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h5eavenly · 10 hours ago

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Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

Twenty-four - a little of me, warnings: slight mention of death and descriptions of grief etc..

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You had woken up feeling awful. It doesn’t really come as a surprise not when these exact moments have been recurring like daydreams that you somehow swim through with a hazy mind and aching limbs. It all started with a slight cough and a runny nose at the beginning of the week, nothing that was too hard to handle for you. The weather was starting to turn crueler, your clothes layered more, thicker in fabric so when you woke up the very next day completely fine you had guessed that the seven cups of tea you had dawned throughout the previous day had surely done their magic.

You were so wrong.

Your body had decided to collapse on you in the middle of the day. Dizziness sneaking into your mind as if you weren’t just running away from Sunghoon with a laughter so loud you were sure you were gonna turn someone deaf. Thankfully Jake was nowhere around to see you and as Sunghoon was fanning you while you lied down on one of the dressing rooms couches you had made him swear not to tell a soul about it – given his love to announce everyone’s news like they’re his own.

So, it didn’t take you long to figure out there’s definitely something wrong with your body, perhaps it was exhaustion yet no matter how many hours you manage to drown in sleep nothing seems to be helping. You make a mental note to get a checkup thinking it might be an iron deficiency or something along these lines.

And yet each day you open your eyes there is something else wrong with you. be your aching body or a scratch in your throat you can’t seem to cough. It’s torture and it feels like your body keeps toying between the line of being sick and healthy, not sure where to lean into more.

“Jesus. You look awful.” Sunghoon comments as soon as you meet him in front of the elevator.

“Yeah, what the fuck is wrong with your face?” Sunoo adds from beside him with a look of unrestrained disgust etched into his face.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence guys.” You reply with a roll of your eyes, sniffling as you walk into the elevator, and they follow while the cold seems to trail as quickly swirling through the space, and you tighten your arms around your shaking body.

You should have taken a painkiller before leaving your apartment.

“Do you even have makeup on?” Sunoo asks, his disgust is washed away by a look of pure worrisome instead. Although the way it’s directed at you somehow feels offensive rather than warming.

“Yeah. I have concealer on.”

“Yikes.” Sunghoon coughs.

“Maybe you should try a different brand. You know something that actually covers your dark circles” Sunoo pouts, his eyebrows knitting in what seems to be pity as his hand rubs your shoulder soothingly. It takes a few counted seconds for you to register his words. The insult sneaked into it has rancor slipping into your feature just as vast as you squint your eyes at him.

“Are you worried about me or the brands of makeup I use?”

“Your makeup. Duh.” Sunoo rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone and Sunghoon snickers from beside you.

You think you’re aware that you don’t look your best. Although to be quite honest you’re not as worried about your face as how the state of your body is stamping its anxiety deep within you. You don’t get sick often, make sure to take care of yourself in that sense at least and the thought of being home, cuddled up in your bed with a snotty nose and a pounding headache isn’t very exciting and nor do you wish for that to happen.

You’re really praying to every fucking god that exists you’re not actually falling sick.

You’ll be fine though – or at least that’s what you think. That’s what you keep praying for -

Please god please please please!!

At this point you have had your fair share of showing up to work half a mess a day then fully got it together the next day so a few of perturbed coated comments from Sunoo and Sunghoon aren’t gonna bother you too much.

However, it does get to you when you’re face to face with Jay and Soojin - who seem to have tagged along after the two of them sharing a breakfast together - You don’t think Jay has ever been this surprised or is he horrified? While looking at your face as he is right now. You blink at him and as his stare stretches a second too long you wonder if you have grown a third arm in the time you walked from the elevator.

“Oh, you look...” he crosses his arms, his eyes sweeping over your figure as he tilts his head. As if finding a word to describe your state is harder than it appears to be “not every good.” He settles with. Cringing at himself or at you. You’re not very sure of anything anymore.

“For fuck’s sake guys okay! I look like an ugly duckling I get it!” you exaggeratingly whine throwing both of your arms in the air as if it expresses your distress and throw yourself onto the couch with a dry sob and bury your face into one of the pillows. Nor your cry or attempt to suffocate yourself with the awful scent of fake leather seem to be working nor gaining you any grain of commiseration because Sunghoon starts cackling from behind you. Almost as clamorous as your sob.

“Aww yn. Don’t mind these silly boys. They’re just being dumb.” Soojin coos gently, sitting down next to you and turning you on your back and you welcome her with a pout that probably does resemble an ugly duckling.

“Like always.” She adds, raises an eyebrow at Sunghoon who shuts up almost immediately, his face turns expressionless in the blink of an eye, and he pretends to be busy examining the snack table. That is empty. while Jay looks away from you. With an awkward scratch to his neck, you could almost detect the wheels in his head finding error in his words.

“Are you sick?” She asks, tone much softer and clement as she moves her hand up and down your arm. You could stare back for a few silent minutes, mouth slightly agape at the power Seo Soojin seem to contain with merely existing.

You don’t think you could ever make Sunghoon shut up this quickly even with the presence of weapons nearby (not that you’ve ever tried. You definitely would never do such a thing).

“I think I’m just a little tired.” you reply, remembering to close your mouth when it feels too dry.

“You don’t look a little tired though.” She rests the open of her palm on the skin of your forehead and you shiver “thankfully, you don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I do have a bit of a headache.” You say, sitting up probably when you almost feel your body slipping down the couch.

“Maybe you should head home.” She rubs your shoulder soothingly.

“And do what?”

“Rest.” Soojin blinks at you slowly as if the dumbest question has just tumbled out your mouth. You wonder if you have managed to lose braincells while growing a third arm.

“Oh, I’ll be fine don’t worry. Besides, I probably have so much to do and- “Soojin doesn’t even let you finish turning her head away from you towards Jay. Yet her palm remains. It’s warm against your shoulder in contrast to how freezing the weather outside is.

“Jay, does yn have anything urgent today?”

“Not really. Jake’s schedule is very light these days and I could pretty much handle it on my own.” The response comes immediately that you have trouble keeping up, eyes darting between the two.

“Great!” she turns to face you again; a smilemounts up her face and it’s somehow as warm as the heat of the missing sun “I’m getting you an uber and you’re going home to rest!”

“Soojin I’m fine seriously. “Once again, she doesn’t give room for you to argue, your words – or rather complaints melting off your tongue when she stands up from the couch, pulling you up with her.

“You owe it to yourself to take care of yourself yeah?” she says, and you hesitate for a few seconds, unsure of what to say back to such tenderness “we need to remember to be gentle with ourselves too.”

“Okay.” You sigh and she smiles “If I feel worse then I’ll leave!-“ you add and her smile vanishes, replaced by the shaking of her head.

“Jay.” She calls turning her face away from you and he straightens in his seat “call jake and tell him that yn is taking the day off.” Jay obliges almost as forthwith as your exhale. With no questions asked and you could only stare between the two, an amused smile tugging at the edge of your lips with a bigger strive to balance on your feet.

As Jay brings the phone to his ear he seems to notice your eyes on him, however he doesn’t seem to notice the sparkle that comes to life at witnessing affection tinting the air, at knowing there are deeper emotions between two people that they aren’t as aware of.

“Ivy’s the boss here. whatever she says, happens.” He says with a shrug, your eyes shift to Soojin, and you think your smile grows bigger as the slightest, lightest hue of pink settles upon her cheeks. It could be passed by as her red sweater bringing color to her face, the light of the room or maybe it’s the tint she applied carefully before leaving her house.

But you know, and she knows that such a display of sentiment comes from something a lot more cavernous and if not for her tugging you out the room while you’re still attempting to fight the decisions already made, you’d think you’re somehow intruding into a forbidden territory.

“That guy is whipped for you.” you comment, bumping your shoulder into hers with a giggle.

“No, he’s not.” Soojin denies, woven with stubborn rebuttal and a shake of her head “He’s that way with everyone.” She adds and it comes out much softer. Like a hushed conviction.

“He doesn’t even listen to Jennie the way he listens to you.” your voice grows louder in strives to prove your truth and she shushes you when you pass by a group of staff members “and she’s his actual boss!” you whisper yell.

“Shut up your uber is almost here.” She chuckles tinting the air with sparkles of affection and it brings a warm smile to your face to witness such a tale.

“Why does he call you Ivy anyway?”

“It’s my English name.”

“That’s cute. You must be special.” You wiggle your brows at her and then a sneeze interrupts your teasing, followed by her giggle as she pushes you into the backseat of the uber.

“Very cute. Now go rest and if you need anything don’t hesitate to text me.” She urges a warning in her gaze that displays her sincerity and perhaps you are a lot sicker than you thought or maybe your head hurts a lot more than when you first woke up because a very strange ache to pout and cry like a child almost takes over you.

Deep down within all the regrets and the shame you keep locked away, a strand of guilt remains there at all the times you were mean to her before. A part of you wishes you could blame your foolishness on the declining state of your health.

“Thank you.” you tell her, and you think Soojin sees through it all and you think she knows you’re about to cry so in the next moment she’s slamming the door shut and points to her ears with her index finger.

“I can’t hear you!” her voice is muffled by the glass of the window and it’s more than ample room for your chuckles to fill the car and gains you a strange look from your uber driver.

On your way home a gentle rain grazes the rooftops across the city, and the sky remains gray even when you’re inside your apartment. You change your clothes and sneak into your very comfortable warm pajamas. You sniffle as you brew your close to 50th cup of green tea this week. Silence fills every corner and despite your throbbing body you realize you’re not sure what to do if you’re not working.

You have been working for as long as you remember, have taken up part-time jobs as soon as you were conscious enough to digest the fact that money was everything. Especially in your case so you always remembered to suck it up. Even when you were sixteen waiting tables in a shitty diner and your boss had thrown inappropriate comments your way daily. You sucked it up. and sure, you have had days off and you have fallen sick before, but it’s been so long. That you feel like a stranger in your apartment when it’s light outside, when your body knows you should be working.

That, accompanied by the fact that the silence gives voice to your thoughts, for your anxiety to bloom and before you gain enough power to shut it down you have already dived into them. Your mind drifting to all the events you have been too busy to think about.

Niki.

Jake

Niki

Jake

Niki.

You rub the sides of your head with your fingers and then you’re taking your hot cup of tea into your living room. You sit on your couch with a groan at the throb persisting in your limbs. You reach for your phone and take small sips of your tea when you dial the number of your friend.

“Thick or regular?” Heeseung asks as soon as he picks up your call.

“Uh-“ you blink at the black screen of your tv “What are we talking about exactly?”

“Soy sauce.” He answers, the voice of strangers around him gives away his crowded surroundings.

“I didn’t even know there’s such thing as thick soy sauce.”

“Apparently thickness is taking over the world. That’s why bbls are a thing yn.” you snort.

“Maybe you should consider getting one.” A clear offended gasp from Heeseung cuts through and for a moment you would think you have insulted the entirety of his family tree.

“Okay I’m surrounded by soy sauce and you’re talking about how flat my ass is I’m so overwhelmed right now.” The gravity coating every word of his has you bursting out in laughter “It’s not like I’m getting backshots soon.” He adds and you choke on your laughter, your tea almost burns the skin of your thigh if you aren’t careful enough.

“I will be the one doing backshots,” you can almost hear the prideful smirk in his voice.

“Okay moving on from you and your shots.” You snort sounding somewhere between disgusted and petrified “Are you at the supermarket?” you ask, placing your cup on the table and adjusting your legs on the couch.

“Yeah. I forgot to make an order of Soy Sauce for the restaurant, so my dad is punishing me by making me go buy some.”

“You seem to be having fun so is it really a punishment?” you chuckle, leaning your head against one of the pillows and for a moment your headache subsides for a bit. Heeseung hums an agreement.

“What’s up with you? you sound like shit.” He asks after a few beats of silence.

“Thanks, I only heard that like ten times today.”

“Are you sick?”

“Probably. I’m really overwhelmed right now too.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Unalloyed concern clads his tone, and you sink into quietness for a few seconds before sighing.

“I’m honestly still really worried about Niki.” You mumble.

“What did that fucker do?” The sound of a child crying rises in the background and your head slightly pounds at the noise.

“Nothing. I’m just worried about him. I know he said he’s gonna retake his tests, but he has never failed anything in his life Hee.” You lie flat on your back and the sound of crying grows louder “Never. Even when he was in and out of hospitals so I can’t help but worry about him.” You add.

“Yeah I know – hold on-“ there’s shuffling on the other line. Heeseung’s voice grows a tad further but still coherent enough for you to hear “Hey can you stop being a little bitch?” The sound of crying abruptly stops and you blink rapidly at your ceiling with attempts to make sense of what’s going on.

“Or go fucking cry and be a little bitch in a different aisle.” He adds and then there’s an unsettling silence. It doesn’t last long, and it’s interrupted by a loud wail followed by an ear piercing “MOM!!”

“Kids these days am I right?” Heeseung says, voice clearer and tone nonchalant.

“Heeseung did you just call a kid a little bitch?”

“Yeah. Anyways back to Niki,” you open and close your mouth a handful of times, closer to speechless but then you’re shaking your heard with reminders that this is Heeseung and at this point in your lives it’s little that surprises you with him.

“Yeah anyways. I was wondering if you know anything about what's going on with him? Maybe he felt comfortable talking to you about it.”

“Not really. He’s been acting the same too.” He replies and you faintly exhale. Feeling a little defeated and lost with what to do with your worry “If you’re that worried about his grades dropping, I can talk to him about doing less shifts at the restaurant until his exams are over.” He adds with a hum, seeming a bit absentminded “I don’t know if he’ll be happy about it though.”

You try to let his words permeate your mind with inhuman effort and as you tilt your head at nothing in particular it takes you 10 seconds to comprehend what he just said. You sit up with confusion and then shock pushing you forward.

“Hold on,” you suck in a breath and your brows scrunch “What do you mean shifts? He’s been working at the restaurant?”

“Shit yeah. it’s been a while now. You didn't know?”

“What the fuck? No I didn't know. Why would you give him a job Hee? You know his body can’t handle it.” you berate, frustration woven in your tone.

“I don’t fucking know bro. he told me he needed the money, so I gave him one.”

“Did he tell you what he needed the money for? He has been selling his paintings online why would he need more money out of nowhere.” You run your hand through your hair tiredly, your body growing hot and you aren’t sure if its irritation manifesting in your veins or a fever.

“I really don’t know yn.” Heeseung sighs on the other line “But either way I’ll talk to him when he comes into work later. Don’t worry.”

“That would be good, thank you.” you reply, not worrying is an impossible task.

“Of course.”

“I’ll talk to him about everything properly once I’m over this cold or whatever it is. I don’t want him to get sick.” You say falling back onto the couch and stretching your legs. They weigh heavy and your heart feels heavier in your chest.

“Yeah, you better rest for now. I’ll talk to you later and text me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

As soon as you hang up, your anxiety seems to have doubled, Like ghosts swarming by your feet and slowly it feels like they’re taking over every cell of your essence. A strand of penitence comes to life in the midst of it all and you can’t help but wonder if perhaps were negligent of Niki due to how messy your life has been these past few months. Did you not pay enough attention to his struggles? How long has it been and when did he ever need anything and didn’t feel comfortable to tell you? Was there a stretching distance between you that you hadn’t noticed?

The thought is terrifying to you, it shakes you from within and when you check the time on your phone, it feels like it hasn’t moved ever since you stepped foot into your apartment. You close your eyes with a shuddered breath

Somewhere along the worries plaguing your mind like permanently sharpened needles and your hands digging for solution you manage to doze off on your couch. Curled with your knees held to your chest and wrapped with your arms. You aren’t sure how long you slept. It’s long enough for the rain to subside and short enough for the gray clouds to remain. The sky, mystified by the lack of light and night, is yet to unfurl.

The only reason that’s strong enough to pull you out of your sleep is the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your walls. And at first you think it’s a part of your dream but you’re picking apples and they’re crispy red and shiny but there’s a dying fish by your feet and who the fuck is at your door?

You open your eyes with a croaky groan. Your head pounds with an even worse migraine and your stomach is clenching in excruciating building nausea. You sit up and if you thought you felt awful earlier then it’s nothing compared to this. Like every bone in your body is aching and your fingers itch with an urge like sneaking through your flesh and squeezing tight.

Your doorbell rings again and this time it’s repeated, wrapped in evident panic at the lack of response from you and you finally decide to move. Shuffling to your door and maybe you are still in a hazy dream because as soon as you open your door Jake is standing there. Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that has you blinking into reality. His hair is undone, falling over his eyes naturally and his skin glimmers just the same. He looks like he just showered, and you almost don’t recognize him in his plain white sweatshirt topped with a brown jacket and jeans.

You eye him scrutinizingly, taking note of the two plastic bags he’s carrying.

“Jake? What are you doing here?” your voice is shattered, tinted by the remnant of your sleep and then confusion.

“Yn.” he exhales as if he’s relieved, he’s not stumbling upon your corpse and instead you’re alive “Jay told me you were sick and I was gonna send you some stuff but uh – “ he speaks hastily, hand scratching at the back of his neck and eyes fleeing from you and his words almost as scattered as your thoughts and perhaps that’s why it feels like you don’t understand anything he’s saying. His gaze finds you and he clear his throat. Almost like he falters at your silence.

You must be really sick or still dreaming.

“Anyways are you okay?” He asks hastily yet gently, and he remains gentle in the way his voice infiltrates your being, benign in the way he looks at you as his gaze darts over your figure and then they linger on the discomfort painting your features. It has his own brows furrowing deeper with growing concern.

He tells himself he shouldn’t be this panicked – this nervous. Shouldn’t let it show so obviously, clearer than the gray skies. Albeit he had practiced every word he wanted to say to you, all the excuses he was ready to spill upon finding his way to your home. Uninvited and perhaps unwelcome. For fuck’s sake he thinks he bought the entirety of the small convince store close to your apartment building and there’s embarrassment brewing in his blood, his excuses withering at the tip of his tongue the deeper your discomfort seep into your face.

And no words of his permeates your mind strong enough and instead all you could think about is your head is pounding, and you need to sit down or bash it against the wall. It’s solely why you don’t say anything back and instead turn around in search of relief.

“Yn.” Jake calls with scattered disconcertment as he follows you inside, the plastic bags are a hassle, and he curses himself yet remembers to close the door behind him and his voice echoes through your mind and your living the room when he calls again “Bunny.”

You sit down on your previous spot on your couch, the room is darkened by your blinds and when you bury your head in the palms of your hands it’s not quick enough for you to not witness Jake kneeling in front of you with no hesitation, his bags abandoned on the floor as if he hadn’t spent wasting minutes on deciding what to get, what’s best for you. he doesn’t touch you and his hand hovers awkwardly above your back and yet you swear you could feel its heat as if he is touching you.

“Bunny what’s wrong? Are you dizzy?” his voice betrays an unsubdued concern almost frantic, and you deny his question with a shake of your head.

“Can you talk to me? I wanna be able to help you okay?” He gently coaxes and you keep quiet because you could still sense his hand hovering, and you wonder why can’t his hand be as gentle “Can you tell me what you’re feeling? Mhm?” he suggests once again.

“My head hurts so bad.” You whimper and it feels so silly, the urge percolating into you to cry. It’s the type of pain that makes you wish you could peel your skin off. Abandon your skull somewhere.

“Okay.” He stands up and you peer up at him through your palms and he’s looking around as if he’s trying to decide what he should do next. Evidently nervous as he runs his hand through his hair “Painkillers. I’ll get you some painkillers.” And then he’s walking towards one of the bags he was carrying, digging through them with seemingly no avail as he curses under his breath.

“Fucking hell how did I forget to buy painkillers?” He berates himself, digging into the second bag only to end with failure. “Do you have any painkillers?” He asks looking up at you and the sight of you on your couch huddled up in pain even if it’s something as minor as a mere headache sends the same ache dripping from your fingertips and nestling its way right to the middle of his chest, digging and digging.

He doesn’t wait for your answer and seconds pass by and then you hear him rummaging through the cabinets of your kitchen. His search doesn’t last long thanks to the painkillers you had left on the counter this morning with complementation. You feel his presence and there’s a glass of water in his hand.

“This will make you feel better. Come on bunny.”

He’s standing in front of you again and weirdly enough the way he speaks as if the autumn sunlight is in his voice rather than the cruel winter outside makes you feel vulnerable and when he offers comfort in the palm of his hand, places the glass of water on the table you could only manage to shake your head once again with denial.

“I’m really nauseous and I don’t feel like I could take anything right now without throwing up.” You complain with a snivel and your tone breaks as if you’re about to shed tears and Jake feels it hit him in the pit of his stomach. It’s uncomfortable and unjust because despite how scratched and heavy his heart is your pain still manages to nip at him in different places. As if there’s no way for him not to feel you.

You leer at him and your eyes are misty, you see his hands clench then unclench by his sides and you imagine he’s fighting against restraints to not touch you. His teeth sink into his bottom lips, his fingers dig crescents into the tender skin of his palm. And you wonder how a feeling as tender manages to suffuse within you. You wonder how your mind finds room amidst the pain to fantasize about him when he is right in front of you.

But then Jake is kneeling right by your knees once again and your eyes widen only slightly when he replaces your hands with his. Pressing his thumbs into your temples.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh. Doing this helps me with my headaches sometimes.” He explains and you shut your eyes when he applies light pressure with his fingers. And yet you are overly aware of how wavering you persist to be.

You’re unsure if you’re dizzy because your body is catching up to how weary you feel or because he’s suddenly so close. Close enough to feel his breath hit your face, the pads of his fingers are rough and yet contrastingly warm and it’s been so long since he touched you.

“Is there anything else that’s hurting you?” He asks – whispers delicately - after a few moments of silence with only the sound of your intermingled breaths.

“My body hurts too.” You reply – whisper back just as delicately - and you can’t fight against the small pout jutting your bottom lip out. You think if you were in the right state of mind, you’d be cringing at how dramatic you’re acting.

“Thankfully you don’t seem to be having a fever.” The swipes of his thumbs circle your skin soothingly “You’ll be okay.” He reassures, applying harder pressure every now and then. For a fleeting moment you aren’t sure if he’s trying to comfort you or himself.

“I have you.” it’s a faint whisper. Barely inaudible and for a different fleeting moment it feels like a lie your sick mind had conjured up to feed your thirsting heart. The same fragile heart that pulsates against your ribcage and you don’t want it to be a lie or a heedless imagination.

“Do you promise?” you childishly ask, and Jake lets out a breathy chuckle that tickles your face. You open your eyes, and they prance around his. The chuckle that has melted onto a small smile slowly disappears from his face and you don’t know what kind of expression you’re wearing, what kind of mask you should be hiding behind.

“I promise.” He replies and you sigh because you don’t know if he means that you’ll be okay or that he’s got you, but you hold onto the latter. With clutches roughened by the selfishness of your own longing and shut your eyes with silly covets like not unveiling it.

It’s only when enough time has passed for your body to relax. No longer tense shoulders and shuddered breaths. Instead, the tranquil silence that has settled right between you two settles in the depths of your chest just the same as Jake speaks;

“Better?” He asks.

“Mhm.”

“Do you think you could try taking the painkiller now?”

“Yeah.” you clear your throat, pushing your eyes to open when his hands abandon your skin, and you wish you lied.

Even for a bit longer as he hands you the pills, he had picked up earlier followed by water that you chug diligently and it’s only when your glass is empty that you exhale. Wiping at the corner of your mouth at the few straying drops. He eyes you tentatively when you look up at him.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” His eyebrows furrow in clear confusion.

“For troubling you. Being a burden. I don’t know.” you slightly wince, eyes shifting somewhere else before catching his yet again and he abides unremitting.

“You’re not a burden bunny.” You can sense there’s more that linger at the tip of his tongue, and you wait “I’m here because I was worried about you.” he finishes and your cheeks splash with pink evoked to steal his attention by your pale face.

“Does your body still hurt?” He asks when you’re quiet for far too long, with running gazes and nerves colored hands and pretends he didn’t feel his face burning up at his confession.

“A bit.” You answer, scratching at your wrist and clearing your throat “Can you hand me my laptop, please?” you ask, pointing somewhere behind him and he raises a displeased eyebrow at you.

“For what?”

“There’s a couple of stuff I need to get done.”

“Like what? What’s so important that you need to do now?”

“Bills. Rent is due soon and there’s Yeonjun’s car fees. I was gonna do them earlier but I ended up falling asleep.” You explain, rubbing your forehead warily and the space between his brows deepen with confusion.

“Car fees?” he questions and you nod as if he’s supposed to understand “yeah I need to pay him. I need my laptop.” You move to stand up and your head is spinning a bit but you don’t get to make it far before his hands are on your shoulders pushing you to sit back down and then Jake is on his knees again, chasing after your eyes with a tilt of his head.

You wish he wouldn’t kneel so easily, as if he won’t swallow your heart up and flee.

“Are they urgent?” He asks tenderly and your chest tightens as if there isn’t enough room for your breaths to leave.

“No but I have to do them right now.” You insist with a shaky voice when his hands cradle your face with loving forbearance, one that has you feeling languid.

“Shh, you don’t need to do anything right now, okay?” he reassures as if you were panicked and perhaps you were, you aren’t sure if it’s because of your lack of work or simply because Jake is in the same space as you and you aren’t sure how to act without vomiting words lodged at the back of your throat.

I've missed you so much that I've been naming the stars in the sky after you.

“You’re on sick leave for a reason. Your body needs rest.” His thumb swipes at your cheek and his face is within centimeters of yours “You can do all of these things tomorrow or whenever you feel better, okay?” you let a shuddered breath out and for a second it feels like looking away from him is unobtainable, not when his gaze glints with golden specks, ones that feels like they are reserved for you.

“Okay.” You whisper back, overtaken by defeat and perhaps you never stood a chance.

“Good.” He grins, overtaken by triumphant.

Strands of his black hair fall over his face, and you don’t think you have ever felt this much envy towards anything aside from a human being. Your fingers itch on your lap with temptation to push it out of the way yet you hold yourself back, despite the lure entangled in every move he makes. You are too aware of the distance, too aware of the space you shouldn’t cross, and you will enough power not to slip again.

You fall into silence with purpose, mainly because you feel like a cuddled child and yet you have this growing fear inside of you. It slithers its path to your flickering glances, right into the skin of his palms as he strokes your cheeks. You’re so awfully scared of splitting yourself open, baring your insides and submitting your soul to disaster.

“How about I run you a bath?” He suggests with a slight hum, and you shake your head when his hands trail to your knees.

“No.”

“Why not? It will help you feel better.”

“I don’t really wanna move right now.” As if to prove your point you lie down on the couch, your hair spread like a halo around you and although the room is enveloped in darkness, and everything falls into one color he swears he could almost see the sunrays infiltrating through your strands. its warmth travels to him and he almost want to spread his arms wide open to welcome it.

And perhaps it is enough force to coaxes his smile to rise – his eyes sink into excruciating benevolence and there you are stumbling yet again. Unable to look away from him, not when he’s everything you wish to behold. It pushes you into folding your desire into itself. Tucking it into the space none of you dare to take.

“Weren’t you just fine moving a second ago to get your laptop?”

“That’s different.” You argue with a shrug, making no attempts to further strengthen your point.

“It will be warm, and it will help with soothing the ache in your body.” He says, try to persuade you with a hum and the air tastes fragile, enticing you with an ache to bury your face in the middle of his chest and sing a melody of your name into it, tattoo your name into the canvas of his soul, or maybe it’s you.

“My ache is fine actually, thank you.”

“Oh yeah? is that why your legs are shaking?” he arches a brow at you, smile tilting upwards as if they’re claiming to reach for the stars and you look down at your body, haven’t realized the slight tremble wrecking through it.

“That’s because I’m cold.”

Wordlessly he shrugs off his brown jacket and places it over your lower body, covering your legs and it provides little to no warmth but the scent of laundry detergent engulfs your being. It waters your fervent longing back to the surface. Drowning you in it and you wish to drown in everything that makes up Jake. You didn’t know you could miss someone when they’re right in front of you and you didn’t quite grasp how hard it is to shake the hallucinating thoughts of him – where touching him isn’t forbidden and looking at him comes easily – without threats for your words to spill.

“What about you?” you mumble, pointing at his thin , almost see through sweatshirt.

“I can handle the cold just fine.” He retorts “You know what would help you warm up though? A bath.”

“I’m gonna feel cold as I undress to get into the bathtub.”

“I’ll make it really warm to make up for the few minutes of coldness you’re gonna feel.” He counteracts with a chuckle emerging from his lips and landing right in the middle of your heart. You’re quiet, as if you’re contemplating his words and he thinks he won as your eyes flit elsewhere – he misses you.

“What if the water is too hot it burns my skin?” you ask, softly and yet seriously enough for him to feel the same feeling welling in the pit of his stomach again – as if a flower is fighting its way to bloom through cracks of sorrow and he isn’t sure how to deal with it.

The sunrays, the flowers and the sorrow. He won.

“I’ll make sure nothing like that happens to you.” he replies, just as softly as tender as gingerly. And it’s unfair because you feel your heart palpitate at his mere existence and you already know he won the minute he stepped foot in here.

“How about this,” he straightens, pushes his hair away from his face and you’re envious at his hands and grateful all at once for granting you a clearer glimpse to his features “I’ll go run the bath. Make sure everything is perfect for you and then if you still feel like you don’t want to go in, you don’t have to, okay?”

You don’t think you’re brave enough to accept his kindness as it is. You will always manage to find different facets of it. Dress it in the intensity of affection and stare at his smile as if spilled lullabies are woven to call for their home – within your soul.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

He shushes you and when he stands up, his hand lingers above your head. His own urges – hankerings to brush through your hair betray themselves in the flicker of light in his gaze so you cowardly look away because you’re scared of betraying your burning heart in yours. Scared of being rejected and falling between the walls of whys.

“I’ll be back.” He whispers, flown away and you could still smell the rain on your skin.

Your house – a small apartment is the complete opposite of his. He never was into the intricacies of home décor. Hence why the space of his home remains plain and simple. His own touches of life lacking and the only thing close to boisterous are his forget me nots and the painting that somehow managed to lead back to you.

You, however, stay lively with scattered hanged pictures of Japan across the walls. And your dessert shaped candles, your bathroom smells like Sakura petals, and you manage to inject your love into everything you surround. He thinks he likes it here.

He’s gone for two minutes only; the bath is half full when you peak your head through the door of your own bathroom. Your hair is disheveled, and his jacket is now around your shoulders.

“Changed your mind?” He asks with a grin that churrs your insides.

“The thought of a bath didn’t seem so bad after all.” You answer as you step inside. You take a seat on the closed toilet seat and watch as Jake reads the back label of your pink bubble bath soap, his nose scrunches a little too adorably as if he is displeased of what it contains. Your heart warms at the sight and he still pours a generous amount of it into the tub, filling it with bubbles and then he follows it with your bodywash.

The scent of vanilla overtakes the Sakura.

“This smells just like you.”

“It is my bodywash after all.”

“I like it.” He says, eyes drifting to the water as he tests the temperate with his hands. How I smell or merely the scent? you want to ask but you don’t.

When the water is warm and full. He trudges towards you, his cheeks are slightly pink due to the heat and there’s a soft smile dispersing across his lips with coated fondness. It steals your breath away when he’s leaning down and taking off your socks for you. You slightly flinch with a bout of embarrassment.

“Y-You don’t have to do this Jake.” You fumble diffidently, with your words and your racing heart.

“I know.” He looks up at you “I want to. Am I making you uncomfortable?” He questions throwing your socks to the side. You’re left to wonder how you are supposed to accept his integrity, his attentiveness, the unfair ability to have you wavering on this warmth of his.

“No.” you admit, with a rattled breath and perhaps the tilt of his lips is worth it.

“Can I?” He still asks when his hands reach for the buttons of your pajama top, you shrug his jacket off and nod with a burning face.

Silence rushes in unwelcomed, and your keep your gaze downcast. watch as his fingers seemingly slower than you wish unbutton every single one. Your heart picks up speed with each one and breathing grows harder when your eyes dart towards his and yet still vacillating. Because it is not lust that fetters the air but rather something that feels much more intimate. Like exchanging words between your gazes that your tongue will not be able to match.

And it stays even when you’re finally in the bathtub. Encircled by a familiar scent, warmth and Jake at the edge of your tub. The water is as pleasant as he promised, and your body relaxes.

“Just call for me if you need anything, alright?”

Suddenly you’re inundated with a colossal amount of disappointment at being left alone. Your eyes shifting, fingers picking at the surface of your tub.

“Alright, bunny?” He asks again and maybe it is your tiresome tinting all logical thinking that you should have but then you’re shaking your head, kicking your pride to the side.

“What if I need something but I can’t call for you?” stupid, stupid yearning.

Jake looks perplexed for a few seconds, but his expression is softened by a fond smile. He had broken hearts before – not intentionally. And he never was the man to listen to others strives to grasp for his affectionate. And yet in this moment, he’d rather have you break his heart than refuse what your eyes are seeking.

“I’ll just stay then.” He tells you, tender and you’re shy. Cheeks glowing pink and he feels his fondness for you trickle into his blood and it bumps faster, rougher through his veins when you catch his gaze.

You lean back into the tub with your lips slightly tilting, pushing the entirety of your hair to the side. The ends swim alongside you and stray rivulets of water slips down your neck. Catching his gaze as it lingers for a minute too long on the necklace that’s always there.

It's just you, unadulterated with the weather outside and draped with effulgence as he always knew you to be. And it’s him, without the echoes of all his doubtful battles. Perhaps he managed to empty his mind in the water and your necklace – his – remains around your neck even when you’re bare. It’s like you’re wearing him, and he likes to think he’s woven into the fabric of your soul.

He looks away for a spilt second, a puff of a chuckle forces its way past his lips.

“What?” you ask, tilting your head to the side with a growing smile and God – you’re breathtaking.

“I just had a stupid thought.” He shakes his head, and the water slightly splashes when you move closer to him.

“Tell me.” you say, and he thinks you’re too tangled in his soul.

“It just feels like it’s been a while since we looked at each other.” He says softly “But we see each other every day so it’s stupid.” He continues and recognition fills your eyes like you know exactly what he means.

“It’s not stupid.” you reply, and you are too tangled in his soul “I have actual stupid thoughts all the time. And you know it.”

“They’re extraordinary, I wouldn’t call them stupid.”

“That’s just a nicer way of saying I’m stupid.” You retort with a playful snort; your smile remains soft.

“Shut up you’re not stupid.” He insists and a comparable softness traverse in his irises and it pushes you right into quietness.

You never were one for silence. Because silence is uncomfortable and it’s vast with its weight. It vocalizes everything you’ve been trying to evade all day, perhaps all week or maybe it’s been long enough to be called months. However, right now it doesn’t feel like that. It’s akin to placid waters, your reflection comes back crystalline clear rather than distorted.

“You’re the last person I expected it to see today if I’m being honest.” You speak after stretching minutes of none of you saying anything, fingers drawing star shapes into the water and his eyes watch you with faithful attention.

“What would have you done if I wasn’t here?” He doesn’t ask why, and you wonder if he knows or is merely uninterested.

“Probably become one with my couch until I felt better.” You shrug and he shakes his head with a tsk of disapproval. For an odd reason a knot forms in your stomach, impossibly tight and the skin of your neck ignites in flame. You tell yourself you’re growing too hot and that’s it.

“I wish you took care of yourself the way you take care of others.” He says, candor embraces every syllable with ease. A similar knot forms in the middle of your tongue. Deeming it useless. There is no peace in confessing that you aren’t sure how to do that. Not when you have spent a lifetime with amiability directed at anyone but yourself.

“I don’t think I know how to do that.” There’s no peace in confessing yet you still do it. Perhaps you were tired of trying to light a matchstick that refuses to obey, his eyes mellow down into nothing but adoration.

Was there a point in trying to save someone that refuses to be saved?

But Jake hasn’t been acting like himself. Following his impulses blindly, it’s evoked by the callings of his heart, yearning to be near so he showed up to your door like there’s room for him. He touched you like he wasn’t made from poison and he can scour through every rational thought but they’re all adjudged futile against the softness that is you.

“I’m here now.” He says, I’m here to take care of you, you hear.

The enormity of his desire disgusts him, it’s a craving beyond his flesh and it’s unjust. I’ll shape myself into something that’s worth taking care of you, he means.

“You have been working hard, your body is probably upset with you.” He adds when you’re quiet, eyes darting over your dubious figure and he thinks your cheeks have drained the colors from the world, they’re pink and the sky is gray.

He’s unworthy but it’s a great honor to think he’s the reason why.

“Tell that to my boss.” You joke and Jake narrows his eyes at you.

“I actually heard your boss is super nice,”

“Did you now?”

“Uh huh, super nice and handsome too. Ripped body. Killer smile. I could go on forever. Really.” He trails, lowering his fingers one by one and you roll your eyes with a forced giggle tumbling out your lips, one that you cannot seem to be able to hold back.

“Who’s feeding you these lies? Jay?”

“So, you don’t agree that I’m handsome?”

“Beauty is subjective.”

“Is that a no?” a look of faux offense clambers over his face and your giggle uprears in volume, grows further from fatigue and closer to how you usually sound. You pretend to zip your mouth shut, raising palms in surrender as if you can’t help it.

A deeper umbrage takes claim on his face, and he attempts to splash water at you, you turn your head with a laugh, and he sees Sakura petals bloom across your face, they come from within, watered by you.

“In all seriousness,” he itches closer to you. and your smile melts off your face at the sudden propinquity it has your body engulfed in heat that isn’t provided by the bath. His fingers trail underwater, and when his eyes catch yours, they’re soaked with softness and your reflection is so clear. when his fingers graze yours, they fail to intertwine, and your heart is beating so fast you feel like you could throw It up.

“You’re doing a good job, bunny.” Your eyes soften as marginally, you bring your knees up to your chest. Attempts to hide the joy that overtakes your sentiment – the warmth that caresses your heart. You allow yourself to bask in it and a faint voice whispers in your heart;

You have managed to stumble on a lost star – he shines so brightly and burns just as bright. And he calls for you in a sea of flesh.

“You’re doing a good job too, Jake.” He smiles and your mind careens.

“Tell that to my assistant.”

This time it’s you who splashes him with water and this time it’s him who laughs like the world shrinks into nothing but you and him in the middle of your small bathroom. And you smile like your heart has never known pain, but you don’t tell him that you didn’t let the water get to him on purpose, and you don’t show him that love writes itself in the corners of your face.

“Shall I help you wash your hair?” He asks when his laughter had died down and the glint in his eyes shines brighter.

“You don’t have to.”

At your answer he’s already getting up, hands reaching for your bottle of shampoo. When he’s behind you, hands entangled in your hair. You bury your face in your knees with a profound urge to weep taking over your sensitive heart. It’s foolishly emerging from the fog of your confusion at the reminder that you don’t remember the last time someone cared for you this deeply, this tenderly. And there’s unavoidable loneliness at the thought, there’s melancholy in the feeling, knowing that this tenderness is temporary.

No matter how selfishly you hope for it to last. Your mind is a battlefield, haunted by touches of love. Stories upon stories stitched together by great ardor. You have seen it all around you, in movies, written in pages of a novel and in ending relationships your friends had gone through – none of them are yours.

“Bunny I can’t wash your hair if you’re leaning that far off.” Jake comments with a chuckle.

You keep quiet, too embarrassed to cry over something as inevitable as Jake leaving. Too ashamed of the covetous ache brimming in your blood. You have tried to discard it, but you aren’t sure how are you supposed to drain your blood without kneeling into death.

Jake follows your silence. Maybe he thinks you’re stubbornly childish, maybe he thinks you’re teasing him or maybe he sees it through it all and your weakness is unabashed and it’s a glaring red siren coaxing him into the complexity of your essence. You don’t see him, but you feel him moving behind you, the sound of a lid uncapping and then his hands are on your back with lathered soup, vanilla fills the empty spaces of silence.

His hands aren’t soft against your skin, they’re rough, washed raw and dry. You could almost distinguish every scar that embellishes them, the healing ones, old ones you haven’t been there to witness taint his skin. His sadness – unrelenting guilt is unabashed, and you never knew such callous hands could be this gentle.

It’s another stupid thought – but maybe there’s room for something to belong to you.

When the sun sets outside. The lights in your hallway stay the same. While Jake takes an alarmingly long time to wash his hands. Long enough for enervation to sink deeper into your bones, it drains the color from your face. and it transpires itself into imaginary leg cuffs around your ankles making your movement closer to a harder task than breathing.

You somehow feel even more tired, dragged further down the hole of sickness.

“You okay?” He asks when he finds you in your bedroom, sitting on your velvet vanity chair and clothed in your robe. Your hair is slightly damp and the colors of the sun leaving seeps in through the openings of your curtains.

“Just a little tired.” You answer, throwing a glance at his direction and it leaves him wondering – perhaps for days – how you manage to look like you stepped out of the painting of his dreams.

In his dreams, his heart isn’t as filthy and merging into you isn’t as fearful.

In reality, he clears his throat and steps into your room, inhales your perfume and envelopes his filthy heart with faux courage.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Mhm.” You lean your head back onto his chest when he’s standing behind you. He conceals his surprise with immense force, not fast enough for the betrayal of his slightly widened eyes. cinnamon and vanilla overtake his senses, your face is doused in exhaustion and his mind is fuzzy.

“Not yet.” He inhales you.

“We’ll need to get some food in your system, yeah?” He whispers and you hum, eyes falling shut when he tentatively brushes his fingers through your hair “We’ll also need to do something about your hair – can’t have you getting sicker.”

“I don’t feel like doing anything.” You faintly complain, a small pout adorning your lips when you look up at him, the sunset glimmers in your eyes and reality pales in comparison.

“I’ll do it for you.” He replies with an amused grin at the way you’re acting. It gives room for the moon to rise.

You aren’t sure what he means by that – however a long sigh caged in your chest escapes when he starts brushing your hair. He’s extremely gentle, fingers coated in delicacy that you don’t even provide for your own hair. And there’s a peculiar domesticity painting the air. As if this was how everything was meant to unfold. For you to eventually end up here and for him to be behind you through it all.

“I never thought that the Jake Sim would be good at braiding hair.” You comment lightly when he starts sectioning your hair, he catches your eyes in the mirror.

“My mum taught me.” he mumbles, eyes returning to his work and seeming completely focused on your hair “I used to braid her hair for her all the time.”

“That’s really sweet.” You reply with a lowered tone – a hushed softness and Jake is quiet for a few moments. You think his words die here but then he speaks again.

“I vividly remember how each time the braid grew smaller and smaller because she kept losing so much hair.” His words flow as easy as autumn breeze, bittered by the winter as if the image is still fresh in his head. Rather than a distant memory. It’s an image that still glides throughout his reality.

“She always joked that it’s better this way. That it’s easier for me to braid.” He chuckles but it lacks life, joy, and his eyes deepen with distant – longing and your heart tightens, brows slightly furrowing at his undeniable grief.

I’m sorry. Lingers at the tip of your tongue but you’re well aware that’s not the kind of words that will bring him peace. It won’t ease his pain or lessen the depth of his sadness – anger. You’re well aware not to act upon the urges clashing inside of you. truthfully you want to know everything about him. The thoughts that invade his mind at night, in the mornings and right now when he’s dozing off with pieces of you in between his fingers.

What is he like when his anger isn’t restrained – what is he like when he’s not bottling everything up and what would it be like to peek into his sorrowful river. You don’t give room for yourself to decipher the cause of this urge. You know it’s not trivial curiosity, but rather the desire to peer into the corners of his souls. Like a book you wish to read, your fingers itching. Yet you manage to hold yourself back. You smile and night has painted the sky.

“She sounds like a lively woman.”

“She is.” He says absentmindedly while his hands braid the ends of your hair “She was.” He corrects in a fleeting second “She was the type of person to find happiness even on the darkest and gloomiest days.”

Jake’s lament displays itself in the floods of his existence with no shame. There’s softness twined in his gaze; one that appears naturally at the mention of a person he holds so dearly to his heart, yet the bitterness abides part of it all. It’s a wound that had yet to stop aching in pain, to stop bleeding. He doesn’t know why he tells you all this and doesn’t know how the words slipped out of his mouth but his eyes stumble upon yours there’s not a single cell of regret in his body.

You don’t look at him with pity nor sympathy. Jake had showed off his scars to you and you still look at him like it’s just – him. Not his shame, or grief. His existence had always felt like a garden of black and red agonies. Had seen it tickle down his cheeks with rivulets of his sorrow, witnessed the blood seep out his fingers and drench the ground with every step he takes. But you’re there, in the midst of it all and you’re not looking at him with disdain. Instead, you flourish with ease, as if he isn’t made of prickling thorns.

“I’m sure she’s still watching over you, proudly.” You tell him with a fragile smile, and it shouldn’t shake his soul the way it does. He looks away with a slight tremble in his hand. A labored breath and he can’t say anything back to you. You don’t look at him as shame or grief and he can’t let you look at him as his regret, his guilt.

Jake is made up of a garden tainted with black and red agonies – his remorse remains a master of it all. He doesn’t find enough courage to come face to face with the fact that it’s not that. That if his mother knew, if you knew how he lived his life. Glory has no place to exist. So, instead he grins and ties your hair for you.

“All done.”

“Wow! it’s really well done actually.” You say, bringing your hair to the front and staring at it, between your hands. A pang of ache nestles its way into his stomach and it’s peculiar to feel like you’re holding a piece of him so delicately.

“it’s just one of my many talents.” He quips and you giggle slightly.

You keep your eyes glued to your hair and he senses something shifting in your eyes and your lips cast downwards faster than he’d like. He senses a realization in you unfold as your brows start to furrow.

“My mom,” you speak suddenly and then you’re looking at him, a smile doused in sorrow similar to his is on your face “my mom never really taught me anything.” You murmur like a confession pulled from the depths of your soul. For a moment he thinks he sees your scars too, they’re raw and have yet to stop bleeding, he thinks he tastes your heartache on your tongue.

It’s bitter and doesn’t belong in you.

“You still turned out wonderful.” He says, every word, tone is inundated with sincerity and your eyes flit to his with purpose to steal his heart. They glimmer and he wonders how envious the moon must be – he wonders if there’s room for him to linger around.

“You don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m sick.” You joke lightly, you ended up baring your insides after all.

“Have I ever lied to you?” He whispers, not colored with amuse like you had hoped.

“No.” you answer, and you think you can’t slip when you have already fallen, and he smiles like he knows he won.

You realize it then – how scary intimacy truly is. Not the one evoked by lust and hunger but this one. The one that saturates the air with vulnerability. Baring your soul with its ugly scratches, your hideous mistakes while blind to everything that’s coming your way.

And he realizes it then – that there’s so much of you he has yet to unveil, he sees parts of you everywhere, in the love you spill into everything you do. And in your so ever called hope. Jake was never optimistic. Life hadn’t given him the privilege to be and somewhere in the darkened nights in his garden he lost the ability to believe in such an intangible thing as hope. So, he wonders why he wishes for your hope to never wither away. He feels this immense urge to peer into your soul, look through the pages of your book.

You open your mouth to say something and the hairs on his body rise in anticipation to listen with devotion. It’s an odd feeling to thirst for someone like this. Not for their body to touch yours or unload accumulated stress through them but rather to intertwine with him, crave for your hand to mesh into them. How selfish it is, to crave someone this bad, as if he has any right to call you his.

Your phone dings multiple times on your vanity, seemingly with messages and your mouth closes, eyes averting and his anticipation is stripped away, overtaken by disappointment at your fleeting attention.

“Sorry,” you mumble, picking up your phone and going through the notifications. Your brows slightly furrow, and he grows hatred for your phone.

“Is everything okay?” he asks at your lingering worry.

“Yeah um,” your fingers move across your screen as you type to a response to whatever stole your gazes from him “Niki is here?” you add and it comes out more as a question colored with bewilderment.

“Did you know he was coming?”

“No,” you lock your phone and stand up “I told him to come up. He wants to talk to me about something.” You explain further, heading towards your closet in search of clothes to wear. You pull a plain thick sweater over your head, hands reaching for a pair of shorts closest to your hand.

The sound of your door unlocking has Jake’s eyes slightly widening at the speed of your brother. Did he fucking teleport to your floor or what?

“Anyways it probably won’t be long so just stay here.” You add and he cocks a brow at your choice of clothing .

“Are you seriously wearing that?” he asks eyes trailing over your figure.

“Yeah, why?”

“You have been complaining about being cold all day and now you’re wearing shorts? Do you want to die?” you blink at him slowly “Change. Wear something warm.” He adds crossing his arms and tone stern unlike how he has been talking to you gently earlier, it’s slightly amusing and it has your lips twitching upwards.

“Yes boss.” You joke heading for your closet again and he rolls his eye and then your back faces him and you fail to see his smile, it’s adorned with affection.

After changing into thicker pajama pants and gaining a nod of approval from Jake, you make it out to your living room. Niki is on your couch and upon hearing the sound of your steps his eyes shift from the plastic bags on the floor to you. irritation paints his face quickly and you sigh warily.

“What the fuck yn?”

To be continued....

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leighsartworks216 · 2 days ago

Text

Yes This Fear's Got A Hold On Me

Zayne x gn!Reader

Literally drabbled this out earlier while cooking dinner bc it hit me so hard. I think I'm just in the mood for putting Zayne through angst rn

Title from "Death" by White Lies

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fear of death, overthinking, domestic moments, established relationship, rain/storms, recklessness, self-sacrificing behavior, cooking/food

Word Count: 1,767

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“I can’t answer the phone right now, I’m too busy kicking Wanderer butt! Leave a message and-”

Zayne sighs and hits the end call button again. Every call goes straight to voicemail. He can’t help but be worried.

The rain is coming down in torrents outside. It hits the windows like angry fists. The wind howls like wolves in the night. The streets are flooded, but even if they weren’t you took your bike into work today and all public transport is closed. He called your coworkers earlier, just on the off chance you actually listened to the shelter in place warnings, but they said you’d left an hour ago.

His pacing is going to eat through to the apartment below if you don’t turn up soon. He tries calling one last time. Not two words into the automated message, he’s ending the call and shoving his phone in his pocket.

He shrugs on his coat, prepared to make the last ditch effort of going out there to find you himself when there’s a knock on the door. One sleeve hangs half off his shoulder as he swings it open. His heart is caught in his throat.

You force a smile through chattering teeth. A puddle forms under your feet on the welcome mat, with smaller puddles trailing down the hall from the elevator. “My hands are too pruny,” you manage, gesturing with a nod at the door handle and its biometric lock.

He doesn’t quite register your words, pulling you inside hurriedly. Your shoulders are soaked with water where he touches them. Your whole body is soaked with water. He helps you take off your coat. It drops to the floor in a wet heap to be dealt with later. “Did you walk all the way here?” he asks. He already knows the answer.

You nod. You tuck your hands in your armpits, desperate to contain what little warmth you have left as he helps tug off your shoes. Your socks are soggy and uncomfortable. A forceful chill wracks your entire body, before settling back into the consistent, exhausting chills they were before. “I was gonna call, but my phone died.”

Well, that explains his last 20 minutes of frustration. “I’ll scold you after you get warmed up.”

“‘Preciate it.”

He shakes his head as he takes his coat off to wrap it around your shoulders. It’s ever so slightly warm from the short amount of time he had it on, enough to provide a smidge of relief.

Your steps slap against the hardwood as you’re led across the floor he was pacing only minutes ago. He leads you straight to the bathroom and abandons you by the sink to start running the water for a shower. You whine at the sight of even more water.

“Aren’t I wet enough?” You know it’s for the best, but you feel oddly reminiscent of a cat being forced to take a bath.

Zayne doesn’t dignify your complaint with more than a stern look. As the water runs, steam starting to billow up overtop the glass doors, he returns to you and steals the dry outer layer you’d only just gotten. You whine again, unbidden. He has the decency to look a little sorry as he continues to strip you down. “You’ll be warm soon. While you heat up, I’ll make you dinner.”

You shiver. Goosebumps raise up all over your body, exposed to the unforgiving air. You rub your arms. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s for my own sanity, if you must know.”

On any normal day, Zayne’s hands usually ran pretty cold. You liked to joke that it was because he’s a doctor, and all doctors seem to have cold hands all the time. Right now, they feel so warm against your skin as he helps you into the shower, under the blessedly hot water. He doesn’t pay attention to the water that gets on his sleeves as you cling to him. You think you see a hint of a smile before you close your eyes and put your face right under the spray, shuddering with the temperature shock.

“Take your time. I’ll leave some clothes out for you.” He shuts the glass door and gets to work gathering the soaking wet clothes left behind. If you didn’t get sick after this, he’d have to write it up in a medical journal as an unexplained phenomena.

“Thank you~” you call out.

He shakes his head, though you can’t see it. You really drive him up the wall, sometimes. Walking for an hour through a monsoon for no justifiable reason is up there in the most stress-inducing things you’ve done on the ever-growing list he has. And yet, here you are, thanking him as he takes care of you, fighting against the possibility of a cold that hangs overhead like an undeniable certainty. God, he loves you so.

He closes the bathroom door behind him and beelines for the laundry room. All your clothes go into the wash. Your coat gets hung up to air dry. He stuffs your shoes with newspaper to draw the water out. Then, to the bedroom, where he pulls out some fresh, dry clothes for you to change into. He sets them on the bathroom counter, listening as you quietly hum to yourself. At last, he gets to work preparing your favorite hot drink as he works on making a batch of soup.

All the while, his body readjusts to the fact that you’re okay. He hones in on your humming while he chops up vegetables, willing himself to relax and release all the thoughts that had plagued him before - terrible images, all made worse with his own medical knowledge putting names to all the conditions and effects that could have destroyed you. The rain knocks on the kitchen window as a cruel reminder of what could have been.

But none of it happened. You’re here. You’re only a couple rooms over, taking a shower. You’re here. You’re going to drink from your special mug and sigh with the first bite of your soup. You’re here. You’re going to be safe in his arms tonight, fast asleep, not face-down under the harsh flood-

The image of your bloated body, drowned and lifeless, jolts through his system like an ice bath.

You’re here. You’re here. You’re here.

He stirs the soup around the pot.

The water of the shower shuts off when it’s just about done. He pulls down two bowls from the overhead cabinet and ladels some into both. Though he doesn’t really have an appetite, he knows he should eat something. Maybe the normalcy of a quiet night in will bring it back. For now, he puts more of the savory concoction in your bowl than in his.

Your socked feet don’t make much sound as you shuffle through the apartment to the kitchen. The sleeves of one of his many cardigans is bunched up at your elbows, as they’re far too long on you otherwise. The sight of you in his clothes - something he didn’t lay out for you to change into, nonetheless - only makes the fear in his chest ache even more.

You smile at him, apologetic and grateful all at once. “I’m ready for your lecture now,” you say. He can see the way you seem to brace for it. The way you avoid looking him directly in the eye, like a child who knows they’ve done something bad and is about to be grounded for it. The way you pick at the threads of the cardigan, restless and anxious. The way your shoulders bunch up toward your ears without you even realizing, preparing for the blow of his scolding.

It’s all too much.

You look up at him with wide-eyed confusion as he crosses the short distance between you and wraps you up in a tight hug. His face is pressed securely into the crook of your neck. His hands rest on your back, drawing you close to his body. The warm air of his sigh graces your skin when you hug him back.

“Zayne?” You gently pet his hair. He doesn’t let you pull back to see his face.

In all your time with him, he’s never hugged you like this before. You can feel the way his fingers curl around the knit of his cardigan, the slight shudder in his breath, the tension in his muscles.

“Please,” he whispers - begs, “don’t do that again.”

Slowly, as the realization begins to sink in, you squeeze him tighter.

It’s easy to throw yourself into danger - you do it every single day at work. If you get hurt, you’re saving someone else the pain. If you get a scratch, a civilian doesn’t. If you break a leg, someone else gets the chance to run away. It’s a commendable trait for a Hunter.

You didn’t realize how painful that would be for someone else.

“I thought… I thought getting back home would… I didn’t want you to be alone.” The explanations all feel hollow, for how true they are.

“What if you didn’t make it?” he questions. His voice is tight with emotion. It’s locked away under a layer of severity. “Nobody had any idea where you were. All I knew was that you weren’t at work. If the storm overpowered you, we wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t know.” He holds you tighter. “I’d rather spend one night alone than the rest of my nights alone. Do you understand?”

You nod immediately. “I’m sorry.”

He exhales shakily. “Please, think of your own safety first. Just once.” His fingers slowly release their hold on you. His shoulders fall as he reluctantly lets you go. His eyes stare into yours like a turbulent forest, trees kicked all around by hurricane winds. “Are you still cold?” he changes the subject. You let him.

“A little.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the counter with the bowls of soup and your favorite mug. “We can eat this on the couch. By sitting together, we can conserve our warmth.”

You tug on his shoulder lightly. He leans down without restraint, watching you. You kiss his cheek. “I love you,” you remind him, feeling as though you need to after the hell you must have put him through.

He closes his eyes for a second, taking in those wonderful words. When he opens them again, the hurricane has been reduced to nothing more than a light breeze. He looks at you with all the love of winter giving way to spring. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc

#fanfic #fanfiction #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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dissapointu · 3 days ago

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hihii!! may u do how arcane characters would react to a surprise birthday party that their partner made all for them?? happy early birthday!

Thank you so much! I really appreciate it

———————————————————————-

Jinx

Jinx would be overwhelmed with joy, and there’s a good chance she’ll burst into tears of happiness. She might have expected something small but is totally floored by the effort you put into the party. She’d giggle uncontrollably, maybe even bouncing around in excitement, throwing hugs and kisses everywhere. “You really did this for me?” she’d ask, blinking away happy tears. The party would be full of confetti, loud music, and chaos—but in the best way possible. She’d want everyone to know how much she appreciates you, giving you a huge hug and yelling, “This is the best birthday ever!” She’s also probably plotting some wild surprise for your next birthday, inspired by all the love and attention she’s getting.

Vi would be absolutely stunned, her usually tough exterior softening in a moment of pure shock. She’d never expect anyone to go all out for her birthday, so when she sees the party you’ve prepared, she’s left speechless for a moment. Once the realization sinks in, her face lights up, and she’d probably pull you into a huge, tight hug, murmuring, “This is… wow. You didn’t have to.” She’d be so proud of you for putting in the effort. Expect her to spend the rest of the day grinning ear to ear and holding your hand, making sure everyone knows how lucky she feels. Vi’s the kind of person who would go all out for you in return.

Sevika

Sevika would be a little thrown off at first, not really knowing how to react. She’s not used to being the center of attention, and it takes her a moment to process that the party is for her. Once the surprise sets in, she’d stand there blinking for a moment, before letting out a deep chuckle. “You’re gonna make me cry, aren’t you?” she’d say, smiling softly but hiding the warmth in her eyes. She’d probably pull you aside after the party to thank you in a private moment, telling you how much it meant to her that you thought about her. While she might not show it off in front of everyone, the gesture would hit her deep, and she’d keep that feeling close to her heart.

Silco

Silco would initially be cautious and slightly wary, as he’s not a fan of surprises, especially big ones. However, once he sees how much effort you’ve put into the party, his defenses would lower. He’d watch you for a while, making sure everything is going smoothly, and a small smile would tug at his lips as he observes how much you care for him. When he finally speaks, his voice would be low and sincere, “This… this is for me?” His gratitude would be quiet but deep, and he’d make sure to give you a private thank you later, pulling you close and telling you how much you mean to him.

Vander

Vander would be absolutely delighted, and he’d show it in his own quiet, dignified way. His face would soften as he takes in the sight of the party you planned for him. He’d give you a warm smile and a gentle, loving hug, probably saying something like, “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, but I appreciate it.” He’s the type to keep his emotions close to the chest, but you’d know from the tenderness in his touch and the way he lingers by your side all day that he’s truly touched. Vander would spend the evening making sure you felt just as appreciated for your efforts.

Ekko

Ekko would be incredibly touched and might get a little emotional. He’d probably look around at the party, checking out all the little details you put together, and get lost in how much you care. “This is… all for me?” he’d ask in disbelief. Then, he’d grin widely and throw his arms around you in a tight hug. “I love it! You really know how to make a day special, huh?” He’d be the type to take a moment to look at you with a soft smile, knowing how lucky he is. He’d make sure to show his gratitude by keeping you close for the rest of the night and doing something extra special just for you, like taking you for a late-night ride or treating you to your favorite food.

Jayce

Jayce would be completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. He’s used to big presentations and events, but when it’s all for him, especially from you, it hits different. He’d take a moment to appreciate the thoughtfulness behind it and then give you a big hug. “This is… amazing. You really know how to spoil me, don’t you?” His gratitude would shine through in his soft smile and tender gestures. Jayce would probably get a little shy under all the attention but would spend the whole night making sure you felt appreciated too, maybe even giving you a special gift or a thoughtful compliment.

Viktor

Viktor would be the most surprised. He’s not one to expect a lot of attention, especially not a full party, but when he sees what you’ve done for him, his heart swells with warmth. He’d probably stand there for a moment, eyes wide, before coming over to you, pulling you into a heartfelt embrace. “This… is incredible. You’ve done so much for me.” Viktor would be genuinely touched by your thoughtfulness and would make sure to spend the evening showing you just how much he appreciates you. His gestures would be soft and sincere—possibly writing you a note or doing something small but meaningful just for you.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be in complete awe of the party you planned. She’s not used to receiving such a grand gesture, so she’d be a little shy at first but incredibly grateful. “You did all of this?” she’d ask, her voice soft with disbelief. She’d smile brightly, her eyes lighting up with love, before immediately pulling you into a hug. Caitlyn would be the type to offer her help throughout the day, ensuring that everything goes perfectly for you as well. The two of you would share intimate moments where she thanks you over and over, giving you sweet words of appreciation.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be deeply moved by the effort you put into the surprise. She’s used to grandeur, but when it’s something so personal, she’d be incredibly impressed. “This is… beyond my expectations,” she’d say with a rare, genuine smile, stepping closer to you. Mel would not only appreciate the thoughtfulness but would also be grateful for how it made her feel seen and loved. She’d spend the evening making sure you feel special too, maybe giving you a gift or whispering something sweet in your ear. She’s all about making you feel like royalty, just as you made her feel.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be stunned, her usual control slipping for a brief moment as she takes in the party you’ve thrown for her. She’d look at you with a mixture of admiration and surprise, saying, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” She might not show her emotions overtly, but you’d know she’s deeply touched by your gesture. Ambessa would spend the evening making sure you feel just as appreciated, offering you quiet compliments and a touch of her rare tenderness.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would be blown away by how much effort you put into the surprise. She’s usually reserved, but seeing the party you’ve organized for her would make her heart flutter. She’d take a moment to appreciate the small details and give you a soft, adoring smile. “This is… perfect,” she’d say, her voice warm with affection. She’d hold your hand the rest of the day, taking every opportunity to show her gratitude through sweet gestures and soft words. Maddie would feel incredibly lucky to have someone like you.

Lest (she/her)

Lest would be so touched, and her usual cool demeanor would melt away in the face of your love and effort. She’d be a little stunned, standing there for a second trying to process how much you care. “This is too much… but I’m not complaining,” she’d tease, a soft smile on her face. Lest would spend the rest of the night making sure you’re spoiled in return, showering you with affection and showing you just how much this surprise means to her.

I hope you like these headcanons! thank you so much for the kind words! 💖

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zenlesszonezero · 19 days ago

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Join Zenless Zone Zero with Tsukishiro Yanagi, the deputy leader of Hollow Special Operations Section 6! Beneath her ordinary office lady exterior lies a meticulous, emotionally intelligent big sister to the team.

#zzzero #zenless zone zero #yanagi #gaming #anime game

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doctorbitchcrxft · 1 day ago

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Long-Distance Call | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: lots of arguing, angst, everyone's saying things they don't mean, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5056

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For hours most nights recently, you watched Dean sleep. In the dim light coming in through the cheap curtains in motel rooms, you would make out the details of his face and trace your eyes along them. He was just so beautiful, and you considered yourself incredibly lucky for every day you got to spend with him; despite the fact that those days were coming to an end.

Dean knew you hadn’t been sleeping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him why.

Sam was driving himself crazy talking to witch doctors, professors, and demonologists trying to wrap his head around a way to break Dean’s deal. You didn’t get involved, though; you knew it was futile to do so.

You weren’t sure if feeling helpless and knowing the situation was helpless was better than feeling helpless and trying to gain control of the situation, but you knew Sam probably felt as horribly as you did.

“Y’know, someday, if we ever get a house— it could happen!” you assured Dean off his skeptical look. “We should get a couch. It’d be better for our backs than sitting on Baby or these shitty mattresses.”

You sat up facing Dean who lounged on the headboard in your shared motel room. Tension had been high between the brothers recently, and you decided it was best for the three of you to bunk separately.

“You are annoyingly optimistic, you know that?” he replied.

“I like to think of myself as more of a realist,” you returned. “But I’m trying to be more like you lately.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. His eyes held such an intensity when he looked at you.

In vulnerable moments like these, you couldn’t bear to look back at him. You opted for looking down at the mattress or, really, anywhere other than his face. “I mean, your whole thing is being annoyingly biting and sarcastic and— I mean, you just have the most amazing sense of humor— even when things suck major ass. And I don’t know how you do it. But… it’s admirable.” When your eyes returned to his face, he was looking at you with such pride and admiration.

“What?” you asked.

“I just love you,” he said.

You grinned widely and reached for his hand. You held it for just a moment before speaking again. “When are you gonna tell Sam?”

“What?”

“That we can’t save you.”

He sighed. “(Y/N)—”

“No, Dean, he deserves to know.” You shifted to your knees from your cross-legged position. “He’s on a wild goose chase instead of enjoying the time he has with you.”

“He’s a grown man, he can make his own choices,” Dean insisted, hand retreating from yours. He crossed his arms over his chest.

You gave him a look. “And maybe he’d make different choices if he had all the information about the situation available to him.”

“Alright, professor, no need to lecture me,” he grumbled, getting out of bed.

“Dean—! Don’t get mean just because you’re pissed at yourself and this whole situation,” you said, standing to face him. “Look, I’m only saying something because I don’t want the last few weeks of your life to be spent fighting with your brother.”

“Way to put that in perspective, (Y/N), thank you,” Dean spat.

“See, this is when your attitude pisses me off beyond belief,” you argued. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you, and you’re being a complete dick. This didn’t have to turn into a fight, and I’m not understanding why it did!”

“Because you’re my girlfriend, not my fucking therapist,” he responded. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life.”

“Okay, this clearly isn’t about me.” You shook your head, turning away from him to grab your shorts and shoes.

“Then, what’s it about, (Y/N)?”

You turned back to him. “Clearly, this is about your deal.” “Oh, my god,” Dean scoffed.

“You’re runnin’ out of time. You’re scared, and you’re lashing out. It’s crap. I only wanna help you because I love you,” you told him. “And I’m not gonna tolerate you getting mean with me just because I told you something you didn’t wanna hear.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked, seeing you stomp toward the door.

“Out,” you replied. “Don’t follow me.”

***

That night, after yet another argument, you convinced Dean to let you sleep in his car and have him take the bed because you knew you wouldn’t get much sleep anyway. You were hurt and angry, but you missed holding Dean. You missed memorizing his features while he slept and finally seeing him at peace.

And the next morning, the situation was no better. Now, instead of Dean and Sam fighting, it was you, Dean, and Sam fighting.

Sam had gone to talk to another person about how to potentially break Dean’s deal. “So, the professor doesn't know crap.”

“Shocking,” Dean commented. “Pack your panties, guys, we're hitting the road.”

“What? What's up?” Sam asked.

“That was Bobby.” He gestured to the phone he’d just hung up. “Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio, and he thinks there's a spirit involved.”

“So, you two were talking a case?”

“No, we were actually talking about our feelings. And then our favorite boy bands,” Dean replied dryly. “Yeah, we were talking a case!”

“Dean, stop being an ass,” you scolded.

“Well, get Sam to stop asking stupid questions.” Sam huffed. “So, a spirit? What?”

“Yeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phone was going haywire, computer was flipping on and off,” Dean explained. “This is not ringing your bell?” He pressed when Sam looked at him skeptically.

“Well, sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're already on a case,” the younger one replied.

“Whose?” Dean asked.

“Yours!”

“Right. Yeah. Well, you coulda fooled me,” the older scoffed.

“What the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?” Sam protested.

“Chasing our tails, that's what. Sam, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two-bit carny act in the lower forty-eight. Nobody knows squat! And we can't find Bela, we can't find the Colt. So until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job.”

“We should summon Ruby,” Sam suggested.

“I'm not gonna have this fight with you.” Dean shook his head.

Sam continued anyway. “She said she knows how to save you.”

“About that, Dean has something he wants to tell you.” You turned to your partner expectantly with your arms folded.

“What?” Sam asked, looking between the two of you.

Dean was giving you a glare which you returned.

“Dean, what?” Sam asked again.

“She can’t save me,” Dean answered finally, still holding your glare.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam turn back to you. “(Y/N)—?”

“She told us she can’t save him, Sam,” you admitted.

Sam turned his anger toward you. “Whoa, so you’ve known this whole time and haven’t told me?”

“It wasn’t mine to tell, Sam!”

“Yeah, but the both of you still kept a secret from me,” he responded.

“You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?” Dean snapped.

You turned to the car.

“Where are you going?” Dean called after you.

“Guess we’re going to Ohio.”

***

You were silent for the entirety of the ride to the deceased’s house. Dean and Sam only spoke to make a snarky remark directed at each other or at you, but you refused to respond.

You asked the woman what happened to her husband, and she reluctantly told you that he kept talking to a woman named Linda on the phone. However, there was no one on the other line when she would pick it up to check.

Curious about who this woman could have been, you and the brothers returned to the motel to research.

“Linda's a babe. Or, was,” Dean commented.

Your heart dropped. You knew he was kidding, but now was so not the time to make jokes like that. “Don’t say shit like that, please.”

“She’s dead, (Y/N),” he replied dryly. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I just think it’s in really poor taste to say that right now considering the state our relationship’s in,” you told him, trying to remain as calm as possible.

He slammed his laptop shut. “Are you seriously picking a fight with me over this? Right now?”

Sam interrupted before you could respond. “Oh-kay! That’s enough. Who’s Linda?”

“Linda Bateman.” Dean turned his eyes away from you. “She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts.”

“So what happened?” Sam asked.

“Drunk driver hit them head on. Ben walked away.”

“So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?” Sam wondered aloud.

“You would think, but Linda was cremated. So why's she still floating around?”

“You got me,” Sam shrugged.

“What about that, uh, caller I.D?” Dean asked his brother, referring to the number he’d found on Ben’s phone.

“Turns out, it's a phone number,” Sam replied. “It's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks.”

“So, why use that number to reach out and touch someone?” Dean returned.

“Got me there too, but we should put a trace on it.”

“Well how the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over one-hundred years old?”

Sam suggested that the three of you should head to Ben’s phone company’s local office posing as representatives of their headquarters.

“You guys go ahead without me,” you said.

“Oh, c’mon, (Y/N)—”

You cut Dean off. “No. Both of us need space before we kill each other. So, please. Go.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled and stormed out of the room.

Sam stayed behind with you for a moment. “I’m sorry about him,” he said.

You sniffled, wiping away tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “It’s okay. Just a rough patch, I guess. Call me when y’all have something.”

He nodded and pulled you into a hug. Sam placed a quick kiss on the crown of your head before following his brother out of the door.

***

Sam called to inform you that the number had called over a dozen people multiple times over the last week. So, you and the Winchesters split up to investigate. Without a car, you stayed in the motel room and called the numbers Sam had forwarded to you posing as a representative of the phone company. One of the people you’d spoken to said that he’d been hearing his deceased brother calling him to reconcile the broken relationship they’d had when his brother passed away.

Just as you hung up the phone with him, Dean burst into the room and immediately started pacing.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

Dean didn’t answer.

Sam sat at the table in the room. “He said our dad called him.”

“No fucking way,” you breathed out. “You really think it was him?”

“I don't know, maybe,” Dean grunted.

“Well, what did he sound like?” Sam asked.

“Like Oprah!” the older brother snapped. “Like Dad; he sounded like Dad, what do you think?”

“What did he say?” you questioned.

“My name,” Dean replied.

“That’s it?” Sam pressed.

“Call dropped out.”

You shook your head and folded your arms, sitting cross-legged on Sam’s bed. After the recent fights with Dean, you’d decided to get a room separate from the two brothers and had been hanging out in their room all day. “Why would he even call in the first place, Dean?”

“I don't know, (Y/N)! I’m not a fucking psychic,” he snarked. “Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town? But I mean, other people are hearing from their loved ones, why can't we? It's at least a possibility, right?”

You wanted to chew him out for snapping at you like that, but you truly had no energy to put up another fight.

“Yeah, I guess?” Sam replied in your place.

“Okay, so what if....” Dean trailed off, only looking at his brother. “What if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back? What do I say?”

“Hello,” you suggested.

“Hello?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes.

“That's what you come back with. Hello?” Dean continued.

“Fuck off, Dean,” you sneered.

Dean huffed, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door.

Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look and turned to the door to stare after his brother.

You sighed and buried your face in your hands.

“(Y/N)?”

You picked your head up.

“What’s happening to you guys?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, tearing up. “We started fighting ‘cause I told him to tell you about the whole ‘Ruby’ thing, and I said some mean shit, and he said some mean shit, and it’s just a mess now.”

Sam gave you another puppy-dog-eyed look.

“It’ll be fine, though. I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

If it was even possible, Sam’s face dropped even further.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you smiled lopsidedly, knowing he just didn’t know how to help. “Can we talk about something other than my boy drama?”

Sam nodded. “Sure.”

***

For the next few hours, you scoured the internet for information on the “SHA33” number that was calling these poor people.

Dean returned with caustic remarks to spare. “Find anything?” he asked Sam while pretty much blatantly ignoring you.

“After three hours, I’ve found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here,” Sam sighed, shutting his laptop.

“Me neither, Dean, thanks for asking,” you said.

“Well, you know, you think a Stanford education and a high school hook up rate of zero-point-zero would produce better results than that,” Dean scoffed at Sam.

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned, hoping to elicit some sort of a response from Dean.

He shot you a glare, but other than that, he said nothing. Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet. “Motel pamphlet rack.” He dropped it on the coffee table along with a few books. “Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison.”

“So what?” you asked.

Sam grabbed a book and leafed through it.

Dean just raised his eyebrows at you as Sam looked up from the book.

“You're kidding,” he said.

Dean smirked as his brother.

***

Well, a huge waste of time was the only thing Dean’s suggestion led to. The tour you went on at a museum showed the invention Thomas Edison believed could communicate with spirits and informed you that he was a devout occultist. However, the “spirit phone” didn’t set off the EMF detector.

Sleep refused to claim you. Your anxiety kept your mind racing through the long hours of the night. You sat at the table in your room staring at the door just waiting for Dean to knock. However, despite it being three in the morning, he hadn’t come yet. Your fights had all been stupid and petty, but both of you were too stubborn to be the first to admit fault.

And with each passing night, you could feel the clock ticking. You knew Dean was running out of time, and you just wanted him to hold you again. As the sun rose, your heart sank knowing he hadn’t come to make things right with you.

You stayed in your room upset until Sam called you to come over to theirs.

“What’s up?” you asked upon entering.

“That girl Lanie—” Sam was referring to the victim he’d spoken to— “her Mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night.”

“That sucks,” said Dean, typing furiously on his laptop.

“What… are you doing, Dean?” you asked hesitantly.

He looked at you briefly; the expression on his face confusing. He looked back down at his computer. “I think my dad’s right. I think the demon is here. Check it out.” He handed you some papers and dug around in his bag.

“What is this, weather reports?” you asked, leafing through the papers.

“Omens. Demonic omens,” he responded. “Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks.”

Trepidatiously, you said, “I don't remember any lightning storms.”

“Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology, either,” he snapped.

‘So much for us being civil,’ you thought.

“But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me; wearing some poor dude's meat,” Dean finished.

Sam took some of the pressure off you. “And it’s following you because…?” he asked.

“I guess I'm big game, y’know? My ass is too sweet to let outta sight.” Dean threw a wink at you, and you were getting incredibly thrown off by his changing attitude.

“Okay. Sure,” Sam snorted.

Dean snatched the papers back from you. “Don't get too excited, Sammy. Might pull something.” He stood from the bed and moved away from you and his brother.

“Dean, look, I wanna believe this man, I really do…”

Dean cut his brother off. “Then believe it! if we get this sucker, it's Miller Time.”

“Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon? I mean, not just send it back to hell, but kill it?” Dean’s eyes lit up. “I've checked it out. This is heavy duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century.”

“Dean,” you said softly. “I checked on it, too. So did Sam. So did Bobby.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed.

Sam jumped in. “Look, it definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon.”

“No evidence it can't,” he rebutted.

“Dean…” you trailed off, not wanting to start a bigger fight.

“Hey, as far as I'm aware the only one of us who has actually been to Hell is my dad. And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work,” he snapped.

“Maybe!” you replied. “I hope so; for your sake. But we gotta be sure.”

“Why aren't we sure?” he asked.

“’Cause I don't know what's going on around here, Dean!” you cried. “I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits—”

“Wow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash, (Y/N), people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!” he shot back.

You held his stare venomously. Dean eventually dropped his head in frustration.

“Dad tell you where to find the demon?” Sam asked carefully.

“I'm waiting on the call!” he shouted.

The tension in the room was thick, and you had no idea what to say.

Sam sighed deeply and tried to change the subject. “I told Lanie I'd stop by.”

Dean scoffed. “Oh, good, yeah. No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile I'll be here getting ready to, y’know, save my life.”

Sam shook his head and turned to the door. You just stared at the floor.

“You two are unbelievable, y’know that?” Dean shouted. “I mean, for months, we’ve been tryin’ to break this demon deal. Now, Dad’s about to give us the fuckin’ address, and you blink? The man is dead, and you’re still butting heads with the guy?!” He turned his attention to you. “And you? What happened to us? What happened to your ‘unconditional support’?”

“Dean, you still have it!” you replied. “That was never in question! What I’m questioning is where your fuckin’ head’s at. Because this is not you.”

“Oh, god.” He rolled his eyes and began to pace.

“I’m not gonna mince my words,” you began, anger boiling to the surface. “This is fuckin’ crazy. I mean, there is no proof. At all. All you’re acting on is blind faith.”

“Yeah, well, maybe!” He shouted back. “Y’know, maybe that's all I got, okay?”

You held his stare, the anger melting out of you at his words. When you could see tears forming in his eyes, he looked at the floor.

Sam piped up. “Please. Just please don't go anywhere until I get back. Okay, Dean? Please.”

Dean stayed silent.

“C’mon, (Y/N),” Sam urged you.

You looked up at Dean. For the first time that week, he offered you a kind word. “Go. It’s okay.”

You nodded. As you turned to go, you stared over your shoulder back at Dean.

***

At Lanie’s house, the young girl got you up to speed on what happened to her the night before.

“Have you told your father about any of this?” Sam asked her.

“And bother him at work?” she replied. “No. He wouldn't believe me anyway, he'd just chuck me into therapy.”

“So what did your mother say?” you asked.

“She wanted to see me. So at first I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery,” she sniffled.

“Did you?” Sam prompted.

Lanie nodded meekly. “Nothing happened. But then she started asking me to do other things.”

“What sort of things?”

She almost seemed embarrassed to say. “Bad things.”

You crouched down and looked up at her, breaking her gaze from the floor. “Lanie, please. Can you tell me what happened? It’s very important.”

She teared up, young eyes swimming in fear and sadness. “Mom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet.”

You waited patiently for her to continue.

“She wanted me to take his sleeping pills.” She stopped for a minute to gather her courage. “Take all of his sleeping pills.”

“She wanted you to kill yourself?” Sam couldn’t help himself from saying.

She nodded, crying harder. “Why would my Mom want me to do that?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know.”

“She just kept saying, ‘come to me,’ like, a million times,” she hiccuped.

Your eyes widened. “Oh, sweet girl, that's not your mother.” You stood from the ground.

Sam told Lanie, “Listen to me. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless I say to, alright?”

You started down the stairs and listened carefully; just one set of footsteps was following you. You turned back to see Lanie still at the top of the stairs. “You okay?”

Her breathing was quick. “Where's Simon?”

“Simon?” you asked.

“My little brother,” she responded.

The next thing you knew, you were watching Sam shove the little boy out of the way of a speeding truck from the porch of Lanie’s house.

Immediately, you called Dean. “Dean, it’s not your dad,” you rushed out.

“Then what is it, (Y/N)?” he asked flippantly.

“A crocotta,” you answered.

“What is that, a sandwich?” he scoffed.

“They typically live in filth. Mimic loved ones. Whisper, ‘Come to me,’ then lure you into the dark and swallow your soul,” you stated.

Sam motioned for you to head to his rental car as soon as he delivered Simon to his sister safely. You followed quickly.

“A crocotta, right, damn, that makes sense,” he snarkily replied.

“Dean, c’mon, babe—”

He cut you off. “Hey, don't these things live in filth?”

“Yeah,” you replied.

“Oh, god, at the phone company there were these flies. Pretty much as soon as we got down to the basement where this guy Stewie was hangin’ out,” he rushed out.

“Okay, uh, okay,” you nodded. “Meet us there.”

You brought Sam up to speed on the conversation you’d had with Dean, and as night fell, he sped to the phone company.

***

Despite calling Dean several times, you and Sam had to keep moving forward with the case. You watched as the man Sam described to you as Stewie unlocked his car. Silently, you rushed him with a metal spike. You shoved him down onto the car and held a metal spike to the back of his neck.

Stewie grunted. “What the hell?!”

“I know what you are,” you spat. “And I know how to kill you.”

“Wait, wait— Please! If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something I- I can fix that. I am your friend!” he stammered.

Confusion overtook you, and you turned to an equally confused Sam. You suddenly noticed a man standing behind him with a bat. “Sam, look out!” you cried.

But it was too late. He was hit over the head with a bat, and you released the man in front of you. You threw your spike at him, but he caught it just before it hit him. He stalked toward you, and the man smiled widely. The man you’d been holding down shoved you to the ground from behind, and you were knocked out, too.

***

When you next came to, your wrists and feet were bound; that was the first thing you felt. Your head pounded, and your wrists ached from how tight the bindings were. When you opened your eyes, you turned your head to see Stewie was dead and bleeding profusely from his chest.

You shrieked in horror, and then, the man who’d knocked you out appeared in front of you. “The fuck is wrong with you?!” you snarled.

He just laughed mockingly as he stalked between you and Sam.

You realized something. “My last call with Dean. That was you. You led us here.”

“Some calls I make, some calls I take, but you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap,” he chuckled. He moved over to a telephone exchange cabinet and sighed in ecstasy.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked.

“I’m killing your brother,” he smiled. “Or maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes.”

***

The creature removed the knife from the chest of the man beside you. You grimaced at the wet squelching sound it made as he did.

“Y’know, mimicking Dean's one thing. But my Dad?” Sam complimented mockingly. “That's a hell of a trick.”

“Well, once I made you two as hunters, it was easy. I found Dean's number, then your number, then your father's numbers. Then, emails, voicemails, everything. You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked,” the creature grinned.

“Dean’s not an idiot,” you stated sharply. “He’s not gonna kill that guy.”

“Then the guy kills him,” he shrugged. “And I kill you two. And here I thought I was only getting one hunter.” He stalked toward you, and you struggled harder. “Now, I’ve got another. And a pretty one, at that.”

You reared back and spat in his face. Almost like a reflex, he immediately backslapped you.

Unfazed, your head returned to a neutral position and you just glared at him.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he said, tracing the knife down your cheek. “Technology. Makes life so much easier. Used to be, I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night. But they had community, they all looked out for each other, I'd be lucky to eat one or two souls a year. Now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call. You're all so connected. But you've never been so alone.”

Just as the man’s jaw unhinged like a snake to reveal rows of teeth, Sam came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his neck in a chokehold. You sat patiently while Sam and the crocatta struggled for the knife. You watched both men slam each other into various surfaces until they disappeared from view.

You couldn’t do anything to help yourself, and you anxiously waited for— hopefully— Sam’s return into the room.

Much to your relief, Sam stumbled back in minutes later. You grinned up at him happily.

***

You were the one to drive Sam’s rental car back to the motel seeing as he was injured and sore from his fight with the monster. You went at least twenty miles-an-hour over the speed limit for the entirety of the drive.

You burst into Sam and Dean’s room, and you began to panic when you didn’t see him there.

Then, you checked your room, breathing out in relief when you saw Dean holding a wash cloth to his eye. “Dean!” You ran to him, kneeling down in front of him.

He looked up at you, and you immediately kissed him passionately. He returned your kiss eagerly. When you broke away from him, you took the cloth from Dean’s hands gently to help him clean the wound.

“Sweetheart,” he said. “I— I’m so sorry.”

You placed your free hand on his knee. “We’ll talk in a minute, alright? Let me clean you up first.”

He nodded.

***

“There,” you told him having placed the final bandage on his assortment of cuts. “That guy kicked the shit out of you.” Although Dean would normally laugh at jokes like that, his countenance was completely serious. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“I know,” you said softly. “I am, too.”

“I just— I lashed out, and that wasn’t fair to you. You were right,” Dean admitted. “It scares me how well you can fuckin’ read me. And with everything going on, I just—”

“I get it,” you cut him off. “I’m sorry, too. I was being petty. I got mean, too.” You paused for a moment. “I’m sorry it wasn’t really your dad.”

Dean looked down at the ground. “Naw, I gave you a hell of a time on this one.” He huffed. “I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just…” he trailed off, unable to finish.

Your eyebrows scrunched sadly, and your eyelashes flickered.

“I’m scared, sweetheart. I’m… I’m really scared.” As tears pooled in his eyes, he couldn’t seem to meet yours.

You nodded, tearing up as well. “I know.”

“I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, the last act of a desperate man,” he tried to joke through his stifled cries.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there’s nothing wrong with having hope, Dee,” you told him gently.

“Hope doesn't get you jack squat,” he scoffed. “I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, y’know? I mean, the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.”

“And I’m right there with you,” you told him. “Every step of the way. To Hell and back.”

Dean offered a lopsided smile. “To Hell and back.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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monamipencil · 15 hours ago

Text

ok wow, took me 4 hours to read and annotate this.

i love LOVE the banner, it rly like set the mood of the story and i love your editing skills !!

whoops, this is long.

— plot; easily my most fav wonwoo fic. oh god, i was from the moment you announced in front of me was in the works. angsty fic with best friend wonwoo, i was SOLD. plus unrequited love? pining? realistic characters? yes. the angstiest piece written so beautifully and done with so much effort. and this hits way too close to home. i literally felt called out at multiple points of reading. i just love how realistic and gut wrenching this is.

— oc; she's an idiot, i love her. honestly, i feel like she's me lmao. everything from pining like an idiot to the buzzfeed unsolved and aot, man. she's so well sculptured in a way her characterization is realistic. her sensitivity, the willingness to let him walk over her like that, pining, naivety, accepting him no matter what. fucking hell, she wasn't even angry at last, just so tired and soft with her wordings, only breaking down by the very end. she needed a push to take a stand for herself and i'm so glad she did!

— wonwoo; *sighs* the very introduction and he was already being a dick. but goddamn the fact he's genuinely oblivious to it? when i was expecting toxic bsf! wonwoo, i didnt expect him to be a cardboard cut-out of he-who-shall-not-be-named. ig every girl has stumbled across these type of guys. it would've been so easier to hate by just seeing the story from his pov. but introducing his thoughts and views made me fee pity for him. bcz yeah, he's human too and as much as he's despicable, i understand him. a true gray character. his feelings were so complex. the string of relationships that never worked out were so bitter to read about, him ghosting her yet always crawling back, the uncertainty when she started ignoring him, the jealousy, the anger. his character was so raw and human. as much as i feel sympathy for him, sometimes leaving ppl like this behind is the best answer.

— seokmin; ok, i was so enamored by this guy, that i completely overlooked the fact that he could have bad intentions. like?? if you read thru my annotations, i genuinely liked him? even when wonwoo said he knew what he was doing, i thought wonwoo was being stupid. ... until i heard it straight from seokmin. man, the twist? i was so shocked, i dont even know what's gonna happen lmao. this is crazy.

— the friends; i love them from what we've seen of them. the scene with gyu giving him a reality check? fuck yes, you need friends like that. not only was he looking out for her, he was looking out for him too. i loved it!

— annotations;

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you?

the angst is already hitting omfgggg

and the prologue feels like the opening to a movie, i love it so much.

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat.

asking the real questions here

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond.

nooo, but also yesss for the slowburn

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up.

that hurts..

But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

this is already hitting omfg

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that.

ow ow ow, ok.

but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else.

🙁 angst is angsting

Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife.

reading this while im on my periods is gonna punch me in the gut

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms.

🧍not me serving lanes with seokmin lmao

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him.

been there, done that. i am guilty your honor

You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there.

she’s down bad and attached af but I UNDERSTAND RAHH

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up.

🧍… i giggled

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder.

RAHHHHHHHH 🦅

“Of course, what are best friends for?”

ofc ofc … best friends …

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

this was so beautiful, i just had to point it out. Anna’s writing >>>>

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day.

alexa play, snow on the beach (anna’s version)

He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you.

fuck, i feel called out

Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love.

is this about me?

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea.

this fucking play is abt me

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year.

oh fucking hell, anna are you perhaps stalking me??? im having flashbacks

He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice.

wonwoo bro, what is this behaviour

Everything that you weren’t.

fuck, ok that hurts (i refuse to cry so early)

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

ik normally ppl would hate this, so do i. but been there, done that… not proud of it

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality.

your imagery ???? holy shit, i never thought of the siren metaphor in this way. anna, ur brain >>

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car.

🧍*sighs* pls dont tell me he’s gonna talk like this the entire time. Wtf jeon wonwoo

Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night.

listen, this is gonna be difficult if he's gonna keep acting like this

His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough.

Delulu is the solulu (in fiction)

The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

oh here comes the jealousy.

At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings.

asdfghjkl, jealousy is one ugly demon. I hate it

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back.

another hit in the gut, it seems so important at that time but looking back, nope.

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.”

🥺🥹 friends like this >>>

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo.

i need a seokmin in my life rn

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him.

lmao, i love soonyoung

huhu, im so READY for wonwoo’s pov

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.

I screamed when i saw this, FROM THE TEASER ASDFGHHJKL

He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling.

wow, try being her for a sec, my guy

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care.

10 points for self awareness!!

Because in his mind, you’re his best friend.

I folded so fucking fast, im not immune to possessiveness

[wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.

i am not immune to jeon wonwoo

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed.

yes yes YES, he’s jelly

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe.

i love his complexity. the most perfectly gray character, like any other human being. I love your characterisation of him so much!!

That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone.

Awww, this is cute but knowing how’s he gonna act in the future ….

“You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?”

i hate these typa relatives ??? like bro LOOK AT URSELF

Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed.

AHHH, ANNA U AND ME, WE ARE THE SAME PERSON omg i love buzzfeed unsolved.

Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit.

fuck this reminds me of him. anna, you stalker

And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all.

no fuck, everything reminds me of him wtf

He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun.

🧍u have a girl waiting for u back at home but i wont blame him

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less.

…… this hurts

Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon.

but i am happy for him. It’s important to not base ur happiness on someone else !!

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control.

uh…. Wonwoo ??

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!”

AOT MENTIONED

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,”

…. ??? im offended

He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer.

… yeah i think i know

The answer was you.

There it is

With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted.

oh it is warranted, trust me.

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare.

TELL IT, GIVE IT TO HIM, GYU

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression.

im hollering lmaooo

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes.

ok, i feel bad for him.

Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

poor guy, didn’t even realise it.

What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building?

💀 idk if i shud laugh im so sorry

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment.

nvm, this is so messy and so real

You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin.

Bro, just grow a pair and go talk to her instead of coming to conclusions on ur own wtf

The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind.

wonwoo, aren’t you her best friend? her sexual ventures now annoy you, hmmmmmmmm i seeee

Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him.

slow burn, yearning, ah yes the only two things keeping me alive

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions.

🧍… i did not expect her to block him just like that but queen knows her worth !!

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison.

i ….. uhm … this is messy

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard.

i feel bad for him but don’t balme her either rahhhhhh

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.”

HUH?????????? WAIT WHAT. WTF OH NO NO

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture.

oh ….. oh my god. wtf

He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less.

I KNEW IT

Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly.

Nooooo, wonwoo. i am very shocked by the turn of events

Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on?

damn this alluding to his prev relationships … makes me sick. I mean he didn’t know better but still …

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions.

😭wtf wonwoo

Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying.

i get him but boy pls, this is not the way

His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense.

understandable but stil smh

I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice.

SHE SAID IT, OMG SHE SAID IT

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue.

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone.

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade.

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems.

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone.

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits.

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit.

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think.

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.”

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen.

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh.

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak.

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance.

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed.

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly.

“Good night, Wonwoo.”

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one.

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat.

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway.

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together.

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you.

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide.

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond.

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up.

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation.

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once.

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises.

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts.

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else.

two.

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way.

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite.

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear.

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people.

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend.

“What did he say?”

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye.

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate.

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms.

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice.

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three.

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried.

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch.

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him.

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging.

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache.

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension.

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone.

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another.

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table.

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins.

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken.

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions.

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats.

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?”

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there.

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen.

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch.

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest.

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything.

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression.

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head.

“Of course, what are best friends for?”

four.

Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all.

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love.

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea.

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year.

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time.

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice.

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth.

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said.

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly.

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically.

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings.

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones.

five.

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you.

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him. The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him.

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios.

‘What if he likes you back?’

‘You never know until you try.’

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’

What if.

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality.

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen.

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5.

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary.

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends.

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza.

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is.

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar.

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night.

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car.

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you.

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough.

…

The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings.

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most.

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all.

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry.

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful.

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you.

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside.

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for.

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug.

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.”

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself.

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt.

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions.

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist.

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter.

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him.

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile.

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you.

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest.

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said.

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled.

“And I you.”

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night.

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them.

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened.

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ.

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead.

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh.

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters.

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics.

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you.

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep.

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok?

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one.

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him.

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning.

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing.

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two?

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling.

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been.

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it.

…

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him.

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them?

1:27 p.m. [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond.

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u. [1 photo attachment]

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today?

4:30 p.m. [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw.

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back.

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year.

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over.

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him.

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say.

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore.

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?”

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression.

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight.

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance.

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet.

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed.

[4:15 p.m. kst] [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved] [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards] [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit.

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat.

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all.

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment] [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing] [you: u better not snitch 😾] [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS] [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you.

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it.

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break.

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off.

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all.

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home.

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest.

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym.

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips.

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle.

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused.

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?”

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo.

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses.

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord.

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes.

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say?

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun.

“I’m Wonwoo.”

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep.

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number.

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer.

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation.

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon.

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for.

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on.

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time.

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them.

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested.

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks.

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out.

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.”

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday.

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together. It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend.

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do.

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts.

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence.

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on.

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer.

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that.

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him.

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party.

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table.

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop.

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted.

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you.

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end.

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs.

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses.

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice.

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest.

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny.

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare.

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend?

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself.

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you.

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more.

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?”

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it.

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses.

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you?

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything?

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be.

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him.

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.”

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs.

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy.

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests.

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought.

four.

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time.

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place.

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building?

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye.

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin.

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind.

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today.

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer.

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind. Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away.

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before.

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake.

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose?

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him.

[12:52 a.m.] [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?] [not delivered]

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list.

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms.

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions.

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off?

five.

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options.

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect.

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation.

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison.

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.”

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day.

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth.

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard.

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have.

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin.

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for.

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen.

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could.

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.”

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth.

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such.

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face.

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.”

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.”

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted.

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture.

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost.

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.”

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly.

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place.

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same.

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak.

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on?

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away.

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin.

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai��,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door.

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions.

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home.

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?” Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him.

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying.

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness.

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him.

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down.

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking.

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.”

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words.

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense.

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice.

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about? He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.”

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause.

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him.

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place.

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading.

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too.

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.” A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek.

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart.

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

#lola's recs <3 #yall #this is easily one of the best wonwoo fics i ever read #i love it so much #can't wait to read part 2!!

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otaku0411 · 1 day ago

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A Future Rewritten

Summary: After years of dreaming of parenthood, Y/n and Nanami face the devastating loss of their first pregnancy. The grief threatens to consume their relationship as Y/n struggles with feelings of guilt and inadequacy while Nanami fights to hold their bond together.

TW: Miscarriages, infertility, mention of alcoholism, and depression episodes

A/n: This is my first angst-like fanfic so please don’t be too harsh and my first JJk fanfic🥲

——————————————————————-

Both of y’all went to the doctor to see if there wer anything wrong that could affect yall fertility. The results came out great for Nanami. However for you, it said that you might be struggling with fertility issues. Doctor explained that it’s not impossible, but it will take a while longer for you to conceive. Feeling upset at the news, you try different herbs and positions that could increase your chance but nothing seems to work.

It became more difficult when friends and family would have get together and their children would be around playing in blissful innocence that they still have. There was one time where Gojo brought his son, and for some odd reason he was following Nanami around all day and your husband eventually gave in a play with him and even carried him on his back. That moment has you feeling so much pride but sadness because you couldn’t give him a baby. (It’s all your fault)

One morning, you woke up and immediately went to the bathroom and puke your gut out. This was abnormal, especially since you didn’t eat much of anything for dinner. Nanami knock on the door.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” He asked with concern in voice.

You flush the toilet and wash your hand and brush your teeth. “Everything good! Just needed to go to bathroom.” You chuckles, trying to play it off.

He doesn’t buy it one bit, he knows when you’re lying. He sighed” Okay but if you’re not feeling well, please tell me.”

“I will!” Nanami back up from the door and walked away.

You hate lying to him but you don’t want him to worry right now. You soon get ready for work and leave the house. Throughout the day, all you could think about is the vomit, but then you get a notification on your phone that says your cycles is 5 days late. Okay this is a sign!

After work, you when to the drugstore and went home. Luckily Nanami was still at work so you took the opportunity to take three pregnancy tests. You waited for 5 minutes. Those five minutes were the longest time you felt. Anticipated and nervous for the results. The timer went off and you decided to look.

Nanami comes home with takeout from your favorite restaurant. He shouted out your name to announce he’s home. You slowly come out of the hallway with both of your hands behind your back.

“Hey love I brought yo-…….what’s behind your back?”He quickly noticed how you were standing. He look around you to see if he get a peep but you dogged his attempts.

You had a big grin on your face as you were too excited. You show him the pregnancy test with two big bold lines. Nanami looks and his eyes begin to widen as the realization hits him.

“You’re…..pregnant?” A smile and excitement creep on his face.

You eagerly nodded your head and before you could say anything, Nanami pick you up and hug you tightly.

“We’re gonna be parents!!!!” He chanted loudly. You laugh at his excitement. This was the best news he could get all year! He slowly put you down to look at you.

“I’m so happy to be a father and to have you as the mother of my children.” He caressed you gently and put his hand on your stomach.

“I can’t wait to meet you little guy.”

The next few months was full of restfulness and excitement for the arrival of the baby. Nanami has ordered many pregnancy books and preparation for the baby as you’ve been dealing with the occasional nausea and fatigue and sickness that comes with the first trimester of pregnancy. You two were at every appointment making sure that the pregnancy was going well and that the baby was progressing successfully.

On the 12th week, Yall had went to the appointment for an ultrasound to see the baby. Y’all were very excited to see the little one and to see how they were growing in your belly and any updates that you two need to know. The nurse happily lead you guys to the room, place you down on the bed by the ultrasound screen and put the cold gel on your stomach as she put the wand onto the stomach and begin moving around to see the baby. You and your husband hold each other hand excited to see the baby not knowing what was to come. The nurse who once looked at the screen once with a smiley, happy face turn into a very neutral expression on expression.

The nurse looked at you two and told you “I’ll be right back.” She left and you two were wondering what was going on y’all waited a few minutes and then the doctor came in and told you the heartbreaking news.

“I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami but it appears that we could not have found a heartbeat we checked again and there are no sign of life.”

You two look at each other in shock at the new, not wanting to believe what the doctor is saying.

“What are you trying to say?” You didn’t comprehend what she’s saying, or rather what you don’t want to comprehend.

The doctor sighed as she basically realized she has to say the difficult part, “I’m saying you have miscarriage at 12 weeks.”

Hearing those words come out the doctor’s mouth of the room to be muffled and silence as the two you just looked at each other, not knowing how to express or what to say. The doctor explained that it was nothing that you have done and miscarriages commonly happen in the first trimester. All you could think inside your head was ‘what did I do? What’s wrong with me? How could I let this happen? Could I prevented this?!’ You asking these questions over and over again in your mind.

Nanami see that you space out and called you, “Honey? You okay?”

You snapped out and continue listening to the doctor.

The doctor continues explaining that it is possible to try again later down the line.

Y’all came to the hospital with a baby and now leaving without it. They induced your labor to get the baby and the placenta out. It was painful and caused discomfort for you and Nanami.

After the surgery, you was prescribed with medication to make sure everything clears out of your uterus and to make sure there are no complications after the miscarriage. you inform your job about a medical emergency and you need to have a week off from work.

Nanami drove you both home, the car drive was filled with silent. You put your purse on the table and just sat down on the couch looking down at the floor. You try to hold your stomach with a small bump that was once forming is no longer there. Nanami sat right beside you holding your hand, trying to come for you the best way he can. He’s processing the pain too but knows that it’s harder for you since you were carrying the baby.

“Do you wanna talk about this?” He ask you, he cares about you. He wants the best for you to make sure that everything is okay, but instead of just talking about it and spread your feelings, you shut down how can you be a wife? You can’t even give your partner a child

“What do you want to dinner?” You blurred out , not wanting to talk about the event that just happened back at the hospital no, we look so confused. Why are you not talking to him? You literally just had a miscarriage?! Nanami can see the way the pain as you look at the ground and knew that you didn’t wanna talk about it right then and there, so he just went along with it to make peace at the moment.

“I’ll take care of dinner. You don’t have to worry about cooking dinner.” He answer you with his soft tone, you nodded your head. “Okay, I’ll be in the bathroom.” You get up the couch and wash and left and went to the bathroom.

Once you close the door, all the tears that accumulated all day when the moment you got the news just start pouring out. You just sobbing as tears cover your face and cheeks. You’re a mess. You don’t know how to process this. When you thought you finally got a break and finally gonna be a mother. It was taken away from me just like that.

What was wrong with me? What? Why can’t I carry a baby in my stomach??

The week that you was off from work, you just laid in bed in silence. You did not eat sleep or eat or drink anything. The only time you got up really was to use the restroom. Sure you wash your face from time to time but other than that you did not do nothing, you barely even shower. The only reason you somehow survived is what because your husband cooked dinner and semi forced you to come down to eat dinner with him.

he tried to talk to you about the miscarriage, he wanted you to talk about it. He did not blame you for what happened. he blaming you for losing the baby. He mad at you cannot how can you be a good wife if you cannot give him a child what’s wrong with you?

Why it is so hard for me, but not for other women that’s all you could think about in your mind. Every second will consume of the miscarriage in the could’ve been and would’ve been and everything around it. You hated yourself for it, you failed as a woman, partner, and mother.

One night in bed , you were up looking at the ceiling just thinking about everything that happened. Kento saw that you wasn’t sleeping ”are you OK? You can’t sleep?” You look over to your right at him. “No, I’m not really tired right now.” He sighed, he knew why you’re up. He knows that you are too hard on yourself right now. “You know I’m not mad at you right?” You look away from him. You want to believe him you really do but all you can think of your mind is the opposite.

he’s gonna leave you for someone who can give him a child.

That’s all you can think about all that you worry about you turned your back at him “I’m going to Sleep. You have a good night.”

Nanami was shocked by your behavior. you never turn your back on him. But he wasn’t gonna give up on you. He pulled you close, with your back towards his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He whispered in your ear “I love you.” before he try to go to asleep.

The week you return from work, you put a mask on for your coworkers and carry on with your work and project that you had missed out like nothing happened. despite the effort, you were still thinking about the pregnancy at home, but at work all you can think about what project deadline, reports, and meetings.

You bury yourself in work, helping every project in the company and contribute to many groups around the department that you were in. Your supervisor ask if you want to stay a little later to finish the report and you happily answered yes. anything to not be at home and think about the miscarriage anything to not go home and be a disappointment to your husband at least at work you are something here. A somebody with purpose. Somebody who accomplish a lot of things here.

The next few weeks, all you did was work and overtime, work and overtime, work and overtime.

You’d come home exhausted from work and became close friends with your wine cellar. Indulging on a few glasses of wines and cocktails every other day after working overtime. That feeling of intoxication and praise at work helped block out the depress thoughts, even if it was for a couple hours.

After finishing a huge project at work, your team decided to go out and celebrating with drinks. At the bar, you were laughing and talking with the few coworkers you enjoyed spending time with. Y’all were having a good time and even offer Sasha, one of your colleagues and good friends, a drink. Normally she’d accept it but she shook her head.

“Not tonight. I’m not allowed to drink for the next few months.” She explained as her hands is placed on her belly. The whole team look at Sasha surprised but soon follow up with excitement. Many congrats her and ask about the baby. As those conversations were happening, you couldn’t help but think about your own pregnancy and how far along the baby would’ve been by now. You’d been 7-8 months along.

You congrat Sasha, paid for your tabs and quickly called it a night. But that didn’t stop the drinking. You went to the liquor store and got some Taylor Port and Patron. You made it home around 9:35 pm and immediately pour yourself a glass and chugged it. You pour yourself another glass when a voice behind you spoke.

“You’re drinking again?” He look you at very distressed. He seen the way you been acting the last few months and it’s getting worse.

“Yeah so what?” You replied as your mouth touch the glass with the alcohol entering your throat.

Nanami was tired. You come home late, smelling like liquor and being borderline drunk every other day was getting old and fast. He walked up to you and grabbed your glass.

“What the fuck?! Give it back!”

“No, I’m tired of seeing you like this (Y/n). Coming home late and drinking is not healthy and it’s not you!”

“So what?! It’s not like I’m hurting anyone.” You protest.

“You’re hurting me! And more importantly you’re hurting yourself! You can’t continue on like this. This is not the woman I married.”

Taking his word the wrong way you blurred out “Well go find another bitch who’d give you everything you want!”

Nanami look at you stunned by your words. Before he could say anything, you continued with slurring your words.

“Maybe you should end things with me, find another woman who will give you ALL the kids and babies you want instead of being with one who couldn’t even carry one in their first trimester.” As you yelled out, tears begin to form in your (e/c) eyes. You already imagine in your mind that he’d leave you, find someone else, marry her and have a family. A family with beautiful children. A family that doesn’t include you.

Silent was the only thing that was heard in the kitchen. Nanami spoke out softly, “Sweetheart…….,” as he walked closer towards you.

You just lost it. All the months of holding it in secret and emotional turmoil just came out as tears fall against your face. Nanami quickly held you tightly as you begin to cry out in his arms.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!”

“Hey hey, it’s okay-“

You abruptly cut him off “No it’s not! For two fucking years we’ve been trying to get pregnant. Over and over again all because I have a hard time getting pregnant! And I one time I did I fucked up and lost our baby!”

He stood there holding you as you vented out everything you’ve been feeling. This was a long time coming.

“I’m sorry I failed you…..” Your voice cracked as you spoke. Nanami look at you disappointed. Not at you, but at himself and how he wishes he tried harder to get you to open up sooner.

“Y/n, you can’t blame yourself for this. I hate seeing you blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault whatsoever.” You continue to sob as Nanami gently grab your chin to make you look at him.

“Look at me, you are strong, intelligent, and beautiful person inside and out. Our next pregnancy will be stronger and better. And you’ll be one hell of a mother.”

“But…..what if I never get pregnant again Kento. It took me years for just one. I know how much you desire to be a father……and I’m scared that we’ll separate because of—“

“Don’t.” He paused you. You look up at him confused and still upset.

“I don’t care if it takes two years, twenty years, or even if it never happens, Y/n. You are who I envision as the mother of my children, but more than that—you are my everything. If we can’t have children, I’ll still feel complete, because I have you. I see you in every vision of my future, holding my hand, laughing with me, growing old with me. Children or no children, you are my home and my forever. I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. Not now, not ever.”

You soon get overwhelmed with emotions from his speech. Sure he has said many heartfelt words before but this one is definitely up there. You buried yourself into his chest as you continue to cried out in sob with a soft “Kento….”

Y’all stay in position for a while, embracing each other after a long time since the miscarriage. Tonight has helped you two beginning to understand the importance of being vulnerable again. You two don’t know what to expect in the future ,but you guys know that regardless of it y’all have each other and that will be enough.

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #nanami x fem!reader #nanami angst

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defuckingthrone-dot-com · 1 day ago

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Lucky

A/N: BTW I’m still very much stuck here so I decided to write a lil something about it. (Pardon me, I don’t know the terms for what I should call this)

Sorry if this sucks, I did it while I had down time at work. Not proof read. Hope y’all like it.

Warnings; none, pure teeth rotting sweet fluff

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It’s had been a pretty good day so far, I was sitting next to Noah on one of the sofas in the creative studio where all of desigin for their merch took place.

All of the guys where gather together having a good time after a good day of work. We were drinking our favorite drinks cracking a joke here and there. If I’m being honest I don’t really bring much to the table when it comes to designing stuff but my favorite thing is to hang out with the boys especially Noah, he was one of my favorite people ever.

“So Y/N, what do you think about the designs so far?” Davis asked, he was head of designs here so I appreciated that he even asked for my opinion.

“I really like them, fans are gonna go crazy over them, so cool that this time around you guys don’t have limited quantities so everyone can really get what they want”, I said

“yeah that’s a plus, I’m really glad we where able to do that this time around” Jolly chimed after he took a sip of his drink.

The conversation went on for a little while about random topics here and there . And somehow we ended up talking about true crime which is one of my most favorite subjects.

“Oh yeah! I recently watched a documentary about serial killers” I took a breath “sometimes I can’t believe what a human being is capable of doing whatever the motive is”

Folio looked at me “I don’t know how you can watch all that stuff and not feel sick, you’re so brave”

I chuckled a bit at the comment “my family is big on horror so I grew up watching docs and horror movies”

“that explains it” Nick said laughing

As I went on to explain something else regarding the topic I noticed that Noah really wasn’t involved in the conversation, he was just humming and looking directly at me. I turned my body so i could fully face him.

“hey big boy, what’s got you thinking and smiling like that?” I said intrigued

“Oh nothing” he chuckled

“Please tell meeeee!” I made my best puppy eyes at him, completely putting on second plain the conversation happening in the background. “Are you even paying attention?” I asked.

“Fine I’ll tell you but you have to promise not to make fun of me” he said looking quizzically at me.

“I can’t promise anything” I said looking around to the others getting up from their seats and making their way around the room, but when I looked back and catched Noah’s brown eyes looking at right at me I couldn’t resist “okay fine I promise I won’t make fun of you”

He stared at me with a wide grin “ Oh I was just thinking about how lucky I am”

“Lucky?” I questioned

“yes lucky, lucky to have you.” Noah mentioned

“silly old me?” I said joking

“Absolutely, I’m gonna be honest I haven’t heard anything you said in the last ten minutes but damn did I realize that I love watching you ramble on about your interests” he says laughing “I love looking at how you express yourself and how pretty that face of yours is” he said grabbing my hand.

“im lucky to spend everyday i can with you, and even know the rest may not realize it; they’re lucky to have you in their life as well, even if it’s just in little moments like these.” Noah said adjusting his position.

I didn’t know what to say; heat rose to my cheeks.

“You’re beautiful and I’m so lucky you’re in my life” he said leaving a small kiss on my temple .

I couldn’t resist just giving him the biggest hug, but what he didn’t know is that I was the lucky one to have him in my life.

#bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson #matt dierkes #nick folio #nick ruffilo

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zenlesszonezero · 19 days ago

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#zzzero #zenless zone zero #yanagi #gaming #anime game

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robinsegghead · 2 days ago

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Danny's Daycare Part 16

Masterlist

Jason had been planning on waiting to call Phantom until a bit later in the day, he had, really! But after a few hours of trying to sleep and a few dozen more muffins, Jason was bored out of his mind and fighting the urge to storm Danny’s apartment and ask him what the fuck he wasn’t telling. So instead of freaking out the only kind of normal person he’d kind of befriended (and really wanted to have the chance to get to know better) he decided to get answers from someone who’d basically offered them.

That’s how he found himself standing in the alley beside a coffee shop (the same one he’d met Danny at to discuss tutoring the boys) in full gear in the middle of the afternoon holding out a piece of paper with a summoning circle on it. The directions on the back said to just hold it out and say his name three times and he shall appear (was that real or was Phantom making a stupid ass joke?) like bloody mary or some shit.

But it worked and only a few moments after he’d said ‘Phantom’ for the third time there was a glowing, blinding light.

“I thought we were going to get coffee, eh sugar?” The ghost’s voice was strange, it sounded layered and loud and yet…. Something about it was soothing, gentle, like he was meant to hear it.

Jason snorted. “Didn’t think summoning you inside the coffee shop was such a good idea.” He looked in the general direction he thought the ghost's eyes would be but his glowing was making it difficult to see.

The ghost floated closer to the ground until he landed gently and the light emanating off of him dimmed enough to really see what he looked like. He wore knee high white boots with loose fitting black pants tucked into them (Jason did not note that the pants were tighter around his hips- he didn’t- he most certainly was not checking out this stranger), a white belt that helped break up the black pants from the black undershirt he had tucked into the pants, some silver chains hanging off his belt, a cropped black sweatshirt that hung just below his ribs with the sleeves tucked into white gloves that matched the boots, and a symbol on his chest. The symbol wasn’t something he recognized.

“Fair enough. I actually slept well for once so I’m not in desperate need of coffee like usual.” smirking, as if he’d just remembered something, Phantom side eyed Hood. “I can think of a few other things I’m in desperate need of.”

Rolling his eyes and ignoring the butterflies in his stomach (what was he- a twelve year old girl?), Hood crossed his arms. “I was unaware a king could be desperate for anything.”

Waving a hand dismissively, the Ghost chuckled. “Believe me, there are many things I desperately need as a king, one of them is to not be the king but, well, what’re you gonna do? But you didn’t call me here to talk about that, what can I help you with, hot stuff?”

“You wanted coffee, I have questions, seemed like a good enough reason.” Hood shrugged.

Phantom pretended to pout. “I’m hurt. You didn’t just call me here for a date?”

“You don’t even know me.” Hood responded flatly.

The king shrugged. “I know you’re a hero in the eyes of my people. I know you’ve got a bit of a dead thing going on.” he wiggled his fingers at Hood. “I know you’re hot.” He smirked as Hood clenched his jaw, Danny flashing through his mind for some reason. “I know if you weren’t curious about me you wouldn’t have called me here. So, I’ve got a couple of hours, and I believe I promised you coffee.”

The looks they got when walking into the coffee shop were admittedly hilarious and Jason vowed to go out a little more often as Red Hood in broad daylight just to see it. Although it might not have been the crime lord walking around midday but the glowing ghost who floated beside him that earned them so many looks. They placed their orders quickly and got their drinks even quicker.

Hood gave him an inquisitive look as he headed for the exit. “Best not to talk about all this around civilians.” He paused before offering another smirk that Hood was growing far too used to. “Unless you like when others watch.”

Jesus Christ Phantom was going to be the death of him. This time he wouldn’t come back. Would he be a ghost? If he were a ghost and Phantom the king of ghosts-

Jason cut that line of thinking off with a firm shake of his head.

The pair made their way to a nearby rooftop and sat on the edge in silence. Only for a moment though while Phantom was drinking his tea, then he broke the silence.

“Well? Let’s hear your questions.”

Hood didn’t know where to start. “Why are your eyes green?”

Phantom gave him a strange look. “Why… are my… eyes green? That’s what you’re going with? Why are you built like a brick shit house?”

A brick- what?

“Huh?”

“You can ask me- the ghost king- anything you want, and you ask about my eye color?” Phantom scoffed.

Hood stared trying to figure out how to ask about their matchy glowing green eyes without outing himself. “No I- fuck, listen- I have a friend.” He finally settled on. “Something happened and he was angry and beating someone- someone who deserved it, mind you. When I pulled him offa the guy he was beating up, his eyes were green like yours. Like, glowy neon green.”

“Is this a ‘I have a friend’ situation where you're actually talking about yourself?” Phantom asked slowly and wow, okay. Sure, it was kind of, but not really either. How the fuck did Phantom manage to read him like a book?

“If I say it’s not?”

Phantom smirked. “I’d say you’re lying. But whatever.” He shrugged, setting his tea down beside him and clasping his hands together. “My eyes are green like ectoplasm- kinda like the lifeblood of ghosts in a sense. Anyone whose eyes glow green like mine have likely been around ectoplasm and- more likely- have died. Not all ghosts' eyes are green, but that’s my best guess for why this ‘friend’ of yours has glowing eyes.”

He supposed that made sense. He and Danny had both died but- “But why does it come and go?”

Phantom eyed him for a while, oddly quiet, before responding. “This friend of yours. What’s his name?”

And- okay, that wasn’t information he was sure he should give out. Danny had told him in confidence about his death and all of the ghost things that came along with it so he didn’t want to go around spreading his business. At the same time this was the ghost king- he could probably figure out who Jason was talking about if he really wanted to. But still! He didn’t want to do anything that would hurt Danny-

As if sensing Hood’s discomfort, Phantom spoke again. “I’m just going to take a guess and say it was Danny Nightingale?” When Hood neither confirmed nor denied, he continued. “Danny’s a bit of a special case. The guy is kind of dead, kind of alive. Sometimes his powers flare up even in his human form. It’s… disturbing to hear that he lost control of his powers while hurting someone, but it’s not unusual for his eyes or hair to change color. Especially if emotions are high.”

“You mean emotions being high makes him lose control?”

“Eh, not exactly. Ghosts are created through emotions. Ghosts are formed when someone dies with a lot of emotions attached to their death. That means ghosts tend to be pretty emotional, they feel things stronger than normal people and emotional pain is worse than any other kind. Emotional pain can even cause serious harm to our cores.” Phantom explained casually, as if they were talking about the weather.

That made sense. For the short time he’d known Danny he had noticed that the man seemed to feel emotions a lot more than others. He was still affected by killing the Joker despite being fine with the man's death, he flew into a blind rage when someone was going to hurt people he loved, one thing he’d noticed about Danny a long time ago was that he emoted so much more than others.

Though, Hood’s understanding of normal emoting was based on his family and they were... Probably not a good comparison for that. Either way, he liked that he could read Danny through his emotions that he had no problem displaying for anyone to see. It was refreshing for someone who hid behind a mask fifty percent of the time.

“So… if someone came back from the dead and… all they felt was… blinding rage… would that just be a normal ghost thing?” Fuck that sounded stupid.

Phantom tilted his head, considering. “Um. Depends I guess. I’m going to assume this is another ‘my friend’ situation. Do you mind if I check something real quick?” Thinking it was going to be like a phone or something, Hood nodded. “This will feel weird.” He didn’t expect the fucking ghost king to reach his hand into Hood’s chest and root around.

Hood let out a very undignified squeak as the feeling of someone poking around inside his chest overwhelmed his senses. Just as he was growing accustomed to the feeling and taking the time to examine Phantom’s face up close (Holy fuck his freckles were stars and they were glowing and when he bit his lip his fangs dug into it and this man had been flirting with Hood and he hadn’t been flirting back because of Da-) he felt the hand leave his chest and involuntarily exhaled.

“Okay, so- that’s… not great.” Phantom started, holding his chin in one hand in deep thought. “I think I know what will fix it so that’s good at least.”

“What’s wrong with me, doc? Give it to me straight, am I gonna live?” Hood asked sardonically.

Phantom rolled his eyes, amused. “I don’t know how, but you’ve been- for lack of a better word- infected with toxic ectoplasm. Not sure how, or even where you came across it but that stuffs nasty. Luckily the fix is easy enough. You need to be getting healthy ectoplasm- you aren’t going to find stuff good to fix what you’ve got going on in Gotham- But! Hanging around myself or someone like Danny Nightingale will help filter out the toxic stuff and replace it with a healthier version.”

Was that why he hadn’t been feeling the pit as strongly recently? He’d been to the manor willingly, he’d been feeling good- happy even, was that because he’d been hanging around Danny? If so, would he be able to hang around Danny more without having to explain himself? They did still need to have a conversation about what they’d talked about last time, but things had gotten busy and he hadn’t had the chance.

“Just tell Danny what I said and he won’t have a problem with you hanging around.” Phantom shrugged.

“I can’t just crash into the guy's life and make him fix me- that’s rude.” Hood growls. Who was Phantom to think he could just decide what Danny did and didn’t do?

Giving Hood a hard look, Phantom repeated himself. “He won’t have a problem with you hanging around. He likes helping people.” He paused before thinking of something. “I’m not saying this as like, the king ordering one of his people to do something. I know Danny- personally. Not everyday a kid dies, comes back as half ghost, and becomes a teen vigilante who stops ghosts- my people- from disrupting humans’ lives. Obviously, I know Danny.”

Oh. Well that…. Kinda made sense actually. Obviously Phantom wouldn’t know every subject but if there was one subject who was keeping a bunch of other, more unruly, subjects in line, the king would start to take notice. “Like you know him or you know of him?” Hood asked.

“I know him, Hood. Is that good enough for you? Now let’s get any other questions out of the way, I wanted to enjoy our date before I have to go back.”

Hood pushed past the fact that Phantom had called this a date again (why would you push that aside you fucking dumbass a voice in the back of his head screamed, he’s hot, he’s interested in you, you’re single, what more could you fucking want?) and continued with the questions. “How’d you know to show up at the Daycare yesterday?”

“Danny obviously has one of my personal summoning cards.” Phantom shrugged. “He used it before tackling that scarecrow guy- which, by the way- your city’s rogues are fucking crazy.”

Letting out a genuine laugh, Hood agreed. “Yeah, they are.”

“Like I’ve dealt with so many weird things- but they’re ghosts with powers- scarecrow’s just a fucking weirdo! Thank god Joker’s gone cause I do not fuck with clowns.” Phantom held his hands up in a giant ‘X’.

But- wait…

“How did you know the fuckhead clown’s gone?”

Phantom froze for a millisecond. “Danny may have mentioned it.”

Danny mentioned it? The same Danny who said he didn’t want anyone to know about it? The same Danny who’d said he had barely slept since accidentally killing the Joker? He hadn’t realized that Danny was so close with the ghost king. It made a negative emotion boil in his stomach but he wasn’t sure why. Why would he be upset to learn that Danny had someone he was close to that he could tell about the terrible and traumatic things he’d gone through?

That’s probably how Phantom knew he was talking about Danny earlier too- Danny told Phantom about beating the shit out of Miguel and Santiago’s sperm donor and the rage he felt. He told himself to be happy that Danny has someone to talk to- he and Phantom must be really close if they talked about things like murder. So why wasn’t he happy?

“Hood?” Phantom prodded.

Snapping out of whatever daze he’d gone into, Hood focused on his date. “Just out of curiosity… did that fucker become a ghost?”

“No- fuck no.” Phantom shuddered. “He’s for sure in hell though, don’t worry, that guys never going to hurt anyone again- I’ve made sure of that.”

That made Jason feel a bit better. He tried to think of his next question but it seemed to be Phantom’s turn.

“Have you heard of the GIW, Hood?” The humor in his voice was gone, replaced with solemnity. Hood shook his head. “They are a branch of the American government whose goal is to capture, experiment on, and exterminate my people.”

“What. The. Fuck. What do you mean?” Hood growled deep enough to rival Batman.

Phantom fiddled with the sleeve around his tea cup. “I had to put strict conditions around my people visiting earth anymore because of what the GIW will do if they catch them. I didn’t know how to deal with them, I hoped… I’d hoped someone like the Justice League would see what was happening and step in before I had to. But they didn’t. And who suffers because of my patience? My people.

“I didn’t just call you here for a fun date.” Phantom offered him a smirk but it was far less playful than before. “I need help taking down the GIW before they hurt anymore of my people. If they had their way they would commit genocide with a smile and say they’d done it to better the world.”

Hood crushed his cup of coffee, spilling hot coffee onto his hands but he barely processed it. “So you need help bringing them to light?”

“No. What they’re doing is legal. I need it to be illegal and punished severely.”

“How is it legal?” Hood demanded.

With a sigh, Phantom looked into the distance. “When I was a teenager, something called the Anti-Ecto-Acts was passed. It declares all beings who use or produce ectoplasm to be non-sentient and non-sapient beings, belonging to the government to be done with as they see fit. And they see fit to torture us.”

There was no way something like that had flown under the JL’s radar. There was no way it had flown under the BAT’S radar. Jason would have to talk to Tim and Oracle ASAP to dig up everything they could find on the GIW and these Anti-Ecto-Acts and get the fuck rid of them. Anyone who uses or produces ectoplasm would include Danny and- and him. The bats were going to be capital ‘P’ pissed.

“I’ve never heard of them but I’ll get the bats and the JL on it immediately.” Hood promised. “Bats ain’t gonna be happy about this.”

Phantom gave him a small smile. “It’ll be nice to finally have some help. I- to be honest… I wasn’t sure when I was going to do anything about them. So many other things have been added to my plate recently and I kept pushing back the timeline to deal with them but… well frankly the attack last night has forced me to move things forward.”

“Why?” What about Scarecrow’s attack could possibly change the timeline for a government agency hellbent on committing genocide against ghosts?

Phantom bit his lip, Jason’s eyes drifting down to follow the motion before meeting his eyes again. Thank god for his helmet. “Well, apparently the attack was on the news. Everyone now knows that the daycare- Danny’s daycare- was attacked in Gotham. There are…” Phantom twisted his fingers anxiously before stilling and letting out a sharp sigh. “To put it bluntly, the GIW would like nothing more than to capture Danny again and have their way with him.”

Again? Despite Phantom’s presence, green seemed to seep into his vision. Hood felt his heartbeat pick up and heard his blood pounding in his ears. What had they done to Danny? He wanted to ask. He didn’t want to know. Who would want to hurt Danny? Danny who opened a daycare because he saw a need and filled it, who got mugged by a kid and offered to give the kid a safe place to live, Danny who’d died and used his death as a way to protect his town from ghosts.

“Not only is Danny in danger, but Santi and Miguel will be too. I can’t have that. So I’ve reached out to my team and alerted them to the situation. I’ll also be speaking with my council about this new development, but it would be a great help to have someone like Batman or Superman on our side.” Phantom rubbed a hand across his forehead tiredly.

Interesting how the straw that broke the camel's back was the danger posed to Santiago and Miguel. Hood also hadn’t missed how Phantom called Santiago, Santi, which seemed to be something only those he deemed close enough got to call him. Each passing comment painted a new picture of how close Danny and Phantom were and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Hood discarded the cup he’d thoroughly ruined and tried to shake out the coffee that had soaked into his glove. “Listen, Phantom, I promise you, there’s no way in hell Batman knew about any of this. I’ll tell him about this and he’ll light a fire under the JL and we will get this sorted. Or- you know, I could just kill every GIW agent out there and then… problem kind of solved.”

Phantom snorted. “While I wouldn’t mind that, the laws would still be a problem. And if you- someone with ectoplasm- killed them all it would be the opposite of helpful. But I’ll keep you in mind if I ever need someone dead.”

“You can keep me in mind for more than that-” he cut himself off before he could call the KING of the INFINITE REALMS ‘doll’. It didn’t matter though, the tone was clear in his voice; he was flirting.

Whipping around to face Hood full on, Phantom squinted. It was a long dragged out moment of confusion but not discomfort as Hood wondered what Phantom was staring at. “What else should I keep you in mind for, casanova? Cause I can think of quite a few things.” He looked Hood up and down, suggestively biting his lower lip and -wow, okay, his fangs were really digging in and Hood couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like if he dug right in-

Clearing his throat, Hood looked away- why was it so hot in his helmet?

“Well, this has been lovely,” Phantom smirked, standing up. “But I’ve got some responsibilities to attend to and some explaining to do so I’ve got to head out. Let’s do this again sometime eh Mcdreamy? Call me.”

Before the ghost could disappear Hood grabbed his wrist. “I’ll summon you when I’ve spoken to Bats about it. We won’t let this happen to your people.”

Phantom offered a tender smile that almost reached his eyes. “Thank you.” With much less blinding light than before, Phantom disappeared, leaving Jason alone on a rooftop with a crumpled paper cup and a weight in his chest. That interaction at the end… Hadn’t that been exactly what he’d said to Danny the other day?

Oh.

Fuck.

Of course.

Hood couldn’t believe he’d been such and oblivious fucking idiot. The whole ghost thing, Danny having so much money, Phantom being a king, Danny coming to Gotham as a ‘favor’ for a friend, Phantom saying the GIW was after Danny, Danny telling Phantom about the Joker, Phantom knowing about their flirting the other day (even if the flirting had been as Jason and not Hood)- it all made sense.

Danny Nightingale was dating Phantom the ghost king.

As he headed home for the day, Hood couldn’t help but feel a confusing amount of disappointment.

~~~~~~~~

Oh fuck- of course.

It made so much sense- Jesse had told him but he hadn’t believed her because why would he when what she was saying didn’t make any sense! But then the whole dying thing and the vibes were similar and the cookies! The cookies Jason had brought tasted so much like the ones Hood brought and it just makes so much sense that they’re dating!

Danny couldn’t believe his luck. The two hot men he’d been flirting with were already dating each other! Fucking Ancients- he’d never find someone at this rate! Just then a memory popped into his head.

Yeah one of them.

Woah- no no no Danny, time-out! You are not going to be in a throuple with the Red Hood and Jason- they probably weren’t even interested-

Well.

They had been flirting with him.

Technically Hood’s flirting had been with Phantom and Jason’s had been with Danny so maybe they were in an open relationship?

No! He shook his head wildly. You’re way too busy for one boyfriend- there’s no universe in which you can handle two!

Though he would love to handle them. Ancients with Hood’s muscles and his thighs that could crush a watermelon and Jason’s eyes that couldn’t seem to decide if they were blue or green and both of their inclination towards leather and-

No! Bad Danny!

“You’ve got two kids to go home and explain your deadness too, stop drooling over taken men.” He grumbled to himself as he crossed the hallway and knocked on the boys’ door. Ancients, this was going to be a long conversation.

~~~~~~

“Told you he wasn’t human!” Santi shouted, pointing a finger at his brother.

Danny frowned, looking between the gloating and pouting boys.

“I never said ‘e wasn’t not human! Jus’ didn’t care enough ta ask.” Miguel shrugged.

“Okay wait- stop.” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “You guys don’t… have any questions?”

“Like what?” They looked at each other and then him blankly.

“Like- I don’t know! I’m kind of dead, kind of alive, I’m the king of ghosts- you don’t have any questions?”

Danny had come back to find the boys sticking post-it notes to the wall with different theories about what had happened to Danny, who was at fault, and when he’d be back. There were some pretty wild theories and ‘is dead?’ was among them somehow, but not in the way that was true. They thought when he got summoned he might have died. He was grateful that they didn’t break down in panic but also confused at the composure they’d kept.

“C’mon man, you wouldn’t DIE die on us, I ain’t worried.” Miguel shrugged uncomfortably.

He’d swallowed back the tears that threatened to formulate if he thought too deeply about Miguel’s sudden trust for Danny and moved on. But now they were just bickering back and forth about his identity and what it meant.

“Who cares? I was right!” Santi jumped up and down before freezing. “Does this make us princes?”

Danny looked between the two of them, not daring to breathe for fear of Miguel getting upset at the implication.

“Yeah, does it?” Miguel asked quietly, not meeting Danny’s eyes.

“Uh, well.” Danny swallowed. “If you’d… If you’d like to be my sons then- yes. But you don’t have to. I would never expect either of you to want to be my kids or to make it legal or anything like that and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

“Old man.”

He kept rambling. “I know you both have issues with your bio dad and I understand if you never want to have a dad again, I mean that’s what I did and I’m doing fine! I mean, I’m not *fine* after everything my dad did- but you know what I mean!”

“Old man.”

“And really- it wouldn’t change anything if you said you never wanted to think of me like that- I mean I kind of think of you as my kids but not in the way that I’d introduce you as my sons or anything, I’d never cross that boundary! Miguel made it clear that he didn’t want me acting like a parent so I’ve been trying to behave like a cool older brother but I’m not sure how I’m doing because I’m not one and I don’t have one and-”

“Old man!” Miguel shouted, cutting off Danny’s embarrassing ramble. Santi and Danny whipped around to look at the usually quiet and reserved boy. He met their stares with uncertainty. “I already said you were dad-shaped.”

And it was like someone filled the room with pure ectoplasm as Danny registered what he was saying. Forget cloud nine, Danny had far surpassed the troposphere and landed somewhere in space where he felt the giddiest and he couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed across his face. “Are you… are you sure, Miguel? ‘Cause I’d like to make it legal if that’s what you’re saying.”

“Yeah whatever, do what ya want old man, ain’t gonna change nothin’. You already take care of us.” He shrugged casually and left the living room, likely trying to hide from the emotions he’d expressed.

Santi watched him go, eyes wide. “I think you broke my brother.”

Letting out a sharp laugh, Danny covered his face. Fuck he didn’t know what he was doing. Guess he had to call his friends and tell them they were right. He was a dad.

Prev. Next

#danny phantom #dp x dc #fanfiction #danny phantom/jason todd #danny's daycare #dpxdc #batfam

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thebiggerbear · 13 hours ago

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Omg, how dare you break my heart like this so early on a Sunday morning!!! 😭😭 Ngl, this had me choked up for Dean. I want to hug him and tell him everything is going to be okay. 🥺 I feel like that meme where I'm holding him away from the Reader while pointing my finger at her telling her not to mess with my guy. I get why she's doing what she's doing but not to say a word beforehand? To sneak out? You just can't do that to Dean. Not him.

This is flawlessly written. The way you wrote Dean's reaction to this and his disbelief mixed with his pain and soft pleading is just

These parts especially had me wanting to go rock in a corner and cry my broken heart out:

You bit your lip, unable to meet his eyes. You’d spent weeks working up the nerve for this moment, convincing yourself it was for the best. But standing here, with Dean looking at you like that—like you were breaking something inside him—it was almost too much to bear. “Dean, I can’t do this anymore,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “What?” he breathed, as if the word itself was foreign. “This life,” you said, gesturing vaguely to the bunker around you. “The hunting, the danger, the constant fear that one of us isn’t going to make it back.” You swallowed hard, tears pricking at your eyes. “I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.” Dean stood there, frozen, like he’d just been punched in the gut. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. “So, what? You’re just leaving? No warning, no... no goodbye?”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over. “Dean, please don’t make this harder than it already is.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You think I’m just gonna let you walk out that door? After everything? After...” He trailed off, his voice breaking. “After you made me believe I wasn’t alone in this?”

Without another word, you turned and walked toward the door, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness. “Don’t go,” Dean finally said, his voice barely audible. But you didn’t stop. And as the door closed behind you, the weight of his broken voice followed, carving itself into your soul.

I am not okay. 💔

Amazing job on this, though!!! Thank you for writing this (breaking hearts and all lol) and for sharing with all of us!!! 💖💖

Now don't mind me, I'm just going to go loudly and grossly blow my nose into several Kleenex, pour a sliver of whiskey into my coffee, and scour YouTube for a montage of happy Dean moments. So yeah, well done! ~yells at you in sobbing sarcasm~

Jk. (not about the well done part, this was brilliant)

Sneaking Away (Dean Winchester)

Summary: Dean catches you just before you leave the bunker for good.

Warnings: Angst

WC: 500ish

Read on AO3

The creak of the bunker’s heavy door echoed faintly in the stillness of the night, followed by the soft shuffle of boots against the cold floor. You barely made it past the war room when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Where are you sneaking off to at this late hour?”

You froze, heart sinking at the familiar gravel in Dean’s voice. Slowly, you turned to see him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his green eyes shadowed with suspicion—and something deeper you couldn’t quite place.

“Dean...” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor, the sound unnerving in the silence. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, nodding toward the duffel slung over your shoulder.

You tightened your grip on it instinctively, your stomach churning. “It’s nothing. I just need some air, that’s all.”

“That why you’ve got your car keys, too?” His jaw clenched, his gaze burning into yours.

“Dean, I can’t do this anymore,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

“What?” he breathed, as if the word itself was foreign.

“This life,” you said, gesturing vaguely to the bunker around you. “The hunting, the danger, the constant fear that one of us isn’t going to make it back.” You swallowed hard, tears pricking at your eyes. “I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.”

Dean stood there, frozen, like he’d just been punched in the gut. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. “So, what? You’re just leaving? No warning, no... no goodbye?”

“It’s easier this way,” you whispered.

“Easier?” He took another step closer, his voice rising. “For who, huh? You? Because it sure as hell isn’t easier for me!”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over. “Dean, please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You think I’m just gonna let you walk out that door? After everything? After...” He trailed off, his voice breaking. “After you made me believe I wasn’t alone in this?”

His words hit like a knife to the chest, and for a moment, you almost reconsidered. Almost.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I can’t stay and watch this life destroy you. Destroy us.”

Dean’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white. He looked at you like he wanted to say something, anything, to make you stay. But all he could do was stare, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Without another word, you turned and walked toward the door, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

“Don’t go,” Dean finally said, his voice barely audible.

But you didn’t stop.

And as the door closed behind you, the weight of his broken voice followed, carving itself into your soul.

#holy fuck i can't stop the tears #dean winchester x reader #caplanbuckybarnes #sneaking away #fic recs

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nmakii · 10 hours ago

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maki i beg you to write rin and s/o that also has sibling issues.. like not the "oh my sibling also left me lolol" issues like.. they're always gonna be in their sibling's shadow no matter what they do.. and their sibling absolutely hates their guts.. please..

I THINK I’VE SEEN THIS FILM BEFORE

— rin itoshi x reader with sibling issues

on behalf of older siblings, i side with sae :x

— rin itoshi

rins having one of those moments where he’s rethinking everything,,, like, he starts rethinking all about the times he’s been harsh to you. lowk start feeling bad :x

he’d try to be nicer. keyword: try. if you’re doing something braindead stupid, hes still gonna call you out hahaha

he’ll be more encouraging—ish… whenever you’re half-assing something (like example studies…), he wont be as harsh as he is with like bachira and the top 3… he’d go like “cmon… you know how to solve this. …do you need a hint..?”

and if on the very un-rare occasion, you do something that pisses him off, he would… do nothing! i know, shocking. he lobs u after all <3

this is only like… 1/4 because he feels bad for you and how your family’s treated you, and 3/4 because he wants to become the person he wanted sae to be.

hehe its actually pretty healing for the both of you. sometimes if the atmosphere is light and kind enough, you might even get him to smile a little bit :x <3

12:45. and you and rin were still up, studying for your math exam tomorrow.

“ugh..! i cant do it, rin. i don’t get it! y’know what? ill just fail..!” you frown, head in your hands. rin sighs. he really wanted to go to sleep, but he promised you that he’d help you prepare, and he has to follow through.

“d—ugh… dont be negative. i know you’ll be able to pass.” he pats you on the head. “do you wanna… review the concepts one more time, and solve one more problem before bed? i can help you study one more time in the library, okay?” he offered.

“mm… i need a breakkk..!” you groan. a break would mean having to stay up later… “i… fine… i need a break too…” rin groans. “..! what the hell does that mean..?!” you lash out at him, face pouty with a frown.

“…im joking. but, i am getting tired…” he says. he takes note of your guilty face. “i… sorry for keeping you up, rin… after this, you can sleep…”

fuck.

that face was making him feel guilty. “i didn’t mean it like that. im just saying its late, and you need to sleep early if you want your brain functioning.” he rested his hand on your shoulder. “cmon, let’s take a five-minute break and get back to this. okay?”

you nodded.

1:36. you were finally done, and much more confident than you were an hour ago. “yes, i got it!” you cheered. rin’s lips curled up at your enthusiasm. “it’s late now. get plenty of rest, okay? don’t panic, and just do your best.” he says.

you look at him like a child at their new pet; full of adoration and affection. you quickly ambush him with a tight hug, causing rin to wheeze out, the air in his lungs being kicked out in an instant. “ack..! ghh..! l..let me go…” rin heaves.

eventually, you do let go, choosing to move to a looser hug around his neck. “thank you, rin…” you smile. something in your gratitude stirs rin’s heart. as if the past was gone, and all that was left was the future.

“i..it’s no problem, okay? just go rest already, you need sleep…” his words and body language conflicting; his words pushing you away, and his hands pulling you closer as his lips find the crown of your head. he reluctantly lets you go sooner or later and helps you to clean up the various papers and textbooks.

as rin puts away his belongings, you cuddle up with him. “my favorite private tutor…” you snicker. rin rolls his eyes. “private tutor? that implies im getting paid to do this for you…” he frowns. “what?! my payment is my love for you..! isn’t that enough..?!” you argue back.

rin tried to hide the laugh that comes from his throat, but it’s quite obvious from the smile on his face. “…fine, i guess so. but, a little more loving wouldn’t hurt either.”

#haha not proofread i die like my cutiepie kuons career #blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk fluff #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x y/n

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giggly-squiggily · 1 day ago

Note

For the sentence starter prompts, how about some RyuSae with “I’m gonna get you back”. ❤️❤️

Nah cause it’s the way I posted this and forgot to put my usual message- 💀💀💀 my bad! Anyway- AHH RYUSAE MY BELOVED!!!! I love them your honor! Anon, I’ve gotcha covered!

CW: suggestive humor

“Erk! Would you stop that!” Sae jerked forward when Shidou’s hands found his belly, lightly tracing the skin as he was pulling his jersey off. “I swear, I’m gonna get you back!”

“Hahah! You can most certainly try, Sae-Sae! Bring it on!”

That was days ago. Shidou really should know by now how his boyfriend worked.

“Die.” Hands dug into his ribs from behind, quick and nimble. Shidou sucked in a breath of surprise, but that was about it. “....The hell? Why aren’t you laughing?”

“Not ticklish there. Keep going, though- it feels good.” Shidou laughed when Sae pinched him, moving his hands up and down in search of a spot. “Oh, how I love having your hands all over my body, Sae-Sae~”

“Shut up. Don’t be gross.” Armpits were a bust, as were his hips and stomach. He even tried getting his legs, but all it did was make Shidou stretch his leg out encouragingly. “You really aren’t ticklish?”

“No, I am. You just haven’t found it yet.” Shidou grinned at him, turning around and pulling Sae into his arms. “I however know exactly where to go..”

“Back off, demon.” Sae glared, shoving him when those dastardly hands tried tickling his ribs. He took a moment to really look at Shidou, debating on where he’d be ticklish. His eyes lingered on his collarbones.

Without any warning, he reached out and poked at the base of Shidou’s neck.

“AH!” The taller boy yelped, jerking back at the touch. Sae’s brows raised to his hairline. “He-ehehehehe..thaht’s a gohohood gueehehss.”

“I don’t think it’s a guess.” Sae wasted no time as he grabbed Shidou’s arm, flipping him around and squirreling a hand against his collar. The demon player let out a whoop of laughter before collapsing to his knees, clinging to his boyfriend as he was tickled mercilessly. “Wow, you’re really ticklish here.”

“Ahehahhahaha! Cohohoohme ohohoh, dohoohohn’t behehehhee meehhehahahan!” Shidou pleaded through his mirth, face half-buried in Sae’s outer thigh as he curled up to the best of his abilities. “I cahhahan’t tahhahake it ahehahahahahaha!”

“I thought you liked it when I was mean?” Sae snorted to himself as he pulled his hand back, running it through Shidou’s spikes in a rare show of affection. “I’ll spare you today, but tickle me again and I’ll end your life.”

“Yohohou sahhay that lihihke you don’t lihihihke it.” Shidou grinned, screaming once more when those fingers attacked his neck.

“I changed my mind.” A red-cheeked Sae growled. “Die and don’t revive.”

Send me a sentence starter and I'll write a dabble for you! :D

#Puffs #sentence starters #tickle #tickle dabble #blue lock #sae itoshi #shidou ryusei #ryusae #lee!Shidou for your reading pleasure lols #dorks in love #Sae finally got his revenge!#it didn't last long lols

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 2 days ago

Text

Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Part 9)

Summary: It the championship final and this weekend turns out to be more explosive than anyone imagined

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: Fluff! Angst! Talk of Panic Attacks! Serious Injury! Language! SMUT! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 9

The past week had been the most intense week that you’ve had in a while. The Bears had not only secured their home semifinal but they had won it too. The only downside was that the LA Lions had won their semifinal which meant they would be facing one another once again. On the bright side, the Bears finished 2nd in the league, while the Lions finished 4th meaning the final would be played here in Boston.

The play-off period was always intense, with every member of the team on and off the pitch working overtime to ensure the players were in the best position to play and hopefully win. The medical team had been working hard to make sure every player was fit and the team had been putting in extra training hours, studied the lions closely to find any weaknesses. Following the last meeting with the Lions, the Bears were out for blood, Chris more so than anyone. It was almost a derby-level rivalry now.

When Friday evening rolled around everyone was looking forward to a chilled night ahead of the final tomorrow. You more so than anyone, when you finally got back to your apartment you were looking forward to a nice alcoholic beverage and just chilling either in the bath or on the couch.

You had just changed out of your work gear and into some comfies when you heard your phone ringing. You grabbed your phone, a warm smile forming on your face when you saw it was Chris.

“I swear to god if you’re calling me to say you’ve injured yourself Evans” you said as you picked up.

Chris’ deep laughter filtered through the phone “No I’m good, Langley might get injured tomorrow though”

You let out a small sigh, Bryce’s ban following his red card was over now meaning he was back playing just in time for the final. You knew he’d too be out for blood and just hoped he didn’t get his way.

“As long as it doesn’t get you sent off” you warned him.

“Don’t worry about that, I know how to keep it clean and legal” he said, a smirk clear in his voice “I was wondering what you planned to do tonight?”

“Oh uh nothing really, the medical team stayed pretty late to make sure everything was ready for tomorrow so I’m just looking forward to just relaxing since tomorrow will be pretty intense,” you told him as you walked out of your bedroom and into your living room.

“Ah good because I know exactly what you should do to relax”

You arched a brow “Oh really what’s that?” You asked, but before Chris got the chance to answer you heard your buzzer go “Oh hold on there’s someone at the door” You pressed your phone to your shoulder as you walked over and answered the intercom “Hello?”

“You gonna let me up or not?” You heard Chris say.

You furrowed your brows in confusion not sure for a moment whether his voice was coming from your phone or your intercom.

“Chris?”

“Yeah buzz me in already” he chuckled.

You blinked a couple of times before doing what he said and buzzed him in. You stepped to the side and opened the door, still not quite believing Chris was actually here. That was until you saw him appear with a grin and a bag full of something.

“Hey,” he grinned as he walked over and greeted you with a kiss.

“Hi” you said breathlessly “what- what are you doing here?” You asked as you shut the door behind him.

“You said it yourself, tomorrow is gonna be intense so we should relax tonight, and I have just what we need” he smiled holding up the bag he held.

“What you got in there?” You asked as you tried to get a peak.

“It’s a surprise, one that I’ll need a little bit of time to set up” he explained.

“How long?”

“Long enough for you to have a relaxing bath” he grinned, You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your lips at the idea which made his grin widen “So why don’t you go relax while I set this up?”

“I like the idea of that, got anything alcoholic in there?” You asked.

“Of course, I’ll bring you something,” Chris said as he gently pushed you in the direction of your bathroom.

A short while later you were relaxing in a nice warm bath, surrounded by bubbles. Chris then poked his head in holding a glass of wine for you.

“Perfect thank you,” you said with a grateful smile “Are you drinking tonight?”

Chris shook his head “No, gotta keep the head clear for tomorrow but don’t feel like you can’t”

“I won’t” you smirked as you took a healthy sip making Chris chuckle.

His gaze then dipped from your lips to below the waterline, his tongue poking out to quickly wet his lips.

“When do I need to get out?” You asked, but Chris didn’t seem to notice you had been talking until you cleared your throat loudly.

“Hm? Sorry what?” He hummed shaking his head his eyes finally returning to yours.

You chuckled at him “I asked when I needed to get out for?”

“Oh,” Chris said as he quickly checked his watch “Um everything should be ready in 30 minutes”

“Okay perfect, I look forward to my surprise” You grinned.

30 minutes later you were out of the bath and back into some comfies, the smell of something delicious wafting through the air in the apartment. You followed the smell grinning when you saw Chris standing in your kitchen wearing your apron which you rarely used yourself. It looked absolutely tiny on Chris.

“Smells delicious,” you said as you walked in and wrapped your arm around his waist.

“The best thing about pre-match days is I can eat a shit ton of carbs and it is part of the diet plan” Chris grinned as he wrapped his arm around you “So I thought since we both had a pretty intense day today and tomorrow will be the same, I thought I’d cook us some spaghetti bolognese”

You hummed in appreciation “The perfect comfort meal, have you got garlic bread?” You asked with an arched brow.

Chris looked down at you offended “Of course I have garlic bread, I’m not a heathen!”

You laughed patting his chest “was only checking, shall I set the table?” You asked nodding to the bare table.

“No it’s okay I’ve got it sorted already” he said making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head? Because the table is not set” you said pointing to the table.

Chris chuckled “I know that, just trust me,” he said as he started plating up “Follow me, sweetheart”

You did as you were told and followed Chris out of your kitchen and into your living room. Your lips parted in surprise and your heart melted when you saw what Chris had done. He’d set up a picnic under the stars right there in your living room. A blanket was spread out, candles lit on the coffee table and strings of lights hanging over your window. It looked incredible, you even considered asking Chris if you could keep the string lights.

“Chris…” you muttered in disbelief.

“You like it?” He asked with a look on his face that almost looked bashful.

“I-I love it, but why?” You asked as you both sat down on the floor in front of your coffee table.

Chris shrugged as he gave you a boyish “why not? Do I need a reason to spoil you?”

You tried to think of a reason but drew a blank, you chuckled and shook your head “I guess not, thank you either way”

“You're welcome, to hopefully a Bears win tomorrow” Chris smiled holding up his glass of water.

“To a Bears win tomorrow” you smiled tapping your wine glass against his.

“Now let’s tuck in before it gets cold,” Chris said nodding to the food.

“Don’t need to tell me twice” you chuckled before tucking in.

As you ate you couldn’t help but glance over at Chris periodically. Something had definitely changed between you two and you weren’t sure when. You could say it was the weekend in LA, or when he picked you back up after your night out with the ticket office mean girls, but neither of those answers seemed right. It had just been a gradual shift since the moment you started this agreement.

You started to wonder what kind of relationship this was now because it certainly wasn’t casual anymore. Casual wasn’t unloading all your trauma on your partner, casual wasn’t starting a fight with the other's ex, casual wasn’t setting up starlight picnics just for the hell of it. But you couldn’t call it a relationship either.

You didn’t get to think more about it and frankly, you didn’t want to either, it seemed like a slippery slope to you getting confused and hurt. Now wasn’t the time, Chris didn’t need to be distracted by your relationship questions and you needed to be focused too. It could wait til later.

To your relief when Chris sat back down from taking the empty plates into the kitchen he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him. You smiled softly as you looked over at him, he smiled back in return before hooking his finger under your chin tilted your head back and kissed you. You melted into the kiss, all intrusive thoughts leaving your mind at his touch.

The hunger and desire you had for him won out as you cupped his cheeks and shifted so you were stranding his hips. Chris groaned his hands moving to rest on your back as he held you close. This kiss deepened as his hands slipped under your top, his hands heating up your skin.

The heat from his hands spread through your body and down south. Your hips rolled against his causing the both of you to moan, Chris’ grip on you tightened.

“I need you” you murmured in between kisses. The three words felt deeper than they ever had before like they meant more than just needing his body.

“I need you too” Chris muttered as he lifted his hips, his hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom.

You smirked as you took it from him and stood up long enough to remove your shorts and top. As you did so Chris did the same with his top and sweatpants, his erection standing proud. You ripped the wrapper open and kneeled back down and rolled it on, Chris moaning as you did so.

You gave him a lopsided grin as you leaned in and kissed him as you moved back to straddle his hips. Chris gripped your ass as he guided you down onto him, you moaning into the kiss as you did so.

Once you were fully seated you tilted your head back, something Chris took full advantage of by pressing kisses down you next and to your chest. You moaned and rolled your hips when his mouth found your sensitive peaks, giving each equal attention.

One of his hands rested on your back, holding you close, while the other was on your hip guiding your movements. It wasn’t long until you were chanting his name like a prayer, hips rolling feverishly as you searched for your peak.

Chris leaned in to whisper in your ear “I want to feel you finish” he nibbled on your ear and that was all you needed to fall off the edge into oblivion.

When your movements stuttered as your orgasm rocked your body, Chris took over as he chased his own end. One that he found shortly after yours with a loud moan of your name.

With your chest still heaving, Chris cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a deep kiss “I wish I could do this every day” he murmured only barely audible.

You searched his eyes for a moment, your hand running through his hair as you did so. You tried to understand the meaning behind his words, whether he meant them in a casual way or more seriously. You weren’t sure what answer you wanted. You didn’t know what you wanted. Your mind and thoughts were jumbled, two different answers pulled at you, one from the chest and one from your head.

You already knew it wasn’t a question you could ask tonight. You had time to try and work out what it was you even wanted. You couldn’t ask Chris what he wanted if you didn’t know what answer you wanted. So you’d wait, wait until you had your answer, wait until after the championship was won or lost.

You barely slept last night. Not because Chris had kept you up. No, he’d left last night so he’d get a good night’s sleep ahead of the game because ‘you’re far too tempting to just sleep next to’.

You’d had another one of your panic attacks. Now that you knew what they were it was less scary. You didn’t feel the need to rush to the bathroom. You’d just take a few deep breaths like Chris had told you and wait to fall back asleep.

But last night you just couldn’t fall back asleep. You’re mind just kept whirring trying to work out what you wanted. One moment you thought you knew only for the next moment to tell you something different. Every time you looked over at your alarm clock an hour had passed and you were still wide awake.

Needless to say, you were pretty exhausted and running on coffee to get you through the day. By the time you got to the stadium, you felt more awake but still pretty distracted. Too distracted for a game as important as this.

So you found somewhere quiet and private to call Tommi. If you couldn’t talk to Chris about all this, maybe talking it through with Tommi would help.

“Hey I didn’t expect to hear from you today, it’s the final this afternoon isn’t it?” Tommi said as she picked up.

“Yeah, in a couple hours I just got to the stadium, are you gonna be watching?” You asked, already knowing the answer would be no even if her last encounter with Ari might suggest otherwise.

“No you know rugby isn’t my thing,” she said making you chuckle, “but I might keep up to date with the score”

“Well I guess I can settle for that” you smirked.

“So what’s up? Has something happened with you and Chris?” She asked making you let out a long sigh “What did he do?”

“Nothing” you instantly defended him “Nothing bad anyway”

“Right,” Tommi said slowly.

“It’s just something has changed between us, it doesn’t feel casual anymore” you explained as you leant up against the wall.

“And is that a good thing or bad thing?”

“I don’t know, whenever I think about either option it doesn’t feel right and I want the other option” you sighed.

“Right well logically you’re either gonna end it with him or it becomes more serious” Tommi said “So how would you feel if you ended it?”

“Shit” you responded instantly, you didn’t need to think about it at all.

“Okay and how would you feel if it was more serious?”

You took more time with this question. Trying to search your brain for an answer but falling short “I-i don’t know” you muttered looking down.

“I see” Tommi hummed.

“I just-“ you started, feeling the need to justify your answer “part of me does and part of me doesn’t and I don’t know which part is larger”

“Have you spoken to Chris about all this?” Tommi asked.

“No, I only started questioning all this last night when he came over and didn’t want to distract him before today” you sighed.

“What happened last night?”

“He surprised me by coming around and cooking me dinner and making a starlight picnic using string lights” you told her unable to stop the smile that crept onto your face when you recalled it.

“That’s very sweet” Tommi commented.

“Yeah, it was” you sighed softly.

“Can I tell you what I think?” Tommi said gently.

“Sure,” you said, maybe she could make sense of it all.

“I think you love him”

You went to protest but couldn’t bring yourself to outright deny it “We’ve only known each other a couple of months” you managed to say.

“Time doesn’t matter when it comes to love, I knew I loved Dan pretty quick” Tommi said softly.

“But you knew, I don’t, I don’t know if I love him or not“ you argued “Even if I did I don’t think he loves me”

“Look I don’t know for certain but I saw the way you looked at each other in LA” Tommi told you.

“I thought you were too busy arguing with Levinson” you smirked.

Tommi let out a funny-sounding and awkward scoff-like laugh “No I wasn’t” she retorted “but anyway I saw what I think is a lot of love between you two”

You let out a long sigh “Do you really think so” you asked quietly.

“I couldn’t tell you for certain but I think so, but you should talk to Chris about all this after the match” Tommi told you softly.

“But I don’t even know what I want or if I even love him or not” you sighed shaking your head.

“That’s okay but a relationship is between two people, you need to talk about all this with Chris, tell him how you feel and find out what he feels and work out what you both want to do together”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“It’s scary, I know but I also know you’ll work it out because you are the strongest person I know” Tommi reassured you.

“Thank you Tommi,” you said “I really wish you were here”

“I wish you were here, but I don’t think you’ll be coming back here will you?”

“No, so unless you want to relocate to the east coast,” you said hopefully.

“Sorry but no, Cali is where I need to be” she sighed.

“It was worth a shot, maybe you can visit in the summer” you suggested.

“I’d love that, once you know what’s going on with you and Chris you let me know when will be a good time for me to visit” Tommi smiled.

“Sounds good, I better get going, we’ve got a lot of prep to do still and my dad’s probably looking for me,” you told her.

“Okay, good luck,” Tommi said “I know very little about rugby but I hope Chris absolutely murders Bryce”

You laughed “Me too, I’ll talk to you later, hopefully with some good news”

“Talk to you tomorrow when you recover from your celebratory hangover” Tommi said making you chuckle.

“Tomorrow it is” you agreed before hanging up.

You took a moment to take a few deep breaths before making your way out towards the medical room. Chatting with Tommi had made the noise in your head quieten, even if you did now wonder whether what you felt for Chris was love or not.

The next couple hours were a blur, a good distracting blur, and before you knew it you were in the changing room helping the players get ready to play the match of their lives.

You were giving Johnny some quick physio when he glanced around the room before gesturing for you to move closer so he could say something to you “Don’t you worry about today I’m gonna make sure Bryce sees the business end of my boots during rucks today” he whispered.

You pulled back suddenly, eyes darting over to Chris scared that he might have told someone what you’d told him.

Johnny must have seen the panic on your face because he was quick to clarify “Oh shit no, I don’t know what Langley did, Chris hasn’t said a word and you don’t have to either, I just put two and two together and realised he must have done something and I just wanted to know we’ve got your back, all of us”

Your shoulders dropped in relief “Thanks Storm, you’re a really good friend” you said “You’re a really caring and soft guy behind that player look”

Johnny gave you a bashful smile before switching it up to his trademark lopsided smirk “Don’t blow my cover”

You tapped your nose “Secret is safe with me” you grinned before grabbing your bag.

You glanced around the changing room looking to see if anyone else needed help. Chris caught your attention as he lifted his hand and pointed to his wrist. You nodded and moved your way through the room to him. Dumping your bag on the floor by his feet before grabbing the tape.

“How you feeling?” You asked as you began strapping up his wrist.

“Confident” Chris grinned “The atmosphere is electric already”

“The crowd here are on another level” you agreed.

“How about you?” He asked, your gaze met his and realised he wasn’t talking about the match, he meant how did you feel about Bryce being here.

You took a deep breath as you took stock of how you felt. While your mind didn’t feel completely at rest while you pondered what relationship you wanted and how you felt, you weren’t thinking about Bryce. You almost felt at peace with the whole situation.

“I’m good” you admitted as you finished strapping up his wrist.

Chris gave you a soft smile “Good” he said as he took the tape from you, putting it away in your kitbag.

“Glad to see you kept your medal” he grinned as he passed you back your bag, referencing the player of the match medal he snuck into your kit bag after the match in LA.

You chuckled and shrugged your shoulders “Thought it might be a good luck charm” you admitted as you stepped away.

A short while later you were pitch side waiting for kick-off. The atmosphere was insane, almost indescribable. You glanced over to the large championship trophy and instantly pictured Chris lifting it above his head following their victory. It was an image so clear that you couldn’t think anything else could happen.

Your gaze then shifted to the players who were walking onto the pitch. The Lions came out first as the visiting team. Most looked out at the pitch but Bryce, of course, looked over at you. You didn’t look away though, you didn’t look weak or broken, you looked back with a look of indifference. Something that seemed to bug him.

The Bears came out next, led by Chris. You looked at him proudly as he did so, smiling when he jogged past and winked at you.

Soon enough the whistle blew and the game kicked off. Both sides came out of the blocks with fire in their veins. You could tell just by the first minute it was going to be a similar match to the last time the two teams played each other. The medical team were gonna be busy.

Within the first 5 minutes, Chris had caught an interception and blazed past the Lions towards the try line. The entire stadium was screaming as he ran at full speed, Lion defenders desperately trying to close the gap but ultimately failing as he dove under the posts.

The entire stadium erupted, the rest of the team running over to congratulate Chris on the try. Chris grinned proudly as he took the praise, one of your team had jogged onto the pitch with the kicking tee and water for him. Chris took the kick quickly, it was an easy one in front of the posts. As the ball sailed over Chris saluted the Lions, more specifically Bryce, before turning back around to jog back to his half to restart.

Chris definitely seemed to have riled the Lions up because they hit back harder. For a while, it became a kicking game with Chris and Bryce kicking the ball for territory back and forth. The game shifted though when the Lion’s fullback caught the ball before kicking it down the pitch towards Chris.

You watched as Chris leapt up into the air. The next few seconds went by like an eternity. Quicker than anyone could react, Bryce was charging down the pitch. You watched in horror as he tackled Chris while he was still in the air. A move that was so illegal the entire crowd erupted in response. You watched as Chris twisted in the air, moving past the horizontal thanks to Bryce tipping his legs upwards, so he landed on his shoulder, his head hitting the ground next with a horrid thunk.

The entire stadium fell silent for a moment as Chris lay motionless on the floor. Chaos then erupted as the crowds shouted for a red card, the rest of the Bears rushing over. Ari grabbed Bryce and ripped him off Chris and moved him away, throwing him down onto the ground which sparked a brawl between the two teams.

The entire time this was happening you were frozen in place, your heart had stopped and all you could hear was ringing in your ears as you stared at Chris motionless on the floor. It took one of your fellow medics shouting at you to finally spark you into action.

You followed the other medics onto the field, your legs feeling like jelly as you ran. Your hands shook as you finally got there and crouched down. Your ears were still ringing so it took you a moment to hear your coworkers telling you to support his neck as they moved him onto his back.

You did as you were told, hands placed on each side of his head. When you got him onto his back you could see his shoulder was either dislocated or his collarbone was broken. He was still unconscious either from being knocked out or blacking out from the pain.

Your heart broke as you looked down at him. You’d seen him injured before but not as bad as this. Your lip started to wobble and tears collected in the corner of your eyes as you held his head, desperately wanting his eyes to open.

You gently stroked the side of his head, keeping it still, as you tried to coax him to come around. The other medics worked on his shoulder, checked the rest of his body out for injuries and radioed for a stretcher.

As they moved his arm to stabilise it, he jerked beneath you. His eyes shot open before contorting in pain, a scream of agony leaving his lips. His body reacted on instinct and tried to move forcing you and the rest of the medics to fight to keep him still so he didn’t make it worse.

“Sh, sh, sh,” you told him unable to stop your tears now, your entire soul hurting as you watched him in pain “Get him painkillers!” You shouted to the other medics before turning your attention back to Chris “You need to stay still sweetheart, you’re gonna be okay, take some deep breaths”

“Babe it hurts” Chris groaned, his chest heaving.

“I know, I know it does sweetheart, we’re gonna give you some painkillers now and get you to the hospital” you promised him.

“Stay” he managed to say his eyes finding yours.

“I will I promise” you swore.

Thankfully the painkillers kicked in pretty quickly allowing you and the rest of the medical team to carry him off the pitch on the stretcher. The entire stadium applauded in respect, Jensen and Ari jogging over to check on Chris as you carried him off. Ari had a split lip from the fight that needed attention but that could wait, Chris needed you now.

As you walked into the tunnel ready to take Chris to the ambulance you were surprised to find Andy waiting.

“Your mic is on” he warned nodding to your radio pack.

You looked down in horror to realise he was right, the mic on your radio to the coaching team had been on for god knows how long. Your dad would have heard everything. You calling Chris sweetheart. Him calling you babe.

You quickly switched it off “Thanks” you muttered “I’ll accompany him to hospital” you said.

“No, I’m going and you’re staying here, your dad wants you on water duty,” Andy told you.

“But-“ you started to argue.

“You don’t want to fight him on this” Andy warned, giving you a look that told you just how pissed off your dad was “Help load him onto the ambulance and then take a few moments to collect yourself” he said, his voice softer as he put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You nodded, a couple of paramedics had joined to help carry the stretcher allowing 2 of the other medics to return to the game. You carried Chris out of the stadium to the waiting ambulance with the rest of the medics.

“Can I talk to him before you go?” You asked the paramedic.

He nodded his head and stepped aside to let you into the ambulance. You stepped up and moved to Chris, taking his hand gently.

“Hey,” Chris murmured.

“Hey” you said softly “I need to stay here to make sure no one else gets injured, but as soon as I can I’ll come straight to the hospital” you promised him.

You could see the disappointment in his eyes but he nodded “Win the match for me” he muttered.

You let out a watery chuckle “Okay, I’ll see you soon” you said leaning down to kiss his forehead.

You didn’t want to delay his medical treatment anymore so said goodbye before stepping out of the ambulance, letting Andy take your place before watching as it drove away towards Mass Gen. You took a shaky breath trying and failing to get your emotions in check.

Wrapping your arms around yourself you made your way into the changing room. Without thinking you walked over to Chris’ cubby and sat down, resting your head against the side. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling as you began to sob.

You could hear the crowd cheering in the stands around you. You knew you needed to get back out there and do your job, but couldn’t think about that. All you could think about was that you knew you loved Chris. You loved Chris and you couldn’t be with him when he needed you. You loved Chris and your dad was going to kill you.

The rest of the match felt like an eternity. You hadn’t managed to bring yourself back onto pitch side before halftime so when the team filtered into the changing room you got up from Chris’ cubby and moved to stand in the far corner.

Johnny had been the first player to walk over and make sure you were okay. You gave him a weak smile and nodded your head hugging yourself tightly. Ari then walked over to inform you that he made sure Bryce’s face was the same shade of blue as the Bears jersey. You let out a weak chuckle at that. Jensen was the next player to walk over asking if Chris was gonna be okay.

You nodded and cleared your throat “Yeah, it’s a suspected dislocation or broken collarbone and given how he came round” you said having to take a moment to compose yourself as you recalled it “it looked like he blacked out from the pain rather than being knocked out, no suspected head or neck injury”

You hadn’t realised the team had fallen silent to listen to you until Curtis broke the silence “We’re gonna make them pay” he growled.

Your dad then walked in ready to give the halftime talk. You wished that Johnny, Ari and Jensen hadn’t moved to sit back down in their cubbies. Your wall of protection suddenly gone. Your gaze met your father’s who looked back at you with disappointment before returning his attention to the team.

To your surprise, not only had Bryce been sent off with a red card, but Brad had too for throwing the first punch after Ari threw Bryce to the floor. The Bears had a two-man advantage and had already started to make the Lions hurt. You knew it was about to get more painful now they heard how bad Chris was.

Soon enough half time was over and you followed the medical team back onto the sidelines. Not that you’d be doing much treatment having been relegated to water duty. You watched from the sidelines as the Bears continued to fight, scoring more and more tries. Their tackles landed harder than ever before.

When the clock ticked over the 80th minute and Johnny kicked the ball off the pitch to end the match the entire stadium erupted in cheers. The Boston Bears had won the Championship but you didn’t care. You just wanted to go see Chris.

As soon as you could you left pitch side. You needed to grab your phone and keys from the medical office before making your way to the hospital. Hopefully, before your dad could intercept you.

You thought you were in the clear but just as you stepped out of the medical office you heard someone clear their throat loudly behind you. You turned around to see your dad standing there with his arms crossed.

“Not going to celebrate the win with the team?” He asked.

“No I need to go, I have something I need to do,” you told him shouldering your bag.

“Not yet, we need to talk first in my office” he said leaving no room for arguments so you nodded your head and followed him to his office.

Once inside your dad moved to lean against his desk, arms still crossed as he looked down at the floor. You stood a couple of feet away.

“What happened out there? I’ve seen you deal with a snapped leg which was facing the wrong way better than that” he asked.

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders “Chris means a lot to me, I was just shocked at how bad it looked when he got tackled, he was screaming in pain, you would have heard it over the radio” you said honestly.

“I did, and it’s not just that he means a lot to you is it? You’re dating him.” Your dad hummed.

“Yes, I am” you admitted, knowing there was no point in denying it now.

Your dad sighed and shook his head “How could you be so stupid? After everything that happened to you in LA, how could date another rugby player after that? Especially after I made it clear to them all that you were off limits?” He demanded.

“We got together before you told the players that” you admitted quietly.

Your dad scoffed quietly and shook his head “Regardless you should know better”

“Maybe, but Chris is different! He’s been there for me!” You argued, your dad shook his head in disbelief “he did! That fight he started in LA was because of me! He heard Bryce talking shit and goaded him into a fight”

Your dad blinked a couple of times in surprise “he knows?”

You nodded “he didn’t at the time but I have told him, told him everything, even the things I couldn’t tell you and he didn’t run away or confirm my fears, he held me tight and made sure I was okay while I had a panic attack” you stated.

“I didn’t know you’ve been having panic attacks” he said his brows furrowed in concern.

“I didn’t know they were panic attacks until that night” you admitted “but the point is Chris isn’t like Bryce, he’s different in every way and… I couldn’t help falling in love with him”

Silence fell in the room at your admission. Your dad looked down as he nodded his head.

“Okay” he started “now I say this not because I want to hurt you, but because I want to protect you and you need to end this before he hurts you, because he will”

You felt like you had been punched in the gut “dad…”

“I’m sorry Y/N but it’s true” he said with a sad sigh.

“No, it can’t be,” you said shaking your head, your voice breaking, “Tommi said she saw what looked like love between us”

“When did Tommi see you two together?” He asked.

“In LA me, her, Chris and Ari had lunch together in the hotel bar” you answered.

“Right” he nodded “I can understand why you’d want to believe her but she doesn’t know Chris like I do, I’ve coached him for the past 9 years, since he was 19” your dad sighed “he’s not a player like Storm but he’s not someone I would trust with you”

You stumbled back hearing that “You don’t think he loves me back?” You whispered.

“I- no I don’t and I’m sorry, I just want to protect you” he sighed.

You nodded “You think I should end it?” You muttered sadly.

“We both know I can’t make you, but yes I think you should” he admitted.

You sniffled and wiped away the stray tears “Okay” you muttered.

“I’m sorry” your dad sighed as he walked over to wrap his arms around you “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but this is the right decision”

“Can I still go see him in hospital? I promised him that I would and I don’t want to break that promise” you asked.

Your dad sighed before nodding “Yes but I’ll drive because you’re in no state”

“Thank you” you muttered.

A short while later you were walking through the corridors of Mass Gen, a nurse directing you and your dad to Chris’ room. Updating both of you as she did so.

“It was both a dislocation and a broken collarbone so it’s no surprise he blacked out, thankfully it wasn’t a compound break and didn’t require surgery. He’s not concussed either which is good so we’ve been able to give him painkillers that will make him drowsy” the nurse told you.

“Do you think he’ll be able to play again?” Your dad asked.

“We’re hopeful, with good physio he should be on top form again” The nurse nodded.

“Good,” you said knowing Chris would be devastated if it was a career-ending injury.

“He’s gonna be a little out of it because of the pain meds but he’s not in pain and should be fine as long as he doesn’t jostle his shoulder” the nurse said as you reached his room.

“Thank you,” you said before quietly opening the door to his room.

Chris was fast asleep, his arm in a sling. His mom sat by his bed, she smiled when she saw the both of you walk in.

“Coach you didn’t need to come” she said quietly, getting up to shake his hand.

“I couldn’t not check in with my star captain,” your dad said with a small smile.

“And you must be Y/N,” she said turning to you “Chris has said so much about you”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise “he has?” You asked in surprise.

“Yes! He’s been asking for you since he got here, didn’t care about the game” Lisa chuckled in disbelief.

“Wow,” you muttered in disbelief, glancing over at your dad. What you needed to do was going to be much harder now.

At that exact moment, Chris began to stir, his mom stepped out of the way gesturing for you to go to him. You walked to his side, resting a hand carefully on his chest.

“Chris,” you said softly.

He blinked a couple of times, clearly still a bit loopy as he couldn’t keep his eyes open or his head still.

“Hey sweetheart, how you feeling?” You asked as you brushed some hair out of his face.

Chris frowned and pushed your hand away “Sorry” he slurred “I’m sure you’re lovely but I’m taken”

“What?” You asked confused.

“Her name is Y/N and she’s amazing and so strong as amazing and I love her so I’m sorry but not gonna happen” he slurred shaking his head.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, he didn’t recognise you in his drugged-out haze. You heard Lisa chuckle behind you, muttering how cute it was.

“Chris, sweetheart it’s me, it’s Y/N,” you told him softly.

Chris squinted at you, a look of deep concentration on his face before his face lit up and he gasped “Babe! You’re here! Why did you take you so long!” He complained.

“I’m sorry I came as fast as I could” you apologised smiling down at him “and I love you”

Chris gave you a lopsided grin as he reached out to take your hand and kiss your knuckles “I love you too” he said making you chuckle, clearly, he didn’t realise he had already admitted that to you “Did you win the match for me?”

You nodded “Absolutely destroyed the Lions, Ari made sure Bryce’s face was black and blue before he got his red card for the tackle,” you told him.

“Good he deserves it, deserves to never play again” Chris said “shame I couldn’t lift the trophy but you’re more important to me”

“I’m glad to hear it, and you’ll have your chance to lift it” you promised him.

“What about your dad? He’s not gonna kill me is he?” Chris asked his eyes going droopy again.

“I won’t let him, now get some rest,” you said softly.

Chris didn’t protest, he nodded his head and rested it back against his pillow. It didn’t take long for him to fall back asleep, softly snoring.

Once you were sure he was fast asleep you turned back around to face your dad. He had an unreadable look on his face, you were about to say something but he turned and left the room.

You quickly followed after him catching up with him in the hallway “Dad!” You called out making him stop and turn around to face you “You can’t seriously expect me to call it off after that”

Your dad sighed and shook his head “No I can’t”

“Then what’s wrong? Are you angry with me?” You demanded.

Your dad sighed and opened his mouth before shutting it again “I- I just, I need some time” he said holding up his hand.

“Dad” you sighed.

“Stop, I’ll come to you when-“ he didn’t finish his sentence. He just turned and walked away, fists clenched down by his sides.

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