#to be constantly glancing up to answer questions or greetings while in the middle of a heart-stopping battle lmao

[systemrestart]

Nice!!!!! PCB Extra clear with ReimuA

Man, Reimu's homing shots are SO WEAK in this game. Made it harder to deal with both the stage and bosses, it took so damn long to kill things ;;;; But, the homing did help with a couple spellcards, and it's always nice to have Reimu's tiny hitbox lol.

Hoping to take down Yukari soon B^)

[legends-of-time]

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 32: July 1922

Masterlist

Apparently, Cora's brother is really in some hot water as whatever trouble he was in has become a proper scandal and a telegraph has been sent calling Robert to the U.S. as that'll help Harold Levinson's profile. Emma wishes she knew more about this scandal, they're calling it the Tea Pot Dome scandal, but she doesn't as she'd never cared to look into U.S. political history.

This leads to some panic among some living at Downton as Robert is leaving today and Mr Bates doesn't want to leave Anna now and Anna desperately doesn't want him to. Mrs Hughes comes up with the plan to get Mary to argue for Mr Bates not to go, something about Anna being her maid carrying more weight. Mrs Hughes later confesses that she had to tell Mary everything about the attempted rape though kept up the lie of it being a random stranger.

Robert is very disgruntled about not having Mr Bates with him but Emma happily suggests he takes Thomas with him since he used to be his valet. Emma also thinks it may be best to get him out of the house as Gemma reports that Miss Baxter seems to be tormented by Thomas, who seems to be constantly whispering to her and making demands.

——

Emma sits with Edith in some chairs in the Library as they're surrounded by Tom, Mr Napier and Mr Blake. They're conversing about the running of the estate with them when, in the middle of their conversation, Jimmy opens the door for Violet and Rose.

"Judging how things are going, he can manage very well." Tom is saying as the two women enter.

"Oh? Are we disturbing the conclave?" Violet remarks. Emma and Edith stand to greet her while Rose moves to sit on one of the settees.

"We're just discussing the pigs." Emma tells her.

"Ah, the arrival of the pigs and the departure of their master." Violet says as she walks further into the room. Emma frowns as she notes how out of breath and almost wheezy Violet is.

"It's sad Lord Grantham has to miss it." Mr Napier says.

"Are the pigs a good idea, Mr Blake?" Violet asks their guest.

"It's a good idea for estates like this to maximise and diversify." Mr Blake replies. "The question is whether or not Lord Grantham and Lady Mary fully appreciate what they're taking on."

Edith and Emma share an amused look at that remark.

"Oh? You ask as if the answer were no." Violet remarks as she takes a seat.

"Mr Blake is not under Mary's spell." Edith says.

Mr Carson walks in with a glass of water on a tray. "Mrs Crawley." He announces.

Isobel enters. "Morning."

She receives some nods and murmurs of good morning.

Mr Carson leans down with his tray to Violet. "Your water, M’lady."

"Thank you, Carson."

Isobel sits in a chair next to Violet. "Are you feeling hot? I am. I've just walked up from the Village."

"I am a bit hot, but I didn't walk." Violet replies a little breathlessly.

——

Emma walks over to Thomas who is watching Jimmy and Mr Moseley as they load the waiting car with Robert's luggage while dressed in a coat and hat. Mr Carson, Mrs Hughes, Miss Baxter, Anna, Gemma and the other housemaids stand in a line, in the usual useless but very decorative way. On the other side of the front door, the family are assembled.

"Well, good luck on your journey. Be sure to enjoy yourself." Emma greets him with a smile.

Thomas raises an amused eyebrow and wears a slight smirk on his face. "Are you sure you're not expecting some gift?"

Emma shrugs. "Wouldn't hurt."

Thomas huffs a laugh before glancing over Emma's shoulder. She turns to see he's staring at Anna.

"I'm sure you know why I'm going and not Mr Bates." Thomas says.

Emma tries to keep her cool. It's not easy lying to Thomas. "No, I don't."

"Mmm..."

It is then Cora and Robert walk out of the door so Emma moves to stand next to Tom again and leans down to pet Isis who sits next to him. Mr Blake and Mr Napier approach the Earl and Countess.

"Lady Grantham says we can stay 'til we're done. But it'll be a few weeks more. I hope you don't mind." Mr Blake says.

"Not if you make yourselves useful." Robert shakes hands with the two men.

"We will." Mr Napier says.

Robert turns to Edith. "Try to be strong, my darling."

Edith smiles bravely. "I will."

"Gregson must be out there somewhere. I wish you'd let me send a detective."

"There's no point." Edith dismisses. "His firm's already done all that, to no avail."

"Well, if there's anything you want us to do, Mama will give you whatever you need." Robert kisses her on the cheek, then moves on to Violet. "Goodbye, Mama."

"Goodbye, my dear." They embrace, too. "Try not to let those Yankees drive you mad."

Robert moves on to Mary, who seems to be distracted, Emma knows she must be thinking of what she had learned about what happened to Anna.

"Mary? Why so preoccupied?" Robert asks.

"Am I? I'm afraid my mind is on other things. Anyway, goodbye, Papa." They embrace. "And please try to enjoy yourself."

"Good luck with the pigs." He turns to Rose, embracing her too. "Rose, I leave you in charge of fun!"

"Oh, mission understood, Captain."

"Goodbye, Isobel." Robert embraces her before moving on to Emma and Tom. Emma and Robert embrace. "Bye, Emma. Please an eye on any nuisance and say my farewell to Billy. It's a shame he has already gone to work."

Emma smiles. "Of course."

"Bye, Tom." They shake hands. "Look after all my womenfolk, including Isis." He quietens his voice, "Especially Isis." He leans down to say goodbye to his dog.

"I'll try my best."

Mr Molesley has put the finishing touches to securing the luggage and Robert has taken his seat in the back of the car. Thomas walks around to sit next to the chauffeur and gets in. The car starts moving away. Another follows, laden with even more luggage. After watching the cars leave, everyone begins to move back inside.

——

Tom is driving Isobel and Emma along in the open car. Emma sits next to her husband in the passenger seat while Isobel sits in the back. The cars of this time, particularly this open one, still unnerve Emma but she's getting better though she still doesn't like the lack of safety with them. Seatbelts at even a thing yet and when they do, they don't become enforced and mandatory to wear in the UK until the 1970s as far as she's aware. Her parents used to tell her stories of what the cars were like when they were young.

"It's nice of you to drive me home." Isobel says.

"I'm meeting the new pig man." Tom replies.

"And I wanted to join." Emma injects. "Having a ride in the car with you is just an added bonus." She looks over her should and she and Isobel share a smile.

"I do worry about the two of yous lives away from the estate. Is there any?" Isobel asks.

"Not until I'm back at work I suppose." Emma says. Now that she thinks about it, she really doesn't have much of a life outside of the family.

"I've got no time." Tom remarks.

"What happened to your politics, Tom?"

"They vanished. Along with that silly chauffeur chap named Branson." He makes it sound funnier than he feels it is. Emma frowns at his words and tries to catch his eye to share her disapproval and unhappiness at his words but he avoids them and focuses on the road.

Isobel laughs. "I don't believe that. And neither does Emma. I gather the MP, John Ward, is coming to speak in Ripon tomorrow at the Town Hall. I could get tickets."

Emma perks up in interest and turns to Isobel briefly. "Oh, can I join?"

"Of course."

"Nah, I don't think so." Tom digresses. "I'm not a fan of the Coalition as it is. And he's only here because Lloyd George thinks an election's coming."

"Well, I doubt he has long, poor dear. But I don't think you're being fair to Mr Ward." Isobel argues.

"I might be good. Spark your interest and all that." Emma gives her husband a pleading look when he glances at her.

"Let's go. What do you say?" Isobel persists.

"I say you better be nice to me, or I'll tell old Lady Grantham you called Lloyd George 'poor dear.'" Tom remarks.

They all laugh heartily.

——

Relations between Mary and Mr Blake have not improved. Mary has reported that Mr Napier reported to her that Mr Blake thinks she's aloof and is not prepared to fight for the estate when it comes to it. Emma could see at dinner that night that Mary was fighting an uphill battle whenever they spoke. Emma hopes their guests leave soon or the tension between Mary and Mr Blake gets resolved. Though Emma can't help but think that there may be something that could happen between them which leaves Emma conflicted as she quite like Mr Napier.

The next day, Edith and Rose go up to London. They get the news that Violet has fallen ill with Bronchitis. Emma hurries over with Mary and Cora to see her. They arrive at the Dower house and stand in Violet's room to see a very ill Violet who's harshly coughing.

Isobel, in an apron, is preparing the inhaler.

"But are you certain? There must be something we can do." Cora says worriedly as she gazes upon her unwell mother-in-law.

"There isn't. I can manage very easily with help from the servants." Isobel replies. "We just have to stop it turning into pneumonia. That's the real danger."

"It seems rather unfair to saddle you with it all." Mary says.

Emma nods. "She's right. I'm a trained nurse, Isobel. Shouldn't I help?"

Isobel shakes her head. "No. I've had training and I wouldn't want you passing anything onto the children."

"Why is the food so disgusting, suddenly?" Violet groans from the bed.

"She doesn't know what she's saying." Isobel says.

"I wouldn't be too sure." Mary remarks, drawing a smile from Emma.

"Everything she puts into my mouth is absolutely disgusting." It's really hard to tell whether she's delirious or just honest.

"Perhaps we'd better get out of your way." Cora says.

"That's all I ask. I'll ring up if there's any change." Isobel reassures.

——

Tom comes walking into the Library. Mary is at the writing desk, Cora is sitting in an armchair nearby, doing embroidery and Emma is reading another book on one of the settees.

"Well, the pigs have arrived." Tom remarks as he walks into the room.

Emma looks up sharply and slams her book closed. "Christ, the pigs! I knew I'd forgotten something!" She exclaims. Tom looks amused at her comment while Cora smiles while also giving her a disapproving look for her language. Honestly, Emma is nearly 32 but that doesn't stop Cora from mothering her.

Mary ignores this as she turns to Tom. "Oh, I'd have come, if I'd known."

"I looked for the two of you. They said you'd gone to your grandmother's. It all went off smoothly. We can walk down and see them tomorrow." Tom reassures.

"Tom, did you get the message about the tickets for the talk in Ripon?" Cora asks.

"I did. Why can't she come?"

"Because Mama's ill and Isobel is nursing her." Tom nods at this.

"Perhaps we can invite Billy? It is his day off." Emma suggests.

"What a lovely idea. He seems only think about his work and nothing else." Cora comments

"What's the thing in Ripon?" Mary questions.

"A Liberal MP is speaking." Tom answers. "Are you sure we should still go? It was Isobel's idea."

"Why? Just because we're not political, you mustn't be put off." Mary argues.

"And I want to go and so will Billy when we tell him." Emma adds, giving a pointed look to her husband.

Tom turns to Mary. "You won't come with us then? We could get another ticket?"

"I'd rather go to the stake."

Cora and Emma chuckle. Despite himself, Tom smiles.

——

The Town Hall is already full when Billy, Emma and Tom arrive and is filled almost to the last chair. The audience is mostly men, but there are some women as well. Next to one of the latter, a chair is still empty. Emma turns to Tom and Billy and points her out.

"Seems there's only two chairs next to that woman." She says.

"Go ahead." Tom says. "I'll stand in back and see you after."

Emma and Billy nod and go down the centre of the aisle. They sidle in and Emma leans around Billy to address the woman next to the empty chairs.

"Hello, are these seats taken?" Emma asks.

The woman turns to them with a pleasant smile and replies, "No." They sit and she turns to them. "Sarah Bunting." She introduces.

"Emma Branson and this is my good friend Billy Prior." Emma replies.

"Oh, not married? To each other?"

Emma and Billy share an amused look before Emma turns back to Miss Bunting, shaking her head. "No, my husband is in back." Emma turns to glance at Tom. "That's him there."

"He let us take the chairs since there was only two available." Billy adds.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Miss Bunting says.

"Well, it was us two that really wanted to come." Emma remarks. "I do want him to pay attention, and it's bound to be a long talk."

Miss Bunting frowns slightly. "Does he not like politics?"

Emma smiles. "He likes it a bit too much. He's a socialist, so he doesn't have much patience for the liberals."

"Well, why not invite him over so we can nudge when needed or hold him down when he's annoyed?" Miss bunting remarks.

"Are you sure?" Billy asks. "We will have share our seats between the three of us."

Miss Bunting smiles at him. "Not at all."

There is a smattering of applause as John Ward, MP takes the podium. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm John Ward, and in a while I will ask for questions, so please remember what made you indignant when you last read a newspaper." There is laughter all around the room.

As the talk is about to start, the two women and Billy turn to wave at Tom to get his attention. Of course, Mr Ward is quick to notice.

"Excuse me, are the two young women and gentleman here trying to get my attention?"

They whip around, but Miss Bunting speaks first, "We were trying to get his attention." She points toward Tom.

"And do you know these three?" Mr Ward asks Tom, whom Emma can see is a mix of annoyed and embarrassed. Emma doesn't blame him as she feels the same.

"Yes. One is my wife and the other a friend of ours." Tom replies.

"We just wanted him to sit with us." Emma adds.

"Well, gentlemen," Mr Ward says, addressing the crowd, "we should all be rather jealous. These two young men are very well accompanied."

There is some laughter among the audience, and Tom curtly says, "I'll go sit down."

Emma, Billy and Miss Bunting scoot as close together as they can causing Billy to be a bit squashed between the two women. They smile as they see Tom's expression, not particularly pleased at having been singled out in the crowd. He takes the chair next to Emma, and Mr Ward continues his speech.

Turning to Miss Bunting, Emma says, "May I present my husband, Mr. Tom Branson. Tom, Miss Sarah Bunting."

"Delighted." Miss Bunting says, leaning over Emma and Billy. The latter looks alarmed as the woman practically leans across his lap to shake Tom's hand. Emma giggles as she gets comfortable as she can with her legs practically on Tom's lap.

"Are you sure you're going to be comfortable?" Tom asks in a whisper, pulling Emma's left hand onto his lap.

The man behind them leans forward with a loud "Shhhhh!", which Emma responds to by turning and giving him an annoyed glare.

"Yes, I promise," Emma says when she turns back to Tom.

Throughout Mr Ward's speech, Tom does not have a shortage of responses, which he whispers into Emma's ear at regular intervals. Emma smiles widely as he does so, pleased to see her husband so engaged. Occasionally, if his thought is particularly insightful, Emma passes it on to Billy and Miss Bunting, who are partaking in their own discussions and sometimes nod in agreement and sometimes Miss Bunting comments back to Emma in response. It excites Emma that she may have made a friend who seems as absorbed in the issues of government as she is. Edith and Mary never truly get involved and seem to glaze over when Emma reaches their levels of interest.

——

Once it is over, they stand to leave. Emma and Sarah, she'd insisted, immediately start talking excitedly about all they'd heard with Billy joining in.

After a few minutes, after realising that Tom isn't part of the conversation, Emma turns to look for him and sees that he is nowhere to be found. "Oh, Tom must have already gone out." She says.

"Actually, I think he went to talk with Mr. Ward." Billy tells her, pointing to the front of the room.

Emma turns toward the front of the Hall, where in fact, Tom and several other gentlemen surround Mr Ward and are peppering him with questions. Emma brightens. "Oh, good! I'm glad to see he's trying to reignite his interest in politics. I was worried that I was forcing him too much."

"He did seem very knowledgeable about it all. Has he wanted to go into politics?" Sarah asks.

"Well, he did. When we first met, it was what he dreamed of doing. After we married, he worked as a political journalist in Ireland, but when we had to return here—" Emma stops short, realising she was about to reveal her and Tom's story to a woman she'd met only a couple of hours ago.

"Why did you leave Ireland?" Sarah questions. Billy looks uncomfortable at the woman's line of questioning.

Emma laughs to hide her own uncomfortableness. "It's too long of story to tell."

"Will you go back?"

"No. It's not possible to now." Emma looks around, hoping to find a way out of the conversation when she notices that Tom and Mr Ward are the only ones left in the Hall. "Excuse me." She excuses herself and moves on to go to Tom, who engages with Mr Ward in a lively, though civil argument, and leaves behind Sarah and Billy.

Seeing her approach, Mr Ward says, "You must be the lucky Mrs Branson."

"That would be me." Emma replies with a pleasant smile, moving to stand next to Tom. "Thank you for an illuminating discourse."

"Well, your husband has found holes in what I thought were well-argued points. I will say you are blessed to have married such a sharp political mind, though my own wife would call it a curse. Speaking of, I should get back to her. She made the trip with me from London." Before turning to leave, he says to Tom, "Do think about what I said."

"What was that?" Emma asks her husband when the MP is out of earshot.

"There's a local committee he thinks I should join to help draft the local platform before the coming election." Tom explains.

"Oh, you should!" Emma exclaims excitedly.

"I do like the idea, though it's not a job in itself." Tom says with a shrug.

"You never know. Might lead to something." Emma says.

Tom shares a smile with her before they move over to where Emma had left Billy and Sarah to see that the two are in conversation though the former looks uncomfortable.

"Why not?" Sarah is asking.

"It's a long story." Billy replies shortly.

"It always seems a long story with you and your friends." Sarah comments.

Billy opens his mouth but Tom cuts in, "We'd better go. Thanks for the seat though."

"Goodnight." Emma says to Sarah with a smile. The woman returns it and Billy says the same to her before the three leave.

Emma glances back to see Sarah's eyes lingering on Billy. Emma wonders if she likes him.

——

What Emma didn't expect the next day was to find out that Mary and Mr Blake had gone out to view the pigs only to discover that they'd been without water and proceeded to use buckets and pumps to get them the water. Seeing Mary fighting for her pigs like that seems to have resolved any dislike Mr Blake had for her and the other way round as well.

Emma is having tea with Tom, Mr Napier and Mr Blake, served by Jimmy, in the Library and are all lingering around the table with their cups when Mary walks in.

"You've heard about our adventures?" Mary asks rhetorically.

"I'm very impressed." Tom remarks with a wide smile.

"We'll make a farmer of you yet." Emma comments with a grin.

Mary rolls her eyes fondly at the two of them and gets her own cup.

Cora walks in by the other door. "There you are!"

"I'm afraid I slept late."

"Have you remembered Tony Gillingham's coming tonight?" Cora asks. Emma grimaces at that. He's a nice enough chap but she doesn't like his badgering Mary. Tom gives her a questioning look which she brushes off.

Mary is surprised. "What? Why?"

"He's driving up to fish the Spey. He asked if he could stay the night. I'm sure I told you."

Mary isn't pleased. Emma is even less so; this means is valet is coming which will only cause trouble plus isn't Gillingham engaged?

"Did he used to be Tony Foyle?" Mr Blake questions.

"That's right. Why?" Cora asks.

"We served together in the war, on board the Iron Duke with Jellicoe." Mr Blake replies. Emma looks at him in surprise.

"Were you at Jutland?" Mary asks.

"We were." He doesn't seem to be keen to talk about this experience or his acquaintance with Gillingham.

"Well, you'll see him again tonight," Cora says. Blake smiles politely into his teacup. "To be honest, I telephoned him and tried to put him off, but he didn't seem to want to be put off."

"Of course he didn't." Emma huffs quietly.

"Don't worry. It's perfectly fine." Mary puts her cup down and walks out. Emma can tell by her tone that it's definitely not fine.

——

They all assemble for dinner in the Drawing room. Rose and Edith have returned early from London and the former is grumbling to Emma about it, Emma sits and listens knowing there are worse things in the world than plans with some friends being cancelled. She mostly watches Edith who's talking to Tom and Billy and looking more miserable than before. Emma had tried to ask what was wrong as it seems to be more than Michael Gregson being missing but Edith avoids the topic.

Jimmy opens the door for Mary and Gillingham. Gillingham walks straight to Mr Blake with a smile on his face and they shake hands before falling into a conversation. Emma frowns as she watches him, worrying about what is occurring downstairs because of his arrival. Mary wanders over to them and Emma can see Mr Blake chuckling heartily and Mary smiling though Gillingham looks less enthused.

"—how could she?" Rose's voice cuts through Emma's thoughts, causing her to look back at the young girl. "I was having such a lovely time with—"

Emma raises her eyebrows questioningly when Rose cuts herself off and looks down awkwardly.

"With who?" Emma asks pointedly, feeling suspicious. Emma hopes she's not messing around again as she had with that married man.

Rose shakes her head. "No one."

"Dinner everyone." Cora calls, ending the conversation.

Rose takes her chance and hurriedly slips away from Emma. Emma sighs as she watches her then her eyes flicker over to Gillingham and Mr Blake. Never a quiet moment in this house.

——

A/N: Has anyone noticed my dislike for Gillingham? 😅 I just can't stand him and how he treated Mabel while chasing after Mary plus I just never got the appeal of him anyway. Emma herself would automatically not want Gillingham around because of the Green situation anyway. But I think I've injected myself enough into her character for us to agree on not liking Gillingham.

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[emanooono]

i can't stop thinking ab rin🫂

when you were still a child, you used to spend most of the time in one of the parks in roppongi. one day, when you were sitting on a swing and having the best time of your life, one boy suddenly appeared.

he took the swing next to you and made an eye contact with you. the boy glanced at you for a while, not leaving you out of his sight. you didn't know how to feel so you continued swinging, soon he did the same.

after few minutes another guy approached the park, but he seemed older. clearly the taller boy came up to the shorter one and gave him a sign to stand up.

they were about to leave when the little one turned around and asked for your name. he also introduced himself as rindou and his older brother as ran.

after that day that park became yours and rindou's special place. you two mostly met each other there, had conversations about yourselves while the sun was slowly setting.

you enjoyed spending time with haitanis in general. they were very fun and talkative. soon they began to take you to their house often. you got closer to ran. once he asked you to braid his hair. you did, and he loved it, even gave you small kiss on your cheek as a thank you.

to wrap it all up, you spent the best times of your childhood around haitani brothers, and so did they.

your relationship with rindou was different. he was really friendly with you, unlike with others. as you grew up together you noticed that his behavior with others were completely contrasting, compared to you.

rindou used to take you home everyday during middle school, while always holding your hand. the reason he would bring up for this act was that 'it's dangerous for you to walk alone'. because of that his older brother used to constantly make fun of him, which annoyed rindou more than anything.

one day ran teased him so much to the point that rindou accidentally screamed out his feelings for you to his brother. ran obviously knew that since the day one. he gave some advice to his younger brother, also telling him to confess quickly before someone else would.

rindou trusted his brother more than anything and now he was fully determined to confess to you.

after school ended, rindou found you in the class alone. he slowly approached you while trying to remember what to say. you didn't have any time to greet him because he finally got to admit his liking towards you.

your eyes widened at the unexpected moment, still trying to process the new information. rindou waited for you to speak up, his breathing getting heavier and his face turning a bit red. the boy started stressing to the max when you still weren't answering.

"rindou, i like you too" you professed, trying to hold an eye contact but it felt impossible because of your nervousness. his face lit up and his lips curled up into a big smile.

"but yknow.. i think it would be better for both of us to wait a little before.. um- dating"

rindou's smile quickly turned into a pout, not understanding what you meant. you noticed his face expression change and tried to specify your point.

"i'm just saying that we're still in middle school and- neither of us know how dating actually works yknow" you explained. "i still do like you.. more than a friend to be specific but i think it would be better to wait til high school" you looked down on the ground, feeling like you said something dumb and that he wouldn't understand anything.

even though, whatever you said was true and you didn't want to make stupid mistakes and then regret it after. maybe it was stupid, letting go the opportunity to date your childhood crush but his decision would prove his love so much more than words could.

that day rindou felt really confused so he decided to tell ran about everything that happened. the older brother thought a bit and understood your point.

"well thats kinda smart yknow?" ran asked while rindou was giving him a questioning look. "i mean that your perspective on stuff changes when you're in high school, so when you guys are older, you'll both take this more seriously and maybe it'll turn out to be more long-lasting relationship than other high school couples have" ran theorized, feeling his ego go up when he saw rindou realizing his brother's explanation.

"so yeah, that's prolly it" ran stood up and patted younger brother's head. "you got pretty AND smart girl in your hands, you just have to wait for a bit"

years have passed after this event and haitanis life continued completely on different paths compared to yours. you still had contact with them and, fortunately, there wasn't any misunderstandings or awkwardness between you and rin.

though, in the second year of high school things changed. you were slowly loosing contact with brothers because you were busy with homework while they were busy with their gang life.

soon it was your birthday and rindou decided to buy you something. he chose a gift and visited you in school. when you were about to leave the class someone suddenly tried entering so it ended up with you two bumping into each other.

when you stepped behind a little you saw rindou. "l-leaving already?" he stuttered because of the sudden interaction. you mumbled 'mhmm' and let him enter the room.

"happy birthday" he followed you as you stood in front of the window. "i got you a present" rin handed you the cute purple box.

"ooh, thank you so much" you smiled at him and asked if you could open it right now. he nodded and patiently waited to see your reaction.

you put the box in front of the window and opened it. there was a silver colored necklace with a small heart shape in the middle. the heart was red and it had little white dots around.

"rin.. this is beautiful" you lips curled up in a soft smile, your head turning to look at him. rindou leaned on a window and stared back at you, smiling.

"want me to put it on?" he asked as he shifted behind you while you were facing the view out of the window. "sure" you answered as he took the necklace and wrapped it around your neck.

"you remember what you said to me few years ago, right?" rin asked and slowly shifted closer to you.

"about what?"

"about us" whispered in your ear from behind and you felt your face heat up because of the sudden close contact.

"yeah, i do" you mumbled and felt him slowly hug your figure.

"we're in high school now" rindou placed his head on your shoulder, admiring your side profile. "do you have anything to say?" he questioned.

your mind almost went blank, not knowing what to answer. you waited for this moment for so long and now that it's finally happening, you're just out of breath and words. your face turned more and more red and the blush wasn't unrecognized by rindou.

"c'mon say what you have to say, don't make me wait anymore" his whispers made your heart flutter. the way his body was touching yours and the way he was talking almost made you melt on the spot.

you tried to open your mouth but nothing came out at first. you planted your face in your hands, feeling a bit embarrassed. the silence was loud and you knew you had to say something quickly.

"i'm in love with you, rindou" you finally confessed and he smiled. rin slowly moved away your hands from your face, taking a good look at your breathtaking face. "no need to be so shy about it, i'm in love with you too" the boy breathed out.

"i've been in love with you for so long now. i can't believe this finally happened" he admitted as you left his embrace to open the window and take a deep breath.

rindou chuckled and when you turned around he trapped you in between his arms, finally looking at you in the eyes.

you placed your hands on his chest and he moved them on his face. he leaned into your touch and closed his eyes for a minute. then rindou slowly came forward, his gaze not leaving you. he planted a soft kiss on your lips and wrapped his limbs around you to pull you closer.

you two stayed like this for some time, enjoying each other's touch. then he slowly pulled out of the kiss and looked at you once again.

"you have no idea what you do to me, y/n"

[taetaespeaches]

“I may or may not have met someone.”

taehyung x reader (oc) (platonic); reader (oc) x oc boyfriend; reader (oc) x platonic! yoongi/jimin/jungkook genre: angst; fluff word count: 20.7K

warnings: verbal/emotional abuse, an instance of slut shaming, toxic relationship, just overall cruelty from a partner. 

↬ summary: How does one find themself in a toxic relationship? And how does one get out? Sometimes, the pain that comes with the love becomes addicting. Fighting becomes an act of passion, cruelty becomes perceived truth, the periods of calm become potential for what the relationship could be if only you could meet in the middle. 

Peaches/reader meets someone who she quickly falls in love with. As she grapples with the fact that this man is not who she thought he was, and as her sense of self diminishes as a result of the relationship, her closest friends slowly learn of the toxicity of the union. 

↬ playlists: reader (oc) x oc boyfriend; taehyung x reader (oc) —I listened to these constantly while writing.

a/n: Hi lovelies! 20,000 words wtf?! I hope those of you who have been following the fics enjoy this massive thing about Peaches and her ex-boyfriend. I think it explains a lot about how Peaches approaches relationships later on, and how resisted a romantic relationship with Taehyung for so long. If you read this fic, I sincerely thank you. I’ve been working on it for the past two months and it’s been a damn experience, that’s for sure. I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for reading! :))

This piece is timestamped in accordance to the development with Peaches’/reader’s relationship.  

The beginning: the telling signs.

Stepping into the cafe, you easily spotted your three friends. It was hard to miss the trio of morons shooting straw wrappers at each other and slapping each other’s arms. Putting their antics aside, you started toward the counter to order a drink before joining them.

Making your way to the boys, Jungkook greeted you with a “Sup Peachy?” causing you to shoot him a look of near disgust.

“Hey freak,” you acknowledged him as you sat down. “When you walk in this place it literally looks like play time at daycare over here.”

As soon as you took your seat next to your best friend, his hand was covering your own to get your attention. Glancing at him, he nodded to the drink, an iced coffee with a fragment of the wrapper still snugly fit on the tip of the straw. You had to stop yourself from giggling at his desire to be recognized for his sweet gesture.

“Is she calling us immature?” Jimin asked Jungkook across the table from you.

“Thank you,” you nudged Taehyung, grateful for the drink. Looking in front of you, you found Jungkook glaring at you in thought.

“Her?” He questioned. “Couldn’t be. I know Peachy, queen of immaturity, isn’t calling us immature.”

“I was though. You guys are children.” Then, only to enunciate Jungkook’s point, you pulled the straw from your coffee and blew through the bottom, sending the piece of wrapper flying into Jungkook’s face. “How’s idol life been?”

“Good,” Taehyung answered from beside you. “Well, hard, I’m tired. But good.”

Jungkook continued staring at you in disapproval, making you hold back a smile as you ignored him. Meanwhile, Jimin scooped up the straw wrapper and started flattening it between his fingers.

With your eyes on his hands, you studied him for a moment. “Jimin?” You called for his attention, his gaze lifting from the table top to meet yours. “How are you?”

“Oh, like Tae said, tired but good,” he nodded. His fingers kept toying with the paper. You only needed to keep your attention on him for a few more seconds and you knew he’d give in. “I’m tired but I don’t think I’m working hard enough.”

“That’s not true,” you quickly assured him. “You’re working plenty hard, too hard.” Jimin granted you a small smile, an appreciative one, though you weren’t sure if the words had truly reached him. “You’re seriously amazing, you all-”

“Heart eye emojis?” Taehyung suddenly spoke next to you. And as soon as the words rang in your ears, you could feel your body heat with embarrassment. Eyes snapping to your phone screen, you found the ID tag, that was simply two heart eye emojis, displayed in the form of a new message. Reaching for the device, you quickly turned it upside down and glared at Taehyung. “Sorry,” he immediately said guiltily.

“Tae, could you not peek at my phone?” You weren’t really angry at him, just shy and embarrassed and dreading having to explain this to the other two boys at the table.

“I didn’t mean to look. It vibrated and it was just, there. Right in front of me, I would have had to try to not see it,” Taehyung explained, a still guilty but amused little smile curving on his lips.

“Heart eyes?” Jimin asked, his eyebrows raised as he shot you a flirty smirk. “Care to explain why you’re so flustered?”

Jungkook was chewing on his bottom lip across from you as he studied your features. He was holding back a bratty smile and you wanted to kick him under the table just for the possibility that he was even thinking of teasing you.

“We were talking about Jimin,” you reminded the trio, Jungkook snorting.

“Yeah, until your new friend came up. Who’s ‘heart eyes’, Peachy?” Jungkook teased. There it was, the bratty smile. I’m gonna kick you.

“He’s a friend,” you emphasized. “Like you said. Just a new friend.”

“Don’t lie, you have his contact as the heart eye emojis,” Jimin chuckled, shaking his head. “Do you get this shy when people ask you about Taehyung?”

“Yeah, actually,” you defended.

“What about me?” Jungkook asked. His eyes were shaped in that bambi-like way that you found to be so cute.

“No one asks about you,” you teased, the man scoffing as he pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

Suddenly, a pinch on the side of your thigh broke your focus on messing with the youngest man. Looking at the bench, you found Tae’s hand, palm up, welcoming your own hand into it. He was trying to comfort you, which was sweet, despite him being the reason you were uncomfortable in the first place. Placing your hand in his, you allowed him to fold his fingers over your own.

“Ok, fine, I may or may not have met someone,” you admitted in a quiet voice, barely looking at Jungkook and Jimin. Directing your gaze to Taehyung, you found him flashing you that stunning boxy grin of his, and you couldn’t help but mimic the expression. “He’s really nice,” you assured him, Taehyung squeezing your hand.

“Does he know how annoying you are?” Jungkook asked. Fuck it. With the side of your shoe, you sent a kick against his calf, the man jolting and complaining immediately.

“How’d you meet?” Jimin asked you, ignoring Jungkook’s feigned pain.

Shrugging, you looked to Tae in search of more comfort, suddenly feeling very shy under the attention. “We have a lab together,” you mumbled. “And we got put into the same group.”

“Ah, university things,” Jimin grinned. “We don’t know about that stuff.”

“Well, it’s just a bio lab. And I’m terrible at biology, and he’s kind of great at it. So he offered to help me study,” you held back a smile. However, it quickly broke through when Jimin and Jungkook cooed teasingly.

“He seized the opportunity,” Jimin giggled.

“Who would have thought that you being, sorry, but dumb at biology would score you a date,” Jungkook snorted, making you roll your eyes. Brat.

“I’m not dumb, I just struggle,” you pouted.

“Have you been on a date then?” Taehyung asked curiously from beside you.

“Just one so far,” you replied nonchalantly, but all three boys’ eyes widened as they started oohing at your expense.

“So far,” Jimin teased. Sighing, you waited for their obnoxious teasing to end.

“I like him, ok?” You groaned, lowering your face toward the table.

“Our girl is in love,” Jungkook cooed, fully intending to sound like a pest.

“Not in love,” you immediately corrected. “In like. I don’t know, I’m still getting to know him. But he’s charming and sweet and funny and he makes me feel good about myself. I feel, I don’t know just, understood by him,” you rambled shyly.

“Not all the telling signs of a narcissist,” Jungkook interjected teasingly, all three of you looking at him with glares. “I’m joking,” he defended with wide doe eyes. “Mostly,” he added in a whisper. As Jimin hit Jungkook in the arm, you rolled your eyes, mumbling for him to “shut up.”

“If he treats you well and makes you happy, that’s good enough for me,” Taehyung refocused the conversation. You looked to him to find him smiling at you sincerely, radiating kindness. “Be happy, Peaches.”

The second date: warning signs.

Dinner dates usually felt quite stuffy to you. You supposed getting to know someone over a meal was an ideal environment but you’d much rather be doing something. Conversing over a couple plates of food was, well, awkward. However, in the presence of Heart Eyes, as your friends had dubbed him, you would be happy doing anything. Sitting across the table from him, you admired the way his charming smile always met his eyes, and how those orbs seemed to always be on you. You had all of his attention. It put you on edge, but it was flattering to know he was looking at you.

It felt as though you had met your twin flame, or some other fated other half. All night he had been matching your thoughts, finishing your sentences, reflecting your wants and needs. When you told him you wanted a career where you could be creative, like photography or writing, he called you amazing and inspirational. As you told him that The Wizard of Oz gave you a fear of monkeys as a kid but it still remained as your comfort movie, he laughed and told you that he loved the film too. Everything felt so meant to be, you nearly questioned whether it was too good to be true.

He was calm, collected, ever so charming. An ideal man, really. Tall, handsome, kind, generous. Every person he met could have been an old friend of his the way he granted them his gorgeous smile and friendliness.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you and the waiter were childhood pals,” you teased. And there was that grin again. God, he was beautiful.

“How do you mean?” He chuckled. “Aren’t you friendly to strangers?”

“Of course, or, at least I think so,” you smiled shyly. “I have been told I have a cold first impression.”

“You do,” he laughed, leaning forward. “First, second, fifth impression, actually. I was terrified of you in lab.”

Looking at him in surprise, you cocked your head. “Really?” When he nodded, you had to conceal the scoff that nearly slipped out. “I’m just shy.”

“That’s cute, I like that,” he complimented. “I don’t know if I’d say you were cold.” Raising your eyebrows at him with a small smile, you encouraged him to elaborate. “More just aloof.”

“Is that not the same thing?” You challenged with a quirk of your eyebrow.

“No, no, I think I mean that you just appear kind of cool. Like too cool for randos in your lab. Like you could not be fucked to waste your time on some people,” he clarified with that same charming smile. “Kind of mysterious,” his smile morphed into an attractive smirk. “It was intimidating to talk to you.”

“Oh my god, I intimidated you?” You questioned in disbelief. “Impossible.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because, you’re you. You have literally everyone wrapped around your finger,” you pointed out. He was stunning. Everyone thought so.

“Oh whatever,” he chuckled, leaning back against his chair.

“You’re so charming and attractive, and you’re so nice to everyone,” you listed out with a huff. “Of course everyone is obsessed with you.”

“Maybe that’s why you were the one who captured my attention then, huh?” Pulling your eyebrows together in question, he chuckled lightly. “You wouldn’t give me the time of day for weeks. I had to keep pulling you into conversations and you remained so indifferent.”

“I was never indifferent, I’m just shy,” you said again.

“Point is, it was sexy,” he smirked. If you had been eating or drinking in that moment, you would have choked for sure. Sexy? Heat spread across your skin as you averted your eyes, glancing down to your plate as you bit back a grin. “You made me work for it.”

“Alright, Prince Charming,” you said dismissively, looking up at him with a small smile. “Cool it with the smoothness.”

“Smoothness?” He chuckled. “I’m just saying, if someone calls you cold, you should interpret it as you being sexy. That’s all.”

“Thanks,” you giggled lightly. The conversation fizzled out for a moment, his eyes remaining on you. You felt nervous under his gaze. It was like there was a constant flutter of butterflies in your stomach every time he was around. Reaching for your drinking glass to distract yourself from his attention, you could feel your heart racing inside your chest as he continued to watch you while you took a sip of the drink.

“You laugh a lot,” he suddenly said, the comment causing a new wave of embarrassment to course through your very being. Did you? Was that a bad thing? In the midst of your mortification, your brain forgot to tell your throat to swallow the drink, causing you to briefly choke on the beverage, a series of muffled coughs escaping your mouth as you set the glass down in panic and covered your mouth with the napkin. Fuck, fuck, fuck. If there is a God, please, drop me into hell right now. But of course, the ground did not open up and swallow you, and instead, your date stared at you from across the table with a look of shock and his own second-hand embarrassment.

“Jesus,” he mumbled, leaning forward as his eyes searched over the restaurant as if to ensure no one was paying attention to your uncontrollable outburst. “Are you ok?” He whispered, voice hushed.

“Yeah,” you croaked out before coughing once more. “Sorry.” The man watched you for another moment before a smile finally quirked on his lips, along with a scoff that resembled a laugh. The sound once again had you on edge, uncomfortable as you sat there in shame. For a moment, you hoped he would comfort you by telling you it was ok. When that assurance didn’t come, you found yourself aching to save the evening. Wanting to lighten the mood, desperate to recover the date and get back to where it started, you sighed and suddenly did a fake hair flip. “So things about me that you don’t know,” you started with a smirk. “I’m kind of a mess.”

“Shhh,” he hushed you, looking around the room once again, a hint of a smile on his lips. Were you too loud? Glancing to a couple tables across from yours, you found no one paying you any mind but you still worried you were an annoyance. Note to self: shut the fuck up and lower your volume, you dumbass. “I can see that,” he finally answered, his orbs landing on you once again. His stare was unwavering for a moment before he finally broke out into a smile, shaking his head. “I think that’s enough unwanted attention for the night, don’t you think? Should we head out?”

“Uh,” you looked down at your plate, taking in the half eaten meal. “Yeah, I guess- are you ready to go?”

Giving you another smile, he simply chuckled. “Let’s get the check.”

One year earlier: familiar strangers.  

You were much too shy to be getting coffee with a complete stranger. Well, not complete stranger. You did know his name was Taehyung, he was from Daegu, his family were farmers, and he was your age. Nerves coursed through your body as you glanced to the man who sat across from you with his hands around a cup of hot chocolate.

“Have you always liked coffee?” He asked, breaking the silence. Surprisingly, the silence hadn’t been uncomfortable, but rather it was just full of nervous energy. You appreciated his attempt at conversation, nonetheless.

Humming in thought, you nodded. “I think so. My dad was a big coffee drinker so I always wanted to drink it with him, but I needed a lot of sugar and milk.”

“You played grown up,” he gave a nod in understanding.

“Exactly,” you smiled.

“I would pretend to read the paper with my dad,” he chuckled at the memory. The man had a smile that took over his whole face. The kind of adorable grin that was contagious. You found yourself smiling back at him as though you could see the memory he was looking back on. “Do you still like sugar and milk in your coffee?”

“Sometimes. Not like when I was little though,” you giggled. “I swear I must have had a dash of coffee with my cup of milk and way too many spoonfuls of sugar.” He smiled again, a cute giggle accompanying the gesture. “I’m guessing you’re not a coffee fan?” You nodded to the cup of hot chocolate.

“Hate it,” he pulled a grimace. “It’s so bitter.” Laughing at him, you nodded in understanding. “I guess I’m still in my dash of coffee with my milk and sugar phase.”

“It’s a good phase,” you assured him. “I’ve heard that sweet people have sweet tooths.” Why the fuck did I just say that? Before you could get too caught up in your post-comment embarrassment, Taehyung shot you a wide-eyed look.

“Is that true?”

“Oh,” you stuttered. “I mean I’ve heard it before, I’m not sure about the science,” you laughed at yourself.

“I like your laugh,” Taehyung suddenly complimented. Feeling heat spread throughout your body, you smiled at the sweet words.

“Thank you,” you giggled once more. You were still nervous, but there was a sense of comfort that nestled around you two. It gave you more courage than you were used to having in first meetings. Which was probably what led you to say your next words. “Maybe we should continue hanging out so I can test this sweet cravings, sweet person theory.”

The smile and youthful laugh that left the man’s lips served as answer enough. You’d definitely be seeing this sweet boy again.

One month in: credit due.

He was a perfect gentleman in all situations. Not that you were surprised. He had endless charms, all stunning smiles and friendly conversation, but always remaining so cool and composed. The man seemed too good to be true as he navigated through the university campus, nodding at old classmates as though they were still pals who hung out every two weeks.

“How do you know him?” You asked after you had walked away from a fellow student where your now boyfriend had introduced you as his “lovely girlfriend”.

“We had an intro to literature class together as first years.” Looking at him with a questioning look, he widened his eyes. “What?”

“Have you hung out with him since?”

“No,” he chuckled.

“Wow, you’re literally friends with everyone and you don’t even know it,” you smiled. “Everyone loves you.”

“That’s not true, I’m just friendly,” he grinned. “You should try it sometime,” he nudged your arm with his elbow.

“What, being friendly? Not for me,” you teased, pulling a look of feigned disgust. “Did you help him with his school work too, or am I special?”

“No,” he shook his head, “that class was bullshit. So is classic literature.” Gasping in feigned shock, you halted your steps. Groaning at you, he turned to face you with a shrug. “What?”

“Have we found something you’re not good at?” You asked teasingly. “I’m shocked.”

“Oh calm down, remind me again who got you an A on your last biology exam?” Giving you a proud smirk, you playfully rolled your eyes. He had helped you study for two weeks, sacrificing his own time to ensure you’d be prepared. The man was always doing things like that, helping others, as though he was some sort of selfless heavenly body.

You had busted your ass studying and going to extra lectures your professor held, however. It took a lot of work to pull the grade. You earned it. “I did,” you informed him with a teasing smile. “You just helped.”

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” he nodded as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

Four months in: the no show.

Quite honestly, this was not what you signed up for. Looking at the clock, you resigned yourself to the fact that your boyfriend was once again skipping out on coming over. It would have hurt whether it was the first time or not. But it wasn’t the first time.

Were relationships supposed to make you feel so disposable? You’d had flings in high school, and even an on and off girlfriend, and they all seemed unable to get enough of you. The only reason those relationships ended was because your interest fizzled.

When it came to Heart Eyes, your interest was never waning. It was like he was the cure to your fickleness. Or maybe he just gave so little, teasing, giving you a taste making you crave more and more of his affection that you became addicted. You just wanted a little more of his love. You needed the rush. And you wanted the relationship, you wanted him, you just wanted the version of him that wasn’t distant or uncaring.

Looking at your phone one more time, you sighed a shaky breath. No messages. And then the anxiety hit. Shivering, your body temperature running as cold as your lover’s love, you accepted the unpleasant feeling that you had become accustomed to. Making your way to the bath, you hoped the hot water would provide you with some solace from the feeling of rejection and uncertainty that was manifesting through chattering teeth and goosebumps.

It wasn’t always missed hang outs. It was also unanswered texts for days on end. It was prioritization of the other people in his life. It was the subtle ways he cut you down to ensure you stayed below him where you belonged. It was the way he never asked how you were, tuned out when you spoke about your feelings, or blew up when you addressed your concerns with the relationship.

Submerging yourself in the hot water, you focused on relaxing your body. You hated that you allowed him to have this effect on you. Stop giving him the power to do this to you, you thought. But you knew you wouldn’t listen. Sinking your head under the water, you appreciated the way everything became muted. With your eyes shut, it felt as though you had slipped into a void where nothing else existed. Then, with the remaining air in your lungs, you screamed into the water. You screamed until you had nothing left to project, your limbs relaxing as you lifted your upper body out of the tub, the water cascading off your hair, face and shoulders. Catching your breath, you stared down at the rippling on the surface of the water. Several minutes went by, your thoughts so heavy your mind nearly went blank. And then you realized that the few drops still falling into the tub below you were coming from your eyes.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, frustrated over your emotions. He wasn’t worth it. But the tears were for him. They always were.

After getting out of the tub, drying off, draining the water and getting dressed, you found yourself in your living room with your phone and a mug of steaming tea. Only this time, you weren’t scrolling through your conversation with your boyfriend. You weren’t revisiting the texts in an attempt to hurt yourself further, or to convince yourself that you weren’t crazy and that the pain really did exist in those messages. No, this time you were seeking comfort from the one person you knew you could always trust.

You: Hey I know your career is really taking off but what do you say about running away with me?

The response came only a few seconds later.

Taehyung: If you’re getting out of here, I’m coming with you. Obviously. You ok?

You smiled at the message. Sometimes you needed a reminder that you were lovable, and Taehyung was always willing to provide that reminder. You didn’t want to have to rely on Tae for this kind of stuff, he didn’t even know about the downsides of your relationship. But despite having a lot of great people in your life who you knew cared for you, you found that if the one person you’re supposed to trust the most, your lover, treats you like you’re disposable, you start to feel that way. And Taehyung tended to be the person who could bring you out of that feeling.

You: Yeah, just kind of feeling like starting over. You ever want to go back to a time before you encountered certain things or times in your life? Like it’s just crazy that your life could be totally different if you’d never had some of your experiences.

You were acting dramatic now. If you were so miserable, you could just leave your boyfriend. Dump him and move on. Why wasn’t it that simple for you? Taehyung’s response took a little longer than the last. Several minutes passed before the phone chimed from its spot on the blanket that was draped over your body.  

Taehyung: I get what you’re saying. It is crazy how every experience, every decision brings us to our present day. Like if I hadn’t auditioned for BigHit, I never would have ended up in Seoul. And then I would never have been able to choose to go out that day at that exact time to watch you drop your coffee on yourself like a dork. I would have never met you. So though I understand wanting to start over or make different decisions, have different experiences, I personally wouldn’t change anything. It all seemed to work out pretty well.

You read over the message several times, wanting to take in every word, burn it to memory. You only stopped reading when your vision on the screen became distorted through the tear that dropped to the center of the text bubble.

You: You’re very kind, Kim Taehyung. You also never would have ended up in BTS which maybe, JUST MAYBE, might POSSIBLY be bigger than meeting little old me.

Wiping your eyes, you sniffled before taking a drink of your tea. How could one person treat you like you were the world and another treat you like you were simply convenient? You knew that should say more about the person treating you like you were lesser but a hurt mind plays some mean tricks. It was way too easy to convince yourself that the person who treated you like you were enough was wearing rose colored glasses, refusing to see anything that made you lesser. The person who treated you poorly saw all of you and treated you accordingly. Right? Taehyung saw only the good, choosing to ignore the rest, while your boyfriend saw everything as a whole package. And maybe the bad outweighed the good.

The response came quickly this time.

Taehyung: That too, of course. But I consider meeting you my other once in a lifetime experience. It’s just as big as the BTS thing.

Feeling lighter than before, you managed to smile at the message. How you ever got so lucky to meet Taehyung, you’d never know. You’d be forever grateful. And you had to keep him in your life forevermore. You couldn’t let him slip away from you.

You: Interesting because I consider meeting you the most significant moment in my life. So ditto, Dearest. I’m ok, I promise. Thank you for providing the light for me tonight. I’m gonna get some sleep, you should too.

Taehyung: I provide the light for you, you provide it for me. It’s our thing. Sweet dreams, Peaches.

Six months in: a dark cloud.

Looking across the couch at him, you frowned as he looked down at the phone, giving all of his attention to what his friend was saying on the other end of his device. It was supposed to be a date night but he asked if you could keep it “low key” by just hanging out at your apartment instead. Wanting to see him under any conditions, you easily agreed. You didn't need dinner and a movie to spend time with him, you just wanted to be with him.

However, he was hardly engaged in being with you. Which was happening more and more often. When he shared something his friend just told him, you found yourself rolling your eyes. “Hmm,” you mumbled as you turned your attention to the television. He stopped speaking suddenly, his gaze lifting from his phone to find your angry face.

“What’s wrong with you?” The way he asked the question, accusatory rather than concerned or even simply curious, just added to the anger you felt.  

“I’m just kind of mad,” you shook your head. “Just give me a minute, I’ll get over it.”

“What are you mad about? Me?”

“Well. Yeah, you. We haven’t hung out in a week and then when I finally get some time with you you’re talking to someone else.”

“My buddy is just telling me something, I can’t just cut the conversation off,” he defended. “I’ll be done in a minute, then you can have all my attention if that’s what you want.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” you remarked bitterly. You had found yourself picking up the habit of starting fights, or more so leaning into them, because at least then you’d have his attention. Sometimes bad attention was still better than no attention.

“See? This is why I’m hesitant to come over and see you. You’re always pissed at me for not doing enough for you,” he complained.

“I’m not always pissed at you.”

“What the hell do you call this then?”

You really weren’t always mad. Sad? Disappointed? Now those had become more familiar feelings.

“I’ve been asking every day to see you, we finally hang out, you changed our date to a hang out at home and that’s fine, whatever, I just want to see you, but then you’re not even engaged. It’s like I might as well not even be here.”

“Jesus christ, fine, I’ll stop the conversation.” Locking his phone, he tossed it onto the coffee table carelessly, the thud of the heavy device against the wooden tabletop startling you. “What else do you want from me? I’m here, I’m present, now what?”

“Why are you acting like I’m asking so much of you? I just want to spend time with you, I’m your girlfriend, I thought you’d want to spend time with me too.” You hated how easily he worked up your emotions. Already you could feel tears stinging your eyes.

“I do want to spend time with you, I’m here am I not?”

Sighing, you nodded in feigned agreement. “Barely. But yeah, I guess,” you noted.

“Jesus christ,” he huffed.

“You avoided seeing me all week,” you quickly defended your feelings. “You even canceled our date on Sunday. And I thought, that’s fine, he’s just busy, he needs some alone time. But then you’ve been hanging out with your friends instead. And now you’re finally here and it’s like you fucking hate it.”

“You’re not the only person in my life,” he shook his head. “I love you, you know that, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend every last second with you.”

“I’m not asking for every second of your time, I’m just asking for some of it. I’m your girlfriend,” you reminded him. “It’s not that you have to choose me first all the time, but why don’t you want to?”

“What, like this is so pleasant?”

Scoffing, you felt the tears bubble against your bottom lash line. “It could have been.”

“You’re always so fucking gloomy or angry, you always have an issue. Sorry if I don’t want to be around that kind of attitude all the time,” he complained. How you got to the point where your attitude was the main topic of discussion, you weren’t sure. This was how fights always went with him. You would address your feelings and next thing you knew, you were forced into the position of defending yourself.

“I’m gloomy?”

“Yeah, it’s like there’s this little dark cloud hanging over you. You used to be so cheerful, like this little bright light running around. I don’t know where that person went but right now all of this is just- I’m sorry, but it’s a lot. I really do love you but sometimes I just need a break.”

“I’m sorry I bring you down so much. I didn’t know.” You didn’t know what else to say. You were shocked, and maybe he was right. Even you could feel yourself changing over the past weeks, and really months.

“That’s not what I was saying. See? Fuck, this is why I never bring this shit up to you, you take it on as this fatal flaw when I’m just venting and expressing myself,” he sighed.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” you spoke quietly, suddenly feeling very drained.

“Look, this obviously isn’t a good night for us, I think it would be best if I just head out,” he announced, your eyes lifting from the couch cushion to meet his impatient gaze. He looked so careless.

“Why do you always walk away like that?” You asked, almost pleadingly. “Can we just have a fight and find some resolution just once?”

“What do you want from me? If we keep going I’m just gonna say mean shit, is that what you want? You want me to get so pissed at you that I say something I regret?”

“You haven’t done that yet?”

“Fuck you,” he spat the words like venom.

“No, fuck you,” you threw it back at him, with less anger, however, your voice taking a more dejected tone than before.

“If you want attention so badly, why don’t you call up Taehyung? You two get along so fucking well.” You hated when he brought up your best friend during fights. With the mention of the boy’s name, you were hit with a boost of energy, ready to continue the fight you were so desperate to end just moments ago.

“Why are you bringing Tae up?” You asked. The man had always been a bit jealous of your best friend, which you could understand. It was obvious to everyone how close you and Taehyung were. But you had always been one hundred percent dedicated to your relationship, and never had Taehyung gotten in the way of that.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“He’s my best friend. You’re my boyfriend. I can have both. I can spend time with both of you, you spend tons of time with your friends. The difference between you and I is I’m not the one on my phone messaging my best friend all night when we’re supposed to be having time together as a couple.”

“Right, I’m always the bad guy.”

“No, I fuck up constantly, I’m always causing issues, I’m over-emotional and way too fucking needy, but I at least want to be here,” you countered.

“Well you’re right, I don’t want to be here right now. I’m leaving, I’m done with this.” He stood up right after the announcement, looking down at you from where he towered over you. “Seriously, do not stop me, I don’t want to say some shit that will really hurt you.” If he hadn’t been hurting you this whole time, what the fuck had he been doing? “You’re done with what? The conversation or the relationship?” You asked meekly, refusing to look up at him, instead fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“Why do you always do that?” He asked, his tone accusatory again. “You always assume I’m ending the relationship just because I’m pissed.”  

“Because you act like you don’t want to be in this relationship,” you told him, meeting his angry gaze.

“There we go with those fucking projections again.”

“Oh my god. I’m exhausted.”

Scoffing at you, he looked toward the door. “Can I leave then?”

“Do what you want,” you said dismissively, giving up.

And just like that, he left. And you sat on your couch, tired, emotionally drained, and overthinking every moment of the fight as you wondered what you could have done differently.

Three days later: a sorry excuse.

Your boyfriend’s apology came in the form of a text message. As it always did.

“I’m sorry, hun, I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry for everything. I’m such a fuck up and I know one of these days I’m going to ruin this shit but thank you for your patience with me. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me. I do want to be in this relationship, I want to be with you and spend time with you, there’s no place I’d rather be than with you.”

After waiting about thirty minutes to respond, you accepted the apology. Things would be good for a week or two before the next fight. You found yourself living for those periods of calm. They were fun, loving, everything you knew the relationship could be if you both could find common ground, let go of the animosity, and understand each other. You could be so great.

Eight months in: sensitive.

Playing video games with Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin was not always your favorite way to spend time with them. Games weren’t really your thing, despite the three boys loving them. However, since they did find so much joy in battling each other in various animated forms, you subjected yourself to the medium often.

Boredom always struck eventually, causing you to roll around on Jungkook’s bed trying to be a big enough nuisance to where they would pay you some attention. “Hey, did I ever tell you about my Resident Evil experience?” You asked, Jungkook finally glancing at you with a look of intrigue.

“What does that even mean?” He asked.

“I made myself cry playing it,” you giggled, all three boys turning to look at you for a moment as they tried to come up with reasons in their minds as to why you would have cried literal tears playing a video game.

“Ok, well first of all, video games are hard,” you started, Jungkook scoffing as Jimin giggled at you. “And in Resident Evil 4 there’s all those fucking zombies and they’re ruthless.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook chuckled.

“I was stuck in a corner and I could not get out and so many zombies swarmed around me and just brutally attacked me, I couldn’t even pull a damn weapon.” The boys all laughed, Jimin falling onto his side, crumbling in amusement. Seeing Jimin fall over in laughter always made you slip into a laughing fit as well as you pointed at him through your wheezing. The story wasn’t even that funny, and you all knew that, but they were picturing Leon Kennedy from Resident Evil 4 die a horrendous death as you sobbed over your game controller, and Jimin was on the floor, and soon the game they were in the middle of was paused as you all wheezed in response to one another.

“You’re so dumb,” Jungkook mumbled through his laughter. “That’s hilarious.”

And just like that, your laughter faded, being cut short by his word choice. You knew Jungkook didn’t mean anything by the word, but recently ‘dumb’ and all of its synonyms had become a trigger to you. Being told you were unintelligent hit deeper feelings of insufficiency. But yours and Jungkook’s dynamic was full of teasing banter, much like siblings. Insults were never really insults, but rather endearments cloaked in words that didn’t express the fond feelings behind them. Maybe that’s why Jungkook was the one to notice the way you flinched at his comment and shrunk back against his headboard while the other two boys struggled to catch their breath. Jungkook knew that’s not how you would usually respond. “Hey,” he called out to you. “You ok?”

“Hm? Yeah,” you nodded, your eyes bouncing to meet each boys’ as they sobered up and looked at you, serious expressions overtaking their previously joyful faces. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t actually mean you’re dumb, Peachy, you know that,” he told you. Nodding at him, you tried to avert everyone’s eyes. “Right? Like, you’re one of the smartest people I know,” Jungkook complimented. When you looked at him again, you found his expression full of guilt.

“No, I know Kookie, don’t worry,” you tried to assure him. He stared at you for a moment before giving you a single nod and redirecting his attention to the game in front of you. Clearing his throat, he nodded to Jimin to resume playing.

Taehyung’s gaze lingered on you, however. It wasn’t just this moment that sent him into high alert, it had been months of witnessing you crawl within yourself, hiding yourself more and more. Your sensitivity had been turned up, causing you to take everything to heart, always on the defensive, always ready to correct your actions to make them more tolerable. And he knew exactly who you were making yourself more acceptable for. Taehyung wasn’t naive and he wasn’t clueless, he knew there were things you were hiding about your relationship. But he didn’t want to pressure you into talking about it, afraid of pushing you further away, and further into the arms of someone who didn’t deserve you. He had to be smart about this, patient, but observant. As soon as an opening appeared, he would address the issue.

Ten months in: a ruined moment.

As soon as you and your boyfriend entered his bedroom, his arms were wrapped around your body in a back hug as he dragged you to his bed. You were all giggles while he pulled you onto the mattress with him, your body crashing with his. Within seconds he was hovering over you as he peppered kisses across your cheeks.

With your hands on his waist, you attempted to shove him over onto his back but he put his weight on you instead. Letting out a groan, he peered down at you.

“What? Are you comfortable, hun?”

“I can’t breathe,” you teased, shoving against him to no avail.

“Oh really? Why?” He smiled at you just before you burst into laughter. “You’re so cute, you know that?”

“Am I?”

“Very,” he whispered, just before placing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. And finally, he rolled off of you so he rested next to you on the bed. “What do you want to watch tonight?” Humming in thought, he rolled his eyes playfully. “Here we go, my indecisive girl.”

“Hey, there’s a lot of movies out there, it’s not easy narrowing them all down to one,” you defended with a pout.

“Fine, I’ll help,” he smirked, proud to fulfill the role of knight in shining armor in your movie dilemma. “What’s one of your favorites from childhood?”

“Ooh, The Wizard of Oz,” you told him without delay.

“Are you serious?” He asked, pulling a face of disgust.

Giggling from your spot next to him, you shoved him playfully. “What do you mean? I love that movie.”

“You’re actually serious?” He asked in genuine shock, your laughter slowly fading as your heart gradually dropped into your stomach. “No you don’t.”

“Yes I do,” you defended, wide eyed. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Since when?”

“Since always. I’ve told you that.” And you could have swore he had told you he loved it too.

He groaned and shook his head. “I don’t remember that.”

“Literally everyone likes The Wizard of Oz,” you smiled, trying to lighten the mood once more. Trying to stop him from diminishing another one of your interests as silly or dumb.

“Not everyone,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s so annoying, the songs are fucking excrutiating, the characters are frustrating, just everything about it sucks. I can’t believe you actually like it.”

“You’re literally in the minority here, it’s objectively a good film,” you defended once again.

“Sometimes the minority is right,” he shot you a cocky expression that felt like it was meant to belittle you.  

“It’s my comfort movie. I used to watch it as a kid when I felt lonely or sad and it would help cheer me up,” you said sadly. It was pathetic the way he could make you feel so small over such trivial matters such as favorite childhood movies.

“It’s so shit though,” he laughed.

“I don’t think it is.” You were getting angry now. It was one thing to disagree on the film, it was another to put the film down in such a way that it became a vehicle for a personal attack. “Why are you being so passionate about your dislike for it? It’s just a movie.”

“I can’t believe you like it. I mean to each their own but wow,” he scoffed, adjusting his shoulders against the headboard of his bed.

“It made me feel safe as a kid,” you whispered. “I was like four when I first saw it.”

“Just don’t ask me to watch it with you,” he chuckled, pinching your forearm teasingly. “I refuse to sit through that movie with you.”

“Ok,” you let out a sad small laugh, breathy and barely there. “I won’t. I don’t really want to hear about what shitty taste in movies I have anyway.”

“Why are you so upset? I don’t have to like every movie you like,” he lectured, as though you were a dumb kid and he was in a position of power over you.

“I know you don’t,” you said quietly, pathetically.

“I don’t want to hear about what shitty taste I have,” he mocked you. “I wasn’t saying you have shitty taste, that wasn’t my point. I just personally don’t get why that movie is considered good.”

“That’s fine, I don’t care if you like the movie.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“It’s just-” you sighed. You didn’t want to say what you were about to say. You knew it would lead to a fight that would result in several days of silence before you finally caved and apologized and he dropped it all. “You criticize my interests so much sometimes that it gets to the point where you make me feel like I’m stupid for liking it in the first place.”

“That’s not even true,” he defended.

“It’s not all the time but sometimes.”

“And you’re just now mentioning it?” He asked pointedly.

“It doesn’t matter,” you groaned. “Forget I said anything, seriously, I hate all of this.”

“No, don’t backtrack now. Say what you want to say,” he told you, his jaw tense as he stared at you with anger.

“God, fuck, I’m just saying that just like you don’t have to like everything I like, I’m also allowed to like things that you don’t. It doesn’t mean I’m dumb for it.”

“I never called you dumb,” he informed you. That was true. He didn’t call you dumb, or an idiot, or stupid, or any other word. He had simply made you feel dumb. Maybe that was on you and your own insecurities in your interests, in who you are as an individual. But shouldn’t you just be allowed to like something without it being ripped to shreds?

“I know.” That was all you said. Because how could you really blame him for making you feel a certain way? They were your feelings, after all. And you only had yourself to blame with this incessant need to impress him and gain his approval.

“Jesus christ, whatever, I’m over this,” he told you, sitting up and grabbing his phone off his bedside table. “I’m so sick of fighting with you. And if I can’t ever do anything right then maybe you should just end this with me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you started, only to be cut off by him placing an earbud in his ear, closing himself off from the conversation. Nodding you watched him for a moment. There was no point in pushing him to talk to you, it would just result in more anger and a longer make up period. Instead, you crawled off the bed, grabbed your bag and belongings, and left. Looking back at him before shutting his bedroom door, you found his eyes still glued to the phone screen, not worried in the least of your departure.

Eleven months in: putting you first.

Taehyung was sprawled out on your sofa and you were seated on the floor in front of it. As you shoved noodles into your mouth, your best friend was fully immersed in the film that was playing on your television.

“I think if I was alive when this originally came out the technicolor would have blown my mind,” Taehyung noted as you both watched Dorothy leave the sepia tone of her Kansas home and entered the vibrantly colorized land of Oz. “Like I think I would have lost my shit.”

Giggling, you nodded in agreement. “I remember seeing it as a kid and being blown away. And obviously I had seen several colorized films, like it wasn’t new. But there’s something special about this one.”

“I can’t believe I never saw this as a kid,” he casually said as he stared at the screen.

“I used to watch it as a kid when I was sad and it would make me feel better,” you admitted bashfully. “Which is stupid but it’s one of my favorite movies still because of it.”

“That’s not stupid at all, that’s so cute,” Taehyung cooed, nudging your shoulder with his knee.  “I officially love this movie. I wish I had been watching it as a kid too.”

“You do?” You asked with a smile, looking over your shoulder at him.

“It was a friend to you when you needed one. Of course I love it.” He flashed his boxy grin and your heart warmed inside your chest. “And it would have been cute if you were both watching this movie at the same time. Like a little connection before we met.”

Watching him thoughtfully, you appreciated how pure and kind he was. He was so good, and for no reason other than he chose to live that way in a world that could bring such cruelty. You were so certain in that moment that even before you knew Taehyhung, your soul was always waiting to meet him.

“We didn’t need the movie to be connected. There’s always been a string that runs between you and I, you told him. Taehyung’s eyes slowly trailed from the movie to meet your gaze.

“That string has been really long at times,” he frowned. It had been. There were so many times you could have used Taehyung’s friendship, but the connection between you was still too far apart. It felt like magic having him sitting there on the other end of your sofa after all this time. “I’m glad it finally shortened enough for me to reach out and pull you close.”

“Me too,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes. These fucking emotions. Lately, you were always on edge, always on the verge of tears. “I really missed you all those years.”

Looking back to the screen, you could feel Taehyung’s gentle gaze on you as he studied you. After a minute of no talking, you kept your eyes on the movie as you asked Tae a question that suddenly shot to the forefront of your mind. “What if you hated this movie?”

“What?” He asked in confusion.

“Like, say you hated this movie for whatever reason. And I liked it. What would your response to me liking it be?”

He thought for a moment, long enough for you to turn your head to peek at him. “Uh,” he chuckled lightly. “I think I would just, I don’t know, accept that you liked the movie and I didn’t. Like, it wouldn’t be an issue.” Nodding at him, you looked to the fibers of the couch cushion as you thought over his answer. “We’d still be watching it right now.”

Shooting your eyes back up to meet his, your mouth dropped open but no words came out for a few seconds. “We would?”

“Yeah,” he gave you a small smile. “This is your comfort movie, right? Look, I don’t know why and I promise I won’t pry because I know you don’t want to talk about it—though you could if you wanted to, I’m all ears—but I can tell you need some comfort. So yeah, even if I hated this movie, if I knew you were sad, I would probably put this movie on anyway.”

Pouting at him, you stared at him with your sad eyes. You hoped he could see how thankful you were for him and his care for you.

“Your love for this movie and the comfort it brings you is much more important than my fictional dislike for it,” he smiled. “Like would I even have a good reason to dislike it? Do I just not like the songs? Do I hate the color yellow? I just figure my reason would be pretty insignificant in comparison to the reasons you like it. So, yeah, we’d still be watching this right now even if I hated it.”

At this point in his explanation, you were simply giggling, and probably looking at him with an immense amount of affection that still didn’t come close to how much love you felt for him. “But I actually do like this movie. So it’s not an issue anyway,” he reminded you.

“You’re kind of the best person, you know that?” You said, cocking your head as you softly grinned at him.

“Watch the movie, Peaches,” he replied, brushing off your compliment. But he was the best. Without a doubt.

One year and three months in: the derailment.

Sitting quietly on your kitchen stool, you played with your takeout as your boyfriend sat next to you with his laptop open. He had hardly spoken to you all night. Which was fine, you didn’t mind the quiet. But you had hoped he would ask about the exam you had that afternoon. After the first hour passed, you held onto that hope. However, the second hour had come and gone and you had allowed yourself to believe he simply didn’t care about your test.

“What are you working on?” You asked him, glancing at the laptop.

His response was delayed as his eyes roamed over the screen. “Hm?” He asked, slowly turning his face to you.

Nodding at the computer, you asked again, “what are you working on?”

“Oh, I’m just going over a paper for a classmate,” he told you before turning his attention back to the document. “She was stressing out about it so I offered to take a look.”

Humming, you nodded slowly. “That was nice of you.”

“You know me, always a saint,” he joked, a smirk appearing on his face. You reciprocated with a smile as you draped your arm over his shoulders. Inching toward him, you placed your lips to the shell of his ear before trailing them to his cheek, kissing the defined bone. The touches were light, teasing, your lips ghosting over his skin as you traveled from spot to spot. As you went to press a kiss to his jaw, he pulled away from you slightly. “I’m not done yet,” he told you, his eyes still on the screen as he scrolled down on the document.

“Ok,” you whispered, trying to sport an unaffected expression as you sat back from him, putting distance between you once again. “That’s fine.” As much as you hated to admit it, it was a hit to your ego to have him so focused on an essay that wasn’t even his that he blew off your advances. “I’m still eating anyway,” you mumbled as you picked your utensil back up and poked at the food again.

Another moment of silence passed between you both, him showing no interest in starting conversation, and you being too nervous to do so. Conversation starters flashed through your head but you were too scared, too anxious to say any of them. One lingered on your tongue for several minutes before you took a deep breath and forced yourself to vocalize the comment.

“I had that stats exam today,” you spoke tentatively, your eyes glued to the food in front of you. You didn’t want to look at him as he blew the comment off with a hum. “That one I was really nervous about.”

“Right,” he said, his tone showing his disinterest.

“I think it went well, I didn’t feel completely clueless at least,” you continued. It was like talking to a wall, but at least it confirmed your earlier suspicions that he had simply not cared enough to remember you had the exam, nor did he care enough to hear how it went.

“Good,” he replied simply. It took everything in you to not scoff at the single syllable word. On your way to class, Taehyung had sent you an encouraging message telling you how much he believed in you, and when you got out of class another message came soon after asking how everything went. You weren’t trying to compare the two men, but it seemed to be happening more and more as the days passed. It was just hard to understand how one man could care so much and the other so little. And the one who couldn’t be bothered to care was the one who was supposed to be your partner.

“And after the exam I streaked through campus in celebration,” you told him, the man not even flinching as he hummed in response. Nodding once to yourself, you sealed the lid on your takeout and stood to put it in the refrigerator. The sudden and angry movement finally pulled his attention from the laptop as he watched you trudge across the kitchen before pulling the fridge open, tossing the food container in, and slamming the door shut.

“Ok, jesus christ, what?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest as he looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Seriously?” You asked, the man shrugging in response. “What did I even just say to you?”

“When?”

“Just now. What did I tell you about my day?”

“Fucking hell,” he rolled his eyes. “Honestly? I don’t know, because I’m busy, like I told you,” he uncrossed his arms to gesture at the laptop.

“I told you about my exam.” When he shrugged again, you finally released the scoff from earlier. “The stats one. The one I was freaking out about all week.”

Sighing, he raked a hand through his hair. “I can’t keep up with every little thing you have going on,” he told you, his eyes looking to the side of you. “I have my own shit to worry about too.”

“Yeah, I get it, you have random girls’ essays to edit,” you told him bitterly.

Chuckling dryly at you, he shook his head. “You’re so fucking immature,” he spoke through an exhale. “Like it’s actually amazing how you keep this moral high ground over me all the time while you act like this. It’s a talent.”

“What are you even talking about?” You asked, your eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

“You get all pissed at me because you’re crazy and insecure and jealous and then you act like I’m a shitty boyfriend because I forgot about some exam you took. Everyone’s taking exams, it’s a university.”

“What in the actual fuck?” You asked, your confusion only deepening as you tried to figure out how he made this leap. If it was a talent of yours to keep the moral high ground while acting “immature”, “crazy”, “insecure” and “jealous” then twisting words and throwing arguments off the rails was his talent.

“I’m sorry I gave a tiny bit of my attention to another girl, my bad. Here,” he slammed the laptop shut, “I’m all yours now. Happy?” The way he glared at you made you feel small, embarrassed, and as immature as he believed you to be.

“I wasn’t jealous over this girl, I was just upset that you hadn’t asked about the exam, and then you brushed me off when I tried to kiss you,” you explained timidly.

Scoffing at you, he smiled cruelly. “So that’s why you’re acting like this? Because I wouldn’t drop everything to have sex with you?”

“What?” You were shocked, and you were sure it was written across your face. He thought this was about sex?

“I knew when you gave it up on the third date that you were going to be a lot to handle but fuck,” he shook his head. The words hit you like a knife to the chest, stealing the air and sending a sharp pain into your heart. “I don’t want to have sex with you at every minute of the day, sometimes I have other things to do.”

“Are you calling me a slut?” You asked, winded and wounded. The reason you had tried to initiate some intimacy moments before was to feel close to him. It was a fact of your relationship that sex seemed to be the best way to connect with him, especially these days.

“I’m not calling you a slut, don’t do that, don’t put words in my mouth,” he told you angrily. “And I’m not saying your needs are a bad thing. It’s just, you can’t be pissed at me if I turn down your advances. You’re seriously insatiable.”

“Ok,” you let out a small humorless chuckle. Tears were pricking your eyes as you evaded meeting his gaze. “Well don’t worry because I won’t make any advances anymore.”

Sighing dramatically, he dropped his head to the table as though he were exhausted. “Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, I was just-”

“Do you even love me?” You asked bluntly, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere. However, knowing your thought process, the question was a completely understandable one. Someone who loves you shouldn’t treat you as though you’re insane for wanting them to care about the events that occur in your life such as major exams, and they surely don’t slut shame you. If you were being honest with yourself, the question had been floating around your mind for months. You didn’t feel loved.

He slowly lifted his head from the table, shooting a glare at you. “What?” He asked, offense flashing across his features. “What kind of question is that?”

“Do you love me?” You asked again.

“Why the hell are you asking that? That’s so stupid,” he dismissed, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest once again.

“It’s not stupid to me,” you defended.

“Well it should be, because that’s so fucking dumb,” he scoffed and smiled humorlessly.

“Just tell me you love me.”

“No,” he shook his head, his expression angry.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s stupid, you know how I feel.”

“No I don’t,” you raised your voice and spoke through the tiniest of humorless, disbelieving laughs. “I have no idea how you actually feel.” The man didn’t respond, instead choosing to glare at you. “Do you love me?” You asked again through tears, your voice breaking.

“This is so fucking stupid,” he said again, enunciating each word as he became angrier.

“It isn’t to me,” you yelled as tears slid down your cheeks.

“Well it is to me,” he yelled back, standing up from his seat.

“Why won’t you just say it?” You asked, your voice as small as you felt.

“You’re suffocating,” he spat at you.  

“What?”

“The way you’re always having me come over here, kissing me, doting on me like I’m some fucking child,” he listed off. You had no idea where all of this was coming from but the more he spoke the more you felt ill, the words settling in your abdomen in the heaviest most unsettling way.

“I-” you stuttered in surprise. Wiping the tears off your face, you looked to the side of the room. “I just love you.”

“Well, the way you love is suffocating,” he responded immediately.

“This is exactly why I don’t feel loved by you,” you spoke quietly, the words tumbling from your mouth in a mumble.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, annoyed, tired, and mad.

“I’m serious, how could you say this shit to me if you actually loved me?” You asked, shaking your head as you tried to hold back more tears but unable to as they raced down your face.

“You just drive me fucking insane, it has nothing to do with loving you,” he yelled. “Stop say stupid shit like that.”

“Then tell me this, do you even like me?” Your voice raised in pitch as you asked the question, desperate for some sort of affection from the man. Some sort of reassurance.

“Jesus christ, I’m so done with this, stop being so annoying, this is why you’re suffocating. You’re always needing assurance, you’re always needing more of me, you’re always just needing. Give me a break,” he ranted, shoving himself away from the counter.

Worn and beaten down, exhausted and crushed, you stared at him for a moment as he breathed heavily, shaking his head at you. Nodding slowly at him, you sniffled before giving him a feelingless smile of acceptance. Turning your back on him, you started toward your bedroom. It wasn’t until you went inside the room and shut the door behind you that you heard him rustling around your kitchen. Moments later you heard the front door open and slam shut.

And there you were again, left alone as you waited to feel his love again.  

One year and five months in: reassurance.

Movie night with Taehyung was by far one of your favorite ways to spend an evening. Being with him gave you a sense of comfort that you’d never really experienced with anyone else before. Not to mention, things were always peaceful with Taehyung. Even in the chaos of your personalities combined, there was always a feeling of harmony when it was just you and him.

After your week, full of exam stress and tension in your romantic relationship, you were dying to spend time with Tae and just be at peace for a few hours.

However, Taehyung was late. By fifteen minutes. Which wouldn’t be such a big deal if it weren’t for the conflict in other areas of your life building up and causing you to feel insecure in your importance. Was he late because he got caught up? Or was he late because he forgot about movie night? Maybe, though you knew it was less likely, he was late because he simply didn’t want to hang out with you.

Just as you checked your phone to check the time, a text message popped up from Taehyung.

Taehyung: Sorry! I’m running late, I’ll be leaving the dorms within the next 10 minutes.

Any other time you would have brushed it off, but you were too in your feelings, pitying yourself, convincing yourself you weren’t as important to others as they were to you. And those feelings blasted through your fingertips as you typed your hasty response to your best friend.

You: You couldn’t have told me earlier that you were running late? What are you even doing?

You know Taehyung got done working earlier that afternoon, which only made his tardiness hurt more. He had to be preoccupied with someone else. His message came quickly.

Taehyung: I’m sorry, I should have texted. Jimin started a game up and I was just finishing the round. That’s a shitty excuse, I feel bad.

Video games? You scoffed looking at your phone. Honestly, you’d had enough carelessness from your boyfriend, you didn’t need it from your best friend too. You were hesitant to text him back, not wanting your anger to get the best of your judgment. But you were so upset and discouraged in that moment, and you wanted someone to understand the way they made you feel. Before you could figure out what to say, Taehyung sent another text.

Taehyung: I’m on my way now.

You didn’t want any favors. Spending time with people who didn’t act enthusiastic to be there only made you feel like a burden. Acting dismissive was your conclusion.

You: Don’t even bother, enjoy your games. I’m going to bed.

You could practically hear his disappointed sigh through the phone screen as the three dots appeared in the text bubble, indicating Taehyung was already responding. He wouldn’t be disappointed in you but rather himself, and you knew that because he was Taehyung. He was a sweetheart.

Taehyung: I’m coming over. Even if I have to apologize through the door, I’m going to say sorry.

Staring at the message, you tried to discern how you were feeling. You weren’t sure how to react to someone showing such insistence in setting things right with you. Unsure of how to respond, you opted not to. Instead, you waited on the couch for his arrival.

It didn’t take him too long to get to your apartment, his knocks on your door popping the bubble of insecurity and frustration you had locked yourself in. Despite your earlier stubbornness, you easily found yourself opening the door for him, your eyes immediately meeting his regretful ones.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized sincerely.

“It doesn’t matter,” you told him, heading further into your apartment, leaving him to welcome himself inside. You heard the door shut before his steps followed you.

“It does matter,” he told you, “it’s ok to be pissed at me, just don’t play down your own feelings.”

What? You froze in your spot as you tried to comprehend his words. He wasn’t defending himself, but instead he was assuring you that it’s ok to feel the way you do. Literally, what?

Turning to look at him, you cocked your head. “Ok, fine, I’m mad.”

“Ok, that’s understandable,” he nodded. “And I’m sorry for making you angry.”

“But it’s more than that,” you told him. “I’m sad.” You watched as his gaze hardened, not in anger but in concentration. As though he was studying you. “I don’t want to feel like I’m forcing you to be here.”

“You’re not forcing me to be here, Peaches, I love our movie nights,” he quickly told you.

“But can you see how it doesn’t feel that way?”

He nodded sincerely. “Yeah, I can see that. I’m sorry I made you feel as though I don’t want to be here. I promise you, I want to be here, I’ve been thinking about tonight all week.” He spoke so earnestly and openly, you really had no choice but to take him for his word.

“I need to feel that, Tae,” you told him in a whisper. “I want to feel like a priority sometimes.”

That same focused gaze searched your features as he stepped closer. “The last thing I ever want is to make you feel like you’re not important or like you’re not a priority in my life, because you are. You’re so important to me,” he told you, just before reaching for your hand.

Looking into his eyes, you found yourself nodding slowly. “I know that. I just think I needed to feel it tonight.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or make you doubt yourself,” he frowned. He was beating himself up, you could see the internal lashing in his eyes.

“It’s ok,” you forced a small smile. It really was ok, but you weren’t yet ready to move on from it. You were on the cusp of sharing feelings you’d been holding in for months, hell, a year, and you didn’t want to swallow it again.

Lucky for you, Taehyung could read you better than anyone. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He knew this was bigger than him. And you both knew he had an idea of who this was all really about.

“I don’t know,” you replied, trying to conceal your anxieties through a shaky exhale.

“Peaches,” he looked into your eyes. His orbs were attentive, like he was peering into your mind trying to pull out your vulnerabilities. “What’s wrong?” Shaking your head, you chewed on your lip to hide the way it trembled. Your emotions were bubbling. “Talk to me.”

“I think I just need some reassurance,” you admitted before scoffing at yourself. “That’s so stupid.” “Why is that stupid? That’s not stupid, that’s completely understandable, what kind of reassurance do you need?” He asked, only waiting a couple seconds before pouring out his sincerity to you. “I love you, I care about you, you’re my best friend and I’m so thankful for you. I love you. When I’m not with you, I want to be with you. And when I’m with you, I’m happy.”

As tears slid down your cheeks, his words causing a leak in the dam that held back your hidden emotions, Taehyung gave you a soft smile. Bringing his hand up to your face, he carefully wiped under your eyes with his thumbs before placing his palm to your cheek and sliding his hand so it sat at the back of your head. Pulling you against him, he hugged you against his chest, your body instantly relaxing against him. “You’re so much better than you give yourself credit for. Of course I want to spend time with you,” he whispered into your hair. “And I’m sorry for hurting you tonight. I’ll be more mindful.”

“Thank you, Tae,” you mumbled against his t-shirt. It was so simple, it almost didn’t feel complete. But it was, the issue was resolved and you felt calm and at peace in his presence once again.  “It’s ok.” We’re ok.

One year and five months in: a moment of honesty.

In bed is where you and your boyfriend often found yourselves after fights, channeling all the anger, frustration, and sadness into something that wouldn’t solve your issues, but sure felt a hell of a lot better than facing your troubles.

Breathless, you stared up at the ceiling, your boyfriend reaching between you both to take your hand in his. “Are we ok?” He asked, breaking the silence that had enveloped you both.

Sighing, you thought for a moment. “I’m really tired of fighting with you.” The statement didn’t answer his question, because these days, you really didn’t know how to answer that. Rarely were you two ok, and the sex didn’t change that.

“I know,” he whispered. It was moments like these where you found yourself empathizing with him. It was in these moments where it seemed as though he truly felt guilt and regret for all the bad times. Rarely did he take responsibility, but you knew he felt responsible, and he wore it like a burden.

“It’s seriously exhausting getting that angry,” you let out a single breathy laugh.

“I like when you yell. It feels passionate. It’s sexy.” Turning to look at him, you found him smirking at you. Rolling your eyes, he chuckled.  

“Is it passion? Or are we just bad for each other?” You asked, your tone more somber as you thought over your own words. It wasn’t really a question that needed to be answered. You both knew.

“Maybe both,” he hummed. Turning onto his side so his body was open toward you, his eyes traveled over your face before lowering to the bed sheets. “I love you though,” he spoke, his voice slightly muffled from the pillow he rested his head on, his eyes still looking over the flowery patterns on the sheet.

“I love you too,” you whispered back to him before facing the ceiling once again.

“Yeah?” He asked. Then his lips found your shoulder, the man kissing it lightly. “Why?” You couldn’t quite tell if he was teasing or if this was an insecurity showing through, as though he was asking what there was to love about him. As though he wasn’t sure himself.

Turning toward him, you cuddled against his frame, his arms wrapping over your body as you kissed his chest. “I just do.”

One year and six months in: the composure cracks.

Outings such as this one always made you a bit nervous. You wished your best friend and boyfriend could just get along without the undertones of dislike and distrust. Taehyung usually kept his nose out of your relationship, keeping his comments on the union and your boyfriend to a minimum. You could tell he wasn’t particularly fond of the man, but he was able to respect your boundaries well enough that his animosity rarely showed through. Your boyfriend, however, was more open with his ill feelings toward Taehyung. He didn’t fully trust Tae. He thought you and your best friend were too close, and jealousy often seeped through.

You could understand jealousy, so you did your best to assure your boyfriend that you were his girlfriend, not Taehyung’s. But you’d found there was only so much you could do to silence his insecurities.

This night was different, however. Perhaps it was the presence of a buffer in the form of your good friend, Jimin, but your boyfriend and Tae seemed to be working harder than in the past at maintaining a level of cordiality. They were speaking rather friendly about some video game you really had no idea about, but they seemed chummy, and that was enough for you.

“You know, I always thought it would be cool to be a game creator but it just seemed so far-fetched that I never really looked into it,” your boyfriend shook his head as he took a drink of his beer. “Would be fun though,” he hummed over the rim of the bottle.

“Whoah, that would be awesome,” Taehyung animatedly agreed, his eyes widened with enthusiasm. “Why wouldn’t you pursue it?”

“It’s just not realistic,” your boyfriend shrugged.

“Sure it is,” you told him gently. “You could do anything you wanted.” You truly believed that, too. He was determined, creative, never stopped until he got what he wanted. Giving you a smirk, he nodded, placing his hand on your thigh.

“Of course you’d say that,” he told you. Maybe you were always expecting the worse from him at that point, but you swore his smile took on a condescending appearance.

“Why? I’m just telling the truth, you could literally do anything.”

“You always wear those rose-colored glasses though, hun.” He looked from you to Taehyung who was watching the interaction scrutinizingly. “It’s kind of like this one’s dreams,” he nudged you as he spoke to Tae. “Like it’s nice to think about but the reality is just, well, you know.” It took you a moment to realize that his elbow nudging against your arm when he said this one meant he was referring to you. Heart pounding against your chest, you looked to him in shock.

The surprise didn’t come because the conversation about dreams and their lack of reality was new to you both—it absolutely wasn’t. But rather, the shock came because he was entering these waters in front of your best friends, who you had never really shared any of the troubled aspects of your relationship with.

“Wait, what?” Tae asked in confusion, looking to you to see the tension in your features. “What about her dreams?”

“Are you serious right now?” You interjected, directing the comment at your boyfriend. His eyes widened in question, as if to innocently ask what? “We don’t really need to involve my friends in our fights,” you mumbled quietly, trying to keep the words out of reach from your friends. As soon as the word fights left your lips, however, you flinched, noticing the way Taehyung’s posture straightened. You knew his curiosity and worry had been piqued with the single syllable.

“Fights?” Taehyung questioned, eyebrows pulled together in focused scrutiny. Jimin was becoming visibly awkward next to him.

You locked your eyes on Tae’s, silently pleading him to backtrack. You did not want this to escalate into anything, and you didn’t want him to know your boyfriend had spoken negatively about your dreams before. You weren’t necessarily hiding the downsides of the relationship from Tae, it was just, well, humiliating sometimes. You were supposed to be strong and independent. That’s how he saw you. It would hurt too much if he discovered you in a different light and didn’t like what he found.

Tae looked away from you and stared at your boyfriend, determined to get him to continue. “What fights?” he directed to your boyfriend. Fuck.

“It was only one fight,” your boyfriend looked at you, correcting you for your use of the plural noun. “Look, she’s your best friend so give me some insight here.” Gawking at him in further shock, you couldn’t believe your boyfriend was actually divulging details of a previous argument to Taehyung. “You know how she has all those little dreams for her future?” Taehyung stared at your boyfriend with daggers. You didn’t often see Taehyung angry. But he was fuming in that moment. “What if i became a writer? What if I was able to make money off of my photography? Maybe I should try 3d art, that would be a cool profession,” your boyfriend repeated your random musings. You truly didn’t believe he meant to mock you, but he used that condescending tone that triggered you to look down at the table as you leaned away from him. It’s just how he speaks sometimes, you reminded yourself. A few beers in, he always acted a bit more harsh. “She was talking about how she should start this little side business where she could do photography and try to make some money off of it.”

“Yeah, she told me about that,” Taehyung interjected, his eyes shifting to you, studying your features. Taehyung had told you it was a great idea. Even suggested you start with taking family photos, portraits, so on, to build up your portfolio and then maybe you could start trying to sell your more artistic visions to different publications. Maybe even open your own gallery in the future.

“Right, ok so you know. All I said was that I didn’t think it was a good idea because she should be focusing on her studies. She’s already so,” he hummed, thinking of the word. A slew of synonyms for stupid flew through your mind in anticipation. “Well, she has trouble focusing, you know what I mean?” Well, that’s kinder than dumb or airheaded. “I just said that a side job that didn’t have anything to do with her future would only distract her from what matters. And I’m right,” he directed to you. He did soften his tone slightly, but it still hurt. And it was mortifying to hear him shoot down your aspirations in front of your friends. In that moment, you realized he was divulging details of your conflicts as a couple because he really did think he was right. He was expecting Taehyung to back him up in putting down your aspirations as pipe dreams because your boyfriend truly didn’t believe you had it in you to make an actual career out of your dreams.

“It does have to do with her future though,” Taehyung defended you, his voice cold as he leaned closer to the table.

“Ok, sure, but I’m dealing in terms of reality here,” your boyfriend let out a single chuckle.

“So am I. I know all about reality, I live in it,” Taehyung pointed out. Jimin was uncomfortable next to him, but he looked angry as well as he glared at your boyfriend.

“Hardly,” your boyfriend smiled and chuckled. You could tell he was getting angry but he was determined to keep his cool, charming indifference. “No offense, man—to either of you— but you’re idols. That’s hardly reality.” Jimin’s eyebrows raised challengingly as Taehyung’s narrowed further.

“But this is our reality. We are idols, that’s our real life,” Taehyung defended. “Our dreams happened for us and I am not nearly as driven as she is. So, why wouldn’t it be realistic for her to pursue photography? Or whatever else she wants to?” It made you uncomfortable to sit there as they spoke about you. You hated the diminishment of your dreams, but you also didn’t love that Taehyung felt the need to stick up for you, though you did appreciate it. You just hated feeling weak, and with Taehyung you usually felt strong. And you also knew this would only fuel your boyfriend’s jealousy and distrust.

“You got struck with a bunch of luck. That doesn’t happen to everyone,” your boyfriend noted. And suddenly Taehyung’s desire to defend you made sense, because you found yourself stepping into the conversation to swing for him.

“I wouldn’t say it’s luck, they’ve both worked their asses off to get where they are,” you defended the boys, your boyfriend lightly scoffing before turning to look at you.

“I’m not downplaying anything he’s accomplished, hun, don’t worry.” The way he failed to include Jimin in his comment sent an anxious dread coursing through your body, settling in your stomach. “I’m just saying, it takes some luck.”

“No you’re right,” Taehyung nodded. “I did get lucky. I didn’t even really have a goal to become a singer, I didn’t really have many dreams at all. Because, well, I didn’t think dreaming was realistic for me. But then this happened, so maybe I should have dreamed a little bigger for myself, don’t you think? What I’m saying is,” and then he turned to you, completely tuning your boyfriend out and focusing only on you. “You actually have aspirations. You’re full of creativity and you want to use it. And you’re driven, and talented, and smart, and you’re so good.” The word good was spoken as though it was a catchall for the words he lacked to describe you. As though there weren’t enough words in his vocabulary, or in any human language to express how brilliant you were. “If there’s one person in this world who is deserving of being hit with a stroke of luck, it’s you. And you have what it takes to back it up.”

Staring at Tae, you felt tears prick your eyes. You were speechless, and you knew your boyfriend was watching you in anger and insecurity and you just couldn’t bring yourself to care because once again you were stunned by the amount of love and care Taehyung offered to you.

The table was silent, and you really didn’t know how much time had passed before your boyfriend cleared his throat.

“Sure,” he spoke in a monotone. Reluctantly you pulled your eyes from Taehyung and found your boyfriend nodding as he stared at your best friend across the table. “Start a photography business. Of course you can do it.” Slowly, he turned to face you and gave you a small, tense smile. “You’re incredible,” he said quietly, just before leaning in and pressing his lips to your temple.

You didn’t mean to flinch away from his touch. And the movement really was barely there, but Jimin picked up on it immediately as he coughed awkwardly. And so did your boyfriend, his hand sliding off your thigh as he straightened his posture and looked toward the bar. “I’m gonna get another drink, anyone want anything?” You and Taehyung shook your heads as Jimin gave him an unfriendly but polite, “no thanks.”

When your boyfriend left the table, Taehyung’s eyes shot to you, anger apparent in his gaze. “Don’t,” you warned him, not wanting to receive a lecture.

“Peaches,” he started. Tears started gathering in your eyes, and like a knight in shining armor, Jimin grabbed your hand and nodded to the small dance floor.

“Come on, let me teach you some stuff,” he flashed his pretty smile. Clenching your jaw to conceal your emotions that were frustration, sadness, and gratitude for Jimin in that very moment, you gave him a tight smile of approval.

The dance floor wasn’t very full, but was busy enough that you could only see your table in glimpses. Taehyung sat alone, glaring at the drink sitting in front of him. “Hey,” Jimin dipped his head in your eye line. “Forget about both of them right now.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded to him. And then you started laughing, because, “what the fuck?” You spoke in disbelief.

“I know,” Jimin smiled gently at you. Lifting his arm in the air, he gestured for you to twirl under it. “Come on, we’re dancing,” he reminded you. Giggling you followed his lead, allowing him to spin you, dip you, sway you, losing yourself in the moment with the sweet smiley man.

Taehyung nearly jumped when a man stepped into his vision, blocking his already obstructed view of you, other dancers constantly stepping in his way. The man sat down across from him at the table and sighed.

“I appreciate you encouraging her to dream. And I know she appreciates your support,” the man started, Taehyung studying him carefully as he tried to gauge where the conversation was headed. Looking at him in his cool charming demeanor, Taehyung could see just how he had fooled you into believing he was worthy of you. It was understandable why you had fallen in love with him. He appeared to be the full package. “But I just think she needs to stay grounded and focus on the now. Which is school, studying, getting her degree so that she can have a stable job. Then she can dream all she wants, once she’s set up.”

“Why are you so certain she’ll fail if she chases her dreams?” Taehyung asked, his anger bubbling. He didn’t like how your boyfriend spoke as though you needed his direction, like he knew what was best for you, and you were some clueless kid who needed guidance.

“Because I’m realistic.” Taehyung’s jaw clenched. He was furious. Of course Taehyung understood the need for more realistic plans, but you were on your way to securing that plan. But shouldn’t the degree be the backup plan in case your aspirations didn’t pan out? Why should you have to push your dreams aside for what someone else deemed as realistic?

“Or maybe you’re just a cynic,” Taehyung snapped.

“Maybe so,” the man smirked. “But like I said, not everyone is as lucky as you. And I think it’s really short sighted and naive to boost her full of this confidence where she can do anything when in reality, she can’t.”

Taehyung scoffed, a smile forming on his lips out of pure anger and disbelief.

“What’s funny?” Your boyfriend asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” Taehyung responded. “Nothing is funny about stifling her dreams.” The person most filled with light, Taehyung thought to himself.

“Again, I’m just being realistic.”

“You can’t control her. And you should be encouraging her,” Taehyung told him coldly.

“I’m not trying to control her, Taehyung. I don’t know what your opinion of me is, but I’m not trying to stifle her or keep her locked away from some fairytale future you both seem to see. I’m trying to bring her back to earth. If you loosen the reigns too much on her imagination, she’ll lose herself in her fantasies. She already lives with her head in the clouds.”

“They’re not your reigns to hold. It’s not your job to steer her, or to halt her, or to keep her head down. She’s her own person, and despite what you may think, she has a good head on her shoulders. She knows what she wants, knows what she’s capable of, knows when to bring herself back to earth,” Taehyung explained before scoffing. “Actually, she’s probably too planted in reality for what she’s capable of. She’s a rational person. As her partner, you should be encouraging her to keep her head in the clouds. It’s one of the best things about her. She can keep her own feet here on the ground.” Taehyung was winded by the time he got done speaking

The man stared at Taehyung with a look of scrutiny and anger. “How dreamy of you,” he finally spoke, mocking Taehyung with a condescending laugh. “You have one thing right, pal, I am her chosen partner.”

“You know, Taehyung’s only trying to help,” Jimin told you as he swayed you to the slow groovy beat playing throughout the bar.

“I know,” you assured him. “I just- I don’t know, that whole thing made me feel really weak and pathetic.”

“No one thinks you’re weak,” Jimin told you, pausing dancing to look you in your eyes. “Or pathetic. At least, not me and definitely not Tae.”

“Thanks, Chim,” you gave him a small smile.

“How often does stuff like that happen?” He then asked, your heart pounding at the question.

“What stuff?”

Jimin waited for a moment, seeing if you’d cave on your feigned naivety. When you simply stared back, he sighed. “How often does he put you down like that?”

Your mouth dropped open but no words came out, unsure of what to even say. He would know if you lied, but how could you admit that your relationship was made up of moments like tonight. Luckily, but not lucky at all, your eyes found Tae and your boyfriend sitting together, Taehyung’s brows furrowed and furious as he appeared to rant to your boyfriend. “Shit.”

Jimin quickly followed your gaze, finding the two men, worry coursing through him as well. “Fuck,” was all he said before leading you back to the table.

When you arrived at the table, both men looked at you and Jimin, both angry, but both silent as they pretended like nothing had taken place between them. Then, your boyfriend smiled at you, reaching out to take your hand in his.

“Have fun dancing?” He asked. But your eyes were on Taehyung who glared at the drink in front of him, his fingers gripping the glass. It looked as though if he glared at the drink long enough, it would burn a hole in the table, and then the floor below your boyfriend, and the man’s existence would drop into the fiery pits of hell where Taehyung believed he belonged.  

“Everything ok?” You asked, Taehyung finally looking up to you. He gave you a weak smile and your heart broke. What happened?

“Everything’s great. Just Peachy. That’s what you like to call her, right?” Your boyfriend answered for Taehyung before looking at the man with a smile. “Your friend here should be a poet, by the way. Great with words.”  

You were struck with the urge to defend Taehyung, despite not knowing what for. Despite knowing it would only cause even more issues between you and your boyfriend later. Before you could say anything however, your boyfriend brought the back of your hand to his lips. “I think I’m gonna head out, hun. Some of the boys are down the street, I figured I’d drop in and hang for a bit. You wanna come with? I can call you a cab.”

The fact that he was retreating to his friends, knowing you wouldn’t go with him, was a bad sign. A fight was surely going to come, but in the moment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Taehyung was upset, and the last place you wanted to be was with the person who caused it.

“No, I’m good here,” you told him.

Your boyfriend simply nodded, giving you a strained smile. “Of course,” he mumbled through a humorless chuckle. “Well, I think that’s been enough fun for me tonight,” he announced to the two boys. “Great seeing you both, as always.” With that, he stood up in front of where you were still standing.

Wrapping his arm around your lower back, he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that felt like you both were performing some sort of act in which neither of you were upset. Where you were in love, you were happy to be together, you’d miss each other when he left. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he whispered near your ear as he was leaving.

“Yeah. Get home safe,” you told him.

“See you guys,” he directed to Taehyung and Jimin.

“Yup,” Taehyung said, staring at the table top as Jimin stayed silent. You watched as your boyfriend left and exited the bar, waiting for the door to shut behind him before looking back at Taehyung. He was staring in front of him at nothing in particular, his eyes full of anger and hurt. You watched him carefully as Jimin awkwardly assessed you both. No one spoke a word until Jimin stood up from his spot.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Maybe get another drink on my way back, either of you want anything?”

Taehyung shook his head and you forced a small smile at Jimin. “I’m good, thanks.”

As soon as Jimin left, Taehyung’s eyes darted to you.

“Peaches.”

“Tae, don’t,” you protested immediately.  

“What the fuck was that?”

“It was nothing, he’s just being realistic. And he’s not always like that.” The truth was, the way your boyfriend spoke about you made you feel sick but you didn’t want Tae to worry. And you didn’t want Tae to see you in a negative way.

“Don’t lie for him,” he sighed.

You weren’t lying for him. You were lying for you. How fucking embarassing it was to be this weak girl putting up with some asshole in front of the person whose opinion of you mattered most. Taehyung saw so much light and love within you, strength and purpose, individuality and a strong sense of self. But what if you weren’t that? You never wanted to shatter the illusion.

“I’m not.”

“No one should be allowed to treat you that way.”

“Taehyung, it’s none of your business.”

“Maybe not but he just brought me into it so, sorry, but now it is my business,” he told you angrily. But the anger wasn’t directed at you. “Why do you lie for him?”

“I’m not lying for him.” You whisper-shouted. “You think I enjoy sitting here and defending his behavior? I fucking hate it, I hate myself for doing it, but it’s embarrassing. I don’t want you to see me this way.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he took in your words. “In what way?” When you didn’t answer, he sighed, his expression momentarily softening as his gentle eyes remained on you. “I want to see you in every way.”

“No you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I want. I have always wanted you, as you are. Not how you think I should see you, not some idea of you, I want you. You are my best friend, and you’re too good for what the fuck just happened tonight. No one deserves that, especially not you,” he ranted passionately.

Staring at him, you tried to think of what to say. His eyes were so stern, but they held so much affection for you. And you knew he was right. If you had found out Taehyung was seeing someone who treated you the way your boyfriend did, you’d be fuming. You’d be stepping in, you’d be telling the person off, you’d be doing whatever it took for Tae to see he deserved better.

“I don’t know how I got here,” you whispered. And you could see Taehyung’s heartbreak as his eyes assessed the pain you’d been in. “I should be stronger than this.”

“You are strong,” he insisted. “And it has nothing to do with how strong you are anyway. But you deserve better. And I know what’s going on now. So sorry, but I’m not minding my own business anymore.” You knew that was true. There was no way Taehyung was ever letting this go, and he’d only learn more about the dysfunctions of your relationship from here on.

“I don’t think I want to leave him.” Maybe you did. It felt so complicated.

The man couldn’t stop the sigh before it slipped from his lips. “I want you happy. And I want you to be treated well. I can’t make you leave him but just know, all of that was not ok. And I’ll keep pointing that out,” he told you sternly. He was trying so hard to be gentle but he was so angry, so hurt. It was written all over his features. His heart was aching for you.  

“He’s not always like that,” you pointed out again. It was true, he had his good moments. But did that matter? Did the frequency of the behavior matter if he was slowly killing your self love and confidence over the course of your relationship? You couldn’t talk to Tae about that, though. Not if you planned to stay in the relationship with your boyfriend. So you emphasized it again. “He’s good to me. Just, no one’s perfect.”

Taehyung promised himself then and there that he would show you how you deserved to be treated, so much so, that you wouldn’t be able to accept anything less ever again. He knew it would be a process, but he would make sure you no longer accepted less than what you deserved. And in Taehyung’s eyes, you deserved everything good. You deserved the best.  

Two days later: the reminder.

You had been avoiding your boyfriend since the fiasco that took place at the bar. A fight was surely on the horizon and you couldn’t bring yourself to face it yet. Not when you didn’t do anything wrong. And you didn’t want to be alone with Taehyung quite yet, not wanting to have to answer questions about your relationship.

To keep your mind off both Heart Eyes and Taehyung, you had decided to visit someone who was completely removed from the situation, who wouldn’t even know to ask about what had happened or where you were going from here.

Sitting on the man’s couch, you watched as he worked on a beat, his posture hunched in a way that looked as though his shoulders had to be burning uncomfortably.

“Yoongles, I’m bored,” you whined playfully, the man ignoring you as he continued to click across the screen. “Yoongles,” you called again.

“You should get a hobby or something,” he mumbled, still facing the screen.

“This is my hobby,” you smiled teasingly.

“Lucky me,” he muttered.

“Exactly,” you agreed with a single exaggerated nod. “Do you want to get some lunch or something? I feel like you need a break and I’m starving.”

“I’m working still,” he reminded you. There was a lightness in his tone, however, that told you he was at least somewhat enjoying your presence. Or at least you hoped. Maybe he wished you’d leave him alone.

“Yeah but you need food. Two options, show me the song you’re working on or we go and get food,” you told him with a bratty smile.

“You’re so annoying,” he shook his head lightly as he turned around in his swivel chair to look at you. “Third option, you leave me alone and I work in peace.”

Staring at the man for a moment, you waited for him to crack a smile but his expression remained neutral. Nodding slowly at him, you awkwardly grabbed your phone off the couch cushion before reaching for your bag on the table and stood. “Alright, I guess I’ll fuck off. Have fun working, jerk.”

“Whoah, what the fuck?” He asked, immediately standing as you hurried to the door of his studio. As you opened the door and made your hasty escape, you heard him call your name.

Moments later as you hurried down the hallway past the other members’ studios, you heard Yoongi’s door open. “Peachy Keen,” he called out to you. “Hey, stop, where are you going?”

Turning around to look at him, you shrugged pathetically as you bit back your tears. You would not cry in front of Min fucking Yoongi, how humiliating. “I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted.”

“I wasn’t being serious, I-” he stuttered, the man frozen in place as he stared at you in worry and concern. “This is what we do, we banter, we tease each other, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he explained.

“I know, I just-” you cut yourself off as a tear slid down your cheek. He was right, it was your dynamic.

“Can you come back in here please?” He asked you, nodding to his studio. “I don’t actually want you to leave.” Sighing, you looked to the studio, back to Yoongi, down the hallway, and then at Yoongi again.

“I feel stupid,” you pouted lamely.

“Come on,” he gestured for you to follow him as he started toward his door. Reluctantly, you made your way back to his studio where he stood holding the door open for you. As you passed by him, he gently grabbed your wrist. “It’s ok,” he assured you. “You don’t need to feel any type of way.”

Giving him a tight smile, you made your way back to his couch and waited for him to sit back in his chair. You expected him to simply brush it all off and return to work, however, you were taken aback when he instead scooted the chair closer to the sofa, his eyes on your hands that you held against your knees, your fingers nervously tapping on your knee caps.

“Ok, so what’s going on?” He asked bluntly. Meeting each other’s eyes for a moment, you shook your head in an effort to play clueless. “No, seriously, what is going on? You’ve never once been so on edge and visibly upset in the whole, what, two years that I’ve known you?”

The way he stared at you pulled the tears right from your eyes. “It’s nothing,” you shakily spoke through a budding sob that you could feel in your throat. When the man called your name, the sob escaped through your lips, your head falling to your knees. Yoongi allowed you some time to compose yourself, and when you looked up you found him staring at you in deep concern, his teeth chewing on his lip in worry. “I think my relationship is really toxic,” you sniffled. “Well, it is really toxic.”

“What happened?” He asked, his concern growing even more.

“He’s not physically abusive so don’t worry,” you interjected quickly in an effort to relieve his anxiety.

“Well good, but that’s not all I’m worried about. Does he treat you badly?”

“I just don’t even know if he loves me,” you shook your head. “Or even likes me. Like, I have to beg for a bit of affection and he always seems so burdened by me.” Yoongi was silent as you spoke, allowing you the space to share freely. “The fights started pretty early on but they’ve gotten colder and more severe. A few months ago he slut shamed me,” you chuckled humorlessly. Yoongi’s face became angry and tense, confusion flashing across his eyes. “And he’s just, I don’t know, it’s like he’s always finding ways to put me down. And a couple nights ago we hung out with Tae and Jimin and he put down my dreams in front of them and Tae kind of lost it and they were having this passive aggressive fight and-” You were cut off by your own tears as they cascaded down your cheeks. “I’ve never been so full of shame in my life, I feel so embarrassed to be me and I don’t know how I let this shit go on for so long.”

“You have to get out of this relationship,” Yoongi told you, bluntly once again. “This is not healthy, you don’t deserve to feel this way. Do you realize that he’s emotionally abusive? Do you see that?”

“Abuse sounds so extreme,” you responded, attempting to refute the claim.

“Is this not extreme? Look at you,” he told you softly. “This is not you, you cannot let him tear you down even more. This has been going on for over a year and a half.”

“He wasn’t like this at the start,” you defended your relationship.

“That doesn’t matter anymore, it doesn��t matter when it started or how long it’s been going on, it’s not ok,” Yoongi explained to you. “He’s obviously shredded your sense of self and he makes you feel like shit. And, sorry, but he doesn’t love you in the way you want him to love you.”

“But I love him,” you cried.

“No, you love the idea you have of him, you love the potential you see in him. The person he actually is is a piece of shit. How he treats you now is the real him, that’s who he is, and it’s enough. You need to be done.” Yoongi was blunt as he spoke. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was being insensitive. But the thing was, Yoongi cared. A lot. And Yoongi sitting you down and telling you everything so upfront was exactly the wake up call you needed. You loved your boyfriend’s potential. And he simply didn’t love you enough to even try to reach that potential.

“Fuck,” you shook your head. It all hit you at once. Just how unhappy you were in the relationship, how miserable you’d been for over a year, all crashed down on you as you realized you didn’t want any part of it anymore. You were tired, your self-esteem was non-existent, and you just wanted to feel ok again. “How did I get myself into this?”

“You can analyze all of that later, your focus now needs to be getting yourself out of it. You don’t deserve this,” Yoongi told you, leaning against the back of his chair. “I’m serious, you’re done. Or else I’m gonna get involved.”

The comment was both intimidating as hell and adorably sweet. Holding back a smile as you wiped away a tear, only to be replaced more, you nodded. “Ok Bad Boy Suga, I’ll handle it,” you sniffled.

Chuckling as he shook his head, he sucked air through his teeth in mild amusement. “Promise?”

Could you make that promise? “Yes,” you assured him, and also yourself. The thought of ending the relationship was far from a new one. With the push and reassurance from your friend, and from Taehyung last night, you knew it was the only real solution. Yoongi nodded at you once before scooting his chair back to his desk, but he remained facing you. “If I need your help, I’ll let you know,” you teased, though you both knew if you did need him, he would be there. The man simply nodded again in response.

“You are annoying, by the way,” he smiled at you. “Don’t change that for anyone. Some of us kind of like you the way you are.”

Giggling through your tears, you nodded at the man. “Thanks, Yoongles.”

“And your laugh is kind of great so stop giving your time to people who make you feel sad,” he added quickly before turning back to the computer monitor.

Your shock that came in response to the comment was soon replaced by the urge to mess with the man. “Wait, excuse me, what was that?” You asked teasingly.

“I didn’t say anything,” he mumbled as he clicked the mouse on random areas on the screen.

“Just one more time, I didn’t quite hear,” you continued pestering the man, only for him to shake his head. “Something about my laugh being great? Spectacular even, I’m pretty sure I heard the words, your laugh is the greatest laugh I’ve ever heard, it’s one of the great wonders of the wor-.”

“Get out,” he mumbled, though you could see the way his shoulders shook in laughter. Giggling at yourself and Yoongi, you burned the reminder he gave you to memory: This isn’t love. You deserve better.

Moments later, the man turned around to look at you once more. “What do you want for lunch? I’ll order in.”

The next day: the end of the road.

You had been fighting for an hour already. Your boyfriend’s pride was hurt when Taehyung stuck up for you, and especially when you stuck up for Taehyung. Comments like “That was humiliating, do you enjoy making me feel like shit in front of your friends?” and “You make me look like the bad guy.” and “How is it my fault you’re both naive?” had been thrown at you up until you told him this wasn’t working.

“All we do is fight, all we do is make each other feel like shit, what are we even doing anymore?” You asked him, beyond tired of the constant battle.

Staring at you, he tried to discern your words. “So what, are you done? You want to break up? Wanna quit on the past year and a half? And then what? Run into Taehyung’s arms?”

“This isn’t about Taehyung,” you groaned out of frustration. This was about how he had been treating you throughout your relationship.

“Isn’t it always about Taehyung?”

“No,” you yelled, “it’s about us. It’s always been about me and you.”

“Bullshit,” he shook his head and smiled. “God, the way he was acting like your protector,” he chuckled humorlessly. “He’s in love with you, you know that?”

“No he’s not,” you groaned. “But he does care about me, is that so hard to believe?”

“Yeah. It is,” he told you bluntly. “You’re just too dense to notice that he and his little buddies have crushes on you because you love the attention too much. It’s like you need these connections with people to feel whole because you’re so fucking unsatisfied with yourself.”

“Do you not hear how mean that is when it’s leaving your mouth?” You asked him, tears gathering on your lash line.

“Maybe it’s mean but it’s true, I’m just being honest with you. Someone needs to be because your fucking friends never will be.”

“I really can’t do this anymore,” you spoke out loud, mostly to yourself, as you realized once again just how much you had reached your limit.

“Do what? Stop being so dramatic,” he sighed. “You’re the one who keeps taking me back after all these fights, after all these supposed wrongs I’ve committed. I’m the one who leaves and you’re the one who takes me back. So,” he shrugged. “I must not actually be that bad since you’re staying in the relationship. Or maybe you just really do need me.”

“I don’t even know who I am anymore, I have never been this pathetic in my life and the more time I spend with you, the weaker and stupider I get,” you snapped. “And you don’t even like me anymore, I just- I can’t keep doing the constant fighting, I can’t keep being cut down, I’m not strong enough for this.”

“How is it my fault that you don’t know who you are? Are you saying it’s my problem? I made you pathetic?” The way he looked at you as though you were insane made you feel insane. “I’ve tried to make you happy, but nothing I have ever done has been enough, I can’t be this perfect boyfriend that you seem to want.”

“I’ve never asked you to be perfect, all I’ve ever wanted from you was your love. I just wanted you to give a fuck,” you defended yourself. Maybe you had asked for too much, but he also gave as little as he possibly could.

“Give a fuck about what?”

“Me, us, this relationship,” you listed incredulously, as though it should be obvious.

“And what about me? Have you ever even asked if I feel loved by you? It’s always your needs aren’t being met, you don’t feel loved, you’re sad because I don’t care enough, but I have needs too, it’s not all about you all the time.”

“Have you felt loved by me?” You asked, curious, and surprised. Had it been possible that you had been self-centered throughout the whole relationship?

“I don’t know,” he gave a small shrug.

“Have you genuinely felt a lack of love from me? Like I’m seriously asking.” He had never indicated feeling this way before. When he dismissively shook his head as an expression of disinterest settled into his features, you nearly scoffed.

“I’m just saying, it’s not all about you, you can be so selfish,” he told you.

“Did you just pretend to feel unloved by me to put me in my place and get the upper hand here?” You accused.

“I’m just showing you how it feels to be criticized for not caring or loving enough,” he said dismissively.

“I’m sorry if I haven’t loved you right, and I’m so fucking sorry if you didn’t feel loved by me in this relationship, but I have run myself into the ground trying to love you enough, and I have tried to change every single thing about me that you don’t like to try to gain your approval and now I’m left not even recognizing myself, and I’m still not enough for you. So maybe you’re actually right, maybe I haven’t loved you right, but at least I’ve tried. You can’t say the same.” By the time you finished your rant, you were winded and angry, hot tears stinging your eyes.

“Oh, I can’t say the same?”

“No, fuck no,” you spat.

“You’re right, I’m a shitty person, and you deserve so much better,” he said sarcastically.

“No, you’re not a shitty person, you just don’t give a damn about me, and I can’t make you care. I’ve tried so hard to give you everything and there’s nothing left of me to give.”

The man stood across the living room from you, staring at you, indiscernible emotion on his face.

“I know I’ve asked a lot of you, I know I always asked for more, I know I needed you too much and I’m too emotional but it’s like I’ve felt you grow to dislike me more and more with every month that goes by,” you told him. “And I’ve been trying so hard to get back to where we started but I just can’t anymore.”

“What does that even mean?” He asked, shrugging at you as he shook his head.

“It’s like all the things you liked about me at the start you hate now,” you told him. “Me appearing cold when I meet people was sexy when we first started dating, now it’s bitchy and awkward. You used to say how much you loved how close I was with my friends, now you think I rely on other people too much for connection to fill my emptiness. And you used to love how much of a dreamer I was, calling me an inspiration to you, and now I’m just dumb and naive and unrealistic,” you ranted. “I’m even a slut now when at first you liked how sexual I am. Everything you liked at the start is your ammo to put me down now.”

As you both glared at each other, you realized that this really was it. You couldn’t do this anymore, and you didn’t want to. The epiphany was bittersweet. You really loved him. A piece of you still did. And then he put the final nail in the coffin, burying the past one and half years once and for all.

“Maybe I just didn't know who you were at the start of our relationship. If I had known this is who you’d turn out to be, I wouldn’t have ever gotten into this,” he told you coldly.

You tried not to take the words too personally. He was angry, he knew this was ending, he was aiming to hurt you. Don’t give him validity. “Right, well, sorry to be a disappointment,” you nodded to him. “I’m done, we’re done, get the fuck out.”

“Gladly,” he gave a hard smile. “Don’t call me back here this time.” Staring at him, you watched as he started toward your door. A part of you ached for him to come back and apologize, return to the man he was back in your biology lab when you first met him. A bigger part of you hoped to never see him again. “You know what,” he suddenly turned around and looked at you. “You think you’re so important, and you’re not. You’ve gotta get over yourself if you ever want a relationship to work out.”

You simply stared at the man, waiting for him to finish and leave.

“And by the way, if you’re expecting to run off with Taehyung, you’re a fucking joke,” he laughed bitterly. “He may think he loves you, but so did I. As soon as he gets to know who you really are he’ll grow to dislike you too. Just like every person will. Look at me,” he held his arms out as if to show himself off. “This, our relationship, that’s your future, hun. History will keep repeating itself with new faces because you don’t actually deserve better than this. I did love you. But you’re so hard to love. You’ll never be satisfied. And you’ll chase away anyone who gets close.”

With a final nod of his head, he turned to the door and opened it. “Loving you hurts,” he spoke over his shoulder. And then he exited the apartment.

The words hurt in the moment, crushing the last of your heart that had remained intact. In the sudden silence of your apartment, you felt alone and regretful, despite knowing you would be better off without him. You’d move on, you’d grow, you’d heal. However, you didn’t know at that exact moment just how much his words would follow you.

Two months later: the realization; the secret.

When Taehyung handed you the piece of toast, strawberry jam spread across the top, you smiled at him appreciatively.

“I can’t cook much but I promise I’ll always give you my best pieces of toast,” he flashed his boxy beam. Inspecting the toast, you shook your head at how he had taken the burnt piece for himself, giving you the lightly toasted slice.

“No one could ever deserve you,” you giggled, watching as he took a bite of the slightly charred bread.

“That’s not true,” he looked at you seriously for a moment. “We’re tied by a thread, remember?”

Sighing, you took a bite of the toast, humming in approval. “This is amazing, you should make toast for a living.”

Lifting his piece up to you, he frowned. “I’m not sure I’d keep my job for very long.”

“My dad likes burnt toast,” you shrugged. “You just gotta find your audience.” The man giggled as he took another bite of his late night snack. “Also being tied by a thread doesn’t mean I’m as good as you, it just means we were meant to find each other. You’re clearly my better half.”

“Not true, stop lying,” he spoke through a mouthful of food. “First of all, you’re already whole on your own, we just complement each other. And second, it means we’re as equally good as each other and that’s why we belong together.” He said the words so casually, as though they weren’t incredibly sweet and beautiful.

It was such a nonchalant statement of friendship, mumbled through a massive bite of toast. The night was so simple and typical for the two of you. And the feeling hit you so suddenly, so strongly. Perhaps it was exactly the comfort and familiarity of the moment, the man, that sent the rush of warmth shooting from your heart and spreading throughout every inch of your body, settling within you as though you had found your home.

And then a wave of panic pulsed through your frame. Staring into his caring eyes, appreciating his smile that took over his entire face, lighting the man up in the most gorgeous way, you realized that you could fall in love with him. In fact, you were sure you would.

With that realization came the most intense fear you’d ever felt, because you weren’t capable of loving Taehyung. You’d hurt him, you’d ask for too much, you’d drive him insane until he grew to resent you. And then you’d lose him.

You could not let yourself love Taehyung in that way. You couldn’t lose him. No one could deserve him, and especially not you. He couldn’t know how you felt. This was your secret to bury.

[theficblog]

CONCERN

MARK LEE

Prologue: When you start with your period in public, your clueless boyfriend Mark can't help but freak out.

Genre: Fluff 

Wordcount: 925

Prompt: "It’s blood, not nuclear waste. Chill out."

Warnings: Menstruation

It was the late morning of a bright, sunny Tuesday. The sky was blue, as if it had been crayoned by some little kid of five. The fluffy, airy, and white clouds hung in the sky, as if they were intentionally hung up with threads. The Sun marked its presence too, but decided to be a bit gentle on humankind. The scenario probably fitted well in the Windows Wallpaper category.

This day was perfect for the Summer Fest. The ground was lively, full of chit-chat and cheers. There were a plethora of stalls, selling everything ranging from brownies to physics books. Banners filled with all possible colours of the rainbow adorned the place. Bubbles that some of the middle school kids blew were drifting aimlessly. To your right was a busking team, covering classic summer songs, and to your left was your boyfriend, Mark, also humming the same songs.

"This just can’t be summer love~" He continued to murmur as his eyes wandered around, his fingers intervened with yours. He seemed to be chill yet fascinated by everything. He occasionally greeted some people with smiles. Everyone at the school knew him. He had always been a member of clubs and councils.

Mark was social, and he was awkwardly social. He never missed a chance to give high-fives to little kids from primary school. He wasn't averse to approaching strangers and striking up a conversation.

"Yo! I wonder how do they like actually make it? Do they sew it or what?" He voiced pointing to a stall of handmade rugs. "No but I guess they just, make it?" You answered with intellect, making him burst into laughter. His laugh was contagious, ever so gleeful.

"Alright, I’ll go and get us some ice-cream." You announced as you began moving to the front. "I’ll get Cookies and Cream." Mark reverted back.

Just when you had barely taken four steps or more, you heard your name being called, or rather yelled-to put it in a better way.

"Yo! Y/N!" Mark screamed at an unbearable pitch, forcing you to turn around. What was going on?

He paced towards you. Only if he was that much of a pacer, he’d make into the school athletics team. Grabbing you by the arm, he pulled you towards a corner. He made you stand with your back to the wall, while he positioned himself in front of you. You were astonished to say the least.

"You-you’re BLEEDING?!" He exclaimed. Panic had taken over his face, his eyebrows were furrowed. His shining black eyes were ready to pop out and his mouth was left hanging open. "Are you alright? Why are you bleeding?" He persisted in his interrogation.

On the inside, you questioned your decision to opt for white denims today. It had now become a habit for your menstrual cycle to commence at any point of time it felt like. You were at a constant war with your uterus. You recalled the last time you almost fainted due to the unbearable, excruciating pain. Menstruation could sometimes be such a bitch.

Mark, on the other hand, still stood the same. He was sweating, and it was certainly not because of the summer heat. He held his phone in his hands, constantly taking glances at it and then at you. He was visibly worried.

"Y/N let’s go the doctor. What the hell is happening?!"Although it was not ethically correct, seeing him in this state made you want to chuckle. He was afraid that you would die from a massive blood loss.

"Calm down, okay! Calm down! We got this!" He suggested you calm down with sheer anxiety taking over his own voice. Ironic.

"It’s blood, not nuclear waste. Chill out." You reassured him, breaking your silence before he dialed 911, taking his hands in yours and softly caressing them with your thumbs. "Easy, Marky, It’s just a period" You explained.

He appeared to be more at ease. "Have you been skipping your Biology lessons?" You questioned him with a giggle. Mark was embarrassed, not due to the fact that you started bleeding in public, but because he thought he had made a fool of himself. His ears were now red, like fresh tomatoes plucked off of a farm.

"Is that a normal amount though?" He joked. An evident blush took over his cheeks, as his Bambi like eyes curved into crescents.

"Hang on." He implied. His hands reached the collards of his plaid, red full sleeved shirt, which he put on un-buttoned over a simple white tee, despite the weather.

He was likely to remove it and assist you in masking the scarlet blood stain that glinted through your white slacks. It was thoughtful of him. You grinned to yourself as you pondered it.

"Mark, No! I can just change." You remarked this while pointing to the black straps of your bag-pack slung over your shoulder. It was always a wise move to carry an extra pair of clothes, just in case.

"Ahh, yeah, that-that’s a better option." He nodded.

Just as you came out of the washroom, changed into another pair of pants, that absolutely hid all the evidence of the crime scene, you saw Mark, standing with two ice cream cones in his hands, struggling to keep his eyes open in the sun that was now scorching and the gentle wind that flew past his brown locks, covering his forehead.

"Nutty Belgian Dark Chocolate, just the way you like it."

If anything was sweeter than that ice cream at the moment, it was Mark.

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[itsallyscorner]

hey. can u do part 2 to the’ Being a High School Student on A Marvel Set’? :)

💌

Period Buddies

Pairing: platonic!Sebastian Stan x teen!reader, platonic!Anthony Mackie x teen!reader

Summary: I’m currently on my period so I wrote this to help me cope:) Basically Anthony and Seb being the biggest and supportive guys to you during your period:)

Warnings: Umm not much, some mentions of blood and periods.

Hello my love!💞 Thank you for the request! I was actually planning on making another ‘High School student’ fic with the Marvel cast, so I decided to use that idea for this request! I hope you like it🥰 Also sorry I haven’t uploaded a fic in a while; I was lacking motivation to write and school was pretty hectic😭 Thank you for your patience my loves x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

fluturaș - little butterfly

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

You were laid out along your couch in your trailer, a fluffy Sherpa blanket wrapped around you and your head resting atop two soft pillows. You were laid on your stomach, the pressure of the couch slightly helping with the stinging pain in your lower abdomen. Your geography teacher was teaching via Zoom, though your laptop was on the coffee table that was inches away from you; knowing you weren’t feeling your best, you’ve decided to stay on the couch for school and moved the table closer to the couch so everything was within your reach. You had been lazily taking notes—or attempting to with the remaining energy you could muster up.

You had been surprised by the devil himself when you woke up earlier today at around six in the morning. You knew your monthly was coming; with the constant cravings, body aches, and the newly developed pimple gracing your face, your period was around the corner. And you were right, a dark red stain was splotched onto your white floral bedsheets when you woke up today. What a way to start the morning.

Yes, no woman ever felt their best during their period. You were always bloated, hungry, and blood was constantly flowing out of you, yet you were still expected to show up to both work and school. Not to mention, the pain you were currently enduring was making it really difficult for you to to focus on anything. Your teacher’s voice seemed to fade into the background as your body was blinded with the stabbing pain in your lower abdomen. You may have been overreacting, but everything just hurt.

Geography was your midway class, meaning that you were halfway through your school day. Which also meant that you were soon to be called to set. You had a lunch break and some time to do your homework, but either way you still had to get to set. Usually you’d be antsy to get the school day over with, practically buzzing to get to get into your costume and do some stunts with your two favorite guys on set. Although today was different, the thought of heading to set and being active felt dreadful. You just wanted to curl up into a ball, snuggle into your Sherpa blanket, and take a well deserved nap.

Your teacher’s voice was interrupted by a knock on your door. Already knowing who it was, you let out a faint “come in” to the two men outside your trailer. A second passes before your trailer’s door slowly opens and Anthony’s head pops from behind it. His sparkling yet dark brown eyes and toothy grin etched onto his friendly features. Sebastian pops up behind him, an equally wide smile on his face as he wiggled a white take away box in the air.

“What’s up buttercup.” They cheerfully greet you.

Though both of the men’s smiles drop once they see you bundled up on the couch. Anthony fully enters your trailer, Sebastian following suit. Approaching your little set up, Anthony glances at your laptop.

“Isn’t your camera on? Did your teacher allow you to attend school like this?” He asks you. He knew you were a responsible kid and had no troubles keeping up with your education. But that’s the thing, you were still a kid. Having kids of his own, he knew how unmotivated children can get in the middle of the school year and the laziness that came along with it. Seeing you lounging on the couch while your teacher was lecturing was just a bit concerning for him.

You stiffly nod, “My camera’s off. I just don’t feel good.”

The last sentence catches both of the grown men’s attention. Sebastian rounds the corner of the coffee table and hovers over you, observing your face. He softly places the back of his hand onto your forehead, checking for any alarming warmth.

“You’re a bit warm, but it’s probably because of the blanket.” He mutters, choosing to sit on the arm rest of the couch. “You alright, fluturaș?” He looks down at you in concern, lips tilting down into a small frown.

Anthony had settled beside your feet, one of his arms using your ankles as an arm rest. Strangely enough his arm brought you comfort instead of adding to the ache in your legs.

“I’m just—I’m on my period.” You mumbled in response. You wait for the awkward tension to build but it never came. You glance at the two men and see the realization settle in them.

“And I have really bad cramps at the moment, that it’s just hard to do anything. So I decided to stay on the couch today.” You explain with a slight shrug. They didn’t understand the pain you were going through, but they understood what you meant. While the both of them had female friends and what not, they were somewhat aware of what you were going through.

Anthony claps his hands to his thighs, “Alright, it’s ok to give yourself some rest. You just relax and listen to whatever your teacher’s going on about.” He motions to your laptop and continues, “Is there anything we can do to help you?”

While taking down notes, you momentarily glance at them, “No it’s fine, you guys already brought me food. Thanks, by the way.”

They didn’t want to leave you alone, you were clearly not feeling well and they both wanted to do something. They couldn’t do anything about the pain from your menstrual cycle, but they can help distract you from the pain.

“No, we’re gonna help you. Have you eaten ever since breakfast? I’ll spoon feed you if I have to.” Sebastian insists. You thought he was joking, but when you looked at his face he was serious.

“I had a brownie—wait, aren’t you guys supposed to be filming?” You question the both of them.

“Something went wrong on set so now we have a few hours or something till they figure it out.” Anthony answers, scrolling through his phone. He abruptly stands up to his feet and heads towards the door. You and Seb send him a questioning look.

“I’ll be back.” With that he pulls your door open and jogs out, leaving you and Sebastian in your trailer. You decide to tune back into your class, resuming to take down notes from the slides your teacher shared. Suddenly, a large hand gets in the way of your notebook.

“Gimme that.” Sebastian takes the pencil and notebook from you, placing them on his lap and staring at your screen. His eyes scan the PowerPoint, looking for the part you left off on. He hums when he finds it and began to write the notes himself.

“What are you doing?” You raise a brow at him, scanning his appearance. He was dressed in Bucky’s clothes, minus the black and gold ‘metal’ arm. He was still sat on the arm rest, slightly slouching so he could bend down to use his lap as a table.

“I’m doing your notes for you.” He answers nonchalantly. He motions to the white take away box on your coffee table, “Eat your lunch, I got this.”

You hesitate to sit up, feeling bad that Sebastian was doing your notes. Though, he did insist on doing it and you weren’t feeling your best. After an internal argument with yourself, you decided to let it slide and let Sebastian do your notes. Besides, he looked like he was enjoying taking notes on agriculture regions and the different types of farming.

“Are you sure, Seb?” You ask him again, slowly sitting up on the couch. He responds with a distracted ‘mhm’, his eyes focused on your notebook and his tongue sticking out in concentration. You quietly thank him and get up to use the bathroom.

While you were gone doing your business, Anthony had entered your trailer again. This time he had a plate full of brownies, a medium sized cup of ice cream from the vending machine, and one of those red hot water bottles in his arms.

“Where’s the kid?” He balances the things in his arms while carefully placing the plate of brownies onto your coffee table. Anthony locates your mini fridge and stores the ice cream in the freezer.

“Bathroom.” Sebastian acknowledged, still focused on writing the notes correctly in your notebook. He made sure to write neatly and copy the way you organized your notes. Saving you the hassle of missing out on important parts of the lesson and from decoding his personally sloppy writing.

Anthony empties his pockets to reveal more of your favorite snacks from crafties and the vending machine. “So...what are you doing?”

“I’m in geography class.” Anthony snorts at his friend before taking a look at your laptop screen, “And what are y’all learning in geography class?”

“Pastoral nomadism.” Seb bluntly answers. With his arms now free of the items he brought, Anthony decided to tidy up your couch. He folded your blanket neatly, fluffed your pillows, and made space for Seb to actually sit on the couch.

“What the hell is pastoral nomadism?” Anthony thought out loud.

“It’s when people travel from place to place with domesticated animals. It’s usually practiced in dry land climates.” Sebastian explains, eyes never faltering from the screen or your notebook. Anthony let’s out a sound of approval at Seb’s explanation. When he was done cleaning up your couch, he took the white take away box and headed to your kitchen. Emptying the contents of the container onto one of your plates, heating the food up for you.

You walk into the kitchen section of your trailer, shutting the bathroom door behind you. A delicious aroma lingers in the air, your nose picks up on the smell, sending it straight to your stomach. In response, your stomach lets out a low growl, making Anthony snicker at you.

“I’m heating up the food.” Anthony mentions as you pass by him. You thank him with a small smile as he gently nudges his shoulder against yours.

“Want me to make tea or something? I heard it helps reduce the cramps.” You raise a brow at him amusingly, “Where’d you hear that?”

“I read it on Google. You know, research, gotta make sure our girl’s comfortable.” He proudly tells you. Your heart warms at the fact that both him and Seb were willingly helping you while you were in pain. The microwave dings catching both yours and Anthony’s attention.

As he gingerly takes the plate out he asks you, “You wanna eat at the table or the couch.”

“The couch, I still wanna listen in on the lesson.” For a moment you forgot that you were supposed to still be at school, taking notes, and listening to your teacher teach the lesson. You enter the living room and sit next to Seb, who’s hand was digging into your pencil case.

“Want me to take over?”

“Nah, I got it, I’m too invested to stop. Which one?” He held up three of your highlighters, one was light blue, another was a peachy pink, and the other was a typical yellow highlighter. You grin, picking the peachy pink one. He tosses the other two back into your pencil case and uncaps the highlighter. While your teacher wraps up class, he began to highlight the new terms from today’s class.

“Here ya go.” Anthony sang; grabbing a pillow, placing it onto your lap, and carefully setting the plate of chicken teriyaki fried rice on top of it. You happily thank him and began to dig in. He slumps onto the couch beside you, “Tell me if you need anything else. I’ve got ice cream in the freezer, brownies, a hot water bottle, and a whole box of tea.” He throws his arm around your shoulder, letting it rest against the back of the couch.

You pause your eating, pouting at the two men beside you, “You guys really don’t have to do this. But I appreciate it so much, thank you.”

Seb looks at you over his shoulder, sending you a sweet smile, “Anything to make you happy, fluturaș.”

Anthony squeezes your shoulder, “Anytime munchkin, starting today till you’re not a ketchup packet anymore, Seb and I’ll be your period buddies.”

You snort shaking your head at him, “Again, I appreciate it Ant, but please don’t call yourselves period buddies.”

“What’s wrong with period buddies? You’re on your period and we’re all a bunch of buddies. It makes perfect sense!” Anthony reasoned defensively. Seb looks at the both of you over his shoulder again, “I like period buddies.”

“See! Thank you.” You playfully rolled your eyes at the two. “Fine, period buddies it is.”

Your geography teacher wraps the lesson up and ends the Zoom call. Seb shuts your notebook and puts it to the side. Clapping his hands, he asks you, “Alright, what class do we have next?”

“Calculus.” You smirk, followed by the groans of Anthony and Sebastian filling your trailer.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[milliedazzledust]

Somewhere Only We Know (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @the-craziestone story about Bucky x Reader, where Bucky is really obsessed with Reader - But not in a creepy way, more like he's really really in love with her and he can only see her, like she's his world Anon: can you do something with reader gifting Bucky Barnes the 3 Lord of the Rings books? They were published after WWII, and reader knows he liked The Hobbit so she thinks it's something he'd like

Words: 2943

A/N: this is pure fluff with no warning, also I changed a tiny bit the second request to fit the story - enjoy ;)

He couldn’t explain the sadness he constantly felt every time he was walking through the streets of the city he used to know by heart. A stranger in a strange land was the best way to describe him. More than seventy years had passed, and he hadn’t witnessed any changes. While he had been a puppet deprived of freewill and controlled with the sole purpose of killing, he had missed the birth of a whole new world. Now, as he strode around the streets, he could easily remember each of their names, but none of them were familiar. His mind remained in the 1940’s and in the middle of the noises, surrounded by the sound of first responders vehicles, the children running around and cars piling up on the road, he was a stranger in his own home. It was an unsettling feeling, a pining melancholy that reminded him in every step he made that his Brooklyn didn’t exist anymore. 

He was furious in a way, but mostly confused. Haunted by memories he had gotten back a second ago, and they didn’t fit this new reality. He wasn’t even nostalgic, but the loneliness was getting heavier every day. He could still picture the park he used to take his sister, the alley where Steve had gotten beaten up one day, the bakery his mother used to go to every morning. Treasure of souvenirs he would keep forever. And although the park, the alley and the streets names were still here, he was left alone walking down Brooklyn. 

“Hey, Y/N!” He heard a voice shouting. “Where do I put those ?” 

His head mechanically turned to a young boy carrying a heavy box of what looked like antics. Without thinking he crossed the road and when his eyes laid on the small shop, he gasped. There it was, one small piece of his past still here. It was an old bookstore he used to go to with his sister. The man, a friend, an immigrant from France with a thick accent, would let them stay for hours. Bucky loved reading to Rebecca. They would sit inside and she’d insist to hear The Hobbit. François, the man owning the store, would make coffee and stay with them, relating the stories he had heard around the world, telling them all about the France he had known. It was all still here. ‘Au Nom de la Rose’ was still here. 

He didn’t hesitate a second and rushed inside the place, an honest smile on his face. His eyes roamed over the room and he took a deep breath. It was just like he remembered, a place filled with murmurs and whispers floating above his head and through the roof, indistinct conversations between friends, huge windows bringing in a powerful light at this hour of the day, plants in almost every corner. Even the atmosphere was the same, this powerful smell of imagination coming from the laying books on the shelves, begging to be read, mixing with a distinct smell coming from the dust. The small couch and the old table he used to sit by with his sister were also there. The wooden pieces had many rough and sharp edges but looked just as smooth and clean as he remembered. Finally, his eyes landed on a woman there. He watched her rearranging a bouquet of daffodils, breathing in the perfume of the vibrant flowers as she tended to them meticulously. 

For some reason, he couldn’t look away. She felt familiar, like he had known her all his life, yet he had never seen her before. When she turned around he took an instinctive step toward her. She noticed, raised her head and that was the moment their eyes met. His breath caught in his throat when she smiled at him. He stood, frozen on the spot, staring at her. He couldn’t comprehend that instant connection. There was an inexplicable sense of excitement yet weird feeling that they had known each other forever, that they were meeting each other again after a long journey. He was transfixed, almost stuck by the confusing mixture of emotions but oddly comforted by them - all at the same time. 

“Can I help you ?” She asked him.

He surprised himself thinking there was something eerily calming about her voice, that he could listen to her for hours.

“Do I know you ?” He quickly wondered out loud, mentally facepalming himself for his lack of tact. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking that question ?”

“Why ?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes” She grinned.

“I’m … I’m sorry” He apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean to…” 

“Look weird ?” 

He could swear his heart skipped a beat when he heard her laugh.

“This place is beautiful”

“Thank you” 

“How long have you been working here ?”

“Forever” She smirked. “The store belongs to my family. Passed on from generation to generation” 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“You’re related to François Y/L/N ?” He questioned.

She tilted her head, crossing her arms.

“Now I’m intrigued” She told him. “How do you know about my grandfather ?” 

“We’ve met,” He answered without thinking. He rapidly realized his mistake when she narrowed her eyes in utter curiosity. “I … I didn’t mean … I mean … It was … It was a long time ago”

He gulped, hoping she wouldn’t push it. She looked him up and down, assessing him. 

“What’s your name, weirdo ?” She inquired, giving him a skeptical glance.

“Bucky. M’am” 

She smirked.

“Let me guess, a soldier ?” 

“How … ?” 

“You all have the same manners, and the same eyes”

“What do you mean ?”

She was now standing in front of him, staring at his face with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

“You carry the same sadness and the horror you’ve seen” She replied honestly. “My father was a lot like that too” 

Her answer had the effect of a punch in the gut he hadn’t been expecting. He felt naked under her gaze, a stranger with the power to see through his soul.

“I’m Y/N” She introduced herself, raising her hand to shake his.

It was rare for him to smile truthfully but the unexpected bliss slowly growing made his lips twitch before he could even acknowledge it.

“Hi, Y/N” He greeted her.

She chuckled, amused. 

“Hi, Bucky” She murmured. 

After that encounter, he made a point of coming back as much as he could. He stayed for hours sitting on the couch, reading the same book over and over again. They shared quick words but he didn’t dare to start up a conversation, too afraid he would say something he shouldn’t, something that would scare her away. He was content like this. There was no Winter Soldier, no war, no fight, no one else than Bucky. Being next to this girl was in itself a medication for him. It made no sense but she was so bright and radiant. Like a magnet, he was sucked into an invisible gravitational pull toward her.

By the second week of him coming into the store, she started to notice the small marks of attention. He would come so silently she wouldn’t hear a thing, bringing a fresh cup of coffee he would lay on her counter when she wasn’t looking, replacing the daffodils before they could fade, carrying the heavy boxes filled with new books. When she wasn’t working, she would grab something to read and sit next to him. They would exchange a smile but wouldn’t talk. The proximity was enough. Their presence was louder than any word. A quiet routine they were slowly creating. 

By the fourth month, nothing had changed and that day was no different. Rain was pouring outside and the store was empty, except for Y/N and Bucky. Just as usual, he was reading in a corner while she was working. New stacks of books had arrived and she was methodically putting them on the shelves. Standing on a ladder, on the tip of her toes, she was so focused on the task she had failed to notice the soldier walking up to her. 

“Do you need any help ?” He offered. 

Surprised to hear his voice so close to her, she lost her balance and slipped. She yelped as her ankle hit one side of the ladder and automatically closed her eyes, anticipating the fall. She tried to brace herself but before her body could touch the ground she felt something cold holding her waist. Suddenly, instead of laying on the floor, she was against his hard chest, in a protective embrace. She recognized his arms around her and shivered at the odd coldness. He  felt it immediately and was quick to put some distance between them, making sure his metal arm was no more on her body and only his human hand was steadying her. 

“Are you alright ?” He questioned. She pursed her lips, trying not to show that she was hurt when she heard how worried he sounded. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine”

He looked skeptic but didn’t say anything about it.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologetically told her.

He took the books scattered on the ground, putting them away, and helped her walk to the couch.

“You know, if the goal was to literally make me fall for you, I’d say you did a pretty good job there” She flirted, making him chuckle. 

He sat on the table in front of her and grabbed her calve, gently laying her leg on his thigh to assess the damage. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her blushing. It made him insanely happy to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their closeness. They tried not to look at one another, too embarrassed by the situation. This was the closest they had ever been and the touch on his skin on hers was more than enough to make her heart ready to jump out of her chest. When he clasped her injured ankle, she cried and instinctively pushed him back. 

“Fine, huh ?” He repeated her own words with a smirk.

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

“It’s not a big deal, Bucky” She reassured him. “I’ve got to get back to work”

“You’re not moving from this couch” He ordered.

“Is that an order, soldier ?” She ironically threw at him, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“You bet it is”

She watched him, intrigued, as he stood up and piled up some books on the table to put her ankle to rest on it. 

“No moving around, got it ?” He made sure she would follow his advice.

“Aye, aye, Captain”

He chuckled 

“Technically speaking, I’m not a Captain” He confessed as he continued what she had been doing earlier and started putting the books carefully on the right shelves. 

“Would you have preferred Sergeant ?” She replied, bitting her lips, unsure this was the wrong moment to admit she knew who he was.

He instantly stopped what he was doing and slowly turned around to stare at her.

“What did you say ?” He asked, more scared than ever.

Up until that moment, he had avoided telling her who he was. Becoming part of the Avengers meant his identity wasn’t a secret anymore, and although he had done a terrific job staying hidden among the mass of people, it wouldn’t have taken more than a little push to find who he really was. He stood in front of her, frozen, not having a clue how to react.

“Sergeant Barnes, isn’t it ?” She sounded nervous, almost frightened to say his name out loud.

“I… “ He tried to say anything, but as the rain kept pouring outside, slowly turning into a thunderstorm, he blankly stared back.

“Would you have told me ?” She whispered.

“Eventually”

She humorlessly snorted. 

“We’ve known each other for more than three months, Bucky. I see you practically every day. Be honest, eventually would’ve never come” 

“It’s not like that” He tried to explain.

“I’m not mad, don’t worry” She sadly smiled. “I just wish… I guess I wish you could’ve trust me” 

He rubbed his jaw in frustration and made a step toward her. Without breaking his gaze, he slowly took the glove off, revealing his metal hand. Still, he didn’t look at her, too afraid of her reaction. The cold metal had never felt so hot against his skin, a burning reminder of the stranger he had become.

“I didn’t want you to be scared,” He admitted in a broken voice. 

“Of you ?” She was surprised. “Why would I be ?”

“I’m not a good man, Y/N”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that ?” 

“You don’t understand…”

“The red box under the counter” She interrupted him. “Can you take it for me ? And turn the sign of the shop, we’re closed.”

He gave her a puzzled look, but did as she said anyway. He locked the front door and took the box she asked for before walking to her and putting it directly in her hands.

“Sit” She instructed him.

He didn’t dare to stay near her and chose to stay on an opposite chair.

“I found this a little after you and I met” She told him, motioning to the box. “It was in the basement, hidden under old junks my parents had kept over the years”

He let her speak, not understanding where this was going or why she was telling him about that. She slowly opened the mystery box and took a small envelope out of it. It looked old, so old the paper had turned into a deep shade of yellow.

“My grandfather wrote this” She confessed. “In 1957. It’s addressed to Bucky and Rebecca Barnes. I believe it belongs to you” 

She handed him the letter that he took with shaky hands.

“How did you… ?” He started to ask.

“It was a long shot,” She explained. “The first time you were here, you said my grandfather's name like it meant something to you. Like you really knew him. When I found the box, and the envelope, I didn’t make the connection with you right away. But your name was all I needed to start my research. My parents kept pretty much everything so it didn’t took me too long to find an old photo with you and him, back in the 1930′s” 

He wasn’t moving at all when she showed him a picture François had taken of them right before he was enlisted. 

“I wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, I guess. I mean, you have enough ghosts as it is”

“Still not scared ?” He inquired in a humorless chuckle.

“Not one bit” She didn’t hesitate to reply.

She softly smiled and motioned for him to come closer. When he sat next to her, she moved the box from her lap to his. 

“We were friends, François and I” He recalled, his eyes glued on the letter. “He was married to Eloise. This bookstore was their treasure. He kept repeating that I shouldn’t go to war when I could stay hidden under the pages of books that would take me around the world without risking my life”

She took his metal palm between her fingers when she heard his voice breaking. He almost tried to remove it but she tightly entwined their hands together.

“Maybe he was right” He muttered under his breath.

“Or maybe you and I were meant to meet almost a century later” She shrugged.

He snorted before turning around the envelope to open it. Y/N gently laid her head against his shoulder and let him read in silence. She didn’t move when she felt his body shaking with tears but only held his hand harder.

“They’re originals, from 1954 I think. He kept them for you” She told him as he slowly took what was in the red box. A set of three old books. “Why Lord of the Rings, though ?” 

He laughed,sniffing, before brushing the tears off his face and staring down at the woman. At that very moment, he felt like the journey was done. His soul had stopped the search it had been on for a time that felt like forever. Like a century. 

“My sister and I, we used to come here often,” He said in a melancholic grin. Sorrow was finally starting to be replace by something much better, happiness. “We would sit on this very couch and she would make me read the Hobbit. She used to love that story so much.”

“How many times has she make you read it ?” The woman smirked.

“Enough to remember every single word” He exaggerated, making her giggle. “When I told François I was leaving, he said he would send me books to help me travel away from the war, even just for a moment. I guess he kept them, hoping I would come back. Even after I was declared dead” 

“Maybe deep down he knew you weren’t”

“And he planned this whole meeting with his granddaughter ?” He ironically added.

“Oh no, that was beyond him. That was fate, Barnes”

“I was meant to find you” He agreed, a deep feeling of love and utter contentment forming in his heart. He bent his head down and let all he needed to say be spoken through the kiss they shared. 

“Will you read it to me ?” She playfully requested.

Overflowed with joy, he smirked and kissed her forehead before opening the old book on his lap. There it was, the only choice he needed to make. The only home he had yearn to create. Her. 

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 6)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader  / Topper x Female!Reader  

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Swearing, mild smut, fluff, angst, mentions of abuse (wow a lot) 

Part Summary: The aftermath of the bonfire is pushing you to your limit. Meanwhile, JJ is slowly losing himself in his grief. 

Masterlist

You and Topper meet your friends at the Ocean Club for lunch as arranged over text after the chaos at the Boneyard. You, Rafe, Rhett, Kelce, and Topper are all gathered around the table on the patio of the club. Despite looking put-together, you're all discombobulated in the head. All of your Kook friends are startled, to say the least by the events. More than half of them have never been close to a gun and all of them share a hatred of Pogues. 

Your brother Rhett invited his "friend" Crystal.  She's been fawning after him since their freshman year. They hooked up one time and she was practically picking out an engagement ring. She hangs around Rhett, Rafe, and all of their friends, hoping one of them would show a slight bit of interest. Her bottle black hair and bottle tan scream more New Jersey than OBX, but she throws on a Lily Politzer dress calls herself a Kook. She's always been low-key intimidated by you and envious even. She wants your title of the Princess of the OBX, but she struggles to get past being an associate. In summary, Crystal thinks acting like a stuck-up brat is how to be a Kook. She's delusional.

"Last night was unreal,” Kelce exhales deeply as he leans back in his chair. 

“You know how Pogues can be,” Topper remarks bitterly, placing his arm across your shoulders. 

"Where were you last night?" Rafe questions your brother from down the table. 

"My dad had me in Charleston on business," Rhett explains with a roll of his eyes. 

Crystal places her hand on Rhett's arm, giving it a supportive squeeze. The sight nearly makes you gag. Never in a million years will you call her your sister-in-law. 

"Lucky you," Kelce chuckles. 

"Yeah you really dodged a bullet," Rafe makes a pun. 

"Nice Rafe," Topper nods his head slowly, giving his friend a disapproving look. 

You toss around bits of lettuce around your salad, not exactly hungry. You wouldn't be here right now if Topper didn't already say you two were coming. It's not that you dislike your friends. You just don't feel like a review of last night and a Pogue roast session. Topper notices your lack of voice and interest in the group. He rubs his thumb over your shoulder, gaining your attention. You offer him a weak smile, your mind elsewhere. 

“At least Maybank has what’s coming to him. Apparently, the police are looking for him," Crystal announces to the table. 

Your fork slips from your hand accidentally, causing everyone to stare at you. “Wait, what?!" You glance between the girl and Topper to see if it's true. Topper doesn't react despite seeing your worried expression. Did Topper already know this? Did he not tell you? 

Rafe frowns at your reaction and his flicker to Topper before he answers. “Yeah, people told their parents what happened and the parents reported the incident to the police," he explains hesitantly. 

"As they should!” Crystal adds with a scoff of disgust, wearing a smug expression. “Who knows what that good-for-nothing white trash would’ve done to us if given the chance!" She justifies from across the table. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up, Crystal!” You snap. 

Everyone's jaws drop, astounded that such a vile sentence could come from your lips. 

“Ugh! Excuse me?!” Crystal gasps. 

You lean forward in your chair, turning your body to face the entitled girl. 

“What? Are you deaf all of a sudden?" You wear a mocking grin. "Wouldn’t be surprised with your big loud fucking mouth going constantly!” 

“What’s up your ass Whitfield?!” She fires back, drawing the attention of some other patrons. 

“Your piece of shit attitude!” You bark. 

"Ohh," Kelce drags out. 

"Wow," Rafe struggles to hide his amusement. 

Topper places a warning hand on your shoulder which you shake off. 

“Why are you defending him? He pulled a gun on Topper! On you!” Crystal reminds you in a shout. 

“I know that, Genius! Considering I was on the other side of said gun!” You hiss between your teeth. 

“Then what possible justification is there for what he did?" She huffs. "JJ Maybank is insane! A trash Pogue!” 

You slap your palms against the table, making everything raddle. “No, he’s not!” 

"Y/N!" Your brother warns. "Remember where you are!" 

You don't give a shit about where you are! If this girl continues to run her mouth, you're going to do a lot worse than yell. 

“What? What is it about him, huh?" Crystal presses with a wicked smirk. "A charity thing? Wealthy guilt? Rooting for the underdog?” 

“Crystal!” Rafe barks her name defensively. 

“What?” The girl giggles. "It's true, isn't it? She's got a thing for the bottom feeder!" 

“Back off!” Topper warns her, finally backing you up. He may agree with her, but once she starts making digs at you he doesn't hesitate to put her in her place. 

Then, a lightbulb snaps on in her head. “Oh wait... or is it that you have the hots for him? Have you officially run out of guys on this side of the island? You a Pogue whore now?” She laughs mockingly. 

Having enough of her, you impulsively pick up your full glass of white wine and toss it in her face. She gasps as the liquid covers her, her mouth in the shape of an "O." The boys' jaws hit the table as all they can do is watch you toss your drink at her white tube top. 

"Y/N!" Topper utters your name in shock. This is nothing like you. You never lose your cool. You're always the calm and put together one of your friends. 

"You bitch!" Crystal nearly cries. "This is designer!" 

You groan, tossing your head back. "Oh my God! Get over yourself!" 

“JJ Maybank should be sent to jail with his dad and if he rotted in there I doubt anyone would miss him!” Crystal remarks with a snarky smirk. 

That's it! Without a second thought, you fly up from your chair, causing it to toss backward onto the floor. You leap across the full table, reaching your arms out for the girl. Kelce and Rafe move out the way as Crystal screams. Glasses and silverware fall off the table onto the wood-paneled floor patio floor. Topper moves quickly to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you back, but not before you get a good slap across her face. 

“Woah, Woah, Woah there!” He pants, struggling to get a good hold on you. 

“Let me go!” You scream, wiggling in his arms. 

“Nope, not letting you get arrested today,” he grunts, stepping backward away from the table. 

“You crazy whore!” Crystal yells, holding her cheek. 

 “You’re calling me a whore? That’s ironic considering your name is Crystal! You were practically named for the corner, bitch!” You fire back, tossing up your middle fingers at her while Topper drags you toward the exit. 

“Damn!” Kelce laughs, covering his mouth to hide it. 

You don't care who's watching. Crystal had this coming a long time ago and she's pushed your patience to its limit the moment she touched JJ. She'll know now to never speak of him. 

“Fuck you, Y/N!” Crystal screams one last time. 

Rhett grabs her arm, quietly begging for her to stop. He's certainly pissed at your impolite actions and will likely run to tell your parents. 

“No thanks! I’m not into insecure, loudmouth, prostitutes!” You snap out one final dig before Topper gets you out the door. 

You never noticed Pope cleaning a table just yards away, you were pretty preoccupied. He watched in awe as you quite literally flew across the table and slapped a girl because she spoke wrongly about JJ. After Pope saw you with Topper, he wasn't sure what to think. He was just as confused by your relationship as JJ. The turn of events he's just witnessed sealed the deal in his mind, you're in love with JJ, whether you know it or not. 

________________________________

After his shift at the Club, Pope immediately went to John B's, knowing that's where his friends would be waiting to go out on the HMS Pogue. 

“You guys! You’ll never believe what happened at work today!” He rushes out as he jogs down the dock. 

“All the Kooks got swallowed up by the ocean?” JJ remarks bitterly in a grumble as he lounges on the front of the boat in his swim trunks

“No!” He pants as he slows to a stop. “Y/N and Crystal got into this huge fight!” 

“What?!” John B gasps. 

“What do you mean? Is she okay?!” Kiara questions as she helps Pope onto the boat. 

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine, but it was insane!" Pope laughs in amazement. 

“What about?” Sarah inquires, eager to learn more. 

“JJ!" Pope explains with the utmost enthusiasm. "Crystal was talking shit and the next thing I know Y/N throws her drink in her face and jumps at her. She slaps the hell out of her! Topper literally had to carry her out!” 

“Holy shit,” John B mutters, wide-eyed. 

“God I would’ve paid big bucks to see that,” Kiara chuckles. 

“I can’t even envision Y/N doing something like that,” Sarah shakes her head in disbelief. 

“I know, she’s usually so polite, calm, civilized," Kiara lists. 

“You should’ve seen her guys. It was so badass. Lesson learned, don’t piss of Y/N!" Pope settles down on the bench beside Kiara. 

“It was over me?” JJ finally voices quietly. 

Pope hums. “Crystal wouldn’t stop and Y/N told her to “shut the fuck up.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Y/N swear,” Sarah admits. 

 “That’s because she rarely does,” John B adds. 

“So she’s not pissed at me?” JJ questions, his tone steady and expressionless. 

“Based on how she was going to claw a girl’s eyes out in your defense, I vote no,” Pope determines. 

JJ stands up in a rush, moving to hop down into the boat. “Well, where did she go after that? Did Topper take her home or did she-" 

“She went looking for you,” you call out from the opposite end of the dock. 

Everyone's heads snap in your direction. All of their eyes are wide with surprise. They all smile, honestly glad to see you. JJ, however, just stares blankly with an unreadable reaction. 

“Hi JJ,” you greet timidly, doing your best to smile but you fall short. 

The boy never breaks his eye contact with you as he jumps off the boat. He marches toward you and you're not sure what to expect. You haven't spoken since last night and you wouldn't exactly call that a conversation. "What do you want? Come to gloat?" He sasses. 

“Okay, that’s our cue!” John B announces, starting up the engine. 

“Yep! We'll catch you guys later!” Pope rushes out. 

“Good to see you Y/N!” Sarah adds.

The Pogues desert JJ, leaving you two to work out your problems. JJ doesn't even turn around or react in the slightest as John B hurries the boat away. An ounce of you wonders if it's because he wants to stay, to talk to you. 

Your eyes flicker down to his chest and torso. The bruises you saw last night as a tad more healed, but still, look awful. Now that his body is more exposed, you start to notice more marks and cuts all over his arms, chest, ribcage. The sight makes your heart sink. Without thought, you place your hand on JJ's stomach. "Did Top do this?" You worry. JJ's muscles clench under your touch. The feeling of your fingertips glide across his bare torso makes him go weak in the knees. 

"No, got into a fight with a bobcat. You should see the bobcat," he smirks slightly, making light of the situation. 

Your face falls as your eyes meet his. "Don't joke-" 

"Sorry!" He steps back. "Can't take you seriously when everything you say is a lie," he scoffs. 

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. "What are you even saying right now?!" 

"It was all bullshit!" He snaps. "All of it! Everything you said! You're no different than the rest of them!" He exhales deeply, taking a moment to stare at you. He immediately regrets yelling considering how guilty he felt after what he did last night. Yet, JJ's hurt and he's pent up these emotions for days now. They're driving him nuts. "You lie, cheat, you take what you want when you want it no matter the consequences or who you hurt!" 

"I never lied to you, JJ!" You defend, equally as passionate as him. "Every fucking word was true!" JJ's brows rise slightly at your use of language. It appearing so foreign coming from your mouth. You sigh, "Jesus, JJ you can be so oblivious sometimes!" You turn on your heels, marching back down the dock toward the yard. 

"At least I'm not playing both sides of the fence! I know what I want and where I belong!" JJ fires. 

You whip your head over your shoulder and stomp back toward him. "You freaking psycho!" 

"Psycho! How am I a psycho?" JJ laughs, astonished. 

"You pulled a gun!" You remind him. 

"He was drowning me, Y/N!" JJ screams, getting in your face. You swallow hard. Despite the intensity of your arguing, you can't help but feel a rush of satisfaction having JJ so close again. JJ looks to the side, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm not gonna be your little plaything while you wait on Topper of all people to fuck you again," he shakes his head, meeting your gaze again. "I won't do it." 

Your lips part, not believing the words coming from him right now. "Fuck you, JJ," you hiss between your teeth before turning again to walk away. JJ stays where he is and watches you stomp away. A part of him wants to beg you to stay, the other tells himself that you deserve everything he's saying. 

You come to a slow stop as your mind races. You're Y/N Whitfield, you don't have to take this shit, especially from JJ Maybank of all people. You spin on your heels and JJ glances up as you do. "For someone so smart you're an idiot!" You clench your jaw. "Topper is my best friend, that's it!" You reason. "Whatever Sarah told you, that was before I met you! He could never be you!" 

JJ simply stares at you blankly. The silence kills you. One minute he won't shut up and the next he stands there like an idiot. 

"The way I feel when I'm with Topper..." you sigh, unsure how to describe it. You're not entirely what to call it. "It's comfortable, sure, but it's not anything glorious. There's no excitement there, just a sense of security from knowing each other for so long." You hesitate to continue, but since you'll probably never speak again, you might as well lay everything out on the table right? "You don't even have to touch me, your glance is enough to make me feel alive. When I went to bed, I thought of you. When I woke up, I thought of you. You're... you're it for me, JJ. I can't imagine there's anything better than when I'm with you. But... I guess we already fucked it up didn't we?" 

There's a pause between shots and you prepare to walk away from JJ forever. Then, something in him sets off and he starts rushing up to you. Startled, you begin to shuffle back. 

"What are you doing?" You question, placing a hesitant hand up. 

"Showing you how much of an idiot I really am," he replies swiftly as he brings his hands up to cup your face. 

He pauses for a second, looking at you with hooded eyes. You lose all capability of breathing, melting into his hands. You glance down at his parted lips, waiting for what's next. JJ smashing his lips to yours hungrily. Without hesitation, you reciprocate the action, combing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.

 You meant every word. Being with Topper can be great and there's so much history there. Yet, being with JJ is entirely different. It's new. It's organic. It's what keeps you awake at night in the best way. You imagine exploring every inch of his body and never letting go. 

JJ breaks from you, pressing his lips to your forehead as his eyes fall shut. "I'm so sorry, Baby, for everything!" He whispers against your cheek before planting a kiss there. 

"Me too," you reply. 

He pulls back, meeting your gaze. "I don't think you're a slut." 

You laugh, "I sure hope not!"  

"You're too good for me," he shakes his head as he still wonders if this is all in his imagination. 

"Quite the opposite actually," you debate. 

"No, don't say that." He shakes his head frantically, hating it when you speak badly about yourself. "You're everything to me!" 

You place your hands over his on your cheek and plant a kiss on his palm, making JJ totally simp for you. 

"Do you... would you maybe wanna have a little hot tub night?" The boy asks nervously, still kinda unsure of himself when it comes to you. 

"I'd love that," you smile, wanting to spend every moment with him from this day forever. 

_____________________________

Settling in the hot tub, JJ tugs at the rim of your panties, pulling you to sit across his lap. You drape your arms on his shoulders, resting your forehead against his. 

"Are you warm enough?" He whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. 

Hum as your eyes falls shut, pondering the closeness. 

"You're so soft and warm. You're like a human Pillow Pet," he comments with a slight snicker. 

"Excuse me?" You lift your head to look at him. 

"Minus the furry part," he elaborates. 

"You're such a goof." You laugh, placing your palm against his head and pushing it away playfully. 

"Only for you, Baby," JJ grins. 

You place a quick peck on his lips before shifting to move off of his lap. 

JJ pouts, letting out a minor whine. "Uh uh, don't leave." 

"I'm just grabbing my drink," you giggle at his childlike expression. As you take a sip from your beer, you can feel JJ watching you. You glance over your shoulder and sure enough, his eyes remain locked on your ass. "You're starring," you smirk. 

"You bet your amazing ass I am," he mumbles, reaching across the water and grabbing your ass, giving it a squeeze. 

"JJ!" You gasp, swatting his hand away. 

He tilts his head back, exposing his sharp jaw as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you back to him. "Couldn't help myself! It was practically begging for a squeeze." 

"Right..." You nod, straddling his lap. 

As an act of retaliation, you press your palm to the center of his boxers, making the boy jolt lightly from surprise. 

"Holy shit," he swallows hard. 

"Couldn't help myself, it was practically begging for it," you smirk, repeating his words. 

"You're too good to be true," he whispers, bringing his lips closer to yours. 

"Dido," you grin, leaning in to kiss him. 

_____________________

After pondering the bliss of you and JJ finally being reunited in the hot tub, you two make dinner together in the Chateau's kitchen. You two move in sync as you prepare the oh-so-difficult meal of pizza rolls. You share a place of them while cuddling watching Goonies. During it, JJ comes up with the idea that you two should be Andy and Brand for Halloween. It makes you smile and all warm inside to hear him making plans for two months from now. It makes you fully realize how much JJ sees a future with you. Somewhere before Goonies was over, you fell asleep in JJ's lap while he was playing with your hair. The last few days have worn on you emotionally, mentally, and physically. 

The Pogues came home and when they saw you and JJ on the couch, especially you, they quietly stayed outside. Except, John B lingered, smiling at the sight of his friend doting on you. He's never seen JJ be so gentle and patient in his life. 

“You’re different with her," John B whispers not to wake you. 

JJ glances up from observing you look at his friend with a satisfied smirk. “She makes me want to be better." His fingers comb through your Y/H/C locks, utterly content. 

“I think she’s really good for you,” John B nods in agreement.  

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to change, to be worthy of being with her," JJ confesses quietly as he returns his focus to you. 

"You two deserve each other," John B assures his friend. 

"You think?" JJ wonders, still unsure of his place in your life. 

John B snickers lightly. "I mean, she did leap across a table in front of all her friends and slap a girl to defend you." 

"Yeah she did, didn't she? Pretty badass," JJ chuckles, still amazed that you did that. 

"She loves you man," John B concludes with a shrug. 

"Really?" JJ narrows his eyes with curiosity at his friend. 

"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" John B laughs breathlessly with a crooked grin. 

"I thought it was all in my head," JJ confesses with a childish fall of his lips like he just learned some overwhelming news. 

"It's not," his friend shakes his head, happy to see his friend finally have some hope. "She looks at you the same way you look at her." 

JJ's brows scrunch together and he looks up at John B. "When you and Sarah said it to each other, how did you know it was the right time?" 

"You'll know. You'll feel it," he describes confidently.  

"What if I feel it now?" JJ asks softly, glancing down at you. 

"Then say it. Say it whenever you can, as often as you can," John B advises before stepping away quietly to give you two time. 

JJ sits with your head cradled in his lap. He's not eager to join his friends around the fire outside. He's content with you here with him, whether you're asleep or not. You're enough for him. You're everything to him. 

JJ leans down, planting a kiss to your temple, then gliding his lips down to your ear. "I love you, Y/N," he whispers while you sleep.  __________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez 

[boytouya]

Okay first off, I love you, you fantastic amazing person💖 and two a Shinso getting his adult older brother to finally ask Aizawa out?? After seeing them pining after each other for a while? ☘️

𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long!!

Warnings: None

The first time Hitoshi noticed your feelings toward his mentor were mutual he was in a parent-teacher conference. In his case it was a guardian-teacher conference. He was going over his plans and goals for Hitoshi with you, indirectly asking for your permission.

“This is...depressing.” Hitoshi pursed his lips as he glanced between you and Aizawa. You

had a stupid look on your face (well, to him you always looked stupid), and your eyes hadn’t moved from Mr. Aizawa’s lips. He wanted to hurry up and get out of there, drag you away from your crush and complain about how out of all people you chose him. His mentor. You’re the worst big brother ever.

Either Aizawa was too busy making hidden goo-goo eyes or he didn’t care enough to humor Hitoshi’s statement, but he continued explaining the rigorous schedule he’d given Hitoshi. Underneath the bored stare Shinso could tell Aizawa-Sensei was dying to ask:

Are the dark circles genetic?

Well, that or he was infatuated with your eyes. His face wrinkled up as he cringed. All these stolen glances and yet neither of you could muster up the courage to say something. Hitoshi isn’t stupid, but his older brother might be.

The second time Hitoshi noticed your feelings toward his mentor were mutual was after he practiced training.

Mr. Aizawa had taught him new jabs and how to dodge them. Throughout their spars Shinso would take a packed punch straight to the stomach without even thinking to dodge it, or his reaction time was too slow, so Aizawa took it upon himself to teach a few timed dodges.

Hitoshi was covered in a thin layer of sweat and grime when Aizawa asked him a question that kept him perplexed for the rest of the day.

“If you feel comfortable sharing, how old is your brother?” That was definitely a new one.

Hitoshi squinted, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’d say the same age as you, Sir.”

Mr. Aizawa looked incredibly satisfied with the answer. It was odd, seeing as the teacher always had something unintentionally witty to say after receiving open ended answers, but Hitoshi paid it no mind.

…

It was the day before Spring break, Hitoshi was walking out of the UA dorms with a suitcase dragging behind him when he saw you talking to his teacher. He could tell you were flustered, constantly jittering around and rubbing at your neck every time you made eye contact with him.

Mr. Aizawa sounded...cheery. His hair was swept back and he stood up straight, which was peculiar. He’s only ever cleaned himself up for the press or parents. Sure, you were his guardian but this wasn’t a special occasion, he was just making sure his students got home safely.

“Hey, ‘Tosh!” You waved enthusiastically, breaking free from the trance the teacher had you trapped in. Hitoshi walked over, the wheels of his suitcase dragging along the pavement as he greeted you with a bored stare.

“You ready to go home?” You asked, your hand finding its way into his purple locs. You had a few strands of purple in your hair as well, clearly your mother had very dominant genes.

Shinso couldn’t help but notice your nervous tics, his glance flowed upward to Aizawa’s face. He wasn’t looking directly at you anymore, instead staring at the entry doors to U.A. Hitoshi could see doubt flash across your face.

“I have to make sure every student gets home safe,” Shouta started walking toward the only unoccupied car parked by the school, which he assumed was yours. “Not my decision.”

He spoke to you as though he didn’t already start walking, but the two of you took it as your queue to pick up the pace. He purposely bumped you into his mentor, hoping to start another conversation. You were such an idiot, apologizing and pursing your lips. Just talk to him. After witnessing the two of you ‘flirt’ like middle schoolers, he deemed that was enough.

“Could you just ask each other out already.” He says aloud, slamming his mouth shut when you stop walking beside him. But the damage has been done, because Aizawa is turning to face you with an unreadable expression. Hitoshi wants to take it back, go back a few seconds and fix everything he may or may not be about to destroy because you look so nervous.

You expect him to say something but he doesn’t. Shouta simply hums, an almost imaginary hint of a smile ghosting on his face as you scurry over to pop the trunk of your car. His students were always so observant, but none were quite as blunt as Shinso.

Aizawa takes the suitcase from Shinso, who’s clearing his throat and hurrying into the passenger's seat before he can say anything else. It’s times like this he wishes he could mind control himself. He can hear the two of you beneath the beeping of the car, and considers it a relief when he hears you laugh.

“I don’t have much free time but...I know a place that makes a mean cup of coffee,” Aizawa pauses, lifting the suitcase and neatly arranging it into the corner of the trunk. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Are you free this weekend?”

[dollslayer]

Botanical Interest - In Bloom

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x florist!Reader

Summary: Steve comes home to you angry after a rough day at work. He made a promise to keep his work life separate but can he keep it?

W/C: 4,103

Warnings: Angst, mentions of past abuse, smut, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hi there! A part three for our soft mob Steve and his lovely florist. Thank you so much to everyone that has shown interest in my work so far, if you like it please reblog and comment!! You can also check out my other stuff if you haven't yet. Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

_____________

When Steve Rogers had asked you to be his girlfriend you knew there was a weight attached to it. A long talk over a stack of waffles and a couple of beers left Steve with a ‘yes’ and some ground rules.

After the incident in the alleyway you both agreed that he left his work at the door whenever you spent time together. Steve’s profession has made you uneasy since you met him and you two couldn’t avoid it forever.

A month later and you’ve managed to avoid conflict for the most part. Nothing as bold as that day in the alley, just small moments where he’d have to take a phone call, once when he had to cancel your plans for a ‘work incident’. But still he really was trying to keep his work and personal life separate and you appreciated it.

It had bothered you that he had to do those things but it’s not as though your work hadn’t impacted your time together either. Being a florist meant a lot of late nights when you worked events. Wedding season in full swing, every weekend was a busy one for you.

That’s why Monday’s have become almost sacred to you, your one day off a week. You and Steve always spent time together, sometimes you’d go out or stay home and just relax.

This Monday Steve had promised to come over and make you dinner. He’d only ever tried to cook for you once and it had ended with a lasagna burnt so badly you had to open every window in the apartment just to get the charred smell out. You couldn’t wait for him to redeem himself and take him to bed after you both came out of your food comas.

You were cleaning the kitchen when you heard your phone buzz. You had asked Steve if he wanted you to pick up any groceries since you had the day off. Expecting a list you were met with mild disappointment.

Running a little late, doll. 6:30 and not a minute later, I promise. Don’t worry about groceries. I'll get it all taken care of, just enjoy your day off.

You were kinda miffed but at least he gave you a heads up and he was going to get the groceries. You picked your sponge back up and scrubbed away at the counter.

________

Expecting to be let down, you were pleasantly surprised when 6:30 rolled around and your doorbell sounded. You buzzed him up and waited patiently for him at your door.

Steve appeared as he rounded the corner and he looked exhausted, irritated maybe. He carried a lot of tension in his shoulders and his suit jacket was long gone. His tie was undone and his sleeves were rolled up to where you could see well toned forearms. You bit your lip thinking of those arms holding you in place in bed.

Maybe we should just ditch the dinner and skip straight to dessert.

He approached you and you leaned up to give him a kiss.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” You greeted him as you shut the door behind you.

He set the groceries down onto the counter with some force and you winced. Okay so he did have a rough day. Do I ask him about it? I don’t wanna talk about his work but I don’t want him to feel like he can’t talk to me about his day.

He sighed and turned to face you, took his tie off completely and ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it” he responded as he took a beer out of your fridge.

You were off-put by the abruptness of his answer. Maybe he was just short with you because he didn’t want to talk about work.

You stepped closer and tried to approach him again.

“I-“

“I said don’t worry about it.” Steve snapped, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped the screen, visibly annoyed. “I gotta take this”. He slammed the door to your bathroom shut behind him and left you stunned in the middle of your kitchen.

What just happened? You had never seen him so upset aside from when you caught him mid-punch a month ago with Mr. Andersen.

Realistically you knew it wasn’t you he was mad at but you’d never done well with people when they were mad at you. You were engaged years ago to a man that was abusive towards you. Things had started off well like they always do but he became manipulative and he was quick to anger. You were constantly questioned and criticized. He kept you from seeing your friends, even some of your family. It took your friends coming through for you to get you out of the situation safely. Through lots of therapy and flinging yourself headfirst into your business you’ve come a long way but sometimes you had difficult moments.

It couldn’t be helped as your heart began to quicken and you felt heat come to your face from the embarrassment of being snapped at. Unsure what to do you poured yourself a glass of wine and sat down at your small dining table facing away from the bathroom.

You were trying to get yourself to not shut down in response to his change in mood but it was hard. He’s upset and clearly irritated with me already, he probably just wants to go home. Maybe you should just reschedule. Don’t cry, if you cry you’re gonna make it a whole Thing. Don’t cry. He’s not mad at you specifically and it’s not your fault.

In the torrent of your thoughts you didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Steve hadn’t spared you a glance or a word as he started unloading the groceries. Angrily placing a jar of pasta sauce onto your counter with a thud and muttering under his breath. You watched him timidly and took another sip of your wine.

He turned to you and took another swig of his beer.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? What did I do?” He challenged.

Not wanting him to be upset with you, you devolved into old ways of over-explaining so you could justify your actions. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the rational part was telling you it’s not your fault he’s angry and you don’t owe an explanation but you were too far gone.

“I, I just, you didn’t do anything you just, um, you just looked upset. I don’t want to make it worse, I’m sorry. I was just looking at you, I didn’t mean to-”

You were cut off in the midst of your nervous rambling by the shrill ring of Steve’s phone. A frustrated growl escaped his mouth.

“I have to take this,” he muttered as he strode back to the bathroom. “I told you not to call me until you had it fixed” you heard him before the closing of the door muffled his anger.

He left you there to stew in your nervousness and self loathing. Five minutes had gone by and the rational part of your brain was slowly taking over. The rational part of your brain was angry. It’s okay for him to have a bad day and not want to talk about it but the way he’s spoken to you and responded to you isn’t warranted. You needed to confront him calmly and if he was still angry you needed to ask him to leave. You can talk to him another time but not while he’s angry. It won’t do anyone any good. Just like you’ve talked about in therapy.

You rehearsed the lines in your head and finished your glass. You heard the door open again and almost threw everything you had been going over in your head out the window. Just breathe. It’s fine, he calmed down so quickly after that time in the alley, he’ll understand.

_____

Steve was angry. With Clint for getting the dates of Pierce’s arrival wrong, with Sam for failing to get the recon they needed to get the drop on him. Even angrier with Bucky for taking all of this out on him when it wasn’t even his fault. But most of all he was angry with himself for letting his work get in the way of your time together. He promised you undivided attention and you deserved it.

He knew how important your day off was to you and after the day he’d been having he couldn’t wait to just come back to you. He just wanted to make some decent spaghetti and melt the worries of his day off with your embrace. He craved the physical comfort he got from you after a long day. The feeling of endlessly sinking into your arms while you held him in bed allowed him to be the vulnerable one for once. He never felt comfortable enough with any of the other women he’d dated to even entertain the idea of being the little spoon.

He always suspected that who he was at work was almost the only reason any of the other women had even gone out with him. Who he was at work was almost a front for the art-loving, touch-starved, hopeless-romantic that he was when he let himself relax. They’d all just wanted this big burly man who was always in charge, a walking wall of muscle and testosterone that they had seen and heard of him to be when he was on the job. But when he was on his own time he just wanted to feel comfort more than anything.

He just wanted to melt into you.

That’s why he was eager to get to you today but the constant calls were cutting him to his last nerve. Bucky was out with Natasha and her parents so he specifically asked not to be called. Being the boss, Bucky was not to be bothered. Being second in command, Steve was.

When he hung up with Clint he exited the bathroom and walked straight past you without a word, knowing you didn’t want to hear about work and talking about it would just make him angrier. He started unloading the grocery bag with maybe a bit more vigor than was necessary.

Remembering he had opened a beer that was probably warm by now he turned to you and grabbed it off the table you were sat at. At this moment he looked up and you had this look on your face he couldn’t quite place. He wanted to know what was up so he asked but you just ended up stammering out a response that didn’t make much sense.

He was trying to listen to you, he really was but he just couldn’t work around this building anger, couldn’t let it go. So of course his phone rings again. And of course he takes it. Excusing himself and locking the bathroom door behind him again he was already forming how to lay into his men on the other line without raising his voice and alarming you too much.

“I told you not to call me unless you had it fixed” he seethed into the receiver. Steve pounded his fist against the porcelain of your sink in aggravation. “I’m not fucking coming down there tonight. I shouldn’t have to be taking fucking phone calls to solve this kinda shit when I’m with my girl. Lose their tail, re-track them, and we’ll deal with the rest in the morning. Don’t call me again unless someone fucking gets shot”, Steve hung up abruptly and took a deep breath.

He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say to you so he just waited a minute to collect himself. He took another deep breath and readied himself to go back to you.

_________

You were sitting quietly at the table, silently digging your nails into your palm as you tensed your fist. Steve had exited the bathroom and taken a seat across from you. You decided to see if he’d speak first and waited.

A beat of silence and you sighed deeply, readying yourself to talk to him like you’d planned.

“Steve, I understand you’re having a bad day and it’s probably work related. That being said, just because you’re mad at someone else doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me” You blew out a shaky breath, wanting to finish before you lost your nerve and before he interjected. You didn’t dare make eye contact. Only stared at his hands on the table in front of you.

“If- if you’re mad don’t take it out on me, and if you feel like you can’t control that anger I don’t want you around me while you feel that way. If you want to talk through it or just work past it then I’m here. But if you’re going to snap at me again and just be mad then you need to leave. It’s not fair to me.”

I’m pretty sure Dr. Danforth would be fucking proud of me right now. Straight to the point but respectful, just like we talked about. And even if Steve’s mad, you’re in control. You’re doing great.

You braved a peek at his face at this point and he looked stunned himself. He’s probably never been spoken to like that in his life, being the second in command and all. You watched his brows bunch together in what you hoped was thought and not frustration for you and waited for him to speak.

________

Oh. Steve was a little struck by what you’d said. Have I been that bad? She’s shaking like a leaf, of course I must have been that bad. He’d had no idea that he even snapped at you, that’s how wrapped up in his own business and his head he was. He never meant to take it out on you, didn’t even realize he had. Sometimes it was like he was so deep into his work life he couldn’t take himself out of it. But he wanted to try, for you.

He remained silent while he pulled the chair across from you out and took a seat. He looked up to meet your gaze only to find you staring at your hands. You were digging your nails into your palms so he brought one large warm hand to cover yours and brought the other up to your face gently to get you to look at him. You flinched away from him and he felt another strike of surprise, but also maybe a hint of shame. Is she afraid of me? Normally Steve likes when people are afraid of him, makes his job easier, but he’d never want that from you.

“Sweetheart”, Steve’s voice was just above a whisper when you finally looked up at him.

“I’m… sorry, that’s really it I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I didn’t even realize I did.” He apologized.

____________

You could feel your tears subsiding and finally brought yourself to look at him. He looked just as exhausted before, just a little bit more sad. You imagined it was probably easy for him to get swept up in who he was at work so it must be hard to separate himself from it since it requires so much from him. You don’t want him to feel bad for being upset, you just want him to be more aware of himself and to not take things out on you.

“Steve, I know we said you wouldn’t talk about work when we’re together but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me if you have a bad day. Maybe you can keep it vague but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t say anything or be yourself, unless of course you don’t want to, I don’t want to force you to talk about anything either. When you snapped at me I just sorta shut down” You explained.

Steve seemed to be processing your words and forming a response when he took your hand in his to stop your nails from ripping into your palms like they often do. He nodded and took a breath.

“You have no idea how much it means to hear that from you, thank you. Just for the record, I never feel like I can’t be myself with you, it’s opposite, really. When I’m with you I get to drop all that bullshit at the door. Girls in the past have just wanted me because I was scary but seeing the way you flinched just now, I don’t ever want you to feel scared of me.” Steve confessed.

Maybe it’s time to tell him about the engagement, let him know where you’re coming from. You blew out a shaky breath and looked away from him again.

“I, um, I’m not scared of you. Years ago I was engaged to a man and things were really bad, he was really bad. I’m not ready to talk about all of it but that’s why I shut down on you when you snapped. I’ve been through a lot of therapy and I’m still working on it, but I’m not afraid of you. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it’s… kind of a sore subject” you admitted.

Steve’s nostrils flared and his grip on your hand tightened a little but you could tell he was trying everything he could to school his features and reply to you.

“I… didn’t know that I’m sorry.” he said as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. “If you ever wanna talk about it more, I’m here. And if you don’t, I understand.”

You stood from your chair and came around behind him to throw your arms around his neck. You kissed his cheek and rested your head against his.

“Thank you for listening and apologizing. I forgive you. And if you wanna talk about your day then I’m here.” You assured him.

Steve turned his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss which you reciprocated. Steve stood to his full height without breaking the kiss and brought his hands up to frame your face. The warmth was comforting again to you. Your tongue slipped into his mouth and he elicited the softest of sighs before returning your passion.

He broke the kiss while his hands explored your curves. “I want to make it up to you, will you let me do that, sweetheart?” he asked.

You could only look up at him with eyes blown wide with lust and affection. You nodded and he kissed you swiftly before leading you to your bedroom. You were holding his hand when he let go and softly urged you backwards onto the bed. You obliged and soon he was on top of you laying feather-light kisses to the column of your neck.

Your hands mussed his hair and smoothed out the tension in his shoulders as you held onto him. He kissed his way lower and lifted up the hem of our shirt and kissed his way back up to your breasts. You sat up slightly and took off your top and unhooked your bra, letting it fall before throwing it to the side. Steve took turns taking your nipples between his teeth and teasing them, licking and kissing them. He knew it always made you squirm and would build the anticipation before you could even touch him.

“Steve, please.” You whined.

Wordlessly he kissed and bit his way lower and undid your shorts. You arched your back to help him remove them along with your panties. Steve wasted no time and administered the smallest of licks to your clit. You gasped slightly at the feeling when you felt two fingers prodding your entrance before going in. Your body was getting accustomed to the initial wave of pleasure brought on by Steve’s movement and slowly you ground your hips against his hand and cried out softly.

Normally Steve would never let that fly, he was always so controlling and dominant in bed but tonight was different. Tonight was soft and he was making it up to you, showing his love in a physical way. So he let you push him deeper and raise your hips just so to reach the perfect angle. You felt yourself tighten around him and this is the point he usually slows down just to drag things out but your loud cries only fueled him as he doubled his efforts. With a final cry you came around his fingers, white heat blinding your vision momentarily.

You caught your breath and looked down at Steve. His beard was absolutely drenched and he sucked his fingers clean. You could almost cum again just from the sight of it. He wiped his mouth on a tissue before returning to you to give you a kiss. You tasted yourself on him but you didn’t care, you just wanted his mouth on yours. You felt his erection pressing against your thighs and it had you squirming all over again. You reached to undo his belt when he stopped you.

“This night is supposed to be about you, doll. I’ll be fine” He protested.

You shook your head at him. “I want you, all of you. Please, Steve”, you begged.

He nodded and undid his belt. You helped undress and when he was finally naked you felt the rush of heat to your core all over again, an itch you couldn’t scratch. You laid back further on the bed and soon he was above you, face inches from yours and one arm at the side of your head.

His cock nudged against your core and entered slowly to stretch you out. You moaned deeply and when he was all the way in he kissed you passionately and began moving. It didn’t take much for him to pick up the pace as he started to fuck you. He swore under his breath at the feeling of you.

“You’re so, so, good sweetheart. So fuckin’ good.” He praised.

His words made you keen as you let the feeling of him making love to you take you over completely. His lips grazed yours in between grunts and he moved one hand to your clit while the other cradled the back of your head. You held onto his shoulders tightly and sobbed out pleas for him to keep going. His thrusts picked up speed and so did his hand. You were so close to the edge and you could feel he was too.

“I love you” he panted out before his hips lunged forward into you one last time before he came inside of you.

The shock of his confession and his work on your clit triggered your second orgasm. It was powerful and had you clawing his back and gasping in pleasure. He’d never said that before. Did he mean it? You looked to him for the answer but his lips caught yours as he gave a few last lazy thrusts. He finally collapsed to your side and was heaving to catch his breath.

You both laid there basking in the afterglow of the makeup sex for a few minutes. You turned on your side to look at him. He was so perfect like this, so at ease.

“Did you.. Mean it? What you said?” You questioned nervously. You really wanted him to mean it.

He turned slowly to look at you and he was blushing. “Yeah, I did. I know it’s kind of soon and you don’t have to say it back, but I couldn’t help it. I love you” he confided.

“I love you too, I’m not just saying it cause I feel like I have to, I love you Steve Rogers. All of you.” you assured him.

The softest of kisses was laid on your lips. This moment with him was perfect.

“I can’t believe you love me. I’m so sorry about earlier. I feel so comforted when I’m with you, the last thing I want is to lose you. I promise I will do everything I can to never be like your ex. Ever. If I’m being a dick I want you to tell me,” He apologized again.

You were about to respond when his stomach let out the loudest groan. You both laughed as you sat up.

“I did promise you dinner. Unburned this time!” Steve pledged as he helped you gather up your clothes.

“That’s a promise I’m going to hold you to, Rogers.”

[earnestly-endlessly]

kind of an odd request — do you have fics where erik is grumpy with everyone else but a ray of sunshine with charles?

Hi anon, thank you for the ask. First and foremost, I'm so sorry for how long this took me but I've been searching for all the fics that come to mind that fit your request. Second, this is not an odd request because I love this trope so much. I mean, it's basically canon that he's grumpy with everyone except for his Charles, right? Anyway, I might add to this list later on, but I can't sit on this any longer and hope that you have found some fics that you enjoy!!

Fic Recs Where Erik is grumpy with everyone but a ray of sunshine with Charles

Twice as Blind – Darksknight

Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.

(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)

In the moonlight, on a joy ride – scarlettblush

Summary: Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.

The Proper Care of Actors – Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etherei, afrocurl

Summary: Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

Rumor Mill – ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends.

So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Work/Life Balance – pocky_slash

Summary: Alex is pretty sure his weird, anti-social boss is a robot. Right up until the guy's adorable husband shows up. His adorable husband who happens to be a famous actor. His adorable husband who happens to be the very same famous actor who was the source of many of Alex's teenage fantasies.

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.

For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

Of kittens and teacups and love – Ren

Summary: Modern AU in which Charles and Erik are flatmates. Charles studies psychology and likes tea and chess and keeps bringing home stray kittens, and Erik lets him because he's maybe perhaps a little bit sort of in love with him.

Fools Rush In – LoveSupreme

Summary: Erik owns a cafe on the edge of campus and accidentally starts maybe-stalking a Biology Professor there.

Growing Pains – ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Series

Home Together (The Finding Our Way Remix) – significantowl

Summary: Erik is not the sort of person other students strike up conversations with. His expression, his posture, every part of his manner say: Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. But none of that stops the boy ahead of him in line with the collapsible white cane, and nothing can stop Erik from falling for him, like it or not.

Melted Ice Cream and Macaroni Art – pocky_slash

Summary: Everybody likes Charles. Nobody likes Erik. And that's really the source of Erik's doubts. Also, there's ice cream and a baby. Part of ‘the Daycare’ verse.

Walling in or Walling Out – stlkrchck

Summary: Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

(Wise Men Say) Only Fools Rush In – wildelybroken

Summary: After reading a fic where Erik and Charles are super sluts, meet at what is presumably Raven and Emma's engagement party, and end up sleeping together, I made the following comment and just inspired myself.

"They start casually texting each other throughout the day, maybe while they’re bored or frustrated at work, and start out meeting up and sleeping together semi-frequently. And eventually they accidentally start dating without noticing it at first, not until Raven and Emma get them alone and are like “wtf you two super sluts are actually dating??” And at first they deny, but then they’re both like “holy shit, we are!” And they meet back at one of their places and they don’t have to say anything, they just look at each other and come together immediately, kissing passionately and ~making love~. In the middle of it they realise that’s what they’ve been doing for a long time now and they confess their love to each other and they live happily ever after because they deserve all the good in the world."

For Charles – Shigai

Summary: Tired of being told he has to find his 'heart', classical piano graduate Erik Lehnsherr decides to travel to Italy and drink from the famous Italian passion for music. While searching for it, he meets Charles Xavier, a graduate in Fine Arts who is basically travelling around the world perfectioning his technique, and who will turn his world upside down.

Together they will discover that, sometimes, what you thought you didn't need is what you needed the most.

Erik Hates People – Anonymous

Summary: Erik hates people- it's his rule, a way of living.

Sugar – humanitys_cutest

Summary: Erik glances at the clock for what feels like the tenth time in less than half the minutes. It feels like he's been in some meeting or other since the day started almost 10 hours ago, and he's had just about enough of listening to these pompous old men discuss what would be the best design for his building like they know anything about it. He tries as subtly as possible to massage his temples to assuage the building migraine, but he knows it's no use.

He just wants to go home.

Everyone Likes Charles – Rosawyn

Summary: '“Everyone who's met him likes him.” Cain's grin was even stupider than before. “Once you meet him, you'll see.”

It was almost like a challenge then. And damn. Erik hated saying no to a challenge.'

Still Going Strong – JackyJango

Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.

Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.

You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.

But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.

All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed – hllfire

Summary: Charles meets Erik, the man he had heard about many times from his sister and some friends, on a rainy Sunday morning. The stories about Erik paint him as a distant and intimidating man, but Charles finds out that maybe the stories had been wrong.

How to Successfully Ruin Your Life – humanveil

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier accepts a job at his local café, expecting nothing more than a fun, new pastime. What he gets is a mysterious customer and a schoolboy crush.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – magneto, pangea

Summary:Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea

Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.

“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"

“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”

[god1ngs]

━‎ end of the world

synopsis; a forbidden love told for generations

contains; human reader, major character death, swearing, mentions of war, spoilers

god c!technoblade / reader, 3.4k wc

note; the title doesn't make much sense but whatever lol ,, this is for @mayasimagines 's 600 event! congratulations and i hope you like this :)

   throughout the fall of countries, the crumbling of empires, there stood a man. he gazed upon the vast land, the grass stained red. buildings had crashed down, debris staining the area around them. they layed in heaps of piles, taller than most. the fallen down buildings had been a sign of the empire's loss.

   there was no one alive to commemorate the loss however.

   screaming rung inside of his head, shouting and yelling, with some other tones mixed in. displeased and ecstatic and mocking tones blended together, sounds of chaos lingering in the mind of the man. he only sighed, walking away from the destroyed country.

   he's seen this happen too many times before, the repetitive cycle of watching a country build itself only to come crashing down years later. they never lasted long. always the one for chaos, he sometimes participated in the destruction of the countries, though most times he didn't need to.

   humans were savage, brutal creatures who only cared about themselves. by studying their nature, the way they go about certain scenarios, he had figured out that much. selfish, twisted beings who would betray each other in a heartbeat. all it took was more wealth or a promise of better gear.

   how easily swayed they were. technoblade sneered, his red cape dragging beneath him as he stalked the hallways. pillars of quartz, chipped at the edges from years of standing, lined the hallway. they reached the ceiling, some even going higher. the magnificent red carpet he stalked down had ended at a throne.

   a throne made of gold, the shiniest material he could get his servants to find. emeralds and diamonds and rubies lined the top of it, the same jewels lining the gold of his crown. at last, he sat down, the voices calming down at the familiar seating area. they always got loud whenever there was destruction.

   technoblade, the blood god. also known as the god of war and chaos to many, he wasn't very popular among the peaceful people. people often worshipped him for protection, to which he rarely granted. protection from him, a god of war, was seldom. often he didn't care about the hunans enough to waste his protection on them.

   yet, one mortal, had caught his eye. they were nothing too special, middle class and usually someone technoblade wouldn't even spare a glance at. they were different though. they outshined any ray of sun, their smile proving to be the brighter of the two. he found them, despite all odds, very interesting.

   later, after wine and more sparring, the man had caught wind of philza coming over. philza, the angel of death, had been one of technoblade's good allies, even so far as to consider the blond a friend. he brought saints to their knees in their final moments, allowing them either an eternity in hell or a peaceful life above.

   he wanted to meet them, and technoblade always gets what he wants.

   even before technoblade had become the god he is now, forever cursed to watch humanity rip itself apart, he knew philza. the two fought wars together, never straying from their path of loyalty. the blond perched himself on the windowsill, his striking white wings folding on his back, as he smiled at the other. "hello technoblade." he greeted, ever the polite man.

   technoblade only scoffed, shaking his head with an amused grin. "please, phil," he drawled, looking from his red wine to the angel of death. "no need for the formalities. just call me techno." the blond threw his head back with a laugh, wide smile painting his features as the other chuckled. "of course, mate."

   silence washed over the pair for a moment, a comforting silence that allowed them to bask in the moment od seeing each other. they didn't get to visit often, one thing they mutually hated about being in the sky palace, usually swamped with other duties. philza with guiding people to the afterlife, and technoblade with causing conflict.

   "i actually wanted to talk about somethin' with ya, mate." phil broke the silence, hopping off of the marble windowsill to come lean against one of the pillars. the pink haired man, ever so interested, hummed questionably. "and what did you want to speak to me about? come on, spit it out." the man said, looking down at philza.

   he sighed, glancing up at technoblade. "you've been acting off, mate. less wars are starting, and that's weird for you. i know you also started protecting that one mortal. fuck, what was their name?" he murmured, brows furrowed. technoblade sighed in annoyance, not wanting to be pestered with questions.

   "[name]." he answered phil quietly, not bothering to look back at the blond man. the clouds danced with each other in the sky, entertwining and morphing with each other freely. sometimes he wishes he could be as free as the clouds. "you know," phil said, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. the blood god could only dread what he was going to say. "rumor has it that gods only protect mortals they're interested in."

   the teasing, despite only being light hearted, had a quizzical undertone. while technoblade had been acting strange, protecting somebody was something phil had never expected. either something was special about that mortal and their family, or someone had begun fantasizing. he could only hope it wasn't the latter.

   with more conversation, technoblade denying any feelings blooming for a human, phil left to go do his job. he was alone with his thoughts, the voices making him tug at his own hair to keep them quiet. they craved the mortal, despite how much he willed himself to stay in his throne room, the man had to go see them.

   it was a normal day for you. nothing was different, much less weird. it was only normal, a basket of bread in your hands as you walked home. you hummed as you stepped on the path, enjoying the peaceful walk back to your house. you were content with your life, having a few people and more deaths than you could count.

   and see them he would.

   you partially blamed philza, the angel of death, for the passing of your loved ones, but you also knew he wasn't the one to kill them. he simply took them to the afterlife, guiding them to where they would spend the rest of their days. the deaths in your family had piled up, mostly from war and some of falling ill.

   you spent your days worshipping gods now. you were always the lonely type, choosing to stay by yourself rather than interact with others. you never minded the comforting embrace of being alone, the silence enveloping you at every given moment. it provided you with a sense of comfort you couldn't get anywhere else.

   while you did worship other gods, you mostly worshipped technoblade. he was the primary god, you giving up all your offerings to him ─ ranging from bread to trinkets to gold galore. the tales of the blood god, always grand stories with daring adventures that had you on the edge of your seat, had always intrigued you.

   your favorite, the one you read the most to the slim amount of people you did contact, was the tale of the butcher army. when he was human, a detail that many didn't know whether to believe or not, he blew up many countries. it hinted at the start of him being the god of war many years later. for punishment, the butcher army hunted him down.

   they lied to the man, once they had captured him, in which they had prepared for his execution. some say he died that day, only to be revived due to the gods holy whim; others say he had never died, and broke out of the iron bars to kill the men who had hunted him down. learning about the magnificent god, a god you admired, had faced an army of four and won, allowed you to admire him even further.

   once you got home, setting down your basket of bread, you had sighed. you always liked coming home, your safe space filling you with a joy like no other. the everlasting comfort of your home, a familiar place you longed to be at constantly, helped you feel safe. the comforting feeling of being home at last filled you at peace.

   until it wasn't so peaceful anymore.

   from your kitchen came a clanging noise. there were a few grunts followed afterwards, your eyes wide. fear flooded your system, nervousness coursing through your veins. you stayed silent, hoping you'd either been dreaming or had been imagining sounds. however, once a voice spoke, you knew that was not the case.

   from your kitchen came, with his red cape dragging behind him, technoblade. you stammered, confusion replacing your previous nervousness. your grip came loose on the item you were holding, not being able to process what you were seeing. "well this is awkward." the god stated, putting your kitchen utensils he had just knocked down back on your counter.

   if anything, this was awkward. very awkward. who expected a god to come through their kitchen window? "uh, do you," you stuttered, voice measily yet you still tried to fight it out. "do you mind telling me why you're here?" it was more than odd to see a god in your kitchen, the sight one hard to believe for even yourself.

   technoblade had sighed, draping himself over your couch cushions as if he lived there. his arms, unlike your bare ones, spread across the back of your couch, the sight making you nearly sigh. "well, mortal, i had taken intrest in you." he answered bluntly, your mind still reeling from the fact that he was even here, but taking interest in you? no, this had to be some kind of joke.

   the visible confusion highlighting your features made the god chuckle. it was amusing, seeing the looks on mortals' faces whenever something odd or unexplainable happened. "what's so confusing? i took interest in you, and so i came down here to see you." the blood god explained, shrugging his shoulders. the confusion you felt only worsened.

   why was the question. why was a god in your house? why had he taken interest in you? you shook your head, suddenly feeling lightheaded. "sorry, i need to sit down." you muttered, trying to regain your footing. you sat down, going slowly as to not pass out in front of him. "so," you spoke up as soon as you had calmed down. "why have you taken interest in me?"

   a cloud of silence loomed over the two of you, technoblade falling into his thoughts. why had he taken interest in you? there was no particular shining traits in you, even if he studied you as if you had carved out the world with your own hands; he watched you as if you had brung down a fantastic reign upon everybody.

   "who knows?" he wondered aloud, a hum of amusement following his words. technoblade didn't know the reason for it, and despite itching with curiosity, he didn't bother trying to find out. he only let it be, coming to terms with the fact that you, a mortal, had piqued his interest. you kept him entertained, and that's all that mattered.

   after the two of you talking more, you still trying to get over the shock that the blood god was in your home, you had to say that he was fairly a nice guy. maybe he was kinder than all of the other ones, however you've never crossed paths with a god either, so you couldn't tell. when technoblade had stood up, braided hair falling against your couch, you knew it was time for him to go.

   he turned to look down on you, his towering figure highly intimidating. there was a reason he was feared across nations. he stared at you for a second, maybe deciding on what to say, though you couldn't tell with his blank expression. the man only sighed, wishing you a good day, and then turned to leave.

   "you've got me interested, technoblade."

   you only spoke to the god more after the first encounter. seconds turned into minutes and then minutes turned to hours. he was an interesting guy, choosing which emotion to show and when to show it. perhaps it came with being a god. as he came by more, each visit surprising you, you only talked to him more.

   "as you've got me, [name]."

   soon he started telling you stories. the butcher army, the l'manberg war, how he met philza. he told you great things of philza, the angel of death, so much so you nearly stopped disliking philza. you were always interested in his stories though, no matter how long or how action packed. each further lured you in to his grasp.

   technoblade, however, had stopped visiting so often. with more conflict arising everyday, he didn't have as much time to visit you anymore ─ philza was starting to catch on as well. how he wasn't home as often or how he lied to philza each time he asked him where he was. he was getting suspicious, and wanted answers quickly.

   philza confronted technoblade on this issue a while later. his wings puffed up confidently, he was so sure something was going on with his eldest friends, the edges torn at the seams. "technoblade." he addressed politely, standing in front of his throne once again, as he did not so long ago. he would get answers out of him.

   technoblade only sighed, his cheek pressed against his closed fists as he stared at philza. "yes, philza?" he asked, voice heavy with exhaustion. the recent wars, as much as he loved the excitement and panic that came with it, have been too tiring for him. he also couldn't visit you that morning, only pissing him off more.

   "have you been seeing the mortal you told me you had interest in?"

   silence crashed over the room, violent in its malicious intent. phil's questioned nipped at the blood god, desperately pleading for an answer. philza sighed, one of disappointment and perhaps even anger. the silence was enough of an answer. "mate, are you kidding me?"

   technoblade merely sighed, eyes narrowing at the blond. "you have no say on who i take interest in, phil. that is none of your concern." he dismissed the blond, turning back to look at the window. philza had no say in what technoblade done with his life, no matter how long the two have been friends.

   "none of my concern? mate, they're a mortal and you're a god! hell, the blood god! for fucks sake, mate, you can't be seeing mortals!" philza snapped, brows furrowed and cheeks red from anger. the trouble a god could get in from seeing a mortal was irredeemable.

   if technoblade got caught with the mortal, he would lose not only his titles, but his life. he would be executed.

   technoblade merely scoffed however, rolling his eyes. "as if i'll get caught, philza. those laws are stupid anyways. what, are you going to tell on me?" he arched his brows at the angel of death, sneering at him. how dare he barge into his temple and then go off at him; a beloved friend of his.

   however, the mortal was too intresting to not keep seeing. he may of even caught feelings. how laughable ─ the blood god, feared across empires, falling for a mere mortal. philza only sighed, rubbing his temples. he weighed his options: technoblade could continue seeing the mortal, get caught, and then both of them get in trouble.

   or philza could tell the council. tell them of his affairs, tell them why he hasn't been here as often. once more, a vicious silence swept over them. only for a moment, for philza had declared:

   "if you don't stop seeing this mortal, i'll have no choice but to stop it. don't make me do it, mate."

   his evening visit was late that night. you had already prepared dinner, setting it up for when he was to arrive. from what he's told you, he hasn't had human food in a long time. he told you that gods didn't need to eat nor sleep. you had decided to make him food for when he comes, wanting him to have food even if he doesn't need it.

   the gust of wind from deceiving angel wings swept across his face. messy hair cascaded over his face, and for once, the blood god had found a problem he didn't know he could solve.

   ten minutes. twenty minutes. thirty minutes. you sighed at the mocking tick of the clock, each passing second being another sign that he wasn't going to come. perhaps he had better things to do. frowning, you began to gather the food up, knowing you wouldn't eat it all, before the familiar two knocks came at your door.

   rushing over, once you had opened it, you were surprised to see something different than you were used to.

   technoblade was there, but he looked different. more angry, perhaps even upset.

   worried, you frowned at the god. "are you okay?" you asked, hoping the man was alright. the god only nodded, staring at the ground. he came back to you after a moment of silence, sighing. "yes, just got caught up in some things. nothing for you to be concerned of." he said, brushing you off before you could even speak.

   when technoblade had gone back to his temple, rubbing his temples with a sigh, something unexpected had greeted him. there was philza, perched on the window with a firm look of coldness. "visiting the mortal again, were you, mate?" he asked once he had came into view. technoblade had half a mind to tell him to fuck off.

   that night provided a great distraction from what would come the following days.

   no words were spoken from technoblade afterwards. the betrayal of another friend, a promise to do something about his meetings, had wounded him. he didn't want to lose philza, but also had begun to realise something ─ he had caught feelings for the mortal.

   for you, who had been the sunshine on his darkest days. call it a cliche, but technoblade truly didn't know happiness if you weren't by his side. having watched countless deaths and falls of kingdoms over the many, many years of being alive, the man had never found as great of a comfort than by your side. you were the sun to his moon, a forever shining force to his immortal darkness.

   though the moon and sun are destined to never touch.

   that night, philza had technoblade bring him to your house under promise of telling the council. they had shown up to your house late at night, when the world was asleep. it had been abrupt, the two males coming into your home. you were shaking, scared as to what this meant. the angel of death and the blood god inside your home could mean nothing good.

   and you were right. that night, that forsaken night, technoblade had been cursed in front of your eyes. the wide eyed look on his face, the shock of what a former friend could do. you tried to reach out for him, but were stopped by philza. he permitted you to stay still, or else your blood would be on your walls.

   "technoblade, the blood god and the god of war, i hereby sentence you to an eternity of reincarnation. as long as you are alive, your lover, [name] [last name], will be killed and reincarnated. only ever letting you get close enough to hardly touch them."

   your words were caught in your throat, the cruel punishment knocking the wind out of you. philza's eyes shone, bright in an unholy way, rising up with his wings behind him. technoblade had felt the burning sensation of a marking, a forever sign of the curse, on the side of his neck. a flower had been burnt into the side of his neck, your favorite flower.

   "i'm sorry, technoblade." were the last words you heard before a sword made of light had stabbed through your stomach.

   the blood god had frantically scooped up your body in his arms, panicking for the first time since you've seen him. he tried to get you to say anything, although the words were too hard to say, no matter how hard you tried to get them out. he reassured you would be okay, despite knowing the inevitable would happen.

   "you should've listened to him ... heh, you're a dumbass, you know that?"

   you took your last breath seconds later.

[lonely-lost-soul]

First Lady of the Court Pt. II

(Wilbur Soot x Reader) Part I, Part II, Part III

Part 2: Moments

      The first time Tubbo snuck you out of the city it was like a breath of fresh air. Schlatt was on your last nerve while you tried to keep everything else together. Your duties included collecting unfair taxes, answering questions from concerned citizens, getting Schlatt cigars and booze but you tried to keep your main focus on watching over Fundy. While Fundy was on Schlatt’s side now you still wanted to keep an eye on him for Wilbur, trying to sow the seed that this wasn’t the best decision in the world. Plus Fundy always saw you as a mother figure so you hoped you had a little bit of influence over him and his actions. Although you never wanted to replace Sally, his actual mom, he still looked up to you like one and you treated him as a son. You let the breeze tickle your cheeks as Tubbo led you towards Pogtopia, you were disappointed seeing you were now headed inside of a cave and couldn’t stay in the fresh air. Did they need to make their base an underground bunker? You supposed that logically, it did make the most sense, considering they were in hiding from the government. 

      “Be careful okay?” Tubbo smiled over at you, “There are no railings or anything I don’t want you to fall. I think Wilbur would kill me!” You nodded as he led you down the steps of the cavern, you were in awe at the lights that were set up all around you. It was amazing what they managed to do in such a short amount of time. While you were away from the boys Tubbo managed to fill you in on who Technoblade was and would constantly update you on what Tommy and Wilbur were up to. You couldn’t wait to experience everything they created in person. “Hey, guys it’s me!” Tubbo shouted his voice echoing off the walls of the cave, “I brought a surprise.” He flashed a big smile in your direction, his eyebrows wiggling at you suggestively. 

       “A surprise?” Tommy raised an eyebrow stepping out into the open and once he caught sight of you he let out a loud shrieking laugh. He ran over and tossed his arms around your neck, you were much shorter than him so the hug was a little awkward but you appreciated it nonetheless. 

      “Hi, Tommy. I missed you too.” You hugged him back with a squeeze and a soft giggle of your own, “You holding up okay?”

      “I’m gonna be much better when we get Manburg back from Schlatt’s clutches. God, it’s so good to see you, women, I can’t believe I’m saying that! Wilbur’s gonna lose his shit! WILBUR GET IN HERE!” 

      “Shut up Tommy I’m coming, I’m coming.” Wilbur groaned walking into the room, his trenchcoat floating behind him. “What exactly is so important. I was in the middle of something rather importannnnnnn- (Y/N),” He sputtered jaw-dropping as he saw you. You looked just as beautiful as he last remembered you, the bags under your eyes were new, as was the suit, but other than that you were the epitome of a goddess in his eyes. Meanwhile, he looked like a homeless mess covered in dirt and grime, hair a greasy mess, clothes tattered. Wilbur never wanted to die more than he did at this moment. 

You didn’t care about any of that though he was still your Wilbur, you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was. “Hey, Wilby long time no see.”  You walked up to him and wrapped him in a hug, you pressed your head to his chest, “I missed you so much.” Your voice was soft, as you squeezed your eyes shut, you felt the ex-president tense up in your hold. 

Oh god did he smell? He totally smelled. Wilbur prayed that he didn’t smell, could you tell how fast his heart was beating? He hesitantly ran a hand through your hair and caressed it softly, it was just as soft as he remembered. He missed it more than he ever would’ve imagined.

      “I missed you too my darling,” He whispered, “so much. You have no idea.” Wilbur looked up to see the smirking faces of Tommy and Tubbo and his face turned bright red. They both were mouthing ‘simp’ at him, well it was more Tommy than Tubbo but still. He glared at his companions and pulled away from you, “Let’s go talk in private okay?” You tried to turn around to glance behind you but Wilbur only dragged you away so you couldn’t get a good look at the teenagers. As soon as the two of you were alone Wilbur cupped your cheeks and pressed an almost desperate kiss against your lips. You sighed happily into it, grabbing the collar of his trench coat to hold him close to you. Wilbur rested his head against your own and after a few minutes of silence he finally spoke up, “How’re you doing?” 

      “Usually that’s asked before you kiss.” A smirk was planted on your lips as you reached up and twirled his curls between your fingers. He burned red up to the tips of his ears and he nudged you while scoffing, “I’m hanging in there Wilbur. I’m stronger than I look, remember that.” 

      “And Fundy?” Wilbur asked a bit hesitantly, “I’m sure he has no desire to know about me and I guess I don’t deserve to know about him but even so…”

      “He’s doing good...he’s very… I guess confused is the right word. He’s desperately trying to gain Schlatt’s approval, I think he just to make someone proud-”

      “I’m proud of him!” Wilbur tried to argue and you shushed him softly, 

      “I know Will, I know. But does he know that?” You raised an eyebrow as he shrunk in on himself. “I’m looking out for him though so try not to worry, he still seems to tolerate me.” Wilbur looked relieved at the fact that you were still in Fundy’s good graces and were keeping an eye on him. 

      “You’re an angel, (Y/N). When this is over I’m gonna marry the shit out of you.” 

      “Oh stop.” You tossed your head back with a laugh, your (h/c) hair falling in front of your eyes shyly. Wilbur could only smile at you as he pushed your hair out of your face to kiss your nose. 

      “Now tell me everything you know about Schlatt and his band of misfits.” 

---

The second time you snuck out with Tubbo was the day before Schlatt’s festival. Tubbo spent the entire day decorating for it and with your help, the both of you managed to get the decorations up in a timely manner. Sometime after the preparations were complete Tommy requested to meet up with Tubbo. Immediately you pleaded with Tubbo to let you go with him but he seemed very hesitant to let you join. He told you that the last time he visited Pogtopia Wilbur was acting very strange and he didn’t want you to get hurt by him in any form. You were flattered that you had him looking out for you but you assured him that Wilbur would never hurt you and that talking to you might be positive for his mental health. Tubbo gave you a tense smile and interlocked his hand with yours, 

      “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

      “I won't, I promise. Plus I’ll have you to protect me if anything goes wrong.” 

      “I appreciate that but I am very weak,” Tubbo sheepishly smiled scratching at his chin, his face turning slightly pink. You tossed your head back and laughed, as you squeezed his hand tightly, 

      “Okay, I’ll look out for both of us then.” 

You both had to sneak past an overzealous Fundy who wanted mother-son bonding time but eventually, you shook him off your scent and made your way into Pogtopia. Tubbo called out your arrival and once again Tommy beat Wilbur in greeting you at the entrance. You frowned seeing that he looked a little worse for wear, the bags under his eyes were darker and a clear indicator that he wasn’t sleeping very well. Your motherly instincts kicked in automatically at that moment as you cupped his cheeks in your hands. He made a groan of protest but didn’t pull away from the warm embrace of your hands. 

      “You look like you haven’t been sleeping, what’s been going on?” You asked and Tommy looked hesitant to tell you which worried you, even more, no one was giving you a straight answer but it all revolved around Wilbur. 

      “(Y/n)!” Wilbur called as Tommy opened his mouth to answer your question, “It’s so good to see you!” He grabbed you by the waist and drew you into a deep kiss, you couldn’t help but smile into it, you loved this man. “So much has happened, I can’t wait to catch you up. Come, come, let’s talk.” Wilbur led you down the long corridors of Pogtopia, from behind you both Tommy and Tubbo frowned in worry. 

      “Will she be alright?” Tubbo looked up at his tall friend, 

      “Obviously she's a badass.” Tommy scoffed but Tubbo knew him long enough to tell that he was just as worried about the girl as he was. 

      “I missed you, Wilby.” The soft tone in your voice seemed to make Wilbur melt into you, but there was something in his eyes that made you pause. You bit your lip as he placed his hand on your cheek, they were rougher than you remembered but then again it was to be expected. He also smelled like cigarette smoke and wood, the smoke was new and wasn’t necessarily too terrible. After all, you’ve dealt with Schlatt’s smell of alcohol and cigars for months at this point. 

      “I missed you too my darling, but things have been finally coming up Wilbur. It’s amazing and I know we didn’t get invited to the festival tomorrow but it doesn’t even matter.” Wilbur hummed stroking your cheek with his thumb, “Cause something is going to happen that’s going to change everything.” You tilted your head to the side in confusion, 

       “What do you mean? I mean shit Will I’m happy for you, I want the bastard out of power as soon as possible. He’s an absolute mess.” You gave an awkward laugh, “at this point Tubbo, Quackity and I are running things.” 

Wilbur didn’t seem to find that as funny as you did considering that his smile turned into a bitter frown, “He’s ruined everything I built, it’s disgusting.”

      “Shit.” You gave another uncomfortable laugh and crossed your arms, “I wouldn’t say he’s ruined everything. After all the country you built is still standing, right now it may have a different name but it’s still there, the people who love it are still there-”

      “Tommy and I aren’t.” He snarled at you and you flinched backward in response, you waited for an apology but you didn’t get one. “The people who loved it, who made it what it was aren’t there anymore. They didn’t care about it as I did. It’s MY country,” You glared at him and crossed your arms, your jaw was set in place. 

      “Excuse me?” 

      “You heard me.” 

       “Okay just making sure.” You wound your hand back and punched him in the stomach, not hard but just enough to stun him, “you son of a bitch! How DARE you insinuate that Tubbo and I don’t care about L’manberg as you and Tommy did. We all lost a life in the control room to Eret! We fought beside you against Dream for the revolution so the country you dreamed of could even come to fruition! We’ve done our best to keep everyone happy when everyone under Schlatt is fucking miserable and you know what we’ve done a damn good job of it! You’re insinuating that Niki and Fundy’s struggles have met nothing to you either, we’ve fought just as much as you have. This isn’t a competition.”

       “You’re wrong. It is a competition because it’s MY country!” He grabbed your shoulders, nails digging into the skin, you kissed your teeth in pain. You supposed the pain was justifiable considering you had just knocked him in the stomach. “MY country that isn’t MINE anymore, what’s the point in it even standing!” 

       “What…?” 

       “What’s the point in it even standing.” He smiled wickedly moving your hand to brush your hair out of your eyes, suddenly scarily gentle with you, “(Y/N) don’t you get it? The solution was right there the entire time. We blow it up!” 

       “WE WHAT?! Wilbur are you nuts! People live there, I live there! So does your son? If you blow it up Schlatt’s won!”

      “No, I win. We win.” He purred leaning close to rest his head against your own, “We can start a family afterward. You know my love like we always wanted...after everything after the smoke clears. We can be together-”

      “Wilbur.” 

      “We can kiss in the remnants of what once was. Then we rebuild something new, something grand-” 

      “No.” Your voice quivered in fear, “Wilbur that’s not what I want.” The smile was wiped off his face and his brows furrowed. 

      “Sorry? Come again?” 

      “I don’t want it to be gone. I want it as it was-”       “IT CAN NEVER BE WHAT IT WAS! CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT!” He slammed you up against the walls of the ravine, you let out a choking gasp as pain shot down the back of your skull and your spine. A brief glance of old Wilbur flitted across his face, he pulled away from you watching you sink down onto the floor. “I...darling I’m so sorry.” He whispered softly, his hands shaking at his sides, “I never meant to hurt you. Please know that. I’d never hurt you.” Wilbur reached his arm out and you flinched, a heartbroken look spread across his face. “Please...I can’t lose you-” He paused as you raised your hand in a stopping motion, 

      “Wilbur. You blow up that country, and we’re done.”

      “That’s not fair-”

      “Me or the country. Your choice.” You snarled, baring your teeth as you rose to your feet, “I love you. So fucking much but I won’t STAND being treated like I’m garbage.”

      “You’re not garbage. You’re not you’re my entire world. I-I’m doing this for you and for Fundy and for everyone-”

      “You’re doing this for yourself you prick!”

      “Am I interrupting something?” Tubbo murmured finally coming into the room, 

      “Yes-NO.” Both you and Wilbur said simultaneously, you both glared at one another as Tubbo’s ears flattened against his skull.

      “We have to go.” Tubbo spoke up, “Schlatt will get worried. Let’s go (Y/N).” 

      “We aren’t done- (Y/N) please.” Wilbur reached out to you and you shook his arm free from it. You glared back at him and walked past Tubbo, 

      “Let’s go. See you soon Wilbur.” With one last glance at Wilbur, Tubbo followed you out of Pogtopia. 

---

The third time you saw Wilbur was the day of the festival. Schlatt had tricked you all, Tubbo’s head was pressed against your chest as you both were trapped inside his execution box. He had found the both of you out and decided it was the perfect time to get his revenge for your treasonous acts. You were staring death straight in the eyes, and the almost hesitant eyes of Technoblade stared right back at you. 

      “I’m sorry. I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.” His smooth voice echoed through the chamber, Tubbo only clutched onto you harder. 

      “Technoblade please.” He tried to plead with the pigman, and Schlatt only cackled loudly in response. Technoblade closed his eyes and shot, you heard a loud snap of the crossbow and saw colors beyond your wildest imagination; in between the chaos you swore you saw a flash of Tommy and hear a cry from Wilbur. You woke up in bed, one single heart levitating above your chest, two cannon lives down, your ears were still ringing from the fireworks moments prior. ‘Tubbo…’ You thought squeezing your eyes tightly, ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you…’ You tossed your legs over the side of the bed quickly tumbling out of it, Tubbo burst through your door moments later. Anxiety was written all over his face but even he knew now wasn’t the time to talk about your interconnected trauma. “We have to go. NOW.” Tubbo motioned to the door with his head, you stood up grabbing what you could momentarily, and ran. The both of you sprinted past a devastated looking Fundy, you made the mistake of looking behind you as he let out a soft, 

      “Mom?” 

You closed your eyes and turned away from the fox hybrid, not before mouthing an ‘I’m sorry,’ in his direction. Tubbo dragged you behind him all the way back to Pogtopia both of you eerily quiet the entire way. Entering the ravine the first thing you heard was Tommy’s ferocious yelling, Tubbo flinched a little and rushed away to comfort his friend the best he could. You noticed Wilbur was scarily silent, as you approached you saw how small his pupils were, the smile on his face was nothing less than mad. It turned your stomach but even so, you wanted comfort from someone you loved, you took his hand and squeezed. Still smiling he looked down at you and kissed the top of your head. It didn’t take a genius to understand he was oddly enthused with what went down between Schlatt, Tubbo and you, the man you once loved was gone.

      “My darling, I’m glad to see you’re alright.” 

      “Do whatever you want. Blow it up.” Your voice was icy and soft so only he could hear you, “Fuck it.” 

Wilbur’s smile widened and he kissed you passionately, he tasted like smoke and it was so overwhelming it burned your eyes and almost choked you. He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours,

      “You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say those words. You won’t regret this I promise.” He turned towards Tommy and the Blade with the damned smile still on his cheeks, you didn’t respond to him. You felt gross, this isn’t what you wanted, you only hoped when the time came you would convince him otherwise. He began to go on and on about a pit, and a fight between Technoblade and Tommy; supposedly in you and Tubbo’s honor. You watch the two climb into it, even though you knew Tommy was going to get his ass kicked you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Even when The Blade won and Tommy was getting patched up by Niki you could only stare at the flickering torches on the wall, the only person to be able to pull you out of your stupor was in fact, Tubbo. 

      “(Y/N) it’s gonna be alright. I promise.” You gave a tired nod, stroking his hair fondly he let out a soft whine. “You’re scaring me a little, I don’t like that you’re so silent.”

      “I know Tubbo. I know. Everything will work out one way or another. We just have to have hope.” You spoke, but your tone was anything but comforting, it was flat and it chilled Tubbo’s core. He wouldn’t let you turn out like Wilbur not if he had anything to say in the matter. 

---

It was finally the day of the Manburg vs Pogtopia war, surprisingly the rebellion had earned a lot more members than you had originally expected. Obviously, you had your core members, Technoblade, Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, and obviously Wilbur and you. However, it seemed Quackity was done with Schlatt’s bullshit just like everyone else, Fundy saw the error of his ways and fought by your and Wilbur’s side as did Eret. As everyone gathered around to discuss the plan, Fundy got your attention with a snap of his fingers, you blinked turning towards him. 

      “Hi, little champion...how’re you doing?” You smiled towards him ruffling his bright orange hair. He frowned swatting your hands away with a disgruntled huff, 

      “I’m alright. How’re you doing?” It seemed Tubbo wasn’t the only one worried about your mental health, Fundy’s frown only worsened. “My dad’s a dick.” 

      “Fundy-”

      “No. No, he is and you know it. He’s changed (Y/N), don’t follow him down that path...please. I need you. I can’t lose you too...” Your eyebrows furrowed and you smiled sadly, his words touched your heart and you felt nothing but fondness for the young man. You reached out and cupped his cheek with your hand, his eyes lit up and he nuzzled into it almost desperately. 

       “You haven’t lost me yet and you won't lose me today.” You assured and he let out a soft breath of relief, “I’m going to do all I can to save your father. I know he can bounce back from this, but if I can’t.” A watery look came across your face and Fundy kissed your forehead quickly,

      “I’ll be there to help pick you back up. So will Tubbo we all love you.” 

      “Thank you little champion.” You spoke, a smile spreading across your lips, his tail began to wag insanely fast. “You stay safe today too, I don’t want to see you hurt or worse.”

      “I will. Now come on Technoblade apparently has something to show us.” Fundy hummed holding out his arm for you to take, you did so joining the others. Once you all were gathered Technoblade led everyone to what he called ‘the vault,’ and the vault it certainly was. Everyone was equally as shocked at the sheer amount of gear The Blade managed to gather in such a short amount of time. There were Netherite weapons and armor and in almost every chest were potions and bows for the entire milita. Everyone made a mad dash towards the chests gathering whatever artillery they could find, and taking it for themselves. You made sure all the kids and Fundy were suited up and geared properly before taking what you could for yourself, there was some Netherite left which you applied to your body, you also grabbed an ax and a crossbow of your own. You glanced over at Wilbur and saw him bare, no weapon or armor insight, you furrowed your brow in concern and shook his arm gently. He glanced over you with a hint of the tender expression he used to always look at you with, it made your heartbreak. 

      “Wilby?” 

      “Hm?” 

      “No armor?” You questioned and he brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face. 

      “No. I won’t need it,” Wilbur hummed as you gave a disbelieving scoff. He chuckled a little at your disbelief and nudged your shoulder, “Trust me. Everything’s going to work out.”

You could only nod your head in understanding even if you truly did not understand his reasoning. The battle was long and bloody, tearing apart Schlatt’s allies was no easy task but Pogtopia managed to get them to surrender. You couldn’t help but be hesitant and suspicious, it wasn’t like Dream to just call off his forces and surrender so easily. You’ve fought against him enough times now to know that, yet Wilbur seemed unperturbed. Even when you all had Schlatt cornered Wilbur only seemed to get a little bit of glee from it, only seeming to feel more when the old ram had a heart attack and keeled over. You all had won but you didn’t feel good. You didn’t feel like it was over, not even when Wilbur took your hands and kissed them lightly on top of the podium beside Tommy and him. It did come as a surprise to you when Wilbur gave up power in favor of handing it off to Tommy, then Tommy gave it up for Tubbo, Tubbo began to give a nervous speech and you couldn’t help but be proud of him. Tubbo would make a great president much better than Schlatt ever was and maybe even better than Wilbur. Tubbo was warm and compassionate he might not even need your assistance as the first lady, honestly, you didn’t even know if you wanted the title again. Although any thoughts of happiness were wiped away as your stomach churned seeing Wilbur sneak away from the crowd, that wasn’t good. 

You followed behind your boyfriend on high alert, it’s not that you didn’t trust him, it was just that he was clinically insane. Eventually, Wilbur entered a small room that was cold and dark, you took a deep breath before stepping inside behind him. Your eyes widened in absolute horror, nonsensical scribbles were all over the walls and in the middle of the room sat a familiar button, chills rocketed down your spine. The setup of the room was an all too familiar sight, Eret’s words echoed through your mind and you felt the burn of betrayal run hot. Wilbur’s hands hovered over the button with a longing smile, caressing it like it was the face of his lover. You reached your arm out to call to him but felt a tight hand come around your waist, 

      “What’re you doing?” 

Shock flooded through your system as you looked up at the man touching you. It was Phil, Wilbur’s father, you had only met the man briefly a few times so you both had knowledge of one another's existence. 

      “Phil?” Wilbur turned around his jaw clenching, “(Y/N)? Shit,” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “You're both trying to gang up on me, that’s just unfair.” He leaned his head back, his beautiful curls falling around his face as he stared at the ceiling. “Do you know what this button is?”

      “Uh-huh. I do.” Phil gruffly stated his big grey wings curling around you protectively. 

      “Have you heard... the song? On the walls? Before? Have you heard the song? I was just saying, I made this big point, it was poignant, and it's um... There was a special place where men could go, but it's not there anymore y'know, it's not-” Wilbur let out a frustrated sigh punching the wall right next to the button. You jumped a little as Phil cut in, 

      “It is there. You've just- You've just won it back, Wil!” 

      “Phil’s right! Wilbur, we did it together, we don’t need to blow it up anymore! We can be happy!” 

      “(Y/N), PHIL, I'M ALWAYS SO CLOSE to pressing this button, Phil! I've BEEN HERE like seven or eight times, I've been here seven or eight times...Phil, I've been here so many times…” All of you jumped a little at the sound of crackling fireworks outside, your body went numb as you remembered the execution, “They're fighting. They're fighting!” Phil and you glanced at one another, there was a beat of silence. 

      “And you want to just blow it all up.”

       “I do,-” Wilbur started before letting out a frustrated sigh, “I think, I-”

       “You fought so hard to get this land back... So hard.”

       “We all did Wilby. Please listen to us.” You pleaded and he flinched at your tone, it was so tender and loving. He didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve your forgiveness. 

        “I don't even know if it works anymore, Phil, I don't even know if the button works, I could, I could... press it.” 

       “Do you really wanna take that risk?” Phil laughed, “There is a lot of TNT potentially connected to that button.” 

       “Phil... There was a saying, Phil. By a traitor. Once part of L'Manburg. A traitor- I don't know if you've heard of Eret? He had a saying...” 

        “Yeah.”

       “Wilbur. Don’t please.” You let out a frustrated cry stepping forward in front of Phil, “I know what you’re about to do. This isn’t you.” He looked at you with such pity he cupped your cheek with your hand, staring dead in your eyes, 

       “It was never meant to be!” He tossed his hand back and slammed it against the button, you let out a loud cry as explosions fired all around you. Wilbur pulled you close to protect you from any stray debris, he let out a roaring cry “MY L'MANBURG, PHIL! MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED! IF I CAN'T HAVE THIS, NO-ONE CAN, PHIL!”

      “Oh, my god…” Phil spoke, his voice quivering with horror, Wilbur looked down at you and he captured your lips with his own. Once again he tasted like cigarettes, but there was a hint of warm honey and coffee...a hint of old Wilbur. He murmured a gentle, ‘I love you’ before pushing you away from him and onto the floor. He turned to Phil letting out a loud declaration, 

      “Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me! (Wilbur throws Phil his sword) Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, kill me! Killza, Killza, do it! Kill me, Phil! Murder me! Look, they all want you to! Do it, Phil! Kill me! Phil, kill me!”

      “I- You're my SON!”

      “Wilbur NO! PHIL DON’T!”

     “Shut up (Y/N). PHIL, KILL ME!”

      “No matter what you- dude, no matter what you've done, I can't-”

 Wilbur slammed his fist against the wall, “Phil, it's- LOOK! LOOK! HOW MUCH WORK WENT INTO THIS, and it's GONE!” A loud pause echoed as Wilbur shoved his sword into Phil’s hand holding it to his chest. “Do it. Do it.”

       “PHIL DON’T.” 

The man ignored you running his sword through his son's chest. Wilbur choked blood staining the front of his shirt before spilling out of his mouth and down his chin. He looked over at you and reached his arm out in your direction. ‘Watch out for Fundy,’ He mouthed before smiling at you, the look would always be ingrained in your memory, the smiling face of Wilbur Soot the love of your life, as the light left his eyes. 

      “God! You couldn't just let- You couldn't just win! You couldn't- You had to just throw your toys out the pram!” He snarled through tears of his own cradling his son's lifeless body. You crawled over and gently put your hand on Phil’s shoulder, he turned and pressed his head into your chest. The father of the man you loved mourned beside you, not sure what was next for you but both were in agreement that this country changed Wilbur for the worst. It caused him to blow up a nation, hurt his loved ones, something he never would’ve dreamed of doing when he was young. It twisted his mind making him forget what was important to him, you’d never step foot in this crater again. 

---

We’re back BITCHES! This is the second part out of I think I’ve decided 3 parts, thank you so much for waiting and being patient. I hope it was worth it! Stay healthy and safe little spirits! @blossom-702 and @mayempress

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 4 - Domain

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Teasing and a little bit of Fluff. 

Summary: Gojo returns from his trip, and while the two of you are hanging out you ask him to show you some of his powers. Unable to resist himself, he breaks a rule along the way.

A/N: Thank you so much for the likes and reblogs! I pretty much only have this updated on AO3 but am slowly trying to add all the chapters onto my Tumblr.

- - - 

When Gojo texted you to let you know that he was at his apartment, he did it with a devious prank in his mind. He informed you that you could let yourself in as the door was unlocked but chose to turn off all the lights and hid in one of the closets.

Then he waited.

He heard the patter of your footsteps and a soft “hello”, before creeping out from his hiding place and lightly approaching you. He was quiet enough for you not to hear him, the shadow of your frame slowing down and he could tell you were getting nervous.

She’s going to kill me, he thought to himself but refused to back out now that he had already set things in motion.

He towered behind you, noticing you freeze in place by the unknown and proceeded to wrap his long arms around your waist before pulling you into his body.

“ Boo !” he exclaimed in your ear, earning a well deserved shriek on your part.

“GOJO, YOU IDIOT!”

You elbowed him in the stomach, forcing him to let go of you as a fit of giggles escaped his lips.

You marched over to the light switches, flicking them to illuminate his large penthouse apartment and you furrowed your brows at the six-foot-three goofball who was covering his mouth to hold in his laughter.

“This is how you greet your friends after coming back from a trip?! By scaring the shit out of them?! Who the hell does that?!!”

Gojo tried to contain himself but the image of your jump scare was perfectly etched in his brain, replaying over and over again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry …” he said in between laughs, breathing in to regain control of himself. “I couldn’t help myself but you should see your face!”

“Ugh, you immature , asshole!” you grumbled, throwing the bag that you were holding in your hands in his direction.

Gojo had superior reflexes and caught it before it flew over his shoulder. He took a minute to calm himself down, extremely pleased that his plan went accordingly.

Meanwhile, you tossed your purse onto his coffee table, huffing to yourself as you plopped down on his black sofa. You folded your arms across your chest, unable to even look at him because of how irritated you were.

Gojo glanced down at the bag in his hand, the clear plastic enclosing a number of rainbow colored candies on the inside.

He bit his bottom lip out of guilt. “Okay, I’m sorry …I mean it this time…”

You scoffed, “are you? Because you still seem pretty content with what you just did.”

“I’m not going to lie, seeing you react like that was worth it…”

You scooted away from him as he took his seat next to you.

“What if you were some kind of murderer?!”

“Now why would you think a murderer would be in this apartment when I  invited you over in the first place? You’re smart, use a little logic…” he teased as he tapped your temple lightly before proceeding to open the bag of sweets.

“That’s it, you don’t deserve Rina’s candies...”

Gojo clasped his chest in disbelief, “ you don’t mean that… ”

You snatched the bag away from him, a satisfied smile spreading across your lips as Gojo frowned.

Deep down inside he was really happy to see you. Playful banter and all, your presence was the recharge he needed after his trip.

The two of you met eight years ago at Rina’s candy shop. At the time, your best friend was just starting her own confectionary business which you were helping her with by working part time while you were still studying at university. Gojo couldn’t get enough of her sweets, earning himself a reputation as a repeat customer. You and Rina constantly joke that he practically kept the business afloat during the early days.What you didn’t know is that he also had his eyes on Rina’s pretty friend. Unfortunately for Gojo, you were taken and oblivious to his advances.

He didn’t care; just because you weren’t interested in him in a physical sense, didn’t mean that you both couldn’t be friends. Gojo is the type of guy who would confidently socialise with anyone around him. He knew not everybody took to his personality, especially when the words “narcissist”, “egotistical” and “arrogant” were constantly used to describe him. You knew all this about him but still chose to maintain your friendship. How you put up with his petty behavior and childish ways often had him wondering why you stuck around but he was grateful that you did.  

After all, you were his closest friend - the only person he relied on after Suguru died.

Gojo pouted his lips, singing your name as he leaned forward to you and softening his tone. “If I get down on my knees and apologise will you forgive me?”

“Hmmm…” you pondered, “I think that’s a fair punishment and you’re buying dinner tonight, which I’ll be choosing so you can’t make a fuss about it.”

Gojo nodded his head and shifted his position to plant his knees onto the floor. He placed one hand on his chest, his other lifting up his blindfold so he was peeping at you with just one eye.

“I sincerely apologize for the hurt I caused you. Will you please, with a cherry on top , forgive this idiot who is on his knees?”

He noticed your lovely smile, amused that he was the reason behind this reaction.

“Okay, you're forgiven,” you replied, as you extended the bag of sweets back to him, offering him to take his pick.

Gojo returned to his sit next to you, his fingers dipping into the candy mix before pulling out a ruby colored square and popping it into his mouth.

“Mmmm…” he moaned, as the flavor burst along his tongue, “ this is good.. .”

“It’s a fresh batch. She made it this morning,” you replied, picking up a piece of candy for yourself. “Now that we can be civilized. Tell me how your trip went…”

The two of you spoke briefly about his trip but Gojo wasn’t eager to disclose the headache he is currently going through trying to uncover the fingers of a one-thousand year old curse. Instead he shifted the conversation back to you, asking how your morning with Rina went instead. He was only back for twelve hours before he had to leave again. The two of you wanted to see each other but agreed that you would hold off on “grabbing drinks” until he returned three days from now.

However, Gojo noted how good you looked seated right in front of him. Before all this started, you would usually show up at his place in casual clothes, paying no attention about how you looked but tonight he realized that you made an effort.  

You made an effort to look nice for him.  

He appreciated it, because the pair of denim jeans you had on fit in all the right places that he loved paying attention to. Your white t-shirt revealed a hint of the lace bralette you were wearing underneath and the man wondered if that was a deliberate fashion choice on your part just to tease him. Your lips were painted in crimson, practically forcing him to focus on your mouth. He had to remember that the rules were there for a reason. The rules ensured that the two of you maintained the boundaries of your friendship. The rules were there because you two needed to make sure that this didn’t influence your existing relationship in any way.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, but I can’t promise an answer…” Gojo cheekily replied, popping another sweet in his mouth as he grinned at you.

“Can I see your… domain ?”

“Is that supposed to be a code for my dick or something?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “you keep telling me about all these powers you have but I’ve never seen any of it.”

Gojo squinted his eyes at you, “why are you so curious about me all of a sudden?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you were asking me a lot of questions about work just now, which you usually don’t do, and now you want me to show you my skill set…”

You fidgeted in place, your fingers tapping nervously against the fabric of your jeans. “I don’t know, I think it’s weird that we have been friends for so long but I still don’t know the real you…”

Gojo paused, taken aback by your statement, “of course you know the real me.”

“Not the parts of you that you keep hiding from me.”

It’s for your own good, he thought to himself.

Gojo pressed his lips together to stop himself from saying those words.

“You already know about my Six Eyes…” he light heartedly replied.  

“There’s more to you than that! I guess I’m just curious to see what else you can do. Besides, I’m starting to come up with theories about your powers. Starting with the fact that you have to wear this blindfold at all times otherwise you’re going to start shooting blue laser beams at people.”

“No laser beams, I can promise that,” Gojo replied with a nervous chuckle.

“Then show me the you that “claims” to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer…” you said, poking him gently on the shoulder. “I just…want to see something …”

Gojo pondered for a moment, sighing to himself as he was not quite sure what he could possibly do that wouldn’t risk putting you in danger. A few seconds passed before he stood up, taking the bag of sweets from your hand and placing it near your purse.

“I want you to stand in front of me,” he requested as he walked around the sofa and found a spot in the middle of the room.

You did as he asked and motioned your way to the position that he had requested. Gojo extended his arm out, ensuring that you were a good distance away.

“Alright, now give me a hug.”

You arched your brow, “seriously?”

“Just do it…” he insisted.

“If this is another stupid prank…”

“I swear it isn’t. Now give me a hug, I’m trying to make a point.”

You walked over towards him, taking your time until you were a few inches away from him. Your arms looped around his waist as you embraced him, but you stared up at him in confusion waiting to see what Gojo was planning next.

“Now what?”

“Okay…” Gojo placed both his hands on your shoulders, before motioning you back until you were an arms length away from him again. “Now I want you to try and push me,” he commanded.

“Push you?”

“Yes. Try to knock me down.”

You scoffed and he could tell that you probably thought he was messing around with you again. Just to play along you nonchalantly placed both your hands up and moved over to shove him, only this time Gojo did something that he’s never done in your presence.

Your eyes widened, your hands pressing into the air that was separating your touch from his body. The force like iron poured over concrete, incredibly powerful and completely protecting Gojo from you.  

“Wait… why…” you voice shook, as your frustration got the better of you. Your hands started to tremble and Gojo noticed you increasing your force as you tried to fight the barrier of his infinity technique.

“ Why can’t I touch you?…”

You were using your legs to push now, every ounce of energy going into fighting the invisible cloak that shielded him.

Gojo smirked before dropping his infinity.

You felt the barrier lift, the pressure giving way as you hurled into him. Your body collided into his, all that pent up energy crashing into the sorcerer as you fell onto the ground. Gojo braced your fall but your face was planted into his chest and your arms lay flat on the ground besides him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

You gathered your senses, pushing yourself until you were sitting upright to face him. A puzzled look masked your face as you patted Gojo’s chest lightly before clutching shoulders and massaging your hands down his arms. “I can touch you now!  How…how did you do that?…”  

Your gaze lifted to meet his own both shocked and amazed by what just happened.

With his blindfold on you couldn’t tell that he was looking at you with wonderment.

Gojo straightened his back so that the two of you were facing each other. You shifted your legs, adjusting your position so you were straddling him. Your hands were still pressing his arms, gripping onto them as if you were trying to prove to yourself that you were indeed touching him.

“You asked me to show you something. So I did...” he said with a shrug.  

“Was that your domain? Are…are you the domain?!”

Your innocent question made his heart swell, and a laugh escaped him.  

“That’s not how it works! It's more complicated than that but this is just one of my techniques that I use to defend myself.”

“That’s… pretty cool …”

“Does it satisfy your curiosity?”

“A little.”

Gojo felt you finally let go of him. He glanced down to stare at your hands which were slightly red. He winced at the sight, bringing his fingers to wrap around your wrist as his thumb circled the center of your palm.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, this is from smacking the floor when I tripped.”

“Technically still my fault, I should have warned you that I was going to drop my infinity…”

“When I tried to push you it was the weirdest sensation. Like, I was touching something but feeling absolutely nothing at the same time. Has anyone ever broken it? Your infinity?”

“You forget I’m the strongest,” Gojo smugly replied, “nobody can touch me unless I want them to.”

You hummed to yourself but Gojo could see that you were lost in your own thoughts. You took his statement into consideration but he could tell you still had more questions you wanted to ask.

“Thank you for showing me,” you replied softly, choosing to let it go for now.

Your eyes locked onto his, your cheeks a little flushed when you realized how close your faces were to each other. Gojo could sense your pulse increasing, your chest rising and falling as seconds passed between you both.

Right now, all he could think about is kissing you.

His lips brushed yours, a breathless sigh escaping you as you broke the silence that hung in the air.

“ Maybe, we should order some dinner…” you suggested, your eyes shimmering with anticipation.

“That’s an idea,” Gojo murmured, his eyes from beneath his blindfold dropping to your lips.

“I was thinking maybe we can take away from that place-“

His lips locked onto yours, interrupting your thoughts as he gave in to his desire. His hands moved to your hips, tugging you forward against him so he was holding you closer. He bit your bottom lip, before licking it and sliding his tongue into your mouth. Completely entranced by what he was doing, he didn’t notice your hands trailing up his chest until it circled around his neck. This kiss was different, slow and passionate as Gojo took the time to explore your mouth. The taste of sugar dance across your tongues as he deepened the kiss, and he could feel himself getting hard as your chest rubbed against his. One of his hands snaked it’s way up behind your back, tangling his fingers in your hair. His other hand began lifting your tee from the front, sliding underneath it as he slowly began rubbing the flesh of your midriff. You broke away from him, taking a second to catch your breath as you pressed your forehead into his and hoping to calm things down before they escalate.

“We shouldn’t…we said we weren’t going too…”

“You’re right, we probably should stop…” Gojo agreed, but his lips spoke otherwise as he returned a kiss instead.

“ Satoru… ” you whined, but he could sense the heat between your legs as your hips naturally bucked into him. “We said we wouldn’t…not tonight..”

“Then tell me to stop.”

“What about the rules…”

“Tell me that you want me to stop, and we can go back to what we were doing.”

His lips trailed to your neck, where he nipped and sucked at your skin with every intention of leaving a mark.

You whimpered, tilting your head instead and giving Gojo better access to continue what he was doing. Your silence spoke volumes and gave him the consent he needed to continue.

“Rules were meant to be broken,” he whispered in your ear. “And tonight, sweet girl, you’re all mine …”

- CHAPTER 5: EDGE - 

[90spumkin]

A Dash of Truth

Summary: Reader is a witch but doesn’t want everyone to know, especially Spencer.

A/N: This is a fantasy AU which is a new concept for me. I hope you all like it. Thank you @the-queen-of-moons​ for helping me! Also the amazing graphic is by @spencers-beanbag ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Witch! Reader

Warnings: swearing, details of spell casting, mentions of a case, reader is a little rude at times

Word Count: 1.9K

Paperwork days were most of the time quite except when Derek Morgan had worked for the BAU, there was never a moment of silence. Today however there was a different sound filling the office.

“I swear on everything good and cuddly, if this headache doesn’t go away, I may get one of you badass agents just to shoot me.”

I looked up from my work to make eye contact with my curly haired coworker, Spencer, across our desks. Then a groan brought our attention to the blonde walking towards her ‘bat cave’ holding her head. I looked back towards Spencer who only shrugged and returned to his files. I glanced back towards the way Penelope had gone and hoped she felt better soon.

It wasn’t long till my hopes were crushed. “I swear if I could name this headache, it would be called Luke Alvez.” This exclamation of pain brought out a “Hey!” from Luke himself and giggles from everyone else. Penelope just winced at the loud sounds, finished making her coffee, and made her way back into her office. I contemplated offering her help and sharing my secret before deciding helping a friend was more important.

When I reached the entrance to the dark corner of the building I gave the door a light knock, not wanting to cause Penelope anymore pain. A faint permission to enter was the only sign of life I was given. The room wasn’t filled with the normal luminous light of computer screens. Instead, the human embodiment of sunshine was submerged in darkness.

“Penelope? I brought something that may help?” I kept my voice slightly above a whisper. The poor women turned on her desk lamp and turned to look at me. “Hi buttercup, what do you have for me?” I smiled at her attempt to still be cheery even though she wasn’t feeling quite so cheery herself.

I laid a crystal and a vial on her desk and explained, “This is a clear quartz crystal it helps in healing and pain relief. I also brought you some peppermint oil, apply a small amount to your temples and it should help sooth the headache as well.”

“Oh honey, you are a life saver. I will definitely give this a go! Thank you!” Penelope gave my hand a squeeze and I bent down to give her a gentle hug and a soft kiss to her head. “I hope it helps.”

When I returned to my desk, I found Spencer there leaning against it, waiting for me. I blushed a little when he gave me a smile. I couldn’t help the fact his presence made the butterflies in my stomach erupt.

“Where did you disappear to?” Spencer questioned as I took my seat. I looked towards the way I had just come, “I tried to help Penelope with her headache. I was getting worried.” I looked back at Spencer who was staring at me with a small smile playing on his lips, “Y/n you’re ama- a good friend.” I could feel my blush deepening as I mumbled a “thank you”. With a nod, Spencer returned to his desk.

It wasn’t but a few hours before Penelope was returning the crystal and oil I had given her. She leaned against my desk and asked, “So spill. How’d you know that stuff would work?”” I couldn’t help but to look away from her piercing eyes shyly before replying, “I- I practice modern witchcraft, nothing extreme just charms, crystals, oils, excreta.” I looked back at her before adding, “I don’t really advertise it so please don’t say anything.”

Penelope smiled at me and grabbed my hand and gave it a light squeeze, “Oh honey, I won’t say a word, but only on one condition.” I gave her a questioning look in which she responded, “You have to teach me your witchy ways.”

Over the course of a few weeks Penelope and I had spent countless hours together after work and between cases. It was mostly nights filled with small castings and gossip. Penelope was a fast learner, so it left plenty of time for the two of us to talk and catch up.

On one particular night we were in the middle of brewing a few healing oils when my phone rung. It was Spencer. Penelope may not be a profiler, but anyone would notice the way my whole body froze up and a smile grew across my face. Penelope giggle and nudged my shoulder reminding me I actually have to answer the phone.

The phone call didn’t last long it was just Spencer letting me know I had left my jacket at my desk and that he put it in his to go bag for safe keeping. Of course, this only excited Penelope and she unleashes a sea of questions: “He totally likes you. Do you like him? Are you going to tell him? You should totally tell him.”

My response to her was simply, “I could never tell him. It would ruin everything.” My best friend gave me a pointed look as she said, “You have to be honest with him, you never know what magic could unfold between the two of you.” I couldn’t help but snort at her choice of words.

The same night as the random phone call from Spencer, there was a Phone call from JJ. We had a case. This case took almost a week to solve, and it was particularly hard. Our prime suspect was good with his words and was constantly trying to lead us in the wrong direction. Lucky for us we have a genius who’s good at solving riddles.

On the way home a thought kept running through my mind: What if I made an oil and cast a truth spell over it. I finally decided I was going to do it and started writing down what I would need: 4 ounces of grape seed or jojoba oil and one ounce of sandalwood oil.

I was missing an ingredient and couldn’t think of what it could be. That’s when someone to my right cleared their throat and said, “One ounce of pure vanilla extract.” When I looked up to see who helped me, I was met with a small smile and a wink from Emily.

As soon as the jet landed, I rushed home only slowing down to tell Spencer goodnight. Luckily, he didn’t ask why I was in a hurry, which I am grateful for.

Once I was home it didn’t take long for me to gather all my ingredients and begin my spell. While swirling the blended oils and extract gently in a clockwise motion I chanted, “Truth be told, no more lies. Now it’s time for honesty. Telling the truth will set you free.” I carefully poured the oil into a bottle, concentrating on not getting any on my skin which would activate it.

The next morning everything seemed fine until I got to work. It wasn’t strange of me to greet my coworkers in the mornings. What was strange was the thing I said after my greetings.

When I walked in I saw Tara first and my greeting to her went something a little like, “Good morning. You look tired.” Tara only laughed and responded with, “Well thanks y/n so do you.”

I was lucky that Tara didn’t take offense, but I didn’t mean to say that. I rushed to Penelope’s office and was blessed to fine Emily there as well. My intensions where to say, “Hi guys. I have a problem.” And then explain but what actually came out was, “Why is it always so fucking dark in here.”

Penelope and Emily both just looked at me and then giggled. Emily however seemed to know why I was saying these out of character things, “Y/n I think you may have gotten some of that truth serum on you.”

My response was, “Well shit.”, while Penelope’s was, “What truth serum? Emily how do you know the witchy ways? Wait you told her and not me?”

I took Penelope’s gasp for breath as a chance to explain what happened. This took a little longer than necessary because every time I would talk about one thing what I really thought would pour out like word vomit. Especially when I started explaining the whole situation with the suspect and why I wanted to do the spell.

When I finally stopped talking the door opened right on cue and Matt stuck his head in to let us know it was five minutes till briefing. He looked a little confused when a panicked looked crossed my face and I said, “Do you not know how to knock.” I instantly apologized and looked to Emily and Penelope for help.

Emily nicely dismissed Matt and turned to me, “We need you on this case since Rossi took personal time. The spell will most likely take 24 hours to run through your system. Until then we’re going to have to come up with a good excuse on why you’re being mean.”

Penelope chuckled when I started to pout, “This isn’t fair. Stupid Rossi, stupid psychopaths.” Emily shook her hand as she led me to what was going to be the longest day of my life.

I had never been more right in my life. The whole time we were on the case every thought that ran through my mind escaped through my lips. I was never one to challenge anything about a profile or standup to local cops who were being pigs. Until now. The team never really got upset just more concerned and any time anyone asked if I was okay my response was always, “No I’m a fucking idiot and can’t do anything right.” And would walk away.

It wasn’t until we had made it back to the BAU that Spencer asked what was going on. “Y/n what has gotten into you? You’ve been acting out of character all day.” It was like Spencer talking to me was all it took for every thought I had about him and my situation to come spilling out.

I told him about the suspect and the spell, I even went into detail about my lessons with Penelope which led to me confessing my feelings because of course I had to say something about that damn phone call. When I realized everything, I had said to him I practically started sprinting away from him, ignoring his calls for to wait.

It wasn’t long after I had gotten home that my phone started to ring. Penelope’s name lit up across the screen and when I answered she instantly began to interrogate me. When I didn’t instantly tell her what happened or what I was thinking, I knew the spell had worn off.

I sighed into the phone the same time there was a knock on the door. I looked through the peep hole and was met with the sight of curly brown hair. All I said to Penelope was “I have to call you back” and hung up while she was still asking questions a mile a minute.

When I opened the door I was greeted with a small smile. Instead of a proper greeting I asked, “Spencer, what are you doing here?” Spencer took a step closer as he said, “I don’t need a truth spell to tell you I love you too, y/n.”

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Permanent Taglist: @brooklynxnicole​ @the-queen-of-moons​ @imdefinitelyfloating​ @muffin-cup​ @theintimatewriter​ @averyhotchner​ @spenxerslut​ @spenciegoob​ @april-14-blog​ 

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

SELF INDULGENT TIME so like what would happen 👀if you surprised the boys 👀👀 with new hair👀👀👀

I DID IT LOOK!!!! LOOK I DID IT!!!! Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

This is for Daichi, Sugawara, Tsukishima, and Bokuto. All with a Gender Neutral Reader! Please let me know if anything is gendered <3

ALSO THANK YOU TO @pies-writes-and-more FOR LITERALLY HELPING ME WITH THE IDEAS FOR THESE GOD KNOWS HOW LONG AGO!!! I WOULD NOT HAVE SURVIVED HAD IT BEEN FOR YOU

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Daichi -

(gif is not mine)

“You really think he’s going to like it?” You fiddled with the ends of your hair, biting your lip and looking at Kiyoko in the corner of your eye. 

It was that time of year again where it was getting too hot to be able to deal with your hair, so you cut the majority of it off.

The VBC manager looked over at you, sighing a little with a smile dancing on her lips, “he’ll love it.” She affirms you, though you can’t help the hesitation in your returned smile.

You hadn’t been able to see him all day - the only reason you’d met Daichi was because of Kiyoko, she just accidentally introduced you when you needed to return a pen to her and did it by showing up to her club after school.

After that day, the volleyball club boys showed up to your classroom more often. Somehow Daichi’s eyes always managed to find you. The rest was history (history being Kiyoko telling you to suck it up and ask him out).

It had barely been a month, Summer break was nearing with each passing day. You let out a soft sigh, walking with Kiyoko to where the boys hung out during lunch.

You really didn't know how he was going to react, but you hoped it was good.

When you rounded the corner, you saw him sitting in all his glory, drinking something you couldn’t quite make out from here. Asahi smiled and waved you over.

You watched Daichi turn his head to see what Asahi who Asahi was calling over.

Time seemed to slow down for this moment. You really wished you’d recorded Daichi’s reaction as he spotted you. His eyes shot open to their fullest - he was still mid-drink, but that stopped as he spat most of his drink out while gasping.

Suga - upon realising that Daichi probably choked - proceeded to smack his friend on the back. Hard. “I’ll save you!” He called out, only making things so much worse.

Asahi had the most disgusted look on his face as he yelled at Daichi for spitting  some sort of juice on him. You were stifling laughter, but Daichi wasn’t even throwing any insults at Asahi for being a wuss, his eyes were glued to you (and one arm was focused on shoving Suga away).

“Hey,” you giggled, sitting down next to him.

You’d never seen Daichi speechless before, there’s a first for everything you suppose. When he doesn’t answer right away, you wave a hand in front of his eyes. He blinks quickly, doing a deep intake of breath and smiling so wide you’re worried his face might split in two.

“Hey.” He breathes out, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “This is new.” He hums, running his hands through your hair. You lean into his touch.

In the background, you can hear Suga gagging at your signs of affection, but you didn’t care. Especially since Daichi was here and looking at you like you were everything. “Yep, it’s getting warm so I;m doing some preventative measures.”

“I like it.” Somehow, three simple words managed to set off butterflies in you that were almost too overwhelming. Feeling the warmth spread to your cheeks, you turned away, stifling anxious laughter. He cupped your cheek and turned your head back. “It looks so beautiful.”

You really loved Daichi, especially since you knew he meant it with every part of him.

Sugawara - 

(gif is not mine)

Suga barely caught sight of you when he knew something was different - and he knew it was your hair in a second. That mischievous smirk pulled at his lips when you walked into the gym, greeting Ukai, who complimented your hair and then turned back to yelling at someone for… something?

He sauntered over you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to. “You’re new around here.” An obvious flirty tone made you quirk your brows up. Catching his drift, you smirked up at him.

“Just thought I’d come see some cute boys play volleyball,” you hummed, leaning against the wall, “L/N Y/N.” You held out a hand to him, which he gladly took and used to pull you closer.

“So, you here to see anyone specific” He let out a low whistle as you brushed your hair out of your face. Internally, you were snorting - this happened every time you tried a new hairstyle - still, it made you feel good.

You took your time glancing around at the boys, making sure to give the best flirty look possible to Daichi (who was now thoroughly used to how your relationship with Suga was). “No one in particular, why? Are you interested?” You teased him.

“Of course,” he chuckled, capturing a few strands of your hair between his fingers and humming happily, “how could I not be when you’re stood here looking so beautiful?”

“Suga,” Ukai called out to him, pinching the bridge of his nose, “this is cute and all, but get back to practise!”

Suga tossed you a wink over his shoulder as he jogged towards the court.

“Why’re you like this?” Ukai asked you, and you only shrugged.

“He started it.” And he didn’t need to respond, because that was the whole truth.

It was one of the things you’d had to get used to when being with Suga, the fact that he liked to mindlessly flirt with you at any second - either that or he’d tease you to no end - but he’d never tease you about your appearance, that was one bridge even he wouldn’t cross. Well, unless it was Asahi.

His eyes constantly floated over to you, making sure you were definitely watching him today. As if it would be any different to say any other day. With each successful set, you were shooting him a thumbs up and a big smile; every receive, spike, dig. It was all so mesmerizing to you.

You’d be sure to thank your friend again for dragging you to a volleyball game in your second year and getting you hooked on it (well, mostly Suga).

If it hadn't been for that, you never would have introduced yourself to him. “L/N Y/N!” You held your hand out to him and smiled. “I loved the way you played, and I think you’re very cute.” That was all it took and you and Suga were wrapped around each other’s fingers.

Whipped. He had you whipped, you had him whipped. But it was perfect. So sweet.

When his practise finished, he pranced over to you and wrapped his arms around you in his disgusting sweaty hugs he insisted on giving you every single practise. You gagged and tried to push him off.

“You really like it?” You asked when he finally let you go. You motioned to your hair (which you’d recently dyed grey to support him in his final year, like the good partner you were). He hummed happily, kissing your cheeks and the tip of your nose quickly.

“I love it,” he hums. You were ready to die from the love, but he had to ruin the moment. “Like a sexy little old person.”

You slapped Suga on the arm and stormed away from him. His laughter made your stomach flip as he chased after you.

Sometimes Suga was an asshole. Sometimes he was the sweetest boy to ever exist. But he was yours all the time, and that made you happy.

That’s what you kept telling yourself when he wouldn’t stop teasing you about how cheesy it was to dye your hair like his.

Tsukishima -

(gif is not mine)

You weren’t sure what you expected. Of course, Tsukishima didn’t care about your hair. Why would he? He probably thought something like this was lame.

Still, that didn’t stop you from trying to get his attention (he was your boyfriend, after all). So, you spent so much time in every interaction with him fiddling with your hair. Running your hand through it? Did it. Twirling the ends in your fingertips? Check. You name it, you’d done it.

Nothing worked. It honestly left you really disappointed. It wasn’t like you’d cut a small amount of your hair off; you’d gotten a decent amount cut, and yet, nothing.

“Maybe he just hasn’t noticed.” Yamaguchi said, trying his best to be helpful. The look you gave him radiated really? and he nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right, well… it looks great. So, he’s just lame.” His attempt at making you feel better worked a little.

“Thanks Tadashi.” You hummed.

Still, being with the Tsukishima Kei came with its own wave of insecurities. Maybe you would have faired better today if he had said it looks stupid (at least he would have noticed it then). But…

You sigh, running your hands through your hair, regretting everything now.

Little did you know, Tsukishima had noticed your hair. In fact, he thought it was lovely. That was what he was repeating as Yamaguchi yelled at him down the other end of your phone.

“-their your partner, you really couldn’t say anything?” Yamaguchi was pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing heavily.

“It looks nice, do I really need to tell them that every time they change it?” Tsukishima sighed; he really didn’t understand the rules of being in a relationship. Why did he need to tell you you looked beautiful every day when you knew he thought you were? Did he need to do that?

“Yes!” Yamaguchi - unknowingly - answered both of his questions.

It seemed to click in his head. That was why you spent all day messing with your hair more than usual. He just thought you were extra anxious today (although maybe he’d made you anxious).

“Tsukki, you’re an idiot.” Yamaguchi laughed after the middle block made a noise of realisation.

“Shut up, Tadashi…” Tsukishima grumbled, because God forbid he admit he was wrong.

So, like the good boyfriend he was, he started making his way to your house at 7 o’ clock to make sure you knew he loved your hair. He really did put in so much effort for you - not that he’d ever tell anyone it.

He spends the walk to yours thinking about how he was going to say this, or how you’d react. He does love you, and sure, he doesn’t say it as much as the next guy, but he shows it in so many more ways, right?

Tsukishima tells you he loves you by buying you your favourite drink from the vending machine every day at lunch; he tells you he loves you by trying out your favourite foods even when he insists he doesn’t like them; he tells you he loves you by linking your pinkies together in the school hall; he tells you he loves you by making you a playlist of the songs that make him think of you.

So why did you need him to tell you that you were beautiful no matter what? Day or night; rain or sun; no matter how old, he thought you were beautiful, from the bottom of his heart.

He supposed it was nice to hear - because he did love to hear how handsome you thought he was.

Knocking on the door to your house left him just a little anxious, that feeling only heightened when you opened the door with red-rimmed eyes, looking up at him so sadly. “Kei?” You called out, unsure why he was here so late. He hadn’t even told you he was coming, it wasn’t like him to just… show up, so, why?

“I can’t believe I have to tell you this,” he grumbles and looks away, cheeks tinted red (it would be him blushing, but he’d blame the cold air when you teased him later), “I think your hair is amazing, idiot.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, making sure that he can catch your expression in the corner of his eye.

Your mouth drops open before quickly pouting, trying to fight back tears as you throw yourself at him, squeezing him in a hug.

“Wh-”

“Thank you…” your voice is so weak, shaking ever so lightly. He makes a point to run his fingers through your hair and gently massage your scalp, leaning down to kiss your head.

Tsukishima thought you were beautiful, and right now, that’s all that mattered.

Bokuto -

(gif is not mine)

If you’d have told yourself yesterday that your boyfriend would spend the entire day avoiding you, you’d have laughed in your own face. Because why would he do that?

Well, maybe it’s what you get for surprising him with an entirely new haircut. Or, more so, you’d dyed your hair black and white to match his. Your entire plan to see him get so excited had completely backfired.

To give him credit, at least you knew he would never cheat, because the moment you tackled him in a hug and he didn’t recognise you immediately, he pushed you off exclaiming, “you can’t do that, I have a partner!” Before running off.

At first, it hurt a little. Every time you tried to go near him, he’d run in the opposite direction. You told Akaashi about it - he was in your class, after all - and the two of you started a bet as to when he’d figure out it was you and not some random person. There was that general worry that he wouldn’t figure it out.

The funny thing was that he still texted you throughout the day, telling you about this random person (read: you) and how they wouldn’t leave him alone. You laughed at his texts, rolling your eyes and promising that everything would be okay.

Of course, you had to surprise him at the end of the day. He didn’t react too well, but you and Akaashi shared a knowing smirk, “they’re here, too!” He dove behind Akaashi - the spiker only sighed and stepped towards you.

The gym waited with baited breath for what would happen. “Hey, did you finish studying already?” He spoke casually to you. Bokuto gasped in betrayal - because how dare he talk to you after you’d stalked him all day - and started stepping towards the two of you.

“Yeah, it wasn’t that much anyway.” You shrugged, trying to hide your excitement.

If you looked closely enough, you could see the cogs turning in his head. You just knew he was trying to figure out when Akaashi got a partner (and why his partner looked so much like you). His eyes widened as he tentatively stepped closer to you.

With each passing second, more tension grew. Akaashi was trying his best not to burst out laughing - subsequently making it harder for you to not laugh.

A switch flipped in his head and he gasped. “Wait a minute! That’s my partner!”

That broke you, both you and Akaashi finally letting out your howling laughter. Bokuto threw himself at you, hugging you like his life depended on it.

“Took you long enough.” You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around him and humming happily.

He pulled away and pouted at you, “why did you change your pretty hair?” He fumbled the strands in his fingertips. “Not that it isn’t pretty! It’s very pretty, but a different kind of pretty.” You snorted at his phrasing.

“Well,” you smiled sweetly up at him, “I wanted us to match.”

Once again, the wheels in his head turned before he gasped, lifting you up and spinning you around. Such wonder in his eyes.

Sure, you’d spend later comforting because you were prettier than him now, and he’s the ugly one in the relationship (his words, not yours), but it would be worth it to see the way his eyes would light up so much more at every single match you attended. After every win, he’d parade you around and explode with so much joy. He’d brag to Kuroo that his partner’s hair matched his. 

You’d never felt luckier to be Bokuto’s.

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