#not the same thing at all and it is a little weird that it’s so common

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon Noticed The Little Things

Simon noticed the little things.

Always had. Oversensitive to the details, the crumbs most people overlooked. He saw people, truly saw them. Heard them. Understood them. But no one had ever seen him back. He only knew what it felt like to observe, never to be observed.

Until you.

Until you handed him a pair of gloves on a random Wednesday, saying you noticed his were wearing thin. The exact same brand, same skeleton design, same size. Fit just right, snug over his hands— something he always struggled to find. A weird flutter settling in his stomach.

Until you got him a drink at the bar: no ice. Just the way he liked it. He’d never told you that, never mentioned how he hated when melted ice watered it down. You just knew. You just saw him.

Until you saved him a seat in the meeting room, the one facing the door. Knew he needed to see the exit, needed that small control over any space that eased him. Never asked why. Never judged. Just silently understood.

So Simon saw you, too.

That’s why he was standing in front of your door now, a bouquet of daisies in hand. Because he remembered the way your eyes had lit up on that mission, the way you plucked a few wild ones from the ground, bringing them to your nose with a happy little smile.

When you answered, he asked you on a date. And when you said yes, he took you to a Mexican restaurant. Because he saw the wrappers in your trash can from the busy days you opted for something fast.

And when you got back to your place that night, he knew exactly what to do to make you fall apart.

Watched the way your face twitched and turned when his fingers curled just right inside you, dragging against that spot that had your breath hitching. other hand working slow, deliberate circles against your clit, pushing you higher until your legs trembled from pleasure, your body melting under his touch.

Then he was shoving his cock inside you, his jeans long gone, his belt discarded somewhere on the floor. Each thrust deep, hitting every spot that made you gasp, made you cling to him, moaning his name until it came out all jumbled sounding like a foreign word.

By the third orgasm, you were wrecked, body pliant and shaking beneath him, and when he finally came, he wasted no time pulling you into his arms.

Tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear, pressed a slow, grounding kiss to your forehead.

And the next morning, he made you chocolate pancakes.

Because before he ever touched you, before he ever kissed you, fucked you, and made you his.

He saw you. And you saw him.

[matt-murdockk]

Time

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

words: 2.8k

summary: On their wedding night, (Y/n) disappears in Matt’s arms-blipped without warning. For five years, he mourns her, tormented by grief and hallucinations. When she returns, unchanged, he’s convinced she’s not real. (angst mostly with fluff ending)

warnings: angst, cussing, lack of proofreading rip, set in infinity war - endgame timeline (reader getting blipped, etc)

a/n: Listen, my boy Matt is the PERFECT practice for writing angst. I just like to put him in situations and watch him like he's in a fish tank and I'm outside tapping on the glass. This man absolutely cannot catch a break and while I am partially to blame (cause I'm writing it this time), just how Matt is written in general is in a way that it just makes sense to put him through shit. He is a walking amalgam of Catholic Guilt, adrenaline, and poor decision making and I love him so much. This one is a boatload of angst but I threw in some fluff in the ending because well, we deserve good things.

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The apartment door creaked open with the softest thud, and then her back hit it as Matt pressed her gently against the wood, lips grazing her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. He was smiling.

That rare, devastating smile he only wore when it was just them.

“You’re supposed to carry me across the threshold, remember?” she whispered, breathless with laughter.

“Oh, I didn’t forget,” Matt murmured. “Just wanted a moment alone with my wife first.”

Wife.

The word made her stomach flip in a good way- warm and giddy and ridiculous.

He scooped her up easily, one arm beneath her knees, the other at her back, and she looped her arms around his neck like she’d never let go. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“I’m legally required to now,” he said with a smirk. “It’s in the vows. Carry you everywhere. Worship the ground you walk on. Try not to lose my mind over how good you look in that dress.”

“Flawless delivery, Murdock,” she teased. “Truly. I can tell you definitely wrote your own vows.”

He chuckled against her shoulder as he carried her through the doorway into the quiet, dimly lit apartment. Candles flickered. Soft music still hummed faintly from the speaker they forgot to turn off before the ceremony.

And for a second- just one perfect second- it was all stillness. Just them. Just this.

He set her down gently, hands lingering at her waist. They kissed again, slower now. Softer. Everything feeling like it had finally settled into place. She pressed her forehead to his, heart beating a little too fast.

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“I’ll beat you to it,” he murmured, eyes closing, nose brushing hers. “You’re here. You’re mine. We made it.”

She smiled, eyes glassy. “We did.”

They stood there for a while. Just holding each other. Breathing the same air. Wedding bands warm against skin.

But then-

She shifted slightly in his arms. Her brows furrowed.

“Matt?”

He straightened a little, instantly alert. “Yeah?”

“I feel... weird.”

He tilted his head, concern filtering through his features. “Weird how?”

She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I don’t know. It’s like- I just got dizzy all of a sudden. Like the room’s moving.”

Matt gently guided her toward the couch, helping her sit down. “Okay. Just breathe. You might be dehydrated. Or just- adrenaline crash.”

She tried to smile. “Yeah. Big day. Lots of emotions. Too many speeches.”

She stood too fast. Her hand slipped from his.

“Careful,” Matt said, already reaching for her again. “Take it slow- ”

“I think I need to throw up,” she mumbled, voice shaky.

“Okay, yeah,” he nodded, already guiding her. “Bathroom’s just- ”

She staggered.

Her balance tipped.

Matt caught her by the waist before she could fall. “Hey. Hey, I got you. It’s okay- ”

She didn’t answer.

Her body felt... lighter. Unsteady. Like her weight was shifting in his arms.

He tilted his head, trying to focus on her. “(Y/n)? You with me?”

She looked up at him.

Confused.

Scared.

“M-Matt, I...”

And then her voice just- cut out.

His arms were suddenly empty.

He blinked.

No sound. No step. No breath.

Just... gone.

The faintest warmth lingered against his fingertips- and then something like dust scattered through them.

“What the- ?” he whispered, stepping back. “(Y/n)?”

His hand shook. Her scent was still in the room. Her heartbeat-

No. No, that wasn’t right.

He turned, listening harder, straining his senses.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

The silence grew louder. His throat closed up.

“(Y/n)?”

He moved down the hallway. Checked the bathroom. The bedroom. “(y/n), c’mon. Say something.”

No heartbeat. No motion. Not even the creak of a floorboard. Like she’d never been there. Matt’s chest started to cave in.

“Okay, this isn’t- this doesn’t make sense,” he muttered. “Maybe you passed out. Maybe you hit your head. Maybe- ”

His foot bumped something.

Her ring.

Her wedding ring.

Lying on the floor.

His knees hit the hardwood before he could stop them. “No.”

He crawled forward, hands blindly reaching, as if she might be hidden just out of reach.

“(Y/n)!” His voice cracked. “Where are you?!”

Still nothing.

Just the flicker of the candles.

Just the soft sound of ash settling.

“No, no- God, no!” He stood again. Stumbled. Slipped.

“(Y/n)!” He shouted so hard it tore something in his throat. “Talk to me!”

He made it to the front door. Opened it. Nothing. No one. No footsteps. No sounds of retreat. Matt’s breathing picked up. His fingers trembled as he unlocked his phone, nearly dropping it before hitting Call.

Foggy.

It rang once. Twice-

Pick up.

The sound of the city outside had changed. He could hear it.

Screaming. Tires screeching. Glass shattering six blocks over. Someone crying for help. Sirens multiplying like wildfire. It all surged into his head at once- too much, too fast.

He pressed his palm against his ear, gritting his teeth. “Too loud. I can’t- ”

Click.

“Matt?” Foggy answered, out of breath. “Hey, shouldn’t you be- ?”

“She’s gone,” Matt said immediately, voice fraying. “Foggy- she was right here, and then she just... disappeared.”

“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?”

“I mean she turned to ash in my hands,” Matt snapped, breath catching. “I was holding her. She said she felt sick and then- then she just... she was gone.”

There was a pause.

“Matt, hang on- wait- ” Foggy’s voice shifted, panic creeping in. “I think... Matt, something’s happening. It’s not just her.”

Matt stilled. “What do you mean?”

“I’m outside and people are vanishing. Right in front of me. There was a guy walking beside me- just turned to dust. A woman screaming for her kid, and the kid vanished. A guy in a cab just disappeared behind the wheel, Matt. It crashed into a light post.”

Matt pressed a hand to the center of his chest like he could anchor himself to the sound of Foggy’s voice. But even that was drowned out by the chaos around him.

“I can’t hear her,” he whispered. “Her heartbeat- her breathing- it’s just gone. Like she was never here, foggy.”

Foggy’s voice came through again, strained and tense. “It’s happening everywhere. I can’t keep up. There’s shouting, people running- I think half the crowd outside just vanished. I’m not exaggerating.”

Matt stumbled toward the couch, hand landing on the coffee table. “She was right here.”

“I’m coming to you,” Foggy said quickly. “Stay there, Matt. Don’t go outside- Jesus Christ, someone else just- ”

The line crackled. Cut out. Came back.

Matt’s hands were shaking as he reached for the remote.

The TV flicked on.

"...mass disappearances reported in New York, Chicago, London- this is now confirmed to be a global event..."

Footage played- Times Square chaos. Pedestrians turning to dust mid-step. News anchors looking off-camera in horror. Phones on the ground. Car alarms going off in every direction.

“We are receiving reports that approximately half the world’s population has- vanished.”

The camera panned to a child’s stuffed toy, untouched, lying in a pile of ash. Everything was still. Except the noise. And the empty space beside him on the floor.

“She was right here,” he said again, softly. Like it might undo it.

“She was right here.”

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

five years later

She came back mid-step.

One foot lifted toward the bathroom- and when it landed, everything was wrong.

The apartment was darker. Colder. Rearranged.

The soft glow from the corner lamp was unfamiliar. The kitchen counter had a different crack. The rug was new. The air carried a different scent- like dust and time and a city that had moved on without her.

“Matt?” she called, voice hoarse.

Silence.

She stepped further in. The living room looked lived-in, but not by her. Not anymore. Not for a long time. The coffee table was cluttered with open case files. There was a cane by the door she didn’t recognize. Her heart pounded faster.

“Matt-?”

And then he was there. He stood in the doorway like he’d been carved from stone, unreadable and unmoved. Then, quietly- too calmly- he said, “So. You’re back.”

She stopped cold.

“Matt-”

He tilted his head slightly, almost as if studying her. “Took longer this time.”

“What…?” she breathed.

“Usually you show up around hour thirty-six,” he said, like it was a fact. “Right after the exhaustion hits but before the whiskey does anything useful.”

Her stomach twisted. “Matt, I’m not-”

“Don’t,” he cut in, sharp. “Don’t do that.”

She swallowed hard. “This isn’t what you think.”

“No?” His voice was soft, even, lethal. “Because it looks a hell of a lot like every other time I’ve lost my mind and imagined you standing in this room.”

(Y/n) blinked, her chest rising and falling too fast. “Matt, I- I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, no trace of humor. “You wouldn’t.”

“I was just- I felt sick and then it was cold, and everything looked wrong and-" Her words tangled, tripping over each other. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t answer.

“Matt?”

Nothing.

She took a tentative step forward. “Please. Say something. What happened? What- what’s going on?”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His voice, when it came, was low and sharp, like a scalpel slicing through skin without even trying.

“Don’t do this to me again.”

Her breath caught. “What- what do you mean, again?”

“I know your routine now,” he said, voice tightening with each word. “You show up, confused. You ask questions. You cry. And then just when I start to believe you might be real- when I almost let myself feel something again- you vanish.”

“Matt, I don’t- ”

“No,” he snapped. “Stop. Just stop.”

She froze. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his jaw locked, eyes unreadable.

“You know what it’s like to bury someone without a body, (Y/n)?” he asked. “To sit in this apartment with your ring in my hand, trying to convince myself that ash on the floor was all that was left of you?”

She shook her head, tears spilling freely now. “I don’t remember anything-”

“Exactly,” he said, bitter. “You never do. That’s the trick, isn’t it? You pretend like you’re all confused. Like you don’t know what’s happening. And I- I fall for it. Every time. Like an idiot.”

“Matt- please, just listen to my heartbeat-”

“I did,” he cut in. “I’ve heard it before. Right before it disappears.”

Her lips trembled. “I swear I’m not-”

“You don’t get to do this,” he said, his voice suddenly shaking, but no less cruel. “You don’t get to come back here like nothing happened. Like you didn’t leave me bleeding on the floor that night. Like I didn’t spend years trying to claw my way out of what you left behind.”

“I didn’t leave you,” she whispered.

“But you’re dead,” Matt hissed, stepping close enough for her to feel the heat off his skin. “You died. And whatever this is- this illusion, this dream- it doesn’t change that. You don’t get to hurt me again.”

He said it like a closing statement. Like a sentence passed down after a trial that never had a chance. But he didn’t stop there.

“You think this is easy for me?” he went on, voice low, cracking at the edges now. “You think I want to keep seeing you in doorways? Hearing your voice when I close my eyes? You think I haven’t begged for it to stop?”

(Y/n) stood frozen, lips parted, tears streaking silently down her face.

“I have spent five years trying to forget the exact way you said my name before you disappeared. Five years trying not to hear it in someone else’s mouth. Five years waking up thinking you might be there- just once- and then realizing that all I’ve got left is a bed that’s too big and silence that’s too loud.”

He was pacing now, hands in his hair, breathing hard, unable to stop himself.

“You were my wife. You were supposed to be the rest of my life. And I had you for minutes. You were ripped out of my arms before I even got to love you properly. Do you understand that? Do you even get what you left behind?”

“Matt-”

“I grieved you like a man who’d never believe in God again,” he growled. “I went back to that night a thousand times in my head-wondering if I missed something, if I could’ve saved you, if I’d just done one thing different-”

“Matt-”

“I begged,” he snapped. “I begged God to bring you back. I lost everything trying to survive you. And now you show up here, looking exactly the same, like time hasn’t touched you, like you’re just picking up where you left off- like you didn’t burn me to the fucking ground-”

“Matt.”

She said it once.

Quietly.

And then she reached for him.

He flinched on instinct, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, gently, deliberately, she took his hand in hers- still trembling from the weight of his words- and guided it up between them.

To her chest. To her heartbeat. Right there. Steady. Real. Alive. His breath hitched. She kept his hand pressed there, fingers wrapped around his wrist like she could anchor him to this one undeniable truth.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m not in your head. I don’t know how or why or what the hell happened, but I’m here.”

Matt didn’t move at first. Just stood there, hand pressed to her chest, like he didn’t trust what he was feeling. Like it might stop if he acknowledged it out loud. Then- suddenly- he let out a shaky breath and pulled her into him, hard.

His voice was muffled against her shoulder. “What the fuck.”

Her hands gripped his shirt like she was afraid he’d drop her again. “Yeah, what the fuck. I don’t know what’s happening.”

He laughed once, breathless and half-broken. “Yeah. Me neither.”

They just stood there for a second. Breathing each other in. Trying to recalibrate. Then, against his chest, she mumbled, “You look like shit, by the way.”

It slipped out before she could stop it. Matt let out an actual laugh- short, incredulous, almost like it startled him.

“That’s not funny,” he said, wiping at his eyes, still half-laughing.

She smiled weakly. “Little bit funny.”

He shook his head, still not quite believing any of it. “God, I missed you.”

And then he kissed her.

Desperate and real and messy- too much force, too much urgency, like he didn’t trust it to last. His hands found her face, holding her like he needed proof she was solid. She kissed him back just as hard, fingers in his hair, anchoring him to now. To her.

It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real. And that was enough.

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a little bonus content because well it was funny in my head

A few days later

She was curled up next to him on the couch, legs tangled, one of his old hoodies hanging off her shoulder. The TV was on, volume low, neither of them really watching.

She was still catching up- on everything. The blip. The aftermath. The years she missed. Sometimes it hit her like a freight train. Other times, like now, it just snuck up and poked her in the ribs.

She turned to look at him, brow furrowed. “Wait a second.”

Matt tilted his head toward her. “Uh-oh.”

She sat up a little. “So… technically, you’re five years older than me now?”

He blinked. “That’s what you’re choosing to focus on right now?”

“It’s a valid question,” she insisted, grinning. “I married a man my age, not some grizzled thirty-something.”

He scoffed. “Grizzled?”

“I mean, I don’t see any grey hairs, but-”

“I’m blind, not deaf. I heard that smirk.”

She tried to hold back a laugh. Failed. “So you’re like… what, thirty-eight?”

“Thirty-seven,” he corrected flatly.

“Oh no. I married an older man.”

Matt deadpanned, “And I married a time traveler. Guess we’re even.”

She bumped her shoulder into his. “You gonna start calling me ‘kid’ now?”

He turned toward her, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth. “Only if you want to see how fast a five-year age gap doesn’t matter.”

Her face flushed. “Okay, grandpa.”

Matt groaned. “Regret. Immediate regret.”

She laughed, leaning back into him again, warm and solid and finally, finally real.

“Still married me,” she said, smug.

“Still would,” he replied, without hesitation.

And that shut her up for a minute.

[gailyinthedark]

Not to mention all the extra sensory input from being in a moving vehicle? The car is LOUD. If someone's talking or there's music playing I have to process that as a whole separate thing on top of the car-whoosh. You're trapped in a very limited range of postures. You've got scenery rushing by at a speed that should really only happen in life-or-death situations, like falling off a cliff or something, at least as far as our little primate brains are concerned, except it goes on and on and the other senses don't reflect that same information and so we're processing a weird, extended sensory disconnect. It's no wonder some people get sick. Cars are freaky little anxiety capsules and we expect our stressed out monkey brains to just be cool with that somehow.

Whenever I take a long car ride I end up exhausted afterwards, and I’m always like “why am I so tired? I was just sitting around doing nothing all day.”

But the answer, it turns out, is I was doing something. Riding in a car jars your body in many directions and requires constant microadjustments of your muscles just to stay in place and hold your normal posture. Because you’re inside the car, inside the situation, it’s easy not to notice all the extra work you’re doing just to maintain the status quo.

There’s all sorts of type of work that we think of as “free” that require spending energy: concentrating, making decisions, managing anxiety, maintaining hypervigilance in an unfriendly environment, dealing with stereotype threat, processing a lot of sensory input, repairing skin cells damaged sun exposure, trying to stay warm in a cold room.

The next time you think you’re tired from “nothing”, consider instead that you’re probably in situation where you’re doing a lot of unnoticed extra work just to stay in place.

[sordidmusings]

He and His Hat Will Be the Death of You

Summary: "He didn’t think that these close quarters would be an issue; hell, he was looking forward to it. He’s been fixated on you for awhile now. He’s deep in the yearning stage, actively seeking excuses for easily written off closeness. This hiding spot was sure not to be found and he gets to be crammed in there with you? ‘Best of both worlds!’ He had thought like the ignorant fool he was."

Y'all in a wall to spy and being trapped against you has Sabo at his wit's end.

A/N: Overthinking but a friend encouraged me to post❣️ Managed to get a very belated thing done for Sabo (almost forgot his bday tbh lol). Big shoutout to @hannahbarberra162 for beta-ing and suggesting to have this be a two parter and encouraging me to follow my instincts on Sabo being a Freak (affectionate) and reminding me I should utilize his dumb hat lol. Also a big shoutout to @schoute, who read through at the end and gave me encouragement as she always does 💚💚💚 Much love!!

Also thank you everyone for your patience with me as always 🤍🤍🤍

Word Count: ~3.5k

Warnings: NSFW, afab!reader, Sabo a freak freak in this one, cumming in pants, getting off to near death situations, dry humping, he's suffering of horny and you're accidentally making it Worse lol, accidental stimulation, very close quarters (you're both in a false wall because Reasons), some power imbalance (you’re his apprentice and obvs he’s a superior officer)

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Sabo is so glad that he’s the one in front. If he was the one behind you, you’d find out things he’s not ready to talk to you about. He’s sure he’ll tell you soon. One day. Maybe. Hopefully.

But if when that day comes, he won’t be telling you like this. Not with a nervous flush pinking his skin. Not with a slight tremble in his fingers and a shiver in his spine. Not with stuttering breath nor a mind skittering from all but your touch.

Despite his advantageous position, you’re sure not making it easy on him. Your steady breaths keep tickling the baby hairs on the nape of his neck, kindling a heat that swirls under his skin, moving through his chest and down. The insides of your thighs gently tease his hips. They give him little shocks every time your muscles move to adjust your dangling legs, accidentally caressing him. He dreads each time you move to peak around him; it invariably involves your hands holding his shoulders for balance and your chest pressed to his back for the same reason. You have a habit of always needing your hands busy, and it works against him when you absentmindedly massage thumbs into his tense muscles or trail your nails over his shirt, gently picking at it. The reminder that the touch is barely in your mind while it’s all his mind can hold onto makes him want to slam his head into the wall in front of him.

Unfortunately, that would be bad for many reasons.

High among them is that you’d likely think he’s a weird fucking idiot for doing that out of nowhere, especially when you’re meant to be silent. Then there’s the fact that you’re meant to be silent because there are targets he’s supposed to be spying on on the other side of the wall. Ones who definitely wouldn’t let a suspicious thump in the wall stay free of bullets for long.

That all is why you are both hidden in this false wall in the first place. A mission listening in and gathering intel with his beloved protege is not out of the ordinary, but this method sure is. He didn’t think that these close quarters would be an issue; hell, he was looking forward to it. He’s been fixated on you for awhile now. He’s deep in the yearning stage, actively seeking excuses for easily written off closeness. This hiding spot was sure not to be found and he gets to be crammed in there with you? ‘Best of both worlds!’ He had thought like the ignorant fool he was.

The logistics were nightmarish in themselves - finding the intended location that these meetings were to be held, finding the schedules of everyone in the building, sneaking in during the blind spots, creating a hollow you could slide into and traverse from the roof just above, replacing the mirror in the room with a one way. So much of it was luck, really, especially that your targets were the type to meet in gaudy gold crusted rooms with walls crammed full of decorations and filigree. No one who covets wealth so much could stand to stay in a room without a mirror, lest they go too long seeing their own image caked in opulence. And unfortunately they also tended to be tall if the height of the mirror was anything to go by.

Sabo could see out of it standing, his lips at level with the bottom edge of it but that meant that you would need a boost to see out. The mirror wasn’t wide so one of you raised behind the other made more sense, thus a small ledge was made with just enough strength and size to hold you sitting. The walls they built here were thick for soundproofing and fireproofing and that old castle feel. It gave you enough room to hop up and let Sabo squeeze in front of you, but you were always just brushing against his back and your knees were gently touching the wall next to his thighs. It was insanely uncomfortable for you after hours of being in here. You kept fidgeting, the time enough to make you a bit restless but the harsh ledge trying to turn you numb and the awkward way it rested your weight made it impossible to hold completely still. You tried to find comfort in Sabo through leaning into him and focusing on his warmth instead of the needles starting to creep down the back of your thighs. Good training and deep breathing kept you centered enough to focus on the room through the mirror and you had recording snails to save anything you may miss.

Sabo can’t believe himself right now - you’re his apprentice not the other way around, yet he’s the one that couldn’t tell you what these men were talking about if his life depended on it and it might actually come to that. Luckily you would have the answers but unluckily you are why he did not. You were also why he was so hot in this damned wall crammed against your body heat and electric touches. You’re why he’s currently picking a hole through his gloves in an attempt to keep his hands from sinking into the thighs that cage him. You’re why his lower back aches from the tenseness of holding his body still when all it wants to do is roll and give him some Gods forsaken relief.

He gives his head a small shake to snap himself into focus. He feels you reel back in surprise, narrowly avoiding a faceful of his hat. Your hands slide down and you squeeze his biceps lightly in question.

Are you okay?

Sabo hates that you’re so kind right now. Well that’s a lie, he always loves it but did everything you do have to overwhelm him so much? He thought this would be fine, it’s not like he hasn’t been close to you before but fuck being around you has gotten harder and harder as it’s gotten sweeter and sweeter. With each piece of you he sees he’s come to respect you more then enjoy you more then adore you more and he can’t tell you. He’s your superior, your idol, and now your friend. If you knew the devotion - the hunger - swirling in him, surely you’d be upset, surely you- fuck why are your thighs squeezing him?

To Sabo’s delight and horror you let out a whimper so quiet it barely made it to your lips, but he heard it. His hips rock forward once before he even knew they were moving but he does know the flush of pleasure that washes over him when his aching erection grinds into the wall before him. He stills his body, leaving his hips pressed tight to the wall and away from you. It’s slightly painful and definitely not what he wants, but he’s so wound tight that any attention on his throbbing cock is almost too good to resist. Choking back his own whimper, Sabo slowly rests his forehead on the wall, careful his hat doesn’t fall off completely, and blows out a tight breath.

You continue your slow squirming. One hand leaves him but the other digs in firmly to his shoulder now, slightly pulling down as if to lift yourself up. He shuts his eyes tight to keep them from rolling, unable to stop the flood of fantasies of you gripping and pawing at him, panting and whining, drawing him closer with clenching thighs just like the ones twitching at his sides-

Sabo is unable to stop another rock of his hips forward. He slowly presses his hands hard into the wall to keep them from seeking you. He soon gives up stillness and busies one hand with keeping his hat steady while the other fists around the lapel of his jacket. His hips can’t keep from motion either; miniscule circles keep his cock rubbing against the wall. It’s too hard to feel good but feeling nothing is maddening and he couldn’t possibly do anything else with you all over him.

You pull down harder and this time his eyes do roll back. Precum leaks heavily out of his painfully sensitive tip. It starts to leak down over his head and down his shaft, well all the mess that isn’t soaked up by his pants. He worries for a second about hiding the growing stain when you both leave but then you sink your fingertips into him again and huff a breath on his tingling skin and there’s nothing in the world but you.

Your warm presence at his back, your desperate touch, your weight teasing at him, fuck he can even smell you on the air in here trapped so tight for so long. Wait does that mean you can smell him? Does he reek of sex - can you tell he’s leaking for you? Would you mind? Would it flatter you to know how much of a mess you make of him? Would you taunt him and make him make it up to you or would you want him to use the strength you admire to rip every bit of pleasure either of you can feel from your bodies-

Deep squabbling voices drum through the wall and remind him where he is.

Sabo’s hands finally flit to your thighs to stop your torturous squirming. Even with his gloves he can feel the plush of them by how his grip sinks into you. His fingers press deep and he can tell how good the grip is, how he could use it to press and pose you to his whims, drag you closer, open you up, fold you half. At the moment, all he allows it to do is hold you still and hold you close. Instead of a command to stop, however, you take it as an invitation.

That invitation leads you deeper against him, leaning your chest forward to put some of your weight on him instead of your sore bottom. It’s not much, but enough to dial encroaching agony back down to pain. Your head relaxes forward against him in relief, gently bumping under the brim of his hat from your spot buried against the back of his neck. One hand stays anchored to his shoulder while the other slides around his trim waist to anchor him to you. You feel his abs twitch and diaphragm stutter even through all his layers.

Sabo tries to shift himself up to help you and do something with all this energy. It relieves a speck more of the numbing pressure from your seat, and you can’t help but sigh from it. The sound is barely there, definitely kept safe from outside ears by the barrier of the wall but definitely close enough for Sabo to feel as well as he hears. He knows it was from something innocent but god was it just the same as some of the sighs he’d dream of pulling from you - sighs dripping with relief and need and even the pain of drawing you close again and again till all you can do writhe and gasp and beg and need him. He needs you to be as pathetic of a puddle of want as you’re making him and without even trying.

The fantasy melding with your touch takes him again and he just can’t help but cant forward again to grind himself on anything. He’s not sure if he’s ever ached half as much of this and is dangerously close to ruining the mission and risking your lives just to spin around, shred your clothes, and fuck you. But more than that he needs you to be as obsessed with him as he is with you or he shouldn’t get to sink into you, it wouldn’t feel right.

His hands give one massaging change of grip and then he’s pulling you forward with him on the next grind. This time, he’s holding a sizable portion of your weight and you squeeze him in relief and for more. Your second sigh stutters so prettily and he can feel your lungs and breasts jump with it against his back and the little hairs on his neck that it tickles. Who could blame him for tilting his head back to hear and feel more?

His hat is falling, the action bumping it right off of his head. Habit and instinct meet to jerk his hand towards it and the thump of knuckle meeting wall stops both of your hearts.

Before they could find their next beat, three shots tear through the air and the drywall. Your world lurches and liquid tingles run through every inch of your body, washing out all other feeling. Every muscle tightens, stopping squirm and grasp and blinking and breath and all but your newly sprinting heart. Sabo is stiff as stone in your hold, doing little to comfort you. Your only measure of time is the growing burn of your wide eyes and stalled lungs.

“Always breathe first”

The echo of Sabo’s steady voice in training breaks through the fuzz in your head and you can exhale. A spec of clarity eases in with the oxygen and you realize that you aren’t hurt. A tilt of your head and you realize the bullets ripped through the wall and planted themselves in the back layer safely to your side. And only because Sabo jerked you both just out of their aim.

More oxygen guides you out of the purgatory of fight or flight when the sounds of the meeting resume. The adrenaline begins to fall off of you, pulling you to lay slack against Sabo’s back. You feel him tremble and hold him as best you can, worried he’s stuck in the punishing fear that just swallowed you before spitting you back out.

Sabo is definitely stuck and there certainly is fear, but that’s not why he trembles. At first it was definitely for your safety; he doesn’t know what he’d do if you were truly hurt, especially because of his own blunder. He’s thankful that true danger kicked off his haki and let him act so quickly and competently where before he was too consumed to think of much of anything. He’s only dug back deeper into that hole now that “you’re safe” turned to a ringing of “we almost died” in his head. Each time the thought repeats, it pounds in his heart and shoots violently to his cock. The exhilaration, the danger, the relief, they all overwhelm him and make him feel so alive and so needy and so sensitive and so fucking close.

He trembles and gnaws at his lip to keep his throbbing cock from drooling out any more than the precum that’s been wetting his underwear for awhile now. He can feel it pounding between his legs so hard that it hurts. But shame keeps him fighting against the mouthwatering orgasm wringing in his gut.

What kind of freak cums from getting shot at? How could he lose himself with you so sweetly tucked to his back, no clue to how desperate and turned on and depraved he’s being? How lowly would you think of the man that’s your superior, your teacher and guardian, if you found out that being near you has them so close and a little fright pushes them over the edge? That they held you as they came in their pants like a pathetic loser?

The hyper awareness of his stoked haki and adrenaline make it all the easier to feel every little movement you make. He feels you settle boneless against him, relishing your weight pressing you so close. He feels your grip turn from a lifeline back into an embrace, making him hold back a sob at how soft it makes his heart and how painfully hard it makes his dick. He feels you use your thighs this time, gently squeezing his hips in something meant to be comforting but that ends up being agonizingly erotic. The muscle and fat of your thighs feels so warm and alive squeezing him and all he can think of is them holding him tight while his cock is instead throbbing in your wet heat, where each jerk of his hips shoots another gush of hot cum to the rhythm of your orgasm wringing down around him. He can hear your moans and cries and pleas ringing through his head now.

“It’s alright, darling, please cum in me, fill me up -nngh- I need all of you -hah!- Sabo! please cum for me, it’s okay, I need it”

Against his will, his hands grip down hard again and pull your thighs even tighter to him. You’re pressed so close he can feel the natural heat between your legs warming his lower back and it drives him insane.

Thinking he’s scared from the close call and possibly nervous about causing it, you give him a reassuring squeeze. A fresh shiver runs through his body from head to toe. Heart sinking even more at his sorry state, you move your hand from his shoulder so both arms are wrapping around him. This one changes trajectory, sliding to the middle of his chest, over his heart. You draw a few shapes over his sternum before applying firm pressure with a flat palm.

Sabo’s heart beats its ardor against your palm, but all it translates to you is anxiety. You don’t know that your sweetness only warms him through, drowns him deeper in the depths of love and desire he was already struggling to tread, sinks him into the world in his head where he’s already flooding you full like every cell in his body is begging for. A world colored by your gratitude for him saving you both from near death and your hidden love for him that had you throw yourself into him with the same desperation that’s burning him alive.

You nose forward until your lips are at his ear. Your lips and breath tickle the rim of it. He’s still tense and trembling and you’re so worried you forgo some of your fears and whisper, “‘s okay.”

Your thighs gripping him, your hand holding his heart, and your words - so close to his dream’s - smother him and he jolts. His breath is trapped in his throat, his jaw slack and mouth open as if to let it free, but his eyes and brow scrunch with delicious agony. He can’t think of any of that over the bliss beating through him as all the pressure finally turns to the crashing waves of his orgasm wringing him empty with spurt after spurt. His stomach and thighs burn at the tenseness turning to relief, taken by involuntary twitches and the power of each thump of his cock against the tight confines of his pants ricochets through them.

You hold and caress and, as quietly as possible, shush him through his orgasm. It makes it all the easier to imagine the sticky mess around his cock is a mix of your slick and the cum he’s pumping into you.

It’s a long while before Sabo settles. The crash of both the adrenaline leaving and an orgasm strong enough to keep him kicking past having anything to give make him fall almost completely slack in your grip. He leads it gently so the wall holds him and you up (at the cost of being able to watch the meeting, as if either of you were fulfilling the mission at this point) and focuses on aiming to be silent while he tries to catch his breath. All the while, you sweetly anchor him through their capricious tides.

It makes him ache again - a corrosive pool of shame eating at his chest. Reality trickles in with it and sets its scars in his flesh and bones. Not only did he cum in your arms while you’re none the wiser, he did it on a mission where you almost got shot and are trying to comfort him about it. The empathy and care he so loves in you are only serving to shove him into the grave he’s dug with his uncontrollable attraction to you. You offer him your affection and he perverts it into dry humping a wall and ruining his trousers. It’s wasted on him.

He doesn’t deserve your touch, your love - not like this.

But he can’t escape you. Even when he’s reigned in his lungs and heart, you’re right there with your tickling breath. Even when he’s forcing his mind to repeat every word he picks up from the other side of the wall, you’re right there with your resting cheek. Even when he’s managed to smoothly place you back on your ledge and his hands back on the wall, you’re there with your embracing arms.

It’s the best hell he’s ever known.

He was almost sad to see its gates open once the earth outside them was empty.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading!! There will be a part two Eventually where both are aware participants this time lol

Will update with taglist soon!

Masterlist

[brawberryz]

⎯⎯ㅤMy Neighbor Totoro

⎯⎯ㅤBatfam Yan! × Totoro! Reader

《Platonic》

Note / English is not my first language / Reader is not based on Totoro, but on one of the protagonists of the film.

TW / yandere behaviors, obsession, isolation, stalking, manipulation, slight mention of death, yandere themes

A New Beginning

Or so your siblings said. After your parents died, all your siblings decided to move to a small town.

It was a house far from almost everything; the only thing surrounding it were trees and vegetation.

And if you were honest, you didn't complain. There was plenty of space to play, and Damian and I started growing vegetables and planting flowers.

Although the house seemed very old and dirty, it felt very cozy to you.

You always spent time outside running and jumping around the place. Sometimes you would ask Damian to join you, and he would reluctantly agree.

But you had noticed that since your parents' death, they had become much more overprotective of you.

You couldn't stray too far from home, and you weren't allowed to talk to anyone unless you wanted to be grounded.

But that didn't stop you. You were very young and immature.

From a very young age, you always had that adventurous and curious spirit. Break the rules

But your greatest wish was always to climb and explore the enormous tree next to your home.

When you told Richard about your idea, his respect was a big no.

"Sorry, (Name), it's too dangerous,"

Richard said, not paying much attention to your pleas to go explore the big tree.

"But—"

Before you could speak again, Richard quickly interrupted you.

"I'm not going to repeat that again, (Name), no means no, do you understand?"

He gave you that look that made your whole body shiver slightly.

You looked down as you let out a defeated sigh and pouted.

Richard's chest tightened as soon as he saw your mood; he thought he'd been too hard on you.

He bent down to your level, gave your shoulder a light squeeze, and then spoke.

"I know you like exploring and all, but it's too dangerous if you go alone. I don't want to lose you (name)... not like I lost them."

You just nodded, gave you a light pat on the head, and then went back to what you were doing.

You thought you'd get lucky with your other siblings if you asked.

But they all had the same answer: "No."

At this point, you were seriously considering giving up; your dream of exploring that enormous tree was shattered.

You decided to go out into the yard and explore the surroundings as you always did.

As you walked, you found a couple of acorns on the ground. A little strange, but a few days ago, some acorns mysteriously appeared outside or inside the house.

The others didn't pay much attention and just said that they were most likely just squirrels living on top of the house.

You put the acorns in your pants pocket, but something caught your attention. You saw something white moving through the grass.

You tilted your head, confused, wondering what it was.

And then you saw some kind of white creature come out of the grass. It was very small and looked like some kind of fat cat that walked on two legs.

Your eyes shone with admiration and surprise. It was the first time you had seen something so tender and cute.

You saw the little creature walk past you without flinching, you were literally watching it.

Out of pure curiosity, you started to follow it and see where it was going.

You weren't going to waste this opportunity. You had too many questions, and you were going to find the answers.

The little creature turned to look at you. You gave him a small smile and watched as he started walking faster.

You instinctively started walking faster too. Before you could get any closer, you saw the small white creature disappear before your eyes.

It's like it's become invisible, weird.

You started looking around but couldn't find anything. You squinted a little to see better, and then you saw it.

It was almost transparent, but your eyes could still see it.

You started chasing it again, and it was only a matter of time before the creature realized you were chasing it.

It started running faster. You treated it like a race, so you started running even faster.

You weren't going to let that strange creature escape you.

They continued like that for a few seconds. Maybe that little guy was fast, but you were even faster.

When you were about to reach it, the creature went down the stairs. You ducked to reach it, but the space was too small, but you still didn't give up.

You were able to get inside a little and stick your head out. It was too dark, but you still saw a small figure moving toward a small exit.

You quickly got up and headed to the other end. There was a small entrance, and you thought the little creature would come out through there.

You crouched down and waited patiently.

A few seconds passed, and nothing happened. You were about to give up before you heard something fall.

You quickly turned your head and saw the little white creature, but it wasn't alone.

Next to it was another creature, a little larger than the other and navy blue.

You saw that the biggest one was carrying a bag full of acorns; therefore, it was responsible for the acorns.

As soon as they saw you notice them, they started running.

You quickly got up and started chasing them.

You weren't going to let them get away so easily.

You were so focused on catching them that you didn't realize you'd entered the small forest, which all your siblings had clearly told you not to enter.

You had a hard time chasing them, as the place was quite steep.

You had to be careful with the branches and roots that They were sticking out of the ground and were lying on the floor.

You fell a couple of times, scraping your elbows and knees, but that didn't matter to you.

Your clothes were covered in dust and dirt, and your hair was a mess. You didn't even know how long you'd been chasing those things.

But you stopped as soon as you saw the enormous tree in front of you. You saw those little creatures enter a hole in the enormous tree.

You tried to look further inside, but you slipped, causing you to fall into that hole.

You began to fall down a small tunnel, twisting and turning. You felt like you were going to throw up, and you hadn't even had lunch yet.

As soon as you hit the ground, you felt your head spinning and you were dizzy.

The space where you fell was medium-sized, but it was filled with vegetation.

You began to look around the place with excitement until you saw a huge creature lying in a small hole in the wall.

This The creature was different from the rest; it was black and had bat-like wings.

It was also quite large, perhaps the size of a bus.

You stroked one of its wings; they were quite soft.

You saw how it moved at your touch. You continued touching its wings since they were very soft, as soft as your pillows.

Out of pure curiosity, you hung onto one of its wings. Before you could react, the creature began to turn around.

Luckily, you were able to move quickly before it crushed you. You ended up on top of it.

There, you were able to get a closer look. It seemed to be some kind of strange bat; its fur was very soft.

It might have seemed intimidating to others, but in your eyes, it was the cutest creature you'd ever seen.

It seemed to be asleep, but your touch woke it up.

You saw how it opened its eyes slightly and stared at you for a few seconds.

You gave it an excited smile. The strange creature yawned. Then go back to sleep.

It didn't seem to mind your presence. You decided to lie down on its furry chest, and it was quite comfortable.

It felt like you were sleeping on cotton wool; your body was too tired from running around too much.

Besides, you didn't think you'd be able to move properly for a while because of the wounds on your knees and elbows.

You quickly fell asleep on top of the creature. A part of you told yourself not to trust it too much, as it could be dangerous.

But you were too tired to think clearly.

As your eyes closed, you could feel one of its wings cover your tired body.

_

You woke up in your bed, quite confused, and thought it was all a dream.

But the small bandages on your elbows and knees said otherwise.

Before you could process everything that was happening, you felt someone pounce on you.

You felt Richard hug you tightly as he worriedly asked you what had happened.

You just lied and said you had fallen. Okay, it wasn't completely a lie, but you couldn't tell him you had gone without permission to that place you were specifically told not to go.

Since that incident, everyone had become more possessive of you.

Your hours of going outside and playing, which had previously been unlimited, were now only 3 to 2 hours.

You always had one of your brothers watching you closely; you couldn't allow his beloved little sister to get hurt again.

In his eyes, you were too fragile and innocent for this horrible world, so you had to stay close to them.

You don't need to. No one, just them.

But you still managed to sneak away from them to visit your new friend.

You had named him 'Batman'.

What an original name.

You always collected lots of acorns for him and his little friends; you were like a personal little acorn collector.

You kept it a secret, until one day Damian discovered you and secretly followed you.

He had suspected for a long time that something was wrong.

So one day, he followed you without you knowing. He was very surprised when he saw the large creature you were visiting.

You swore that at that moment, Damian almost fainted from the shock.

You begged him not to tell anyone; you convinced him that 'Batman' wasn't bad.

Hesitating a bit, he decided to listen to you. From that moment on, he asked Richard to be the one to watch over you.

Richard finally agreed. From that moment on, you and Damian began visiting 'Batman'.

You used to sleep on top of him since the big creature was sleeping all the time.

While Damian lay next to him while he drew or did his homework, you could say his sketchbook was full of sketches and drawings of the furry creature.

Little did you know, 'Batman' was starting to grow fond of you.

And that affection turned into an obsession.

At night, he would send one of those little creatures to watch over you while you slept. I just want you to be safe!

Not only did you have your family overprotecting you all the time.

But now you had some kind of magical creature obsessed with you.

You're so unlucky.

Re-uploading this shit after a long time

(Sorry if I didn't add my girls Barbara, Cass, and Steph, but this was a request specifically asking for Batboys, sorry :(

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ Heyyyy, Not much to say just thought if this }~

•Deadbeat•

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Klarion was acting weird.

He had been attacked the YJL more often than usual and has been dragged it out for as long as he can and instead of his usual “Do what I need to and cause as much chaos as possible” it has changed to “Take as much time as possible to do what I need to do and cause even more chaos” so yeah Klarion has been a pain in their side for weeks at this point.

And today was no different, Klarion had showed up and brought some of these tar things that if you punched it they would explode in your face and cover you in the tar things (But don’t worry the tar doesn’t work it just feels and smells really weird) so well the YJL where fighting off the tar things Klarion was tinkering with what looked to be a puzzle box but Tim doesn’t really care about that right now he just needs to get to him after beating the tar things.

After about 19 minutes the YJL finally got to where Klarion was sitting looking at them but before Klarion could say anything someone suddenly yelled.

“KLARION YOU FUCKING DEADBEAT” Looking to where the voice came from and was met with a very pissed off and a very pregnant being looking at Klarion with the rage of a thousand suns.

All Klarion had time to say was “Oh shi-“ before being thrown more an a hundred feet than started to get thrown around like a rag doll well the being yelled at him in a very strange language.

And while the YJL watch as one of the biggest pains in there sides get thrown and Tim doesn’t know to step to help Klarion or start recording so the team could watch this later for fun, but Tim didn’t really have the chance to choose as a young voice from his right side.

“GET HIS ASS MAMA!” said what looked to be an 8 year old boy who looks like the perfect mix of the Being and Klarion and in his other hand was a camera and a small bowl of popcorn.

After a few minutes of watching Klarion get his ass kicked by the Being before Klairon is yeeted into a Lazarus green portal with the still very pissed off Being hot on his tail.

And the Kid follows close behind and walks through the portal as it closes behind him.

And now the YJL are just standing there covered in weird tar stuff and wondering what the hell just happened.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

Background

Dusk was just having a regular day ( well as regular your day can be when you are basically the prince of ghost and chaos ) when Papa ran in and shut the large black iron door behind him like his life depended on in, papa looked at him and Dusk looked back at him and just asks “What did you do to piss off mama?”.

“Well… you know how your mamas been making that new galaxy and how he absolutely adores the thing?” Papa says with a very nervous smile while he looks for the object Mama gave him to hop from one world to another without making Clockwork upset.

“Yeah of course mamas just showed me a few days ago” Dusk says while thinking his papa is avoiding the reason mama is mad when it dawns on him “…Oh you didn’t” Dusk says with horror, Mama says it takes a lot out of him to make a new galaxy and with him holding Dusk’s baby sister it takes even more so Mamas just been sleeping in the nest of his room.

“Well I went in there while your mama was asleep and I was trying to grab something from the new galaxy and I tripped and pulled the whole thing down….and that was what your mama woke up too so now if you excuse me I’m gonna go find something so your mother doesn’t beat the shit out of me” was the last thing papa said before hoping to one of his favorite worlds and at the same time is when a very sleepy mama walks in still in his nightgown and robe he hasn’t even put his hair up yet but he’s still looking like he’s going to kill a man before he turns to dusk and asks.

“Starling where is your Father?”

Well Dusk has always been a Mama boy

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

Little Facts

•Short summary of why the hell is going on with Danny it’s the classic GIW and bad Fentons, Clockwork grabs him with the help of Dan and Dani and takes Danny to the ghost zone and now Danny is a full ghost but Dan and Dani were hurt in the fight to get Danny back but there are two problems one he can’t hold both cores at once as he is still a baby by ghost standards and his cores not powerful enough for that and he needs some DNA to help stabilize both of there cores and Clockwork calls a favor from Klarion to help Danny and Klarion falls in love with the very pretty ghost boy who can beat his ass and after Dan now Dusk has been born Danny lets himself fall in love with Klarion and now we’re here.

•Danny has a Space core and Dusk has a Moon core and Dawn has a Sun Core

•Klarion finds Danny being able to beat his ass hot and because Klarion is an immoral being it doesn’t really hurt or injure him Danny makes sure of that no matter how angry he is 

•Dusk likes making fun of how much of a SIMP Klarion is than immediately starts acting like a mamas boy the second Danny walks in a room

•The room that the new Galaxy was in is made of all black marble for the pillars and floor the nest I’m talking is a very large circle mattress in the middle of the room with dark blue almost black thin see through fabric around it with a lot soft and comfortable blanket in there for when Danny is making new things and sleeps in there if he’s tired enough for mad at Klarion and brings Dusk in there to show him Danny creations but Klarion always finds them later with Danny holding dusk like a baby in his sleep and ends up joining them

•Dusk has white hair like Danny while Dawn will have black hair like Klarion

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

Appearances

Danny’s Appearance

[Ok so take the full dress and the fur arm thing and add on the middle part of the first one and than make the white hair from the third pic and make it into the first hairstyle than change the dresses color to black and green with silver]

Dan’s Appearance

[instead of red it green, black and silver]

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

~{And that’s it! Also I was helped by @villainmirabelmadriga for the outfits and i love what they come up with so go check them out anyway byeeeee}~

[mosswiind]

I... okay so I have been thinking about this since it was posted.

I'm not saying you can't want that, you do you, I'm not playing your Rook.

I am saying that Neve is, in actuality, extremely professional given the circumstances, and also not a bitch about it, but she is justifiably a little snarky.

So the thing that I'm stuck on is being a bitch ""back"" because there is no back???

Neve is a consummate professional and a nice lady even if you choose to save Treviso.

The closest she gets to being "a bitch" is asking to skip the personal catch up, and does a professional debrief - Lucanis in the same position just says "not now, Rook." Or like, responding to Rook saying "you know I'll always show up for you" with a very honest "I don't, actually," which Lucanis also does.

Idk, as an adult with coworkers she is at no point anything I would personally consider a bitch, especially from a colleague and friend.

Idk. I just can't get my head around wanting to bully my coworkers for having the audacity to grieve at our home that we all share.

Feels weird.

dragon age players: I want more conflict with the companions I want them to say more mean stuff it's funny to me

Neve Gallus: makes a justified snarky remark about being fucked over by you personally

dragon age players: no I only like it when boys do it

[sglossmin]

Muse | MYG

Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You're here for an appointment for therapy and he's your psychologist.

Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader ---> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?)

Warnings: talks about mental and death...erm lemme know if you found any disturbing heh

Word count: dunno

A/N: This is...actually some sort of based irl looll (only the high school scenes, most of it) This is my first one shot work! Let me know if I'm lacking something. The current series that I'm still working rn is still not even half finished T_T T_T So I thought I might give it a try---write a oneshot heh I just started here to write in tumblr so I still don't know that much stuff. Feel free to comment so I can improve!! Ik some of those thing weren't even a thing at that time...

"Shit..." I muttered right as I saw the man in a white coat, a clipboard in his arms while his hair softly falls down in his brows, reading his next patient's data. Just like the last time I saw him. Weird, huh? It's been years, yet... he still looks just the same.

Our eyes met, for the first time in a while. He frowned, it was so subtle and fast, no one would even know. But I did. Every little actions that he did, I always notice it. No matter what. I keep saying that the Y/n who just hit her puberty is no longer me, yet with my emotions right now, I can feel like my hormones are all over the place.

"Sit down," he smiled, gesturing the seat across him.

His voice so deep it sounds like soothing lullaby... Eyes so tired that I can tell he works so well... The warmth in his smile makes my heart skip a beat, forgetting why am I here in the first place...

Snap of it!

It took me a second to realize that I stared at him for too long. I cleared my throat, wishing my embarrassment would also go away. I smiled as I took the seat.

Our session ended without him saying that he at least recognize me. Did it made me upset? Yeah... sort of. I mean, I didn't go there and paid him to reminisce our high school days, but still...

I huffed as I crumpled a paper.

"Ugh! Really? Y/n? Still drawing him?"

I uncrumpled it and stared at the newly drawing for a while. I leaned back in my chair and sighed... "I'll give it to him. He looks hot in that coat." I chuckled and stuck the paper back in my notebook. "I'm keeping it because I drew him too good, not that I still like him or anything. That would be just so stupid."

Ha! Right! Nothing else. I smiled, pleased with how I gaslight myself.

I stretched my back and arms. My body ached for having a shrimp position for a long time.

And before I know it, I fell asleep (again) in my studio.

Summer 2010

Our last subject just finished and it's still raining heavily. I have no umbrella so my friends and I were forced to run. Reaching the covered court, I groaned. "Why call it summer when it rains this heavy??"

"Do they really think—us—high school students are waterproof?" Exclaimed by Sana while Chaeyoung just chuckled beside us. Our clothes were pretty wet but not that drenched.

We went upstage since there's some chair in there. Putting our bags down, we wait for the rain to stop. Us juniors only have to spend half day in the campus. Lucky, huh?

"Stay here, hm? You both can't leave me just because you guys have umbrella to share and your house are close." I glared at the both of them while they just snickered. They won't leave me otherwise, I know that.

It's been an hour, yet the rain don't seem to plan on stopping. It's about 1 now, we think. Seems like we're the only junior students in the campus. Suddenly, the seniors from the front building went outside. They went in the cover court. They were wearing some sort of costumes. It was ridiculous—Okay, not really. They seemed like they're going to dance.

We sat still from above across them and watch them prepare.

"Hey, Chae, wanna play?" I grinned as I whispered. Sana was too occupied with her phone that's why it was just the two of us who played.

We played Smash or Pass with every senior guy that I pointed. Until finally, I pointed it to the guy who's wearing a Thai hat(?) The gold ones, it seems like part of their costume.

"Hm... Smash!" Chaeyoung laughed and I did too. Cause miraculously, SAME.

We had a great laugh realizing we'd say smash.

We watched them dance and sing along with the music that were playing. Thinking about it, we might actually look like idiots. They can practically see us sing and dance with them since we're upstage.

After a while, I asked Chae, "What nickname should we give him?" It's our thing. Giving nicknames to people whether they look good or annoying. I think it's every friend groups should do.

"He looks like a cat and his eyes disappear too when he smiles... Kitty?"

"Kitty...?" Sounds weird so I proposed to change it. "What about Neko? Same meaning but doesn't sound weird." She agreed and since then, we called him Neko. With his sharp eyes and pale tone, he does looks like a kitty.

Few moments after, we planned a scheme. We went down to compare our height to his. We walked towards him as if we were just passing by and about to go to the canteen instead.

My and Chae's eyes went wide open. Gasping and staring at each other, the signal were sent.

Gosh, he's tall.

Oh gosh, he is.

A day or two passed since that. We randomly saw him when we went to buy in the canteen.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

Untill a few days have been passed and I keep on seeing him. To the point that... maybe... just maybe, it wasn't really a coincidence anymore.

New character unlocked?

When we were about to go back in our room, we met Hani. My bestfriend in elementary days.

"Y/n! Come here! Imma show you something. Actually—no—It's a someone." Hani dragged me and Chae went along with me.

Hani rant about how this guy looks so good, that in the first time in a while, they found someone who actually looks good in this campus.

Chae and I eyed each other. Were we thinking who we're thinking?

As we reached the third floor of the first year's building, across it was the senior's building. We stopped our track right in front of the exact room. The windows were open and from our spot, we can literally see him studying.

"Neko?"

"You know him?" Hani asked in which I nod.

I think we just found our sweet spot.

Chae and I sometimes went up there just to catch a glimpse of him. It was stupid and fun.

Until that day came.

As usual, Chae and I went to the third floor once again. We stayed in the balcony that faces their room. It was break time so everyone was all over the place. Then I felt it. Chae poked my side and pointed my front. I frowned and followed her finger. There was it, his teacher raising her brow at me. Then his classmates turned their heads toward me... 'till lastly, he did. Everyone was looking at ME. I noticed Chae was hiding on the wall divider of the balcony. I looked back at the teacher who's still looking at me.

"Do you need anything, Ms?" We were quite far but it was still audible.

"H-huh..?" That was all I could muster. It was even barely a whisper. My mouth was slightly open due to not knowing what to do nor say. It lasted like that for a few more seconds. Until I mustered all the courage and pride I have left in my body and shrugged it off and walked away. Frowning as if they got it wrong and I was simply hanging out there.

Walk

Walk

RUN

I went back to our room as soon as I noticed Chae was following me. When we get back, we were panting and sweating. Our classmates looked at us with weird looks. Not that I can blame them. One of our classmate asked us and we did tell the story.

It was our last time going in there.

I felt someone flick my head. I groaned in annoyance.

"Noona, wake up!"

I grumbled as I sit up straight, realizing I fell asleep in the studio again.

"You know you don't have to flick me. Between the two of us, I'm the light sleeper." I mumbled while my eyes were focusing on the big guy in front of me.

He rolled his eyes at me. Up to this day, I wondered who did he got it from. "Eomma wants you to eat lunch with us."

I chuckled. "Your mother did? Wow, what a pleasure." I sassed.

He groaned and plopped himself at the couch. "Can't believe you still resent her."

"Kook, what kind of a daughter am I if I don't?"

Jungkook threw a pillow to me as he stood up. "Still. Eat with us."

And just like that, he walked away.

Life goes on, that's what they say.

I must've been nuts for going to therapy yesterday. It's not like, I'm seriously depressed.

Right..?

Living alone in the house that came from the paycheck of my drawings must be really the best accomplishment I've had. Who would've thought the high achieving in academics girl would end up in this job. It was pure mystery.

I stared at my empty fridge. I smiled. The only thing that kept me sane nowadays is this...

"Looks like, I need to go... shopping."

I grinned ear to ear while I spent my fortune.

"Who needs therapy, when you can go and do your grocery."

I picked out the foods I knew I'd eat while I finish the new dramas. I was about to get the last stock of my fave gummies until someone practically snatched it. Fast.

"H-hey-" I cut off myself from shouting when I realized who it was.

It was him. In normal clothes. Am I dreaming? Impossible. He wouldn't have clothes in the first place if I am.

"Oh, Ms Jeon." He smiled.

Smiled?

He has the nerve to smile after taking that gummy?

But... then again, who need those gummy bears when his gummy smile is practically the sweetest.

He cleared his throat. "Seems like we'll be seeing each other more often."

Uh...what? Is he trying to say that I have a severe mental illness so we'll literally see each other more?? This fucker...

He probably noticed my frown as he chuckled and shook his head. "Uhm, that might've come off the wrong way. I meant, I just moved in in this neighborhood."

Sorry, what..?

I laughed my nervousness away. It's not like we'll be neighbors. This neighborhood is way too big for us to see each other.

Is that why it was my first time seeing him in this grocery store?

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood." I chuckled, probably awkwardly and excused myself.

Damn it. It could've been my chance for us to talk and stuff, but I refused. I mean, with my looks right now? No thanks.

I skipped my lunch and didn't go to our family's house. I plopped myself on my bed and took out my old sketchbook.

Staring at my old drawings of him, it sure did bring back of the memories.

2010

It's been a month yet we still don't know his name. We already did a lot of different shenanigans just to know it. He must be really like having a low profile. We found his classmate's account yet his are nowhere to be found. Maybe he doesn't go online...

I was staring at my computer, scrolling on whatever stuff pop up, then it hits me. Her sister. Hani's sister!

They're in the same year, so maybe, just maybe, she knows his name.

I quickly typed in to ask her. A girl from our year had a picture with him posted. I sent it to her.

"Hi eonni, can I ask u a question? Is there a chance that you know him?"

*Photo sent*

It took a while for her to respond.

"Uhm yeah, he's from our year"

"Can you tell me his name?"

"Min Yoongi"

"I think that's his name"

Min Yoongi... cute. It suits him.

Hours and hours later, I still couldn't find his account. Then as I was searching, there was this account, he was friends with Hani.

My eyes widen. "Min Suga? Could it be?"

I stalked the account and it was really him. No wonder I couldn't find his account—he wasn't using his real name! Likes to keep a low profile? Bullshit. He has more than 5k followers!

Moreover...he really...looks good.

I wonder if his face reflects his personality.

I added him as a friend and waited for the request to be accepted. I told Chae that if he didn't accepted it within 24 hours, I'll delete my request. I still have pride you know. Don't want to be one of those girls in his inbox.

It hasn't even been an hour and I got the notification. He accepted it! I squealed and danced in my room.

This is what being a youth, right?

I clicked my tongue as I chuckled bitterly. "Youth is never coming back."

As I turn the pages more, my bell ringed. Jungkook never ring first, he just comes in whenever he wants to. I should really change the passcode. As for my mom, she never really bother coming here.

Expecting no one, I opened the door, only to gape at the man in front of me.

"You...like pies?"

Min Yoongi, in front of me, holding a pie, not just holding, but giving..?

"Uh...how close is your house exactly?" I didn't mean to sound rude, but rather genuinely curious.

He hesitatingly pointed the house across me.

The Kim's house?

"It was my friend's grandparents who lived there. He took them to take care of them and then he sold this house to me." Yoongi explained. His face going like this :]

"So you really did mean that we'll see each other more often..." I mumbled in which he caught. He laughed and gave me the pie.

"My mom kept on nagging me on giving pies. She really worked hard on it. Hope you like it!"

She's here?

I nodded and thanked him. He went back and I did too. The smell of the freshly baked peach mango pie really did things to my stomach.

For the first time, Min Yoongi gave me something.

Spring 2011

"Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I murmured while we wait in the senior's balcony. A few steps away from him, we waited. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him." I mumbled. "He didn't even read my text..." I mumbled. Chaeyoung was practically dragging me. "Look, he seems busy too."

"Would you rather let your drawing and efforts be wasted then?" Chayoung argued.

Then for the meantime, we waited. We walked towards his classroom but he was nowhere. He was just right there few seconds earlier.

"Stupid text."

A week ago...*

Should I really text him? The classes have been cancelled. I'm not sure whether it's a good idea to do it now. Should I make myself known? Or should I keep it anonymous? But I really wanna take a picture with him...

Ugh! My head hurts. Forget it, I'm just gonna do it.

"Hi uhm... So I just randomly draw one of my mutuals and it happened to be you.."

*Photo sent*

"Perhaps you like it?

"I was about to give you this at school tomorrow but they cancelled the classes so... Hope you like it<3

Was I too formal?

It took him hours to reply.

"Oh wow, what a nice piece!"

"Yes I like it, thanks!"

HE REPLIED!!! I muffled my squeal with my pillow as I looked back at his text. It took me hours to see the message and reply too.

"Guess... I'll just give it to you when we bump into each other, maybe(?)"

"Ugh goshhh how am I going to give you this at schoolT^T"

"Just don't give it yet if you're still not ready^^"

End*

I went home feeling defeated. Not able to give him the drawing.

I stared at my bedroom's ceiling before deciding to go online.

2+messages

It was sent an hour ago. I quickly opened the message. He replied to my text earlier in the morning, when I told him to meet up.

"Sorry, I just saw your text message"

"I don't have an internet at school, that's why"

"It's fine, so,I'll just give it to you tomorrow?"

"Okay, sure"

Saying it was fine when I was literally sulking in my room like a child. But that's when I haven't read his message.

Min Yoongi apologized to me.

I giggled like an idiot in my room as I stared at the text messages we shared.

The next day...

"AAHHHH! Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I whined, it wasn't just Chae and Sana was there for me, but some of my classmates too. They were waiting for me—like usual, we go home altogether. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him. This is really a stupid stupid idea!!" I ran around the court in attempt to go home.

We're here, in front of the senior's building. Waiting...again.

One of my classmate proposed that they'll just call him to go down. Two of them went upstairs to his room.

Why does he always keeping me on waiting. Does he think he's some sort of a king?

I huffed and were literally losing all my shits. Till I heard them.

"He's here!!" They squealed. Too much of an opposite, I composed myself and cleared my throat. Thank God he's tall so when I'm looking forward all I can see is his chest. I gave it to him and our hands brushed. It was so quick and subtle, yet it already made my heart warm.

As practiced, Chaeyoung smoothly asked him if we can take a picture—for business purposes. I felt too stiff. This is too good to be true. Then I felt it, he leaned closer. Our arms touching, he smiled to the pic.

My heart was about to get off my rib cage. My insides were going crazy, yet, thankfully, I look completely normal outside.

When I got home, he texted me, thanking and saying that he really appreciates it. A warm feeling spread across my whole body.

The next day, my classmates and I talked about the event yesterday. They were bitching about how Yoongi didn't even thanked me and just left. I laughed so hard when I heard that. Because he did. Yoongi did thanked me before leaving, it just happened that it was loud enough for only me to hear it. Now, it felt more special.

"Have you ever thought of the probable major reason for what you're feeling?"

Here we go again.

How can I focus on what's wrong with me, when you're right here? Worse, as my doctor.

3 more appointments with him. I paid for this, I should at least gain something.

"Maybe... because up to this day, I still blame myself for his death." My head hung low as I mumbled it.

Why do you always have to see my flaw, Min Yoongi?

This infatuation is slowly turning to hatred...

"You know it wasn't your fault."

I turned my head to him with a frown. So, he does remember me?

A tear fell from my cheek. I wiped it before he can even notice. I turned my hands into fist. 6 words. It was only 6 words yet he can already open my bare self.

"I-if I wasn't stubborn. He'd still be here. He followed me. You saw that. If only he didn't. He'd still be here."

I felt a lump in my throat. Those memories. It was too vivid as if it just happened yesterday.

Spring 2012

"I told you, I don't want to!"

Another day, another argument to have with my mother.

Why is she so pushy on making me go to states?

"It's for your own sake! Studying here at this campus will let you go nowhere."

"What? So eager to get rid of me?!" I yelled while we drive to campus.

"Jeon Y/n! Don't you dare shout at your mother." My father said sternly as he drives.

As we were near the campus, I lost it.

"Drop me off." 1.. 2.. 3... "I said, drop me off, dad." Keeping my voice low yet so stern it could cut apples.

My father stopped the car and I get out of it.

I was mindlessly crossing the road that I didn't notice a four wheeler truck coming at me.

Then I felt a pair of hands pushed me hard, and before I knew it, screams were heard. My mom's loud cries were ringing in my ears. Tears were coming out of me uncontrollably. Blood all over him. I crawled, oh so slowly and trembling. Before I could even reach him, my mom pushed me aside and called for help.

Minutes later, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I was just there. Staring at him. No words coming out.

It started raining. It was a light rain, yet even with those subtle touch, it made my whole body flinch and freeze.

Till I felt someone's embrace. Someone was covering me with their jacket. Who could possibly care for me if it wasn't my father.

Slowly, I turned my head towards the person.

Why it has to be you?

"Everything's gonna be okay. The ambulance is taking your father already."

He spoke in a soothing tone. Yet no matter how warm or soft his voice is, I can't somehow get out the ice cage I'm in.

"Do you think your father would want you to think that way? It's been years Y/n, what happened that you're back at this again?"

part 2 read here^^

A/N: okay, I lied. Maybe this isn't gonna be a oneshot... maybe I'll have 2 parts? 3 maybe? I just cut this off here cause I think it was too long. So readers can have breaks hehe. Gonna post the next part tomorrow maybe...

Comment your @ if u guys wants to be added on the taglist^^

[fight-nights-at-freddys]

I dunno if any of y’all have heard about the book Daddy’s Little Toy by Lauren Tesolin-Mastrosa (under the pen name Tori Woods), but if you haven’t, here’s the synopsis and the pics of the cover/back —

“Daddy's Toy is a loose retelling of Cinderella, where Lucy's family are neglectful and cruel. As Lucy grows up she finds herself attracted to her father's best friend. Little does she know that Arthur feels the same way. Together, they explore a daddy and little girl relationship, falling hard and fast for each other. Daddy loves spoiling his little toy and treating her like the princess she is. Happily ever after guaranteed, with extra sparkles and unicorns.”

Basically, this Australian woman released this book, and within days, she pulled it and deleted all her socials because of the harassment she was getting. Why was she being harassed? Because the male character had known the female character since she was three, and groomed her. Keep in mind, these are fictional characters. 

(There is also a rumor that, in her dedication, she wrote something along the lines of “I’ll never be able to see my children the same way”, but I haven’t been able to find any screenshots or really any proof of that.)

Then she was arrested. Again, she lives in Australia, and laws regarding fiction are notoriously strict there, so her book was deemed CSAM, and she was arrested for possessing, producing, and disseminating CSAM. 

She has also been let go from her place of work. Again, all this over fiction. 

I shouldn’t have to say that harassing, doxxing, and threatening to call CPS on someone for writing a book is wrong, we should all know this, but I guess we don’t. It’s wrong. You can say that the content of the book is disgusting, weird, whatever, but the sheer amount of people across all social media platforms I’ve seen not only agree with the arrest, but applaud it is both baffling and frightening.

I do not care if it’s glorifying, romanticizing, or fetishizing anything, because it’s fiction, and no one was hurt. I do not care that it was written as dark romance instead of splatterpunk/extreme horror, because you still have the duty, as a reader, to look at the back of the book or read a synopsis online and decide for yourself if it’s something you’d like to read, or if it’s something that will upset you. I don’t care how disgusting a book is, **arresting someone over any kind of fiction is bad**. It *legally* being CSAM in Australia doesn’t mean that’s a good or just law, and anyway, we shouldn’t be conflating legality with morality. 

I don’t know that I’d go the full nine yards and say it’s censorship, because she decided to pull it (granted, under threats of CPS and the police being called), but now that she’s been arrested, it’s pretty damn close to being censorship. 

We, as a society, NEED to come to the realization that written words or drawn pictures don’t harm anyone, because, like it or not, censorship is not a scalpel, it’s a shotgun. It’s just not pointed at you yet.

I’m also tired of seeing so many people acting like the Americans joining in on the debate are too “freedom-focused” because our laws aren’t so draconian (yet, anyway) that we don’t arrest people over fiction. Australia being too police state-y is not a good thing.

How can you, in good conscience, celebrate a woman being arrested, losing her job, losing her hobby, and potentially having to deal with CPS in the future, all over a book she wrote with original, fictional characters? Why would you ever want to target OTHER creators as well, and have them potentially face the same undeserved and unnecessary backlash, again, over fiction?

What the fuck is wrong with you so-called “normal people” that you care more about the characters and tropes these people write about, than the innocent lives you’re directly ruining, that you’d advocate for censorship, that you’d call for the death of someone?

[littelovelunette]

Anal hcs for sevika and ambessa pls🤲🥺

Headcanons (Featuring Sevika & Ambessa Medarda)

When she goes anal on you

Contains anal, smut, buttplug

Sevika

the idea comes to her naturally and she expects the same from you really since you claim you can match her freak

so gentle with you at the start, prepares you by fingering your ass with two fingers

asks you to relax every now and then because she doesn't wanna make it feel way too painful

“are you sure you can take it?” sevika asks with a brow raised and arms crossed when you first brought up the matter

“it's supposed to sting a little at the start.” sevika says when she finally sinks her strap inside your asshole causing you to let out a loud whimper, and a series of complaints.

“i guess we could go slower.”

uses a damn lot of lube so you're not too uncomfortable, “if you're not ready for this,” she backs the strap away, “maybe we could do with fingering for now?”

doesn't continue if you cry from the pain because she simply can't handle seeing her little angel cry

“shh, it's okay, we can continue later if that's what you want.” sevika doesn't shame you for being unable to take it up the ass

however if you do... there is no restraining this woman anymore

Ambessa Medarda

her prep game is amazing, she uses all sorts of lubricants and oils that she can get her hands on

massages them onto your ass and dipping digits in your ass crack just to rub more of the substance on your hole, “just lay back and relax.”

encouraging you to take more every now and then, showering you with praises and kisses

no nonsense when it comes to love making and absolutely unashamed when you say you like it in the ass

“sweet child.” she praises as she sinks her fingers in your ass making you groan in pain, “its so weird...” you whined causing her to chuckle

chances are likely you'll love the feeling of anal with ambessa since she takes it so slow and she has plenty experience being soft and gentle with these things (she's slept with twinks)

ambessa buys you a golden plug to keep in your cute little asshole while she can't touch you there. the base of it has a red ruby gemstone

“mommy's gonna be gone for a little bit, yeah? keep it inside.”

[moonyfbm]

It's a fun way our brain works that is very obvious in children, bc you as you grow, you learn to control yourself and that certain things are not acceptable.

You sense something that sparks a very big reaction. So big that you get overwhelmed. And when we get overwhelmed, no matter the cause, we often get aggressive. We lose control. We need to get this overwhelming amount of reaction, emotion, energy, out of us.

So even when we feel this overwhelming reaction of just pure cuteness, and we have this urge to tense and stretch our muscles, squeeze or bite the source; we don't actually do it. We're able to control ourselves! Thankfully... It doesn't mean you want to hurt the animal, or any animals in general, or that you're a bad person at all. It just means your brain is overwhelmed. :)

Imma just nerd out a little. I have noone to talk to lmao-

---

It's in the same vibe to me as how our brain perceives wetness. Bc we actually can't really perceive being wet in itself, we don't have the sense receptors that recognise "wet," but we put it together with temperature and pain clues. Have you ever sat down on some cold stones and thought, "Oh god, was that wet? It feels wet." But really, it's just cold. Have you put your hand in a bowl of perfectly body temp water and not felt anything? Like not even the water, unless you move your hand around, of course. But in warmer or colder water, we feel it because we feel the temperature. You feel the water from the faucet or shower bc it's hitting your skin with some power/pressure, as well as you feel the temperature. When you move your hand in the ocean you feel resistence, if you hit the water it'll hurt and you definitely feel that.

---

Ohh another weird thing about our brains! We humans still have some weird defense mechanisms. The fight or flight aren't the only ones. Ofc we also have freeze, but another one is... laughter!

It's socially associated with happiness and joy, which makes it weird that it's also used as an uncontrollable reaction to smth uncomfortable, painful, shocking, or the like. It's why you see people laughing when they're told their family member just got run over by a car, or when someone feels threatened by another human, they can chuckle and giggle. It feels backwards.

One specific example that most people misunderstand and, therefore, abuse is the act of tickling. Our reaction to the tickling is laughter, so the tickler processes this audable communication along with the visual smile as a positive interaction. But it's not. Everyone that is being ticklish will scream for you to stop in between the laughter. It's not painful, it can be uncomfortable, but that's individual, so why is it seen as a defence mechanism? Our brain doesn't quite know how to respond to being tickled, so it's in this state of confusion, therefore it laughs. The laughter is uncontrollable, so even tho we're not enjoying it, we can't stop laughing.

Socially, we have made it into a positive interaction, and some do find it socially fun. But the act itself will still trigger our brain to go into defence mode. When the tickler don't stop when we say stop, people can quickly get quite angry. The tickler will then get confused bc "we were just laughing and having fun a second ago?"; but the person has been in a mindset of "stop stop stop stop" and "get off get off get off get off" and their communication not being understood, so ofc it'll then trigger an angry defensive reaction.

---

Hmmmm.

A lot of information don't reach the actual brian, but get processed at the stem. The stem can then decide the appropriate reaction and give that info back to the nervous- and hormone system; our two ways of communication!

---

A simpler fact that I personally enjoy a lot, is that our brain (and eyes) hiiighly favors glukose as energy source. The two organs crave it (and oxygen) so much; when we study and generally challenge our brain, we use up a lot of the glukose. That's why we often get snacky and want sweets like chocolate! We gotta make up for what we used.

Fun fact about schools in Norway! (If your teacher isnt an uneducated prick!) When we have big tests that last for hours at the midway and end of some schoolyears, and would be the only thing that day: our teachers will tell us to bring candy, soda, fruit, and whatever else kind of substance we want basically (that aren't loud or really smelly, like chips and popcorn for example). They know students focus better and does better when we have access to sweet snacks, and food in general. It's got something to do with stimulating our body bc we're sitting still for so long, as well as smth to do with giving our brain the energy it craves as it's being drained. Yay Norway!

---

Our brain is so weird and so fascinating!! Thanks to the biology classes I took, I can store these weird facts in my brain, along with some not as cool facts like..

..being able to explain the whole digestive system along with the whole urinary system. When I say whole, I mean from the very start to the very end with every detail down to the molecules.

The reason I mention this is bc I kinda hate how that's one of the few things my brain actually fully understood AND fully remembers. "Oh you took biology, that's interesting! What's some cool bio facts?" "Uhh here's how shit and piss is made..?"

It also makes me facepalm so hard when certain dumbasses drink their own piss and say "its good to get it back into your body".. like hun you clearly have no idea how the body works, even on a basic level.. XD

the concept of cuteness aggression is so funny. awww you're adorable I need to hurt you

[revelboo]

Got my first blokees! Got 8 mystery boxes, and only wound up with 1 set of repeats (I got 2 of b-127!)

Nice! They’re a bit addictive!

Anything For You Pt 5

Rung x Reader

• Watching him absently patting around on his desk, you sigh and push the part he’s fumbling about for into reach. And he’s picking it up without noticing to fit it into place, so engrossed in his model space ship he’s oblivious to everything else. “I’d like you to sit in on my sessions. Some bots are more amenable to talking to me with a little distraction,” he murmurs, reaching to remove and polish the weird glasses shielding his optics and whenever he takes them off, it changes him. Goes from bumbling nerd to serious and almost handsome in an alien way. Why does an alien robot even need glasses?

• “Do I look like a therapy dog to you?” Voice angry, your eyes narrow and he sets his glasses down. Didn’t mean it that way at all, but you’re so defensive, you’re looking for a fight. “Just because your last person was willing to play pet for you, doesn’t mean I will.” Person. You’ve done that a few times, putting emphasis on that word. Instead of saying human. Making it clear in your mind you’re compartmentalizing him and the other Cybertronians as not people. As other.

• “My last assistance wasn’t a pet,” he says, frowning at you and gesturing with his glasses. “More of a distraction. You’re so cute to some Cybertronians that when you ask innocent questions, it doesn’t come across as prying.” Snorting at that, your lips twist. So more of a tool than a pet. Does he really think that distinction makes it better?

• “So you guys think we’re cute?” Smiling faintly as you wrinkle your nose at him, he wonders how he can answer without offending you. You’re so ready to argue and fight. Like you can’t relax at all, can’t trust that he’s not a threat to you. Must be exhausting to be on guard all the time. Constantly afraid and hiding it with attitude. How thick are your defenses? You’re talking to him at least more or less civilly. That’s progress.

• “Some do.” Replacing his glasses, he reaches for the next part of his model, turning it over in his servos. “You’ve noticed our similarities, I’d assume. Uncannily similar facial features and bodies,” he adds, spreading the servos of his other hand. Five like your own fingers. “Even our facial expressions are the same. And that doesn’t just happen. Your strange, little species are like eerily organic, tiny Cybertronians in form. It’s unsettling.” Leaning back at his admission, you eye him. You’d noticed those things and your brain had just ignored them, hadn’t bothered to question them. But now that you are? It’s kind of creepy how much they are like you.

Previous

[cosmiclily]

‘cause i hate to wait so long

★vi x f!reader

part one

wc: 4.9k

cw: hurt/comfort

notes: tried my best to make the transition to the end smooth, and i liked how it turned out, kinda get vi on an astronomical level on this fic lol 🫢

It had been a great weekend. The two of you traveled to see your parents, and as always, your mom loved Vi. Sometimes, you swore she liked Vi even more than she liked you. Every time you called to say you were visiting, she asked what dessert Vi wanted and happily made it just for her.

Being back in your hometown meant running into old friends—and with old friends came old flings.

But even though you and Vi had to stand through a thirty-minute conversation with your high school ex in the middle of a bakery, you thought everything was fine. Vi hadn’t seemed particularly bothered at the time, so when you got back home and she started acting off, you assumed it was something else. Probably work.

She had been sharing a studio with some new guy who got on her nerves, and you had heard her complain about indecisive clients more times than you could count.

You weren’t worried.

Not at first.

But then, the little things started piling up.

She left your messages on read for days. She made excuses to avoid staying the night. She canceled plans at the last minute.

And now, standing in her studio, watching her avoid your gaze, you knew.

“Vi,” you started carefully, hands shoved into your pockets, “is there something you want to talk about?”

She shrugged, still not looking at you. “I don’t know. You’re the one who came over unannounced.”

Her tone was flat, detached, and it sent an uneasy feeling crawling up your spine.

“I came over because you’ve been acting weird,” you said, voice steady, but your heart was anything but. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I want to know why.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, but still wouldn’t meet your eyes. “It’s nothing. Just work stuff.”

But you knew her. And this wasn’t just work stuff.

So you took a step closer, crossing your arms. “Vi.”

Vi finally looked at you then, and something flickered in her expression—something tired, something unsure.

“What?” she asked, her tone sharp, irritated.

You ignored it. You weren’t sure what was happening, and the last thing you wanted was for this to turn into a fight if it didn’t have to.

“Just tell me the truth,” you said, voice careful but firm. “Please.”

She exhaled sharply, her jaw tightening, fingers curling into fists at her sides.

“I…” She looked away, shaking her head. Then, quieter, “Do you miss her?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your ex,” she said, voice clipped. “You know, the one we ran into last weekend.”

You frowned, utterly confused. “Miss her? Vi, what the hell are you talking about?”

Vi let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her hair. “She just seemed so... put together,” she muttered. “Talking about her medical degree, how she wanted to travel the world. And I don’t know, I just thought—” She cut herself off, shoulders tensing. “I just thought maybe you should be with someone like her.”

Your head jerked back like she had slapped you.

“Are you serious right now?” You scoffed, a disbelieving laugh escaping before you could stop it. “Vi, you hate when people put words in your mouth, and now you’re doing the same damn thing to me?”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m just saying it makes sense! She has her shit together, she knows exactly what she wants in life, she doesn’t—” She stopped, jaw clenching so tight you could see the muscles twitch.

“She doesn’t what?” you pressed, stepping closer. “Say it.”

Vi hesitated, then finally snapped, “She doesn’t come with all the baggage I do, okay?”

You stared at her, stunned.

“This again?” Your voice was rising now, frustration boiling over. “Vi, do you ever get tired of pushing me away before I can even think about leaving?”

“I’m not pushing you away!”

“The hell you aren’t!” You threw your hands in the air. “Every single time we get close, really close, you find some reason to run. And now? Now you’re making up some bullshit excuse about my ex to convince yourself that I’d be better off without you?”

Vi’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t deny it.

You let out a humorless laugh. “Unbelievable. You know what, fine. If that’s what you really want, if you actually think I’d be happier with someone else, just say it. Say you don’t want me.”

Silence.

You crossed your arms, your jaw tight with frustration. “Go on. Say it, Vi.”

Her eyes burned as she snapped back, her voice rising. “You know you would!” She let out a harsh breath. “It’s not an opinion, it’s a fact! I’m not good for you! You just said it yourself—I keep finding reasons to push you away. Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t hear the shit my own mind tells me every single day?” She let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe we should just end this now. Before either of us gets hurt.”

That did it.

Your anger flared, white-hot, because how dare she?

Like you weren’t already hurting.

Like you weren’t already attached.

Like your mom didn’t greet her with a smile and a homemade chocolate cake every time you visited.

“You always say that,” you spat, voice shaking. “Like it’s some kind of mercy. Like you’re doing me a favor. Before we get hurt? Vi, I’m already hurt!”

She flinched, but you didn’t stop.

“I have never once doubted my feelings for you. Not for a second. But you? You doubt everything. You push me away and then act like it’s inevitable. Like you’re just sparing me from some big, tragic heartbreak when the only person breaking my heart right now is you.”

Her breathing was ragged, hands clenched into fists at her sides, but she didn’t interrupt.

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, blinking against the sting in your eyes. “You know what? Fine. If you think this is the right thing to do, if you really believe I’d be better off without you, then I won’t fight you on it anymore.”

You turned, yanking open the studio door. But before you stepped out, you hesitated—just long enough to deliver one last blow.

“Hope you’re finally free from me.”

And then you walked out, slamming the door behind you.

There were a lot of things in life you weren’t sure about.

Like whether the degree you earned was what you actually wanted to do for the rest of your life. Or what you were going to have for dinner. Or if you’d ever figure out how to fold a fitted sheet properly.

But you were sure about Violet.

You were sure she was the love of your life.

You were sure that one day, you would marry her. That you’d grow old together. That maybe—maybe—you’d even have kids, even though that was one of the things you weren’t sure about.

Even with everything life threw your way, you were sure about her.

But sometimes, love isn’t enough.

No matter how much you give, no matter how patient you are, no matter how many times you try to show them—I’m here. I’m not leaving. Please, just let me love you!—it doesn’t always work.

Because love is a two-way street, and if one person keeps building walls instead of bridges, eventually, you run out of ways to reach them.

You had tried. God, had you tried.

You stayed through every storm, through every fight, through every moment she tried to push you away. You picked up the pieces when she shattered, even when it meant cutting yourself on the shards.

But there’s only so much a person can take.

There are only so many times you can be pushed away before you finally stay away.

And as much as you hated proving her right, after the hundredth time she told you to leave—you did.

And it was the worst pain of your life. Worse than that time you tried to ride your pink bicycle down a hill and broke both of your arms. Worse than any heartbreak you’d ever imagined.

Because she was supposed to be your forever.

──────────────────────

Vi would be lying if she said that after your awful encounter at the coffee shop, she didn’t wait for you to call her—maybe to yell at her some more, to say all the things she knew she deserved to hear.

Because even if that was the only thing she could get from you, she would take it.

Anything was better than the silence.

But you didn’t call. You didn’t text.

And she understood why. She wasn’t stupid. If she didn’t try, you couldn’t keep trying for her.

She just didn’t know how.

Vi had spent her whole life in survival mode—fighting, running, enduring. She knew how to throw a punch, how to take a hit, how to push people away before they could hurt her first.

But feelings? Talking? Healing?

She didn’t know what any of that looked like.

So she did the only thing she knew how to do.

She screwed things up a little bit more.

Yes, resorting to drinking wasn’t healthy. No, it wouldn’t solve her problems. But it would make them go away for a while, and right now, that was all she needed.

That’s how she found herself in the nearest nightclub she could find, a whiskey glass in her hand, watching as colorful lights flashed around her. The bass pounded through her chest, drowning out the thoughts she didn’t want to deal with.

“Rough night?”

Vi barely turned her head as some random red head slid into the seat next to her at the bar. She was pretty, in that effortless kind of way, with a confident smirk that told Vi exactly what she was after.

“You could say that” Vi muttered before downing the rest of her drink.

The girl leaned in, her fingers ghosting over Vi’s bicep. “Well… maybe I can make it better.”

Once upon a time, Vi might have taken her up on that offer. A distraction, a warm body, something to make her forget for just a little while.

But the only touch she craved—the only lips she wanted—weren’t here.

Vi sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Not tonight.”

The girl pouted, but she didn’t push. “Suit yourself.”

As she walked away, Vi signaled the bartender for another drink. Because if she couldn’t have you, she could at least have the illusion of feeling something.

──────────────────────

You were woken up by the sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand. Groaning, you reached for it without much thought, still half-asleep.

“Hello?”

At first, all you could hear on the other end was breathing—slow, uneven.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

A beat of silence. Then, a voice you hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Can you open your door, please?”

Vi.

You sat up instantly, now fully awake. “Vi? What are you talking about? It’s three in the morning.”

“I just—” A loud thud echoed through the phone, followed by a muffled, “Fuck.”

Your brows furrowed. “Vi, what the hell was that? Where are you?”

“I just need to talk to you” she mumbled, her words slightly slurred. “Please. You can yell at me all you want, I just… I just want to hear your voice.”

You ran a hand down your face, exhaling sharply. “Are you drunk right now? Seriously?”

Silence. Then, barely above a whisper—

“Yeah.”

You closed your eyes, gripping the bridge of your nose. The last thing you wanted was to let her back in after everything, after the pushing and pulling, after the damage she’d done. But a bigger part of you—the part that still ached for her, that never stopped worrying—was already swinging its legs out of bed and heading for the door.

You cracked it open, and there she was.

Vi stood in your doorway, hood up, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket like she was trying to make herself smaller. Even in the dim glow of the hallway light, you could see the exhaustion in her face—red-rimmed eyes, the way her shoulders sagged like she was holding the weight of the world.

“You look like shit” you muttered.

She let out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah. Feels like it too.”

You should’ve slammed the door in her face. You should’ve told her to go home, sleep it off, leave you alone.

Instead, you stepped aside.

“Come in.”

And she did, wobbling slightly as she walked in.

She looked so out of place in your living room. The red jacket she always wore stood out against the neutral tones of your space—like a warning sign, like a memory that never quite faded.

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way your heart clenched at the sight of her. “What do you want, Vi?” You didn’t even try to mask the exhaustion in your voice. “Why are you here?”

She exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face before finally meeting your eyes for the first time since she arrived.

“I don’t know” she admitted, voice rough, unsteady. “I was supposed to go home. I was going home, and then I just… got here.”

You let out a sigh. “That’s not an answer.”

Vi winced, shifting on her feet like she was struggling to find the right words. But words were never her strong suit, were they? She had always been better with actions—though most of them were reckless and self-destructive.

She ran a hand through her hair, sighing. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

You clenched your jaw, looking away. That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t fair.

After everything she’d said, after everything she’d done—after making you leave—she still expected you to be here, to pick up the pieces when she was falling apart.

"You don't get to do this, Vi” you whispered, barely trusting your voice. "You don’t get to throw me away and then show up at my door like I’m supposed to fix you."

Her breath hitched. "I know. I know, and I’m—" She hesitated, the words getting stuck in her throat. "I fucked up, okay? I fucked up so bad, and I don’t know how to fix it."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking away the sting behind your eyes.

"But I want to…"

You could count on one hand how many times you'd seen Vi cry. And most of those times had been involuntary—after waking up from a nightmare, lost in the haze of half-conscious panic, when her body betrayed her before her mind could shut it down.

But now, she was standing in your living room, crying. Her shoulders shook, and she wiped furiously at her eyes, like she was trying to erase the evidence of her own weakness.

"I've said it before, but it's true this time. I promise." Her voice cracked—raw, desperate. "And you can yell at me all you want. You can throw every awful thing I said back in my face, because I would rather have you angry at me than this." She sucked in a shaky breath. "Being apart hurts. The silence is killing me.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to steady yourself. This isn’t fair.

"You think I wanted to leave?" you asked, voice quiet but firm. "You think I wanted to spend nights wondering if you were okay, if you were sleeping, if you were eating? Do you know how many times I almost called you?"

Vi's lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

"I loved you, Vi. And I spent so much time trying to prove to you that I wasn't going anywhere. But no matter how much I tried, you never let me in."

"I was scared" she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know" you said. "I know. And I still tried. But you made me believe that I was never going to be enough for you."

Vi took a step closer. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" you asked, shaking your head. "You were scared I would leave, but you were the one who kept pushing me away. Over and over again."

Vi exhaled shakily, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

"I want to be better," she said, her voice raw with emotion. "I don’t want to keep running. I don’t want to keep ruining things." She looked at you, her expression open—vulnerable in a way you weren’t sure you'd ever seen before. "And I don’t know if I deserve another chance, but if there’s even the smallest part of you that thinks I do…"

She hesitated.

"Then I’ll spend every day proving to you that I can be better."

Your heart felt like it was being crushed. You loved—love—Vi. You always have, and you probably always will. But feeling so insecure, so scared all the time that you would wake up one day and she would just decide this was over, made you think twice.

"I… I love you. I really do." Your voice wavered as you let out a humorless laugh. "You were the only thing I was ever certain about in my life. You were my forever."

Vi took a step closer, her breath hitching. "I still am…"

"How can I be sure?" Your voice cracked, anger and exhaustion mixing into one. "How can I know that you won’t wake up one day and decide that I’m too good for you? That you don’t deserve me? Or some other crazy shit your brain makes you believe—and just leave? Do you have any idea what that would do to me?"

Vi flinched, guilt flashing across her face.

As much as you tried not to be angry—because she was drunk, because she was vulnerable—you were only human.

"I know you're scared" you said, your voice tight. "I know you think you aren’t worthy of my love. But have you ever stopped to think about how I feel?"

She stayed silent.

"When you look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m just like everyone else? That I’ll leave? That I’ll hurt you?" You shook your head, your nails digging into your palms. "Do you think so little of me?"

Vi's lips parted, but no words came out. All she could do was stare at you, her blue eyes filled with regret, sorrow, and something deeper—something she wasn’t sure how to voice.

And for the first time, maybe ever, you saw it hit her. The weight of what she had done. The hurt she had caused. The damage she had left in her wake.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of her own emotions. Quiet tears still flowed down her face, unchecked. “I’m sorry I hurt you so bad, but I promise I’ll be better. I promise I’ll do anything and everything in my power to never make you feel like that again.”

You let out a deep breath, the anger you felt still simmering in your gut.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Your voice was tired, drained. “When you’re sober and I’m not angry anymore?”

Vi nodded, quickly, almost desperately. And the look in her eyes made you doubt everything all over again. It was like she had this power over you—one puppy dog-eyed look and you were gone.

But you couldn’t let that sway you. Not again.

“You can sleep on the couch” you said, turning away before she could break you down any further. “I’ll get you some blankets.”

Vi stood there for a moment, watching you disappear down the hall. She wanted to convince you that she meant it this time. That she wasn’t going to run, wasn’t going to push you away again.

But after everything she had done, after all the times she had broken your heart—what right did she have to ask you to believe her?

So she didn’t. She just sat down on the couch, burying her face in her hands, listening to the sound of you rustling through the closet.

Hoping—praying—that when morning came, you’d still listen to her.

──────────────────────

You didn’t sleep. You spent the whole night tossing and turning in your bed, too aware of the woman in your living room, too aware of the decisions you had to make. The weight of it all pressed down on you, the endless cycle of pushing and pulling, of loving and hurting. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes, then the hours, as your mind ran in circles.

You tried to convince yourself that it was simple. That love should be enough. If you loved each other, you should just betogether—happy, whole, like life was a perfectly wrapped gift waiting to be opened.

But life wasn’t a fairytale, and love wasn’t always the answer.

That was never the question in your relationship. You knew Vi loved you. And she knew you loved her. But love alone couldn’t erase the damage, the doubts, the nights spent wondering if she would hurt you again. Love couldn’t fix the way she closed off the moment things got hard, or how you were always left picking up the pieces.

You turned onto your side, pressing your face into the pillow with a frustrated sigh. Sleep wasn’t coming—not when your mind was a storm of thoughts crashing into each other.

Lying there, restless, wasn’t helping. So you got up, dragging your feet to the kitchen. Maybe a cup of coffee would bring you the clarity you needed, even if it meant breaking your self-imposed caffeine ban.

You had just poured yourself a mug when a voice made you jump.

“I thought you were trying to quit coffee.”

Vi stood at the kitchen entrance, her hair a mess, eyes still heavy with sleep. In the dim morning light, she looked softer—almost like the Violet you used to know, before everything fell apart.

“Yeah, well,” you muttered, wrapping your hands around your mug for warmth, “I couldn’t sleep, so I kind of need this right now.”

You took a sip without thinking, the heat grounding you for a moment—until your eyes landed on the words printed on the ceramic.

World’s Best Girlfriend.

Your stomach twisted. She had gotten it for you on your birthday, grinning as she handed it over, laughing about how “cheesy” it was. At the time, it had been a joke. Now, it felt like a cruel reminder of everything you had lost.

Vi’s gaze flickered to the mug in your hands, and for a second, you thought you saw something break behind her eyes.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to act normal, pretending it didn’t sting as much as it did. You gestured toward the cabinet. “You know where the mugs are if you want some.”

She hesitated, her fingers twitching at her sides. “Yeah… okay.”

She moved across the kitchen, opening the cabinet with an ease that shouldn’t have felt so natural anymore. As if she had never left. As if she still belonged here.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating, but neither of you knew how to break it.

So you just stood there, eyes locked, memories playing like an old film reel in your mind.

You remembered the time Vi tried to bake you a cake for Valentine’s Day, how the middle was still raw, and you both ended up eating the edges with spoons, laughing the whole time. You remembered that one New Year’s Eve when you sat on the kitchen floor, eating instant noodles and drinking cheap champagne because the party you were supposed to go to had been a bust. You remembered the lazy mornings, the soft kisses, the way she used to sneak up behind you and wrap her arms around your waist as you made coffee.

But you also remembered the fights. The slammed doors. The cabinets shut with a little too much force. The nights spent crying, feeling like the love you had wasn’t enough to keep her.

Vi exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of her neck. “Do you remember that time you got a little too invested in sourdough and kept trying to make a starter? And you read somewhere that keeping it in a warm place helped, so you left it in the oven?” She gave you a small, lopsided smile. “But then you forgot about it and preheated the oven for something else, and the house smelled like burned bread for a week?”

A surprised laugh burst out of you, unbidden. “God, yes.” You groaned, shaking your head. “And then you made it worse by trying to air it out with a box fan, but all it did was spread the smell into every room?”

Vi chuckled, her shoulders relaxing just a little. “In my defense, I thought it was a solid plan.”

You snorted, taking another sip of coffee. “It was a terrible plan.”

The moment lingered, stretching between you like a fragile thread. For a second, it almost felt like things were normal, like the past few months hadn’t happened.

But they had.

“I miss you,” you whispered, barely audible, like you were afraid of the words themselves—afraid she would hear them, afraid she wouldn’t. “I missed you every single second.”

Vi sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers twitching at her sides, like she wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if she was allowed to.

You set your mug down with a quiet clink, steadying yourself. You were done crying. You had spent too many nights crying over this already.

“And I spent the whole night weighing the pros and cons of this relationship. I just…” You swallowed, gripping the edge of the counter. “I’m so scared, Violet.”

Your voice cracked on her name, and Vi flinched like you had physically struck her.

“I know,” she murmured, her gaze never leaving yours. “I am too.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? We’re both too scared. Scared to lose each other, scared to stay, scared that loving each other won’t be enough.”

Vi took a hesitant step forward. “But I don’t want to be scared anymore,” she admitted, her voice unsteady. “I don’t want to keep pushing you away just because I think it’s easier than letting you stay. I just—” she exhaled, shaking her head, “I just need to know if there’s even a chance. Even the smallest chance that you’ll give me one more shot.”

You stared at her, at the woman you had loved for so long, the one who had broken your heart and was now standing before you, asking for another piece of it.

And the worst part?

You wanted to give it to her.

So you nodded, hesitantly, barely daring to breathe. “I don’t want to regret this, Vi. I’m exhausted from this push and pull. But I love you too much to let you go.”

Vi’s lips parted slightly, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Then, slowly, a smile broke across her face—small, hesitant, but real.

“Maybe it’s a little selfish. Maybe I’m insane” you admitted, exhaling shakily. “But yes, I’ll give you one more chance.”

Vi let out a breath she had been holding, something like relief flashing across her face. “I won’t waste it,” she swore, stepping closer, cautious but hopeful. “I swear on—” she let out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head, “on every bad decision I’ve ever made, I won’t waste it.”

You arched a brow. “That’s a lot of bad decisions, Vi.”

She laughed, and the sound was so familiar, so her, that your chest ached. It was the same laugh that used to fill your apartment, the same one that made you fall in love with her in the first place.

“Yeah, well… I guess I have a lot to make up for.”

You studied her for a long moment, searching her face for any sign of doubt, any crack in the resolve she was promising you. But all you found was sincerity—raw and unfiltered, painted across her expression in a way that made it impossible to doubt her.

So, once more, you let yourself believe her.

And when she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around you, you let yourself melt into her.

Like you always did, like you always would.

Her grip on you was firm but not desperate. Not like she was afraid you would slip away—more like she was certain she wouldn’t let go this time. Her fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, her face tucked against your shoulder, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she breathed.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a single moment of peace.

“But I’m still mad at you,” you muttered, your voice muffled by her body against yours.

Vi let out a breathy chuckle, the sound vibrating against you. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I’d be mad at me too.”

She didn’t try to defend herself, didn’t try to justify the things she had done. She just held you, letting the weight of everything settle between you.

And somehow, despite all the pain, all the uncertainty—she knew, deep in her bones, that everything was going to be okay.

──────────────────────

[writesvani]

dear me | 05

lawyer! jungkook x privatechef! reader

SUMMARY: Once upon a time, Jungkook and you were everything. Best friends who shared every moment, every secret—except one: you were in love with him. But life changed. High school ended, real life began, and slowly, you drifted apart, the distance between you growing too wide to cross.

The end. Except it isn't.

One day, after a long day at work, you open your email to find a message from 13 years ago—written by your younger self. A letter you’d forgotten, sent by a service you paid to remind you of your youth, your love for him. As the emails keep on coming and you keep reading, the flood of memories hits you, and you realize something heartbreaking: you never stopped loving him.

But now, it’s too late. Jungkook is about to marry someone else. Or is he?

estranged childhood best friends-to-friends-to-lovers?

TRIGGER WARNINGS (for this chapter): unrequited love, misunderstandings, unresolved feelings, angst, smoking, alcohol consumption, crying, feelings of abandonment, longing, emotional breakdown, strained friendships

comment here for Dear Me taglist;

SERIES M.LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter (pending...)

wc: 3,3k // date: 1st of April 2025

CHAPTER FIVE — Us & immaturity; happy reading my gummies...

AN: listen, i literally CRIED like a baby writing this. like, what even is this? wtf did i just write? i’m literally breaking my own heart over here. like if i could step into this fic, i’d kick myself in the shins for writing this, but also hug myself because this is perfect??

anyways, new goal for the next chapter is 400 notes because y'all insane gummies reached the last goal in LESS THAN 48 HOURS and it made me question both my eyesight (like am i seeing this right? did i accidentally write 250 comments myself?) and my sanity. love you all, but also, what have i done to my brain? anyways, enjoy, i guess? and please, if you ever see me sobbing while writing, don’t call the authorities.

also, i’m AWARE that this chapter is shorter, BUT IT NEEDS TO BE OKAY? don’t question it. next chapter is a 7-8k word BEAST, so i hope that fuels your souls and prepares you for the emotional disaster that’s coming. you’re welcome (or maybe you’re not?).

Alex is the kind of person who makes you question your life choices—whether it’s with his sharp words or the shots he keeps sliding across the bar, it really doesn’t matter. Either way, you’re fucked.

The world around you is a hazy swirl of reds, yellows, and blues, the neon lights of The House bleeding together in your vision like an abstract painting you’re too drunk to interpret. The music pulses through your bones, a steady thrum in your ears, but all you can focus on is the lightness of the glass in your hand and the way your mind feels just a little too hazy.

After the absolute disaster that was the “Jungkook proposed to you” fiasco, Alex,the absolute mastermind he is, in his infinite wisdom, decided to make it up to you all the only way he knows how—by getting every single one of you completely, utterly shit-faced.

Yoongi didn’t want to drink anything besides beer—refusal might be the better word for it—but Alex, being the sly fox that he is, somehow convinced (read: manipulated) him into going for whiskey. That alone would’ve been fine, but now, poor Yoongi has somehow ended up steaming his throat with a hellish mix of tequila, vodka, and Red Bull. And the boy is drooling.

He’s slouched over the bar, hair a mess, strands sticking to his forehead, hands awkwardly propping up his cheeks like they’re the only thing holding him upright. Nina isn’t faring any better—downing shot after shot with the same reckless determination, her twin brother’s misery mirroring her own.

Jungkook, in all his supposed glory, decided to steer clear of the weird mixes. Instead, the genius opted for Devil’s Ice Tea. Nuh uh. The cocktail is made of seven different liquors, and it’s absolutely wrecking him. His fingers twitch against the bar, his hand slipping every so often, forehead softly bumping against the surface in a slow, pathetic rhythm.

You’re no better than the rest of them. Your head is practically glued to the bar like a stain that refuses to be wiped away, the alcohol swirling in your system making it impossible to lift yourself up. You try—desperately—to pry your eyes open, to do something. But everything is hazy.

Somewhere in the background, you hear Alex yell, "One more round, on the house!" (quite literally), and somehow—somehow—Yoongi and Nina manage to cheer in response, following him with the same weird enthusiasm.

When you somehow succeed in fluttering your eyelashes open, your vision is still swimming, unfocused. But then—there. A pair of eyes. Watching. Reading. Observing.

Jungkook is looking at you.

His face mirrors yours—cheek pressed against the bar, eyes heavy-lidded from exhaustion and alcohol. But unlike you, he’s turned directly towards you, fully absorbed, gaze unwavering.

Somewhere deep inside, the rational part of you is screaming. Move. Turn away. Say something. But the alcohol coursing through your veins is a bitch. And the bitch screams back. No. Stare.

So you do.

“Hey.” His voice is barely a whisper, but even through the daze, you catch the way his irises flicker, searching. For what, you don’t know.

“Hey,” you answer, lips tugging into a lazy half-smile.

Silence.

The world keeps moving around you. Yoongi and Nina are cackling at something—probably something stupid. Glasses clink. Cheers erupt. Alex slides fresh drinks in front of you both, the sound of glass meeting wood barely registering. But through it all, there’s one thing you feel the most.

The weight of Jungkook’s stare. The slow, rhythmic pounding of your heartbeat—against your ribs, in your ears, in your throat.

He murmurs something.

You don’t catch it. Not when the new band has decided to bless the entire bar with ear-shattering music that will surely leave you half-deaf for the next decade.

But then—he says it again.

“Missed you.” His speech is slurred, but the words cut clean through the noise, sharp and certain.

For a second, it feels like you’re twelve again. Like he’s telling you a secret—one that isn’t meant to be spoken aloud anytime besides this very moment.

Your brain struggles to catch up, to formulate a proper response. “Mm,” you manage, blinking sluggishly. “Did you?”

Jungkook swallows. “Yeah.” A pause. “A lot.”

And there it is.

You exhale.

“I missed you too, you know.”

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Jungkook sings, his voice climbing a few octaves higher than before, yet still quiet—just for you.

Your brows twitch. The movement sends a dull throb through your skull, but the alcohol numbs it, drowning the sensation in warmth. "Huh?" Your words come slow, heavy on your tongue. "You calling me a liar?"

"Mhm." His cheeks puff slightly, lips curling into a teasing grin. "I am."

"Well, I'm literally not lying."

"Uh-huh. Suuure."

Your groan is exaggerated, exasperated, as you tilt your head back against the bar. "What's wrong with you?" You shift, sitting up, ignoring the way your spine protests. The weight of intoxication drags at your limbs—and so does the way Jungkook is looking at you.

You reach for the shot Alex placed in front of you, the liquid burning as it slides down your throat. Jungkook watches, then follows suit, but instead of a shot, he takes a slow sip of his cocktail, lets it linger, destroying his senses sip by sip.

"Nothing," he muses, swirling his straw between his fingers. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. I just said I missed you too."

"I caught that," Jungkook says, voice smooth, laced with something unreadable. "I just said I don’t believe you."

Your gaze narrows. "And why is that, Mr. I’m so different from everyone else I just had to get a different drink?"

Jungkook smirks, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek before he leans in slightly, eyes dark.

"Because you don’t care.”

Something inside you twists, claws its way up your ribs, settles in the hollow of your chest. You blink.

You don’t care?

The audacity. The sheer recklessness of those words, slicing through the air like they aren’t flaying you open, one heartstring at a time.

You don’t care?

Your lungs seize. Your eyes scan him, searching, dissecting. Looking for the punchline, the telltale glint of a joke, anything to soften the blade he’s just shoved between your ribs. But there’s nothing. No teasing curve to his lips, no flicker of mischief in his stare. Just honesty. A brutal, unwavering honesty that makes your stomach churn.

Your fingers twitch. The craving sets in—a familiar itch crawling under your skin, something to settle your nerves. Your hand moves on instinct, sliding into your pocket. Relief washes over you as your fingers trace the shape of the pack. Thank God.

“I’m going for a smoke,” you mutter, ignoring his words entirely. You push yourself off the stool, movements sluggish, dizzy. You don’t wait for a response. You just flee.

You burst through the doors, the air outside slicing against your skin. The rain has left the walls damp, and when you lean against one, the cold seeps through your clothes, but you don’t care.

The cigarette is between your lips in seconds, fingers shaking as you light it. The first inhale drags the tension from your body, slowing your pulse, dulling the edges of the night.

It doesn’t work.

Your heart still pounds like a trapped bird. Your fingers still tremble.

"Didn’t know you still smoke."

The voice behind you is low, cutting through the night like a blade. You jump, nearly choking on the next inhale.

“You don’t?” you shoot back, your voice sharper than you intended.

"Not anymore," he mutters, his footsteps cutting through the quiet. He comes to a stop beside you, leaning back against the wet wall as well.

You glance at him, cigarette between your fingers. "When’d you quit?"

"A while ago. Senior year of college, I think."

"Huh. Had no idea."

Jungkook scoffs. "Yeah, well... not like you know a lot about me anymore."

Your jaw tightens. "Gee, I wonder whose fault that is."

"Me too," Jungkook shoots back, voice edged with something sharp. "Because it sure as hell isn’t mine."

You turn to face him fully now, narrowing your eyes. "Are you accusing me of something?"

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "God forbid."

"No, you definitely are." You take a slow drag of your cigarette, exhaling through your nose. "Why’d you even follow me out here, Jungkook?"

He hesitates, then sighs. "Because I wanted to talk."

You scoff. "Well, you’ve got a funny way of talking"

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Can you not be so damn immature for once?"

Now, that actually makes you laugh. "Wait, I’m the immature one?" You take a step closer, tilting your head. "You’re the one playing games, dancing around whatever the hell you actually want to say."

He ignores you. Completely. Like you never even spoke.

"You know, those things will kill you one day," he mutters, eyes flicking to the cigarette you’re holding.

"Oh no, a girl has hobbies," you deadpan, taking another drag.

"Smoking isn’t a hobby. It’s a death wish."

You huff out a laugh. "Then I guess it’s a lifestyle choice."

"A shitty one."

"One I prefer," you bite back, exhaling smoke. "Now quit stalling and just say what you wanted to say."

A second passes. Then another. It stretches, lingers, turns wild between you—until finally, he speaks.

"Why’d you stop calling?"

His words hit harder than they should, threading through your pulse, setting your nerves on edge.

Your forehead creases. "What?"

"When we—when I... Why didn’t you ever call me?" His voice is quieter this time, uncertain.

You stare at him, lips parting, but nothing comes out.

"Because you stopped, Kook." His nickname rolls off your tongue, but it feels foreign now—like you’re not sure if you still have the right to use it.

Something flickers across his face, the way you use his nickname stirs something in his chest. He exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "I felt like I was the only one trying, you know?" His gaze stays locked somewhere past your shoulder, like looking at you would be too much. "So I stopped. I wanted to see if you’d reach out. If you’d call, text—anything." His jaw tenses. "But you didn’t."

The heaviness of his words settles in your chest, pressing down, making you feel smaller, like the air around you is closing in.

"I thought you moved on," you finally manage, voice barely above a whisper. "With your life. Your new friends. College. I didn’t think I fit into your world anymore.”

Jungkook feels like someone’s been feeding him stones, each one sinking deeper into his gut. His limbs feel heavy—partly from the alcohol, partly from how close you’re standing, and partly because, for the first time, he wonders if he really did ruin everything.

He never saw it that way. Never thought you felt like a burden. Never imagined you thought you didn’t fit into his life anymore. Because if there was one thing he used to be sure of, it was that the two of you fit together effortlessly. A twin flame, or whatever those TikTok gurus call it nowadays.

"There was always a place for you in my life," he says, fingers twitching at his sides. Unsure if he should reach for you. If touching you would make this easier or worse. "You always belonged, you know."

You exhale sharply, moving your head just enough to meet his eyes. "I didn’t feel that way."

Something in his chest tightens.

"You were always busy, Kook. Always studying, or out drinking, or with people I didn’t know, or with Nina. And whenever we did talk, it felt like we had nothing in common anymore. Like I was just… annoying you."

Jungkook blinks, stunned. "Yeah? Well, I felt like a dumb kid next to you. You had a real job, real connections, a boss and everything. And every time we talked, I—I don’t know. It felt like you were dreading it. Like you’d rather be asleep than deal with me."

He lets out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Like I was the one bugging you.”

"You weren’t bugging me," you say, but your voice is fragile, stretching into a slight pitch. You know this feeling. And you hate it.

Because you know what’s coming.

"The best part of my day was talking to you," you whisper, and it feels like a confession, like something torn straight from your ribs.

Your eyes burn. You try to fight it, to hold back the flood, to keep yourself from breaking open in front of him. But the weight of it all crashes into you, relentless. The tears come anyway. First, a slight sting at the corners of your eyes, then a single drop. Then another. And then they pour, slipping down your face, soaking into the frizzy air between you.

You hate this. Hate that you’re standing here, unraveling in front of him, hate that after everything, he can still crumble you to pieces.

You swipe at the tears with the sleeve of your jacket, desperate to make them disappear, to pretend like you’re still the person who can walk away from this.

Jungkook moves before you can stop him, closing the space between you in a heartbeat. His arms wrap around you, and fuck, you let him.

You don’t resist. You don’t even hesitate. You just fall.

And he catches you like he always used to.

His scent—jasmine and cinnamon, tangled in something unmistakably him—fills your lungs, and it hurts. It hurts because it’s familiar, because it reminds you of all the nights you stayed up talking until the sun rose, of laughter shared through phone screens before everything went down, of a time when none of this was broken.

How did you let it get this bad? How did you let so much slip away?

"Shh, don’t cry," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair, his voice so unbearably gentle that it only makes you cry harder. His arms tighten around you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You squeeze your eyes shut, a sob escaping your lips.

Your cigarette slips from your fingers, hitting the pavement with a quiet hiss.

"I'm sorry," you choke out, the words slipping through the cries that shake your entire body. "I’m so sorry."

Jungkook holds you tighter, and you can feel it—how hard he’s clenching his jaw, how his breath stutters against the top of your head. He’s trying so hard to keep it together, but you know him. You know he's on the edge of crumbling just like you are.

"I should’ve tried harder," you whisper, your voice cracking under the harsh truth of everything you lost.

"No," he says, and it comes out rough, like it's been ripped from somewhere deep inside him. "I shouldn’t have made you feel like you didn’t belong. I never—never—wanted to lose you."

Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt, desperate, like holding on to him could somehow rewind time, undo all the ways you let each other slip away.

"It’s not your fault," you say, collapsing further into him, into the warmth of his arms.

"It’s not yours either," he murmurs, his voice barely more than a breath. But you can hear it—the break in his tone, the pain he’s trying to swallow down.

You squeeze your eyes shut, because if you look at him now, if you see him hurting the way you are, you’ll fall apart completely.

And somehow, at the exact same moment, the reality crashes into both of you—life altering, soul shattering, devastating in its simplicity.

It’s no one’s fault.

It was never about blame.

Life had happened, pulled you apart, twisted and bent you in different directions until the distance between you became something neither of you knew how to close. And instead of fighting against the current, you let it carry you away from each other.

Jungkook exhales a breath, then lets out a short, bitter laugh. “We’re so fucking dumb.” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been holding back too much for too long.

A small, fragile smile tugs at your lips, barely holding against everything playing out on your chest. “Stupid dumb,” you agree, your arms flexing around his body, holding him tighter, as if that could somehow undo all the lost years.

He’s so warm—the kind of warmth that seeps into your bones, settles beneath your skin, and makes a home there. The kind of warmth you’ve longed for in silence, in the dead of too many lonely nights.

And still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

You want to paint this moment into eternity. Let the imprint of his arms linger on your skin, write it onto the walls of your heart so you’ll never lose it again. You want to stay in it, fold yourself into this closeness and never have to remember what it felt like to be without it.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

Jungkook inhales deeply. His nose brushes against your temple, his arms pulling you in like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you. He lets you stay like that, buried beneath his embrace.

Lets you linger in his arms the way you’ve lingered in his heart for a lifetime.

"Me too. Too much," you admit. God, this isn’t enough. It will never be enough. You want to be underneath his skin, stitched into him by invisible threads that ensure you’ll never lose him again. That this is forever. It has to be.

When you finally pull apart, you’re breathless—like he’s taken something from you, stolen the air from your lungs along with the warmth of his touch. You stare at him, like he’s a shrine you’ve been praying to daily, like he holds every answer you’ve ever searched for.

"So," you cough out, cheeks still wet, voice laced with awkwardness. You don’t know what to say anymore.

"So," he exhales, stuffing his hands into his pockets like they’re the only thing keeping him from reaching for you again.

"What’s new, Kook?" you chuckle, forcing lightness into your voice, the remnants of his embrace still clinging to your skin.

"Well for starters, I'm getting married," he says, voice airy, head tilting to the side like he’s studying you, waiting for your reaction.

You laugh. Instinctively. Reflexively. Because what else is there to do? Because, finally, he is the one saying those words to you, not that stupid, perfect envelope sitting in the drawer of your desk.

"Congrats, best friend."

"Thank you, best friend," he echoes, smiling, oblivious—or maybe pretending to be.

He pauses. Hesitates. Then, "And I have a request to make," he adds, voice still so light, so casual, so goddamn unaware of what he’s about to do to you.

"I want you to be my best man—or best woman, whatever."

The moment shatters.

Oh.

Oh.

Your breath catches in your throat. You blink, once, twice, waiting for the words to make sense, to rearrange themselves into something less cruel.

But they don’t.

Jungkook is still standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, waiting—like he didn’t just hand you the sharpest knife and ask you to draw a smile with it.

You swallow, forcing down the lump in your throat.

"Yeah," you murmur, barely recognizing your own voice. "Of course. I'd be honored.”

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[women-in-ssports]

ONESHOT

Full Court Press

Azzi had barely been at Pine Creek High School a week when she found herself on the basketball court, a new jersey on her back, and all eyes on her.

She had expected nerves, but instead, she felt something steadier: excitement. The ball felt natural in her hands, the gym sounded the same no matter what city she was in, and when she locked eyes with Paige across the court, there was an unspoken understanding.

“Let’s see what you got, new girl,” Paige had said before the scrimmage started, her voice dripping with challenge.

Azzi had just smiled. “Don’t blink.”

What followed was effortless. Paige played loud—quick movements, flashy handles, constant chatter—but Azzi was smooth. She didn’t have to be loud to be heard. Her game spoke for itself.

They fed off each other. Paige would drive into the lane, and Azzi would slip into open space for an easy pass. Azzi would steal the ball, and before she even looked, she knew Paige would be sprinting up the sideline, ready for the outlet pass.

By the end of practice, their coach clapped them both on the back. “You two together—dangerous.”

Paige just grinned, spinning the ball on her finger. “Yeah,” she said, glancing at Azzi. “Guess she’s not bad.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

The problem was, Paige had a roster.

She didn’t date—Paige wasn’t the dating type. She flirted. She entertained. She kept people interested just enough but never enough to get tied down. It was fun, it was easy, and it kept things simple.

But Azzi? Azzi wasn’t part of the plan.

Paige found herself acting different around her—softer, maybe. She didn’t mean to. It just happened.

Nika had noticed first.

“You have a problem,” she had said one day after practice, watching as Paige stood a little too close to Azzi during drills.

Paige scoffed. “I don’t have problems. I create them.”

Nika raised an eyebrow. “Right. So you acting like a normal human around Azzi isn’t a problem?”

Paige had opened her mouth to argue, but then Azzi had turned to her, smiling in that way that made her dimples stretch, and Paige forgot how to be a functioning person for half a second.

Yeah. It was a problem.

It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal.

Just a party at some senior’s house, music too loud, people packed into every room, and Paige in her element. She moved through the crowd like she owned it, one hand brushing someone’s arm, a quick wink thrown across the room—effortless.

Azzi didn’t really do parties, but Caroline had dragged her out, and somehow, she ended up standing next to Paige, both of them laughing at something dumb KK had just done.

Then Paige had leaned in close, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear.

“You having fun?”

Azzi turned, and for the first time, she noticed how blue Paige’s eyes were up close. How they flickered down to her lips, just for a second.

Azzi’s heart did something weird.

She ignored it. “Yeah,” she said, her voice steady.

Paige smiled, slow and knowing.

And then it happened.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t planned. It was just—Azzi turned her head at the same time Paige leaned in, and suddenly, their lips met.

It was soft. Quick. But enough.

Enough for Azzi to realize she was in trouble.

Enough for Paige to pull back, eyes wide, for once at a loss for words.

Enough to change everything.

It had been an accident.

A stupid, completely unintentional, entirely avoidable accident.

That was what Azzi kept telling herself every time her brain replayed it—which was more often than she wanted to admit.

Paige hadn’t meant to kiss her. Azzi hadn’t meant to kiss Paige. It just… happened. A wrong turn of the head, a misstep, a moment too close in a loud room.

So, she ignored it.

She went to practice like nothing had happened. She laughed with Paige, played basketball with her, walked past her in the hallways without a second thought.

And Paige? Paige didn’t seem to care. If anything, she seemed more like herself than ever—loud, flirty, completely unbothered.

The next game, she showed up with some new girl on her arm.

And then at the next home game, a different one.

Azzi rolled her eyes every time she saw it, but she told herself she didn’t care. That was just Paige. That was what she did. It had nothing to do with Azzi.

So when the baseball player started talking to her—Luke, tall, tan, nice enough—she didn’t hesitate when he asked her out.

Paige didn’t get jealous.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

So when she saw Azzi walking across campus with Luke—his arm slung lazily over her shoulder—Paige told herself she wasn’t annoyed.

When Azzi laughed at something he said—dimples deep, head tilting toward him—Paige told herself she didn’t care.

And when she watched Azzi kiss him outside the gym one afternoon, she told herself she wasn’t furious.

Her roster got smaller after that. Not on purpose. It just… didn’t feel fun anymore.

Nika noticed. “You’re slipping,” she teased.

Paige just shrugged. “Guess I got bored.”

Nika gave her a look. Paige ignored it.

The party was packed, music blasting, people spilling out onto the front lawn.

Azzi had come with Luke, but almost immediately, she regretted it. He had been drinking too much, too fast, and by the time she tried to pull him away, he was sloppy and leaning too close.

“Luke, slow down,” she said, pushing lightly at his chest when he tried to kiss her. “You’re drunk.”

“So?” He smirked, grabbing at her waist.

“I don’t want to,” she said, firmer this time.

Luke rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t be like that—”

Azzi pushed him back, and that’s when it happened.

It wasn’t hard, not enough to knock her over, but his hands shoved her just enough that she stumbled a step backward.

“Seriously?” she snapped, her heart hammering.

“Azzi,” he sighed, reaching for her again.

But he never got the chance.

Because suddenly, Paige was there.

She didn’t hesitate—one second, Luke was standing there, and the next, he was being yanked backward, Paige’s fist twisting in his shirt.

“Get the hell away from her,” she spat.

Luke stumbled, caught off guard. “Chill, it’s not—”

“I swear to God, if you say it’s not a big deal, I’ll knock you out right here,” Paige said, voice low, furious.

Luke lifted his hands. “Whatever.” He turned and disappeared into the party.

Paige turned to Azzi. “You okay?”

Azzi swallowed hard, nodded. “Yeah.”

“Come on,” Paige said, grabbing Azzi’s hand. “We’re leaving.”

Azzi didn’t argue.

She didn’t even look back.

Paige didn’t say anything for the first few minutes.

Neither did Azzi.

The only sound was the hum of the engine and the faint buzz of music from the radio.

Finally, Azzi let out a breath. “Thanks for that.”

Paige kept her eyes on the road. “Of course.”

Azzi studied her, the sharp angle of her jaw, the way her fingers tapped against the steering wheel.

She hesitated. “Why’d you do that?”

Paige glanced at her, then back at the road. “Do what?”

“Come get me.”

Paige’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Because he was being a dick. And because…” She sighed. “Because it’s you.”

Azzi’s stomach flipped. She ignored it.

They didn’t say anything else the rest of the drive.

They weren’t supposed to be drinking, but Paige had grabbed a bottle on the way out of the party, and now they were passing it back and forth on Azzi’s bed, Frozen playing in the background.

They weren’t drunk. Just… tipsy. Just enough for everything to feel a little too warm, a little too easy.

Azzi let out a breath, staring at the ceiling. “Why do you have such a big roster?”

Paige snorted. “What kind of question is that?”

“A real one.”

Paige was quiet for a second. Then, “I don’t know.”

Azzi rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand. “That’s not an answer.”

Paige sighed, rolling her eyes. “What do you want me to say?”

Azzi shrugged. “The truth.”

Paige hesitated. “I guess… it’s just easier that way.”

Azzi frowned. “Easier than what?”

Paige didn’t answer.

Azzi didn’t push. Instead, she smirked. “What’s your type, anyway? None of those girls look alike.”

Paige let out a breathy laugh. “You know.”

Azzi’s heart jumped.

Paige meant her. She had to.

But then Paige looked away, the moment slipping. “Just… a pretty girl.”

Azzi swallowed, forcing herself to breathe normally.

Paige turned, tilting her head. “What about you?”

Azzi hesitated, then smirked. “Blondes.”

Paige huffed a laugh. “I could’ve guessed that.” Then, after a beat, she added, “Maybe try a new type, since that one got fucked up at a party tonight.”

Azzi’s lips curved. “Not all blondes are bad.”

She looked at Paige then, really looked. Deep brown eyes, so close.

Paige swallowed hard, eyes wide.

Azzi’s heart pounded.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

But something shifted.

Something neither of them could ignore.

Something neither of them were ready for.

Basketball took over everything.

Pine Creek was rolling through their season, picking up wins, and heading into the playoffs with momentum. Practices were intense, film sessions felt longer, and every game felt bigger than the last.

Paige and Azzi were at the center of it all.

Their chemistry on the court was undeniable. They didn’t even have to speak half the time—Azzi knew where Paige would be before she got there, and Paige always seemed to find Azzi in the perfect spot.

It wasn’t just skill. It was instinct.

“Y’all are scary,” KK joked after a game, watching them bump fists after another win. “Like, do you have a mind link or something?”

Paige smirked. “I just know where she’s gonna be.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled.

Their coach couldn’t stop praising them. “Best guard duo in the district,” she told reporters after a game. “They make each other better.”

And off the court?

Something was shifting.

Azzi wasn’t talking to Luke anymore. That had ended the night of the party, and she hadn’t looked back.

Paige didn’t have a roster anymore. She didn’t remember when she had stopped, just that one day, she realized she hadn’t flirted with anyone in weeks.

And they were spending a lot of time together.

Like—a lot. More than normal. More than they ever had before. They didn’t really notice, though. They just—hung out.

Stayed late after practice, working on shots.

Drove home together.

Watched film side by side.

Sat together at team dinners, their chairs pulled just a little too close.

It felt natural. They didn’t think about it.

Their friends, though?

Their friends definitely noticed.

“You guys realize you’re like… obsessed with each other, right?” Nika said one day after practice.

Paige choked on her water. “What?”

Azzi blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Nika looked between them, unimpressed. “You two are always together.”

“So?” Paige shrugged. “We’re teammates.”

Nika snorted. “Yeah, sure. Just teammates.”

KK grinned, throwing an arm around Azzi’s shoulders. “You don’t think it’s kinda funny how neither of you are talking to anyone else lately? Not even a little bit?”

Azzi frowned. “We’ve been busy with playoffs.”

Caroline, who had been watching the whole conversation like she knew something they didn’t, just smirked. “Right. Basketball. That’s the only reason.”

Azzi felt her stomach flip.

Paige suddenly really needed to tie her shoe.

But neither of them denied it.

And their friends just exchanged looks, like they knew exactly where this was going before Paige and Azzi even had a clue.

Because maybe, just maybe—this was more than basketball.

They just hadn’t figured it out yet.

The weeks leading up to state had been the same as always—practices, late-night talks, moments that lingered just a little too long—but nothing had really changed between them.

Sure, they cuddled a lot. Sure, they talked every day, about everything.

But there was no kissing. No hand-holding.

So they definitely weren’t a couple.

At least, that’s what they told themselves.

But then the game before state happened.

They won. It was a tough game, but they pulled through, securing their spot in the state championship. The gym was electric, teammates screaming, coaches cheering.

Paige should’ve been riding the high of the win.

But then, a girl—someone from their school, someone Paige had flirted with before—came up to her after the game.

“You were insane out there,” the girl said, smiling, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Paige, still buzzing from the adrenaline, grinned. “You know me.”

The girl laughed, stepping closer. “Maybe I should get to know you a little better.”

Paige hesitated.

She thought about Azzi.

About their conversation earlier with their friends, about how Nika and KK kept teasing them, about how something had felt different lately.

And she didn’t want to think about it.

So she did what she always did.

She flirted back.

“Maybe you should,” she said, smirking.

Wrong move.

Because across the gym, Azzi saw it happen.

And for the first time, she felt something she couldn’t explain.

Her stomach twisted. Her jaw clenched.

Her blood boiled. She was mad. She didn’t know why. She had no right to be. Paige could do whatever she wanted.

But the thought of Paige smiling at someone else like that, letting someone else lean in, letting someone else into the space that had felt like hers for weeks now—

It made her furious.

And instead of waiting for Paige like she always did, instead of riding home with her like usual, Azzi turned and walked straight to Caroline.

“Can you take me home?” she asked.

Caroline raised an eyebrow, glancing toward Paige, who was still talking to the girl.

Then back at Azzi.

“Yeah,” she said. “Of course.”

The car ride was quiet at first.

Caroline didn’t push. She just let Azzi sit there, fuming, staring out the window like she was trying to figure herself out.

Finally, Caroline spoke. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

Azzi exhaled sharply. “I don’t know.”

Caroline gave her a look. “Try again.”

Azzi closed her eyes for a second, then blurted, “I think I have feelings for Paige.”

Caroline didn’t react. Just nodded. “Yeah. I figured.”

Azzi’s head snapped toward her. “What do you mean you figured?”

Caroline let out a soft laugh. “Azzi, you’ve been glued to her for months. You look at her like she’s the only person in the room. And tonight, when she was flirting with that girl? You looked like you wanted to punch a wall.”

Azzi groaned, leaning her head back. “But I’ve only ever liked guys.”

Caroline shrugged. “Okay. And?”

Azzi blinked. “And… what if this is just a weird phase? What if I’m just confused?”

Caroline smiled, soft and knowing. “Are you?”

Azzi hesitated.

Because deep down, she knew the answer.

And it terrified her.

Paige let the girl down easy.

She hadn’t even meant to flirt back, not really. It was just habit.

But when the girl asked for her number, Paige hesitated.

And that was when she knew. She didn’t want to do this anymore. She didn’t want a roster. She didn’t want distractions. She wanted— Her stomach flipped. She wanted Azzi.

By the time she turned to look for her, Azzi was gone.

Her usual spot, waiting by the locker room? Empty.

Paige frowned, scanning the gym. “Where’s Azzi?” she asked.

Nika, who had been watching everything unfold with sharp, knowing eyes, crossed her arms. “Caroline took her home.”

Paige’s heart dropped. “Why?”

Nika gave her a pointed look. “She looked upset.”

Paige’s throat tightened.

She had messed up.

And for the first time, she had no idea how to fix it.

By Monday, everything felt off.

State was in a week. School was supposed to be about classes and basketball—nothing else. But Azzi couldn’t stop replaying Saturday night in her head.

She hadn’t texted Paige.

Paige hadn’t texted her either.

And for the first time in months, Azzi had no idea where they stood.

She didn’t dare bring it up, though. She sat with Caroline at lunch, stuck to her routines, and acted like nothing had changed.

But everyone noticed the shift.

And by the time practice rolled around, it was obvious that whatever was going on between Paige and Azzi was affecting everything.

Paige and Azzi were always in sync. That was their thing.

Not today.

Paige threw a pass too early—turnover.

Azzi cut the wrong way—turnover.

Their usual give-and-go? Completely off.

It wasn’t just them, either. The whole team felt the energy shift, and it showed. Missed shots. Sloppy defense. Coach was not happy.

“What the hell is wrong with you guys today?” she snapped after another bad possession.

No one answered.

But their friends had an idea.

And they were not about to let this ruin their shot at a championship.

After practice, KK, Nika, and Caroline exchanged looks.

“This is bad,” KK muttered.

“Really bad,” Nika agreed.

Caroline crossed her arms. “We can’t go into Friday like this. If they don’t fix whatever this is, we’re done.”

“So what do we do?” KK asked.

Nika smirked. “We fix it for them.”

Caroline nodded. “Intervention. Wednesday. After practice.”

KK grinned. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

They had two days to get Paige and Azzi back on track.

Whether they liked it or not.

By Wednesday, the tension between Paige and Azzi was unbearable.

They still weren’t talking like they used to. Sure, they spoke when necessary—calling plays, responding to teammates—but the effortless rhythm, the teasing, the easy laughter? Gone.

And the team felt it.

Coach had been frustrated again at practice, and even the younger players were whispering about how weird things felt.

KK, Nika, and Caroline had had enough.

So when practice ended and everyone started heading to the locker room, they struck.

“Paige, Azzi—stay.”

Paige, who had been about to grab her bag, froze. “Huh?”

Azzi blinked. “Why?”

Caroline sighed like she was dealing with children. “Because we said so.”

KK clapped her hands. “Team meeting. Just us. Come on, let’s go.”

They led them into the empty auxiliary gym, locking the doors behind them.

Paige crossed her arms. “Okay, what is this?”

Nika smirked. “An intervention.”

Azzi frowned. “For what?”

KK threw her hands up. “For you two acting like you don’t know each other all of a sudden! We have state in two days, and y’all are throwing everything off!”

Caroline nodded. “We’re fixing it. Right now.”

Paige and Azzi exchanged a look, both clearly uncomfortable.

“What do you want us to say?” Paige finally asked.

Nika raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe why you guys have been acting weird as hell since Saturday? Why you won’t even look at each other half the time?”

Azzi sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is,” KK said. “You guys just don’t wanna admit it.”

Paige ran a hand through her hair. “Admit what?”

Caroline stared at them like they were being dense on purpose. “That this is more than basketball.”

Silence.

Paige swallowed hard. Azzi shifted uncomfortably. Neither of them spoke.

KK groaned. “Oh my God, just say it! Paige, you like Azzi. Azzi, you like Paige. Boom. Easy.”

Paige’s mouth opened, then closed.

Azzi’s heart pounded.

Nika tilted her head. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Neither of them did.

Caroline softened. “Look, we’re not trying to force anything. But this… whatever this is? It’s hurting the team. It’s hurting you two. And we care about you.”

KK nodded. “We’re not saying you have to figure it all out tonight. Just… be honest. With yourselves and each other.”

Paige exhaled, finally looking at Azzi.

Azzi met her gaze, something unspoken passing between them.

Maybe they weren’t ready to say everything out loud.

Maybe they still didn’t know everything.

But for the first time in days, Paige smiled—just a little.

And Azzi smiled back.

Nika clapped her hands. “Finally. Now, can we please win state?”

Paige smirked. “Obviously.”

Azzi chuckled. “Yeah. We got this.”

And just like that, the weight between them started to lift.

There was still a lot to figure out.

But at least now, they weren’t pretending nothing was there.

And for now, that was enough.

As soon as their friends left the room, Paige turned to Azzi with a cocky grin.

“You like me?” she teased.

Azzi rolled her eyes, arms crossing over her chest. “Oh, please. You like me more.”

Paige smirked. “You dropped your boy toy for me.”

Azzi raised a brow. “And you dropped your entire roster.”

Paige opened her mouth to fire back, but Azzi’s smile faltered—her mind drifting to the girl from the game last week. Paige noticed instantly.

Shifting on her feet, Paige’s expression softened. She hesitated for only a second before gently reaching for Azzi’s hand, intertwining their fingers and pulling her in until they were just inches apart.

“Nothing happened,” Paige said quietly, her voice steady but sincere. “Yeah, she flirted with me. And, yeah… I flirted back at first. But when she asked for my number, I couldn’t do it—because I realized I didn’t want her.”

Paige took a slow breath, squeezing Azzi’s hand.

“I wanted you.”

Azzi’s heart skipped. Paige’s blue eyes darkened as she searched Azzi’s face, waiting—hoping—for a response.

Finally, Azzi exhaled. “I shouldn’t have just left like that,” she admitted. “I should’ve told you why. I just got… overwhelmed, and I didn’t know why.”

Silence stretched between them, the air thick with something unspoken.

Then Azzi took a small step forward.

Paige did the same.

Azzi’s eyes flickered down to Paige’s lips for just a second—just long enough for Paige to notice.

Before Azzi could react, Paige closed the distance, her lips crashing into hers.

Paige’s lips crashed into Azzi’s, and for a split second, neither of them moved.

Then, like something clicking into place, Azzi melted into the kiss.

Paige’s hands found Azzi’s waist, pulling her in, and Azzi’s fingers curled around Paige’s hoodie, gripping tightly like she was afraid to let go.

This wasn’t an accident.

This wasn’t a drunken mistake at a party.

This was real.

And it changed everything.

When they finally pulled back, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.

Paige let out a shaky laugh. “Okay. So that happened.”

Azzi bit her lip, trying to fight back the smile that was creeping in. “Yeah. It did.”

Paige’s hands were still on her waist, thumbs brushing gently over the fabric of her jersey. “So… now what?”

Azzi looked into those deep blue eyes—eyes that had been driving her crazy for months now.

She exhaled.

“We win state.”

Paige grinned, dimples showing. “And after?”

Azzi smiled. “We figure it out.”

Paige laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. “Sounds like a plan, princess.”

Azzi groaned. “Paige.”

Paige just laughed, pulling her in again.

This time, the kiss was slower.

Softer. Like a promise.

State was in two days.

And suddenly, Azzi wasn’t worried about anything—except the girl in front of her.

The gymnasium was packed, the roar of the crowd deafening, but all Azzi could focus on was the sound of her own heartbeat as the final buzzer echoed.

They did it. They won.

It felt unreal, like everything had come full circle in a single, perfect moment. Paige was grinning from ear to ear, her arms wrapped around Azzi in a bear hug as their teammates swarmed them.

“State champions!” KK yelled, holding the trophy high above her head, and the rest of the team cheered.

Azzi laughed, her heart full.

And through all the chaos and celebration, Paige’s eyes found hers.

Their team was jumping, hugging, and shouting, but for a moment, it was just the two of them.

The celebration didn’t stop at the gym. After all the trophy hoisting and team photos, Paige turned to Azzi with a mischievous smile.

“So,” she said, leaning in a little closer. “You wanna make this official now? Or you wanna celebrate more?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to skip the after-party for… you?”

Paige smirked. “You can come with me if you want, but there’s one thing I’ve been thinking about for a while now.”

Azzi’s heart skipped. “What’s that?”

Paige leaned in, her voice softer now. “A real date. Just you and me.”

Azzi smiled, her nerves settling. “I think I’d like that.”

They went to a quiet diner, away from the noise and crowds. It was the kind of place where they could just be themselves, the weight of the world gone for a while. The conversation flowed easily, just like it always did when they were together. They talked about the game, their team, their future.

But as the night went on, Azzi realized she felt something more than just excitement. She felt right.

With Paige.

As the night came to a close, they stood outside the diner, the cool evening air a sharp contrast to the warmth of their conversation. Paige was leaning against her car, her hands shoved into her pockets.

Azzi stood in front of her, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Azzi said softly.

“Me too,” Paige replied, her voice low, eyes never leaving Azzi’s face.

For a second, the silence was heavy.

Then Paige’s grin faded into something more serious, her blue eyes searching Azzi’s.

“Azzi,” she started, taking a step closer, “I don’t want to wait anymore. We’ve been dancing around this for so long, and I…” She paused, swallowing. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Azzi’s breath hitched. Her heart raced as she stared into Paige’s eyes.

“I—” she paused, her words barely there. But the smile that spread across her face was all she needed to say.

“Yes.”

Paige’s face lit up, and she pulled Azzi into her arms, kissing her softly.

“Finally,” Paige whispered against her lips.

And as they stood there, the world faded away. It was just them, their victory, and the promise of a future together.

[radlovesfics]

Tbh this is all over the place and took me so long to get out skjfksjfjdk sorry in advance

need poly couple Eve/Mark/Reader so fucking bad I feel like it has so much potential FUCK

So like, maybe you’re childhood best friends with either Mark or Eve going to the same school and everything but to make this more coherent we’ll go with Mark

Growing up as next door neighbors and developing a huge crush on this loser when you’re both in middle school. When you realize what’s happening, you do everything you can to stamp it down and act like nothing changed. Mark is so entirely oblivious it’s genuinely painful!!

this continues for years with no sign from Mark that he reciprocates so you just resign yourself to being the supportive girl best friend who’s there for him no matter what. cheering him on for amber and all!! then you meet Eve!!

You encounter her randomly in school and become fast friends and really close. You don’t know anything about her other identity or powers but it’s not like that gets in the way. You enjoy having a close female friend for once. She’s just so easy to talk to and so helpful and nice and so pretty to look at also she smells so good and you can’t stop staring at her- FUUUUCK. You catch these gay ass thoughts while probs staring at her in class looking stupid and smitten. Id also like to think you don’t talk about Mark with her unless you’re just ranting about him doing stupid shit. You don’t want to fester on Mark not liking you back and you want to force yourself to move on and have fun with your only girl friend. Eve has NO idea you’re in love with him. anyway !!

just like your feelings with Mark, you ignore these too! especially since you’re unaware if she’s even into girls :( you thankfully have a lot of experience in hiding your feelings so Eve is none the wiser. I feel like the only person to know you even have any crushes at all is William, but he’s a ride or die bro he’s got you he ain’t snitching but also he is going to die from how stupid the three of you are

anyway!! back to mark :)

You’re there for him throughout all the good and the bad that keeps happening to him, even when you start to see less and less of him with his newfound responsibilities. Eve is still around but still somewhat barely. That’s when you notice Eve and Mark start interacting in school!! mainly when you’re not around, only because Eve and him are talking about superhero stuff and she hasn’t revealed who she is to you yet. You’re a little put off and hurt by it bc the second you approach the two of them they start acting weird. You do your best to ignore it bc as far as you’re aware, Marks into Amber and it’s not illegal for your two friends to be friends haha this doesn’t bother you at all to be left out nope oh shit they broke up?? Uhhhhh

This doesn’t mean he forgets about you seeing as how you’re the first person he goes to once he starts dating Eve. This is also how you found out about her hero identity bc Mark’s so excited to talk about it. He ofc realizes after he gets done gushing to you about her and freaks out, but you’re just. Staring. Absolutely world rocked rn. Finding out two of your closest friends (that you have a MASSIVE thing for) are together, just about does you in. Mark’s found someone who you know is one of the most beautiful and wonderful women you have ever met. Eve is with the most perfect and sweet handsome guy who you’ve known your entire life and you know for a fact he’s amazing. They have so much in common you will never relate to and clearly understand each other on a level your normal civilian self cant. They’re perfect together, is what logic tells you so how could you NOT be happy for them? It kills you inside but maybe this is what was always meant to happen. You could never stand beside these two in a way that matters.

You start pulling back from interacting with the two of them, just heartbroken and miserable but feeling so selfish for these feelings. You feel like a horrible person and start kinda avoiding the two of them. Helps that they’re already SO busy they don’t notice. You don’t blame them, they’re literally superheroes. Ofc they’re gonna have more important things to deal with right?

Mark and Eve do actually start to notice !! There’s a very big you shaped hole missing and it doesn’t click for them until they see you again but not under the best circumstances.

Idk what exactly but there’s some kinda massive attack that happens and you’re caught in the crossfire. it’s BAD. I’m not sure if maybe they save you during this attack or if they find out what happened later and seeing you so hurt and vulnerable as they stand beside your hospital bed or as you’re being held in their arms after rescuing you, something shifts. They still don’t understand it exactly but they realize you’re their best friend and they haven’t been exactly the best friends back. So obvs they have to fix this

They start to see you more often after this incident and you’re stuck in the mindset that it’s a pity thing. To make sure you’re safe and don’t need saving. Mark and Eve just missed their bestie :( and now they’re being so clingy??? Your heart can’t take it.

I think maybe Eve realizes she feels differently about you first bc she’s more self aware and only brings it up after seeing Mark interact with you. She clearly sees him act the way he has towards her to YOU. Mark is in denial at first but once Eve points it out to him he can’t stop thinking about it. He’s so stupid!!! He’s super apologetic to Eve and like rambling until she shuts him up like “Mark, it’s fine. Honestly feelin’ the same. “ they both have a long and healthy conversation about it !! Final result is wanting to include you in the relationship but they don’t know if you feel the same or even want to be in a poly relationship. so obvs they gotta figure that out !!

Mark and Eve start flirting heavy!! Well. As well as Mark can bc we know that man is awkward asf but it’s so cute and endearing <333 They’re being hella clingy, always wanting to talk to you and hang out. In uniform and out tbh. More free with physical touch, practically hanging off of you at some points. They’re often bringing you little gifts from wherever they’ve just traveled to or taking you on little flights. Mindlessly compliment you, Mark fumbling with his words awkwardly and Eve just being suave as fuck. They are being so blatantly obvious and yet !! You have no idea !!!

You’re actually going insane. You don’t understand why they’re acting the way they are and think they’re either messing with you or just see nothing wrong with what they’re doing. Maybe they know you like them and are just teasing your poor self. It’s hurting you and confusing you bc you’re trying so hard to move on from them but they’re just everywhere all the time !!! You complain to William about it and he tries conveying this shit to Eve and Mark but they’re kinda dumb about you tbh.

One day, you’re hanging out with the two of them and idk the context but Eve hugs you with a kiss on the cheek and Mark swoops in for a group hug, talking about how much he loves “his girls”. They do this so naturally and without hesitation you finally snap and burst into tears, shoving them off of you. You yell at the both of them about how cruel they’re being and to just stop teasing you like this. You’re a mess, telling them off for obvs knowing how much you like them and they’re just making fun of you. You’re sobbing as you tell them it’s so painful to love the two of them when they don’t love you and their friendship with you is making it harder for you to stop. You’re just dumping years of pent up longing on them now. How you’ve felt, how it’s been to be their third wheel or on the sidelines for so long. I love you both so much but every time you touch me like this I die a little inside every time. I’m so happy for you two and your relationship but I can’t do this anymore. “

At the end of your confession, Mark and Eve are like. Bug eyed staring at you bc oh. William might have been right 😔 (never fuckin question William guys cmon)

Their silence and the looks on their faces make you realize what you just did and immediately you panic. You turn to run away bc oh god you fucked up now they know and they hate you and think you’re insane and a weirdo and you’ve ruined your friendship with both of them and-

Your erratic thoughts stop the second you feel a hand on your wrist and suddenly you’re being smothered into Mark’s embrace and Eve’s hand is on your shoulder, both of them staring at you with the most tender and loving expression.

You’re alarmed and want to push them away but Mark’s “Thank god” breathed into your hair as he hugs you close stops you. He ofc takes a step back to face you properly but doesn’t go too far nor does he stop touching you.

Eve is the one to explain how they both feel about you and what made them realize they had both felt this way for a long time, they were just too stupid to realize. They apologize to you, not knowing you had felt that way for so long and wishing they knew sooner. You start crying again as they explain and they think this is you rejecting them, thinking THEYRE the weird ones for both of them liking you and wanting to include you in the relationship.

These fears vanish the second you throw yourself into them, crying and so so happy. Telling them you love them and giggling as they sandwich you in a hug, pressing kisses all over your face and saying the same back.

Your insecurities ofc cause you to step back at times and ask them how could they love you when you’re just…. Regular ole you.

“We love you, because you’re you. “ You’re their best friend, their family, their lover. You’re there for them at the end of a hard grueling day. You’re there when they just want to be the ones taken care of, when they’re stressed or depressed and need something soft and sweet to remind them being a hero isn’t all their lives amount to. You’re their sense of normal and peace. With you, they’re just Mark and Eve and it’s perfect :)