and kissed the side of your face, “but this is for your safety”

You found that odd, but it was such a heartfelt moment, you didn’t think more about that.

“But this is a happy day”, she said, releasing you and smiling through her tears.

“Yes it is”, you said happily

“Ah!”, you screamed, “Fatue!”

“I’m sorry Domina”, the maid said apologetically. You knew the sweet maid wasn’t at fault, but… it hurt nonetheless, “just a little more”, she said with a weird smile, as she raised your arm to access the tiny hairs in your armpits.

“It hurts”, you whined childishly

“I know”, she placed the warm thick substance, she waited a few minutes, and then she pulled, making you whine. It all had to go…

For your wedding night.

“We prepared a milk bath”, she said as if that was going to be of any comfort, “to soothe your skin”, you looked at her, frowning, she tended to…

“Au!” ...take you by surprise.

Once the torture was done, you were led to the indoor bath. As she had said, it was filled with goat milk, and soft and aromatic essences. Your maids fixed your hair up, so it wouldn’t get dipped in the liquid, and then abandoned you, you undressed, dropped your thin tunic into the floor, and slipped in the beautifully tiled space, she was right, it was soothing on your skin.

MIlk baths were not strange, but rather, a delicacy, only being done in the most special of circumstances, like your wedding day, for example.

You enjoyed the peace and quiet of the secluded place, as you faintly heard all the servants and maids walking all around, surely preparing for sundown, the ceremony was going to take place in your home, as it was customary.

In the midst of all the flowers floating in the milk bath, you found a beautiful jasmine, your favorite, you grabbed it, making more ripples in the quiet you had created, you took it to your nose, letting the sweet smell soothe you.

You didn't know where it came from, as it was winter, so you took it as a sign from Juno herself, the goddess of marriage, then, you rubbed it against your neck, you really hoped its sweet smell would cling into your skin for today.

You smiled, you felt dreamy, thinking about what exciting things are to come.

Time seemed to fly by you, your mind blinded by a soft mist, and before you knew it, your hair was being fixed in six braids, you were looking at yourself in the mirror, a large polished piece of copper. You had been dressed in the softest fabric you had ever felt, thin, sheer too, you could see your most intimate bits, but it wasn't less beautiful, delicate, soft and sewed with gold, and then, they placed a beautiful white tunic above it. All white and sewed with golden as well, it fell loosely to your feet, but it clinged to the just right places in your body.

Your mother came into your rooms then, and they finished fixing your hair, she brought what looked like a golden rope in her hands.

But you knew what it was.

You believed it was pride you saw in her eyes, as they passed the golden rope around your waist, and then tied it in the traditional way.

“I’m so proud of you”, she said with a wide smile

“I love you mother”, you said happily, she leaned in and kissed your cheek, and then she hugged you tightly

“You are going to be happy with him, I know you will”, she murmured

“I really think I can”, you said with a wide smile

And when you were all ready, with the crimson red veil placed upon your head, you were left alone in your rooms, waiting for the right moment for your entrance.

You were supposed to be escorted by your handmaidens, but just now you realized that the only friend you had was Cecilia, and right now she was in Sicily with her husband…. so you found yourself alone.

“Do you need anything, domina?”, asked Alba, the lovely maid who had been by your side all day, and for years back

“I’m a bit nervous”, she smiled, she nodded, and brought back a trail with what recognized was a small amphora

“A bit of mulsum”, she said, “that will comfort you”, she said with a soft smile

She was right, the wine did help you relax your nerves, especially when you heard people arriving at your home. Finally everything fell on you, the reality. You were going to marry a man, this very night you were going to leave your home to never return, and you were going to live in a foreign place, you had never been to Marcus’ home, you didn't know where you going to end up this very night, you did know though, you had to consummate the marriage.

You knew what was going to happen, you were a Roman woman, you were raised in knowledge of pleasure, war, wisdom, passion, love, and many others. Tales of Conquerors driven by mythical love and a passion that conquered empires and transcended thousands of years…

Would that kind be the kind of love you’ll have with Marcus?

You had barely a cup of wine with honey, it managed to soothe you to a certain point… but you couldn’t have more or it was going to cloud the rest of your senses, so you started fidgeting with your fingers.

You started to feel uncomfortable, your scalp began to itch under the veil and your tight braids, the cold winter air began blowing through the window, but your hands were sweating and your breathing was becoming rasher.

You went to the window to have some fresh air, but you found that the garden was, well, not blooming, again, it was the middle of the winter. But as the sun was hiding in the horizon, the air got colder by the second. So you took long breaths and then you came back to sit on the bed.

You didn’t even got to before the door opened, and Alba came back

“It’s time”, she said with an excited smile

You wanted to throw up as you were so nervous. She came and grabbed your hand, and led you out of your rooms. The ceremony had been prepared in the main atrium of your house, the most propitious space for that gathering of people.

They were all there, they had lit fires all over the space, and everything looked so magical and mythical, even though that was the same atrium you saw everyday

Your mother received you at the threshold and led you towards the small altar they had set for the occasion. You were so nervous your legs were shaking, but they still held you upright.

Marcus was standing in front of a woman you could only guess was the matron of honor, right behind the altar

The ceremony was led by a woman you didn't recognize, but the Protuba, the matron of honor, was supposed to be a woman who had been married once, and still was living with her husband, so it couldn’t be your mother as she was a widow.

You looked around and found mostly men present in the ceremony, but that wasn’t odd either, there was supposed to be at least ten of them, then you looked at Marcus. He was looking at your mother, you couldn’t quite identify the feeling behind those eyes… it seemed like he was asking for some sort of permission, your mother met his eyes with decision, you looked back at Marcus and he seemed to nod.

And then he turned to you, his eyes fixed.

“You stand as Venus in front of me”, he said softly, your cheeks heated

“That would make you Mars then”, you murmured. He smirked

“Let’s begin”, said the woman loudly, it all got so quiet, you could hear a single straw fall into the marble floor. You took a long breath. She presented a long scroll, the contract to your marriage, the details of which you did not know, it had been made between them both with your mother.

“We are here free, of your own wills, to join in matrimony”, you both nodded, he was first, to sign the paper, you followed, scribbling your name shakily. Once that was done, you stood right in front of the other again.

You both looked at the matron, she then looked at you and nodded, so you turned back to Marcus and smiled at him, taking a long breath.

“Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia”, you said shakily, now you understood your friend, the way of the words constricting your throat

“Ubi tu Gaia, ego Gaius”, he said firmly, with a strength and conviction you envied.

“Now, the concordia”, it wasn’t without cause that the wedding ceremony was often called ‘the joining of hands’, you tried to wipe the sweetness of your hand in your dress but didn’t get to as the Matron grabbed it rather roughly, and Marcus’, and joined them together, his hand was so big, rough though, but warm, so warm, as you yours, you held your breath as his warmth in this winter night made you warm too.

“With the concordia, you are agreeing that a mutual affection made by the Gods themselves has bonded you”, she said, “Where she is woman, you are man, this is the will of the gods”, then came your least favorite part, the sacrifice to Juno.

They brought forth a big piglet, and you looked away as someone slaughtered it, its cries ringing in your ears. You were brought back to the present when you felt a caress in the back of your hand, you realized it was Marcus’ thumb, caressing it, as he saw your distress.

You smiled at him widely

You took the time to gaze upon your now husband, he looked so handsome, dressed in perfect white, golden laurels sewed into the fabric, his beautiful dark locks combed backwards, and a pleased smile on his face, he looked like he just received laurels back from his campaign. You even saw little wrinkles that were born in the outer edges of his eyes, but that made him look even more handsome if that was even possible, and that nose…

He turned towards you and found you gawking, he leaned in and kissed your cheek, you believed you were going to faint.

When he placed his big warm hand on your lower back to meet your guests, -which you completely forgot they existed-, you believed you could swoon, his touch comforting and soothing, he then turned to you and smiled. He seemed to search for something in your eyes, and you hoped you could see the devotion within them.

You married one of the most important generals of Rome, a handsome man and you truly thought you’d be the happiest woman alive.

The feast began right after, and you realised your mother had gone all out, dancers in the pools of the two atriums, more servants than guests walked around offering food and wine. Cheerful music was playing, and all the guests had dispersed and were talking in loud conversations. You believed you could put together an older empire than Rome if you summed their ages together.

You had no people of your own, as Lucius and his friends were not here. His father was, and you guessed he didn’t want to see you get married to Marcus. His friends were here though, all men dedicated to war, pretors, some other generals. Some of their wives were about your age, but you didn’t recognize them.

Some even giggled in corners after looking thoroughly at you.

You tried to eat, but your stomach was in knots. You tried to drink, and you managed, water though, not wine, you didn't want to. As Marcus chatted with his fellow man of arms, you as much as clung to your mother’s skirt as she indeed was talking with the wives of men of the Senate.

Sooner rather than later, a comitive came from what was once your rooms, carrying coffers filled with your belongings, one of them held, you guessed the golden one, carrying what you guessed was your dowry.

Now you truly clung to your mother, as the time to leave your home for your husband’s had come.

“Don’t be sad my beautiful girl”, she whispered against the top of your head, “you’ll be just fine, and this will always be your home”

“I’m scared mother”, you whispered.

“You will be alright”, she said, “I promise you”, you nodded, surprised to realise you were crying.

Marcus came to your side, grabbing your hand softly, releasing you from your mother’s arms. He had to struggle, you weren’t embarrassed to admit, but you released her and clung into his arm instead.

You left your home, your villa, and you both led the procession to Marcus’ villa, that you didn’t even know where it was.

This could be a long walk or a short one, you didn’t quite know.

It was already pitch black, being late and winter, but the torches taken by the people who were following you lit the night.

It was cold, and your clothing was thin, but you held onto the arm of Marcus. He stood deadly silent, and you couldn’t find the words either.

When you finally arrived at the gates of Marcus’ villa, your feet ached, it was in the very center of Rome, near the curia, it was… big. Your mother had not come, but a group of people you had known your entire life was there, looking expectantly at the both of you.

You gasped as you felt Marcus’ thick arms raise you from the ground, taking you in his arms.

He left all of them behind with no words spoken and he entered his home with you in his arms, you heard the cheers and lude remarks, and then the gates closed behind you, as you grabbed onto Marcus’ neck. His body was warm against you, cold from the walk.

He released you at the atrium.

He directed you towards a table where two copper bains stood, and you know what follows.

Marcus used two small stones that sparked a fire that burned a few twigs and moss. The Other basin had water in it. So Marcus was indeed a traditional man, a religious man even.

“Touch the water first”, he whispered in your ear, making you tingle, “so you won’t burn”, he suggested, you smiled nervously, and slipped your hand inside the copper basin, then as it was wet, you placed it above the fire. When you felt the sting, you removed it. The small rite was supposed to purify you and your new home, your new family home.

You then realised you were very much alone with him, for the second time, and now… he was your husband.

The air was thick with expectancy, and your nervousness.

But he had been so gentle… that gentleness was going to translate into your intimacy as a marriage, right?.

“Well, this is my home”, he said. You looked around and you found it comfortable, and… quite new, if there was such a thing in Rome.

Your home was ancient, as the Palatine hill, some say it was made by Romulus and Remus themselves after they founded Rome.

But Marcus’ was perfect, the pillars white and straight, the tiles unscathed by the passing of time, the pools were clean and with fresh water. Not like the ones at your villa which even had water lilies in them, and your pillars looked more like stone than marble, with wallflowers clinging to them. These walls lacked the paintings that decorated yours.

If you and Marcus weren’t there, there was no other trace of life.

But it was beautiful nonetheless, and this was your house now too.

“As my wife”, he started, “you can do as you please with this home”, he said, the warmth that decorated his features at the ceremony now were lacking, now he seemed like he was sad.

“Thank you Marcus, you are so kind”, you offered with a soft smile

“This way”, he said, with a thick arm pointed at a hallway.

This was it, the root of all nervousness, you were going to consummate the marriage, you were going to… take him…

You arrived in his rooms, he entered in front of you, and you played with your fingers nervously. You prayed to Juno a week before, for him to be gentle and kind with you, to hold you with passion and devotion alike. That she blesses you with children. And the thought alone was enough to make you less nervous.

Maybe this was the day you were going to start your family.

But he didn’t move.

He rubbed his face with his hands, as he was exasperated, his back was to you, and he stood still, unmoving, hiding himself from you.

Did you have to do something?

He finally seemed to come to his senses, as he revealed his face and turned, but still not to you. You looked at yourself, begging the gods for wisdom in this… strange time… you then remembered the golden belt around your waist.

And it finally dawned on you, maybe he needed a little push

“The husband is supposed to take this off…”, you trailed, playing with the fabric nervously. It was braided beautifully, it was customary to be made of wool, but you, being Lucilla's daughter, and granddaughter to an emperor, they had woven it out of golden silk just for you.

It was the most beautiful knot of Hercules you had seen, and you were wearing it today on your wedding day, where your husband was supposed to untie it, before he claimed you in the marital bed for the first time.

“I won’t”, he said simply, looking over his shoulder, to finally turn on his feet to look at you. His right hand grabbed his left wrist in front of him, as he stood still and solemn, and he was standing in front of his superior, or the emperor's themselves, “I will not touch you”, you didn’t seem to understand as you stood there, frozen in front of him

“But you are my husband”, you offered weakly. Of all the scenarios you played in your mind, you never thought this was the way it was going to go. You’d think he was going to be too eager, maybe too rough, too impatient, but never this… unless… “have I done something wrong?”, you asked, your voice broke at the very last word, and it was worse as he seemed to look at you with pity, “did I do something to displease you?”, you asked shakily

“You did nothing wrong”, he said, so simply, but his voice sounded too serious, too cold

“But…”

“It was a long day, we both could use some rest”, he said, his eyes soft at this, as he was begging you. He came to you, cradled your face in his big hands and kissed your forehead, and then he left you alone in the room.

Your heart shattered inside your chest as you sat on the edge of the bed, you grabbed into the fabric tightly. You were seized by an awful feeling that you didn’t even recognize at first, your chest ached, as bitter tears down your cheeks.

“But I did everything right”, you whispered

MASTERLIST

PCN: So the angst begins MUAHAHA

I thought the word "domina" was said by slaves to their "owners" but apparently not... it means "Lady or Mistress" use to call ladies of "status" so yeahhhh

Taglist: @orcasoul @peelieblue @raynetargaryan2 @thereallchristine @sesdeuxyeux

#misguidedamor #marcus acacius fanfiction #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #ancient rome au #gladiator fanfiction #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #Lucilla

57 notes · View notes

tommiib · 2 days ago

Text

The Mistake We Keep Making ~ P.SH

warnings: angst, suggestive, depressed reader, infidelity, cheating, self hatred, toxic hwa.

wc: 1.5k

Just a little drabble.. I hope you enjoy!

How did you end up here? Naked. Vulnerable. Sticky.

It’s a tale you’re all too familiar with, a story that should have ended long ago—one that should have never begun. You know it’s wrong, but you can’t help it. Not when he smiles at you like you’ve made his day, not when he brings you lunch during your grueling study sessions, not when he’s between your legs, devouring you like you’re his last meal, whispering how beautiful you are, how sweet you taste, how good you feel. Not when he looks up at you with hooded eyes, bottom lip quivering as he spills into you. Not when you collapse into each other, bodies tangled, drowning in a high you were never meant to share.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be with him.

You both knew it.

--------

“Y/N.”

Your name pulls you back, snapping you out of your daze. You’ve been zoning out more lately—a side effect of exhaustion, of self-inflicted chaos. The weight of your last year in university, the pressures of grad school applications, a demanding internship, moving out of your old apartment before the lease expires. You’re barely holding it together, and maybe that’s why you keep making the same mistakes. Why you keep letting him in.

“Huh—oh, yes?” you blink, refocusing on Lara, her golden nose ring glinting under the soft apartment lighting. Gorgeous as ever, her warm brown skin flawless, her long red curls framing a face too symmetrical to be real.

“You’re scaring me,” she says, eyes scanning you with concern. “You keep zoning out. I think you have too much on your plate.”

She knows you too well. She always has. You’re a chronic overachiever, running yourself into the ground without ever leaving space to breathe. The difference is, Lara has balance. She’s just as busy—final year, business major, yet somehow her life is seamless. Perfect boyfriend, a family with money, an apartment that isn’t suffocating under the weight of bad decisions.

Meanwhile, you trick yourself into thinking that 5am gym sessions compensate for the disorder of your life, that productivity masks your wreckage. You can’t even remember a time when you weren’t a mess.

“I think so too,” you admit, sighing. “But I’m too deep in. I worked so hard for that internship, I can’t screw it up now. Maybe once I finish moving, things will settle.” You take a sip of your hot chocolate, hoping the warmth will calm your nerves.

“I literally offered to hire movers for you.”

“Okay, but who’s going to unpack all my shit?”

“I said I’d help you.”

You shake your head. “I don’t like people touching my things.”

Lara scoffs. “Why do you make things so hard for yourself?”

You don’t know. You really don’t. But it’s a pattern—one you can’t seem to break.

“You know I like doing things myself, Lara. If I can’t handle it alone, then what’s the point?” It’s a mindset etched into your bones.

She exhales sharply, rolling her eyes. “I don’t understand you.”

“Me neither.” You chuckle, but it’s hollow.

She convinces you to let her help with the move, and though you resist, you’re relieved. You’re grateful to have her, even if a small, ugly part of you resents how effortlessly put-together she is.

You’ve known Lara since third grade, since you found her beating up the class bully, Seth. You were inseparable after that. Her 4’9, 60-pound eight-year-old self had taken on the biggest guy in the grade and won. She was fearless, independent, kind—all the things you pretend to be. Maybe that’s why you push away her help. Accepting it feels like pity. It’s cruel to feel that way about your best friend, but you can’t help it.

She’s perfect without trying. And you…

You’re crying. Alone. In your car. In the parking garage of Lara’s apartment.

Pathetic.

You slam your forehead against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling up in your throat. You’re so sick of crying. Sick of feeling. Sick of yourself. The weight of everything—the past, the present, the future—presses down on your chest, suffocating.

Your phone vibrates.

A name you should’ve erased long ago lights up your screen.

Hwa: I want to see you.

You exhale sharply, fingers tightening around your phone. He always seems to find you when you’re at your lowest. As if he has a sixth sense for your weakness. But the truth is, you wouldn’t have said no even if he’d texted at any other time.

You: I need you, Hwa.

And that’s the worst part.

Because it’s not just loneliness. It’s not just sex. It’s something much darker, much deeper. A sickness rooted in your bones, in your mind, in the way you let yourself believe that this—this—is the only way you can feel anything at all.

Maybe that’s why you always end up in his bed.

Even though you know that’s not where you’re supposed to be.

-------

Seonghwa’s fingers trace the curve of your jaw, tilting your face toward his. The warmth of his touch sends a slow burn through your veins, igniting something reckless inside you.

“Angel,” he murmurs, voice smooth, coaxing. “Look at me.”

You do, blinking up at him from where you rest in his lap, curled into him on the couch. He smells like cedarwood and sin, his presence intoxicating. The movie playing on the screen is long forgotten, drowned out by the steady drum of your pulse.

It’s always the same routine—he comes over, you eat, you talk, you fuck. Repeat. Some nights feel different. Some nights, he lingers. Holds you a little longer. Whispers things in the dark that make your chest ache. Tonight is one of those nights.

His wife and daughter are away for the weekend, visiting family. He couldn’t go because of work.

You don’t know who you hate more. Him. His wife. Or yourself.

You hum softly, lashes fluttering as you meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, eyes darkening.

“You’re so quiet tonight,” he muses. “What’s on your mind?”

Everything. Nothing. You.

Instead of answering, you shift in his lap, pressing your thighs together. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed. His hand tightens on your jaw, the other gripping your waist. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyes locked onto yours, heavy with intent.

He leans in, breath warm against your skin.

“Tell me what you need.”

You swallow, heart hammering. You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. But your body betrays you, melting into him, chasing his warmth.

You whisper the words you always do, the ones that keep you bound to him in this cycle of ruin.

“You.”

Without hesitation, Hwa leans down, his lips meeting yours with a tenderness that should not belong to you. It is slow, deliberate—loving. The kind of kiss a man gives his wife, the kind of kiss a man should give his wife. And yet, here he is, pressing that devotion into you, stealing what was never yours to have.

"Hwa," you breathe between his kisses, your voice barely a whisper, more of a plea than a protest.

"Hm?" He hums, lost in you, unaware—or perhaps too aware—of how he unravels you piece by piece.

"You're so gentle tonight," you murmur, tilting your head to grant him access, surrendering before you can think twice. His lips trail down your jaw, onto the delicate skin of your neck, his breath warm against your pulse.

"I finally have as much time with you as I want," he says, each word pressing into you like a brand. "I'm going to take my time. Savor you. Every part of you."

The words hit deep, sinking into the hollow spaces you pretend don’t exist. He wants to savor you. To be with you. To consume you slowly, as if you are something precious, something worth lingering over. But are you? Is this self-destruction or indulgence? Is this a wound or a reward?

"I missed you so much, angel. Your smell, your face, your taste. Always so pretty for me. You know that?"

Here he goes again, whispering the words he knows will break you apart, dissolving the fragile pieces of your restraint. He knows you too well. Maybe that’s why he chose you. He knew you were empty, a void waiting to be filled, so he poured himself into you—made you whole in the only way he knew how. Physical love, fleeting love, the kind that fades with the morning light. Because there’s no way he could truly love you, right?

Hwa strips away his shirt, then yours, discarding them like the last remnants of reason. His hands are firm yet reverent as he lifts you, carrying you toward your empty, half-packed room. He stumbles over a box, nearly losing balance, and you let out a quiet laugh.

He silences you with a kiss, deep and claiming, before laying you tenderly onto the mattress.

Tonight, you are his.

Tonight, he is yours.

And when the morning comes, reality will take him back.

But for now—for now, he lingers.

#ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #atz #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #angst #ateez angst #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x you

57 notes · View notes

daydreamabout · 1 day ago

Text

The Line That Was Crossed [Tim Bradford Imagine]

Summary: Y/N and Tim end up in Sergeant Grey's office.

The afternoon was unusually quiet at the LAPD precinct, and Tim Bradford couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. It was one of those rare shifts where things seemed a little too calm, which only ever meant one thing: trouble was about to strike. As he sat at his desk, reviewing case files and making notes, he couldn’t help but glance over at Y/N, who was across the room, casually leaning back in her chair and chatting with Smitty. She looked relaxed, but Tim knew that beneath her easy-going exterior, she was just as alert as he was. They’d been working together for over a year now, and in that time, they’d become more than just partners. They’d become something deeper, more personal. Officially, their relationship was still lowkey at work. They’d agreed that it was easier to keep things professional in front of their colleagues, but the unspoken tension and affection between them was always there, simmering just below the surface.

But today, something was different. There was a fire in Y/N’s eyes—something Tim hadn’t noticed until it was too late. He was halfway through a phone call when it happened. A call came in on the radio for a suspected drug deal going down in a nearby alley. Tim immediately grabbed his gear, but before he could turn to Y/N, she was already up and moving, her eyes locked on the door like she was already ten steps ahead.

“Come on, we’ve got work to do,” Y/N said, her voice sharp with determination.

Tim nodded, grabbing his own vest and weapon. “Let’s do this.”

As they arrived at the alley, the tension in the air was thick. The usual suspects were there—two men standing near a car, speaking in low tones, exchanging what looked like a bag of cash. Tim’s instincts were on high alert, but it was Y/N’s energy that was throwing him off. She was moving faster than he expected, eyes narrowed, every muscle tense, but not with caution—no, it was more like she was ready to explode.

“Y/N, slow down!” Tim called out, reaching for her arm, but she was already halfway across the alley.

“Let’s end this,” she snapped, her voice cold as she approached the men.

Tim’s eyes widened. He could already see how this was going to go down. They weren’t dealing with some simple street thugs—they were connected, and any wrong move could escalate things in a heartbeat. Tim started after her, trying to get her to stop before the situation spiraled.

“Y/N!” Tim’s voice was sharper now, his hand on her shoulder, pulling her back gently. “This is a setup—wait for backup!”

But she wasn’t listening. “I don’t need backup,” Y/N said, her voice tight, almost angry. She wasn’t backing down. “These guys aren’t walking away this time. You said it yourself: enough is enough.”

Before he could respond, one of the suspects turned and saw them, and that’s when everything went sideways. The man jerked his hand out of his pocket, and without thinking, Y/N pulled her weapon, pointing it at the man’s chest.

“Drop it!” Y/N shouted, her voice filled with authority, but there was an edge to it—one that made Tim’s stomach drop. He knew her—knew she wasn’t a loose cannon—but this was different. Her finger was on the trigger, and her breath was coming a little too fast.

“Y/N, no!” Tim shouted, rushing forward to intercept her, but it was too late.

The situation had already escalated. The suspect made a move—quick, jerking to the side—and Y/N flinched, her weapon trembling slightly in her hands. Tim grabbed her wrist just as the shot fired, but it wasn’t aimed at the suspect. The bullet slammed into the wall next to them, creating a cloud of dust and debris.

“Drop the gun, now!” the other suspect shouted, pulling his own weapon, aiming it at them.

The situation was out of control, and Tim could see it in Y/N’s eyes—she had reacted in a way that wasn’t like her. It was raw, impulsive, and now they were both in danger because of it.

“Put the gun down!” Tim barked at the suspect, trying to regain control of the scene. “You don’t want to do this.”

Thankfully, backup arrived just in time, and the standoff ended with the suspects being arrested without any further shots fired. Tim and Y/N both were shaken, but as they watched the officers cuff the men and lead them away, Y/N’s hands were still shaking slightly.

Tim’s anger was building now, though not directed at the suspects. He turned to Y/N, his voice low but firm. “What the hell was that, Y/N?”

She glared back at him, her face tight with frustration. “I was doing my job, Tim. I don’t need you babying me.”

Tim’s jaw clenched. “I wasn’t babying you. You were about to make a mistake. I know you’re pissed about the case, but you can’t let it cloud your judgment. You almost got us both killed out there.”

Y/N’s eyes flashed, but she didn’t argue. She knew he was right—part of her had been itching for something like this, something that would let her take all the frustration out on someone. But she knew she had crossed a line, and it felt worse than it should.

Tim softened his tone, trying to reach her. “Look, I get it. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, but this isn’t the way to handle it.”

But before Y/N could respond, a voice interrupted them.

“Bradford, Y/N—get in my office. Now,” Sergeant Grey’s voice rang out, cold and commanding.

Tim and Y/N exchanged a look. They both knew what this meant.

Ten minutes later, they stood in Sergeant Grey’s office, the door shut behind them. Grey’s stern expression was enough to make anyone nervous, but Tim and Y/N had been in enough trouble before to know this was different. Sergeant Grey stood with his arms crossed, his gaze flicking between the two of them. “Care to explain what the hell happened out there?” he asked, his voice even but heavy with disapproval. Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but Tim cut her off, his voice steady. “It was my fault, Sarge. I should’ve stopped her before it escalated.”

Sergeant Grey narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t about you protecting her, Bradford. This is about judgment. Both of you crossed a line out there, and it’s not something I take lightly.”

Y/N’s face tightened with frustration, but she didn’t interrupt. She knew she’d messed up, and this wasn’t the time for excuses.

“You’ve been partners long enough to know how to keep it together, but today, you didn’t. Y/N, you were reckless. And Bradford, you let her be reckless. The next time, someone won’t be as lucky.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her stomach turning with the weight of his words. “I... I didn’t mean for it to go down like that,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I just—I got caught up in the moment.”

“I know,” Sergeant Grey replied, his tone softening slightly. “But when you're out there, you don't have the luxury of acting on instinct alone. You need to think, not react. You're both better than that. So, this is your warning. Don’t let it happen again.”

There was a heavy silence as both Tim and Y/N nodded in acknowledgment.

Sergeant Grey gave them one last, long look before finally speaking. “Alright. You’re both dismissed. But remember—out there, we don’t just watch each other’s backs. We trust each other to keep it cool. Now, get back to work.”

As they left his office, Tim couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. He’d been right to be protective of Y/N, but in doing so, he’d let the situation spiral out of control. Y/N was usually the one to stay level-headed, but today, she’d let her emotions take over.

“You okay?” Tim asked as they walked down the hall, his voice low.

Y/N took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah. Just... got carried away. I’ll do better.”

He gave her a small smile, offering his silent support. "We both will."

#eric winter #netflix #the rookie #the rookie imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford fanfiction #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford imagines #tim bradford oneshot #angst #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford angst #the rookie fanfiction #the rookie x reader

40 notes · View notes

ravewulf · 24 hours ago

Text

I was thinking about the fact Tyler Hoechlin was told that Derek had only ever slept with Kate right before he was about to film the scene where Derek and Jennifer sleep together for the first time.

Where did we get this info? It's also incorrect because Derek did have sex after Kate and before Jennifer.

Eli was 15 in 2026, meaning he was born sometime before Fall 2011 (start of the school year). Wind the clock back another 9 months and Derek had to have had sex with someone in 2010 before season 1 (season 1 started in January 2011).

(I have a headcanon that he also got into New York's gay club and/or kink scene since Jeff mentioned Derek going to Splash Bar, but that's a headcanon and apocrypha respectively, not canon)

That's enormously important information that he needed to know for his performance and not letting him know earlier than that was incredibly disrespectful.

If Hoechlin was told this (and I do not know if he was), you're correct on the first part but way off base on the second. Acting is a job, they tell him what he needs to know when he needs to know it. That is not a sign of disrespect.

In this case, they needed him to act as if it was the first time since Kate (even though it wasn't) because Jennifer was using the power of the virgin sacrifices to magically influence him. They may not have come out and said it like that because that knowledge would also have an impact on his performance, potentially making it less genuine if he knew Derek was being manipulated.

(He also said he knew the thumb hole shirt was totally wrong for Derek, but at that point he was so tired of fighting TPTB for character consistency that he just gave up in that instance.)

Source for this? And how is the thumb hole sweater wrong for Derek? I love Hoechlin, but the writers have the final say as far as what is "right" for a character (though we can always disagree with them, and I have on other decisions they've made). Derek has a soft side and we see more of that during 3B (getting candy and scaring kids on Halloween, etc).

On the other hand, Derek was possessed by the Nogitsune's fly at the time and it's a different outfit than he was wearing when the fly crawled into his wound back at the loft, so it could be chalked up to that if you don't think it fits Derek's character.

After Kate and Jennifer a part of Derek must have expected Braeden to try and kill him too, and when she didn't I can see him imprinting on her like a baby bird. His parents had a good marriage, and that was something he always wanted and expected he would have too. That is one of the reasons Kate was able to con him. It wasn't just sex and teen hormones for him.

Correct about what Derek expected, to some degree, as he's had pretty shitty luck there, but he absolutely did not "imprint" on Braeden.

The part about Derek's parents is completely made up. There's absolutely nothing about that in the show. If Hoechlin has a headcanon about it, then that's cool but it isn't any more or less valid than a headcanon you or I could come up with. Canon is strictly what happens in the show, nothing else.

Whatever his parent's marriage was like, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. Talia did some pretty fucked up things to Derek (manipulating his memories), Peter (manipulating his memories, ignoring his warning about the Argents, taking Malia from him), and Corinne (forcing her to carry Malia to term/making her lose her powers). Derek's dad isn't mentioned and we don't see him, so he may not have been in the picture at all. Peter is the one who helped raise/train Derek, for better or worse.

Kate was able to get to Derek because it happened not long after he had to mercy-kill Paige, which left him in an extremely vulnerable state. (The Paige incident was in Derek's Sophomore year, according to Peter, which puts Derek at 15 in Fall 2004. He'd turn 16 in November, then the Hale Fire happened in January 2005).

Braeden on the other hand, thought they were just friends with benefits. She did not want a serious relationship, and broke up with him when she found out he did.

Derek knew from the start that it was only a casual relationship. He saw her looking him up and down as a sex object back when she rescued him and Peter in 3B.

Most importantly, Braeden didn't break up with Derek, it's the other way around. Derek implicitly broke up with her in the season 4 finale when he rejected her guns. That final kiss they shared was a kiss goodbye, ending their relationship before they headed off on a rescue mission he didn't expect to survive.

He broke it off partly because she didn't understand him as a person. While he was losing his werewolf abilities, she made assumptions that it was about power/what he can do in a fight. He tried to correct her that it's not about power, it's about being a werewolf in addition to being able to protect people. The enhanced senses and every other part of it, not just what can be used as a weapon. It's who he is and a critical part of his identity. Some more reading on this here

It was still a good relationship for Derek, proving that not everyone he gets involved with has to betray him and/or die, and helped him overcome what Kate did to him so he could stand over Kate, proud and unashamed, later that episode. It's also something that may have helped with his evolution into the full wolf form.

As for Cora, Derek and Peter took her back to South America as Beacon Hills wasn't safe. (but the real reason is Adelaide Kane left to play Mary, Queen of Scots, in Reign)

I was thinking about the fact Tyler Hoechlin was told that Derek had only ever slept with Kate right before he was about to film the scene where Derek and Jennifer sleep together for the first time. That's enormously important information that he needed to know for his performance, and not letting him know earlier than that was incredibly disrespectful. (He also said he knew the thumb hole shirt was totally wrong for Derek, but at that point he was so tired of fighting TPTB for character consistency that he just gave up in that instance.)

Braeden on the other hand, thought they were just friends with benefits. She did not want a serious relationship, and broke up with him when she found out he did.

Leaving Derek alone again.

(Are we ever given a reason for Cora going away? What if she found out about Kate and Derek, and blamed him for what happened? Even though it wasn't his fault, and he was the victim.)

By the time Derek and Stiles become a couple, they bicker as usual, but angry, yelling, fights are actually rare. The first time Stiles slams out of their place to cool off, Derek thinks it's over, that Stiles has left him because that's what always happens to him. He doesn't deserve Stiles anyway. It was only a matter of time until Stiles realized that.

When Stiles comes back hours later, he finds Derek curled up in the corner in the dark. He's stunned when Derek quietly says he'll pack up his stuff tomorrow. Stiles can have the house.

They talk, and after Stiles reassures Derek that this is it for him, he's not going anywhere, they eventually lay down some mutually agreed to ground rules. (Derek leaves when he's upset too, but he always says he's going for a run, and that he'll be back. He normally does it when he's feeling emotionally overwhelmed and scared rather than angry though.) The next time Stiles storms off, he pauses at the door to add, "I love you. I'll be back." Sometimes he even shouts it, but he always says it.

Luckily they know each other well enough by the time they get together that those instances really are unusual though, and they talk things out. Sometimes snarkily, but they talk, even when it's hard.

It takes time, but Derek eventually believes deep down that he's not alone anymore. :)

#meta #Derek #Braeden #Draeden #Kate Argent still isn't dead enough #Eli Hale #Tyler Hoechlin

81 notes · View notes

minoouz · 3 days ago

Text

Still yours ⛥ ‎ ── ‎ ( 이희승 )

Paring :: Jealous!ex!Heeseung x Reader

𝐈 . Genre :: angst???

𝐈𝐈 . Word count :: 988

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 :: Heeseung is possessive, Jake and sunoo featuring.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived, lights flashing across the room and music vibrating through the floor. You spotted Sunoo and Jake near the drinks table, deep in conversation, but before you could head over, Sunoo’s eyes lit up and he waved you over.

“There you are! We were starting to think you bailed.” Sunoo grinned, handing you a cup.

Jake elbowed him. “I told you she wouldn’t. You love parties too much.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip. “I almost did. You owe me for this.”

Sunoo pouted. “You love us too much to abandon us.”

He wasn’t wrong — these two had been your rocks ever since your breakup with Heeseung. They’d been there through the tears, the late-night rants, and the ridiculous ice cream-fueled movie marathons.

“I do,” you admitted with a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

Jake opened his mouth to retort, but then his expression shifted — his eyes flicked to something behind you, and his playful demeanor faded. “Heads up,” he muttered.

Your stomach sank. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The air seemed to change when Heeseung walked into a room — you hated that you still noticed it.

“Do you want to leave?” Sunoo asked softly, his hand brushing your arm.

“No,” you said quickly, straightening. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not when Heeseung spotted you almost immediately, his eyes dark and unreadable as they met yours across the room. Not when he started making his way over, moving through the crowd with that same easy confidence you used to love.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm and familiar. Too familiar.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze. “Hey.”

Heeseung’s eyes softened as they roamed over you. “You look… amazing.”

“Thanks.” You kept your tone cool, your fingers tightening around your cup.

“Can we talk?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “Please?”

Sunoo shifted beside you, and you could feel Jake’s eyes burning into Heeseung. They didn’t trust him — not after how things ended. And honestly? You weren’t sure you did either.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, forcing a smile. “It’s over, remember?”

Heeseung’s jaw tightened. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?” You tilted your head, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing. “I think I’ve been pretty clear.”

For a second, you thought he might push. But then Heeseung’s expression shifted — that soft vulnerability you thought you saw hardened into something else.

“Alright,” he said, stepping back. “If that’s how you want it.”

And just like that, he walked away.

Jake let out a low whistle. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you said, even though the ache in your chest told a different story.

Sunoo nudged you. “You’re totally not fine.”

“I just need a drink.” You turned toward the kitchen, needing some space — and maybe something stronger than what you had.

But when you came back, the ache in your chest turned into something far more dangerous.

Because there Heeseung was, on the dance floor — and he wasn’t alone.

She was gorgeous. Laughing up at him, her hands on his shoulders, their bodies way too close. And when his eyes flicked toward you — just for a second — you knew exactly what he was doing.

“Unbelievable,” Sunoo muttered beside you. “He’s doing that on purpose.”

Jake’s hand found your shoulder. “You wanna leave? We can bail.”

But you didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want to run away. You wanted…

You didn’t know what you wanted. But your feet were already moving.

You didn’t stop until you were at the edge of the dance floor, and before you could second-guess yourself, you tapped Heeseung on the shoulder.

His eyes lit up when he saw you. “Jealous?” he murmured, that infuriating smirk playing at his lips.

“Not even a little,” you lied.

“Really?” He tilted his head, his voice low and teasing. “Then why are you here?”

You didn’t have an answer for that. But when his hand reached out, settling at your waist, you didn’t pull away.

“Careful,” Heeseung whispered as he pulled you closer. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“Maybe I like danger,” you shot back, your heart pounding in your chest.

And just like that, you were his again — whether you liked it or not.

A/n :: DONT JUDGE OR ASK WHY I JUST POST MORE ABOUT ANGST. It's something about angst that I love guys, and the reason I put "angst???" Is because when I wrote it, it felt like angst, but at the same time, it doesn't, so it's 50/50.

#kpop #enhypen #minoouz #heeseung enhypen #enhypen heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #heeseung x yn #heeseung angst #kpop angst #angst kpop #heeseung enha #enha heeseung

28 notes · View notes

spnjediavenger · 3 days ago

Text

I See You

Title: I See You

Type: [very long] one-shot; matt murdock x sister!reader, slight/implied peter parker x reader

Warnings: flangst, two swear words?

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of bullying, self-image issues

Spoilers: none

Notes: Y/f/r - your favorite restaurant

I'm on a big Daredevil kick as Born Again continues to approach and i am so fucking excited for it i can't even explain

So there’s the classic Daredevil trope of reader being self-conscious about her looks and Matt not knowing what she looks like - this is a different spin on that (though at some point i might make one in the typical manner 🤔)

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!

Disclaimers: i do not own Daredevil, the comics, shows, or any of its plots/characters

Word count: 2444 (oops)

“Y/n, seriously, you shouldn’t listen to them,” Y/n’s best friend, Peter, told her as they approached her apartment building.

“You know it’s not that easy, Peter! Besides, you’re a guy. You’re not as sensitive about your looks as girls are,” Y/n defended, getting tired of the conversation.

“I get that, trust me, I do. I just wish you would be able to see yourself like I do.”

Y/n huffed and fought back the tears in her eyes. “Sorry, but I can only see myself the way that the rest of the freaking school does.” With that, Y/n turned and rushed into the building, leaving Peter to sigh and walk away to start his rounds of New York.

Seriously, why does anyone even hang out with her?

Because it’s the losers that do. Freaks have to stick together.

Her looks definitely aren’t the reason.

I feel bad for her family.

Well, it’s just her brother and he’s blind - so at least he doesn’t have to physically see her every day.

Are you sure they’re actually related? Her brother is hot. She’s the ugly one. No way those two are genetically similar.

The next to last ‘whispered’ comment was the one that got to her. Not only was it an attack against her, but her brother had to be brought into it. But, ‘at least he doesn’t have to look at her every day…’ Was she really that ugly? Y/n never saw herself that way. She knew she wasn’t the prettiest girl at Midtown High, but she didn’t think she was that grotesque…

Finally, enough tears had collected in her eyes that they ran out of room and had to spill over and down her cheeks. Her nostrils flared and she bit her lip to keep from sobbing. She unlocked the door to her and Matt’s apartment, hurried in, locked the door, and spun around to rest her back against it, letting out a loud sob.

“Y/n?”

Y/n jerked her head up in surprise, covering her mouth for a moment. She sniffed and tried composing herself enough to speak. “M-Matt? What are you doing here?” she asked as her brother came around the corner, still in his work clothes minus his suit jacket and shoes.

“We uh…we had a slow day at the office so decided to close up early for the weekend…I sent you a text,” Matt said a little awkwardly, having noticed his sister’s state before she even got into the apartment.

Y/n frowned and grabbed her phone to check it.

Matty: Slow day at the office, starling. See you when you get home :)

She closed her eyes and sighed. Given the day she had, Y/n hadn’t even thought of checking her phone after school.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Matt asked, concern etching his features.

“I…I just…” Y/n reached a hand up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I can’t right now, Matt…Later?” She knew there was no point in lying to Matt. Even without his super senses, he knew her better than anyone. And she also knew he wouldn’t let her off the hook knowing the state she was in.

Matt gave an understanding half-smile and nodded. “Later,” he agreed. He walked up to her and gave her a kiss on her forehead, rubbing her back a bit.

Y/n pursed her lips and went to her room, shutting her door, dropping her things onto the floor, and flopping onto her bed to try and nap her troubles away.

Y/n woke up about an hour later to the tail end of her phone buzzing next to her. Sighing. She rolled over and checked it.

Missed call from Peter

Knowing the reason he was trying to call, Y/n rolled her eyes and set her phone back on her nightstand. She ran a hand down her face and sighed again.

“Y/n? Do you wanna come out for dinner?” Matt called to her, knocking lightly on her door.

Against her better judgment, The girl sat up and muttered a, ‘sure.’

She pushed herself up off the bed and walked to her door. Slowly opening it, she gave Matt a forced smile, letting him put a hand on her back and lead her to the kitchen. Matt had set out some food from a restaurant down the street - Y/n’s favorite. They sat down in silence, Matt keeping his empty gaze towards his food but the rest of his senses on his sister.

Fork scraping plate in circular motion, no sound of swallowing or chewing. She wasn’t even touching anything.

“Aren’t you hungry, Y/n? You usually never turn down Y/f/r,” Matt noted.

Y/n flicked her eyes up to his unseeing ones. The ones that didn’t have to see what she looked like. As she thought this, tears sprang to her eyes again.

Salt and moisture in the air. She was going to cry again.

Matt sighed and pursed his lips. He stood up and held out a hand to his sister. “Come here, Y/n.”

Y/n took his hand and he led her to the couch. They both sat down, Y/n pulling her legs up and hugging them to her chest.

“Y/n…I know something is going on…and I know whatever it is clearly isn’t easy to talk about. I don’t like pushing you to talk about things but I think it would be better if you did. We can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s going on, yeah?”

Y/n nodded silently. “I know…It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

She sighed in frustration at herself. “It’s stupid, Matt.”

“Nothing that makes you cry is stupid, Y/n. And you’re one of the strongest people I know. So if something is upsetting you this much, I know for a fact it isn’t stupid.”

She looked at him and sniffled. He dipped his head a bit, encouraging her to speak. She sighed for about the millionth time that day and looked down at her hands. “Just…some kids at school were being jerks,” she finally relented.

Matt waited after her pause but realized he would have to prompt her. “I have a feeling it goes a little deeper than that,” he said gently.

Y/n started playing with her hands before speaking again. “They…they were talking about me being a freak…how they don’t know why anyone hangs out with me…” Y/n faded out as tears began a slow race down her cheeks again and her voice started quivering a bit. She was also hoping to not get to the worst of what they had said.

Matt sighed and bowed his head. He hated that his sister was being bullied. He also didn’t understand it. Of course she was everything to him but even if she wasn’t, she was an amazing person. “Look, Y/n…I know it’s easier said than done, but-”

“Matt, don’t tell me to ignore them or that I’m not what they say about me,” she warned hotly. “It’s easy for you to say that because you’re my brother and no offense but it’s hard to believe things like that when seemingly hundreds of other people think the opposite.”

Her brother paused for a moment, trying to think things through in the best way. “They think the opposite,” he repeated. “Thinking and knowing are two different things though, right? You told me what they think…so can I tell you what I know?” He waited for a moment, letting her know he wanted her to agree. She whispered an ‘ok’ and he nodded. “Your name is Y/n Murdock, daughter of Fighting Jack Murdock, and sister of Matt Murdock. You are incredibly smart - I know because you’re ranked in the top five highest GPAs in the school. You are incredibly kindhearted; you volunteer and are always helping others. You’re funny; even I can’t get Foggy to laugh as much as you do.”

Y/n sniffled and wiped a couple more tears away. “That’s all great but you can’t-” Y/n bit her tongue to stop herself.

Matt paused. “Can’t what?”

Shit. There was no going back now.

She closed her eyes and sighed, defeated. Opening her eyes again, she elaborated. “They…They weren’t just calling me a freak…they also talked about the way I look…that I’m ugly…how my looks can’t be the reason people hang out with me…”

Matt’s heart clenched and he could feel his stomach drop a bit. “And?”

Y/n wiped her nose on her sleeve and took a deep breath. “You can’t see me, Matt,” she whispered, voice shaking. “They ‘felt bad for my family’ but someone pointed out how you’re blind so you ‘don’t have to see me everyday…’ All those other things are great…but it’s a little different when it comes to how I look and…it’s just different, Matt.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair as he stewed in sadness. And this time he didn’t know what to say.

Y/n sniffled again. “...You don’t know what I look like, Matt. Not even when I was little…You went blind before I was born…It wasn’t right for them to bring up your sight but it…it just reminds me that it’s something I can’t get comfort about.”

Matt tilted his head back up in her direction. “How do you know I don’t know what I look like? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

Y/n frowned deeper. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t think I’ve asked others what you look like?” Y/n stayed silent but furrowed her brow, Matt hearing the scrunching of the hair. “When we were at the orphanage I’d always ask the nuns what you looked like. And as we both got older, I’d ask the other kids there, Foggy when we met him, Karen. Y/n, I don’t miss my sight as much as some people would think…but I’d be absolutely lying if I said I didn’t wish I could see what my baby sister looks like,” he said, voice wavering in the end. Y/n held in a cry as she saw tears collecting in Matt’s eyes.

“More than seeing the sky one more time?” Y/n asked in a small voice.

“So much more than that. But I’ll take what I can get by asking others and from what I can feel. So in a way, I do know what you look like. From your beautiful h/c hair,” he ran a hand through her hair; “to your big e/c eyes,” he covered her eyes with his hand, making her huff a laugh and smile a bit; he moved his hands to her cheeks, “your even, beautiful smile”; “your perfectly proportioned nose,” he continued, pinching her nose between two fingers. Y/n let out a watery giggle and swatted his hand away, Matt smiling now too. “So even though I can’t physically do it, I still see you.”

Y/n’s smile faltered a little bit at that. She thought for a moment then frowned again. “You heard me and Peter outside the apartment,” she said as more of a fact than a question.

Matt nodded. “I did. And I know he wasn’t lying, Y/n. Just like I’m not when I tell you these things. Sure it may seem like we’re outnumbered by the negative voices in school but that doesn’t mean they’re right. Kids bully others ‘cause it somehow makes them feel better about themselves. They’re the ones with issues - not you. If they’re making fun of how you look then that just means they’re self conscious of their own looks. So trust the facts and opinions of those around you who care about you, because they’re the ones that matter.”

A few more tears fell from Y/n’s eyes and she leaned forward to hug her brother. Matt happily returned it, one of his hands holding her head and the other wrapped around her middle. “I love you, Matty,” Y/n said.

“I love you too, starling,” he smiled. He gave her a gentle squeeze before pulling away again. “You should probably give Parker a call.”

Y/n sighed. “Yeah, I was kind of a jerk to him, huh?” she said.

Matt smiled a bit. “You were in a vulnerable position, I think he’ll understand. Besides, with how big a crush you two have on each other I’m sure he’s already forgiven you,” he said, smirking when he heard Y/n’s heart skip a beat and felt heat radiate from her cheeks.

“I-...He-...N-No, what are you talking about? We’re just friends, Matt. Best friends. We don’t- I don’t-”

“Yeah yeah yeah, sure. That’s why your heart skipped a beat when I mentioned it and it’s been racing since then.”

“Stop listening to my heart! It’s weird!”

“And why you’re blushing.”

Y/n groaned and covered her face with her hands, falling back on the couch.

“Aw, come on, don’t cover your beautiful face, starling. It’s so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Stop!”

“Go on, go call your crush and be all awkward on the phone,” Matt teased, poking at Y/n’s sides and trying to pull her hands away from her face.

She yelped and rolled off the couch, knowing full-well Matt could have kept her there but graciously let her escape the embarrassment for the moment.

“You’re my big brother - aren’t you supposed to be against me liking guys and threaten and scare them away?” she huffed as she stood up.

“So you do like him?” he said, smiling feraly from his place on the couch.

“I-...” Instead of incriminating herself further, she bolted to her room and shut the door behind her. “Damn lawyer skills!” she yelled, making Matt laugh out loud. “Don’t listen to my call!” she yelled again.

“I won’t!”

Matt shook his head and turned the TV on, listening in on whatever Y/n had been watching last.

In her room, Y/n went to grab her phone, freezing when she caught her reflection in the mirror on the wall. She dared a look and bravely stepped in front of it. She ran a hand through her hair and stared at herself for a moment.

Beautiful h/c hair, big e/c eyes, even, beautiful smile, proportioned nose. Easing into her smile, Y/n felt more at ease. She could finally see it. She was beautiful. The jerks at school were wrong. If her blind brother could tell these things, then anyone could. But what mattered most was what the people she loved and cared about thought. They saw her for who she was. And that was enough.

A/N: for anyone who suffers with self image - everyone is beautiful and special in their own unique way and please don’t ever doubt that!

26 notes · View notes

starry-slithers · 2 days ago

Text

A ‘Perfect’ Day

Pairing: Liam Calloway x Eloise Babbit. @myokk

Summary: In which Liam asks Eloise out for a friends date as stupid Sallow hadn’t taken the initiative and realised just how truly amazing Eloise was. With everything so meticulously planned, what could go wrong?

Liam sat with Eloise between his legs. Due to the height difference, it was easier for him to plait her hair like this in her usual style. Obviously he’d made sure to learn exactly how she liked it. What kind of ‘best friend’ would he be if he didn’t? Eloise hummed contently while his fingers deftly wove through her hair, pausing sometimes to read her book aloud to him, because he liked hearing her read and was interested in her interests.

“Do you like the beach, Bunny?” He liked calling her ‘bunny’ because her last name, Babbit, made him think of rabbits.

“When I’m not fighting Graphorns then yes.”

Liam tied off the plait and nuzzled his nose into the top of her head.

“Would you like to go to the beach with me? Seeing as neither of us have a date we can have a friends day out, you know? I can pamper you all day long.” He knew she had a soft spot for quality time, he’d been noting down every little thing about her in preparation. He knew that despite being happy receiving any gift, she had a preference for books and slightly wrinkled her nose at bouquets of flowers because of her damn fiancée. And although the wrinkle was all cute and skrunkly when paired with a smile rather than a barely concealed grimace, he wanted today to be perfect for her.

“Well what time?” She asked curiously.

“Right now, if that’s what you’d like. What Miss Babbit wants, Miss Babbit gets, today.” He smiled, thumbs rubbing the tense point between her shoulder blades because her muscles were ever so stiff from hunching over and studying and how heavy her bag was. He made a mental note to carry it for her more often. It’s not that he thought she couldn’t do it. He knew she could knock him on his ass and that was insanely hot to him. He just wanted to make sure she was alright. She could do it. But she didn’t have to.

And that’s how the hufflepuff and Slytherin ended up at the beach, Liam’s coat hanging on the brunette’s small frame to ensure the sharp sea air wouldn’t give her a cold. But he’d still slipped some pepper up potion in the tea just in case. Liam sighed and plopped his head on her lap, always one for physical affection despite the fact he was an older year. He’d met Eloise through his sister and obviously had to meet the girl himself, only to find himself utterly enchanted by her. He rolled over a little to gaze up at her. All sharp features and edges, but he found them beautiful. He found her beautiful.

“Say ‘ahh’” he snickered, taking a lemon tart and holding it to her lips. She took a bite and smiled. That made the hours of learning how to make the damn tarts to perfection all worthwhile.

“Oh I uhm, I got you something, Bun.” He smiled, sitting up and rifling through the picnic basket .

“You didn’t need to-.”

“Oh hush, yes I did.” He scoffed playfully before producing a stack of books, all titles by her favourite authors. Daniel Deronda, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility…all customised- the hardcover cases made by himself and a leather clasp binding them together.

“I hope you like it.” He smiled softly, tucking hair behind her ear seeing as it was a little windswept from the ocean breeze.

He piggybacked her all the way to the castle, picking flowers to braid into her hair.

It was, in short, the perfect way to spend Valentine’s Day. But it all went a little…wrong…when he walked her back to her dorm after their Friends Date. He got impulsive and just…kissed her cheek. Softly, gently. The kind that lingered for a moment and left a warm feeling in the place of his lips. But he saw the surprise on Eloise’s face and his blood froze. He’d messed up, he really had.

“Goodnight, Bunny.” He said. He was in such a rush to flee the scene that he forgot his coat, which was still wrapped around the short Slytherin girl.

Eloise touched the spot he’d kissed her and allowed a smile to grace her lips. Inside the dorm, was her gift to Liam that she’d planned on giving him after the date. Little did she know, Liam’s ideal gift was just spending time with her.

#Eloise Babbit #Liam Calloway #Friends Date #mc x mc #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #hufflepuff #Slytherin #AHHHHHHHH MYOKK IT WAS SI FUN DOING THIS AND SEEING YOUR ANSWERS IVE BEEN A SILENT ENJOYER KF YOUR ART FOR A WHILE ABF THIS WAS SO AMAZING #TO DO ILYSM I HOPE YOU LIKE IT NAKEJFJCJJSKWKFUCUGID

23 notes · View notes

silver-the-pendejo · 2 days ago

Text

A Love, Transformed

Wild (Linked Universe) x Fiance!Reader Hurt no Comfort Reader uses They/Them pronouns Dedicated to: @cloudninetonine (im traumatizing ur wife again cloud :D) Words: 1472

Wild wouldn’t show it, but he was relieved to be back in his Hyrule.

It had been months since the last time a portal had sent the Chain here, dragging him away on another adventure that had no end in sight. He was used to it—being bound by the duty to this land, having him ripped away from his home one too many times before that he’d learned to bury the frustration deep within him. But this time had been different. This time, he had left something precious behind.

His fiancée. His Y/N.

The thought of them had carried him through this journey, through the cold and the exhaustion and the ache of always moving forward, trying to kill the shadow. But now, finally, he was home.

They would be waiting for him. The mere thought sent warmth curling through his chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to hope.

Until they got to the currently being rebuilt Castle Town.

Wild was glad to hear the familiar hum of life that it was starting to become of Castle Town—the chatter of merchants calling out their wares, the rhythmic pounding of hammers as the buildings were rebuilt, the laughter of children weaving through the streets. They were still recovering from the Calamity, but there was hope here.

And that meant Y/N would be here too.

But something was wrong.

The stares came first.

People noticed him—recognized him—but instead of relief, their gazes were weighted with something else. Pity.

A tight knot formed in Wild’s stomach. His steps slowed as whispers began to fill the air around him. He couldn’t make out the words, but he didn’t need to. The way people averted their eyes, the way some pressed their lips together in hesitation—he’d seen it before. Felt it before.

He heard Twilight shift beside him, felt Time’s hand land heavily on his shoulder. The old man had clearly noticed, too.

“Wild,” Time said, voice calm but firm. “Let’s find someone who can explain.”

Wild swallowed down the sudden dryness in his throat. He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know. But fear, sharp and cold, dug into his ribs and forced his legs to move.

Where was Y/N?

They should have been here. Their Purah Pad should have alerted them of his presence.The moment he stepped foot into Castle Town, they should have come running, throwing themselves into his arms like they always did. They promised they’d wait for him.

The fear inside him curdled into something sharp. He turned on his heel, pushing past the merchants and townsfolk who looked at him with quiet sorrow.

Someone had answers. And if they wouldn’t give them to him, he would find them himself.

His feet carried him to the research district before he realized it. If anyone could explain, it would be Purah. Or Zelda. Zelda would know.

“Move,” he barked when someone stepped in his way, too impatient to be polite. The Chain was behind him, their voices murmuring, but he ignored them. The only thing that mattered was finding the truth.

The entrance to the research lab that had been built in Castle Town loomed ahead. He barely slowed before shoving the door open.

The smell of ink, parchment, and ancient technology filled his nose, but he paid no mind. His gaze swept the room, landing on a familiar figure hunched over a cluttered table.

“Purah.” His voice came out hoarse.

The Sheikah woman stiffened, then slowly turned. The moment her eyes landed on him, she stilled.

That was all it took.

Wild didn’t even need her to say anything. The exhaustion in her face, the deep sorrow behind her sharp eyes—he knew.

His chest constricted. “Where’s Y/N?”

Purah inhaled deeply, setting down her pen. “Link…”

His heart pounded. No. No, just tell me they’re safe. Tell me I’m overreacting.

He shook his head, stepping forward. “Where are they?”

Purah sighed, rubbing her temple. She hesitated. Why was she hesitating?

“Link, I… I’m so sorry.”

The words sent ice down his spine.

“What?” His voice cracked.

Purah finally met his gaze, and for the first time, he saw it. Grief.

“They’re gone, Link.”

His stomach dropped.

No. No, that wasn’t—he had just—he was supposed to come back to them.

Purah swallowed hard, voice unsteady. “We don’t know what happened exactly but, suddenl’y I couldn’t find Mineru’s secret stone, and Y/N suddenly was to busy to hang out with any of us,

Purah swallowed hard, voice unsteady. “We don’t know what happened exactly, but suddenly I couldn’t find Mineru’s Secret Stone… and Y/N was gone.”

The world tilted.

Wild took a step forward, shaking his head violently. “No. No, that’s not—what are you saying?”

Purah exhaled shakily, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “We think… we think they swallowed the stone, Link.”

The floor might as well have disappeared beneath him.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The words barely registered in his mind, bouncing around like meaningless noise—because they couldn’t be real. They couldn’t be real.

Swallowed a Secret Stone? His Y/N?

That was impossible. That was insane.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he choked out. His fingers clenched into fists. “Why—why would they do that? They wouldn’t do that!”

Purah’s expression twisted, grief etching itself deeper into her face. “We don’t know the full story,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But Zelda… she was the last person to see them before it happened. She tried to stop them.”

Wild swayed on his feet. His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat. “Where is she?”

Purah hesitated, but before she could answer, a new voice broke through the suffocating silence.

“I’m here.”

Zelda stood in the stairway of the lab that led to the second floor, her hands trembling at her sides. She looked exhausted—like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Like she had spent every moment since his last visit looking for something to fix.

Wild turned to her sharply, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. “Tell me she’s lying,” he rasped. “Tell me this isn’t real.”

Zelda’s eyes glistened, and she stepped forward slowly, cautiously, as if he might shatter with the wrong word. “I wish I could.”

The air was sucked from his lungs.

Zelda swallowed hard, clasping her hands together like she was trying to keep herself steady. “It was an illness, Link.” Her voice trembled, raw with grief. “A rare, terrible sickness. One that not even the best Zora healer’s could cure.”

Wild felt his pulse pound against his ribs, each beat hammering at the fragile hope clinging to his chest.

“They were fine before I left,” he rasped. “They were healthy—”

“It came out of nowhere,” Zelda interrupted, voice thick with emotion. “One day, they were fine. The next… they couldn’t even stand without help.”

Wild shook his head violently. No. No, that couldn’t be true. Y/N was strong. Resilient. They had fought beside him, survived through thick and thin. Something like this—it shouldn’t have been able to touch them.

But Zelda’s expression—haunted and weary—told him everything.

“It got worse,” she continued, her voice unsteady. “No matter what we did, it only kept progressing. We tried everything, Link. Every remedy, every ancient medicine, every ancient text we could find.” Her hands clenched at her sides. “Nothing worked.”

Wild’s breath came in short, shallow bursts. His mind was racing, screaming at him to fix it, to rewind time, to do anything but stand here and listen to the truth he had been too late to stop.

He shook his head. “Why the stone?” he croaked.

Zelda’s face crumpled.

“They didn’t want to die,” she whispered. “And the stone… it was the only thing left.”

Wild staggered, like she had struck him across the face.

“They held on as long as they could,” Zelda continued, eyes shining with unshed tears. “But we were running out of time. And when they realized there was no other way…” She swallowed. “They made a choice.”

Wild’s vision blurred. He shook his head, chest tightening until he couldn’t breathe.

His Y/N. His light, his love, his home—

Gone.

No.

Not gone.

Not dead.

Just—

Something else.

Something eternal.

The realization slammed into him like a thunderclap.

Zelda inhaled shakily. “I saw them, Link.”

His head snapped up.

She met his gaze, steady and unyielding. “I may be crazy but… they looked happier as a dragon.”

A suffocating silence filled the room.

The words echoed in his mind, over and over, like a blade twisting in his chest.

The dragon.

His dragon.

His Y/N.

The breath left his lungs in a sharp, broken exhale.

And then, without another word, he turned and ran, ignoring the call’s of his brother’s and friends.

Just me traumatizing Wild again. Anyways ty all for reading, request and ask's are open as always, byeee

LU Masterlist

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #x reader #lu wild #angst #hurt/no comfort

35 notes · View notes

kpopkurves · 3 days ago

Text

Set The Scene

The rain poured, drenching you both in its artificial downpour, but neither of you moved. Neither of you looked away.

Zahra Carter stood frozen, her chest rising and falling as she stared up at Joonwoo, her full lips parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

Joonwoo’s eyes bore into hers, unreadable yet filled with something that made her pulse quicken. His hands twitched at his sides, like he was holding himself back from doing something reckless.

“I’m not running,” Zahra said, voice barely above a whisper.

Joonwoo shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “Then stop acting like you don’t feel it.” His voice was rough, desperate. “Stop pretending you don’t want this as much as I do.”

Imani swallowed, her jaw tightening as she forced herself to stay firm. “It doesn’t matter.”

But Joonwoo stepped even closer, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him despite the cold rain.

“It does to me,” he murmured.

And then—he kissed her.

It wasn’t in the script.

But the moment his lips met hers, the world outside of them disappeared.

Imani stiffened for half a second before melting against him, her hands gripping the soaked fabric of his shirt as his fingers curled around the back of her neck. The kiss was desperate, unspoken words spilling into the way he moved against her, like he had been holding himself back for far too long.

A sharp inhale echoed across the set, and then—

“CUT!”

The director’s voice was almost drowned out by the collective gasps from the crew. The moment shattered, and {Y/N} pulled back, breathless, blinking up at Mingi in shock.

His eyes were locked on you, searching, waiting.

{Y/N} barely registered the murmurs around you—crew members whispering, the director calling for a break—because all you could focus on was the way Mingi was still looking at you.

Then, before you could react, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you off set, away from the curious stares.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” you hissed once you were out of earshot, your heart still hammering.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I just— I couldn’t stop myself.” His eyes met yours, softer now, vulnerable. “Tell me I was wrong. Tell me you didn’t feel it too.”

Your throat went dry.

You should’ve been mad. You should’ve called him out for going off script. But instead, all you could think about was the way his lips had felt against yours.

The silence stretched between you, thick with all the things neither of you had said.

Mingi let out a quiet chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “I knew it.” He rubbed the back of his neck before looking at you again, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. “Let’s get dinner sometime.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“Dinner,” he repeated, his gaze never leaving yours. “Just us. No cameras, no scripts. Just you and me.”

You should’ve said no.

But you didn’t want to.

“…Okay,” you whispered.

Mingi’s smile widened, relief washing over his features. “Good.” He stepped back, still grinning. “Now, let’s go finish that scene before the director kills me.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but as you followed him back to set, one thought echoed in your mind.

This wasn’t just acting anymore.

Reactions and Scenario requests are back open! I’m writing for many different fandoms!

15 notes · View notes

koffeesfancy · 3 days ago

Text

Burning | Koffee x Reader

Summary: As your best friend slowly withdraws from your life, you grapple with the heartache of her absence and the unsettling realization of unearthed feelings.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Romance, angst, coming of age

Word Count: 6153

A/N: Y'all... I have been working on this MONSTROUS wall of text since June 11, 2024. That's a long dang time! This story has seen oh-so many versions and changes, but I am so glad to finally have it out- and for the end of Koffee month at that! I am gonna take a break from the internet for a while after this, but I do hope you all still enjoy my writing in the meantime. Please feel free to share any thoughts or critiques. Without further ado...

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @koffee-lila-bailey @prettymrswright @onyxstones-world @pvnks0ul

౨ৎ

Summer had you in a chokehold. The heat was unbearable, and time felt like it was dragging. It’d only been a few weeks since graduation, but already, every day was starting to blur together- same old heat, same old boredom. You kept checking your phone, over and over, hoping for a message from Mikayla that never came.

She’d been weird lately. Short replies, random silences. A "cool" here, an "lol" there- like she was barely even trying anymore. You’d texted, called, even left a couple of voicemails, but nothing. Just radio silence. Your brain wouldn’t stop running in circles, trying to figure out if you said something wrong- if you did something wrong. But nothing made sense. You had always been close. She was your best friend. Was.

You groaned, flopping onto the couch and pulling up your phone again. There was a picture of her from a few months ago that you couldn’t stop looking at. Her smile, wide as ever, showing every tooth and bracket like she didn’t have a care in the world. Your chest tightened, and for a second, your heart did that stupid thing where it started racing.

Why was she so... ugh?

You dropped your phone on your lap and rubbed your face. This was getting ridiculous. What was her problem? And why did you care so much?

You needed to clear your head, to stop overthinking everything. A walk would help. Maybe some ice cream too. Anything to get out of this stuffy house and stop thinking about her.

Grabbing your keys, you headed outside. The sun hit you like a brick, but at least it gave you a reason to keep moving. Maybe just maybe by the time you got back, she would have finally texted a response.

The bell above the door jingled as you stepped into the corner shop, grateful for the blast of cold air conditioning. It felt like entering a different world from the sweltering heat outside. You made a beeline for the freezer section, ready to lose yourself in the simple joy of ice cream.

Until you heard voices. Familiar voices.

Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced toward the back of the row. Mikayla was there, standing with Jada. Jada?

You blinked, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. Jada-the same Jada who’d made your life miserable in middle school, convincing half the school you and Mikayla were weirdos. The same Jada who used to spread rumors about you two, whispering the word "gay" like it was a bad thing. You felt your stomach tighten just thinking about it.

And now she and Mikayla were standing there, laughing like old friends?

You froze, trying to disappear behind the nearest shelf. But it was too late.

"Woi, is that…?" Jada’s voice carried, and before you knew it, both of them were looking right at you.

You could feel the heat rising to your face and tried to play it cool, awkwardly pulling at the hem of your shirt. This wasn’t exactly how you planned on spending your afternoon.

"Jesus, look who it is," Jada said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Mi hardly see yuh around!"

Your mouth went dry. Mikayla stood beside her, wide-eyed and silent, like she wasn’t sure what to say either. Her reaction stung in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Was she embarrassed to see you?

"’Sup," you muttered, barely getting the syllable out.

Jada leaned back, eyes scanning you from head to toe, her smirk growing. "Yuh look same?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Still… homely…"

It wasn’t just the comment that made your chest tighten-it was the way Mikayla stayed quiet, her eyes darting between you and Jada like she wished she wasn’t there at all. The girl who used to be your best friend now looked… distant. And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You forced a laugh, trying to shrug it off. "Yeah, just, you know… grabbing some ice cream." You gestured vaguely toward the freezer section, desperate for an exit.

Jada chuckled, pushing her long braids behind her shoulder. "Right… Guhlang then. Don’t let wi keep you."

Mikayla still hadn’t said a word. You could feel her eyes on you, and it made your skin crawl. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Why was she even with Jada? It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

You nodded quickly, turning away, but not before catching the briefest look from Jada- a sneer. Almost like she found the whole situation hilarious. And maybe she did. You, standing there, feeling awkward and out of place. Pathetic, even.

Your face burned as you hurried toward the door. The knot in your stomach twisted tighter. You tried to shake off the weird feelings-the confusion, the frustration, the way your heart raced when you’d first seen Mikayla. Why did it always have to feel so complicated?

When you got home, you plopped in bed and sought distraction in a Netflix series. It had been droning on for a few hours. Normally, the screeching tires and fast-paced edits would have been enough to keep you mildly interested, but right now, it all felt unbearably loud. You weren’t even sure why you were still watching. You had never liked action shows, but this was one Mikayla had liked. She would lay at the foot of your bed, watching it on your laptop while you watched her. Now, though, the crashes and revving engines only grated on your nerves.

You shifted in bed, propping yourself up higher as you absentmindedly sucked on an ice cube, the cold biting against your tongue. It was a poor substitute for the ice cream you didn’t get at the store earlier. All that time, you’d thought maybe Mikayla was just busy, maybe she was going through something. But to see her, laughing and hanging out with Jada? The girl who used to make both of your lives hell? It didn’t sit right. None of it did.

Your eyes flickered over to your phone, screen bright in the dim room, as your thumb scrolled mindlessly through Snapchat stories.

One after another- video after video. Everyone was out, of course. Some house party, it looked like, with half your class packed into a living room. You scrunched your nose in distaste. The thought of it all-grinding against strangers, the stench of sweat and booze, everyone yelling over music that was already too loud-made you cringe. You would have rather been anywhere but a place like that.

But then, as you flicked to the next story, you froze.

It was just a five-second clip, the shaky footage of flashing lights and bodies moving in time to the bass, but in the background, you spotted something (or rather someone) that made your stomach twist. Mikayla. She was there, at that party. The camera panned quickly, but not before you caught the sight of her, head tilted back, as Jada Murphy poured alcohol straight into Mikayla’s mouth.

Your mouth went dry, and not just from the ice cube that had disintegrated moments ago.

You blinked, replaying the story again. And again. It was unmistakable. That was Mikayla, right in the middle of it all, laughing as Jada poured liquor down her throat.

A laugh that felt private to you only a while ago. A laugh that not many else had the privilege of hearing. A part of you was happy back then- that a line was drawn in the sand separating the pair of you from the rest of your school. They didn’t deserve to know just how amazing Mikayla was. You selfishly reveled in having her full attention.

But that was then. And this was now. As if it were Freaky Friday, you had become the voyeur looking in as Mikayla bonded with Jada of all people, and your messages went unanswered.

The more you thought about it, the more that strange, uncomfortable feeling deepened, clawing at your insides. A part of you wanted to let it go. Forget it. Turn back to your mindless entertainment until sleep overtook you. But then that bitterness rose again, pushing through your chest, making you feel restless.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you made a decision. Brash. Irrational. But you had already narrowed down a location using Snapchat Maps and were halfway out of bed, pulling on an outfit and grabbing your keys. You had no idea what you were planning to do when you got there, but right now, the thought of sitting here (alone, ignored, and replaced) felt worse than anything that might happen at that party.

You didn’t stop to think as you headed for the door.

౨ৎ

The bass hit you like a wall the moment you stepped inside the house, a low, pulsing vibration that ran through your chest. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and too much cheap cologne. Bodies moved in sync with the music and the sound of laughter and chatter filled the gaps between beats.

You hesitated for a second, standing near the door, wondering what the hell you were doing there. But there was no going back now. You had made the effort to dress up and show up, and now you were committed- even if you weren’t entirely sure what you were committing to.

Your eyes scanned the crowd for Mikayla, but it was hard to see anything clearly with the flashing lights and people constantly shifting in front of you. The knot in your stomach tightened. You hadn’t thought this far ahead. What exactly were you going to do when you found her?

You pushed through the crowd of people, making a beeline for the kitchen. If you were going to survive this, you’d need a drink first. You dodged a couple grinding on each other, stepped over a spill, and finally made it to the counter where bottles of liquor were lined up like a buffet.

Vodka seemed like the quickest solution. You poured a little into a plastic cup and took a moment to stare at the clear liquid. Maybe this was a mistake. But you were here now, and you weren’t leaving before you figured out why.

You took a tentative sip and immediately regretted it. The vodka burned your throat in a way that made your eyes water. You winced and coughed, trying to suppress the gag reflex that hit you.

A laugh erupted next to you. “First time?”

The voice was close (too close) and you caught a whiff of cologne, strong and clean. You glanced to your left and froze. The girl standing next to you looked vaguely familiar, tall with a casual confidence that radiated off her.

“It’s probably not a good idea to start drinking now,” she said, smirking. Her eyes held yours for a moment too long, and you suddenly felt very small.

You blinked, trying to place her. Something about her face… and then it clicked. She had been on the rival school’s basketball team. One of the starters, if you remembered correctly. The one who always seemed to dominate the court.

“You played ball at St. Mary’s, right?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you intended.

She grinned, a flash of teeth that made your stomach flip. “Good memory. Captain, actually. And you were one of those girls we wiped the floor with every year.”

You scowled, more out of embarrassment than anything. “We weren’t that bad.”

“You sure about that?” she teased, nudging your shoulder lightly. “I seem to remember you spending a lot of time on the bench.”

Her tone was light, but the way she looked at you made it feel like a game.

You tried to think of something clever to say back, but all you managed was a flustered laugh. Her grin widened, like she was enjoying how easily she was getting to you.

“I’m Kara, by the way,” she said, holding out her hand. Her grip was firm, confident, and the contact sent a strange rush of electricity up your arm. “And you’re…?”

You told her your name, feeling awkward and a little out of your depth. Kara’s eyes flickered over you, quick but lingering, and you got the distinct feeling she was sizing you up. She leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur.

“You don’t look like you belong here,” she said, tilting her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “A little out of place, aren’t you?”

“I- no, I-” you started to protest, but the words died on your tongue. She was still watching you, her gaze intense, like she was enjoying every second of making you squirm.

She laughed again, the sound rich and warm, and somehow even more disarming than her teasing. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. But seriously, a party full of strangers is not the right place to start experimenting with alcohol.”

Kara grabbed a beer from the counter and twisted the cap off with one hand, taking a slow sip while keeping her eyes on you. The way she held herself made you feel like an immature kid.

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach to your annoyance. She was just being nice, maybe a little flirty, but it shouldn’t have affected you this much.

Kara grabbed the plastic cup from your hand with a grin. "Alright, since vodka’s clearly not your thing," she teased. "Let me make you something a little more… sweet."

You watched as she moved with ease, reaching for a few bottles and mixers from the counter. The room around you felt like it was buzzing, but you were focused entirely on her. She poured a splash of something clear then grabbed a few different juices. Her movements were quick but deliberate.

The ice cubes clinked softly as she stirred the drink with a casual flick of her wrist. “Here,” she said, handing you the cup. “Try this. More your speed, I think.”

You took it and brought it cautiously to your lips. The first sip was sweet, with a bit of a tang, and the alcohol was barely noticeable beneath the layers of tropical flavors. It was a welcome contrast to the awful burn of vodka you’d endured earlier.

“Better?” Kara asked, her tone playful but with a glint of genuine curiosity in her eyes.

You nodded, swallowing the drink with a relieved sigh. “Yeah. A lot better.”

Kara laughed, leaning against the counter beside you, her arm brushing yours just slightly. “Figured. You don’t strike me as the straight-liquor type.”

The warmth of her presence made your skin tingle, and you suddenly felt hyper-aware of how close she was. The party noise swelled around you, but for a brief moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the kitchen, the sounds fading into the background as you sipped the drink she had made for you.

"So," Kara said, turning her body to face you fully, "what brings you here? This doesn't seem like your scene."

You paused, the question catching you off guard. What had brought you here? Wasn’t it Mikayla? Showing her you had a life too, that you weren’t just sitting around waiting for her to text back? But now, with Kara standing so close, her attention fully on you, your thoughts felt scattered, like you’d lost the thread of why you came in the first place.

“I-” you started, but the words didn’t come out right. You took another sip of the drink, buying yourself a second to gather your thoughts. “I just… needed to get out, I guess.”

Kara took another sip of her beer, eyes scanning the crowded kitchen before landing back on you. "Wanna go somewhere quieter?" she asked, tilting her head toward the stairs. "It’s kinda loud down here."

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yeah, sure."

She grinned and led the way, weaving effortlessly through the party. You followed close behind, your drink still in hand, your pulse quickening from the nerves and thrill and unexpectedness. You hadn't come here looking for anything, and yet here you were, trailing after a girl who had completely stolen your attention.

Upstairs, the noise of the party softened into a distant hum. Kara found a small nook near a window with a plush chair and stray pillows scattered across the floor. She plopped down on the arm of the chair, patting the cushion beside her as an invitation.

You sat down, the space between you almost nonexistent, and before you knew it, conversation flowed easily. Kara was funny and effortlessly charming. She told exaggerated stories about the worst parties she’d ever been to, and you found yourself matching her energy, teasing her back, and sharing little snippets of your own life that you rarely offered up so freely.

Somewhere between laughing at a dumb joke she made and arguing about an old basketball game, you realized you had completely forgotten why you had even come to this party in the first place.

Until Kara stretched, standing up with a little groan. "Alright, hold that thought. I need to hit the bathroom real quick," she said, flashing you a lazy smile before disappearing down the hall.

You exhaled, leaning back against the chair, still feeling the buzz of her presence. But then-

The door down the hall creaked open, and a group of people spilled out, talking amongst themselves. Jada was in the middle (and the loudest), but it was Mikayla who caught your attention.

She noticed you almost instantly, her brows drawing together slightly, eyes flicking over you like she wasn’t sure she was seeing right. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking her head, exhaling through her nose like she was trying to make sense of something.

"Yuh really here?" she asked with a sort of exasperation, like she wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or annoyed.

You blinked. "Uh… yeah?"

Mikayla's eyes shifted briefly to the empty seat next to you with Kara’s phone and beer bottle in front of it. Her jaw visibly tightened for some reason. "You don’t even like parties," she said plainly.

You weren’t sure what to say to that. It definitely didn’t like parties, so there was no reason to be here. But before you could come up with something, Kara’s voice cut in.

"Hey," she said, reappearing at your side. "We good?"

Mikayla's gaze flicked between the two of you, her expression briefly unreadable before she let out a short breath. "Wow," she muttered, then huffed a quiet laugh, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah. We good."

Kara didn’t exactly tense, but something in her stance shifted, like she was quietly assessing the situation. "Well, alright then," she said, her voice light but firm, like that should be the end of it.

Mikayla’s mouth pressed into a line. "A’right," she murmured, taking a small step back. "Enjoy the party."

She didn’t wait for a response, just turned to follow Jada and the others down the stairs, but not before you caught the way her eyes lingered on you for half a second longer than necessary.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Kara turned to you, her face softening back into amusement. "Sooo… wanna tell me what that was about?"

You sighed, swirling the last bit of your drink in the cup before setting it down beside you. "That was… Mikayla," you admitted, like Kara hadn’t just witnessed the whole thing.

Kara nodded, waiting for you to continue.

You hesitated, feeling a strange lump in your throat. "She was my best friend," you finally said, your voice quieter now. "But ever since school ended, she’s been acting like I don’t exist. Barely replies to my texts, never answers my calls. I don’t know what I did."

Kara’s gaze softened. "That sucks."

You let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah, tell me about it." You blinked a few times, forcing back the sting behind your eyes. "And now she’s always hanging out with Jada. Like- like we didn’t used to hate her." You scoffed, shaking your head. "Jada used to make our lives hell, and now suddenly they’re best friends? I don’t get it. I don’t get her."

Kara studied you for a second, her lips pressing together like she was debating something. Then she sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before pointing at you. "Alright, listen. I was just starting to like you, so I really don’t wanna say this, but…" She tilted her head, watching your face carefully. "You like her."

You frowned. "Obviously. She was my best friend-"

"No," Kara interrupted, giving you a knowing look. "You like her."

You stared at her, heart skipping a beat for a reason you didn’t want to examine. "That’s- no. I don’t."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. So, you don’t care that she’s been ignoring you?"

"I mean, of course I care-"

"And you’re not at all jealous of Jada?"

Your mouth opened, then closed. Heat rushed to your face. "That’s not-"

Kara smirked. "And you don’t get, like, weirdly flustered when she looks at you for too long? Or when she touches you? Or when she used to compliment you?"

Your stomach did something uncomfortable. Your mind immediately conjured up memories you wished it wouldn’t.

Kara clicked her tongue. "Yeah, you like her."

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "That’s ridiculous. I would know if I-"

"Would you, though?" Kara teased gently.

You looked away, your heart thudding against your ribs.

Kara sighed again, leaning back against the chair. "Man. This is kinda annoying."

You glanced at her. "What is?"

She gave you a flat look. "I was just starting to like you, and now I gotta help you win back another girl."

That caught you off guard. "You what?"

Kara shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal, but there was something genuine behind her nonchalance. "I mean, yeah. You’re funny, you’re cute, and I was kinda hoping we’d make out a little before the night ended, but-" She smirked at your shocked expression. "I’ll take the L. You clearly have some unfinished business."

You stared at her, words failing you entirely.

Kara huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. "Relax, I’m not mad. I like a challenge. And from the way Mikayla was looking at me just now?" She gave you a pointed look. "She’s jealous as hell."

Your heart did that weird flip again, but you ignored it. "You think?"

"I know." Kara grinned, nudging your leg with hers. "So, now what? Do you want my help?"

౨ৎ

The air downstairs was thick with heat and bass, the kind that settled in your chest and made everything feel heavier. People moved together with their bodies pressed close, and the R&B playing was slow and syrupy. All of it went to your head and made it hard to focus.

Kara led you through the crowd, pushing past couples tangled up in each other until you reached the center of the room. Your heart thudded as you took in your surroundings- too many people, too much closeness, and too many smells mixing together.

You turned to her, uneasy. "Kara, I don’t think-"

"Relax," she murmured, stepping in close. Too close. Her breath was warm against your ear. "Just follow my lead."

Before you could say anything else, she pressed herself against your back, hands settling on your waist. Your whole body locked up at the contact, but Kara’s grip was firm and guiding. Her fingers spread just enough to keep you in place.

"Loosen up," she whispered, voice low and coaxing.

She started moving first, rolling her hips in a slow rhythm, pulling you into it with her. You tried to resist at first, but it was impossible not to follow. Kara was patient, pressing you deeper into the movement, her grip tightening just enough to keep you steady.

You swallowed hard, your senses overwhelmed- the feel of her body molding to yours, the weight of her touch, the slow drag of her breath near your ear. Your stomach flipped as you felt yourself melting into it, the nerves fading into something looser, hazier.

The song stretched on, each second making your skin burn hotter. You didn’t know what to think anymore- only that Kara was making it far too easy to forget everything else.

And that’s exactly what you did.

So much so that you didn’t even notice when the song ended. Kara finally eased her grip on you. You let out a breath, dizzy, catching yourself on your feet.

Then you saw her.

Mikayla.

Standing across the room, watching.

And she was fuming.

The second Mikayla started moving, Kara took one look at you, one look at her, and patted your shoulder. "Welp. Good luck with that," she muttered before vanishing into the crowd, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Your stomach dropped.

Mikayla was already storming toward you, her face set in something unreadable, but her pace was fast, determined. You considered running- just turning on your heel and disappearing into the bodies around you- but Mikayla was quicker. Before you could take a step, her fingers wrapped around your wrist.

"Come," she said, her voice tight.

You barely had a second to react before she was dragging you away through the crowd like she had somewhere specific in mind. Your pulse pounded as you struggled to keep up. "Mikayla-"

She didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at you.

Up the stairs. Down the hall. Past a group of people chatting outside one of the rooms.

Then-

A door.

Mikayla shoved it open, pulled you inside, and slammed it shut behind her.

Your breath hitched.

Before you could say a word, Mikayla pushed you until the backs of your knees hit something, and you stumbled onto what felt like a bed.

You barely had time to process before she was standing over you, her chest rising and falling like she was trying to catch her breath.

"Awuh kind fuckery this?" The words came out sharp, almost accusing.

You blinked up at her, your mind scrambling. "What?"

Mikayla scoffed, stepping closer, eyes flashing in the dim light. "Yuh deaf now miss?"

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your brain was still trying to catch up, trying to understand why she was so mad, why she looked at you like that.

There had only been a few other times Mikayla had been this angry with you.

Once, when you hid you had a sprain and played through the injury for finals.

Another time in sixth grade when you gave someone a Valentine, and she ignored you for a week straight.

And then that one time…

Your stomach flipped.

You didn’t want to think about that one time.

You opened your mouth, but the words caught in your throat. The tension in the air was thick, making it hard to breathe, let alone think straight. All you could manage was a shaky breath, your heart hammering against your chest.

Mikayla wasn’t having it. She moved fast, straddling you, her knees pressing into the bed on either side of your hips. Her hands gripped your shoulders, and for a split second, it felt like she was holding you in place, but also keeping you from escaping.

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. She leaned closer, and the heat from her breath felt too close to your skin.

"Yuh nuh understand?" she seethed. "Alluh this… you and she-" She shook her head, her grip tightening.

Your mind was spinning. You wanted to say something, anything, but you could barely get the words out. "I- I'm not- I just…" Your voice faltered, and her face showed frustration.

"Shut up," Mikayla muttered, shaking her head. "Yuh really don't get it. You nuh understand nothing, do you?" Her voice was harsh, but underneath, there was something else. Something sad.

You found yourself glaring, frustration bubbling up in your chest. "Oh, so now you’re worried about me and her? What about Jada, huh? She was the one hanging off you earlier," you shot back, the words coming out sharper than you'd meant.

Mikayla froze for a second, and for a moment, you thought you might've gotten through to her. But then she smirked, lips curling into something cold and condescending.

"Shtupid," she muttered, the word dripping with venom. "Yuh nuh know what yuh talk about."

Before you could even register what was happening, Mikayla’s hands tightened on your shoulders, and then her lips were on yours—hot, urgent, and unrelenting. The kiss was a sudden collision, raw and feverish, like she had been holding back for too long and finally snapped. Her breath was warm against your skin, her grip firm as if she was afraid you’d slip away. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just the undeniable pull of something that had been simmering beneath the surface, now finally spilling over.

You froze. Your heart stopped, your brain scrambled to catch up. It felt like the world had suddenly tilted, like your body was too slow to react, too confused to understand why this was happening, or what it even meant.

But Mikayla didn’t give you time to think. Her hands slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. She tasted like anger. Like something you didn’t have the words for.

And as her lips finally pulled away, the air between you was heavy. Mikayla was breathing heavily, too. After a pause, she began to go off again.

"So this what yuh do now, huh?" Mikayla snapped, her anger still simmering beneath the surface. "Yuh just ah mess around with all the gyal you meet in sixth form? Play around with them like yuh some kind gyalis?"

You blinked, too disoriented to respond right away. What was she even talking about? "Mikayla, I- " You started, trying to make sense of her words. You were still trying to piece together what had just happened, but she wasn’t letting you get a word in.

"Yuh tek mi fi game?" Mikayla’s tone was biting, sarcastic. She scoffed, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. "Yuh move on like it’s nothing. Like yuh nuh care."

The words stung, but you couldn’t make sense of them. "Mikayla, I don’t- what do you mean? I-" You reached for her, trying to understand, but she pulled back, her hands balling into fists at her sides.

Then, all at once, Mikayla stopped. Her face softened.

"I didn’t get into sixth form," she admitted, voice quieter. "So I’m stuck doing nothing. And you? Yuh haffi continue without me… Yuh gonna forget me.."

Your heart skipped a beat as the words hit you harder than anything else she’d said. It was like a light bulb flickered on in your mind, the confusion melting away. The missed calls. The ignored texts. The coldness.

That was what it was about.

Your throat tightened as the realization sank in. Mikayla wasn’t cutting you off for Jada or something else. She was hurt. She was afraid that you were going to leave her behind, that your lives were going in different directions and there was nothing she could do about it.

You froze. She wasn’t mad at you, not really. She was just scared. And maybe, deep down, so were you.

But before you could say anything, Mikayla took a deep breath, looking away from you like she couldn’t bear to meet your gaze. "Mi know seh yuh gonna move on without me. That’s fine. Mi already mek peace and ting."

The finality in her voice made your chest tighten, and it felt like the walls were closing in. Was that really how she saw it? Was that really what she thought?

You didn’t have an answer for her, not yet. But one thing was clear- you didn’t want her to think that. You could never walk away from her.

You couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that overtook you. You leaned up, wrapping your arms tightly around Mikayla, pulling her close like you couldn’t stand the distance between you anymore. "I could never leave you, Mikayla. Never," you blurted, your voice thick with the weight of everything you’d been feeling. "I missed you so much. I thought... I thought you stopped caring about me. But now I get it. I didn’t know you were going through this. I didn’t know you were hurting."

Mikayla stiffened at first, her breath hitching, but then she slowly let herself relax into your embrace, her arms finally encircling you. She let out a shaky breath, pulling back just enough to look at you. "Mi try fi give yuh space," she admitted softly. "Mi nuh know how fi deal with... us not being us anymore. I can’t imagine not being together everyday with you. That’s how we’ve always lived. And now you gonna move on without me."

You froze, blinking at her as the weight of her words sank in. "I’m not," you said quickly, your voice soft with confusion. "I swear I’m not. I thought you were mad at me. You stopped picking up the phone, stopped responding. I thought I’d done something wrong. I thought I was too much for you."

Her eyes softened at that, a little edge of guilt creeping into her expression. Mikayla’s grip on you tightened as she rested her forehead against yours. "Yuh nuh too much miss," she whispered, her voice raw. "You’re everything to me. But I didn’t know how to show you that, not when I thought you were moving on without me."

You could feel the pain in her words, the hurt that had been festering for so long. "I’m sorry," you said softly, brushing a tear from her cheek. "I never want you to feel that way. I don’t want to lose you, either."

She kissed you gently, tenderly, as if testing the waters to see if you were really still there, really still hers. When she pulled back, her voice was barely a whisper. "Mi miss yuh so," she said, her words shaking. "And mi nuh wan fi lose yuh again."

You held her tighter, your heart swelling with everything you didn’t know how to say. "I missed you too," you finally whispered. "I thought I was the only one hurting."

She smiled softly, her eyes full of understanding. "So... we’re okay?" she asked, a little unsure, but hopeful.

You nodded, not even needing to think about it. "We’re more than okay," you said with sincerity. "We’ll be fine."

She kissed you again, more firmly this time, and you both settled into each other, the weight of everything finally lifting.

When the kiss broke, you pulled her close, resting your head against hers. "Does this mean we’re friends again?" you asked, your voice teasing but full of warmth.

Mikayla looked at you, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No," she replied, her voice low and serious. "Wi more than that."

And in that moment, everything you’d been unsure about, everything you thought was lost, felt like it had fallen perfectly into place. The world outside didn’t matter anymore. It was just you and Mikayla, finding your way back to each other, and it felt like home.

You thought you might drift off to sleep. The soft, steady rise and fall of Mikayla’s chest, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you- it felt like everything was right. You stared at her, unable to stop smiling as she traced light patterns across your arm, the soft rhythm calming you.

But just as you were on the edge of dozing off, the door creaked open. You froze.

It was Jada and Kara, tangled up in a kiss, oblivious to the fact that they weren’t alone. Until they realized they weren’t.

“Shit,” Jada muttered, pulling back from Kara, looking almost mortified. Kara, on the other hand, let out a soft laugh and shot a quick glance in your direction before meeting Mikayla’s eyes.

“Oops,” Kara said, her voice filled with that same mischievous energy. “Didn’t realize you two were in here.” She shrugged it off, the playful grin never leaving her face. “But hey, looks like our little plan worked, huh?”

Jada just shook her head and left. Kara shot you a wink and followed after her.

Mikayla didn’t move for a few moments. She was quiet, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed what had just happened. Then, slowly, she turned to you, her lips curling into a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Really?” she asked, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Alladat was to make me jealous?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but she raised a finger to stop you, “Now yuh haffi answer for this miss.”

౨ৎ

#wlw #sapphic #wlw post #koffee #koffeexreader #koffee x reader

16 notes · View notes

angelpointe · 2 days ago

Text

SCREAMS AND SHOUTS AS YOU INVADE MY HOME

Hello @ User Pastelaspirations ( I don’t know what you like to be called you should totally tell me Mayhaps ) !!! PLEASE DONT LEAVE AFTER I INFODUMP , YOU ARE A VALUED GUEST !!!!!

PLEASE TELL ME WHEN YOU INFODUMP ABOUT YOUR SILLY , TAG ME !!! DM ME !! ANYTHING !! I WANT TO SEE YOUR LITTLE GUY !!! OUR LITTLE GUYS COULD BE FRIENDS ,, I’d draw that tbh

All of the art is rather old ,, but I RENAMED THIS GUY SO MANY TIMES . He was just Angel sans at one point ! Then Seraphina Sans (different than Seraphim) and then he was Cherubim sans , dubbed Cheri , but I never liked that ?? So now I’m stuck on what to call this thing !!

Right now I’ll just call him Angel because ,, simple , easy .. she uses both He / him and She / her because . ME .

So … I don’t have a solid backstory for this fuckhead ,, I put her in so so many different trials and stuff - but !! I think I got the vague idea down ?? And if I don’t , who’s gonna stop me from changing it !! MWAHHAHAHA !

SO . BACKSTORY ?? Ish . GO !!

Angel is a specific timeline’s version of Reverencetale’s sans , ( Reverencetale is an au I made that’s a traditional and psychological horror parallel to Undertale , NOT AT ALL SIMILAR TO HORRORTALE , but it’s similar in some aspects , like the human child you play as isn’t frisk , and story differences and changes . I might ramble about Reverencetale one day , it’s very deeply personal to me though and I’m frightened by how people might react to it ?? Especially with the human child , because ableism is inescapable no matter what fandom your in .. ) ANYWYAS SO .

For context ; In Reverencetale , religion plays a massive part in the story , specifically a very radicalized and dangerous form of it that implies that monsters are sworn to become evil , and that locking them underground — closer to hell than heaven — has sealed their fate to never cross heaven’s gates . The monsters , as well as the humans in this world , are extremely religious and the monsters are terrorized by the ideas that they will all be eternally damned for the actions that they are ‘bound to commit’ , and in very very simple terms - live their lives as complete saints underground , foretelling of a prophecy that’s bound to come true . That a young human would come down from the heavens and put an end to their eternal damnation as long as they wait and never give into the temptations of sin . The monsters are specifically convinced that the only way they will be allowed into heaven is to die with no faults . That a short life that only demonstrates the best of themselves , even through punishment , would allow them to be free .

SO . with that being said ,, Angel is from a specific timeline in Reverencetale , but things went . Wrong ! And Angel got out of bounds ( went too fast or something , wing speed ) and fell out of the game - Which shattered her perspective on EVERYTHING . I don’t really knnnooww hhhow (??) but he eventually found himself in other parts of the multiverse , and was so confused about everything that people were saying about their own aus - about the kid , about themselves , about monsterkind , humankind , the nature of the world - everything was so different and so so much happier . Which made Angel feel so out of it , so confused , so . Angry . Frustrated . Why was everything so different ?? Why was everything so — beautiful ?

Angel never really was able to imagine a world where monsters could just . Be . Never experienced the joy and beauty of the world in a way that didn’t feel so haunting . He never knew a world where people didn’t live in fear of eternal damnation , that one day they’re feathers , skin , bones , every cell of their monstrous , disgraceful bodies would all be torturously plucked , peeled and grinded down into powder small . . A world where monsters didn’t have to be evil , or die early deaths to be saved . To be worthy of salvation .

And now Angel lives in what has always essentially been paradise in her eyes ! Made a few friends maybe , and is just ! There !!

That’s all I have for backstory IM SORRY :[[

HIS FAVORITE COLOR IS PINK !! He loves it very dearly !! She’s actually a very soft and kind individual , even though she can come off as rather stoic and scary sometimes ,, she’s so so friendly , just nervous ! Not well socialized -

I don’t know if he’d have any specific relations with any characters from Utmv , but I’ve like to add some !! I know he has some sort of relationship with my wife Sira’s Sansona , but that’s about it !!

Probably very weirdly poetic about existence ! She’d place meaning in everything , and I mean . EVERYTHING .

The bows and bells are actually meant to be a little ironic in her au , because . The playable character ( May ) is deaf , and the game tells you that you’ll know when she’s coming when you hear the little bells jingle , even though May can’t actually hear things like that - but the actual reason for her wearing them is silly , she just really likes the sound it makes ! And likes that people associate her with it ,,

OH YEAH , the hemangioma thing ! Okay so , so !

Hemangiomas are a real form of tumor .. a benign vascular tumor ( which essentially is a cluster of blood vessels that just . Exist ! ) it’s very common for people to be born with them , but very uncommon for them to really . remain ! After a certain point , they usually dissipate or rupture , but sometimes they don’t and they just . Stay there !

Angel has one of these , and it’s actually located in the same spot as mine , although her’s is bigger and EVIL . It’s not Malignant in the sense of like . It being a cancer or something damaging to her , but EVIL in the sense it makes him EVIL . A danger to OTHERS .

It initially was joke with my friends I had because I said my blood is evil and that’s why it congregated to the back of my head , its trying to form a secondary EEVVIILL e ( E , the evil twin ) but because I’m silly and I like making all my my characters dubiously evil , dubious little creatures ,, if her hemangioma ruptures , she will be consumed by the EVIL BAD BLOOD within her .

But that’s him !! I hope you liked my little ramble ,,

POINTS AT YOU . I WANT YOU TO RAMBLE ABOUT YOUR GUY EVENTUALLY . KEEPING YOU IN MY HOUSE AS A HOSTAGE UNTIL YOU DO !!! SHAKES YOU !!

I can and will draw them together , being pals , friends Mayhaps , perchance ,,,

Did I ever show you guys my Sansona ,, kind of ??

I forget that I ever have one of these , I don’t ever use him - I tried to put him in an au once and it didn’t work out

⚠️ WARNING . Blood and . Hemangiomas ? Blood tumors . There’s an evil blood tumor under the cut !! You’ve been warned !!

#You can’t just SAY perchance !! /ref #Angelpointe Art #e whispers #undertale fandom #angel sans #sansona #Utmv #IM STARING AT YOU .#CRAZY TOGETHER YOU SAY ..#CRAZY TOGETHER YOU MEAN .#Holding you captive whilst losing my mind because this rant has made me slowly actually LIKE this fuckhead ??#how did you do that #undertale #angelic sans #skeletonsona #I will go batshit crazy right now #I swear

41 notes · View notes