#my heart shattered again for the third time this week

[daysiewish]

just when I thought I was feeling a little better and coping over the past weekend happening

MAD had to drop this

I'm in shambles

crying

[facefullofsadness]

I can't fall in love with you

university!au

crush!giselle x admirer!reader

prompt - minjeong is so in love with her girlfriend aeri, but so are you, and you can't be

content - angst, complicated relationship dynamics, alcohol usage, allusions to suicide

wc - 3378

a/n - cathartic: involving the release of strong emotions

the sky is covered with dark clouds, there must be rain today.

it's almost ironic how the weather works, considering the number of nights I've been crying recently. it's been weeks since I last talked to aeri. I've avoided her like the plague to run away from the reality of whatever was brewing inside me emotionally that I felt towards her. minjeong is an incredible girl and the only girl that should really matter in aeri's life, I can't possibly interrupt that, no matter how badly I want minjeong's girlfriend.

knowing aeri for months, we grew closer together, to each other. I got so attached to her; she listened to me, let me rant to her about anything I wanted to, important or irrelevant, took care of me in the moments where I felt out of control of my own life, guided me through the days where I didn't want to try anymore, held me and let me cry into her as I shattered into a million pieces. my heart would always swell thousands of times its original size when she would look at me with those soft and kind eyes, running her big hands through my hair and holding me close as I sobbed, her comforting words making me melt all over again.

I love her, I love her so much, but I know that having her is impossible. I'm not the girl in her life that she prioritizes above all, that she would run to even if I'm on the floor sobbing, even if she made me feel that way. I realized this and became terrified, so I ran away. I abandoned her even after promising to never do so, ghosting her in an effort to leave her to live her life as normal, without so much baggage weighing on her shoulders because of me. but I so badly wanted to go back to her, run into her embrace that would instantly cure me of my agony, but I fought myself instead.

I was a fool to think I could listen to my brain and not follow my heart. cause as I drink the last of my third bottle of alcohol of the night, drunk out of my mind, I couldn't stop myself from texting her. of course, I should've thrown out my phone long ago. incoherent words send themselves to aeri, letters I can barely comprehend. but only minutes later, my vision clears when she replies:

</3: come to the playground

the playground near my apartment, a place we knew well, a place we went to for amusement or solace. maybe, this time it was more for conclusion.

"I hate when you're like this."

aeri says as I stumble over myself to reach the pole holding the swing set up.

"you act like I'm self-destructive or something," I respond sarcastically, slurring over my words, the alcohol in my system taking over completely.

she sighs at what I said, "don't joke around. I don't want you killing yourself... don't you see how hard I'm trying for you? don't you know how much I care about you y/n? how fucking heartbreaking it is to see you like this?"

even intoxicated, I can hear the venom in her voice as she gets irritated with me.

I chuckle back, "oh whatever aeri, don't waste your energy on me."

"fuck you y/n, I can't keep doing this," aeri raises her voice, desperation and exhaustion evident in it.

silence hangs for a second as my world spins, vision blurry, the darkness of the night not helping at all. my stomach churns and my heart burns, aching. all the things I want to confess to her getting stuck in my throat, unable to release itself.

I hiccup once before uttering out, "then leave, don't waste your time on me."

the sound of aeri clenching her fists around the metal supports of the swing are loud enough to be heard, but then, it's silent again. the summer late night breeze flows through the air, a solo lamp post above us providing us with the faintest amount of light, distant chirps of cicadas to accompany the noise of passing cars in the street nearby. then, a choked sob from the girl next to me.

I turn towards her, almost throwing up at the sudden movement. aeri's crying, a single tear falls from her right eye, running down her cheek and falling to the sand below. there's no follow-up sobs, just silent teardrops running down her sweet devastated looking face. my whole chest tightens at the sight, making my head spin more as the alcohol clashes with my heartbreak.

"y/n, if you wanted to leave me, you should've just said so..." it's practically a whisper, barely audible to my dazed mind, but I'm fully zoned in on listening to anything aeri has to say in this moment.

her words sink in however, my stomach unsettled from a mixture of the verbal heartbreak and the physical coping mechanism dancing together in tragic collaboration.

"if you were just gonna leave me hanging for so long, you could've just told me," her voice is louder, "do you know how long I waited for you? do you know how badly I missed you? how badly I wanted to reach out to you? it's not like it would've mattered considering you'd just ignore me."

she continues, "I've tried so, fucking, hard, to ignore how badly it aches being without you," each word added with a pause to emphasize herself. "every single second that has passed since you left me, all I've been able to think about is you."

her eyes close shut as she now uses her hands as her emotions pour out her mouth, "I literally cannot stop thinking about you. my fucking head is just filled with you, you, you. I can't be normal, if my ears aren't filled with noise then the thoughts of you come flowing back in and I can't stop them from being loud."

she hangs her head, her arms falling limp beside her, voice quieting down into defeated sighs, "you promised y/n, you promised me you wouldn't leave. but I can't hate you, I've never been able to hate you or dislike you or feel an ounce of disdain or contempt towards you because I don't, I never will be able to. I only but love you. and I can't stop loving you and I don't know how to stop, I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop, even if I tried it wouldn't work because I HAVE tried. and even then, I still fucking love you."

deafening silence hangs once again in the air, the tension palpable. I feel my chest squeeze, the overwhelming rush of emotions colliding with my fragile heart, feeling the liquid courage in my system turn to regret.

"always so eloquent with words, aren't you aeri?" my voice manages to squeak out, surprising myself, "but never enough to read the room."

she turns to look at me, eyes filled with tears. I hesitate from speaking, the words I want to say stuck at the back of my throat, stopping them from spilling out. if I weren't drunk enough to care, I'd listen to my thoughts, but my body reacts on its own, knowing that if I don't speak now, I'll hold this suppressed pain till the end.

"why do you think I've avoided you? why do you think I needed the space and distance? because I didn't want to see you? because I didn't wanna talk to you anymore? because you didn't make me happy anymore? didn't make me feel like the only girl to ever exist in this wicked fucking world, the only person to truly see and love me, the only person to make me feel like I mattered?"

I can't hold myself back as my emotions overflow from my tongue, unable to halt its onslaught, no longer in control of my own self.

I become louder, choked sentences turning into audible begs for her to listen, "do you really think my words meant nothing? that I didn't mean it when I said all those things to you? that you were the first person, the only person I would go to when I felt like shit? did you even listen to me?!"

"of course I fucking listened to you y/n! why are you acting like I'm stupid?!" aeri argues with me.

"because you're blind aeri!" I argue back, "can't you see?! can't you fucking see what's going on?!"

"I don't understand!"

"I'm in love with you aeri! I'm in love with all of you, every single part of you! I love your smile, your voice, your laugh, your body, your hands holding mine, your warm comforting hugs, your hums when I lay on your chest, your pats on my back when everything is too overwhelming, the affirmation you give when I feel like dying, the interest you show when I rant about something stupid, the shine in your eyes when you talk about your interests, the gentleness you give me when I'm crying, the love you make me feel when you simply exist in my presence and even if we're not together you still make me feel like I matter! I fucking love you!!!"

drops of rain softly fall to the ground around us, a light drizzle slowly emerging from the sky, the weight of my outburst heavy in the air.

my voice croaks, almost whispering, "I've fallen so deeply and harshly and intensely in love with you, every part of my body aches because while I love you, I cannot have you. I know you love me too but you can't love me the way I so desperately want you to, the way I so desperately love you."

the moon glistens in her eyes, shiny with tears and cheeks trailing with raindrops. so much pain painted on her face, and yet she's still so beautiful, my heart longs even harder for aeri.

"being around you makes me feel like the angel you say I am, makes me feel like I'm floating above the clouds and you're the reason why I'm able to do that, makes me feel like nothing else matters as long as I have you. but it also reminds me of how it's all not real, how I can't just have you, that I'm not your only one. it's minjeong and it should be, but my god do I wish it were me..." my voice weakens with the last part of the sentence, the tears streaming down my trembling cheeks.

"so aeri, I'm inexplicably sorry for breaking your heart, but mine is shattered too. my reality, this reality, it's unbearable, and I so badly yearn for you. I've been agonizingly in pain wanting you, needing you ever since I've left with no words, but resisting it because I can't ruin the good thing you and minjeong have. no matter how insanely desperate I am for you, I know it's not right for me to fight myself for you."

we both cry silently, the slight rustle of leaves from the trees around us in harmony with the serene but heartbreaking drizzle of rain muffled by the sand of the dark abandoned playground. it pained me greatly watching the love of my life look so utterly torn apart in front of me, me being the reason aeri was so broken. all I want to do is reach out to her, cup her precious face into my hands, wipe the salty tears from her cheeks, and kiss her plump trembling lips, reassure her that everything will be okay. but again, I can't, I couldn't, my shoes glued to the floor and hands clutching the material of my jacket, like I could hold in the pain aching in my chest.

"y/n..." her voice shaky, tone unrecognizable compared to the comforting and confident girl I knew, "I love you."

even though her voice was weak, what she said made my knees wanna give out, buckling at her words. she had told me she loved me before but this time she sounded different, it made my churning stomach fill with butterflies. my chest pounded harder as aeri started to walk closer to me, tiny but impactful steps as she was almost up against me. her warm hands carefully cupping my cheeks, thumbs caressing my skin and wiping my tears away as I melt completely into her touch. as my eyes close, I feel her forehead rest against mine, aeri's soft lips very slightly grazing mine, my hands falling to slip themselves into her hoodie, holding her close by her waist, afraid to let go.

I clutch her tightly, a contrast to the soft grasp aeri's hands hold my face in, so warm on my cheeks. even for this small moment in time that the two of us settle in, I feel all my anxiety and agony wash away with the rain, comforted and at peace with the world when I'm with her, the girl I'm so tragically in love with holding me like it's the only thing either of us want, need. god I wish this moment would last forever.

what I would give to kiss her right now. how badly I want to just close the miniscule amount of distance between us and feel her soft lips mold against my strawberry soju flavored ones. how desperately I want to pull her into me and never let go, making out with her breathlessly. and how painfully I hold myself back, restricting myself from acting upon any urge I harbor, not letting myself give my everything to the woman I love.

"aeri... I love you," my voice breaks in a sob, "and I'm sorry..."

I take a good look at my one and only girl for the last time, observing her perfection, how ethereal aeri uchinaga is to me. then I rip myself away from her warmth, turning and never looking back, tears welling up in my eyes and blurring my vision of the already pitch black night.

I run. I run and run. I keep running. I cry, furiously. I can't see anything. all I can hear is the sound of my own sobs as I throw myself against the wall of a building and shrink to the floor, wailing into my arms.

the days that followed were a blur. I don't remember how the night ended, how I got home, what happened after, nothing. I didn't touch my phone, didn't contact or respond to anyone, just rotted the days away in my bed, eating or using the bathroom when my stomach hurt too much. not even a knock at the door would force me to get up from my asylum, not a phone call, not an urgent emergency, not anything that could possibly be of importance. simply because nothing mattered. I used to believe it would all be okay if nothing did matter, but my reason to keep believing is gone now, she's all gone.

looking out the window all day, the clouds were dark and heavy, steady drizzling from the sky once again. I took a trip to the kitchen, interrupted by a white envelope on the floor near the door. it compelled me forward, shakily opening it and feeling all of my emotions run back to me as soon as I recognized the handwriting.

dear y/n,

I don't know anymore. I've thought a lot about everything and I just, I've got nothing. nothing to tell you that'll make everything okay, that'll solve any problems or issues, that'll make anyone feel better. I'm sorry y/n, for letting all of this happen. I've come to the realization that it's out of my hands, emotions and love, they act on their own, but while I'm sure I can't completely blame myself for how you feel about me, I could've let you go softly instead of letting you love me, even if I didn't know. I got close to you, closer than I've ever gotten I think to anyone, not minjeong, not my friends, not my family, you. I should've known that our clinginess to each other would lead to such a demise.

I write all of this to say, ultimately, I love you. I still love you, I don't think I can bring myself to stop loving you, again, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to. I'll be leaving soon, the fall semester is gonna start and I'll be gone and out of your hair in more ways than one before you know it. not that it matters but me and minjeong broke up. it was never gonna work out between us considering the differences in what we wanted and how impossible it was for us to be with one another. I could sense the end for us, I could feel her falling out of love with me. unfortunately I've lost one too many people I've loved deeply and I don't think I can reasonably recover ever from this.

y/n, if you're ever ready to love me again, in any way, shape, or form, I'll be there. I want you to know I'll never stop loving you, again, I fucking can't. I don't know why I keep holding onto you when I know it's over, I know we're over, I know you don't want to, or wish you could stop giving a fuck about me. so goodbye y/n. thank you for making me just the happiest girl I could've been for as long as you existed in this life of mine. you made me feel beautiful, gave me butterflies, made me feel like if everything in life fell apart and that if it was just me and you that it would be perfectly fine, like nothing or no one mattered as long as it was just us, you made me feel so fucking incredible, inside and out. I've never felt such euphoria from anyone before, and haven't felt so gorgeous until you came around, like the goddess you treated me as.

admittedly, I think you were slowly but very effectively taking my heart. I never let myself dwell on those thoughts for too long but deep down I knew that it was true. everything you said that night when I held your precious face in my hands, I couldn't ignore it, I was falling for you too. I wanted to kiss you so bad, to close my eyes as our lips met and ignore the world falling apart around us, but you pulled away and I stood there with my hands in the air covered in rain, feeling my heart break all over again. I love minjeong and I'll continue to love her till I die, but I don't think I was in love with her anymore, but in love now with you. letting you steal my heart while minjeong's heart was in my hands is regrettable, I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself even if she never knows. though, I don't regret having fallen for you, I mean I wouldn't have if there was no reason to, right? but ultimately, it's my fault for letting two incredible people fall in love with me, someone who couldn't keep their hearts from breaking in the end.

I can't promise you this little life of mine will last long, I'm, broken, shattered, and quite frankly, I don't wanna try loving anymore, I think this might've been my last straw. I've never been good with love, you know that, and yet you loved me, maybe you still do. I don't know if I can handle anyone else falling in love with me and letting myself fumble with their precious emotions any longer, so taking out the middle man feels like the conclusion I've reached. we both ended up breaking our promises of staying for each other, didn't we? how ironic, isn't it y/n? I'm sorry for leaving you, but I can't find it in my own fragile heart to stay. so, thank you for being my friend, my love, mine.

I'll protect you from the other side,

your aeri

the rain outside started to pour.

[0810hts]

thank you || p.gw

pairing: Park Gunwook x fem!Reader

genre: fluff, angst, academic rivals to lovers

warnings:school stress, crying, abusive parents, fight, kisses, (if I missed something, pls let me know)

word count: 1.1k+

(a/n: Not me writing this when I should actually be doing my Spanish presentation for tomorrow 🥹. Also, English is not my first language so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes and this is my first ever completed story so yay !!)

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Today was the day. The day you’d get one of the most important grades of your life. You made a deal with your parents: if you ranked first, you’d finally be allowed to go on the school trip. Normally, you’d be the top student—always. But recently, Park Gunwook had been fighting for that spot. One day it was you, the next day him, then you again, then him... the endless back-and-forth was driving you insane.

Because of this stupid competition, your parents banned you from seeing friends, canceled your evening lessons, and forced you to study non-stop. They’d always pushed you to be the best, ever since you were a kid. The second you stepped into elementary school, your childhood vanished.

This deal, this one chance to finally escape, was your only hope. The school trip to Jeju Island—just you, your classmates, and the teachers—was all you could think about. But now, you were sitting at your desk, heart racing, as the teacher passed out the graded papers.

"Good job, L/N Y/N," your teacher said.

Your eyes darted to the score—99%. A smile briefly crossed your face, only to vanish when you saw the ranking: second place. Your stomach sank. You didn’t even have to guess who came in first.

"Congrats to Park Gunwook for first place, L/N Y/N for second, and Asakura Jo for third. Remember, we meet at 8 AM Sunday at the airport," your teacher announced, but you weren’t listening anymore.

You buried your face behind the paper, trying desperately to hold back the tears, but failing. That’s when you heard it.

"Good job, Y/N. Looks like I beat you this time," Gunwook said, his voice light, almost teasing, until he noticed something was off. "Hey… are you okay? What’s wrong?"

Before he could say more, you bolted out of your seat and ran. Gunwook’s voice called after you, but you didn’t look back. He asked Woonhak, your friend, what was going on.

"It’s not you, man," Woonhak explained. "Her parents… they made her promise that if she wasn’t first, she couldn’t go on the trip. Now that she’s second, she’s probably going to be locked up studying until she’s number one again."

Gunwook was stunned. What he thought was just friendly competition meant everything to you.

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

Back home, the yelling began.

"We made an agreement!" your father shouted. "Looks like you didn’t want to go after all, coming home with that grade! Did Gunwook beat you again?"

"Yes..." you muttered, staring at the floor.

"Then it’s settled. No trip. You’ll spend the week locked in your room, studying like you should have been all along. Maybe then we’ll get our top student back," your father sneered, throwing your paper into the trash like it was worthless. And with it, your heart shattered into pieces.

"Yes, father..." you whispered, retreating to your room. You locked the door and collapsed onto your bed, tears flowing freely.

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

"And who are you?" your father asked, glaring at the boy standing in front of him.

"Park Gunwook, sir."

"Ah, the boy my failure of a daughter keeps losing to. What do you want?"

"I came to talk about her missing the Jeju trip. Just because she came second… it’s not fair—"

"Fair?" your mother interrupted, stepping into view. "We had a deal. She failed. End of discussion."

Gunwook’s eyes burned with frustration. "But second place is incredible. She works so hard, more than anyone. She’s the school president, always helping others, and everyone adores her—even the teachers. Furthermore, she deserves to go. It’s her last field trip before she graduates."

"She lost. There’s nothing else to say," your father growled, about to slam the door shut when you appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Gunwook?" you whispered, shock and confusion in your voice.

"Y/N..." he said softly, unsure of what to do.

You walked past your parents and stood before him. "What are you doing here?"

"Your friend here thinks you should go to Jeju. But it’s not happening," your father spat.

You gave Gunwook a sad, tired smile. "It’s okay. I made a promise, and I lost. You didn’t have to come."

"But Y/N—"

"Really, it’s fine," you insisted, your voice quiet and resigned, before turning and heading back inside.

Gunwook stood there, helpless. He knew there was no convincing you, not with your parents looming behind you.

"Now get out and don’t come back," your father snarled, slamming the door in Gunwook’s face.

Gunwook stood there for a moment, guilt and regret gnawing at him. He was about to leave when he heard it: the unmistakable sound of glass shattering.

He sprinted back to the door and knocked frantically, calling the police as he did. When the door opened, there you were—a sobbing mess, a cut on your cheek, terrified.

You threw yourself into his arms, trembling, as he shielded you from the sight of your father, who was raging, a beer bottle in his hand.

"COME BACK HERE, Y/N!" your father roared as your mother weakly tried to calm him down.

"Don’t you dare take another step. The police are already on their way," Gunwook warned, standing between you and your father.

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

Your parents were taken to jail, awaiting their court date. After the police finished questioning you and Gunwook, you were finally free to leave the station, suitcase in hand, unsure of where to go.

"Come stay at my place," Gunwook suddenly offered, breaking the tense silence.

You blinked in surprise. "No, I couldn’t—"

"I won’t let you be alone. You’re staying with me. I’ll protect you. You’ll be safe," he insisted, holding your hand tightly.

Blushing, you nodded.

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

"Are you sure your parents will be okay with this?" you asked, sitting nervously on Gunwook’s bed.

"They will be. Once they’re back from their trip and I explain, they’ll let you stay," he assured you, folding your clothes into his closet.

"Go get ready for bed," he said, handing you pajamas and toiletries with a soft smile.

After a long shower, you returned to his room, where he was lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

"Are you sure you’re okay with us… sharing a bed?" you asked, hesitant.

He put his phone down and looked at you. "Only if you’re comfortable. I can sleep in my parents’ room."

"No, I’m fine with it."

You slid into bed beside him, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of his nightlight. Turning towards him, you tucked yourself into his arms, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before hiding your face in his chest. He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

"Thank you. For everything," you whispered, as the two of you drifted into sleep, holding each other close.

The End.

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(a/n: Yeah, kinda rushed the ending a bit oops)

[m4rv3l-girl]

I got this idea from another user @logansgaar who recently posted about Bucky language switching. I thought it’d be a funny and interesting post, our Bucky Barnes forgetting the English word and maybe Sam and the likes really confused and he keeps repeating the word he’s meaning in another language? Idk.

Can you make it a Bucky x Reader?

In English, Bucky

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: None

Bucky wasn’t new to the chaos that came with remembering—or forgetting—things. After decades of Hydra programming and years of self-reclamation, some parts of his life still felt like piecing together a shattered mirror.

This week? It was the languages.

It started small. Just a few words slipped through the cracks, ones he couldn’t quite catch in English even though they floated vividly in Russian, Romanian, or even German. At first, it was no big deal. Y/N was used to his occasional mutterings in foreign tongues when he couldn’t quite put his thoughts into English. But now? It was different. He’d been waking up thinking in one language, holding a conversation in another, and ending his sentences in a third. The confusion? Bucky’s teammates—and poor Sam—were the first casualties.

Sam squinted at Bucky, who was pacing the room, waving his hand wildly as he gestured at the television.

“Ты не понимаешь, да?!” Bucky exclaimed in Russian, throwing his hands in the air.

“What. The. Hell.” Sam deadpanned, looking toward Y/N as if she were his last lifeline. “Seriously, why does he keep yelling at me in Russian?”

Y/N stifled a laugh, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. “He’s saying you’ve got the remote in your hand, and the volume is too loud.”

Sam glanced down at the remote, blinking as realization dawned. He turned the volume down, but that didn’t stop him from pointing a finger at Bucky. “Man, if you’re gonna yell at me, at least do it in a language I understand!”

Bucky groaned, running a hand down his face. “I said that, didn’t I?”

“No, Buck,” Y/N replied with a smile tugging at her lips. “You said it in Russian. Twice.”

Bucky froze mid-gesture, his brows furrowing in confusion. He opened his mouth to argue, only to shut it again, his eyes darting toward the ceiling as if replaying the conversation in his head. A moment later, realization dawned, and his shoulders slumped.

“Seriously?” he muttered, scrubbing his flesh hand down his face.

“Seriously,” Y/N confirmed, biting her lip to keep her amusement in check.

“I thought I—” he began, then groaned, cutting himself off. “Great. Now I’m yelling at people in the wrong language. Next thing you know, I’ll be ordering coffee in German and getting blank stares from the barista.”

Y/N tried and failed to stifle her laughter, the sound bubbling out of her as Bucky shot her a half-hearted glare. Even Sam, ever the instigator, couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You know, Barnes,” Sam said, leaning back with his arms crossed, “it’s bad enough you’re already hard to understand half the time with your whole grumpy-man shtick. Now you’re throwing in Russian? Man, no one’s gonna bother arguing with you anymore—they won’t even know how.”

“Thanks, Wilson,” Bucky deadpanned. “Really helpful.”

Sam shrugged, grinning. “Anytime.”

Y/N shook her head, stepping closer to Bucky as she placed a hand on his arm. “Hey,” she said softly, her tone cutting through his frustration. “It’s not a big deal. You’re juggling more languages in that head of yours than most people could even dream of.”

Bucky huffed, his metal fingers flexing absently. “Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like my brain’s broken.”

“It’s not broken,” she assured him, her voice firm but warm. “It’s just...overloaded. Like trying to open twenty browser tabs at once. You just need a minute to figure out which one’s playing the music.”

Her analogy earned her a faint, lopsided smile. “You always know how to make me feel better, Doll.”

“Someone has to,” she teased gently.

Sam, watching the exchange, rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, cue the rom-com moment. Can we get back to the part where Barnes was yelling at me in Russian, though? I feel like I deserve an apology in English for that.”

Bucky’s smirk returned in full force as he glanced at Sam. “Apology? I think I said it perfectly the first time, Wilson.”

This time, it was Y/N who groaned. “Here we go again.”

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Later that evening, Bucky was sulking. Y/N watched him as he slumped into the couch, his metal hand twitching against the fabric as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

“You okay?” she asked gently, settling beside him.

“I’m losing my mind,” he muttered, switching back to English. His Brooklyn accent was thicker when he was tired, which only made Y/N’s heart squeeze. “I used to be fluent in English. Now I can’t even remember how to say…ugh…what’s the word for when someone’s being difficult on purpose?”

“Stubborn?” she offered.

“Yes! Stubborn!” He sat up, glaring at his own hands as if they’d betrayed him. “I tried to tell Sam that earlier, and I said it in Romanian instead.”

Y/N chuckled, her fingers brushing against his metal arm in a soothing motion. “It’s not a big deal, Buck. You know so many languages—it’s bound to happen sometimes.”

“Yeah, but it’s annoying. And embarrassing.”

“Not to me,” she murmured, her voice soft. “I think it’s cute.”

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at her in mock suspicion. “Cute?”

She shrugged. “Cute.”

The next morning, Y/N walked into the kitchen to find Bucky hunched over the table with a stack of index cards, a Sharpie, and a determined expression. He was muttering to himself in what sounded like Polish as he scribbled words in different languages on each card.

“Are you…making flashcards?” she asked, stifling a laugh.

“Don’t laugh,” he grumbled, holding up a card. “If I write them down, maybe my brain will keep them where they belong.”

Y/N bit her lip to suppress her smile. “Baby, your brain isn’t a filing cabinet.”

“Yeah, well, it’s acting like a busted one right now,” he retorted, flipping through his growing pile. “You know how frustrating it is when you’re trying to say something and your brain’s like, ‘Nope, here’s the German version instead?’”

She slid into the seat beside him, resting her chin in her hand. “Maybe your brain’s just reminding you that you’re more than just an American soldier. You’re a man who’s lived through so much, in so many places, and somehow you’ve carried all that with you.”

Bucky paused, his blue eyes softening as he looked at her. “You’re too good to me, Doll.”

“You’re just lucky I took Russian in college,” she teased, nudging him playfully.

🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴

The multilingual confusion came to a head during a mission briefing.

“Barnes, are you ready?” Sam asked, looking expectantly at his friend.

Bucky nodded, and he blurted out, “Да.”

“...What?” he blinked.

“I mean, ja! No—uh, yes!” Bucky groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Sam burst out laughing, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Man, he’s broken.”

“Shut up, Sam,” Bucky snapped, glaring at him.

Sam only laughed harder. “Dude, you just said yes in three different languages in under five seconds. Are we sure you’re not a Hydra sleeper again?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his hand twitching toward the knife strapped to his thigh.

“Bucky,” Y/N said gently, placing a hand on his arm. Her tone was soothing, pulling his focus back to her. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous he can barely speak one language.”

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing under her touch. “Yeah, well, it’s still embarrassing.”

“It’s endearing,” she corrected.

🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪

When the day crawled in and night came, as they lay tangled together on the couch, Bucky buried his face in Y/N’s hair. “You really don’t think it’s annoying?” he mumbled, his voice muffled.

“Not at all,” she replied, turning her head to kiss his cheek. “I think it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.”

“How do you figure?”

“You’re not just James Barnes from Brooklyn anymore. You’re Bucky Barnes, a man who’s lived a hundred lives in a hundred languages. And you’re mine,” she added, her voice dropping to a whisper. “That’s what matters.”

He pulled back to look at her, a rare smile curving his lips. “I’m yours, huh?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a grin.

“Then I guess I can deal with forgetting a few English words every now and then,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

The next morning, Bucky walked into the kitchen to find Sam waiting for him with a smirk and a stack of flashcards.

“What’s this?” Bucky asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Your new study guide,” Sam said, flipping through the cards. “I took the liberty of adding a few important phrases. Like, ‘Wilson is the coolest.’”

Bucky groaned, snatching the cards and tossing them onto the counter. “You’re the worst.”

Y/N walked in just in time to hear Sam reply, “No, I’m the coolest—remember?”

Bucky turned to her with a pleading look. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You’ll live, Sergeant Barnes. You’ll live.”

——————————————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed this, it was so much fun to create! I love acknowledging Bucky’s past without it having to be upsetting, thanks, Hun. 🫶

Requests Open!

[angel-kyo]

emophilia

Not me thinking about Satoru easily getting his heart broken and indulging in sweets, ice cream, crappy romance movies, and the attentions of his best friend.

Warnings: None? Or I don't know. I guess Gojo being described as dating too much, and then craving sweets/eating too much after his relationships don't work.

=================

It always starts easy enough. Satoru's charms pull up the prettiest girl in the room, and a few sweet words later, he decides he will be seeing the world through rose-colored glasses for the next couple of weeks.

By the third week he is over the moon about how he thinks this might be the one, how he is falling in love, and how everything is going great... until it does not.

And then, the next marvelous date he has planned ends up with a conversation of how he is too much, or not enough, or just not quite what they are looking for. Sometimes he will even get the 'it's me, not you' line, but with the number of times it has happened, he just does not believe it anymore.

"Most magical thing on earth my ass," he declares, looking at the film currently playing on his tv. "A curse, that's what love is," he says, shoving another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

You watch him from the other side of the couch. "Easy on the ice cream or you'll get a..."

He groans, his face contorted in pain.

"...Brain freeze." You sigh and take the ice cream bowl from his hand before he causes himself anymore pain.

The agony lasts only a few seconds, enough for you to put away the ice cream in Satoru's kitchen and return to the living where it seems he has recovered and is now putting sweets in his mouth.

"Seriously?" you ask him.

He knows you will scold him for finishing up that box of sweets on his own in one sitting, but he cannot bring himself to care. He is heartbroken after all.

"I'll hit the gym tomorrow," he says.

And you know he will. That was his post-breakup routine. It would be one or two days on a diet that would put anyone a bit less healthy in a sugar-induced coma and of him clinging to you as if he could die if left alone; then he would work out like crazy for a few days, maybe ask you to stay as moral support through a strenuous training session, and in about a week, he would be as good as new, ready for his next true love to shatter his heart.

In a way, you believed Satoru was lucky. Yes, his heart was a bit too eager to fall and break, but at least it was somewhat easy to mend. He just needed you to let him put his head on your lap and massage his scalp while he complained about why his life could not be like the sappy movie he had just watched, just as you were doing right now, while you tell him all those lines that offered no real comfort but, for some reason, soothed him when it was you saying them.

"It's her loss."

"You'll be fine."

"You'll find another one," you mindlessly say this time.

"Can that be you?" he asks, and maybe he is too drowsy to notice that your fingers stopped moving through his hair for just a second, or the way you looked at him before deciding to dismiss his question.

"All that sugar is getting to your head, isn't it?"

And he does not respond because he has fallen asleep on your lap, again, like he always does. And you will not wake him up, because even though he may get over it quickly, his heart was broken after all.

=================

Note: Suddenly, I'm craving something sweet.

[nochukoo97]

R u Mine?

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: It hurts so bad seeing your best friend, who you have been madly in love with, with another girl. You secretly wish he would have never met his current girlfriend. It pained you to watch them interact right in front of your eyes. But what if things took a turn? What if you actually had a chance with him?

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: best friends to lovers, but theres a lot of angst at the start 🥲, JK drives a motorcycle hehehehehhe, a little bit of suggestive themes but nth huge 😊

a/n: hii i finally had the motivation to write this fic!! i wish i had this jungkook in my life 🥲 also, don’t be a silent reader and do comment and give feedback on this fic please :) i think i might write some drabbles and a bit more elaboration on this couple if the fic does well, then i’ll make it a series bc i LOVE. motorcycle jk. HAHHA

To say you hated Jungkook’s girlfriend was an understatement.

When Jungkook had introduced Eunmi to you, your heart shattered into a million pieces, yet you had to force a smile onto your face and act as if you were happy for your best friend.

It was hard, you didn’t know if you were being a shit best friend to Jungkook for secretly wishing that the love of his life, quoted by him, would secretly disappear, but at the same time it was so fucking hard to push down those feelings you’ve had for him for years.

There were so many instances, the little actions Jungkook did specially for you, that convinced you that you had a chance with him. You were always too scared to approach him and confess, but now you’re happy you did not. You would rather not get rejected by Jungkook and risk ruining your relationship with him.

Yet it was so painful to watch Jungkook smile lovingly at his girlfriend as she clung to his tattooed arm. It was so painful to watch Jungkook kiss her and giggle with her. It was so painful to watch Jungkook do the things you had envisioned him doing with you once you had gained the courage to confess to him.

Everytime Jungkook had brought Eunmi to a gathering, you couldn’t help but watch in jealousy, in envy of her. You couldn’t bring yourself to push away your feelings for him, it was too much. Eunmi was never a bad person, she was sweet and charming, but sometimes you wished she wasn’t. Sometimes you secretly wished your best friend had not fallen for her, but for you instead.

You hate being the “girl best friend”. In that vision, you never stood a chance with Jungkook. In that vision, he may cut you off for the sake of the love of his life. Yet you feel so fucking guilty for seeming so selfish, wanting the boy to yourself, not truly supporting his relationship, but more of just doing it for the sake of his happiness.

You sigh as you chug down another shot of Soju, watching Jungkook giggle with Eunmi at the couch opposite you. Jimin had organized another party in his big house for the third time this week, the third time this week you watched your best friend and his girlfriend flirt and break your heart further.

“What’s with the glum look?” Jimin slots himself next to you on the couch, attempting to look where you had been staring. “Nothing, just a little tired.” You brush him off again, for the millionth time, and even though you knew he clearly knew you were lying to him by saying you were okay, you were too embarrassed to tell anyone about your selfish desires.

Jimin only sighs as you reject his attempt to console you again, yet he already has a slight idea of what’s bothering you.

———————————————————————————

It’s been two weeks since Jimin’s party and you have been cooping yourself up at home, not leaving the house and looking like a wreck. Jimin had tried to ask you to meet him to go shopping, but you brushed him off again, giving a lame excuse of how you're busy with work.

You feel bad for brushing everyone off, especially after your other friends gave you a dejected look as you rejected their offer to hang out for the tenth time. Yet you’ve allowed yourself to fall into this depressive slump, as if your whole world is miserable right now. Maybe it actually is.

It's also been two weeks since you last talked to your best friend. You weren’t even sure if you could consider Jungkook as your best friend anymore, considering you went from texting everyday and calling each other to now barely communicating ever since he and Eunmi started dating. At least he is happy, you try to convince yourself.

You sigh and lean back on your couch, but your phone buzzes and the screen lights up, showing the caller ID. It’s Jimin. You sigh, assuming that he was going to try to get you out of the house again.

“Hello?” you mumble, getting ready to reject the poor boy’s offer again.

“___ I need your help desperately. I don’t know what else to do,” Jimin literally pleads with you over the phone.

You sit up, worry casted over your face wondering what on earth happened to him.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” You start to ramble, worried for your good friend and cursing at yourself in your mind for rejecting his offers so many times.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. This isn’t about me. It’s about Jungkook.” Jimin tells you.

“Oh,” That’s all that comes out of your mouth

Your heart wrenches as Jungkook and Eunmi clouds your mind again, but not before Jimin starts talking, catching you out of your daze.

“Anyways, he’s really wrecked, he won’t accept help from any of us and I think you’re the only hope left. Before you ask what happened, I’ll let Jungkook explain to you, it’s not my place to say this.” Jimin says, ending the phone call after he gets confirmation that you would be going over to Jungkook’s.

You don’t know what to feel right now. Confused is the best that can explain your feelings at the moment, having no clue why Jungkook was wrecked and why can’t his pretty little girlfriend can’t come to his rescue.

Okay, maybe you’re being a little too mean.

——————————————————————————————

You quickly stop by the nearby convenience store near Jungkook’s apartment, you naturally head towards the ice cream freezer, grabbing one chocolate and one strawberry ice cream from it.

Before you can stop it, the memories of you and Jungkook sitting on the sidewalk and eating these exact same ice creams from the exact same convenience store breaks your heart again. You would do anything to relive that moment without knowing what the future held.

You quickly shake your head, not wanting to delve deeper on those memories when Jungkook was in trouble, or you assumed, having zero knowledge on what was happening.

You knock on Jungkook’s apartment door when you get out of the lift, and a voice grumbles from inside, “Leave me the fuck alone Tae, I told you I’m fine.” You don’t recognise the hoarse and rough voice at first, but you furrow your eyebrows in worry as to why Jungkook was in such a state.

“It’s me, not Tae,” You softly speak through the door. “I can go if you want to be left alone, but just wanted to check in on you,” You end your sentence, prepared to go back down the lift and back home. You’re pretty sure Eunmi can come over and console her boyfriend instead of you.

You then feel bad for those bitter thoughts when you see the door open.

There stood Jungkook, dark circles under his eyes, hair in a mess, and the apartment behind him messy.

“___?” His voice questions, even though it sounds hoarse, he says it so softly that your eyes soften at his appearance.

The boy makes way for you into his apartment, rambling on about how embarrassingly messy it was, apologising to you.

“Jungkook, the state of your apartment is the last thing I’m worried about right now.” You start off as you sit down on the couch next to him, his body limp as he stares at the ceiling, eyes blank.

“What happened?” You question after a moment of silence, reaching into the plastic bag to fish out the chocolate ice cream you know he loves. Or you hoped he still did, or maybe his girlfriend introduced him to a new flavour and—

To your surprise, Jungkook retrieves the ice cream from your hand and breaks into a smile. You're shocked, seeing the old Jungkook you know flash for a second in front of your eyes. He whispers a soft “thank you” as he sighs, you can tell he’s preparing to tell you something big.

Before he can start, you can’t help but question him, “Also, why isn’t your girlfriend here? Shouldn’t she be comforting you right now when you’re in this state?” Jungkook’s eyes flash with sadness at your question, he chuckles bitterly as he begins to explain.

“Jungkook I am so so sorry, you don’t deserve that at all,” You pet his hair as the poor boy sobs into your embrace. That bitch. You never knew that innocent and charming girl had the audacity to cheat on your best friend like that. Jungkook’s expression broke your heart when he started to ramble about all the horrible shit she did. He couldn’t even finish his ice cream, putting the cup down before more tears dripped into the cup.

“Thanks for being here ___, I’m serious,” Jungkook mumbles into your shoulder, “The other guys suck at consoling me,” He laughs a little, and you smile knowing that at least he could laugh about something now.

Knowing that Jungkook was ready to move on, as he told you, you knew he was not the type to dwell on the negative things in life. If anything did not go his way, he would simply move past it, emerging stronger as ever.

You were so ready to support him at this time, wanting nothing but the best for Jungkook.

Yet you felt so guilty, because a part of you was rejoicing about his break up.

———————————————————————————-

Fast forward to a month later, you thank the heavens that Jungkook is back to his normal self, but you're being extremely careful with your feelings.

Jungkook not only returned back to his normal self, but he was unknowingly, or knowingly, playing with your feelings. He often did things that made you feel funny in your stomach, or made your ears and cheeks turn red. You want to think that he was unknowingly doing such things, but the smirk on his face every time he coaxed a reaction out of you said otherwise.

“Girl, I’m telling you, he wants you for real! Look at all the stuff he’s doing,” For the millionth time, Yeji is trying to convince you that Jeon Jungkook is in love with you. You refuse to believe her, afraid to get your heart shattered for the hundred-millionth-billionth time.

You groan at her attempt to convince you. “Yeji, let’s talk about you and your boyfriend, isn’t that a much more interesting topic?” You try to distract her, but guess what?

Perfect time Jungkook, perfect time to call you at this moment.

Yeji spots the contact name, “JK🐰” light up on your phone.

“Your lover is calling you~” Yeji wiggles her eyebrows, taunting you as you roll your eyes, picking up the phone.

“Whatcha doin’?” The voice sounds over the phone, you can tell Jungkook’s smiling as he speaks.

You try to hold in a smile but you can’t seem to control your facial movements at the moment. Yeji smirks as she sees your expression but you quickly frown at her.

“I’m out with Yeji for lunch right now, why?” You ask him, smiling softly.

“Can I pick you up when you're done? I’ve got a surprise for you~” Jungkook’s honey voice rings through the phone as you laugh, imagining his expression at the moment.

“Okay sure, I’ll be done in about an hour, I’ll send you my location then,” You laugh as you reply, Yeji is excitedly staring at you as you end the call.

“Oh my gosh tell me what he said, tell me now!” She demands as she shakes your arm, you sigh at her behaviour.

“Chill, he just told me he had a surprise for me and wanted to pick me up, that’s all,” You say, but what you say doesn’t translate to how you feel. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you hold back a smile, but Yeji doesn’t need to know that.

Yeji continues to babble on about Jeon Jungkook the whole time you and her walked around the mall, you choose to put up with it, too excited about the said boy who was picking you up soon.

—————————————————————————

You and Yeji wait at the mall’s pick up point, you look out for Jungkook’s black Mercedes, but you don’t see it anywhere.

Suddenly, a Harley Davidson swerves into the pick up point, and both you and Yeji gasp when you see who is under the helmet.

Jeon Fucking Jungkook.

And he has a proud grin wiped across his face.

“You’re crazy!” You run up to him as you slap his arm, he winces dramatically at the impact but you know he’s simply playing with you.

“What? Don’t like it?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow at you

“It looks hot but there’s no way I’m riding this thing all the way home.” You stand your ground, “There’s no seatbelt! I swear the moment you go past a certain speed I’ll be flying off!” You slightly whine as Jungkook looks at you in amusement.

He also mumbles a “cute” under his breath, but you don’t catch it.

“If you hold on to me tight I won’t let you fall off, I promise sweetheart,” He laughs as he winks at you, your ears now turning a deep red at the sudden pet name.

You can only tsk at him as you shoo Yeji away, half forgetting that she was still standing there cooing at the interaction between the two of you.

After saying your goodbyes to Yeji, you turn around back to Jungkook, who’s currently holding out a helmet for you.

And when you attempt to take the helmet to put it on, Jungkook moves it away from your grabbing hands.

“Ah-ah let me do it,” He says, placing the helmet over your head after swiping your hair out of your face.

Your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest you’re slightly afraid Jungkook can hear your organ that is currently about to explode.

To make matters worse, when he puts on a windbreaker on you that is way too big, he zips up the zipper for you and taps your chin affectionately.

He’s playing with your feelings too much.

———————————————————————————

When you finally reach your apartment, you hurriedly get off the vehicle which you now are terrified of, considering Jungkook had teased you by suddenly increasing the speed of the motorcycle.

But you also don’t miss how he immediately grabs onto your arm to support you as you climb off his bike.

Jungkook doesn’t know how much he affects you, that’s for sure.

He takes off the windbreaker and helmet for you of course, nearly sending your poor heart into a heart attack by how fast it was beating.

You and Jungkook enter your apartment, and you plop yourself on the couch, tired out from spending the whole morning with your friend shopping and eating and dealing with her nonsense from babbling about you and Jungkook non stop.

“Are you that tired from being so scared on my bike?” Jungkook taunts you as he smirks at your form.

“No, and I’m never riding with you again, that was terrifying!” You whine as Jungkook raises his eyebrow at you in amusement.

He now shifts to tower over you, standing at where you feet are from sitting on the couch.

“You seemed to enjoy holding onto me though,” Jungkook slowly approaches you, accessing the situation to see if you were on the same page as him.

You choke on your saliva at his sudden statement, cheeks turning horribly red.

To make matters worse, Jungkook leans down, his lips grazing your ears as he whispers, “Wouldn’t you like me to hold you too? Like this?”

And before you know it, Jungkook manhandles you into his lap.

What

The

Fuck.

You don’t bother saying anything at this point, all that would have come out of your mouth would be stutters anyways.

There's this sudden burst of courage coming from you, you lean down and connect your lips with his, feeling the cold metal of his lip piercing touch your lips.

And reality hits you the moment you do so, but before you can pull away, Jungkook grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck, pulling you back to kiss him again.

He prods his tongue into your mouth as you let him, now. your panting into the kiss as he makes out with you.

You can feel Jungkook smirk against your lips as you let out a whimper and a gasp when he presses your hips down onto his lap.

And for the rest of the night Jungkook and you are all over each other, you both exhausted after how hard you two were going, but you slept comfortably in each other’s embrace.

You would definitely have some explaining to do to a lot of your friends, especially Yeji…

—————————————————————-

When everyone found out about the new relationship, chaos broke out. Yeji was frantically cooing and proclaiming how she knew it, and the rest of Jungkook's friends could not get both of your names out of their mouths.

But Jungkook proudly showed you off wherever he went, he had set a picture of you and him on a picnic date as his wallpaper, and his whole instagram page was filled with pictures of you.

In the end, both of you realised that your feelings towards each other were strong and genuine, Jungkook often teased you for not confessing your feelings earlier, but you would joke back about it too, now unaffected by the past.

Your boyfriend was the sweetest ever, Jungkook always made it a point to send you everywhere, to buy you flowers, and to shower you with affection.

After a year of dating, Jungkook had asked you to move into his apartment, and to say you cried was an understatement. The poor boy thought you burst into tears out of negative feelings, but when you hugged him ever so tightly and chanting “yes”s into his chest as you soaked his hoodie with tears, Jungkook couldn’t have been more happy.

[whatifitwasgttho]

LOVINGLY

Alejandro being flirty and fawning over Rhaine <3 he has no shame hehe

“Did you sleep well, my little dear?” Alejandro eased, gently placing a teacup beside Rhaine’s bed, currently situated on the giant's windowsill. His voice was soft, an early-morning whisper that shook the human's entire core. He seemed so genuine; his words of comfort always felt trustworthy.

 

Yet, Rhaine was far too stubborn. Nodding slightly, he stared at the slight sliver in the wood below. “You don’t need to be so hospitable with me. I attacked you, didn’t I?”

 

The giant paused momentarily before crouching down, making it impossible for the monster hunter to look anywhere else. He was so big in comparison, in a way that made Rhaine feel sort of insignificant. Powerless, even. The giant made no advancements to grab the human; he just looked at him with those eyes. The eyes that Rhaine couldn’t decipher, despite how adoring they seemed.

 

“You’ve already apologized for that, haven’t you~?” He finally cooed, maintaining his feathery tone. “I promised I’d never harm you, didn’t I?”

 

The smile Alejandro wore sent a shiver down his spine, letting out a surprised squeak when Cherufe’s thumb made contact with Rhaine’s back. Even if he was clothed, he couldn’t help but feel exposed to the gentle contact. The careful, tender pressure of Alejandro beginning to trail his thumb along the humans’ backside made his breath hitch and heat pinken his cheeks. 

 

“See~?” He said it, dragging out the word. He was being so… Kind. How could a monster be treating Rhaine so gently when his family’s brutal fate was sealed by one? It didn’t make any sense. Alejandro, for that matter, made no sense. Everything he was taught as a monster hunter shattered the more he interacted with the giant that could easily tear him apart. “I wouldn’t ever hurt you. I know how to be gentle, sweetheart.”

 

A week ago, Rhaine would have scolded himself for even thinking of trusting Alejandro. A week ago, he had just woken up from collapsing exhaustion to meet his gaze with the creature he’d attacked earlier in that month. He’d been in the mansion for a long time; this might’ve been his third week. From “Intruder” to "Guest,"  it was all Alejandro’s doing.

 

He eased slightly, much to Alejandro's joy. He could feel Cherufe’s smile grow the more Rhaine relaxed. He wasn’t giving any teasing compliments today, and Rhaine almost missed them. It was easier to forgive himself for being nervous over a flirty comment than gentle attention. One was warranted.  The other was a personal problem. 

 

The giant pulled his hand away. “I got carried away, my darling.” He flushed, a subtle tremble in his lip. “I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I? That wasn’t my intent.”

 

“No.” Rhaine almost replied a little too fast, covering his mouth with a hand. Alejandro couldn’t help but giggle a little, relief deep in his heart. He loved humankind, even if they viewed him as a bloodthirsty monster. Rhaine was giving Alejandro a chance, so who was he to judge? He didn’t see his past actions as unwarranted. Humans tend to be scared of things more powerful than they are, and Alejandro checks all those boxes. Even if they had become more acquainted, Alejandro could still tell the little human was afraid of him.

 

“You seem less wary of me.” Alejandro commented, pridefully, it was a big accomplishment for the giant. He wasn’t well accustomed to human interaction, and the only human resident in the house, Crowley, didn’t really count. He always hung around Lynn, his clearly adoptive brother, or Sumire, which shocked even Alejandro at first. Rhaine was terrified of Sumire, and the kitsune wasn’t exactly the 'reassuring type’ of house representative.

 

“...” Rhaine pursed his lips, patting some dust off of his shirt. “Is that so?” 

 

He didn’t really know if he was less wary or even less horrified. Again, Alejandro was a strange anomaly that his colleagues believed to be impossible. Simply put, a kindhearted monster was supposed to be impossible.

 

He couldn’t help but think about the young exorcist who stumbled into the guild hall, claiming she’d almost been killed by demons. Someone so young is doing something so dangerous. Rhaine couldn’t say much; he was in the same situation. Her village had been ransacked, and she survived to be a lesson for a young demon. The story seemed traumatic, yet she didn’t spare any horrific detail. 

 

What immediately lost the belief of his colleagues wasn’t the insane experience. It was the fact that she wouldn’t stop mentioning that the young demon had saved her. At that point, nobody believed her anymore, nor could the girl validate it. After she had healed, she left, and at that time, Rhaine also felt the trauma caused her to make things up. 

 

But what if she didn’t make it up? What if she was telling the truth?

 

Alejandro’s smooth voice broke Rhaine’s train of thought. “Of course. It's nice to see. Since I know you’re… Shyer of the other residents.”

Despite how toned down that phrase was, sugar-coating just how terrified the human was, he appreciated the Cherufe’s dedication to not break Rhaine’s pride. Alejandro knew how embarrassed the monster hunter was already, having to rely on somebody you’re meant to kill.

 

“Yeah, that..” Rhaine muttered, trying to clear his head. With every little word the giant spoke, the warm wind ruffled Rhaine’s hair, speckling his arms and legs with goosebumps. Whatever tea Alejandro was drinking, it was definitely a good one.

 

The giant sat up and plucked up the empty teacup. "Would you like me to run a bath for you, sweetheart~?" Alejandro relaxed, his flirty disposition returning. The sentiment was not playful at its core, but the Cherufe had a way with words that the monster hunter couldn’t understand. Rhaine could already feel his cheeks burning up.

 

"Ah, if it's not too much trouble." The little monster hunter replied, tucking a mess of hair behind his ears. Alejandro’s petting definitely didn’t help with that issue. If Rhaine had his wits about him, he would have declined such a dangerous setting. But, honestly, he might benefit from a little relaxation. 

 

Furthermore, Alejandro, no matter how much he would like to oppose it, was a saint. Affectionate, cordial, and pleasant. He seemed to have an adoration for humans, and he made it extremely obvious. Being doted on and fawned over wasn't so terrible, given that Rhaine knew he was out of harm's way as long as the giant was nearby.

 

"Really? I figured my little human would refuse me.” He crooned, his lips curving into a swooning smile. Alejandro had to return the cup to the kitchen anyhow, and he didn't need Red or Kyo lecturing him about filthy dishes. Regardless, the Cherufe liked to keep things neat. It made his room appear safer and more pleasant, something Alejandro appreciated.

 

Rhaine was stumped for words. It seemed like every time Rhaine had gained enough courage to face the giant normally and with confidence, Alejandro would say something embarrassingly sweet or unexpected, and he'd have to start anew. 

 

Alejandro was full of surprises today, despite the fact that he was typically charming anyway.  Rhaine felt his pulse halt when the Cherufe leaned in, his lips mere inches from the human's minuscule form. 

 

If he had time, he would have screamed. Unfortunately, all of his protesting had been locked up within the confines of his mind, which was presently blaring warning signs. Is this it? Is he finally turning on me? If anything, something deep and wicked within Rhaine desired to be right about Alejandro. If he were a bloodthirsty beast, the monster hunter's entire job and lifestyle would be justified.

 

The giant let out a soothing hum with a rich, honey-toned voice, sliding his fingertip under Rhaine's little arm and tilting his finger to prop up his hand. He brushed his plush lips against the small, shaking pale skin—an action that only made Rhaine feel more flustered.

 

Rhaine was horrified—all for nothing. He kissed my hand. He was welcoming Rhaine in his own unique way, as if he were some sort of prince. His lips covered up to about his shoulder, the contact delicate and careful—despite how much of his body was being kissed. Alejandro clearly underestimated his own size. It was the thought that counted. 

 

"Thank you, my sweet thing." He mused, drawing away with an intimate whisper. "For letting me take care of you."

[lanas-delight]

the one that got away.

♫ rec: when i was your man by bruno mars

✰ an enhypen scenario || word count: around 2k, w/ fem-presenting!reader, heeseung, & sunghoon

✰ description — years after an anniversary dinner gone wrong, heeseung finds himself singing at your wedding as a favor to you and your new husband, even if that meant he’d have to bury his feelings and his regrets from the past.

✰ warnings — angst. literally just a lot of angst.

✰ note — inspired by the off my face cover by heeseung (and A LOT of kdramas....). 🤍 enjoy !

(why didnt i change the warnings good god IGNORE THE OG WARNINGS ITS FIXED NOW I FORGOT TO CHANGE IT WHEN I COPIED THIS FORMAT FROM MY OTHER DRAFT OMLLL)

The sun had fallen in the early evening. The sky was dark, though plastered with stars. It was a day in mid-July, a clear day after a week's worth of rainy days, and the air felt so clear, the breeze so warm but soft. It was a day that would begin your new life, and relive in your memories every day for the rest of your life. You knew that too well.

In a white tent surrounded by a meadow of sunflowers, lights all around, lighting up the grounds as the wedding march echoed from the grand piano, everyone was standing, watching as you, the bride, walked down the aisle, hooked arms with another’s arm, as you approached your fiancé, soon-to-be husband, Sunghoon. His furrowed brows raised at the sight, you in a beautiful white dress, lace at every edge of the dress, your hands delicately shown off bare, your ring finger empty only for a few more moments. Sunghoon gazed at you, admired every piece of you, curving his lips into a smile. A whisper, “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” comes from his mouth for only you to hear. Your cheeks heated up, just like they did on your first date, when he said a cheesy pick up line to make you laugh, which it did, but you felt your cheeks heat up, like you were blushing, too. He noticed it quick.

The priest started to speak, everyone took their seats once again. It went quiet, only the soft echo of crickets in the far distance behind the strong voice of the priest’s. He goes on to welcome the guests and start the speech to where Y/N and Sunghoon would repeat his words and then kiss to confirm their marriage to one another. They had said their vows privately that morning, backs facing each other on a wide bench by the water. It was beautiful, and it respected the tradition of not seeing each other before the wedding. It was your idea, and Sunghoon tried his best to not sneak a glance but he knew you looked so beautiful.

You had this day planned out since you were six, the first time you took one of the pillow sheets and put it on your head like a veil, prancing around the house like a happy bride. You picked out your ideal dress through boredom on a late night in middle school, chose what your bouquet would like in after a trip to a community garden. You had met the most perfect man, had the perfect life, your perfect wedding, but there was something missing.

In the crowd, in the middle of the third row on the left side, sat Heeseung, his hands knotted together in his lap as he watched you kiss him. His face was pale, his eyes wide but inside, he felt his heart shatter and all the little pieces fell to his stomach. There was a part of him that knew he had no reason to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it.

He wasn’t supposed to be there. He only went because you asked, as a favor. He was a singer, a very good one, and the original singer you had hired came down with the flu last minute so you called him in a panic as a last resort. He said yes, which surprised you, but you were thankful. You gave him a list of songs that the original singer had made for their performance, and Heeseung told you he’d be there and that was the end of it. Now, at the wedding, you had forgotten he was to attend at all. You felt his stare, amongst the other eyes glued to you from all around the room, but his was distant, yet it tore you apart little by little.

After the kiss, everyone rose from their seats and clapped, cheering for you and Sunghoon, except Heeseung. He didn’t stand with the others, but once he did, he turned and scooted through the other people in the row so he could get ready for his performance at the reception.

If he was asked about how he felt, not that he ever would be, but if he was, he would say that it took everything in him to stay for the reception and to sing in front of everyone—old friends, some faces he didn’t recognize, and the family he was supposed to be apart of. It was his fault, everyone in that room knew it, claiming more than Heeseung did, but that wasn’t true. He relives his nightmare everyday, seeing you with another man, happier without him.

You and Sunghoon had gone off to change into more comfortable, though still formal outfits, with Sunghoon wearing a lighter colored suit, a loose tie and one open button at the top. Meanwhile, you looked like a diamond, white dress that fell to just above your knees, maybe of silk and satin, oh it looked wonderful on you. It was the dress Heeseung had picked out for you years ago, but you had forgotten that. It was now the dress that you and Sunghoon would have your first dance in. Nothing Heeseung ever did for you mattered anymore, maybe it never once did.

Everyone had taken their seats at their tables, drinking champagne and waiting for the speeches to start. Heeseung sat at the stage, his face low to keep hopefully no attention on him whatsoever. You and Sunghoon sat at this long table, with the maid of honor, best man, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen all on either side of them. The best man started first with his speech, his name was something with a “J,” an English name, but his accent was no American. He was apparently dating the maid of honor—who started her speech directly after the best man’s—which made Heeseung smile a bit because he had met the maid of honor plenty of times before, when he was with you. She used to be voluntarily lonely, never wanting to date because she could never find the one. But it seemed she did. They have a son, last he heard. He was happy for her, even though he knew that she hated him for everything that happened with you.

Sunghoon’s speech was next, and it was absolutely beautiful. Poetic, if you will. He spoke nothing but beauty and love of you, every word a new meaning for you, describing every perfect you behold. It made Heeseung want to fall apart right at the spot. He promised himself he wouldn’t let himself fall down this hole again, that he’d move on and fall out of love with you, but that could never happen. He was stuck on you. There wasn’t a single reason to him that made him not love you, or even consider the possibility of not loving you. You were his moon, his star, his every part of him, but you didn’t love him. You haven’t loved him for a long time. You weren't his, and he wasn't yours.

Then, it was time. Sunghoon and you walked to the middle of the dance floor, holding each other’s hands and preparing to dance as Heeseung stood up and approached the microphone stand. He glanced back at the pianist behind him who nodded at him before starting to play the song, Off My Face by Justin Bieber. Their song. But it wasn’t theirs anymore. He was sure that it never was.

Heeseung clears his throat quietly as he turns back to the microphone, one hand wrapped around it while the other fell to the stand, holding it gently, space between his palm and the pole. He starts to sing, every note and every line perfectly harmonized as the couple danced together.

Everyone watched the couple quietly, with eyes of admiration and small smiles, but only one ever looked at you and it was you. Sunghoon’s back faced Heeseung for a few moments as you and him swayed together, and that was when, just between the chorus and the verse, you had met eyes with the boy you once loved, the one singing at your wedding to another man.

Once the song was over, Heeseung stepped back to take a drink out of his water just as everyone else joined in on the dancer floor for another song, one more upbeat than the slow, love song he had just sung for the couple’s first dance. He sang another song, then another, and a couple more before his set was done and he grabbed his stuff and headed out of the reception tent. He headed to the parking lot just a hundred feet away but just before he made it there, his name was called and his heart stopped for a second. It was you.

“Heeseung, wait,” you caught up to him, holding your heels in your hands so you wouldn’t break them or twist your ankles trying to catch him before he left. “You’re leaving?”

Heeseung quickly looked over to the tents then back to you. “Yeah, I, uh, finished my set.”

You reached your hand out to him, “No, you should stay. Enjoy it,” you gave him a smile, “Might be the only wedding you’ll attend,” it was a harmless joke, but Heeseung took it differently.

“Are you saying I won’t get married?” His voice sounded hurt, but stern at the same time. He was trying to stand his ground, while dying on the inside.

“What? No, I— I was joking,” You lowered your hand, “What’s wrong?”

But Heeseung raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” He scoffed, “You asked me to sing at your wedding, of all things, of all people, you asked me to come here and relive everything that happened.”

You were confused, “Relive? You mean I would have to relive it? You broke my heart, Heeseung. You were never going to marry me. We had no future—”

“Did I say that?”

“Say what?”

“Did I say I would never marry you?” Heeseung repeated, “Did I ever say we had no future?”

You stepped back, “Well no but you never did anything that proved otherwise.”

But Heeseung shook his head and rubbed his face, trying to stay calm as you continued on.

“You never told me you would marry me, you never even asked about our future or even talked about it. You and I were together for three years and there was nothing you did that gave me any hope at all for us.”

Heeseung clicked his tongue, pushing his hair back, “God, Y/N, are you really that oblivious?”

You furrowed your brows, “What?”

“I was going to propose to you that night.”

Seven years ago, you and Heeseung met at your work—a cafe at the time—because that morning, he was craving a frappe and he knew that the cafe you just so happen to work at made the best coffee. You were his barista, and he fell in love with you the moment he saw you. He left his number on a napkin and you waited a day to call because you didn’t want to seem desperate, but also that you didn’t want to see him again either. On the first date, so memorable, you read out your favorite quotes from your favorite books, which he asked for because he knew you liked to read. Over a handful of dates and a million talks, you and him fell for each other—hard. He was all who you wanted, for three years, he was the boy you wanted to marry. He was your endgame, or you wanted him to be it.

For your three year anniversary dinner, he had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant, bought your favorite flowers, and dressed in your favorite suit of his. You wore his favorite dress, a white, short dress that fell just above your knees. You two headed to the restaurant around six, seated around six-thirty. It was good at first, he opened the car door for you, held the restaurant’s door open for you, pulled the seat back and pushed it in for you. He did what he always did. But for months, you wished for more. You had been wanting to hint for him to do something more, to take the next step in the relationship, but it was never the right time to talk about it. But instead, you dropped hints. For a year now, every day, you’ve dropped some kind of hint, and only realized that morning that it had been a year, and there was nothing. No conversations about the future, not even a poke at it. Nothing. You had enough.

During appetizers, you broke the silence, which was only there because he was eating and you were sipping on your wine, with a simple, but cold statement—“I don’t think this is going anywhere.”

Heeseung, confused and taken aback, almost spit out his food. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about us, Hee. You’ve done the same thing over and over again, for the last three years, and you’ve never even given the thought of asking me to marry you.”

“Y/N—”

“And I’ve dropped hints, every single day since our two year anniversary—a year of this cycle, I can’t,” You shook your head, “I had your mother talk with you about proposing, I had your brother talk to you endlessly about his own wife. God, I even had a fake email about wedding rings sent to you by my friends so you’d finally ask me!” You abruptly stood up from your seat, everyone in the room was staring at you and him. You sighed. “I can’t wait around anymore for you.”

Heeseung stared at you, tears slowly forming in his eyes, those bambi eyes of his, “Y/N . . .”

You shook your head, “It’s over, Heeseung.” And you grabbed your coat and left the restaurant. He sat there, completely still. Everyone stared for another few moments out of pity before turning back to their own dinners. Heeseung slowly took out the box from his pocket and set it on the table, opening it and looking at the ring he had bought months ago, waiting for this exact day to propose to you and to make you his bride. But he was too late. He was just a day too late.

“I took you to your favorite restaurant, asked you to wear my favorite dress—which you’re wearing for him tonight, ironic enough!—and I wore your favorite suit. I took you there and I ordered your favorite foods, your wine, everything. I had it all planned out. I was going to tell you how much I loved you after we ate the appetizers,” Heeseung declared to you then, a choking sob in his throat, “I was going to propose to you minutes after you decided we were over. I noticed every hint and I planned it all, from the beginning. But I was too late. Right?”

You had started to cry, “Heeseung . . .”

He shook his head, “I have never stopped loving you, since the day I met you. Not even when you ruined me, when I cried for months on end, for the humiliation, the heartache, I have never stopped loving you. Until tonight,” he turned, "Goodnight, Y/N."

“No, Heeseung, please,” you went towards him, grabbing his arm, “Please,” implying you wanted a second chance, just a few yards from your newly wedded husband. Heeseung knew he didn't love you anymore. Tonight was his closure. The regret, the miserableness, the mourning of what could've been—it was finally over.

“You remember that quote you told me? On our first date?” Heeseung stared at you, coldly, “Maybe if you were the moon, I could’ve loved you the same,” he then scoffed, “It had always been about us, huh?”

You shook your head, “Hee, please—”

“No, Y/N.” Heeseung took his arm out of your grasp, stepping back from you, “Congrats on your marriage,” and he walked away from you, leaving you to fall to your knees on the grass, crying to yourself as he got into his car and left. You got up a few moments later and returned to the wedding.

You never told Sunghoon what happened, claimed you fell on the way back to the tents after you had gone out to thank Heeseung for coming since he was leaving so abruptly, and Sunghoon, being the kind person he was, didn't question any of it. He helped you get cleaned up and danced with you until it was time to head off to your honeymoon. But Heeseung never left your mind.

Months went by, then years, and Sunghoon never knew what you had done that night, begging Heeseung for another chance, that you would've thrown everything you had for the boy you broke. He never knew.

On the night of Christmas Eve, the one following your eleventh wedding anniversary, the kids were asleep in their rooms while you and Sunghoon put out the presents from "Santa." One girl, and two boys. You didn't think you'd want kids, let alone three of them, but you loved and cherished your kids entirely. Your oldest was ten, middle was seven, and the youngest was three. You had gotten them toys, clothes, etc., but that didn't matter. It was when you seemed off, like you did every Christmas, every Thanksgiving, every holiday. Sunghoon finally asked about it, and that's when you told him.

You told him about Heeseung, what he said to you, how you feel about him, and the absolute and miserable regret you had for letting him go. Sunghoon didn't say anything for a while. He just stared at you blankly, not sure how to respond or react, so he didn't. He just sat down on the couch and covered his face with his hands. You tried to sit with him but he scooted away before turning to you, telling you that he should've known. You reassured you loved him now, but that wasn't enough. You both knew it wasn't enough.

Divorce followed shortly after, joint custody where the kids will spend every other week with either parent. Sunghoon was cordial about it all, which was good for you, you guessed, but you didn't want a divorce. You loved Sunghoon, but not the way you should've all these years. He deserved better, and you wish you could've gave him what he deserved, but at the end of the day, you didn't love him. You loved Heeseung.

You searched Heeseung up the moment it came to mind, thinking you could go back to him as your last resort—just like before—but to your unfortunate surprise, Heeseung was married. On the night of your wedding, Heeseung drove to the bar to straighten out his thoughts over a few drinks. There, he met his future wife who sat beside him and actually bought him a drink because he was looking at her a lot but not actually making a move. They married the next year, and have a son around your oldest's age. He looks at her the way he used to look at you. He didn't love you, and hadn't for a long time. You lost him, and that was never going to change. There was nothing you could do to get him back, to make things right, to fix your marriage, your family, to get closure. Alone, you were, but you sought out to get better.

You started therapy, and eventually, convinced Sunghoon to go to couple's counseling with you. A year or so passed, you and Sunghoon decided to give it another try. You wanted that happy ending, and you worked for it. You loved Sunghoon, more than ever, never to lose that love, because he was your husband, the love of your life, the father of your children. Sunghoon was who you wanted to love for eternity, not Heeseung. You didn't love him anymore. You finally moved on, just as he had.

Because he wasn't yours, and you weren't his.

end.

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

a/n—i'm gonna be completely honest.. i was watching a lot of kdramas when i thought of this shit, but i hope you guys enjoyed it anyways! thank you for reading <33

[katelynnwrites]

i can do it with a broken heart | laura freigang

warnings: angst with no happy ending

word count: 831

summary: you're determined to fake it 'til you make it, even with a broken heart. also known as your the reader's perspective of down bad

a/n: the third installation of my 'the anthology' blurbs series

you can feel laura’s gaze on you, from across the locker room.

a few short weeks ago, you would have blushed and teasingly told her that it’s rude to stare.

now, it makes your heart clench so you plaster a large smile on your face and turn to look at tanja, starting an intentionally cheerful conversation.

it is impossibly hard for you to ignore the blonde, especially when her eyes are on you again, this time in the club as you and your teammates celebrate the club’s win.

in stilettos, you have a drink in hand, a pretty sequined dress on and your makeup is done to perfection.

she’s sitting alone, at a table by the side of the bar and you can practically read her mind. you know her well enough for that.

‘she’s having the time of her life.’

well you can show her lies.

you can show up to trainings on time. you can attend every team bonding with a bright expression. you can do it all. even if it’s killing you inside.

because you’re a real tough kid. you can handle your shit.

after all they say you gotta fake it ‘til you make it. and you will.

so the one thing on your mind, repeating over and over as you push through each and every day is ‘lights, camera, bitch smile.’

even when you wanna die, you will do it.

your ex said she would love you all her life.

you believed her. you still do because you see the dark circles she has. she’s clearly devastated and barely holding herself together.

and you know it is all your fault for breaking up with her.

but you had to. had to because you love her so much. you trust her excessively and before you fall any harder for her, you needed to stop yourself.

it would have hurt too much when you landed and you know that if you allowed laura to love you the way she wanted any longer, there would be no coming back from that kind of pain.

so for your own sake, you had to leave her. even though it gives you overwhelming guilt to break her heart.

but you can grin like you’re winning and you can hit all your marks.

you’re playing better than ever because you know you are good. you know you’re good because you can do it, even with a broken heart.

you cry a lot now that you have left the striker but you are still so productive that one could consider it an art.

really, it’s only through the extensive uses of subtle makeup, face masks, cooling eye packs and the odd frozen metal teaspoon that no one has noticed it yet.

most of your relationship with laura was spent staying over in her apartment but there were nights that were spent in yours.

more than a few if the way you keep finding her things in your drawers is anything to go by.

first it was a old penn state sweatshirt. the next, one of her retro frankfurt jerseys.

now it’s her favourite pair of jeans.

you choke on your tears when you find it among your own clothes.

she’d worn them to your first date.

laura might keep looking at you but she avoids you like the plague otherwise. she doesn’t want to walk near your cubby in the locker room or be in the same training group as you.

she must hate you and you can’t blame her.

it is part of the reason why you cannot bear to return any of her things to her. they are the last tangible memories you have left of her, crucial evidence that for a brief time, you had the love of your life.

you feel like you’re drowning in your grief now but you can hold your breath.

because you’re a real tough kid. you can handle your shit. there is no reason to drag the german woman back into it, if she would even deign to give you the time of day.

so breaking down, you’ll hit the floor. all the pieces of you shattering as the fans chant, ‘more!’.

you might be depressed and you might be struggling but you will be damned if you’re not doing your best.

you will show up at trainings and team bondings on time, with a happy grin fixed on your face. you will only post the most positive and staged content on your social medias and you will not let any of your teammates or most importantly laura herself, see just how not okay you are.

‘lights, camera, bitch smile.’ you think once again.

even when you wanna die, you’re doing good. you know you’re good because you’re miserable and nobody even knows.

you swore that you would fake it ‘til you make it and you’re doing it.

it’s your new job and you are not going to let anyone try to come for it.

[lvrhughes]

Can't Sleep Without You | N. Hischier

pairing: Nico Hischier x gn!reader (I believe)

word count: 2k

warnings: none?

summary: After you and Nico break you can’t sleep, til you show up at his place after a night out

not my gif!

“I’m done! We’re done! We cannot do this anymore, there’s too many fights, we’re barely together anymore.”

The words were haunting, being yelled at you by the man you thought you’d marry. Two weeks, it had been two weeks since the breakup, the worst two weeks of your life. You couldn’t sleep, you could barely eat, your friends were being ghosted, and yet, when the devils games would appear on your tv, he looked fine. 

It broke your heart a little more every time you would see pictures or videos of him, smiling and happy, while you were barely living. Why did he deserve to be happy now? Why did he get to not mourn the death of their relationship?

Yet behind the screens, he was as bad as you. The team tried endlessly to get him to come celebrate the win, but he’d never, choosing to stay in. trying to sleep away all the pain he caused, he wished he’d held on, wished he tried to work everything out, instead of just leaving. 

He’d stalk your friends on social media, seeing if you’d been with them at all, for two weeks, nothing. It was like you didn’t exist on social media, but then the third week, alone in his apartment, scrolling through instagram, he saw you again. Smiling, dancing, having a good time. All while he wallowed in his room, alone, his team out celebrating. He tried to see where you were, seemingly the same bar the team had gone to. 

When the notification of your best friend went live, he never clicked anything so fast, the shaky camera pointed at you when he joined, jumping around, dancing, he could see his team in the back, watching Dawson walk up to you. The music was too loud to hear anything else, but he could tell it wasn’t a completely innocent sentence when a blush covered your cheeks. Jealousy filled him quickly, he knew he had no right but he couldn’t not. So he decided if you were going to move on he was too, he changed into something more appropriate for going out and left. The bar was just down the street from him, only a couple minute walk. He made it there fast, with ease, slipping in to find his team. 

“NICO!” Jack was the first to see him and share his excitement at seeing the captain. That made everyone’s head turn, smiling at him, some even running to hug him when they spotted him. When his entrance settled down, he saw Dawson sitting with you, talking, flirting, he couldn’t tell the difference with the jealousy that filled him.

He could faintly hear your laugh over the excruciatingly loud music, seeing your head fall back. To him you were still the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen, it pained him to see you happy with his teammate. He was mesmerized staring at you until you felt his eyes on you, turning the catch him staring. He could see the way the joy, happiness, fell from your eyes at the sight of him. His heart shattered at how your eyes fell when you saw him, making him want to turn out and leave, never to be seen again, shamed for what he did. 

He saw Dawson say something to you, it was quiet, more whisper, then moved his arm around your waist, leading you to your friends. The tears filled your eyes quickly when they caught sight of Nico, his hair falling perfectly just like you’d remembered, his eyes shining in the dim light. Seeing him through all the effort you’d put into trying to move on out the window, seeing him made you need him almost more than you ever had. The sleepless night, the inability to eat feelings returning. 

Dawson held you tight against him, bringing you back to your friends. Raising his hand to wipe away your tears, his touch was gentle, almost enough to make you cry more. 

“I’m going to take her home, okay?” Dawson yelled to your friends when he got close enough, grabbing your bag from the table they had. They nodded, seeing Nico in the distance, the tears on your face, connecting the dots, they knew you shouldn’t be here anymore. 

When you turned around to try and find Nico one last time, he was gone. He was practically running home, fighting the urge to get you back, tell you how he regrets everything, fighting tears while he ran. He made it home in about a minute, slamming his door opened and closed fast, collapsing on his bed. 

Dawson had led you out to his car, asking for your address.

“No.” That elicited a very confused look out of Dawson.

“What?”

“Bring me to Nico’s please.” your voice was barely above a whisper, almost ashamed to ask. He just nodded, starting his car and pulling out of the parking lot, he knew Nico could get you home if needed. 

It was a short ride to Nico's, taking only about three minutes, you got out quickly, thanking Dawson for the night. He nodded, repeating your thanks, letting you run inside. You couldn’t bother waiting for the elevator, running up all the stairs instead. 

When you made it to his door, slightly out of breath from the stupid number of stairs, you froze for a minute partially to catch your breath, practically to shake away the nerves. You stood there for at least two minutes, the tiredness truly catching up to you now. You knocked on his door, three times, just like you used to. 

He appeared at the door a few seconds later, his hair messy and his clothes trussled. Clearly just woken, you felt a bit bad, but then again, he broke your heart. 

“Y/n?” He sounded so confused and looked almost more. It was enough to make you have to hide a giggle when he asked that. 

“Hi.” 

“Why are you here? You should be at home, asleep.”

That was less of a question, more of an annoyed statement. It got on your nerves quickly, who was he to refuse to talk? He had to have gotten home only ten minutes ago, he couldn’t have been that asleep. 

“Okay, you know I was trying to be nice. You broke me. I just needed to know why? The minute I finally started moving on, you showed up. You show up and ruin it all again. I finally went out for the first time since you broke up with me and then you had to come and find me. Why? It’s not fair I was finally getting somewhere, I thought tonight maybe I’ll finally get a good night's sleep.”  you slowly trailed off at the end your words becoming quieter from your original outburst. 

“A good night's sleep?”

“I haven’t slept in weeks, Nico.”

“You need to sleep.”

“I can’t!”

He looked confused again with your answer. Of course, he could sleep fine, but you got the shit-end of the break-up. You couldn’t do anything but Nico was playing fine and sleeping well. That’s what you thought, he was not as perfect as you thought, he could sleep though. 

“What do you mean you can’t sleep?”

“I haven’t been able to sleep since you broke up with me.” the words were mumbled and quiet, he barely heard them but they broke his heart.

“Baby-”

“No you can’t do this! I came to get closure! Not to fall for you again.”

“Come inside, please.” You shook your head, not trying to fall back into him. He didn’t take that as an answer, gently grabbing you and pulling you in. melting into his arms when he pulled you further into him to close the door.

“You need to get some sleep, baby.” he was quiet with his words, seeing the way your eyes were closed, leaning into him. 

"Please, hold me. I can't sleep without you anymore." 

He agreed, leading you to his room, just like before. He did pull you off him to hand you one of his t-shirts to sleep in, then turning to allow you to change. When you were done you fell onto his bed, curling into your regular spot, waiting for him to join you. His heart soared at the sight he’d been missing for weeks. He slid under the covers with you, letting you cuddle beside him, fitting snug against him. 

In the morning you woke up without Nico beside you, immediately causing you to panic. What if this was a huge mistake? What if he just thought you were really desperate now? 

Slowly you got up, walking to his kitchen, where you assumed he’d be. He was leaning against his counter, sipping a cup of coffee. 

“I made you a cup.” he said, pointing towards the steaming cup on the counter. You walked over to it quickly, taking a sip. The exact way you liked it, he’d remembered. 

“Thank you.” 

He just nodded, continuing to sip his coffee. It made the room tense and you very anxious. 

“Do you regret letting me sleep here last night?” The words made Nico choke on his coffee, not prepared for the question yet. 

When he stopped coughing, you rubbed his back to help calm him, he answered.

“No, not at all. That’s the best sleep I've had in weeks, since we broke up.”

The words shocked you, taking them in for a minute. He was quick to continue when you didn’t say anything.

“I regret breaking us up, I regret letting you leave that day. I should’ve tried harder”. 

“Nico, baby, it’s okay-”

“It’s not okay, I hurt you, so much. I was stupid i hurt both of us, you should cuss me out and never come back, but you came back. I swear if you’ll take me back, I’ll never hurt you again. I miss you so much, God I miss everything about you. Your kisses, your hugs, the way you hold me in your sleep.” there were tears in his eyes by the end of his rant, begging to take him back.

“Neeks, I love you.” you wiped away his tears. “Of course I’ll take you back babes.”

He was ecstatic when he heard the words, practically dropping his coffee to pick you up, spinning you around, peppering you with kisses. Your laughter filled the room, music to Nico’s ears. 

“God, I’ve missed that sound.” he mumbled, placing you on the ground and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. His scruff tickling your skins, making you giggle again, making him nuzzle more into you.

“Neeks!” you laughed, pulling away from him. He followed you back, leaning with you. 

The rest of the day was spent in bed together, catching up on the missed sleep, cuddles, and kisses. Sleeping the day away, only waking when there was knocking on Nico’s door. Nico slowly got up, complaining while he walked to the door, his slow pace giving you time to follow him. When he opened it, the boys waiting at the door were quick to push  they’re way in. gasping and grinning when they either saw or walked into you, like Jack. 

“What are you idiots doing here?” Nico’s voice was unimpressed, annoyed at his team’s unwanted arrival. 

“You wouldn’t answer your phone, you were scaring us!” Jack explained, making point of the fact Nico didn’t have his phone on. 

“Yeah probably because I was sleeping!”

“Sleeping with Y/N!” The boys were quick to put two and two together to get that conclusion and simultaneously start chirping him. 

“Shut up!” Nico finally yelled, bringing you to him to cover your ears before. 

“Now, if you’d leave so we can go back to sleep,” he shooed everyone to the door.

“We were going to go to a movie, did you want to come?” Dawson finally asked, revealing why they had been there in the first place.

Nico looked at you, you just shrugged your shoulders, letting Nico choose. 

“No, thanks though, now please leave.”

Nico was quick to close the door in their faces before turning back to you, picking you up and bringing you back to his room. He threw you onto his bed, sliding beside you right after, cuddling with you again, luring you back to sleep. 

[apompkwrites]

primordial attachment || freminet (ft. lyney and lynette)

masterlist characters: freminet, lyney, lynette (all platonic) genre: angst contains: spoilers for chapter iv - act i: "prelude of blancheur and noirceur", short fic compared to rest of mine ;-; , mentions of sickness/vomiting summary: the call of the ocean is much more sickening than you remember. notes: omg the rare pompk genshin writing. anyway, the siblings have captured my heart since they came out and I'm only slightly peeved i got zhongli on like 20 pulls to get freminet BUT-- might make this a series? thought of calling it "siblings of the hearth" but idk. ++finished this before i finished lyney's story quest and uhhh rainbow roses is all i have to say :]

you and freminet were practically inseparable. much like lyney and lynette, you and freminet made up the second duo in your adoptive family. the two of you were alike in many ways, from your introverted self-doubt to the love of fairytales.

the one thing that separated you two was your opinions on diving. as much as you wanted to love the ocean again, you couldn't bring yourself to. you cherished the sea when freminet first brought you there, pointing out to the endless blue water that sparkled under the sun. he took you by the end, a much more gentle touch than your mother had the day she dropped the two of you off, before diving down.

he held your hand the entire time the two of you swam, tightening when an angelic sea hare blew past you in the water or when a particularly strong current threatened to pull you two apart.

that day, you saw your brother's bright smile again. the last time you saw that was the day before your mother dropped you two off at the orphanage. and when freminet smiled, the brightest one you had seen in ages, you smiled back.

the next day, you learned you also had a strange affinity for the sea like your brother. the two of you knew the ocean like the back of your hands. and so, when you started feeling sick after every diving escapade, you got worried.

despite the worry, the bubbling in your stomach, and the nausea that filled your system, you told no one. you went on with your life, slowly pulling back from the water. pulling back from the diving days.

pulling back from freminet.

every time he came back from a dive, you felt sick. it had to be the water clinging onto his suit and thus, you often locked yourself away in the workshop knowing freminet wouldn't go in lest he damage the trinkets he was working on.

the first two weeks of avoidance were relatively easy. but on the dawn of the third week, you couldn't stand it. those teary eyes freminet stared at you with upon refusing another diving escape broke your heart, shattering it as if you and freminet had used your compatible visions to cast freeze on a small puddle of water.

"...okay," was all freminet whispered after your refusal, slinking off to grab his diving gear. the second that door closed behind him, you collapsed to your knees, tears streaming down your face as you silently cried.

"(name)? what's wrong?" and not even a minute passed before you heard lyney behind you. he rushed over and kneeled beside you, joined only a second later by lynette who kneeled on the other side.

lynette placed a hand delicately on your back while lyney took your hands in his, squeezing your cold hands with his warm palms.

"what happened? why are you crying?" lyney asked again, waiting patiently for your tears to cease.

"...nothing," you managed to hiccup, shaking your head. "just... it's nothing, i promise..."

and you knew that lie wouldn't pass. both lyney and lynette, despite being adopted, knew you as if you were their own blood relative. they cared deeply for you and freminet and nothing would escape their sharp eyes.

"...then, how about we have some tea and snacks?" lynette proposes, pulling you up to your feet.

"i think that's a wonderful idea," lyney chimes in, his eyes still lingering on you in worry. you merely nod in response, doing your best to wipe your tears away with your sleeve.

maybe it'd be best if you got to the bottom of your sickness...

in the early morning hours, before the sun even peeked over the horizon, you were up and at your old diving spot. one single smell of the sea made you sick to your stomach. it took every ounce of your strength not to vomit right then and there.

despite the sickness, you reached down towards the water. and the second your fingertips broke the surface--

"ow--!" you yelped in pain, the soft sound of sizzling emitting from your skin. you stared at your shaky hand, the very tips of your fingers turning to water.

drip

drip

drip

three droplets of water fell from your fingertip, landing on the pier with a sound that roared in your ears.

in the end, the people will all be dissolved into the waters, and only the hydro archon will remain...

"the prophecy..." those words escaped your lips without a second thought. you scrambled away from the dock, staring wide-eyed out at the never-ending sea.

and all you could think of was the moment your body would join it.

[honeysuckleharringtons]

just steve harrington being so selfless and not taking time for himself melting into a puddle if the reader or you or y/n (idk which one to put 💀) just asked him if he was okay a lot (I do that 24/7, this is purely self indulgent) and the many times he said yeah and the one time he said no :(

i was originally gonna do a full fic style blurb on this but words have been very hard for me lately so i'm just gonna do a text post about this! hope you don't mind 🫶🏻

warnings: reader is sorta implied to be fem!reader, allusions to steve being treated not so well by his parents as a kid, part of this does mention some upside down violence, tiny mention of food, no use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!

send me steve thoughts | ask box

I imagine the first time it happens is probably in gym class when you're younger.

You accidentally hit him right in his pretty lil face with a dodgeball ☹️

And Steve being Steve insists he's okay because "I get hit all the time in basketball and football. I've broken bones and nearly busted my teeth out. A lil dodgeball never hurt anyone."

But you can tell he's hurt.

Whether it's him that's hurt or his bruised ego, you can't really tell.

But some part of him was clearly hurt.

more under the cut!

The second time it happens is when you get paired together for a study group during senior year.

Steve struggles with a lot of subjects, but math is probably his worst.

And it's not like he doesn't want to get better, his parents just never sat down at the table and helped him with anything growing up, and when his nannies told his dad about his report cards, it didn't end very well ☹️

But math is the one he's always had the hardest time with.

So when the two of you get paired to study for the calculus final, you can almost immediately tell he's struggling to understand the questions on the example sheet.

At one point, he just kinda places his head in his hands and groans into his palms.

And you're just kinda like, "Hey, you okay?"

And again, Steve is never one to admit defeat.

"I'll be fine. Can you just help me with question four?"

Surprisingly though, after just a few nights of studying together, you become sort of reluctant allies.

He surprisingly excelled in human biology, which you did not. So, the two of you helped each other where you could.

And then it happened a third time, during the summer after you'd graduated.

Steve had had a rather unsuccessful time trying to flirt with the ladies that often came into Scoops Ahoy.

This day had been no different.

He'd really tried his hardest to get the beautiful ginger in front of you to go with him to the movies on Friday.

But she and her friends just moved along, double-scoop ice cream cones in hand, back to their shopping.

"You good?" you asked, nearly on the verge of laughing, as you stepped up to the counter.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he answered sarcastically. "Just a little bruise to my ego. That was definitely the first time any lady has turned down this beautiful face."

Part of you, though, was hurting. Hurting that, even though you were right in front of him, he'd never bothered to look at you that way.

The fourth time it happened, you really started to question everything you thought you knew about Steve.

Somehow, despite being back in town for a total of two days, you'd gotten roped into something to do with some evil dude named Vecna.

And for once, after everything you'd learned since arriving back in Hawkins for spring break, Steve was the one asking if you were okay.

Also for once, one of you was answering the question truthfully.

However, in the week that followed after, even in the midst of alternate dimensions and weird mutations of bats, you'd learned that Steve might have been causing his previous lady problems on purpose.

And when you saw the painful expression he sported as Nancy Wheeler was reunited with her boyfriend, your own heart shattered all over again.

Still, if there was one thing you were, it was a good friend to Steve.

So, you pulled him aside and asked those three little words.

Steve simply ran a hand through his disheveled hair with a slow nod.

But you could tell he was nearly at the point of breaking.

And the time when he finally answered truthfully, he really did break.

You'd drove with him to the hospital to check up on Max Mayfield, who somehow he'd became friends with despite the age difference.

The room was dead silent, other than the annoying buzzing coming from the lights.

You finally gave him a good once-over as he sat at Max's bedside—his messy hair, his pale face with newly acquired purple spots under his eyes, a small cut under his lip.

And for the first time since you'd known Steve, you watched as tears formed in his eyes.

You were quick to rush over to the other side of the bed, your hand splaying across his back and rubbing soft, small circles against his frame.

"Steve, I know this is a silly question to ask, because we both know the real answer, but seriously, are you okay?"

He knew he couldn't hide. Not any longer. So, he simply let the walls come down, croaking out a small, "No," through his flood of tears.

After crying into your shoulder and allowing himself to finally let go of everything he'd been holding in for all those years, he just simply held you.

Finally, after explaining everything—from the reason why he never told you about the Upside Down, to why he'd used Nancy and all those girls as a distraction from the person he really wanted—he just grabbed your face and kissed you. A sweet and tender kiss, not a desperate or lustful kiss, but a longing one—one he'd waited much too long to give you.

And somehow, even in the midst of all the bad stuff, even in the midst of Steve finally breaking, the two of you could finally find a way to maybe, just maybe, be okay for once. ❤️‍🩹

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

[luvrxbunny]

my love

Pairing: Post-outbreak!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel tells you that he loves you for the first time.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, brief mentions of oral and fingering,  piv, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.4k

A/N: This one is kinda short and like half flashback and the ending feels off but enjoy? *distant sobbing* 

It happened the first time you had slept with him. The night was long awaited by you because Joel had insisted on taking you on three dates first. The first one is chaste, solely for getting to know each other. You had pointed out that you already knew him but he said it didn't matter. The second one is when he finally kissed you. The two weeks that went by between dates had been torture to you, all your advances being softly denied by Joel. On that date, the third date is when Joel had, at long last, accepted your invitation into your house. 

There was a lot of foreplay, Joel had made you cum with his fingers and his mouth before even taking his pants off. Even once he did take them off he ran back to his car to grab a condom, insisting on it. It was heaven once he finally started fucking into you, it took you a little longer to cum, having lost some sensitivity from your two other orgasms but Joel was able to keep up. He never made you even start to think that you were taking too long, he was perfect and came at the same time as you. You had watched his eyes shut lightly, still watching you as he groaned out your name, his hips bucked softly into you. He huffed out a small laugh as he got off of you, he removed the condom quickly and pulled his underwear back up. “Was that okay, baby?”

“Fuck yeah, it was!” You rolled over and placed your arm on his chest, to rest your chin on it. “Very worth the wait.” He chuckled and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “Would… would you agree?” You asked him nervously.

“Oh yeah, honey. You know I would.” He said with a laugh. You smiled at his answers and relaxed into him, you nuzzled your face into his chest and brought your leg up over his thighs. Once it was in the position you wanted, you noticed something press against your knee.

It confused you at first, you assumed it was just his stomach or something. But then you noticed how tense he was, and that he was holding his breath You lifted your head off of his chest to look at his face just to find him already watching you. His eyes gave him away, unnecessarily guarded and wider than normal.

You moved your leg away, your eyes still watching his face as you removed the blanket. You almost stopped breathing when you saw him, still hard in his briefs. You backed away, removing all contact with him. You started curling in on yourself, suddenly aware of how naked you were. Joel's "orgasm" played in your head over and over, the thought that you couldn't even make him cum once after he made you cum three times embarrassed you to no end. The idea that instead of continuing he just gave up and faked it, had your heart shattering inside your chest. Your arms crossed protectively over your chest as you looked around nervously. “What the fuck?” You asked with an incredulous laugh. 

He started breathing again, fast as he sat up. “Honey.” He spoke softly, his hands reached out to your arm but you backed away. You pulled the sheets up to your neck and scooted away, suddenly self-conscious. “No, c’mon, baby it’s not-” He sighed defeatedly and dropped his hands back down to the bed. “It’s not like that. I’m just-” He sighed again and drew back, his hands folded in his lap, his eyes were cast downward. “There’s just some things a little uh… wrong with me.” He chuckled sadly.

You waited for him to continue talking but he just shook his head down at his lap. “Joel, you need to explain yourself now.” His head snapped up at you like he forgot you were there. “Yeah I- No, I know that…” He dropped his head and sighed to himself. “I’m just workin’ up the courage.”

You sat there in silence for a little while before he turned to you and started talking. 

“I’m... unable to cum uh- sometimes. It’s not… uncommon for me. I need you to know that it has absolutely nothin’, and I mean nothin’ to do with you, or my feelings for you. If this-” He gestured to his general crotch area 

“If this was based on how I feel about you I would’ve cum 5 times by now but-” He took a deep breath and shook his head at himself. “Unfortunately, it’s not. I get… a little too in my head, especially in this situation. I just wanna make sure you’re feeling good and- and comfortable and-” He took another breath. 

You could tell he was getting flustered, he started rambling a bit, getting off track. “It just- I end up unable to… finish. It doesn’t matter how good it may feel or how fucking... badly I want to” His gaze drifted up from his lap to your lower stomach, even though it was covered by the sheet.   

You scooted closer to him and took his hand in yours to comfort him as he finished talking. “It happens when I get stressed too… I’m not stressed right now.” He added quickly. “I’m just in my head a little, that’s all.”

You had comforted him the rest of the night but you know he still felt bad, you know because you guys did nothing sexual for the next three weeks after.

It’s been seven months now and Joel is very comfortable with sexual activities. He’s fucked you countless times since but you can count on one hand how many times he’s actually cum. You try not to let it eat you up. Joel always reassures you, he reminds you that it's okay, that he doesn’t really need to cum anymore, that it has nothing to do with you and he just wants to make you feel good. It doesn’t stop the guilt though, because you can’t ignore the fact that you’ve never actually made him cum. The few times he’s cum were all times where he was the one touching himself and you were around or talking him through it. That little fact makes it very hard to believe it has nothing to do with you.  

This morning Joel had woken up a little horny. You woke up to him hovering over you, kissing along your neck, whispering little praises into your ear as he ran his hands up and down your body. 

Over an hour and three orgasms later Joel is still fucking into you with the same rigor he started with. 

“Fuck! Joel keep- right there.” Your voice dies as you moan out Joel’s name. He smiles down at you and grips your hips tighter, pulling them off the bed to meet his. “You’re feeling good, honey?”

You reach a hand up to paw at his chest, raking your nails down and leaving red streaks in their wake. “Feeling so fucking good, Joel.” Your thighs are shaking from where they rest on his hips, he brings his thumb up to your clit, trying to get you to cum around him again.

His hand is immediately pushed away by you with a loud whine. “T-too sensitive, baby, but I’m close.” Your hand reaches up at Joel and he leans down for you. You wrap your hand behind his neck and pull his body into you. “I love you so much, Joel. You feel so good- making me feel so-” You cut yourself off with a moan and kiss him. 

You’ve said ‘I love you’ to Joel before. He didn’t say it back and you adamantly assure him that he doesn't need to. You understand that loving is hard for him, with all the people he’s loved and lost, you can see why it would be hard for him to love again. You just needed him to know how you felt about him, you don’t need anything in return.

He leans down to bury himself in your neck, his arm coming up behind your head to cradle it. He starts stroking your hair softly as you mumble in his ear. “You’re so amazing, Joel, so perfect. Always making me feel so good, so cared for.” You moan out his name as he hits your G-spot perfectly. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair, pulling him out of your neck and forcing him to your lips. Joel pulls apart when you clench down on him, pushing a gasp from his lips.

“You fuck me so well, Joel. I can’t even make myself cum as hard as you can.” Your brain has shut off by now, three orgasms and one approaching finally taking their toll on you. You’re rambling off every thought that pops into your head and Joel loves it. He still has his face in front of yours as he moans in response to everything you say. 

“I love you s’much, Joel. I don’t care about what anyone says, you’re an angel. S-so good..” Your sentence morphs into a groan as your pussy pulses around Joel for the fourth time this morning. 

“Holy fuck, darlin’. You’re killin’ me.” His voice is strained when it comes out, hot and raspy against your face, ending in a groan. His cock is throbbing inside you as you squeeze and cream around him. “Keep talking to me, baby. Gimme one more and I’ll stop.”

You moan painfully at the thought of cumming again but the idea slowly becomes more and more appealing as he keeps thrusting into you. “Okay. Okay, Joel. Whatever you want, whatever you need.” Your hands desperately scratch at his back, earning more moans from his as he buries his face in your neck. He groans desperately and his hips speed up as he soaks in everything you tell him. 

“Treat me so well, baby. You’re so amazing, I love you so much.” You mutter into his hair as his skin slaps against yours, creating a clapping noise in the room along with the sounds of your soaked pussy but all you can hear are Joel’s moans. His hips are pistoning into you, your whole body moving with the force of them. “Joel fuck k- keep going- oh fuck. Right there, my love. Holy shit, you’re incredible.”

Joel’s hips lose rhythm at ‘my love’ but quickly fall back into his previous pace. He's groaning out your name into your ear as you moan and whimper against him. He hears your moans speed up, knowing that you’re getting close to your fifth high of the morning.

He can feel the pride swell in his chest at the thought that he had brought you to five orgasms in one morning. He feels something flood him, taking over his bloodstream and filling his veins. He feels his cock twitch and his heart begins to race.

He knows you felt him twitch by the way your moans pick up. They’re only getting higher in pitch and more frantic. Your legs are twitching back to life and pulling him in with what little strength they have left. You’re muttering into his ear, something like a whimper that resembles a plea. 

“I love you so much, baby. Fuck- I’m gonna cum so hard, love.” Joel groans into your ear.

Your reaction to his words is visceral. You note the shake in his voice and unleash a screaming moan as you cum around him. Your whole body tenses as your eyes roll back into your head. Your legs lock around him and hold him in place as he twitches inside of you. He’s moaning into your neck as you cum around him and you feel his muscles start to tense. His hips thrust shallowly and curtly, and he can feel his balls throbbing as you whine. He turns his head to whisper to you, “I love you so fuckin’ much” and erupts.

It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed. His head comes up from your neck to press a desperate kiss to your lips while he moans. You can feel wetness touch your eyelids and cheek, where his eyes rest as he presses his face into yours. His cock is spurting inside you, filling you to the brim with his pent-up cum. Joel is trying to keep quiet, he’s biting his lip and groaning with each pulse of his cock. You bring a hand from behind his head to place it on his face, your thumb on his bottom lip and pulling it out from between his teeth. The action has his eyes rolling back and a distraught moan releasing from his throat. His hips stutter against yours again as a new wave of cum empties inside you with a painful groan. 

You watch his face contort in pleasure as he overflows your pussy with little teardrops on his eyelashes. If you could cum again, you would be. You can feel his cum start to drip out of you, down your ass, and onto the sheets, joining the puddle of your cum that already resides there. You pull his face to yours and place a kiss on the corner of his open mouth while he whines out for you. You kiss down his neck as his hips twitch against yours, his cock is drained, weakly twitching inside you but he can’t bring himself to pull out yet.

One of your hands is running up and down his back while the other is scratching lightly on his scalp to calm him. He’s taking deep, shaky breaths as his arms begin to shake. He lowers himself to you slowly, placing all his weight on you like a blanket. You giggle happily and kiss his forehead softly. You both stay like that for a little bit, waiting for his hips to stop stuttering into yours.

“You okay?” You ask gently, still rubbing his back. His breathing still hasn’t evened out, he gasps gently at the sound of your voice and nods against you. You’ve never seen him like this, all fucked out… You love it. “Good, baby. You wanna roll over so I can clean up?”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion before he rolls over to his side of the bed, pulling you with him. You giggle at the sudden change in position, now on top of him. His side is relatively untouched by either of your cum. You instantly spot a flaw in this solution and speak up. “Okay, but I still have cum on me, sweetheart.” He’s breathless at the nickname and frowning at the rest of your words. 

“Just stay.” His voice is gravelly when he speaks, rough from all his moans and groans. It relaxes your whole body and you bury your face in his neck, giving into him way too easily. “Thank you… I love you.” He says the last part like a whisper and a smile forces its way onto his face when he hears your small gasp in response. 

“I love you too, Joel.” You whisper back at him before you both drift to sleep, satisfied with the morning, with the day... satisfied with your lives, as long as you're together.  

Thank you so much for reading!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 8 - The Cab)

5K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: Unable to be apart from you, Din decides to be more honest.

Warnings: Angst and pining again, but the return of fluff at the end, some insecure!Din, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, sweetheart, etc.)

A/N: Just so you don’t think my imagination is that cheesy, the waiter with the folded napkin actually happened to me (The Woman was Too Stunned to Speak)😂 Thank you for your patience as I posted some other pieces before this one and as always for reading! Hope everyone is having a good 2024 so far!

Series Masterlist

Your friends are more than a little surprised to see you show up teary eyed at brunch the next day; like you, they had expected your third date with Din would end with earth shattering orgasms, not a heart shattering goodbye.

You cry while you tell them about the date and how it ended.  They’re as confused as you have been about what happened; you mumble, “He just said it wasn’t a good fit,” hanging your head.

Rory, predictably, goes straight to revenge, “Do we hate him?  Should we key his car?”

Lifting your head because you know she’s only 37% kidding, you say softly, “No. He was kind about it.  And he’s allowed, you know? He’s allowed to call it quits after three dates.  We really only knew each other for two weeks.”

You cross your arms on the table and lay your head down. You're a jumble of raw emotions right now: confusion over the sudden change in Din's feelings, distress over having possibly done something to precipitate that change, but mainly sadness over the loss of what could have been. You realize now that you had harboured high hopes for what a potential future with Din might be like, and those hopes had been the source of some most welcomed feelings of excitement and optimism over the past few weeks - to have them dashed, so unexpectedly too, has left you crushed and at a bit of a loss. Had you done something wrong? You think you must have, and that thought has you biting back tears of disappointment in yourself.

Lala strokes your hair as you sniffle quietly, “…I didn’t even get to fuck him.” You bury your face in your arms with a whine.  It feels a little better to make jokes.

“Aw babe, I’m so sorry.  We all know how much you wanted to fuck him.  We wanted you to fuck him too,” Bea sympathetically rubs your back.

“You know… it’s probably good you didn’t sleep with him, babe.  Like, it would have been really shitty for him to sleep with you and then break up with you after,” Katie muses out loud.

Propping yourself up on your chin, you lament, “He wouldn’t have done that.  He’s too sweet.”

“Is now a good time to mention that Mark is still single?”

“JEN!!!!”, the other girls yell.  But you laugh, a small laugh but it’s genuine.

“What?! I asked if it was a good time? Sheesh!! Plus it made her laugh, okay?”

You lay your head back down on your arms, and listen to your friends chatter.  They know you well enough to know that you don’t want to keep talking about it, and that you’ll feel the most comfort from just being in their supportive presence.

Lala and Bea make sure to periodically let you know they’re there with a gentle rub of your back or arm until the food arrives, and when you dig into your eggs you feel slightly better.

Just over a month passes before you see Din again.

During that same time, Din sees you twice: once intentionally and a second by accident.

The first time is the day after your last date.  He goes to the restaurant where he knows you and your friends have your standing brunch date, hoping you would seek the comfort of your friends after an upsetting night.  He doesn’t go in, but does peer in through the window to look for you; even though your back is to him, he can tell it’s you and moreover, he can tell you’re crying.  Din feels as if his heart has been ripped out of his chest, remembering your hurt and confused face from the night before.  As he watches you lay your head on the table and your friend stroke your hair lovingly, he fights the urge to burst into the restaurant and beg you to take him back.  He’s desperate to tell you it was all a mistake and that he can’t bear to be apart from you, but the voice in his head that wouldn’t quiet yesterday night is still there, telling him you’re better off without him and far away from what his world entails.  When he sees your food arrive, and that you’re in better enough spirits to eat, he leaves feeling assured that your friends will take good care of you, and, although it depresses him to think this, certain that soon he will be but a distant memory for you.

The second time Din sees you is three weeks later when he’s out for a run and he passes a park that seems to be hosting a big dog meet up.  Din quickly realizes that all the dogs are the same breed as Al and he stops to scan the crowd looking for you, but Al spot him first.  Tail wagging, Al separates from the group and jogs over to the edge of the park where Din is standing – excited and full of energy; Din leans over the fence and pets the exuberant pup, “Hey buddy!  Miss you so much.  You being a good boy?”  He scratches Al all over his head and neck, making sure to give him a few extra ear rubs that Din knows he likes. Din’s missed Al and is pleasantly surprised to see him, but his heart leaps at the realization that you must be nearby.  He spots you finally, talking with some dog people, and when he sees your lips say, Where’s Al? he gives a final pat to the dog, knowing that it won’t be long before you’re coming over.  Although Din tells Al to go back to you, the normally obedient dog is not budging, he stays with his tail wagging and now barking at Din excitedly.  Out of options, Din moves behind a nearby tree so not to be spotted when you inevitably notice where all the racket is coming from.  As he predicted, you come over to fetch Al, “What are you doing over here by yourself, silly boy?  Were there some squirrels?  Are you yelling at the squirrels?” you coo at the dog, who’s bouncing up and down, still barking.  You give Al a bunch of kisses, then lean over and whisper in his ear; happily, Al waits to trot by your side back to the group of other dogs while you give the area a quick look to see if you can ascertain what drew your dog over here in the first place.  And that’s when Din finally looks upon your face.  The picture of you and Al from the farmer’s market on his phone that Din’s been starting at over the past few weeks is nothing compared to the real thing.  Your smile is as warm and inviting as ever, and your eyes bright and full of glee; he knew he wasn’t over you, but he didn’t realize his heart could further break until the thought strikes him that you would never again look at him with an expression like that.  He waits until you’ve rejoined the group in the park before reluctantly resuming his jog and leaving you and Al behind once again.

“I’m stuffed,” you moan, holding your stomach.  Your friends are all doing some variation of the same gesture and nod in agreement having just finished a delicious birthday dinner for Katie at her favourite Italian restaurant.  Great food, even better drinks, and loving company – it was the perfect birthday celebration.  It’s a shame you’re all too full for cake or dessert.

“Can we postpone birthday dessert to brunch?” groans Katie.

That sounds like a fantastic idea, you can’t eat any more tonight, “You’re the birthday girl!  We can do anything you want," you grin.

“Maybe what she wants for her birthday is for you to go back in and get that waiter’s number? Didn’t you think the waiter was cute?” Jen says, purposefully avoiding Katie’s look of incredulousness.

He had been cute.  And he had folded a napkin into a rose and placed it next to your plate when he served you.  Then when you had joked that you weren’t the birthday girl, he had come back and with folded roses for all the girls.  Yes, it was super cheesy, but sweet.  And maybe, just maybe, you might have been tempted to give him a chance if it wasn’t for a certain curly haired, brown eyed boxer that you knew could be a hundred times sweeter, who you knew you would be comparing him to in every other way as well.  Even now, more than a month after you last saw Din, you didn’t think there was any actual competition.  You must have a far away look in your eyes, because Bea wraps her arms around you and looks at Jen, “What about Mark?  What would Mark say if he knew you were cheating on him with some waiter?” This snaps you back to the present with a giggle.  The girls all laugh and you give each other prolonged goodbye hugs and cheek kisses, before you leave them to catch a cab in the opposite direction.  Shouting love yous and promises to each message when you get home safe, you turn and head down the street and around the corner.

The neighbourhood you’re in is lively at this time of night, lined with busy restaurants and cafes that are finishing up last service, and a few clubs that are just getting their night started.  With all the activity and bright lights, you don’t have any qualms about be out by yourself, but you are finding yourself a bit cold so you hope to catch a cab sooner rather than later.  The dress you wore for dinner has long sleeves but is backless, which had been sufficiently warm earlier in the evening, but now that there’s a bite to the air, you’re starting to shiver a little.  You decide to wait on the curb right outside a club that seems fairly busy already, reasoning it’s probably a high traffic area or at least it will be easy to grab a taxi after it drops off clubgoers. 

You miscalculated.  Not a lot of cabs are going down this street tonight for some reason, and the two that you do spot with their lights on either don’t see you or are claimed by other people first.  You’re starting to get cold for real, hugging yourself and rubbing your arm with the hand that isn’t raised in the air.

“Allow me,” says a deep voice from behind you.  You turn to find Din standing close, with his arm already out to hail the next free cab that comes down the street.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.  You’re not sure where he came from, and are very surprised he’s there at all.  It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, but here he is handsome as ever.  He’s dressed in a sharp dark suit, his matching dress shirt neatly buttoned, but no tie – he looks so good.  His broad shoulders are stretching his suit jacket in all the right places, and the suit sleeves hug his muscular arms perfectly snug. This time when you shiver, you know it’s more than the crisp night air that’s giving you the chills.  Din looks down at you over the rim of his black framed glasses with a soft expression, and without a word, takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders; his free hand then slips under the front of the jacket and around your waist, settling on your lower back where your backless dress allows him to touch your cool, bare skin.  He murmurs, “It’s cold out,” before gently pulling you in towards him.  You’re close enough to smell him now – the scent of his cologne alone makes you press your thighs together a little; you place you hands gently on his hard chest before lightly trailing your fingers down and wrapping your arms around him. Feeling the hand on your back press you closer, you rest your cheek against his chest and close your eyes.  The two of you stand like this, comfortably holding each other in silence for a few minutes before a taxi pulls up.

Din reluctantly pulls away from you to open the back door of the cab; after helping you in, he opens the front passenger door to speak to the driver directly. He gives the driver your address, and then to your shock, pulls out his wallet and you see him take out several hundred-dollar bills and hand them to the driver, “Sir, it’s very important to me that this lady gets home safe, and I know I can count on you.  For your help, please keep anything over the meter as a tip, a thank you from me.”

The driver is similarly surprised, but takes in Din’s imposing figure and gives him a confident nod, “No problem, sir.  Consider it done.”

Din makes a point to look at the driver certificate, “Thank you, Carl,” patting the driver on the shoulder before closing the door.  He comes around the still open back seat door and crouches so you’re making eye contact with him from your seat.  “Thank you, Din.  You didn’t need to do that,” you say softly, but with a look of gratitude so he know you’re truly touched.  Din reaches in the cab to tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear, “Need to know you’re safe,” he says tenderly, letting his hand cradle your cheek.

He pauses for a moment, almost unsure, then asks, “Were you out here on a date?”

You don't know if there is any other intended meaning behind the question, but you give a little chuckle, “No, I was out for Katie’s birthday dinner; we went to Luigi’s.  Everyone else shared a cab over the bridge and I walked over here to catch a cab uptown.”  You’re not sure, but you think you see a flicker of relief flash across Din’s face.  “What about you?  You here to do some clubbing? This music seems really your style,” you tease.

Din laughs when at that exact moment, the door of the club opens and the loud cacophony of electronic beats spills out into the street.  You smile wide at Din and he’s elated; his hand still on your face, he softly strokes your cheek with his thumb as you smile at one another.  He’s about to answer with a quip of his own, when a loud voice from near the club doors calls his name, “Din!! Are you coming in or what?”

Din stills his hand and turns his head to give the person a nod. You move your head and peer around Din to see who he’s speaking to; you catch a brief glimpse of Vanessa, dressed up to the nines for the club, spinning around on her 4-inch heels and stomping back into the club.

Oh. You fold your hands in your lap and look down, fiddling with your fingers.  You’re starting to feel a bit stupid for imagining that there might still be a spark between you and Din.  It seems that you might not be out on a date, but of course he could be.

Din knows exactly what you’re thinking and is quick to correct you, “We’re not here together - I’m doing a security escort tonight.  Just making sure my old boss’ niece and her friends get in to the club safely; Vanessa's just part of the group.”

“You don’t owe me any explanations,” you shrug, defeated.

Din tips your face up gently, and says sadly, “What if I want to owe you an explanation?”

You bring both of your hands to his face and search his eyes, afraid you might be misunderstanding his words. “Din,” you whisper.  And then his lips meet yours. It’s as if he never stopped kissing you – his kiss is so warm and familiar, you hadn’t fully realized until this moment the extent of how much you missed it.  And him.

You’re both slow to break apart, looking deeply into the other’s eyes with longing.  Din speaks first, “Pretty bird, I’ve missed you so much.  I never should have walked away; I’ve thought of you every day since.”

You look at him softly, “I’ve missed you too.”

“I’m so sorry for leaving.  I can’t tell you how much I’ve regretted hurting you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Din pleads with something close to desperation in his eyes.

You pull him in by his collar and kiss him again, this time more intensely than before, your desire and neediness bubbling to the surface. As you thread your fingers through Din’s curls, he leans further into the cab, bracing one hand on the car seat and the other grabbing your upper thigh where the hem of your dress ends.  Where his hand touches your bare skin, you feel a warmth radiate and you gasp softly into Din’s mouth.  He takes this as permission to deepen your kisses, opening his mouth, his tongue begging to be let in.  Allowing him access, you moan softly a he licks into you.  Fuck. You had forgotten what a good kisser he was.  You pull away gently, still not sure what any of this means, and open your eyes to see Din looking at you like he used to, with adoration and hunger.  You have a million questions, and out of habit, you look over to the driver to ask if he minds giving you some more time before starting the fare. Unsurprisingly, Carl seems totally unbothered and committed to not paying attention to what’s happening in the backseat; the generous tip from Din having secured his patience and discretion.  Din is reading your thoughts: you deserve answers and all the time needed for those answers; he cups your face with his hands to redirect your attention back to him, “I should get back to work now, pretty bird.  But we’ll talk, okay?”  He hopes you can read the assurance he’s trying to convey with his eyes.  Nodding, you start to take off his jacket, but Din stops you, pulling it back over your shoulders, “Keep it, sweetheart.  It’s cold.”

“I’ll get it back to you,” you promise. Soon, I hope, your eyes plead.

Din understands the unspoken request, “I know you will.” He presses his lips to yours softly one last time as a promise of his own, “Let me know when you make it home safe, baby.”

Gently closing your door, Din knocks twice on the roof of the car to indicate to the driver that it’s time to depart.  You look out the window, and softly hold Din’s gaze as the cab drives away.

---

After you get home, you walk Al, check in with the group chat to make sure everyone made it home, then change out of your dinner clothes.  Washing off your make up, you send Din a quick text: 5 stars cab ride.  Thank you for making sure I get home safe.  You never deleted Din’s contact or the text conversation, and now as you scroll up through your old messages, you’re reminded of how easy and flirty your banter used to be.  You still don’t know what happened the night of Jimmy’s fight to change how Din felt about you and until you find out, despite tonight’s kisses and confessions, you can’t be sure that he feels the way you do, and this thought has your heart sinking a little.

After distractedly finishing a few odd tasks around the apartment and unsuccessfully picking up your book a few times, you decide to go to bed when your phone dings.

Pretty bird, are you still up? Has Al gone for his walk yet?

Al’s gone out already!

Do you think…he wants to go out again?

Your phone rings before you can respond; it’s Din, and you can’t help but smile when you answer, “Hello?  Din?”

“Hey pretty bird, do you think Al might be up for a second walk tonight?”

You look at your dog peacefully snoozing next to you on the couch, unawares, “Probably!  Are you off work soon?”

“I’m downstairs right now, if that’s okay.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken.  You ask for 5 minutes and use it to pull on some sweats and swap out your underwear for a sexy black lace set, the same set you had worn for Din the last time you had seen him.  Picking this particular set wasn’t intentional, but putting lingerie on to match your mood is; you don’t know what you’re expecting, but your desire for this man didn’t diminish during your time apart and you can’t help the warmth of want that’s been building in you since you saw him a few hours ago.

As you and Al walk through the front doors, your first thought is of how familiar and comfortable this feels; a late night dog walk together that you’ve looked forward to many times.  Your second thought is of just how goddamn hot Din is. His hair, longer than you remembered, had been slicked back a little for work, but now it’s a mussed up and looks soft and touchable again. You favourite pair of his glasses are comfortably perched on his distinct nose, one of your favourite features of his handsome profile.  His facial hair is a little scragglier than a month ago, but you like it – it makes his greys more distinct, the sight of which is making you a little weak in the knees.  You internally scold yourself to get it together so you don’t throw yourself at him when you get close enough.  Din’s smile for you is wide and genuine but with a hint of shyness.  However, for Al, Din’s squatting down, arms out wide, welcoming Al’s slobbery kisses and excited pawing. 

“Ok, Al, calm down,” you tell the dog, even though you yourself feel anything but calm.  You hand Din his jacket, which you brought down with you, “Guess you really wanted your jacket back, eh?”

Din takes it from you and puts it on in a smooth motion, “Thank you.  I do really want this jacket back.  I really missed this jacket. It’s the best and most perfect jacket. I’m lost without this jacket.”

You chuckle and pull him in by the lapels of said jacket for a kiss.  Slow and sweet, you press your lips to Din’s and breath in his scent as his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in gently.  The two of you stay like this, reveling in each other’s touch for a few minutes before moving apart, as if you both know things can’t progress further until you address what’s unsaid between you.  You walk hand in hand for about half a block in silence before you’re the one brave enough to broach the topic.

“Din,” you look at him with unsure eyes, “what happened? I thought everything was going so well.  Did something happen the night of Jimmy’s fight?  Did I do something wrong?  Did… your friends not like me?”

“Oh, pretty bird, god no,” Din stops walking, so he can face you.  He’s devastated that you might have thought this whole time that you were somehow at fault for his mistakes, although he should have known that your instinct would be to try and take accountability for when things went wrong.  He looks at your anxious face and hope he is showing the proper amount of sincerity with his expression and voice, “You didn’t do anything wrong, baby.  You could never.  You were sweet, and perfect, and funny, and smart, and everyone loved you.  I promise.  I… it was…you were so lovely – you are so lovely… and all I could see.. I- shit…”

You lead Din by the hand to a sidewalk bench so he can collect his thoughts.  When you’re both seated, Din sighs and takes a deep breath before he starts again, “I need to tell you something about me, pretty bird.” He’s nervous, his deepest insecurity about his relationship with you about to be spoken out loud, “I’m… not a good guy.” He shakes his head a little when he sees you’re about to protest, and presses on, “You know how I worked in personal security?  It wasn’t just body guarding work or escorting people’s nieces to clubs… I… hurt people.  And sometimes when I do that work again, I have to hurt people still.”

Your face is neutral as you take in Din’s words, but you don’t recoil from him or look like you want to run away, so he continues.

“The people that I worked for, that Paz and the rest of the guys… the Mandos, still work for… it’s really one person.  A family really.  The Fett family… I don’t know if you’ve ever heard anything… or read about them in the paper? Well…”

You shake your head a little; you haven’t but you think you know what Din is alluding to, and you’re getting a more complete picture of what Din meant when he said he came from a different “world”.  You can tell he has so much more to say, to explain, so you stay silent.

“…I’ve known them all my life.  All the Mandos have.  Boba, he’s the head of the family, he was like a second dad to me growing up, and one of my dad’s best friends.  I’ve known him and the family a long time… they’re not bad people, I swear, pretty bird.  But… they’re involved in some not so savoury businesses… the type of business that make protection and security… essential.  Which is where the Mandos come in… and where I came in.  Some of the people involved in these kinds of businesses… unsavoury is probably too kind of a word to describe them.  And those were the kind of people that were there at the fight that night.  They were all around and… baby, you were so lovely and perfect, and you had no idea the type of filth you were surrounded by.  I thought, how could I pull you down to that level?  Get you dirty like that?  Like, literally, you got bloodied.”  Din hangs his head.

“I felt so guilty dragging you into that world… so, I let you go.  You’re too good and sweet to be around people like that.  People like… me.”  Din can’t even look at you as he finishes.

To say you’re surprised by this confession is an understatement.  Never in a million years would you have guessed that Din walking away had been for your (perceived) benefit; you’re also not sure how to go about correcting him of some of the falsities that he’s convinced himself of, namely that you’re somehow too good to be in his world, but you think you have to address the most egregious one first.  Bringing the hand that Din isn’t cradling in his up to his face, you gently stroke his jaw with your thumb so he will meet your eye; you want, no need, him to hear you,

“How can you say you’re not a good guy, Din?  You’re the kindest guy, the most considerate guy.  The things you’ve done?  First, I want you to know, anything you tell me about that type of work or your family.  I will never tell anyone, okay?  Please know you can trust me.  Second, I don’t need to know any details and I am positive that anything you’ve done, you did out of necessity and never out of cruelty.  Do you know how I know that without knowing any of the particulars?  Because you are a good man.  You can harness so much strength and power, and yet, you choose to be so, so gentle; you approach everyone and everything with care – it’s evident in the way you treat me, Al, your friends and the way you speak of your dad, the community, the guys at the gym, even the Fett family.  You take care of people.  That’s who you are.”  You ask again, “How can you say you’re not a good guy?”  Tilting your head at Din, you search his eyes, willing him to understand how you feel, “I don’t know what you thought I would think of you, but nothing will change my mind – you’re selfless, loyal… a protector.”

Din looks into your eyes and finds the sincerity and kindness that he’s been missing from his life for the past month; how could you be so loving and kind to him after he had hurt you, made you cry?  The way you looked that night crying, was not one he would easily forget.  He vows to never make you cry like that again if he can help it; every other concern he had about bringing his world into your life has evaporated in this moment with your tender words.  He should have known you would be pragmatic, thoughtful and open-minded.  He should have trusted you to have been able to handle the truth; he feels like he owes you another apology.  Instead, he simply whispers thank you, before descending on you and kissing you fervently, urged by the want and urgency that has accumulated from having been away from you for so long.

This feels so right.  It feels perfect to have Din’s hands on you again.  To have his mouth on yours, his tongue trailing over your tongue, his teeth lightly nipping your bottom lip.  But you can’t assume he’s thinking or hoping for the same thing you are, not after last time.  You pull away gently, and look at Din with an expression he can’t quite read, something between pleading and uncertainty, “Din… is this for tonight only? It’s okay if it is, I just don’t want to assume I know what you want.”

Din tips your face to his so that there can be no possibility for misunderstanding, “Oh, pretty bird.  It can be, if that’s what you want.  But if you’ll give me a second chance, I’m yours.  I’m yours even if you don’t, if I’m being honest.”

That’s all you need to hear, and you launch yourself at Din, slamming into his body, practically laying across his lap as you attach your lips to his.  Kissing him over and over, unable to keep from smiling, you moan slightly when Din’s hands wander down to your backside, giving both cheeks a hard squeeze and not letting go, using his grip to pull you up into him.  He’s grinning now too, deepening his kisses, unable to keep his happiness from spilling over into your mouth. 

Climbing off of him, and slightly breathless as you stand, you reach your hand out to Din, “Do you want to come up?” Din places his hand in yours and gets up; towering over you, he looks down at your beaming face and can’t help but smile back, “I really, really do, pretty bird.”

[melkyt]

Been crying alot about the idea of the immortality surgery in the context of LawLu.

The vibes are immaculate for the angst xd

Say the side effect of the immortality surgery is that while Luffy exists forever, Law's soul is tied to his existence.

Say maybe Luffy's death was not some dramatic thing that happened in battle, no, he just used up the last of his life force by using the gears too often, and it presented itself as a disease sometime in his late twenties.

Law has gotten used to having him around, having a semblance of a family together, picking up orphan kids here and there. Luffy still goes on adventures and travels the world, but he always comes back.

Then he stops going out as he gets sick, on some days he can't even get out of bed.

Law hates watching the man he loves, the man who burns so brightly wither away. So despite his promise, Law can't do it. He does the surgery.

Luffy finds him in the garden, seemingly asleep, peaceful, and gone. His heart shatters and it takes weeks for him to recover, but eventually, he manages to keep going, as he has things to keep going for. Their children, his crew.

He does not know that he is immortal, and does not know what Law did until everyone starts dying around him.

Luffy slowly breaks as he loses everything, everyone he loves. It's when the last of his mortal friends dies, Zoro, who was determined to not go before Luffy, not to leave him alone.

That is when Luffy decides that he has had enough life. That he wants to be with everyone again. Brook once told him that immortality can be a curse. It's worse. Brook is still alive and they sometimes talk, the only thing that keeps Luffy's sanity together as the years pass and stop having any meaning.

He travels the world, looking for a way to break the curse, learning more than he has in years of adventure, still keeping his smile and finding joy but it gets harder, the more things seem to repeat. The world begins to feel small, and sometimes he still imagines Law or his crew being around. The hallucinations do not make life easier.

So when he sees a man who looks and sounds exactly like Law on the island where Law was once born. He brushes it off as another hallucination. "Can't get enough of me, huh Traffy? It's the third time this week" He sighs, running a finger over the rim of his glass.

The man just stares in something akin to shock. He blinks as if not quite believing his eyes.

Luffy tilts his head. The hallucinations usually have some witty rebuke. They don't just stare.

"Luffy?" The man's voice is shaky, he stumbles back, breath coming in quick huffs. "How did I..." Law grabs his head as a splitting headache brings memories with it.

It's Luffy's turn to stare in disbelief. It's been hundreds of years, he may come by the place once in awhile, this is the island where Law was born, its familiar, the little things that never change but he never expected to see the man again. "Don't joke like that" Voice low, a threat on his lips. "Traffy's dead"

"I, yes." The man's knuckles are white around his whiskey glass. "I was... I do... How am I here Luffy?

"If you're fake, I'm gonna kill you" Luffy gingerly approaches, poking the man on the arm. "My hallucinations usually don't feel like nothing"

"Hallucinations? Are there side effects to the surgery?" Law gets over some of his confusion, placing his hands on either side of Luffy's face, feeling his pulse. It beats like a drum, as it has since he awakened Nika. "Weird but normal for you"

Luffy chuckles "Only Traffy would go all doctor mode right now" he wraps both arms around Law, "I'm not letting you go this time." Now that's a promise he will not let either of them break, no matter what.

Luffy uses his willpower and gear 5 to keep Law alive out of determination and to spite whatever force tries to take him.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The fall of Reservoir

From the audio recording of Frin Yuel Retired Artark, Recipient of the Stone of Valor, Hero of the Battle of Reservoir Recordings restricted from public distribution by order of Central Command.

“I have been called many titles over my years of service, but there has been none more insulting to me than the “Hero of Reservoir”.

There was nothing heroic about that engagement; at least not from our side of the battle.

Yes, yes, I know; what madness do I speak against our glorious people to not call us all heroes on the field of battle. Hear this old soldier out and decide after if your judgment is as strong as you think.

We were half way through the first contact war with humanity when we stumbled upon their core world of Reservoir. It was a backwater colony planet that had just transitioned from a colony into a functioning world of their empire when our fleets darkened their skies.

By that time I had been in several intense battles with the humans, but this was the first time we were attacking a well-established metropolitan world of theirs. At best our early skirmishes had been in space or along resource worlds that had their mining operations established.

The orbital battle was over quickly. The human planet had no orbital defense platforms and only a small fleet was present which was quickly swept aside. No sooner had the last of the human ships been destroyed in low orbit above the world did the ground invasion begin.

I remember watching as the first and second wave of our infantry forces detached from the troop carriers and began their descent below the cloud cover. My war host was in the third wave so while we waited for deployment we watched the video feeds of the first and second.

It was not a smooth landing.

The moment they broke the cloud cover they were met with withering barrages of anti-aircraft fire from emplaced redoubts and mobile vehicles. Scores of dropships were violently ripped apart or had their engines damaged and spiraled out to the surface below. I can remember hearing troops in the latter calling out for help right up until the moment they impacted the ground and the feed went silent.

It is not easy to listen to your comrade’s die….. I can still hear them sometimes in my dreams. Even now after all these years I can close my eyes and listen to their tortured souls calling out to us again and again……

……….

Apologies; I got a bit side tracked there.

Eventually the second wave was able to carve out safe landing zones and signaled the third wave to deploy.

We launched with vengeance in our hearts and fire in our bellies. Our one purpose now to avenge our fallen friends and shatter whatever human fools had slayed them.

The humans for their part did not make our task easy. Over the span of several weeks we had to grind their resistance down meter by bloody meter, losing thousands of warriors with the capture of each one of their cities. Yet our resolve was unwavering and though our losses mounted the day finally came when I found myself standing outside the final human bastion of their world.

Even when cornered like vermin the humans refused to surrender. We shelled their city for days, reducing their towers of stone and metal to rubble and yet they only burrowed deeper and became that much harder to dislodge. Vehicles that went into the city were beset on all sides by craven hit and run attacks, while our scouts were ambushed and cut down by well concealed snipers. This went on for several days until our commander had finally had enough.

When the order finally came to storm the city a great war cry was let out from our warriors and we poured into the city. I wish I could say there was some battle plan or larger strategic picture we were following, but the reality was we were storming one building at a time before advancing to the next.

That is where I found my worthy foe.

Within the heart of sector G17 there were reports of a lone human soldier causing untold damage to our attack. I ignored the reports at first, but as the day progressed the reports continued to come in only far worse. Now they said the human soldier had slain a hundred warriors and still stood their ground. By the end of my fourth block cleared I was hearing that an entire cohort had been wiped out and now warriors were avoiding the area.

At this notion of fear spreading through the ranks of my brothers I was filled with a seething rage and made my way to sector G17 to confront this human champion myself. It was not hard to find them, as the trail of bodies led straight to them. As I followed the trail I realized that the reports had not exaggerated the casualty list; if anything they had underestimated the dead.

Standing at the entrance to a metal bunker of some sort stood the foe I sought. They wore power armor standard to their people but damaged in several places. The paint had long since been scorched away by ricochets, their once proud cloak torn in a dozen places and hanging limply from their waist; yet their rifle was still firmly clutched in their hands so tightly I wondered if even the gods themselves could pry it from their grasp.

While I approached the warrior I saw three of my fellow soldiers come forward and try to slay the human first. The first went down with deep hole in their chest where the human’s plasma shot had carved through them. The second warrior used this opportunity to close the distance with the human but with a swift backhand from the power gauntlet their neck was snapped and they collapsed to the ground. The third soldier made it close enough to land a blow against the human, adding to the collection of gashes already dotting the armor. Their combat blade dug deep between the leg joints and the human let out a cry of pain. The third soldier twisted the knife inside the joint, reveling in the victory to come. I watched as the human let their weapon fall from their hands and clasped the third warrior’s head between their mighty gauntlets. In a grueling and morbid motion the human crushed the third warrior’s skull like a grape and let the broken body fall to the ground.

The human stood motionless after the melee, which to my surprise had taken less than a minute to complete. They made to pick up their fallen weapon as they finally registered my presence but the blade wound had done more damage than they expected causing them to tumble to the ground in a loud bang.

I watched for a moment as they crawled towards it in an attempt to bring it to bear before I casually kicked it out of their reach. It was then that more of my warrior brethren began to flood into the area and saw me standing over the human that had done such horrendous damage to our forces. One by one they began chanting my name as if I had been the one to bring the foul beast low and called for me to end their life once and for all; but all I could focus on was the human before me.

Through their visor I saw the face of the human looking up at me. A thin red stream of blood ran from the corner of their mouth with specs of blood dotting the inside of the helmet from where they had coughed it.  Their eyes…….even though their body was broken and defeated their eyes never once showed a hint of remorse or pleading as they fixed me with a death glare. If it was possible I half imagine they were trying to kill me with their stare right there and then before I emptied my clip into their chest cavity.

I just stood there with my finger held down on the trigger as round after round of plasma energy burned into them while the surrounding soldiers cheered. The human died half way through the clip but I kept my fingers firmly on the trigger until every shot was emptied.

As you know after that I was given the title “Hero of Reservoir” for I had seemingly killed the human butcher all by myself. There were of course the video feeds from the warriors helmets that came before me that contradicted that sentiment but central command quickly quashed that notion; erasing or restricting what footage there was while fabricating their own that made me out to be the ‘Hero” after all. With the substantial losses they had taken claiming the planet they needed someone they could hoist up and show the homeworld to as a sign of admiration and prowess in our war against the humans.

Like I said before I never cared for the name. Not because it was based on a lie, but from what I discovered when I went to investigate the bunker the human soldier had been so ferociously defending.

It took several explosive charges to pop off the hinges but with a loud thunderous boom the door finally gave way and I led a war party inside. We had expected some sort of redoubt or military bunker and went in with our weapons firing on anything that moved; which was fortunate as the door led into a series of tunnels dotting the city filled with humans.

My fellow warriors were lost to the blood lust and carved their way through the humans as if they were made of paper while I stopped and examined the nearest fallen human.

They were a frail thing, not half the size of a normal human adult. I believe they were called “children” by their cultural standards and were designated as the youth of the species. The child lay huddled in a corner they had attempted to hide in when the breaching charges had gone off but were caught by the explosion nonetheless and died.

As I gently pulled on them to turn them around I saw that the child had been holding something tightly against their chest. When I saw what it was I recoiled and nearly fell over another dead human from my realization.

The child had been clutching a stuffed toy animal, not a side arm as his fellow warriors had believed.

With a grim realization I came to the conclusion that this was not a military bunker or the last vestiges of the human military lurking within the walls of these tunnels. They were human civilians who had been led into the depths of their city in the hopes they could survive the coming battle.

I tried to call off the attack into the lower levels but by then our warriors were lost to the haze of battle. By the end some three hundred human civilians were massacred in that bunker; their bodies sealed within a rocky tomb when we detonated charges to collapse the bunker complex.

That is why I hate being called a hero for that awful battle.  I am a pretender, a charlatan, a fraud; held up to justify the deaths on both sides as if a statue of me will someone make us forget what we had done.

The real hero of reservoir died by my hand, giving their life to defend the defenseless.