#we aren’t allowed to mourn let’s go time to make moves guys

[mossytrashcan]

alina nation. have we thought of this yet

[cherry-pop-elf]

Follow My Lead

Curly x Disabled!Reader

Can be read as platonic

AN: Purely self indulgent. I’m suffering extreme disability issues do to the change in weather and it’s very painful and exhausting. So here we are. Friendly reminder of disability’s existing and lives can still be lived. Thank you

SUM: You were returning to the Physical Therapy center for your weekly appointment. As you enter the designated gym, with its nurses, you noticed someone new. New people in the waiting room, and new people in the gym. Wonder who that new nurse is to…

Warnings: Disabilities, medical discussion, reader’s disabilities are vague but will have issues that are common in the disability community, PTSD, Trauma, Everyone lives except Jimmy, lots of medical discussion, so much trauma Jesus Christ

“Just wait for a few minutes and we can call you back.” The woman would tell you. You would give a nod and returned to your seat in the waiting room. Right next to quite the chipper fellow. With floral attire. There with a much older man. Perhaps his father?

“Hi-!” The floral guy would say, before the older man nudged him. Telling him not to bother the other people here at the gym here. You didn’t mind. People can make the atmosphere here so depressing sometimes. It’s nice to have some sunshine.

“Hello!” You returned, meeting his energy. That had him just beaming.

“You two are new here, aren’t you? First time here?” You asked, as the floral man nodded. The older just let the younger do all the talking. The floral one seemed the social butterfly anyway.

“Yeah. It’s not for us though. It’s for our friend Curly. And also Anya! She’s a nurse. Since she’s a nurse she’s helping him with the other like physical therapists here. He really needs a-lot of extra help. His arms and legs are missing, eye is missing, had so many skin graphs. He’s been through A LOT. So we’re here for moral support.” He explained to you, and you would listen.

Damn that Curly really went through alot. Sounded like he lost the limbs then actually was without them earlier in life. He’s going to have a long journey ahead of himself.

“Swansea here is also helping install stuff at Curly’s place to make it easier to move around in. Like railings, changing door knobs, stuff like that! He’s got prosthetics he’s still getting used to, but he also uses a wheelchair when they make his muscles ache too much.” He would ramble on, and you happily listened.

It was so nice to have someone be so positive. Many able bodied people just treat disabled situations with such mourning and sadness. It was refreshing to have someone have a positive outlook. To be excited to help compared to just mourning and worrying.

“You can come back when you are ready-!” A physical therapist would call for you. As you went to leave, the floral man was quick to call out.

“Oh! I’m Daisuke!”

“Well hello Daisuke. Please talking to you-!” You would wave, before heading back to the gym area with everyone else.

Typically most physical gyms would have a designated nurse for each person, that way you can be watched carefully and monitored for improvement. This gym, however, allowed that people who had progressed to a certain level can work out independently with the gear offered here. As a means to allow more independence, and for them to improve or care for their health by their own speed.

It seems like that Curly guy won’t reach that milestone for ages.

He was very easy to notice amongst the often elderly folks there. The rare younger type, but often it’s from some kind of long turn injury or recovery of surgery.

There you would see a man using the standing bars. Metal bars on each side, and a person would walk through the middle. Gave them the ability to use their arms to keep support instead of using all their weight on their legs.

Just like Daisuke said he was in pretty rough shape. His arms had prosthetics and same for his legs. A eye patch covered his missing eye, and much of his skin still was incredibly rough.

Despite it all, he’s trying. He’s shakily walking through, with his arms on the metal, and he’s taking it step by step. Still trying to adjust to having somewhat of limbs again.

Next to him was a kind looking woman. Her eyes looked like they had seen too much, but her smile said she is willing to keep on living. To spite the world she will be happy.

“There you go Curly. You are doing a good job. Just take it very slow. There’s no need to rush. You will be able to do more once you adjust. How about you finish this walk and we can sit down. Then we can try and use your arms for a while. Legs are the most exhausting.” She would say to him.

She had such a warmth in her voice. A nurse that everyone wished they had after any life threatening event. She was perfect for a physical therapist.

“Shit shit shit-!” He would start to panic, and he would end up slipping. She was quicker though. She managed to grab him by his chest, as his limbs went limp. Just dangling like a doll. He looked so humiliated.

Maybe he needed a friend.

“Hi! I heard you two are new here. That guy in the waiting room, Daisuke, told me a little about you two. Do you need help with like, oh I don’t know, anything? I’ve been coming here for a while now. If you want anyway.” You would offer, as Anya would help him stand back on his bionic feet again.

“Oh that is very kind of you. I think we are alright, for the time being. But thank you so much.” She was so gentle with her words. Clearly each word was truly kindness, and not just words to push someone away.

“I wouldn’t mind it. I….I have no idea what I’m doing.” Curly would admit, as there was still shame in his expression. As if he felt unworthy to be there. To be helped at all. That he just deserved the worse.

Very relatable.

“Oh sure! Oh oh! Maybe I can be on the other side of the bar. You can place your hands on my shoulder and your other arm on hers. We will hold you up ourselves so when you slip you don’t fall.” You offered, as you stepped into position.

Anya would do the same, and made sure there was a hand on his back and one on his chest. To help him keep himself straight, and if he slipped you both can push him back into place.

“Deep breaths Curly. You got this. You are almost to the other side.” Anya reassured, as you smiled as well. Suppose seeing you both trying so hard helped him gain the motivation to push through.

Each step was heavy, slow, and frustrated. He was trying his best, but sometimes his muscle spasms kicked in and his leg would just move the wrong way. You could relate to that. Muscle spasms were so annoying to deal with. Especially in public. People think you are on some kind of drug and question you. Annoying as hell.

It was slow, but you didn’t care. He needed a little extra help and you figured you could offer it. Make things just a little easier for him. It’s rough. You know it so well.

He finally reached the other end, and Anya couldn’t help but clap and beam. So proud of him. So damn happy he did it. Course when she let go he ended up falling into you, but you managed to help him get back up again.

“Sorry! Just you did it! Before you know it you’ll be running and jumping. You’ll be back to skiing in no time.” She would encourage, before bringing the wheelchair over. The two of you helping him sit in it. Such a relief.

“You ski?” You asked, as Anya would help take his legs off. Let him breathe for a while. While she did that, he gave a small nod.

“Before all….this….I used to really be quite the athlete. I loved winter sports. If it was in the snow I was there. Snowboarding, Skiing, ice skating, ice climbing, I used to do it all. Even was a body builder. To think I used to do so much…..” He sighed, as he looked over at his arms. Looking at what was once muscle and bone. Now just metal and specialized plastic.

“Hey….I know you’ve been told this a million times, so I’ll just say it from a person that also doesn’t have the best mobility either. You’ll have good days and bad days. Some more extreme than others. It’s gonna to fucking suck. It’s gonna hurt. It’s going to be exhausting. You’ll have days wondering why you should even stay alive. But you’ll also have days where you can accomplish simple things like making your own dinner. Taking out the trash. Fold some laundry. You’ll get there. It’s gonna suck but you’ll reach it.”

Having someone keep it blunt with him seemed to be what he needed to hear. Was like he learned a mistake about keeping things to sweet. That sometimes you need a reality check.

“Thank you….I think it was very important for me to hear that. Thank you.” He would do his best to smile at you, but the nerves in his face were rather damaged. You wouldn’t be surprised if he needed some more surgery there to.

He’s still going to go through so much, but maybe having someone who can genuinely relate to it all could help.

“Hey, I come here every Saturday. That way when I’m painfully exhausted from it I can just relax and have Sunday be a complete recover day.” You said, as you walked with him as Anya rolled him over to a spot to not bother people. She would soon sit across from him, with a small ball, and the two of them would try and play simple catch with it. Both to help with his arms and his new adjustment with a single eye.

“Think that sounds like the best plan for me right now as well…” He nodded, as that was the way you two could agree on it.

He would do his best to play catch with her, but it kept falling in his lap. His limbs just not moving quite fast enough, and his send of direction never quite there. Was so frustrating, and you understood it.

“Said a million times, I know, but take it from me. You’ll genuinely get there. But it will take a while. Not days. Not weeks. Months if you keep at it. But it’ll get there.” You reassured, as you stepped away. Off to do your own exercises for your own issues.

Was a peaceful gym day like that. Spending what spoons you had to take care of yourself. Every now and again, when taking a breather, you looked over to him. Seeing Anya help him get used to his limbs. Small things like picking up something, catching, even paddy cake. Taking it slow for him.

Once you ran out of energy you would kinda hang out with them.

You didn’t ask him how he ended up like that, you just let yourself breathe. Breathe as he spoke what he wanted to speak about. Same for her.

From what little pieces you could pick out from them it sounded like they were victims of a ship crash. No wonder he ended up so fucked up. That fact he’s alive at all is insane to you. Anya deserved way more credit.

There also seemed to be a shared enemy between them. When a person called over for a therapist, named Jimmy, the way they flinched and looked around like someone started unloading a gun. Whoever this Jimmy was sure made his mark on them.

Once he finally couldn’t go on any longer she would take the arms off as well. Letting what was left of his limbs breathe. He was so exhausted, but he seemed happy. Happy to have made some kind of progress, and even happier he had someone to talk to through it.

“I’ll see you next Saturday.” You smiled, and waved, as you started to leave. He gave a wave of his own, before Daisuke and Swansea returned to him. There to carry his prosthetics and be his cheerleaders.

You were happy for him. He deserved a support network.

He deserved to smile again.

You just knew he did.

[crashdevlin]

Losses and Gains 3- From the Rooftops

Author’s Note: This is the third chapter of Losses and Gains, the second part of To Have it All. This is Something More...from Jensen's side!

Summary: Jensen spirals. No one can stop him. no one can steal his focus.

Pairing:  Jensen x Reader, background Reader x Tom Hiddleston

Word count: 3210

Story Warnings: open marriage, mentions of depression and heartbreak, bad things, alcohol as a crutch, anger, fighting

~~~

I’m not sure how I missed the fact that I was starting to spiral, but I was convinced that I was dealing with my depression in a completely reasonable and healthy way. I was lying to myself, but I just couldn’t see that. Dee could. Jared could. Doc Jamison could…oh, and he was vocal about it, judgmental.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little selfish with how you’re acting?” he asked.

I shrugged, looking at the door, wishing I was out in the hall with Danneel. “No. I’m mourning. How’s that selfish?”

“You don’t have a reason to be mourning.”

My eyes went wide at his words, and I turned to look at him. “I don’t?”

“She’s not family. She’s not really a friend. She was a coworker, but she’s not even that anymore, is she? She ran off as soon as she was able. Do you think, perhaps, she knew how toxic this situation was?” I held back a growl and looked away, my jaw tight. “Why are you still in denial of it, Jensen?”

“I’m not in denial, you ass,” I snapped. “I’m in love…and I’m allowed to be, okay?”

“No, you aren’t,” he said, and it felt like I was frustrating him. “You were never supposed to fall in love with her in the first place. You have a loving wife who allowed you to have a sexual relationship with another woman, something that most women would never allow, and you have convinced yourself that you have fallen in love with her. Well, you’ve lost Y/n, Jensen. She broke off your arrangement because it was horrible for everyone involved. You need to move on before you lose Danneel, too.”

“I’m not gonna lose Danneel,” I argued. “That’s fuckin’ stupid.”

If I’d listened to him, if I’d been able to get out of my head, maybe I would have been able to fix it, but…I couldn’t do it. I went home after that doctor’s appointment, and I poured myself a glass of Glenmorangie, and I sat myself down in my office, and I pulled out my phone, and I started scrolling. I started on Instagram, swiping through every picture she’d posted. A pit formed in my stomach when I saw her posting pictures of her and her Marvel costars. The way he looked at her. The way he touched her shoulder. The way she smiled in every shot with him. I wasn’t even seeing the others anymore. Tom fuckin’ Hiddleston was the only one in the pictures with her.

Dee was in the doorway watching me for a good long time before I picked up the bottle and poured another glass. “What?” I snapped, tired. I was so tired.

She let out a sad little gasp and stepped into the office. “Birdie was asking if we could go for a picnic tomorrow. Not a hike, just a picnic in the park. What do you think of that?”

“I don’t know. I’m leavin’ tomorrow night and-”

“And that’s why we would have to do it tomorrow. We could do it for lunch.” I rolled my eyes and took a drink of scotch. “Please, Jensen.”

I was consumed by anger and depression, but I knew I couldn’t say ‘no’. So I nodded. “Tomorrow. I’ll make sandwiches.” Dee kissed my cheek and left with a ‘thank you’. I kept drinking, stalking Y/n’s social media until I found my way to her Facebook and ancient pictures of her and Nate. God, what did she see in him? Scrawny, scraggly, no-dick piece of shit. At least Tom wasn’t this ugly…and he was supposed to be a good guy.

I fell asleep on the recliner in my office, but I got up and had a drink before I went to the kitchen and started to make sandwiches. We went to the park, had lunch, and I tried to focus on the kids because I could barely look at Danneel. Every time I looked at her, my mind told me that she was the reason I felt so much loss.

I slept in the guest room that night. Last chance to sleep with Dee before I left for Vancouver, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I got drunk, passed out in the guest room, and then I left for the airport in the morning with barely a ‘goodbye’. I had a Jack and Coke on the plane…and then another, and another. I stopped drinking two hours before touchdown, but I was lit by then. I was still drunk by the time I climbed into the SUV.

The condo was big…cold…dark…and it felt empty. I noticed that Y/n’s thick coat was gone as soon as I opened the door. I didn’t have to keep searching to know that she’d already been by to grab her things, but I did. I walked through and made note of every single piece of her that she took from me. Every piece of Y/n that Dee took from me. There wasn’t a lot of Y/n’s stuff there, but it was enough that I could see empty spots. I could see her absence. Every room I walked through got me lower and lower. I noticed she left her toothbrush in her rush to get out…and a little 3 oz bottle of her favorite perfume on the sink. It was half empty, but when I picked it up and held it to my nose, I got lost in all these memories of her.

I laid out on the bed and cried like a fucking baby. I cried myself to sleep.

I could barely pull myself out of bed to get to the studio the following day. I had a beer for breakfast before I even got dressed. Clif shook his head at me, but he didn’t say a word. Jared was another story.

“You look like shit, dude.”

“Thanks,” I responded, trying to sound sarcastic.

“Not sure the makeup team can cover those dark circles.”

“They do it for Misha all the time.”

“Come on, man, you gotta buck up.” He reached over and lightly punched my arm, and I looked up at him.

“Buck up? That’s your advice here?”

“My advice is to get the fuck over it,” he said, dropping his voice so others on the lot couldn’t hear him. “And get over it now because she’s coming up behind you, and if you make this hard for her, I’m gonna make the makeup team have to cover some bruises.”

I went stiff as Jared stepped around me, a big smile on his face. “Y/n! What are you doing here? They bring you back already?” I could see him go for a hug out of the corner of my eye, and I wanted so bad to be able to hug her, too, but all I could do was train my facial expression and slowly turn around.

“I’m just here to drop off Jensen’s key before I head back to the states.”

“You could have left it in the apartment, you know?” Jared teased. “Always making shit more complicated than necessary.”

She looked down as she pulled out of the hug, some of that old shyness sparking in her eyes. “I didn’t think about that,” she said, digging into her pocket. I was hoping that she didn’t leave it behind because she wanted to see me again, but the way she refused to meet my eyes told me it was wishful dreaming. She offered the key to me, and I looked away as I took it from her…and then I walked away. I didn’t say anything to her. I didn’t beg her to see the pain in my eyes. I just walked away.

~~~

Things didn’t get better. I was lost. It wasn’t long before I was drinking ‘til I blacked out every night and having the hair of the dog the next morning to get myself going. I’d go to call her after I finished shooting for the night, and as soon as I remembered I couldn’t call her, that she shacked up with Loki, I put down the phone and picked up a bottle instead.

I wasn’t dealing. I was stewing about Dee, only talking to her over text and ignoring her when she called. So, of course, she called Jared. Of course, he made the bad choice to come up to me when I was looking at an InTouch magazine with Y/n on the cover. Y/n and Tom, on the roof of some restaurant in Atlanta. She looked so flustered, just from holding his hand. Fuck. She used to look at me like that.

“Why the fuck aren’t you answering your phone?” Jared stomped up to me, snatching the magazine out of my hand.

“What are you talkin’ about? I answer my phone all the time.”

“Oh, so you just send your wife to voicemail?” I rolled my eyes and reached for the magazine. I wanted to read the paps’ completely correct theories about Tom and Y/n. He moved out of the way, and I stood up, trying to get it. He moved it out of my reach. “Why aren’t you answering Danneel’s calls?”

“Because I don’t wanna talk to her!”

“She’s your wife!”

“She’s the bane of my existence, right now!” I bit back. Jared’s eyes seemed to flash black. He was a bundle of anger and rage so fucking quick.

He looked down at the magazine in his hand and practically growled as he tossed it across the soundstage. He wrapped his hand in the flannel I was wearing and swung my body around like I was a fucking ragdoll until he had me pressed against the closest wall. "I'm getting really fucking sick of this shit, Ackles. Do you have any idea how Y/n would feel about the way you're acting right now?"

"Get the fuck off of-"

"She would be fucking pissed at you," he snapped, pressing me harder into the wall. Dude's big. I couldn’t have done much against him even if I weren’t still drunk. "She never wanted to be a problem in your marriage. You promised her that she wasn’t going to get in between you and Dee. She's not even here, and she's causing you to act like a fucking fool."

"I'm not a-"

"You are throwing away everything, you fucking dumbass, on a woman who isn't even with you anymore!"

"Whose fault is that?! Who chased her out of my life, huh?"

"She gave you permission, and she's allowed to take it back. She-"

"That's not fair! That's not fair to anyone-"

"That's life! Your wife, who you usually love and adore, decided she wasn't comfortable anymore, and you fucking ignored her until she took it into her own fucking hands. Consent given doesn't mean consent forever.” I grabbed at his wrist, but he just shook his head and released me. “Call your wife, set up an appointment with your counselor, and leave the bottle alone, you understand me? Fucking dumbass.”

I watched him walk away, ignoring the stagehands and PAs staring at us in shock. They'd keep quiet about it, but God damn. Was Jared trying to start fucking rumors across the studio? I looked at the magazine, then pulled my phone out.

"You gotta stop calling Jared on me. If I don't wanna talk, I don't have to."

"Jay. Come on. You can't just ignore me about-"

"I fuckin' can. Because just like you were allowed to say whatever the fuck you wanted to say to Y/n, I'm allowed to decide not to talk to you until I'm done being pissed off about what you did. And this isn't helping anything, you know? Badgering me is going to have the opposite effect of the one you're going for."

"I'm not badgering you," she snapped. "I'm just getting tired of chasing you!"

"Then stop!" I snapped as I walked toward my trailer. "Dee, I'm not going to be able to let this go if you keep pissing me off every other day."

"I'm so sorry that me trying to save our marriage pisses you off so fucking much! When you decide you want to talk to me again, just let me know."

Then she hung up on me. Part of me was angry at her audacity, but mostly I was happy that I wouldn't have to worry about dodging her calls for a while. I was being a dick, but I couldn’t see past how I was feeling. Something in my brain wouldn't let me see how I was fucking everything up. I wanted to feel how I felt, and nothing was going to get in the way of that, not Dee and not Jared and definitely not Dr. Douchebag.

~~~

Things with Jared were tense for the next couple of weeks, especially after he came to me to show a post some fan made, accusing me of cheating on Dee with Y/n. The fan obviously didn't know what went down, but they got really fucking close with their guesses. As soon as I read it, I knew Y/n must be freaking out, but I couldn't bring myself to do the same. Part of me wanted the whole thing out in the open, so I could get some support from somewhere, even if it was from the fans who would agree with me no matter what I did.

Jared was watching me, expectantly, as I read through the post. I'm sure he thought I'd freak out too, but I just shrugged. "Who gives a fuck?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"It's a bunch of allegations from a fan who said, themselves, that they hope they're crazy."

"This is right on the edge of you being caught. Don't you care about the rules anymore?"

"I'm not gonna get caught because I'm not doing anything. Tell Y/n it doesn't fucking matter," I said, completely dismissing him as I walked away from him to go sulk in my trailer for a few minutes. "This is the stupidest shit. Still gotta be worried about getting caught when I don't even have her anymore."

I started pacing. What other option did I have to get the angry energy out? I wasn't supposed to drink because that's selfish. I wasn’t supposed to sulk because that's selfish. I wasn’t supposed to feel because that's fucking selfish! So I paced, and I got angrier...and then I took a drink. Not a strong one or a big one...just enough of a beer to get me level so I could shoot my next scenes.

"I got her to calm down," Jared said when I got back to the Bunker set. "But she's fucking worried about you."

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine."

"That why you smell like beer? Cause you're fine?"

I clicked my tongue against my teeth and turned away. "How about you and Y/n mind your own damn business, and I'll mind mine?"

"You are my business, Ackles, and if you're acting like an idiot because of Y/n, then it's her business too."

I shook my head. "Actually, it's not. I'm fine. Whether I've gotta have a bit of something to help me through the day or not, it doesn’t matter because I'm making it through. I'm doing my job, so why don't you focus on yours?" I asked, pointedly, as Phil Sgriccia settled into his chair.

Jared just shook his head at me.

~~~

A couple of days later, a week at the most, I got done shooting and grabbed my phone. I hovered my thumb over Y/n’s contact for a minute, thinking about calling her, checking on her, professing my love again and hoping she'd care, or even just to tell her I forgave her and hoped she would extend the same courtesy...but I didn’t. I parked my ass on one of the stools at the breakfast bar in my trailer and Googled her name. Not in a stalker way, just to check up on her and her career.

A dozen tabloid articles popped up. "Tom Hiddleston Declares Love For Marvel Costar" and "What We Know About Tom and Y/n" and "Tom Shocks Fans With Facebook Post". I clicked on whatever the Daily Mail wrote and was taken to Tom’s Facebook page. I gasped a little at the picture of Y/n. It was obviously taken without her knowledge and definitely shared without her permission. She was in just an oversized black t-shirt, not hers. She was standing in a hotel room, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window, wearing just his fucking shirt...and he posted that for the world to see.

Under the picture was a block of text.

6 months ago saw a rewrite to the Marvel Cinematic Shorts Anthology script, which brought a new minor character. Kevin Feige knew who he wanted in the role before the script was even done being altered; a relatively unknown actress with a single acting credit to her name- y/f/n y/l/n. I was immediately drawn to the woman and asked her for drinks before we’d finished in Hair and Makeup the morning I met her. I’d fallen in love before the week was out. Y/n is a private woman, not used to being so in the public eye, so I acceded to her request for discretion, portraying myself as her friend whenever someone might be looking. I tried to convince her several times that we should go public over the past 2 months and she dismissed each attempt. This morning I discovered the reason. She’s expecting I will leave. She doesn’t want anyone profiting on her heartbreak or to give them a reason to judge or, worse, pity her. But I’m not planning to leave. I have no desire to be another on her short list of past relationships. I’ve resisted the urge to shout the truth of my heart from the rooftops, but no longer. I’m in love with this sweet Southern woman and leaving her is not an option for my heart.

I read it twice, my heart pounding in my ears. As pissed as I was when she walked away, it was nothing compared to the rage I felt reading that post. He told the world. He shouted his love from social media rooftops. He praised her in public in a way I could never have done. They were real. They were going to last. As I imagined the marriage proposal that was sure to come and be announced in a similar public fashion in the next few months, I couldn’t hold the anger back anymore. My phone hit the fridge door, denting the stainless steel and breaking into a hundred pieces of glass, plastic, and electrical components. Since it was closest, the Kuerig was next to fly, hitting the TV and creating a spiderweb of cracks across the screen. I grabbed the stool next, bashing it into the floor over and over until I lost the steam of my anger, and I dropped to the floor to pant and let out a few angry tears...which turned into me sobbing on the floor among my broken belongings.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Five)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 12.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?) sad oc, mentions of sex, kind of over the clothes action, drama, heated dance session lol, slight memory of sex, hair pulling, back scratching, mention of boner, second chances (?)

Notes: Okay, first of all THAT 1st TEASER PIC!!! DID WE SEE THAT? *chefs kiss*. Anyway thanks for comments you guys leave I really love reading them!!! Remember to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) have a great week everyone!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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May

Gloomy: The dictionary may describe it as hopeless and despairing but really it should just be a picture of your sad, sad face.

1 month…yes, one whole month has passed since you last spoke to Jungkook. No text, no calls, no random show ups, nothing. Gloom. Gloom. Gloom. Graduation came and gone so quickly…you walked the stage with your friends minus two but honestly you can hardly remember the event. You tried your hardest to be as excited as everyone else but the feeling of gloom stayed with you.

By the end of the month you finally started accepting he isn’t coming back and right around that time you actually heard from him—Jungkook that is. He sent you a pathetic text that he’s moving out and will be by to retrieve his things. More gloom.

The next couple weeks after that are a blur, you recall the sound of movers throughout your apartment. You didn’t have the courage to speak to him…you didn’t have the courage to even leave your room if you didn’t have to. You were so wrapped up in everything you didn’t even consider that fact that you will have to find a new roommate to cover the other half of the rent.

Every day just dragged on, every day a repeat of the last. Wake up, drown in black coffee, scroll mindlessly through your phone and work your full time job. You called in sick too many days already so you have to go or you’re at risk at getting fired. The same day, every day. The same gloomy fucking day.

Jimin tried to call or text every day to make sure you were like, alive. He apologized over and over for not telling you as soon as he found out about the Taehyung situation but he felt that if Taehyung was going to tell you then it is best it comes from him and not Jimin. You can understand that. He also frequently would show up at your apartment to surprise you but you rarely let him in. You did feel bad though, he’s just trying to be there for you.

Jimin 6:04pm

Please let me in?

Jimin 6:05pm

Well…I have some take out for you babe, ill leave it on the doorstep.

Jimin 6:05pm

Call me sometime ok? Love you

Guilt would consume your body but you just couldn’t deal with human contact right now.

June

Around month 2 you finally felt okay to see people again—your close people that is—aka Jimin was finally allowed in, he made you take a hot bath while he cleaned up for you and made you a proper meal. The amount of instant ramen containers lying around the place was by far one of the grossest things he’s seen. The shit that was growing…he shudders just thinking about it.

He would come over every day after work in the evenings. He left day time babysitting to Trina.

“Girl…all this over a boy?” she would constantly say.

You also tried applying for job after job, but the postgraduation life is harder than you thought…at least for you. Jimin landed a job as a kids choreographer, Trina starts up at one of the local elementary schools as a kindergartner teacher and you? You’re still working at the bakery down the street. You applied for many entry level positions in the marketing field but failed miserably in interviews…which only further discouraged you and worsened your mood.

It was also around this time you decided to finally delete Jungkook off all social media and block his number. You refuse to hear from him at this point…not that he was reaching out or anything. You wonder what he’s up to postgraduation? No, you don’t want to know or care. You considered hanging up a picture of his face on your wall so you could throw darts at it but you decided that was maybe on the crazy side. Taehyung sends you weekly texts, asking about how your day/week is going. He updates you on his life as well, apparently he got the curator assistant position at the museum that he wanted. You still feel hurt over everything but you are happy for him. It’s funny, you feel so betrayed over that but Jungkook is the cause of your gloom.

Every day just drags on, you feel heavy everywhere you go. Even when you’re just at home in bed.

By the end of the month your friends somehow convinced you to go on a date—a horrible date at that.

He was awkward as hell, a bad kisser and would lightly…tap your ass in attempt to be sexy. It was a disaster, you don’t even remember what the two of you even talked about at dinner. You just remember his tongue being horribly shoved down your throat and his weird ass tapping habit.

July

Then month 3 finally came around. A month where the weeks went by breathing became just a bit easier. Yes, any and everything still reminded you of Jungkook but it didn’t hurt as terribly as the previous months. By the end of the month you even agreed to your first real social outing. You are hesitant, but you agreed…

“I don’t know guys…a birthday party? We like, don’t even know the girl?” you frown, nibbling on the flesh of your bottom lip.

You are sitting in the middle of your bedroom floor, clothes piling all around you as you try to decide on what to wear.

“You need to get out babe…plus it’s a friend of a friend, so it’s cool.” Jimin says holding up a rose colored crop top, motioning for you to nod yes or no to his suggestion. You cock your head to the side, deciding what pants to go with it.

“I have to say I agree with Jimin, y/n.” your new roommate Holly chips in, “Since I’ve moved in I don’t think I’ve seen you go out even once.”

“Also a party is the best place to find some easy dick.” Of course that’s what Trina has to offer.

“Yes to the crop top Jimin.” You point your head towards the shirt, “Okay don’t have to call me out like that Holly.” You glare at your roomie, “And Trina, we both know I ain’t ready for no type of dick.”

“So we’re looking for some pussy tonight?” Trina smirks, “Nice.”

You rolls your eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips, “Shut up.” you throw a pair of shorts at her face.

“But seriously y/n…Maybe Trina is on to something…” Jimin sits down next to you, crossing his legs in front of him, “Maybe this is a good chance to like—”

“If you say move on I will literally kill you.” You cut in, “There’s nothing to move on from!” you throw your hands up dramatically. “Taehyung used me, Jungkook wants nothing to do with me. And—”

“Then why aren’t you ready for any type of dick?” Holly puts in her 2 fucking cents.

“Because I don’t want to be associated with any boys! Jimin is the exception.”

“Somehow I don’t feel flattered by that…” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder.

“When’s the last time you got off?” Trina abruptly asks. You turn your head in shock at her shamelessness.

“Trina!”

“Answer her, I’m curious too.” Jimin squints at you trying not to laugh.

“It’s…” your eyes slide to the side, “It’s been a while.”

Trina shakes her in disapproval, “Damn girl, really? My fingers constantly playing DJ, you know what I’m sayin?” Trina goes in for a fist bump but you just push her hand away.

“You’re gross.” You laugh out loud, and it sounds like music to everyone’s ears.

“I’m just real babey.” She flicks her hair back with a proud smile on her face.

Having these 3 around has no doubt helped you deal with the loss you feel. You feel like you are still mourning the dead. How’s Jungkook even doing? You’re too afraid to ask Jimin. Too afraid that he’s doing amazing without you. He must of realized how much better off he is without you around and that makes you feel small.

“Fine…” you mutter under your breath…Jimin snaps his head to look at you, his sly smile growing as he watches you fiddle with a short mini skirt.

“Fine what?” Trina asks with a smirk.

“Let’s find me some dick tonight.”

“Hell fucking yeah.” Jimin claps his hands together, “Tonight is about you!”

“y/n makes her debut tonight! She’s hot, she’s single and she is ready to mingle!”

You can’t help but giggle, your hands bunching up the material of the mini skirt as you look down at it, making your decision.

“Let me get ready and we can get this night started!” you rush to your feet, all the sudden feeling excited for tonight. You are going to actually do your hair and your makeup—you even shaved. You are definitely breathing easier tonight and you have to take advantage of that!

“Let’s do shots as we wait girlies,” Holly shows a bottle of rum she had hiding behind her back, shaking it in excitement.

“Naughty girl.” Jimin winks, standing to his feet, heading towards the kitchen to grab some shot glasses.

You get ready quickly, but taking your time where it counts. You give yourself a once over in the mirror and you have to say you are impressed. Your black jean mini skirt sits right below your ass, while your tits pop in this rose crop top. You wear short heels, and simple jewelry with just the right amount of makeup that makes your features stand out, and you have to say you would kiss yourself if you could—you look fucking good.

“woooooo” Jimin and Trina whistle out at the same time as they walk back in your bedroom.

“I’d fuck.” Jimin says plainly.

“Same as fuck.” Trina says bluntly as she swallows down a shot.

“Yeah you look pretty y/n!” Holly smiles, not really on the same level of honestly as your other two friends.

You burst into giggles, throwing your head back in approval. “Thanks guys…..Lets fucking do this.” You walk towards Trina and grab her shot glass, and you take the bottle from Holly, pouring yourself a shot.

“Ready to fucking mingle.” You gulp down the rum, the burn only encouraging you, the warmth stinging your entire chest and you couldn’t feel more content.

This house was one of the bigger ones, it was full of people and more people and like, more people. You managed to swallow down 3 or 4 shots back at your apartment and the alcohol is definitely working its magic on you, the world just a little nicer.

The amount of people doesn’t even bother you like it usually would, instead you find yourself barging through the front door and making your way to the dance floor with your 3 friends trialing behind you.

The heat of the living room is already intoxicating you, the amount of bodies rolling and grinding makes you feel loose and free. Before you know it Jimin is pushing a drink into your hands and you hug him gratefully as you begin chugging it back.

“Woah slow down, we have all night—actually fuck it, I like your spirit tonight!” he chuckles lightly, his hands going to your waist, rocking you to the beat of the blaring music. Trina and Holly disappear into the kitchen to grab more drinks while you and Jimin dance to whatever b…t…ah, forget it, you forgot the band’s name.

“Are you having fun?” Jimin slurs out, his eyes barely visible as he laughs at nothing.

“So much fun!” you yell out over the music then you lean down into his ear and whisper, “Thanks so much Jiminie…I know I was a little difficult…”

“A little?” he teases.

Jimin’s eyes travel behind you before they are widening. You notice, of course. You are about to turn your head to take a look at whatever he is seeing when his snaps back to you in panic, his troubled smile growing.

“Let’s go find Trina and Holly, yeah?” he tries to usher you toward the kitchen and you oblige. Too drunk and feeling too good that his odd behavior goes ignored by you.

“Kay!” you smile, hooking your arm with his. “Letsa go!” you say like you’re fucking Mario.

The two of you walk to the kitchen, finding Trina and Holly playing a game of beer pong with two random guys.

“Hello my bitches!” Trina hollers over the thumping bass, as she scores a cup of pong, her other hand on Hollys lower back.

“Wait, gotta use the bathroom, be right back!” you slur into Jimin’s ear, he just nods distractedly as he watches the game, laughter erupting his body for probably no drunken reason.

You walk back into the living room and start heading towards the other side where the bathroom is. The journey to the bathroom is fun, you accidently bump into a lot of people but they don’t seem to mind as they will just drunkenly smile at you and you would smile back in your own drunken daze. You skim the room with a dopey smile on your face, just admiring the crowd. You are shocked with yourself…you missed people and you cannot believe it. You continue to observe when your eyes land on tattooed hands. The hands are grabbing a handful of ass on the dance floor. You know these hands. Your eyes travel from his hands to his strong arms to his face…it is hiding in the nook of some girls neck and you feel like someone knocked the wind out of you. Jungkook.

He is kissing on some girl, no doubt leaving bruises behind from his attack on her neck. His hands cupping this girls ass so tightly, he guides her hips into his. You watch as she throws her head back in pleasure and you see him smirk. All his signature moves. You are left speechless. What could you even say? Why does this hurt? Why does this make you feel fucking sick? Why does it feel like you aren’t supposed to be witnessing this? Well, you know why but god, why?!

“y/n!!” It’s Jimin, jogging up behind you, “Fuck, I was trying to avoid you seeing this…” he admit softly, “I swear I didn’t think he was going to be here tonight…he didn’t seem that interested when I asked him about it…”

“It’s fine Jimin…” you mumble.

“Does it feel weird? Seeing him with this girl…?” Jimin is obviously trying to get you to admit something right now but you are not in the right head space to even give it a second thought.

“Why should it? Plus I’m used to this…she’s just some random girl for one night.” You twirl the ends of your hair between your fingers.

“Oh babe…” Jimin glances down at the ground, “This girl…she…he’s brought her to every party for the last month…” Jimin sounds as sorry as you feel.

The same girl? That’s impossible, you scoff. There’s no way Jungkook is actually seeing someone. But that doesn’t stop your stomach from twisting and turning and making you feel fucking sick.

“What do you mean?” you finally slur out, leaning your frame on Jimin.

“He brings her and they leave together too…” Jimin holds on to you, “I haven’t really asked him about her though.”

“Whatever. Fuck him, right? I won’t let this ruin my night.” You smile coyly, draping your arms around your friend. “Bathroom please.” You pout theatrically, pointing your head towards the bathroom.

“Okay let’s get you peeing in peace.” Jimin laughs, guiding you towards the door.

Once at the door, you knock a couple times to find that it is empty, “I’ll wait for you out here.” Jimin assures you.

Once inside the small room, you bunch up your skirt and pull down your panties, squatting on the toilet. You sigh in relief as you pee, but the relief you feel in your body stops when you recall the way Jungkook held and kissed this random but not so random girl.

Why should it bother you? It’s about time Jungkook got serious! But why did he have to dump you to achieve that? And why did It have to be with someone el…

You reach for the toilet paper, ripping it after a few sheets and wipe yourself as you drunkenly sing a tune. So what? You can easily replace Jungkook too!

You stand up, pulling your panties up and your skirt down and take a long good look in the mirror. Your hair is still intact, your makeup is only a little smeared—quick fix, and your tits are still poppin’. This night is just beginning, you decide. A whole new wave of confidence begins washing over you.

“Ready!” You pounce on Jimin’s back, he stumbles forward while laughing wholeheartedly.

“Should we look for Trina and Holly again? They’re probably still playing beer pong!”

“Sure.” You smile, walking hand in hand with Jimin as you make your way back to the kitchen.

Hours pass and you are now outside on the back porch piss drunk with your 3 friends and a couple new friends. Nick and his pal that you can’t remember the name of—but you remember Nick. He’s really tall and has nice muscles covering his body, his light hair is messy and looks like you would have fun pulling it.

“And that’s why I think aliens are already here bro, like they are probably here at this fucking party bro.” No name friend finishes his point. Nick holds in his chuckle as his drunk friend rambles.

“Totally bro.” Then his eyes land on you. Fuck, were you staring? Oh well, it’s best to get to the point. You two have been making eyes at each other all night and it’s time to make the next move.

“Hey Nick, wanna grab a drink with me in the kitchen?” you inquire with a sly smile.

Jimin’s eyes widen before he’s smirking “Don’t be silly, wrap that willy.”

Trina and Holly laugh at Jimin’s words while you turn fucking red with embarrassment.

“Sorry about him…” You excuse Jimin, but you continue to smile slyly.

Nick grins with all his teeth as he takes your hand and leads you back inside the house. His hand is much larger than yours and you are already imagining what his beefy fingers will do to your vagina. God, what’s his dick like???

You enter the kitchen and you and him walk towards the cooler full of beers, he lets you stand to the side as he goes to grab them.

“Nick!!!!” you hear a familiar voice and you wince. Jungkook stands next to the cooler, his hand wrapped around the girls hand, but he briefly lets go of it to dap up your fuck for the night.

“What’s up bro!” Nick returns the handshake, a wide smile on his face.

They know each other?

“I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight?” Jungkook’s hand goes back to holding on to the girl.

“I wasn’t going to but,” he nods towards you, “Glad I did.” He winks. Jungkook’s eyes follow Nicks nod and when he sees you stand there awkwardly he goes completely pale. Your eyes meet uncomfortably, Jungkook let’s go of the girls hand without a second thought.

“y/n?” he questions with a pained expression.

“You know her?” Nick asks, totally out of the loop.

You shift from one foot to the other, not really sure what to do or say. So you settle for his name. “Jungkook.” It feels foreign on your tongue. Like if you said it 3 times in a mirror a sinister ghost would come to murder you.

Jungkook opens his mouth then closes it then opens it then closes it again.

“Baaaaabe,” the girl next to him whines, “let’s get out of here already.” She says, not even acknowledging your existence.

Jungkook shamelessly eyes you up and down, his shock is very evident as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile a little, knowing you look damn good.

“Let’s go too, Nick.” You saunter to his side, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

That’s when Jungkook knocks out of daze, his brows crease as he looks between the two of you.

“Wait—you and Nick?” he asks, completely amused.

“Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” Jungkook looks fucking smug as he smiles, his hand going to grab the girls hand again. “See you later?” he asks you. You of all people! “Uh? Probably not?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Jungkook winks, turning around to leave as he leads his girl out.

Nick just continues to smile, completely oblivious, “So cool that we all know each other!” he grips on to your waist.

“Wait, how do you know Jungkook?”

“We—”

“Wait, it honestly doesn’t matter. Let’s just get out of here.”

“My place?” Nick breathes into your ear, he pushes your hips into his crotch so you can feel his half hard cock.

“Why are you already getting hard?” you tease, leaning up to kiss his neck.

“Honestly, I can’t stop staring at your tits. And I am imagining all the things I want to do to them.” He confesses hotly.

The uber ride to his place is short, only 10 minutes and it goes by quickly as you two have one another’s tongues down each others throats. His hands traveling all around your body, he even manages to slip his fingers past your panties to feel how wet you are.

“Fuck I can’t wait to get you inside…” his rapid breaths fan across your face as you nibble on his neck.

“Gonna fuck me?” you whisper quietly, not trying to get heard by the Uber driver, but you could also hardly care if he hears you or not, he gets 5 stars.

“Want you to ride me.” He palms his cock through his pants as he imagines you bouncing on his cock for him.

“If you deserve it like a good boy.” You replace his hand with your own, rubbing him ferociously over his jeans. You haven’t felt dick in months and the feeling is driving you absolutely wild, you haven’t felt this needy in a long time.

The Uber comes to a stop, parking in front of an apartment building. He lets the two of you know you reached your destination. You and Nick giggle as you thank him and stumble out of the car as you follow him to his apartment. He would stop every few seconds to plant kisses on your lips and grab your ass with a tight squeeze. He groans and rolls his eyes back as he explores your body.

“Wait til we’re inside,” you breathe out, your voice silky as hell.

Finally, after a short, kiss filled elevator ride later you arrive at his front door. His lips never leaving yours as he pulls out his keys, fumbling with them until he finds the right one.

He pulls away for a second to unlock the door and desperately pushes it open to let the two of you inside. Your lips are already back on his as you two trip into the entry way of the apartment, you walk him backwards, until his back is against a wall.

The apartment is dark besides the living room TV, you take a second to pull back and admire Nick’s fucked out expression, the blue glow of the TV making everything feel surreal.

You dive back in to kiss him, he prods his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around with yours making you moan into his mouth.

“Hi guys!”

Your eyes shoot open, mouth still attached to Nicks. You push your head back, disconnecting from Nick and yank your head to the left where you see a wild Jungkook sitting on the living room sofa, his mouth full of the cereal he is eating. He is wearing the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on him.

“Jungkook?! What the fuck?” You spit out, totally fucking shocked. Like, obviously.

“Hey man…” Nick breathes out heavily, trying to speak properly, “I thought you would be at Vanessa’s tonight?”

“Nah,” Jungkook smiles, “Dropped her off and came home.”

HOME?

“H-Home?” You look between the two guys, what the fuck does he mean by that. This is Nicks place, right?

“Oh you didn’t know?” Jungkook nods his head toward Nick, “Nick here is my beloved roommate.”

“What the fuck…” you mutter under your breath, trying to understand the mother fucking situation. Were you about to fuck Jungkook’s roommate? Are you still going to is the real question?

“Wait, how do you two even know each other?” Nick starts to look antsy, “Don’t tell me she’s one of the girls you’ve fucked…come on bro, leave some for the rest of us.” He chuckles somewhat bitterly.

“No!” you’re quick to say. You begin smoothing out your skirt, then your hair. “We just…”

“y/n is my bestie!” Jungkook grins, putting the cereal down and standing up. He walks forward until he is making a triangle with you and Nick.

“Was.” You spit out harshly, crossing your arms across your chest. Nick just stands there confused as hell, looking between the two of you.

“Anyway, I should get going.” You turn your body to Nick, a look of apology on your face.

“What? We can just go to my room?” he slurs, tugging on his pants uncomfortably, his boner still apparent.

“Sorry, no longer in the mood.”

You pull out your phone to order an Uber when Jungkook takes your phone from you.

“I’m not drunk, I can drive you.” He offers. You push your head back in disbelief, how does Jungkook have the AUDACITY to offer that to you?

“Why the fuck would I want that?”

“So we can…” His eyes slide over to the ever growing confused Nick, “Talk.”

You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in 3 months and today is finally the day you are able to breathe a little easier and he just has to barge back in.

“Like I said,” You snatch your phone back from him, “Why the fuck would I want that?”

Nick shifts around uncomfortably, his eyes darting from you to Jungkook.

“Well, I am gonna head to my room…uh, bye y/n…it was nice meeting you…I guess…”

You and Jungkook both turn your heads toward Nick at the same time, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Yeah, bye.” Jungkook dismisses his roommate, his jaw clenching.

“Nice to meet you too…”

Nick walks backward until his back meets his bedroom room, he looks at the two of you one last time before turning around to disappear into his room.

“I said, let me drive you home.”

“And I said, why the fuck would I want that?”

“y/n don’t choose now to be difficult.” Jungkook takes a step closer to you, his hands running through his dark, messy hair. His eyes shut in frustration, “I just want to talk to you.”

“And I don’t want to talk to you.” You take a step back, “Plus, how would your girlfriend feel if you took me home?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his mouth setting in a firm line.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Could of fooled me and like, everyone else.” You scoff.

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip, not knowing what to say. While she’s not his girlfriend she’s also not not his girlfriend. It’s complicated.

“Can I please, just please, can I take you home?”

“No, Jungkook. The fucking audacity,” you scoff again, “You haven’t spoken to me in 3 months,” your voice fucking cracks and you feel like dying. “Don’t start now.”

“y/n…” he runs another frustrated hand down his tired face, “I didn’t mean for it to go this long…” “I don’t fucking care, Jungkook.”

You feel your chest begin to burn, and your eyes begin to gloss over but you won’t cry. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

You stare at the phone in your hands as you begin ordering your Uber when he yanks it from your hands once again, he hides the phone in his back pocket and you snarl.

“What the hell Jeon?”

“I said I am driving you home so we can talk so that’s what we are gonna fucking do, okay?” he grabs your hand and begins walking you towards the front door. There’s something about Jungkook...you decide to listen. You watch silently as he puts on his shoes and grabs his wallet and keys.

“Okay…” you finally answer, your voice timid.

He said you guys are going to talk but the car ride has been mostly silent save the low radio playing in the background. Maybe it’s better this way, you think. You aren’t sober, that’s for sure but you also don’t think you are drunk enough to handle this properly. You decide maybe that’s also for the best.

“You sir, are a fucking asshole.” You speak up, your fingers playing with the zipper of your purse. The car smells like it always does, his fresh laundry car freshener and you get sucked into a million memories linked with this scent.

“I know.” Jungkook eyes you from the driver seat, you shiver from the running AC and so he turns it down, “There’s a blanket in the back if you want to grab it.”

“No thanks, don’t know where that’s been.”

“It’s clean, I promise.”

Your eyes go wide as you recall his last promise to you…”Just a few days. I promise.”

“Yeah, I don’t actually believe in your promises anymore.” You continue to pick at the zipper of your purse, your eyes never leaving the zig and zag of the material.

“I needed space y/n, fucking sue me.” He groans out, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Oh I wish I could.” You snap back.

You feel your chest burn and tighten again, your eyes slightly watering. You have to force them shut to keep from any tears growing.

“I called and texted you every day.” You whisper, his grip getting tighter on the steering wheel.

“I gave you a few days Jungkook. But I never heard from you until 11 at night one night telling me you are fucking moving out.”

“I know, that was…fucked up, I admit. But I had to do what I had to do and I just wish you would let me explain that—”

“No.” you cut him off, “You don’t deserve to explain anything.”

“You mean so much to me y/n…”

“Don’t.”

Jungkook pulls over on the side of the road, turning off the ignition.

“What are you doing?” you sputter out.

He clicks his seatbelt off his body and turns to face you, “Getting comfortable.”

“Why?”

“Will you look at me?” Jungkook tilts his head towards you, “Will you please look at me?”

“No.” you stay facing forward, your hands folded in your lap.

“y/n…please.” His voice sounds strained and you almost feel bad. Almost, but not quite.

You don’t need this…you don’t need him. Ouch, you feel pain in your chest as you think that…oh, the lies you tell yourself.

“Say what you need to say Jungkook, so you can take me home.” Your face stays neutral.

Jungkook sighs out, feeling almost defeated, but not quite.

“I…I am so sorry.” He finally says.

“About what?”

“Everything y/n.” his voice cracks and somehow you feel satisfied.

“You’ll have to be more specific if you ever want my acceptance”

“I know…the first thing I am sorry for is not telling you about Taehyung. That was…that was wrong of me—”

“No shit, but go on.” Your voice stays steady as you speak.

“I was worried about other shit, I was selfish and it’s taking me a long time to forgive myself…but I’ve thought a lot about it these last few months and—and…”

“Oh? You’re worried about you forgiving yourself? Shouldn’t you be a little more concerned about I don’t know, me?”

Jungkook frowns at your words, because well, you’re right. And he’s getting to that part but you keep interrupting him. But he lets you.

“Yes. I am most worried about you, of course.” He breathes out. “You have no idea what these 3 months without you have felt like…”

“Really Jungkook? If anyone knows its fucking me. I went 3 months without you too. You left me!” you start to lose your composure as you speak, your hands gripping on to your poor purse. “When I was going through a really hard time you straight up left me.” You whisper.

“Please believe me…I had my reasons. It was truly for the best y/n.”

“For the best?” you scoff. “You’re such an asshole.”

Jungkook winces at your words, he knows you mean them and that hurts him even more.

“Can you just trust me?” Jungkook blurts out.

Huh? You shake your head, disappointed he would say something so …well, ridiculous.

“Just stop, Jungkook.” You hesitantly roll your eyes, still shaking your head.

Jungkook licks his lips over and over, trying to figure out his next words.

“I really really,” he begins to lose it, his eyes darting all around the car. “just need you to trust me.” He blinks repeatedly, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular.

You, of course, do not believe your ears. Trust him? How could you possibly trust him?

“I just really…I really had my reasons y/n. And I’m sorry, but I just need you to just trust me, that I had my reasons and that I do care about you.” His voice is shaky and you’re uncertain how to take this information.

“I’m confused…” you begin, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You want me to trust you? Even after you left me? Even after I ‘threw myself’ at you?!”

“You weren’t in the right head space y/n…you were vulnerable and…and you didn’t actually want me. You just were feeling used and rejected and needed something to make you feel wanted. To feel better. You wanted to use me for that and I couldn’t let you. But how much could I handle? You liked one of my friends, dated him…sort of, even slept with him and I had to be your shoulder to cry on when,” his breathing picks up heavily as he tries to speak, “it doesn’t matter.” He grits out.

You sit there…speechless. He wasn’t wrong, was he? You were feeling lost and rejected and used and you just wanted something or someone to feel better and who better than your best friend? But it’s also his fault you needed things to work out with Taehyung in the first place!

“Jungkook—”

“I’m not done.” He breathes out, his hot breath reaching your skin.

“I needed some space to think. But I realized I couldn’t properly think things through if I saw you every day, so yeah, I moved out. I’m sorry…” He runs a hand through his hair, a light chuckle makes it way past his lips “Then I met Vanessa.”

“I don’t want to talk about your little girlfriend.” You turn to face forward in your seat, your eyes glancing at the stop sign ahead.

“I told you, she’s not my girlfriend. But it is complicated.”

You continue to look straight ahead, your heart racing in your chest. The subject of “Vanessa” making you feel anxious.

“Complicated how?” you gulp.

“Don’t worry about it.” He laughs to himself, you turn your head to look at him.

“Are you serious, Jungkook?”

“We fuck y/n.”

“But it’s more than that right?”

“Yeah…” Jungkook bites down on his lip.

You look at him bewildered.

“Do you like her? Love her?”

You grip your purse in your lap, waiting for his answer. How would you feel if he answers yes? Are you brave enough to endure that answer? And if he says no? should you be happy? Should you feel relieved?

“No.” he closes his eyes, he folds his hands in front of him. “It’s complicated.”

You sign in relief—oh. Relief is the emotion you are feeling. Why? Why should it matter?

“Why are you telling me all of this?” you whisper.

“I want to be friends again, y/n.” he says softly, his eyes searching yours.

This is madness, how the hell could you save this friendship? Your face scrunches up and the first couple of tears slide down your cheeks, you shake your head as they continue to fall.

“You don’t know how this makes me feel…” you cry out. “I don’t even know how it makes me feel.”

You miss him, so fucking much and he’s right here offering himself to you. But you ‘re so hurt.

“y/n…I know I hurt you. But you gotta believe me when I say it is the hardest thing I have had to do…you understand that right? I had to do it…you understand right?” he begs.

“You were so quick to abandon me, Jungkook.” You drop your head into your hands, the tears uncontrollable now.

“I…” Jungkook begins to panic, his own eyes glossing over. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Please y/n…I can make it up to you.”

“Things would never be the same, you get that right?” you bawl into your lap, your words coming out broken.

“Please baby, I just need you in my life again…” Jungkook admits, his own words choppy. He reaches his hand to touch you, to his surprise you don’t flinch. His hand cups the back of your head and he begins to massage it softly.

“I have missed you so much and nothing I mean nothing can replace you.” He hesitates to continue, “trust me…I have tried.”

You sob into your hands harder, the weight of his words crushing you.

“I’m sorry Jungkook but I…I don’t believe you.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he absorbs your words, his mouth falls open in shock. Don’t believe him?

“What—what do you mean? What are you saying?” his panic filled voice makes your stomach churn.

“I reject your offer. Now please take me home.” You lift your head and stare straight ahead. “I’m serious.”

Jungkook face twists into a bewildered expression, he doesn’t believe his ears. You…reject him?

“Wait—”

“I said take me home now.” This time you snap your face in his direction, the cold look in your eyes piercing his very soul.

“Okay.”

Hopeless: the dictionary describes it as without hope ; despairing. But in reality, it’s just a picture of Jungkook’s poor, poor face.

Jungkook parks in his designated spot in the lot of his apartment complex, he reverses in because why the hell not. So extra. His drive home was silent… not even the radio on a low volume keeping him company, just complete silence. He turns the car off but doesn’t make a move to get out, he just continues to sit here in his car and sigh out dramatically every 5 seconds.

He’s so confused and lost on what to do. He bangs his head against the steering wheel a few times just for the hell of it, he just…he didn’t think you would reject him. But honestly? Can he blame you? All he’s done lately is be selfish and mess up over and over again. But he wishes you could just trust him but he also wishes he could just tell you the truth. Maybe then you could understand his position and you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore. But he has to wait.

Jungkook’s head is still banging against the steering wheel when more thoughts of you bombard his mind. His breathing picks up and he starts to sniffle, he doesn’t want to cry but you just…you don’t want anything to do with him. He balls his hands into fists and hit the steering wheel over and over causing the horn to go off a few times but he doesn’t care he’s so upset, he just….

When Jungkook saw you tonight for the first time in 3 months he swears his heart actually stopped. He swears it raced so quickly that it just stopped. He let go of Vanessa’s hand so quickly because he wanted to rush to you and hug you close, he wanted to just feel you. Not having touched your skin for the last 3 months…he doesn’t want to imagine even another day.

A few tears slip past his closed lids, he chuckles darkly as he recalls you and Nick. He thought, wow, the universe is cruel and also hilarious. His fucking roommate? He shakes his head, laughing again but his lips remain downward. He feels so fucking helpless right now. But he deserves this, he deserves to feel this pain. He did this to himself and he’s fully aware of that.

Jungkook thinks of your face, he thinks of your smile, he thinks of your eyes and he cries harder, his tears landing on the steering wheel and sliding down landing on to his lap. Yes, he feels like all hope is lost but he knows he cannot give up. He will win you over again one day. He lifts his head and wipes his tear streaked cheeks with the back of his hand and breathes out steadily.

“y/n…” he whispers to himself. Your name leaves his mouth in frustration. He won’t give up. He can’t.

~~~~

“And they were roommates?!” Jimin shouts, a banana half sticking out of his mouth, Trina gasps and whispers “Oh my god they were roommates.”

“Yeah, it was a total shit show.” You bang your head against your breakfast table. Holly rubs your back as she sits next to you.

“Then what happened?” she pries further.

“Yeah what the hell happened y/n!” Jimin yells out.

“He asked to be friends again…and I totally rejected him. Maybe I was too harsh? He was so sad guys…it makes me think…I might agree to kind of being…friends?”

Jimin shuts his eyes as a frown decorates his face, he places a hand on his hip and he inhales a sharp breath, “Listen…you’re both my friends and of course I want you to be good again…but he hurt you …bad.”

“I know Jiminie, but his reasons…” you bite your lip, “Never mind.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” Trina butts in. “He fucking left you, remember?”

“Yes Trina, I fucking remember—”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Trina relax,” Holly intervenes. “They have a long history, right? It’s hard to just forget about everything…”

Jimin stands from his chair, hands on both hips. “Fine, if we are doing this…then you better actually try. Don’t half ass shit, if you’re going to be friends then don’t be an asshole to him, don’t make snarky remarks…I know your ass.”

Jimin has a good point, you haven’t actually thought about how you will act.

“I’ll be a good girl.” You raise your right arm to salute him.

“Fucking smart ass.” He rolls his eyes.

“Are we serious right now?” Trina shakes her head, “You moped around for 3 fucking months y/n. You cried every time you even thought of Jungkook…which was a fucking lot.” She points out, “Listen, you stayed strong when you talked to him in the car. Don’t break just because you feel bad for the dude because he’s fucking pitiful. He doesn’t deserve your pity girl. He’s an asshole!”

“Trina, be nice.” Holly says sternly, reaching forward to grab on to Trina’s hand. Trina visibly relaxes and nods her head towards Holly and smiles softly.

You and Jimin share a look. Are they….?

“You…” You slam your eyes shut, Trina’s words ringing loudly in your ears. You know she’s right. “I’ll think about it some more. For now, I gotta get ready for work.”

~~~~

“Doesn’t Hazel look so pretty here?” Adam shoves his phone in your face as he gushes about his girlfriend.

“Yes dude, she’s so pretty.” You deadpan. “Now can you please put the brownies in the oven? We’re low.”

“Wait wait…here’s one of us together at the park.” He nudges his phone in your hands, you roll your eyes but you take it.

The two of them are sitting on a park bench, she’s leaning into his frame and they both have wide smiles on their faces. They seem so in love. And you know they are because fucking Adam reminds you every 20 seconds.

“Their love makes me sick.” Jade walks over, her hands patting down on her work apron, her tone is bland but she still tries to smile. “Like, we get it.”

“Who loves who more?” you begin with a toothy grin, “Adam to Hazel or Lenny to the sugar cookies?” you laugh while pointing at said Lenny stuffing his face with the reject cookies. Jade and Adam chuckle while they stare at him.

“Hey guys, really?” Lenny says with his mouth full. “You know I feel bad when we throw them away.” He pouts, crumbs decorating his lips.

“Lenny I catch you eating fresh ones all the time!” Adam points out.

“Sometimes they’re a little ugly…” Lenny reasons, “So I…”

“You don’t have to explain my guy, you just really love your cookies.” You hand Adam back his phone as you head towards the walk in freezer to take out the brownies yourself. You load up a tray and stick those suckers in the oven.

“You’re useless Adam.” Jade sticks a piece of gum in her mouth and chews obnoxiously “U-s-e-l-e-s-s. Useless.”

“You’re always so mean to me Jade what did I ever do to you?”

All 4 of you shoot your heads up when you hear the bell go off on the door of the bakery, its loud chime signaling the arrival of a customer.

“Oh.” Jade says while popping a bubble. “It’s your usual customer y/n.”

You tilt your head towards the front of the store to get a look at who she is talking about, and yup its him. Your most consistent customer who orders the same damn thing every single day. 2 oatmeal raisin cookies and that’s it.

“Can someone else just take care of him today?” you whine, “I’m not in the mood to argue.”

“You know he’s just going to ask for you…” Lenny says stuffing his face with another cookie.

“God damn it.” You huff out, you grab two gloves from the box on the counter and begin walking towards the front of the store.

You reach the front counter and take in your enemy—you mean, your customer.

“And what do I owe the pleasure Mister Oatmeal Raisin?” you raise a brow towards the man. He’s only a few inches taller than you, his hair is a sandy color today and you hate to admit it looks good on him.

“You know you could just call me by name.” the man sways side to side with a smirk on his face.

“I like Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He has been coming to this store for the last couple of months and you two…don’t necessarily get along swimmingly. He complains a lot and is a total smart ass. And you? Well, you’re not much better.

“Well, I’ll have my usual.” He smiles, “And you know the drill, please make sure there is a normal amount of raisins and not a million, I don’t want 8 raisins a bite. But one every now and then.”

You roll your eyes extremely dramatically, pressing the buttons on the screen for his order.

“Sir yes sir.” You salute towards him, “How could I not know the drill?”

“That’s the spirit.”

You spin on your heels and head towards the back to heat up his two cookies. You carefully select one cookie with barely any raisins and one cookie with a million, just like he didn’t want. You cackle to yourself as you place them in the baggy, feeling beyond satisfied.

“How haven’t you gotten fired?” Adam crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you, “And how hasn’t he complained about you? You do this every time I don’t get it.”

“He likes her.” Jade says plainly while scrolling through her phone.

“As fucking if!” you scoff, “He wants nothing but to annoy me!” But you can’t help but smile.

“He literally only asks for you every time you’re in.” Lenny reasons, “but you shouldn’t like him back…he likes the worst cookie on the menu. Sugar is where it’s at.”

You laugh at your coworker while walking back up towards the front of the store, reaching the counter.

“Your cookies!” you hand him the baggy with an evil smirk, “I hope you enjoy them.” You wink.

The man opens the baggy and inspects each cookie and with his own evil smirk he winks back at you, “Are we serious right now?” his sly smile doesn’t leave his face as he begins to complain, “You are such a brat.”

“$4 Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He hands you the cash, you put it away quickly and with a wide smile you gesture towards the door for him to leave.

“Min Yoongi.” He shakes the bag of cookies in front of him, “Not Mister Oatmeal Raisin.” He turns around and starts walking towards the door but before he exits he tilts his head to look at you one last time, “See you tomorrow…y/n.”

You feel a harsh blush creep up on your cheeks, or your whole face actually. Maybe your whole body. You feel taken aback he knows your name but then you remember you have a god damn name tag.

“Uh…yeah.”

“See you tomorrow…y/n.” all 3 of your coworkers mock in a deep voice.

“Shut up guys!” you whine into your hands, “Can we please just get back to work!”

~~~~~

A few weeks later

The drive to Jimin’s is a quick 7 minutes but you did take a little detour. You decided to stop at the pizzeria that’s on the way and grab a hot pizza for the two of you.

“Hehe.” You look over to the steamy food sitting in the passenger seat.

Jimin has been such a great friend to you all this time and you feel like you’ve never really thanked him…so, tonight you two are going to have a fun night in—he just doesn’t know it yet.

Who doesn’t love being surprised with food?

You pull up to Jimin’s apartment complex and after driving in circles you finally find a parking spot. You grab your purse, your backpack, and the pizza and make your way up to his apartment.

You knock on his front door a few times but get no answer. Maybe he’s not home? No, you definitely hear music coming from the other side…so, you decide to call him.

“Hello?”

“Jimin~ let me in!” you sing into the phone.

“You’re—you’re here?”

“Let me in already!” and with that you hang up and wait patiently outside the door.

A few moments pass before the door is opening up, when Jimin really registers that it’s you he’s kind of closing the door until only his face is shown through the crack.

“Ummm…yes?”

You quirk a brow at the boy, “What do you mean ‘yes?’ let me in!” you begin walking forward when a panicked Jimin opens the door wider to let himself outside and shut the door behind him.

“y/n…why are you here? Did we have plans tonight?” he looks down at the pizza in your hands.

“Not exactly…” you admit, “But I figured we could have a night in.”

Jimin frowns. Fucking frowns!

“Or not?” you say awkwardly.

You hear some sort of banging on the other side of the door and then it clicks.

“Oh? You have someone over?” you smirk.

“Uhhh…no. Nothing like that.” Jimin’s eyes slide to the side as he tries to think of what to say next.

“Babe—”

“Jimin!”

The door is being swung wide open and your eyes travel from some horrendous toes socks to some tight jeans to a striped t shirt to yes, Jungkook’s surprised face.

“Oh.” You both say at the same time.

You and Jungkook stare at one another for a few moments, neither of your eyes leaving the other when Jimin clears his throat.

“Sorry y/n. Jungkook is already over…” he gives you an apologetic smile.

“Is it just you two?” you ask quietly.

“Huh? Uh, yeah.”

You glance down at the pizza and think to yourself. You and Jungkook may not be friends but you can be civil? Yeah, totally! You can definitely be civil! You already bought this fucking pizza so you and Jimin are going to eat it! And you guess, Jungkook too.

“Okay, let me in.” you start shoving your way past Jimin, you watch as his and Jungkook’s eyes go wide.

“Maybe you didn’t hear him, but I am already hanging out with him?” Jungkook sputters out. He awkwardly moves to the side anyway to let you through.

“I can be civil with you Jungkook. Plus, I don’t want this pizza to go to waste. So let’s eat.” You walk through, nudging the pizza box into Jungkook’s hands, he takes it while looking at Jimin with shocked eyes.

Jimin just shrugs and follows you inside.

“Yeah, let’s eat.” He says nonchalantly.

Jungkook is left at the door with the pizza in his hands as he is left completely dumbfounded. He is malfunctioning.

“Jungkook?” you call out over your shoulder, “Hurry up, I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, Jungkook hurry up!” Jimin smirks, he isn’t totally sure what’s going on but he kind of likes it.

“So what were you guys doing before I got here?” you shove an entire slice of pizza down your throat, the sauce getting left behind on your lips.

“I was teaching Jungkook some of my dance moves…we made a bet that he couldn’t learn the entire routine in 3 times…and—”

“Let me guess, he fucking learned it.” You laugh.

Jimin groans, his head thrown back as he begins nodding his head ‘yes.’

“So annoying! What can’t he do!” Jimin throws the pizza crust in the box and Jungkook immediately picks it up and eats it.

“Pshh, I could name a few things.” You point out bitterly. “But we won’t get into that.”

“Yeah, please don’t.” Jimin pleads.

“I’m curious…what is it you think I cant do?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you and your eyes darken in his direction.

“You really want me to?” you take a napkin and wipe your lips, “It’s nothing nice.” You admit.

“Oh then yes, please don’t.” Jungkook is quick to say.

“Yes, please don’t.” Jimin begs again.

The 3 of you are sitting on the living room floor, maybe only 30 minutes or so has passed by and it’s not too awkward. But it’s not necessarily comfortable either. Jimin looks between you and Jungkook constantly, waiting for someone to crack but neither of you really speak to each other. Both of you really only communicating with Jimin.

“So Jimin, are you going to show me another routine?”

“Why? So you can prove you’re the master of everything again? No thanks.”

“Jimin, maybe you can show me a few steps?”

Jimin smiles awkwardly while Jungkook is quick to burst out laughing. You snap your head towards Jungkook and raise your brows at him.

“Why is Jungkook laughing, Jimin?”

“Umm…” Jimin smiles softly, “You aren’t the most…”

Jungkook laughs harder as he watches Jimin trying to explain.

“Aren’t the most…?” You tilt your head towards the boy.

“C’mon y/n don’t make me say it…” Jimin drags out his words in a whine, he plays with his fingers, looking around the room awkwardly.

“Just say it Jimin.” Jungkook chuckles out.

“If you’re trying to say I’m a bad dancer, we all know that’s not true!” you defend once you catch on, you pout at the boys.

“Well…”

“You have both told me I am a good dancer!”

“Well, you know how to move. But steps…following a routine…that’s different. You aren’t very coordinated.” Jimin finally admits, a sheepish grin on his face.

“He means you can roll your hips but your feet are clumsy as fuck.” Jungkook says, still laughing at the situation.

“Shut up.” You glare at Jungkook.

“No, he’s right.” Jimin begins laughing as well, he looks at you and smiles. Well, if Jimin is saying it…maybe it might be true. It’s not like you didn’t kind of know. But still!

“Fine, whatever. Don’t teach me then.”

Suddenly, Jimin’s phone is going off and he rushes to the kitchen to answer it. You and Jungkook eat your pizza in silence, awkwardly catching one another’s gaze.

“So—”

“Don’t talk to me.” You cut in. Jimin isn’t here so it’s not like you have to be totally social with Jungkook.

“Oh.” Jungkook dramatically slumps his shoulders and pouts. You watch him as he throws a silent fit like the baby he is. “Okay.”

Jimin walks back into the living room looking annoyed, he stands between you two and throws a hand on his hip.

“I have to go down to the front office, there was a mix up in packages…I shouldn’t take too long…” he bites down on his plump bottom lip, “Please be civil while I’m gone. Jungkook…” he looks at the boy then at you, “y/n…” he warns.

“Sir yes sir!” you salute towards your friend with a straight face.

Jimin only narrows his eyes as he looks between you two.

“I’m serious…” he says.

Then he is putting on some shoes and heading out the front door, the soft click making you shudder. You’re alone with Jungkook.

A few minutes pass and you both awkwardly just sit there, sometimes catching the other looking. You finally huff out and accidentally giggle.

“What’s funny?” Jungkook’s curiosity getting the best of him.

“It’s just…I feel like we’re Jimin’s divorced parents and we’re trying to be civil for our child.”

Jungkook stares at you with scrunched brows, then looks away while a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

You only nod your head in response. You two go back to the awkward silence.

You aren’t used to this…this awkward and odd silence that lingers between you two. It feels so fucking suffocating you almost wish you were on total talking terms so you didn’t have to endure this shit show.

“You know I could…no, forget it.” Jungkook bites his nails as he speaks, “I…”

“What?” you don’t mean to snap at him, but somehow even talking with an attitude feels better than not talking at all.

“I was going to say…I could teach you some steps…then you could surprise Jimin. He’s been working on a salsa piece…I can teach you some? Then maybe he will stop talking shit on your dancing.” Jungkook laughs awkwardly.

“Wait—he talks shit?!” somehow this doesn’t surprise you in the least.

“Only a little.” Jungkook shows you how little with his pointer finger and thumb. “But uh, want me to show you?”

“I don’t even want to talk to you, you think I want to dance with you?” you raise a brow in amusement. You forget this boy has all the audacity.

“Dancing doesn’t have to have any talking.” Jungkook states with a sly smile.

“So you’re just going to show me the steps?”

“Precisely.”

You don’t know why, but this sounds better than actually speaking and/or just sitting in miserable silence. And maybe, just maybe you have a desire to be close to him.

“You think I could learn in time before Jimin gets back?”

“With me as your teacher? Definitely.” He fucking smirks at you and you can’t help but feel that feeling in your stomach. Not necessarily a bad feeling but a fucking feeling.

Jungkook stands to his feet and extends his hand out to you for you to take.

“Here, stand up.”

Your eyes travel from his hands to his eyes and you blink lazily at him…wait, you’re really doing this? He stares down at you and he smiles softly and it creates a warmth in your chest that you’re trying so hard to ignore. You can’t.

Even so, you hesitantly begin to reach up to grab on to his hand, once your skin touches his you feel it. The burning. You should be used to it but right now, the fire is raging and the heat is almost too much. But you let him close his hand over yours as he helps you up.

You’re now standing in front of one another, in complete silence again. But this time it’s not awkward—no, it’s a different type of tension. Your hand lingers in his, neither of you brave enough to let go of the other. Jungkook looks down at you and you up at him, and you feel a million things. But the number one thing you feel is pain. You slowly pull your hand back and break eye contact with him, your head dropping low.

“Show me already.” You whisper.

“Shh, no talking.” Jungkook quietly demands. “Only speak with your body.” He puts some music on the speakers and smirks at you.

Jungkook steps closer to you and you stay grounded in your spot, you can feel the heat of his body begin to radiate and warm you. One of his hands find yours, he weaves his fingers through your own and puts one hand on your hip, he looks down at you to warn you this is how he will guide you.

“Just follow me.”

“You said no talking Mr.Jeon.” you say almost under your breath as you stare into his eyes. Jungkook rolls his head back with a smirk on his face, he looks at you and nods.

He puts his left foot forward and steps with his right foot in the same place at center, then puts his left foot back again. You try to copy his moves but even with such simple steps you step on his feet. He looks up at you disapprovingly. You only smile at him.

You two continue to try these steps until you finally manage to understand them even just a little bit. Jungkook brings your body closer to his as you two move your hips to the music while following the simple steps. His chest flush against your own, his heart beating so loudly you can feel it. Your heart isn’t any better. You start to finally get the hang of it, the music slowly taking you to another place. Jungkook moves his hips to the beat so flawlessly and honestly? You’re doing pretty fucking good if you do say so yourself.

Jungkook’s grip on your hip tightens as he grinds himself closer to you, you feel lightheaded as you two dance to the song. Your breathing getting just a little heavier and you feel lost and pathetic but you’re too immersed in the dance to care. Jungkook finds his head falling into the crook of your neck, his hot breaths fanning against your sensitive skin and you find your hand skimming up his back until you have a handful of his hair. You lightly tug on his locks and Jungkook quietly groans. You don’t know if you’re even doing the right steps anymore, your feet moving all around the place, but somehow it’s working. You’re still following his lead and you’re sure the dance looks somewhat okay. All you care about is how both of your hips move to the beat of the music and into each other. You two are so in sync its driving you nuts.

Jungkook lifts his head and watches as you close your eyes and he closes his own eyes, his head falling forward, your foreheads close to touching. You feel so dizzy, so light and airy, so fucking great like you’re floating. You can’t help but feel the heat creep up your entire body, you feel sweat start to build as you two move. You tighten your hands around Jungkook’s neck and pull him down impossibly close, until his forehead is touching yours. Your harsh breaths mingling with his. You get dragged into the memory of when he had you pinned to his dorms mattress, you recall how his lips left kisses all along your throat, his hot breath reminding you of the past. You think of how he rolled his hips into you effortlessly then as well, you think of how you scraped your nails down his back as he thrusted into you. God, you need to think of something else but Jungkook is filling your mind.

Jungkook’s breathing picks up again, as does yours. Your memories making this dance that much more sensual. You remember the way Jungkook nibbled on your ear as he let filthy words spill from his mouth when he fucked you. God, you should not be thinking this but his body feels so good. God, you should think of anything…literally anything else. You remember how he held you close much like how he is right now. You two continue dancing to the song that is soon coming to an end. You know exactly how it feels to have Jungkook inside you, moving and stilling. You know exactly what it feels like to come all around his cock. God, you need to stop. You need to slow your breathing. God, you…you…you...he continues to guide you along to the music when you feel something hard poke against you. Oh. Oh. OH. Hard. He’s hard.

Immediately, you pull back and take several clumsy steps backward. You blink at him with wide eyes when you realize that maybe he was recalling the same memories as you. Your wide eyes concerning Jungkook.

“Okay, that’s enough lessons for today.” Your harsh breaths don’t go unnoticed by Jungkook, his own breathing quite unsteady.

“Right.” Jungkook mumbles.

You two stand around for a few moments, just taking in the experience you just shared.

You still feel…how do you feel? You just shared a hot dance with your best friend? Wait—ex best friend? You don’t know. The memory of his body moving with yours, his skin touching your skin, his breaths on your neck, his hair balled up in your hands. God, it felt so good.

But so wrong.

“Umm…thanks.” You finally say.

Jungkook perks up at the gratitude, even if it’s somewhat forced. His frown turns into a small smile and you can’t help but smile back.

“I miss you y/n.” Jungkook instantly regrets it by the look on your face. Your expression turning hard. “Sorry I—”

“No, I miss you too.” You answer honestly. “But this doesn’t change anything.”

“But why not? Do you really not want me in your life for like, ever?”

Jungkook’s questions settle deep within you. The depth they hold…it’s too much. You wonder? Is this anti-Jungkook thing permanent? Or are you just trying to teach him a lesson?

Jungkook rubs his temples as he thinks, he sighs out instead of talking more.

“Not forever.” You finally say. Jungkook looks at you, a sliver of hope flashes across his face.

“But when?” he asks softly.

Yeah y/n. When? You know you both can’t go back to how things use to be but maybe starting over? God, you don’t know what to do! You know someone like Trina will be disappointed you became friends with Jungkook again so quickly, but you know someone like Jimin would be happy his two friends are back to being on okay terms. Why are you trying to please everybody? What do you want?

“Will you ever give up?” you say a little more lightly.

“No…” he says under his breath, his eyes focusing on the TV. “Not until you agree to be my friend again.”

You look at Jungkook with disbelief written all over your face, this boy has the fucking audacity once again. You’re amused though.

“Excuse me?” you say, cleaning your ear out with your point finger. “I didn’t catch that.”

Jungkook looks into your eyes, his eyes are large and doe like and it brings you back to every moment ever that he has given you this look.

“You’re stuck with me until you love me again.” He says more firmly.

“Who said,” you look at him with soft eyes, “That I ever stopped loving you?”

Jungkook smiles, he fucking smiles. His adorable bunny smile that makes your heart race.

“You still love me?”

“Only a little.” You jut your lip out, “I mostly hate you.”

Jungkook only frowns for a second before he is smiling again, “That’s fair.”

The two of you stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes, you sway back and forth wondering what you want to say to him—you miss him, of course but…

“Let’s take it slow.” You finally break the silence. You miss him more than anything and it might be worth it to have him in your life again, “You aren’t going to be a priority in my life anymore.” You crack you knuckles, the sound filling up the room.

“I know,” Jungkook feels his heart twist at your words but at least it’s something. “We can go however slow you want y/n.”

“You are on—”

“Thin fucking ice, buddy. I know.”

You exhale a shaky breath, thinking about how to go about this, “We can text every now and then, I’m not sure I want to hang out with you quite yet.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe a group hang out first…”

“I’d like that.”

Jungkook reaches over to grab your hand but you pull back, “That’s a no from me for the affection.”

Hurt flashes across Jungkook’s features but he softens up as he nods his head. “Noted.”

You wonder if you’re making the right decision. This wasn’t easy, you know? This actually felt quite hard. But somehow you feel like some weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like things maybe just maybe will be okay.

“I won’t push myself on you, I promise.” Jungkook sits back down on the floor, crossing his legs.

“Just be yourself, Jungkook.”

“If I wanted to be myself I would be hugging you right now but that’s apparently off limits.” He jokes.

“One hug.” You open your arms timidly. You feel one hug can’t be too bad?

Jungkook widens his eyes in pleasant surprise. He stands to his feet again and opens his own arms.

“C’mere.”

You watch in disbelief as he grins with his arms wide open, expecting you to go to him! And you do. You fucking do.

His arms wrap around you, he pushes you into his chest and you feel so fucking good. So warm, so cozy. His scent making you feel dizzy again, his warmth causing you to heat up. You lean back and look at his content face, he honestly looks so fucking content. Like, this hug is everything to him. And maybe it is, but you don’t know that.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” you both snap your heads toward the front door to see Jimin standing there with a package in his hands.

“I can come back later?” he smirks at you two.

“No no no no!” you drop your arms from hugging Jungkook and take a few steps back, “We were just—”

“We made up, Jimin.” Jungkook says calmly with the softest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

“We’re taking it slow!” you rush to say.

“Oh?” Jimin winks, he walks forward until he’s in the living room joining you two. “Does this mean you will be joining us this Thursday at Jungkook and Nick’s place?”

“Huh?”

Jungkook shifts on his feet, “Yeah, uh, me and Nick are having a small get together on Thursday…you can bring whoever you want…but you’re definitely invited.”

“Before I answer that…Jimin how did you not know about Nick and him being Jungkook’s roommate?”

“Listen! Jungkook is always HERE! I never go over there! The few times I was there Nick was never home okay?!” Jimin whines obnoxiously.

“Okay, whatever. And Jungkook, I said—”

“You said group hang outs.” Jungkook pouts.

Oh. You did say that. But this soon? And is she going to be there?

You chew on your lips before answering, “Okay. But I’m bringing Trina and Holly.”

“Oh bro, Trina is not your biggest fan.” Jimin cuts in.

“Yeah, I know how she is I already anticipated that.” Jungkook shrugs, he looks at you with a small smile.

Okay, starting over? Taking it slow? Can you and Jungkook do this? You look between the boys and smile,

“Okay. See you boys on Thursday.”

[jamestrmtx]

Wish Upon a Night Sky - [Beastars | Various x Reader]

[Female, Sheep Reader | Slow Burn]

Act Three | Age-old Conflict

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

"I knew I'd find you here!"

At the sound of that voice -- familiar and friendly -- you look up from your book and form a smile when you recognize the person behind it. 

"Are you busy right now?" Jack asks, sitting in the empty chair next to yours. "I'd like you to meet someone, if you're not too busy!"

You bookmark where you're at, glance up to face his eyes, and catch a glimpse of excitement behind them. Him looking so cheerful as he waits for your response makes it almost impossible not to be persuaded into agreeing right off the bat. Still, you give the offer some thought and take your school schedule into account, against letting your responsibilities pile up right from the beginning.

"Sure," you reply, setting the book aside. "I'm just doing some self-study, at the moment." You furrow your gaze and add, "Who am I meeting, by the way?" While having time was one thing, taking into consideration who you would befriend was another. You look around and frown when you see there's no one present nearby, not only from the risk of you being all alone at a school like this one, but at the curiosity over getting to meet another student -- and potential, eventual friend, hopefully.

Jack calls the person over as a response. 

The one mentioned doesn't take too long to appear, as he shows up by the door frame in less than it takes for you to organize the pile of books on the table; he even manages a sheepish wave when he catches you staring at him, yet he keeps quiet and still after that, in spite of neither of you knowing each other's names.

It's another wolf, though he's nowhere similar to Juno. The only remotely close aspect you can find between them is his height, but even then, it's not the same. If Jack had to crouch a bit to talk to you, the wolf would no doubt have to do that, too -- if not more than that. Jack introduces him as Legoshi, a name you'd often heard slip from Juno's mouth since the past week spent as her roommate. You reciprocate his wave from earlier and direct a quick smile at him, one he returns with a reserved, almost hesitant nature -- completely different from your expectations, given his species.

At the thought of him being the one Juno often rambled on about, you bite back a grin and introduce yourself in return. The image she'd painted you of the wolf is barely needed when you take notice of just how cautious and awkward he is in greeting you. It's like he's not so sure as to how to approach you, and each movement he makes is just as wary as the next. 

When you shake hands with him, you see his gaze wander over to the book and a pile of them left on the table.

His face lights up in recognition, and it doesn't take long before he asks, "Are you the homeschool student from last week?"

You chuckle, let go of his hand, and walk off back to the table to pick up the book, smile growing when you read the title again. "Is it that obvious?" You hold it up in your hands and bite back another laugh. "I'm, well... I'm trying to be less… ignorant -- now that I'm going to be studying at a place like this! Homeschool didn't really teach me stuff beyond math, science, and languages, so I need to make up for that as much as I can." 'Of Wolves and Sheep: A Fundamental Guide to Carnivores, Herbivores, and those in between', reads the book's cover; the sheer irony of your meeting deems you incapable of wiping away your smile. "But, this is probably basic knowledge to everyone here though, huh?"

His eyes glance over the book once more, while his gaze softens as he shakes his head, returning your playful nature. "Not really," he replies, sitting down across from you and Jack when you offer him to. "I'm still learning, too," he adds. "Maybe it looks like everyone here knows about that topic, but... If you know about what happened to one of the students, you'd think differently." A somber expression reaches his face as he huffs and passes a hand against the back of his neck; a more mournful look then glints in his visage -- almost a second after, yet it's shaken off when he continues with, "In the end, it feels more like everyone's just trying their best to understand each other despite everything going on."

You toy with the book in your possession and stay quiet as your mind debates whether or not it would be okay to ask more about the incident. So far, you'd only heard rumours about it, these hard to hold on to with how frail and inconsistent their sources and information were. When you see sadness return to the wolf's gaze, you fight against it. Whatever went on at the drama club with one of its students was clearly still affecting him to this day, so you try not to make him feel worse by adding any unneeded comments to the mix. Whether he knew the person didn't matter; asking anything else would kill the mood entirely.

"I thought you'd wait for me, Legoshi. How rude of you!"

Hearing another voice blend into the calm of the library, you glance back towards the door to see a peafowl standing by it, a smile on his face despite the accusation in his words. He has his arms firmly crossed, faking anger through an equally firm glare. "Were you that desperate to meet the new girl? You disappeared the second we left the drama club!" While part of your questions are fulfilled with the person's entrance, you still don't dare ask Legoshi about the incident. Rather, you keep quiet and greet the peafowl with a wave and a smile -- just like you'd done with the wolf next to you. "You all look so cute together! Should I take a picture?"

You tense up and observe those around you. Embarrassment falls on you when you notice just how popular you seem to be currently, being surrounded by two canines and an avian. Your first few days as a new student appear gone now, and -- to any outsider -- it would come off as if you're the center of attention, with all gazes on you. "It… It's fine!" you reply, words almost stuttered. On instinct, you hide behind your book and try to control the shake of your hands. As kind as the offer is, you're far too jittery to even consider the idea of having your picture taken -- and even less with other people.

Still, you're against being rude, so you add a 'thank you, though' after your words.

"A shy one, aren't you?" he comments, covering a giggle with his hand. "You must be (Y/N), right? Juno wouldn't stop talking about the new girl, and when I heard Legoshi was meeting you today, I just had to join!" He stands by the only empty chair left at your table and extends a hand out to you before sitting down. "My name's Dom. It's nice to meet you!"

Safe to say, his energy is infectious.

You take his hand, palm feeling just as warm as his voice and smile. "Nice to meet you, too." 

Then, you let go and move your gaze back to your book. The pile at the center of the table is the next thing to be the source of attention when Dom comments over it, mischief replacing his previous, friendly tone. He reaches out for the pile, drags it over to his side, and picks the odd one out -- one you'd tried to hide by slipping it in the very middle of the rest. "It seems our new girl already has her eyes on someone here, huh? And here I thought Juno was only teasing you about it!"

To be blunt, he's holding a romance book -- its cover risqué. The image features a forbidden love between a carnivore and a herbivore, and while the publishing year dates back to almost a century ago, it retains plenty of relevance today. At a time when tension between the two sides was still fresh and bleeding, books like these existed, though you didn't exactly want to be found out with it currently. "Is it this guy, perhaps?" Dom asks, pointing at Jack, who straightens his posture as fast as the accusation comes. A hint of red shows on his face, but he tries to hide it by looking elsewhere. "You sure act quick, (Y/N)! I'm impressed."

Not wanting for further assumptions to be made, you suspend yourself over the table, focus on your target, and try to reach out for the book. Too easy to be true, you almost fall over when Dom pulls back, hiding it behind him. "It- It's not like that, really!" you exclaim, words coming out about as flustered as your face likely is now. "I'm just curious about the book -- It reminds me of a fairytale I read when I was little!"

At that, Dom stops evading your attempts at grabbing the book back from him. Interest crosses his gaze and a moment of silence takes over the room, one you're not feeling too confident about. "Oh, really?" he asks, cooing. "Hopeless romantic? Or curious about what your parents never told you?"

You sit back down on your seat and look at your lap, face burning. "A... A bit of both, actually."

The peafowl laughs, a sound honest and bright. When you stare back at him, he's holding out the book, waiting for you to take it. "Lend it to me when you're finished, alright?" he says, winking. "I'm a bit curious myself."

You allow yourself a few minutes for your face to cool down some more and huff out a long, deep breath when you're done. Truth be told, it nearly seems as if you've spent all the energy left in you by agreeing to meet new people, yet you don't exactly dislike the experience. Rather, you smile again when you recover and find your cheeks and chest hurt from how happy you are right now.

Nodding, you take the book and place it under your current read.

Your shoulders tense when you feel everyone's eyes on you, though you push through with an "alright".

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

[etherealxgenie]

Why Adrien is Better off Gay/Bi/Pan || Miraculous, Why?

(Before I begin, note that this is my opinion over the topic and am no way am bashing anyone’s love for the ship and/or character. I respect who and what you like, therefore expect the same courtesy. However, if this is something you cannot handle, please click the back button as this will be a heavily discussed topic. No flames allowed. Other than that, enjoy.)

I’m afraid I have to address the elephant in the room. Of how the hetero pairings for Adrien are about as real as Twilight. Sometimes it makes me wonder if Thomas Astruc looked at the ships in the end of Naruto and though… makes sense? That’s a long shot convo for another day.

I’m going to take the time in this chat to discuss why each female who has an interest in Adrien has no chance of having a healthy relationship with him and to why male characters have better chances! Let’s look at the girls one by once.

Lila: Let’s start with the obvious. Lila is clearly not interested in Adrien for his personality, but merely for the good looks and fame. She really hasn’t demonstrated any behavior that she cares for him genuinely and hangs off of him constantly as a possession. It’s clear Lila sets her eyes on Adrien because he’s famous, popular and wants him as a trophy husband. Lila is pretty toxic on her own to go so far as to sneak in and stalk Adrien. What’s worse is that she now has Gabriel’s permission to do so. If he were to be paired with Lila, it’ll break him and be nothing but hell.

Chloe: While it shows itself that Adrien has only platonic feelings for Chloe, she still hopes for something more. Adrien cares deeply for Chloe because he was her first friend, though it’s obvious Chloe wants more. Though Chloe has a mean streak and a possessive behavior where she tends to be cruel to people aside from Adrien and expects to get away with it every time. With the behavior she gets from being spoiled and trying to live up to her mother, would it be farfetched to say a future marriage between these two would be like Audrey/Andre? I don’t think so. Plus, she forgets his birthday. What kind of friend does that?

Kagami: Not going to lie, out of all the pairs, Kagami does have the most potential to be paired with Adrien. She meets him through fencing, they get time to know each other and they slowly start to grow as friend. However, that just about ends when it comes to such as Kagami is another girl who takes it a step too far. Like Chloe, Kagami follows too much in her mother’s footsteps and also is overly aggressive and competitive. She looks to quickly claim Adrien because they’re ‘perfect’, which is a word Adrien hates a lot under his façade. She’s gets possessive around other girls near Adrien and moves too quickly, also forcing Adrien to make his decisions as if he doesn’t have the time to decide.

And last…

Marinette: Marinette… in a way is a small combination of the girls combine. No doubt she’s sweet, shy and tries help at times when matters. BUT she’s also obsessive, possessive, and hypocritical. Things a potential yandere usually becomes. She invades Adrien’s privacy, stalks him, and steals from him more so than Lila. She doesn’t mind crossing boundaries as far as doing illegal acts such as breaking into his locker, copying his schedule? How even. She also tried to confess to Adrien on the day his mother disappeared/died which is a time for MOURNING and COMFORT! She also has no problems calling other people out on this behavior, yet she does the same things. Hypocrisy is never a good color to wear.

Not to mention she only is ‘in love’ with one side of him. As Ladybug, which is important, she tends to put him down as Chat Noir, doesn’t give him proper respect in public and doesn’t include him with important matters, especially with Master Fu. She treats him as his sidekick rather than his partner and leaves him in the dark. She thinks of herself as Batman and him Robin. If you read the comics or watch some of DC shows, you know how well THAT goes. Marinette cannot love Adrien without loving and respecting him as Adrien AND Chat.

Granted, she’s not the only girl who treats Chat badly, but she is supposed to be his ‘partner’ so… yeah.

For these girls it wouldn’t make sense. Not to mention at least once, the girls tend to make Adrien uncomfortable holding him on his arm and such. They don’t act like they care of Adrien’s well being at all (except for Kagami sometimes), but make him to be some prized to be won. Forced shipping is toxic shipping.

I can gladly blame the poor writing on the show, but pretty much it did it’s damage enough for me to say I cannot or will not romantically ship these girls with Adrien. If there were potential girls, girls like Rose, Juleka heck even Alix, but it’s safe to say that’s out of the question.

You know who DOES have the more potential, though? The boys.

Yes. As we take a chance to look at the friends he bonds with, its easy to say Adrien is more comfortable around the guys. The party before it was crashed, the video game tournament, these are just a few that aren’t shown often but do show more of Adrien’s comfort level. What guys you ask?

A perfect example for a ‘friends to lover’ romance would be Nino for example. He starts off subtly and gets to know Adrien from the start, not showing any animosity after the misunderstanding with Adrien and his childhood friend, Marinette. Nino also goes through lengths to help Adrien as far as to stand up to Gabriel to give Adrien a friggin’ birthday party! And got akumatized for it. Adrien also shows to go through the same lengths to help Nino hook up with Marinette so far as to set him up alone in the zoo. Nino is sweet, caring and he works well with Chat.

Another potential love interest (my personal OTP), Luka. From the get-go of how they met from a trip accident, Luka greets Adrien with kindness and welcomes him to the group in Captain Hardrock. In ‘Desperada’, that same friendliness still holds as Luka trust Adrien with his guitar, his most prize possession. Luka also does his best to keep Adrien safe and hidden away as Adrien returns the favor to save Luka from getting hit. Don’t push me about the locker scene because there are MULTITUDINOUS ways of how I can make so many ‘In the closet’ references. Also, that wink Chat gave, and the look Luka had? Need I say more? Good. And let’s not forget the icing on the cake and keep in mind to remember:

Adrien chose Luka to wield the Snake miraculous. ADRIEN, not ladybug, chose LUKA. Not to mention the fact, as Viperion, he was eager to work with Chat the moment they met and has nothing but good working with him as a teammate. That’s a bonus.

Many fans of the show try to depict them as rivals for Marinette, but only Luka shows that interest in which Marinette doesn’t really accept because of her obsession with Adrien. To make Adrien ‘jealous’ is really out of character, but another topic I’ll cover.

Truthfully, it would be an interesting twist of all the girls pushed up against Adrien, he would turn around and go for the cute guitarist or starts talking about how cute the guy is! Tell me that Degrassi twist wouldn’t add some good drama.

Overall, the show demonstrates so far that most of the girls for Adrien doesn’t really possess healthy qualities for Adrien to have a good future. The boys give him a more comfortable understanding a gentle nature for a kid like Adrien. You could pair him up with Ivan or Max and Adrien would STILL have more chemistry than them. Note that he’s sheltered, and we have no clue off what other mannerism he was raised on or how truly strict Gabriel and Nathalie are. Hell, we don’t even know how it was like when Emilie was even around.

But for any relationship to work, friendship before romance. Slow but steady at the pace both parties can go. People including Adrien, need that.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Can you please do a sequel to the Thomas piece you posted?? I would love to see more of their “rekindled” (idk if that’s the right word) relationship evolve. Thanks so much!!

So, uh...I know what the doctor ordered and all, but I kinda made it real angsty cause I have no idea how to write anything other than angst so...yeah...🤡

Sorry if this was all over the place🤦🏻‍♀️

~~~~~~~~~~

Looking back on the past several months, you wondered if there was anything you could've done differently.

Maybe, if you just kept to yourself, none of this would be happening.

You and Thomas tried your best to get everyone out of the Maze, you really did. You knew there would be casualties, but you never thought it would be Chuck...or Newt.

After your memories returned, you and Thomas did everything in your power to try and convince the Gladers that you weren't the bad guys. Of course, Gally didn't take too kindly to that news; and when Teresa came up in the Box, all hell broke loose.

You had no idea how you managed to get out of that situation, but thankfully you had more than just Thomas and Teresa on your side. You escaped the Maze. You escaped W.C.K.D. You saved Minho and countless other kids that were taken. Now...you were safe, as crazy as it sounds.

A part of you wished you never got your memories back. You wished you could've just stayed in the Glade with Chuck, Newt, Alby, Ben, or even Teresa. It was hard to not blame yourself, because you were to blame. Maybe none of this would've happened if you just stayed away from Thomas.

Sure, you harbored a bit of resentment. Not just at him though, the whole situation was fucked up, and you knew that, it wasn't fair to blame it all on one person.

Seeing so many of your friends die, in part, because of you, put a strain on your relationship with Thomas. It sucked, because you all were on the run for so long that you didn't even get a chance to spend quality time with him. All you had was your memories to keep you company, which is more than anyone else could say. Which, you guessed, made you lucky.

All these memories coming back to you in an instant, remembering how Thomas was then compared to who he is now, it took some getting used to. Before the Maze, you had a very specific idea of who Thomas was, who he was to you. He was your best friend. He was your partner. He was your soulmate. So why did you start to see things so differently?

It was subtle, at first, just little things you disagreed on from time to time. Like, how you both handled conflict. Then, when Gally became a problem, you had very different ideas on how to handle him. Ultimately, that problem came to a head quickly and you had no choice but to go along with Thomas' plan.

But after escaping the Maze, you two practically disagreed with everything. Granted, looking back, you wished you had agreed on certain things. You were ashamed of yourself for how you treated the Winston situation. When he got infected, you already came to the conclusion that he was just dead weight. Obviously, Thomas had an issue with that. You were never that close to the kid, neither was Thomas, but he was still dead set on dragging him across the desert. It was only when Winston tried to kill himself is when Thomas finally broke.

You apologized to Thomas that night, but he surprised you when he said he understood where you were coming from. He knew Winston would've make it, but he was too stubborn and scared to admit it to himself. That moment was the first time you kissed him since you had gotten your memories back, and Thomas kissed you back.

You always made a strong effort to see things Thomas' way, even if he didn't notice it. But your opinions were so strong sometimes, that you'd completely ignore the pit in your gut that told you that he'd never agree, even if you made a compelling argument. It was frustrating. You knew that some of your ideas were a bit lackluster, you came from a more inconspicuous, strategic approach when it came to plans, whereas Thomas was more guns blazing. But when it came to Minho's rescue mission, both of your views came in handy.

Even now, you wondered if you had went along with Thomas' plan of attack, would Teresa still be alive? Would Newt? Obviously, you had no way of knowing. But just the thought that maybe you might've been at fault made you shut down sometimes.

You had yet another argument with Thomas, and you just couldn't handle being around him anymore. It wasn't the smartest of plans, but you snuck out of camp and wandered into the forest away from the beach. Even in the heat of your rage, you were almost positive you could find your way back again, so you didn't worry. All you tried to focus on was steadying your heartbeat, but all you could do was take an unpleasant trip down memory lane.

It probably should've worried you that it was getting dark really quick. If you were still at camp, you could probably still see the sun going down. But the forest pretty much blocked out all light, even the moon just barely peaking through the trees. But you stayed, suspended a couple feet in the air, sitting on a sturdy tree branch.

Your wrist started to itch, the annoying stinging sensation forcing you out of your state of tranquility and back into the real world. You had to physically stop yourself from huffing, rolling your eyes when you realized that he was close by.

Ever since that day in the Maze, you could always sense Thomas' presence, the ink in your skin giving off a slight burning feeling whenever he was close by. It would start off dull, barely noticeable. The feeling would intensify the closer Thomas would be in proximity until it completely stopped.

"Y/n?"

"Go away." You quickly replied harshly, not even turning around to look at him.

"You need to come back to camp, it isn't safe out here."

"Oh, like it's any safer across the ocean." You sighed.

This was the hundredth disagreement, Thomas wanted to go back to the mainland. His hero complex finding it difficult to just stay in the Safe Haven while there may be other people in need of help. Teresa seemed to finally break him from beyond the grave. He wants to find a way to replicate the cure that she gave to him before she sacrificed herself.

You thought it was stupid. You kept thinking about everyone that has been hurt, everyone that was murdered, all their friends that were experimented on by W.C.K.D. in their hopes of finding a cure. Thomas held the cure in his hand, but it's always never enough. It's like he has to put himself in danger to find a purpose in life. You were almost sure that they was no purpose, just survive.

In the Glade, you had more hope, surprisingly. Without your memories, you woke up with a tiny bit of hope, hope that the world outside the Maze would be better. But then it wasn't. You remembered how shitty the world really was, it even made you miss the Glade. It was a cage, that's for certain, but it almost seemed like you were safer there.

Sure, you were safe now. But your experiences in the Maze combined with all your memories that you had to deal with, you changed, you and Thomas both. Sometimes, it didn't really feel like you were the same people before you lost your memories. Maybe that's why you two were at odds constantly, maybe you two weren't actually soulmates. Who knows what put those tattoos on your skin, it could've been W.C.K.D. for all you knew. It was a very disheartening thought.

"Come on, Y/n. This again, seriously?" Thomas scoffed. "I thought you of all people would understand why I need to do this. If we can replicate the cure, who knows what that could mean for us? For the whole world?"

You sighed, jumping down from the tree branch and standing to face him. "Thomas, I never said we shouldn't try to make more cures. I just think it's idiotic to try and go back to that hellscape."

"It's not that I want to, we don't have the proper tools here that can make it easier to remake the serum."

"Last time we were there, all those buildings were being blown up. Most likely, it's all rubble and ash by now. There wouldn't be anything left to salvage."

"But not impossible."

"Thomas..."

"It's not impossible. Those specific buildings might be gone now, but you know how many more W.C.K.D. facility's there are. We have those coordinates."

"Those buildings are probably overrun by Cranks."

"But there still might be equipment left, and that's enough for me. We owe it to Teresa to try."

You rolled your eyes. "We don't owe her anything, Thomas. She betrayed us all, remember?"

"She saved my life. Our life. Surely, you remember that." You didn't reply. "She was like a sister to you, Y/n. Those feelings aren't just something that goes away overnight."

"It's easier when you remember she always had an agenda to begin with." You snapped, but quickly felt guilty when you saw the tears in Thomas' eyes. Your gaze softened. "Replicating the cure isn't gonna bring her back...we have to move on."

"I know...I know it won't bring her back..." Thomas whispered, slowly sitting down on this forest floor.

You sighed, kneeling down beside him. "I admire that you...want to save the world. But you shouldn't go on a suicide mission because of one person who's not even alive anymore." You said as softly as possible, the chirps of insects around you almost drowning you out.

"You think this is just about Teresa?" Thomas quickly asked, furrowing his brows.

You shrugged. "I know how hard you took her death. And yeah, it's been hard for me too. I was just so angry at her that I didn't allow myself to mourn. But I honestly think that Teresa wouldn't want you to kill yourself over this cure just for her."

Thomas let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "It was never just about her. I...I couldn't save Newt. He wasn't immune, and I am. And I could've saved him if I had just listened to Teresa. So many people on this island aren't immune. Including you...if there's even the slightest chance I could make more cures in order for you to be safe...it's more than enough for me. I can't lose you too."

"Thomas..."

"I can't lose you."

You shook your head, quickly grabbing onto Thomas' hands. "Hey," You said softly, "you're not going to lose me."

"How do you know?"

"Thomas, no one here has the virus. And we're so far away from the mainland...don't you think it would be affecting people already if it could reach us here?"

Thomas stayed silent, casting his gaze to the forest floor dejectedly.

You sat closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, but still keeping your hands on his. "Thomas, I think the worst is over now. We don't have W.C.K.D. hanging over our heads, and we're not running for our lives anymore...we shouldn't have to worry about this kind of stuff anymore."

"Sometimes it's hard to believe that we don't have to run for our lives anymore..." Thomas whispered softly.

You frowned, leaning more into Thomas. "I know...I've been feeling the same way."

Thomas brought up your wrist, kissing his tattooed name gently. "I'm sorry. I hate arguing with you."

You smiled weakly. "It's okay. I'm sorry too."

"I remember you telling me that my stubbornness will get me killed someday." He chuckled, then sighed. "You weren't wrong. I know I'm stubborn."

"Hey, it's not just you. I know I'm stubborn too."

"We make such a good pair, don't we?" He joked.

The thought about the origins of your tattoos came back into your mind, causing you to frown slightly. "Do you ever think about our tattoos?" You asked hesitantly. "Like, about how they got there in the first place?"

Thomas inhaled deeply. "Yeah. I have."

"Do you think W.C.K.D. is the one who put these here?" You asked, rubbing your thumb over Thomas' tattoo.

"I don't know...maybe. But even if they did, it doesn't matter to me. I love you, and that'll never change."

You looked up at Thomas, seeing that he was already looking at you with a small smile. You felt your face heat up when he moved a strand of your hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. "Thomas...?"

"Hmm?"

You leaned in and placing your lips against his gently. "I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~

yes, i'm aware this was a bit of a mess lmao. hope you enjoyed regardless

[quietmyfearswith]

new year’s day ; andy barber x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 3,960 words

warnings — swearing, mentions of active sex life, SMUT, degradation, sir kink, choking, oral smut (receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (pls use protection), slapping, name calling, drinking champagne off of one’s body, fluff at the end?? porn without plot lol

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — HAPPY NEW YEAR! im still high on my andy feels so yeah,, lmk what yoou think!

masterlist

“Fuckin’ hell my eyes hurt,” Y/N groaned out as she rubbed her palms on her eyelids, as if she was massaging the stress away. Rose could only chuckle at her friend’s distress, “Well I did warn you about how you shouldn't have gone to work today; you deserve to take a break once in a while you know?”

Cracking her knuckles once she was done rubbing her eyes, Y/N retorted, “Well it’s not like I had any New Year’s Eve plans so I decided why not go to work?” As she continued to torment her eyes with the light emitted from her desktop. Being her only real friend at the workplace, Rose took it as a responsibility to look after her; for she knew how she wasn’t really close with her family and her other closest friends were on the different side of the country. “Hey, I invited you to that party me and Agnes are going to!”

Tearing her straining eyes away from the screen, Y/N gave the brunette a pointed look, “You mean to say you invited me to party where I don’t know anyone but you and your girlfriend; which definitely guarantees that you’ll both leave me alone so you can fuck.”

Rose didn’t find it in herself to deny her allegation or defend her and her girlfriend’s active sex life; instead she could only give her a sheepish look as she joked, “Guess you’ve been spending too much time with Mr. Barber since you’re incredible at drawing conclusions and noticing patterns huh?” Seeing how much time she had spent with the mentioned lawyer over the past year, Y/N couldn’t help but nod and agree with her.

The soft chime of Rose's Favorite song rang and a cocky, “See! Can’t even wait an hour before you two get to be together,” was quickly being hushed by her friend. “Okay you have a point, we have a high sex drive — but can you blame us? And I need to leave early, stupid bitch burnt herself as she was baking.”

Chuckling without tearing her eyes away from the documents in front of her, Y/N greeted, “Yeah, yeah; don’t need to rub it in. Happy New Year’s Eve, babe.” Before heading to Mr. Barber’s office to sweetly ask to leave early, Rose went to where Y/N was seated and let their cheeks touch as their way of bidding adieu.

Andy was more than generous to allow Rose to leave the office early, “Go ahead and enjoy, you deserve it for being one of the few ones who chose to come in today,” He told her smiling form. Once she left his office, he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his button down shirt and let out a loud groan. Usually, this time last year he would be rushing to go home — if ever his work demanded his presence — in order to celebrate the New Year’s with his family. But now as he mourns the family he once had and lost it as his son was brutally killed by his ex-wife that had gone insane in disbelieving her son’s innocence was now serving prison for her crimes, he had nowhere to be.

After a couple of hours filled with silence and burying his head with paperwork, Andy noticed how there was a soft, melodious hymn coming from the other side of the office. The lawyer wasn’t necessarily alarmed, but he was curious about who was left working since there had only been 7 other people who decided to come in to work today; and to his knowledge they should have left by now.

He decided to check out who was left — but it really was an excuse to stretch his long, lean legs as he felt them cramping up a bit from being seated for too long — and was surprised to see the most diligent employee he’s ever met in his years of practicing law, “Ms. Y/N, what are you still doing here?”

Hearing his deep voice snapped her out of her concentration; seeing her boss in his less than organized state had her taken aback, “Oh Mr. Barber, I’m just doing some work on the Richards case.” Looking at the watch on his left wrist, he took note how it was a mere 15 minutes before the new year dawned on them. “No plans for the new year then?”

Deciding to test the waters she cracked a joke, “Are you talking about the holiday or the actual year? Because I have no plans for both.”Covering up her remark with a nervous chuckle, she was glad to see the older man wrinkle his eyes as he laughed out loud, “Well that makes the two of us; why don’t we grab a drink in my office?”

Eyes going wide and gasping silently, Y/N was pleasantly surprised at his offer but nevertheless nodded in agreement. Quickly shutting off her desktop, she moved out of her chair and decided to leave her footwear and floral kimono by her desk as she somewhat felt restricted by the light cloth. As she entered his post, she settled herself on the gray sofa he had placed near the office’s wall. Grabbing a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses, Andy sat beside her then poured them a drink.

“Never pegged you as a champagne guy, Mr. Barber,” She thanked him as he handed her a glass which she took a sip of; letting out a small moan of appreciation at the taste, the  sound causing Andy to cross his right leg on top of the left in an effort to conceal his erection. “Please, call me Andy,” He cleared his throat as he took a sip of the liquor, “And whiskey and bourbon are my usual choices of poison; but since it’s the New Year, figured this was more appropriate.”

Y/N surprised the man beside her by drinking all of the champagne in one go and placed the now empty glass on the coffee table in front of them before turning to his gobsmacked expression and giggled, “Sorry, really need that one.” With his hooded eyes watching her intently, he drank some of his before answering, “Don’t be Y/N, it was quite a show.”

She could feel her wetness dampen the panties she wore with how good her name sounded as it left his lips, “Don’t think I ever heard you call me by my first name before.” Worried he crossed the line he was quick to fumble out an apology; but quickly stopped as he felt her hand on his thigh, “It’s okay, I’m not mad or anything. I really like it, actually,” She trailed off once she noticed how he seemed to have let out a quiet, but aroused purr. Tilting her head to the side with an amused expression plastered on her face, “You alright, Andy?”

Years of practicing law and appearing in courtrooms taught him not to lose composure; but with a simple touch and mention of his name had Andy forgetting how to remain calm and collected. But can you fucking blame him when the girl who walks around with so much grace and confidence — who also happens to be the subject of his filthy fantasies — is so close to him that he can almost feel her warmth piercing through his long-sleeved shirt. In that moment, he wasn’t sure if it was a wise or dumb decision to discard his suit jacket, but as their arms touched and he felt a surge of electricity run through his veins, he thought of himself as a fucking genius.

“I am, yeah,” Deciding to test the waters, he grabbed her hand that rested on her thigh and intertwined their fingers together; when she made no attempts at removing her hand from his he smirked, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but something tells me you want more than just this champagne I offered.”

Feeling her inhibitions disappear, she gave him a smirk of her own as she untangled her hands from his, “Well, I do want some more champagne,” Her finger was now tracing his lips as she moved to sit closer until she was now straddling his lap, “Maybe taste it from your lips?”

Silently, Andy brought the glass to his lips and downed the remaining sparkling drink; his free hand settled itself on the back of her neck, pulling her close to him until her lips touched his. As he bit her bottom lip, she opened her mouth and moaned out loud as she felt the alcoholic beverage enter her mouth. Both her hands caressed his bearded cheek as she drank up every last drop that he offered her. Groaning out loud when his mouth was now devoid of the drink, he let his tongue enter her mouth and asserted his dominance; something she willingly conceded to him. His hand on her neck traveled lower and rested on her bum, squeezing the soft flesh which emitted more moans from her.

“Been dreaming about this for so long,” His staff silently, mindlessly let out as she kissed him desperately. “Is that so?” He asked once he broke away their kiss, Y/N whined at the loss of his lips and confused with his question. Chuckling at her groggy state he squeezed both her cheeks with one hand, forcing her to focus on him and answer his question, “You said you’ve been dreaming about this, baby. Is that what you daydream about at work? Me fucking you so hard your dumb brain can’t even think straight?”

Letting out a pathetic whine, she could only nod her head enthusiastically, “Want that so fucking bad, sir.” He felt his cock harden even more at the title she called him; but he wasn’t even done with teasing her yet. “And that fantasy will come true; but first, stand up and strip for me, baby,” With a soft smack on her cheek, she stood up quickly and unzipped her dress. Andy watched her present her body for him as he poured another glass for himself.

Resting on the arm rest was the hand with the sparkling champagne, while the other was palming his erection as watched her push her dress down to the floor. “No bra? Just that poor excuse of underwear?” He moaned out as he observed the fabric that parts at the middle, teasing the paradise that awaits for his cock.

Lowering her gaze, as if bashful, at his filthy remarks before resuming her previous position of sitting on his lap with her hands moving to unbutton his button down. “Such an impatient little thing, aren’t you?” He clicked his tongue at her; to which she pouted as she stared at him with want written on her face, “I’m sorry, sir. What do you want me to do?”

“Ride my thigh like the slut you are, baby,” He commanded her without even thinking about it, which turned her on even more. Situating herself on his thick, lean thigh she moaned out loud as the fabric of her thong added even more friction. She began to ride him with slow but sharp movements, throwing her head back when she felt her wetness taint the fabric of his slacks, “How does it feel, baby?”

“Good, so good,” Her broken cries turned him on even more as he sipped on the champagne, enjoying the tingle it left on his tongue. “Do you trust me, baby?” Surprised at his question, she opened her eyes to look at him, her hip movements not faltering one bit. Upon seeing how serious he was she answered, “I do, Andy. I trust you.”

With a smirk, he then tipped the glass just above her breasts, allowing the liquid to run from her collarbones and down to her breasts. Gasping out loud when Andy runs his tongue on her skin, following the trail that the champagne took, “Don’t stop grinding on me, love,” He reminded her as his lips drank the liquid that landed on her nipple — subsequently sucking on the pebble-like flesh. Seeking purchase on his dark hair, Y/N continued rubbing herself on his thigh — his assault on her breast encouraging her to ride him even harder and faster.

“Time to drink some more,” Andy huskily spoke out as he poured some more of the beverage on her opposite breast  causing the girl to stiffen a bit as she was taken aback by the sudden coolness on her breast. His tongue flattened against her skin, now more focused on kissing every inch of her skin instead of drinking up the liquor. His hand held her breast firmly, raising it a bit so he could suck on it and slurp the booze.

“Fuck, the champagne tastes even incredible on you, baby,” HIid praise got her flustered and she could only whine as she felt herself getting closer. “I’m so close, sir. Can I cum, please?” She fluttered her eyes at him sweetly, hoping he’d show her mercy; but his wicked smile and wink got her thinking she’d be shown the opposite of it. “Not yet, baby,” He was quick to shut her wails up with a smack on her breast, “Sit down on the sofa, baby.”

Even though she denied him her release, she followed his orders without a complaint — working with him provided her a clear picture of what happens when you don’t follow Andy’s orders, and it didn’t end well for everyone involved. As she sat down, she watched as the lawyer placed his glass on the table and reached for the bottle; poured some on her pussy. Y/N watched closely as Andy licked her clit, down to her hole. Without tearing his eyes away from hers, he inserted his tongue in her and tried to reach as far as his long tongue can go. “So good, Andy,” She grabbed onto his hair, pushing his face closer to her. The man was quick to smack her thigh, causing her to press her thighs more into his frame, “You know what to call me,” He warned.

“Sir,” She panted out, “Feel so good, sir.” Pleased with that, he rewarded her by rubbing his right thumb on her clit, making her moan even louder. Loving her blissed out sounds of pleasure, Andy began licking her ferociously; he drank up all of the champagne he poured and all the juices she had to provide. He inserted his left pointer and middle finger in her, taking her aback with the sudden simulation. Her thighs were shaking with how good he was making her feel, too weak to even grab onto his hair and her arms were now limp on her sides, “Sir, please! I’m so fucking close, please let me cum.”

Without tearing his mouth and hands from her he replied, “Then cum on my fucking tongue, you slut,” The vibrations adding more to the pleasure she felt. After a few more thrusts of his fingers, kitten licks of his tongue, she felt apart with a scream. Her thighs wrapped themselves around his shoulders, squeezing him so tight that she felt his beard tickle her delicate skin. Andy pulled out his fingers that were in her, replacing them with his tongue so he can gather all of her juices and drink some of them in. “You taste like fucking heaven, baby,” He groaned as he parted from her pussy, his fingers pushing her juices back inside her so he could use it as lube.

“Wanna kiss you, sir,” Her fingers touched the patch of facial hair above his lips, surprised with how it had her juices. Andy complied, giving her a brief, but sweet kiss. “Want you on your hands and knees, baby. Hold on to the back of the sofa okay?” Y/N couldn’t help but feel mushy with how gentle he was bossing her around — when she knew his next actions would be far from gentle.

Holding on to the back of the sofa, she used it to steady herself on her knees, bending slightly so she could arch her back to accentuate her ass. Andy quickly discarded his clothes before rubbing her pussy again and pushed some of her juices in, before entering in her pussy in one go. His forehead rested on her back as he groaned out, “Fuck baby you’re so tight. Been a while huh?” Anchoring himself on her hips, he slid in and out of her at a steady pace.

Y/N moaned out loud as she felt the back of her thighs meet Andy’s hips; he was thrusting into her with no remorse. Her hand travelled to her breast, switching between pinching the nipple or pulling on it. Grabbing her hair with one hand, the bearded man pulled her so her back was pressed firmly against his chest. You’d think that this would give Andy a difficult time to rut into her but it didn’t; instead it just made him drive his cock in her harder and faster, falling into a drum-like rhythm.

“Why are you fucking touching yourself, slut?” Feeling his breath on her ear turned her on more than she cared to admit and she couldn’t even string together a coherent response since the tip of his dick pushed into her g-spot, causing her to moan out loud. “You’re such a fucking mess that you can’t even think straight huh?”

Nodding pathetically was all the response Y/N could offer as she clawed on to Andy’s toned arms; the lawyer then decided to go all the way with his fun by wrapping his big hand around her neck, applying gentle pressure. “You don’t mind this do you, sweetheart?” Shaking her head no, Andy then smiled as he put more force on the sides of her neck as he rammed his cock in her until the tip of his cock repeatedly hit her bundle of nerves that made tears leave her eyes with how good everything felt. The other hand that wasn't wrapped around her throat then lowered itself on her clit, rubbing the hardened nub.

“If only you knew how hard you got me every time you came to work with a tight skirt or pants,” He breathed out against her ear, tickling her with his breath, “Giving me a perfect view of the shape of your ass,” And to emphasize his point he thrust so hard until his cock was all the way in and spanked her ass. “Walking around the office with so much fucking confidence,” He recalled the time wherein she called out an officemate for talking lewdly about her — that caused him to jerk one off in the office bathroom. “But now you’ve been reduced to a dumb cock hungry whore for me,” She wailed out in agreement as his hand squeezed her throat so tight to the point she was now gasping for breath as his other hand wrapped around her tit, loving the weight and feel of it on his hand, grabbing onto it to move it up and down his hand.

“Are you gonna cum again, baby? Gonna cum around my thick cock?” He could feel her walls clinging on to his cock even more, making it difficult to thrust in her but he was determined to keep on sliding his cock in and out. “Yes, so close, please let me cum,” She trailed off as he abandoned his hold on her tit and throat and returned to her hips so he could maneuver her and ram his cock swiftly and harder. “Cum then you, slut. Let me feel you milk my cock,” Was all the permission she needed before she dug her nails into his forearms as came with a scream, “Thank you, sir!”

Even as she was cumming, Andy thrust in and out of her; though his thrusts weren’t as powerful and quick. Once he felt her spasms die down, he slid all the way inside her and came with a groan. They both could feel his cock twitch as it released his load inside her, filling her up with his hot semen. Littering kisses on her back, Andy could feel his regular breathing return — as was hers.

Carefully, Andy pulled out of her, “Can you stand up for a bit, baby?” She nodded and stood up from her position, the lawyer guiding her to sit by the arm rests. Still stuck in her post-orgasm haze, she watched as he moved the coffee table away and transformed his sofa into a bed. Grabbing the spare bed sheet, blanket, and pillows he kept in the office — in case he had to spend the night in the office — he quickly made the bed before he helped Y/N to lay down with him, wrapping the blanket over their naked bodies.

“How you feeling?” It was amazing how he had a quick change of demeanor; Y/N was lazily tracing over Andy’s face with her finger, making the most out of this intimate moment. “Feel good, really good. Always wanted someone to fuck me the way you did.”

Her curt response had him chuckling, loving the way she was being open with him and the way she traced over his features. “Well I’m glad I fulfilled this fantasy of yours.”

Suddenly, Y/N felt small and insecure; was this a one time thing? Just something to release his frustrations and a fantasy of hers that's been fulfilled? Furrowing her eyebrows, she failed to mask her worry as she wondered, “So this is just a one time thing then?”

Hating what she just said, Andy kissed the wrinkle in between her eyebrows as he spoke, “I don’t want it to be. I really want to be with you; if you’ll have me, of course.” A small smile rested on her lips as her eyes brightened up, “I’d want that and you. You’re so amazing, Andy. I admire your strength, resilience, and determination. For someone who could easily give up in life you choose to carry on and look forward to what the future holds. It’s just a bonus that you have a thick cock and know how to use it.”

Her small speech had him chuckling and kissing her nose, pulling her close against him, “What I said earlier was true; I love how you walk around the office like you own the place. You take no shit from people and do your job damn well. Plus, I love your music taste as well.”

Grinning at him she jeered, “Wow can’t believe you still sweet talk your way even if it’s not in a courtroom setting.” Andy laughed at her retort and just grazed his fingertips on her sides, tickling her so he can hear her giggle. Once both their laughter died down, their lips met for a sweet, passionate kiss. “We have quite a mess to clean up tomorrow, Andy,” Y/N reminded him as she referred to the champagne bottle, glasses, their clothes, and his sofa bed — their whole situation, really.

“I don’t care,” He whispered as smiled at her, feeling so much lighter and better having been haunted by his personal demons for so long, “I don’t mind doing anything as long as it’s with you.”

Her heart fluttered with his simple statement; she was then reminded of the new year countdown. Reaching out for his wrist, she checked the time and noticed how a few minutes had passed 12. “Happy new year, Andy,” She greeted him with a peck on his lips.

A short, sweet kiss was returned to her as he planted his lips on hers again — quickly getting addicted to her, “Happy new year, baby. Can’t wait to spend this year with you by my side.”

[xxsmokeyy]

ok so how about a story where (preferably bi) reader and levi both fall for petra and there's this competition between them as to who can win petras heart first but after petras death (or some other issue; your choice) they both mourn and bond with each other and realize that all those times they tried to outshine each other, they fell for each other instead

Levi x Petra x Bi! Reader (F) One Or The Other

genre: mild angst, fluff (healing)

summary: it’s a bit surprising that despite being rivals, both you and Levi have gotten through a lot together. before you know it, you’re already seeking refuge from one another.

tw: mentions of death

wc: 6,575

You know it’s a heck of a risk trying to aim for someone’s hand like Petra’s. She’s the entire definition of a dainty, lovely girl everybody admires, of course including you. Besides, you don’t even know if you stand a chance, not when there’s a tough guy your way.

Namely, Captain Levi.

Well, there’s another one named Oluo, but you don’t even think of him as a competition. Definitely not a threat as well.

“Hey,” you call the girl with strawberry blonde hair. She looks back at you with a smile and stands upright, wiping the sweat trickling down her neck. You watch as she tucks her hair behind both her ears to get rid of the stray fringes. Isn’t she just hot?

“Need help?” you ask, ready to give her a hand upon seeing her singlehandedly clean the stables.

“I don’t think Captain would allow that,” Petra says before petting the said man’s horse. “Am I right, big boy?” she talks to it, combing its black mane with her slender fingers. Adorable.

“One dick of a Captain we have, don’t you think?” you say, rolling your eyes heavenwards as the image of your superior passes by your mind. “Hmm, not really. I believe his austerity is right just the way it is,” she says in full decision. Of course. The one thing you don’t like about her is the way she worships the shitty Captain like some kind of noble man.

You let out a disappointed sigh, crossing your arms. “You have got to stop being a clean freak apologist, Petra. Unless you’re inlove with him or something,” you point out and take a step towards her, taking away the broomstick from her other hand.

She’s visibly spent to the bones, tending to the horses all by herself to meet the Captain’s regulations. He only always assigns one person per duty, saying soldiers should learn how to clean alone just as much as learning how to fight, which is an utterly dumb stance in your opinion.

When she blushes by your words, a small pang hits your heart. It’s just as you guessed.

Not that it’s not so achingly obvious enough these past few years, but it’s only gotten worse ever since the new 104th recruits joined the Scout Regiment. She keeps praising the dickhead in front of them whenever they ask about him, telling them a variety of stories stretching from way back, it’s ridiculous.

“I don’t!” She really doesn’t. She just idolizes him so much that it comes across as romance. People keep rubbing to her face that she’s inlove, though it’s definitely not what she feels.

Her denial nature and easily flustered reactions keep your spirits low, almost surmising with a conclusion that you had no chance at all if not for the fact that she never made romantic advances to him her whole stay in the army.

“You do,” you avert your gaze, not wanting her to notice the brewing jealousy in your eyes, else she might avoid you or act awkward if she finds out.

“I don’t!” she presses, accidentally pulling on the horse’s crest, forcing a neigh out of it. Petra apologizes to it like it can understand her. “If that isn’t definitely guilty, I don’t know what is,” you mumble under your breath, releasing another sigh as you start sweeping the scattered hay.

Once the Captain’s horse calms down, she faces you, hands on her waist, ready to explain her feelings in fine details. “Look—“

“Who said you can slack off?” Speak of the devil. Your conversation is given a good interruption when the dark haired man arrives.

Petra immediately fixes herself, fist slamming to her chest as acknowledgment of the Captain’s presence. “We weren’t, Captain! She just wanted to help me out,” Petra clarifies right away, voice firm and booming.

You feel the infamous pair of fierce eyes dart on you, and you briefly thank anything that first comes in mind for your current position, back facing the Captain so he can’t see your disgusted scowl.

You prep yourself and turn around, giving him a half-assed salute. “I just finished with the laundry. Thought I could give her a hand,” you say, tone almost holding no formality at all, “—sir,” you lazily add.

His brows twitch as he hears you out. Brat.

“I don’t recall telling everyone to work in pairs, neither of you understood that?” he pinpoints, staring you dead in the face. You’re not intimidated, though, not one bit. If you think I’m scared, you can kiss your own ass. “I insisted. In case you didn’t notice, she’s tired,” you inform, steadiness unwavering. What is even wrong with assisting someone? This merciless prick.

“Oh?” He walks toward you in strides, easily coming face-to-face with you in a span of seconds.

“Come to my office, Petra,” he orders without looking at her, and the woman gives you one last glance, then making off after giving him a polite yes. There it is. He’s about to show his true colors, you just know it.

“Cheap way to win her over,” Levi lowly spits at you, and you can feel his hot breath ghosting harshly over your face. “If you’re so kind, do it all over again,” he orders lastly, internally entertained by how your eyes shut close in fury, grip on the broomstick tightening.

As he finally steers to leave, you swear in your life you never wanted to hit someone so damn much it’d knock them out cold.

Levi heads back, footsteps fading into the background, and an exasperated groan leaves your mouth. You frustratedly throw the broom to the floor, startling his horse, which does nothing but make your blood boil stronger in your veins. Fuck him!

—

You lie down on the hard ground, even more deadbeat than the girl you opted to help. For shit’s sake, who knew this is what you get for volunteering to be of use? You can only imagine how the new cadets would have it hard once the Captain notices their mediocre cleaning skills.

It’s probably nearing curfew, you guess from the excessive appearance of stars in the skies, but your muscles are strained stiff you can’t come inside any time now. You were left with no choice but start from scratch. If you act up and not clean up to his standards, you’ll only get it way worse, so you decided not to push him further.

You sense someone approach you, and you strongly wish it isn’t Levi. He’s the last creature you’d like to see today.

Soft and familiar amber eyes greet yours from upside down, a petite body looming over you, and you couldn’t be anymore thankful. Petra gives you a sympathetic look before sitting down beside your laid form, keeping her hands behind her back.

“I told you,” she starts, “it’d be no good if Captain sees, but you insisted and he arrived! Now look at you, you’re absolutely exhausted, aren’t you?” she continues to scold, though it doesn’t strike you as a scolding. More of a concern, yes. A smile creeps up your lips.

“Just give me the bread,” you confidently say, and she sighs in defeat before revealing the pastry she had in hand. Your heart feels giddy as you sit up straight, taking the food she went out of her way to prepare. It’s like the tiredness just disappeared into thin air. What an angel.

Petra scrunches her nose as she watches you eat in speed. You cock a brow as you see her look at you like you’re— “Do I stink?” you frantically question and smell yourself all over. No way, you’ll definitely get points off now!

She giggles bubbly and shakes her head to dismiss your assumptions. “No, but you’re biting like you haven’t eaten in ages. That famished?” she asks once she’s calmed down.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, unsure of what to think. She’s definitely an angel, especially when she smiles. You sigh for the nth time, “Obviously. Did you see how much of a bastard our Captain is? In all honesty, I’d prefer Hange as our squad leader,” you complain and resume to munching.

“I don’t know about that,” she says, gaze boring into yours. You tear your eyes off of her and stare at the horse stalls. “What did the old geezer make you do?”

“Nothing, just a bunch of paperwork,” she says truthfully. Oh, for all you know, he just wanted her all to himself. What an unfair move, using his authority to have her alone.

You angrily bite down on the bread, later realizing you’ve finished it. As she observes you, her eyes widen, suddenly remembering something. “I forgot your water!” she exclaims and rises to her feet, but you stop her before she can leave, grabbing her soft hand.

Your chest stutters involuntarily from the contact and you compose yourself right away. “It’s alright, I’ll get it myself. Go back to your room before Captain catches you,” you urgently say, not wanting her to get in trouble again. “Just help me up,” you ask to which she generously follows. You briefly wish the moment could last longer.

“You sure?” she quizzes when you finally stand up. Both of you heading inside, you nod and hum in agreement, “Thanks for the food.”

She gives you a smile as you both reach the halls, waving you goodbye before you part ways. Ahh, you feel all energetic now.

You walk to the mess hall, footsteps light and shallow. Judging from the dimly lit corridors, it must be a few minutes away from curfew. You just hope you don’t bump into some higher-ups. Hange’s fine, though.

As you push the door open, you regret it right away. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter unintelligibly. Aside from the raven haired man, the room is dead empty, a lone candle in a chamberstick providing dull light. Technically, he is the last creature you see tonight.

You have lost count of how many sighs you’ve released the whole day, all energy in your body draining once again. Steel eyes lock on you as you enter. There’s no turning back now. Well, at least Petra isn’t the one who found him here.

Levi cocks a brow as he watches you proceed inside, seemingly heading to the water jug. You stay quiet and take a glass, then filling it with water. As much as possible, you don’t want to converse with him.

He seems like he won’t let you succeed with that. “Done with the stables?” he asks, sipping on his tea.

“Yeah,” you curtly answer, not up for some bantering.

“Some goody two shoes you are,” he scoffs, ticking you off, but you refuse to let it show. You face him and lean your back against the counter. “Like you’re any better with your assholish attitude,” you sass him out, drinking on your water all the while remaining eye contact. You’ll show him.

“And you complain like the little brat that you are,” he rebuts.

“You’re just threatened that she might go for me behind your back when I just wanted to help,” you answer with a shrug, taking a few steps closer to the table he’s seated.

“Women like you like to play dirty.”

“You don’t know a thing about women,” you snide with a condescending smile, belittling the man before you. He can’t be one to talk about women when he treats you like shit. If there’s someone Petra might end up with, you sure as heck wouldn’t want it to be this guy.

He throws you a glare, piqued by your words before standing on his feet and and walking his way to you. You stay steady, unfazed by the intimidation he’s giving off.

“After all these years, do you seriously think you stand a chance?” he deadpans, which strikes straight to your feelings. He doesn’t have to emphasize that, you already know it, memorized it even.

“I don’t know, but it’d be just as much as a loss if she chooses you,” you say, slamming the glass you’re holding onto the table. After giving him one last glare, you turn your back on him, having enough of the senseless arguments.

He hates how you only ever treat him as a Captain in the battlefield, but not when you’re at ease. You always looked at him like an arch nemesis of the sort, not afraid to answer back at him like he doesn’t deserve your respect. He stressfully closes his eyes and massages his temples as you leave.

—

You sit on the bench, just in front of the Captain, who is currently beside your beloved Petra. Look at him making his moves. You roll your eyes discreetly, sipping on your fresh tea.

“What are you, on a diet or some crap?” Levi asks, finding Petra’s plate empty, bowl of soup halfway finished.

“No, I gave it to the girl you made run laps,” she informs, “she almost passed out, you know.” Right? you wanted to agree but decide to sit still and listen.

Levi doesn’t answer, and instead puts his own loaf of bread on her vacant dish. “Eat. We have an upcoming expedition,” he only says and sips on the liquid left in his cup. Petra’s cheeks turn into a feminine shade of pink, and you so wanted to pull her away from him. She exclaims a yes and starts munching. Great, I should’ve done that first.

You’re not about to put up without a fight, though.

“Dear Captain has to eat as well, don’t you think?” you sarcastically chime in, transferring your unmoved bread onto his plate. “Can’t have him thinned to bones when the walls get breached again,” you add, innocent smile downright infuriating to Levi’s eyes.

You desperately try to keep in your barging laugh to yourself as you watch him look at his plate disgustedly.

What do you say, Petra? I’m just as kind as he is, right? That show off.

Petra hums in agreement and nudges the Captain to eat, a string of hearty giggles leaving her velvet lips, alluring about a total of three people from the same table. You heart skips a round of beats as you watch her flash her toothy grins. Talk about an appetizing view.

Her giggles boil down as realization hits her. She gives you a mixed look of confusion and thoughtfulness, opening her mouth to speak and stop you on your tracks.

“But—”

You wave her off before she can shove her worries to you and prop yourself up, momentarily stretching your limbs in relaxation to then pick up your dirtied china.

“Don’t worry, Petra, I’m already full,” confidence brimming in your tone, you tell her and take your leave. But not without giving the Captain one last glimpse. It was even more appetizing to see him pissed.

Your other comrades only watch in awe as they see the unnamed rivalry uncover ahead of their eyes, your victorious smile determining the whose triumph it is for today.

How about that?

—

When you finish with dish duty, you head to the dining area once more to check if the sconce candles are extinguished, only to find them still lit and burning, with a side of holy bastard, as you like to call him. Of all people.

“Here again? What is this, your lounge room or something?” you mockingly ask and take a seat in front of him, wiping your wet hands on your pants. He ignores you.

You purse your lips out of observation. He must be a tea addict, having another one after dinner. “Are you always here every night?” you ask again, initiating a genuine conversation.

He finally looks at you and sets his tea on the table, a bit surprised by your question. “I am,” he answers. You nod, about to ask another question but he beats you to it.

“I’m removing you from the flank,” he suddenly blurts, taking you aback. What? Your rested face visibly loses composure as your brows furrow together.

“What do you mean? Is it because I shitted on you earlier? Oh please, do you think I’ll hit on Petra while on a mission?” you continuously spurt in one go, hackles slowly raising.

“It’s not about her. Erwin specifically asked for you to join his group since you apparently answered him right,” he remarks, completely calm. You are smart, that’s already a given that he knows, it’s just that feelings can get over the best of you that he doesn’t find rational.

Your ragged breathing upon taking him the wrong way steadies as you listen. “The Commander?” you confirm and he grunts his response. “Alright then, you better watch over her in my stead.”

Levi takes a glance at you, steel grey eyes holding an unreadable expression, which you find amusing and triggers a laugh out of you. It’s like his answer should have been already staring you in the face. Naturally, he’ll do that without you ordering him.

He can be cute at times, can’t he? In a funny way of course, you inwardly clear out.

Meanwhile, he thinks you’re out of your mind as you humor yourself. He’d honestly like it if you just leave him alone right now, which you eventually did, waving him goodbye.

The night before the expedition, you pay Petra’s room a short visit.

She answers the door within three quiet knocks. “Hey,” you greet with a smile and she offers to let you in forthrightly. “No! It’s fine, I just need a few seconds,” you dismiss.

“What is it?” she curiously asks, now face to face with you as you stand in her doorway.

“I won’t be with you tomorrow, so you better take care. Stick with Gunther, or Oluo. If possible, not with the Captain,” you whisper the last bit jokingly, but she ignores it and only questions why you’re separated. You explain the situation to her, leaving out the confidential details.

Petra nods, stroking her chin. You notice she’s already in her nightwear and is probably prepared to sleep, so you decide to return to your own quarters.

“Take care, alright?” you remind, eyes boring into her borderline gold ones. They were pretty and gentle, a pair you always adored through the years.

Petra wishes you the same and then a good night, strongly wanting to unite with you safely after the mission you could feel it deep inside you.

As you look at her, you‘re certain that you haven’t met a more loving person your whole life. Will there ever come a time that you’d confess to her? Probably not. If you’re being frank, you don’t think what you feel for her is that deep a love that you’d go out of your way to initiate a romantic bond. If nothing else, it might only be admiration, an attachment at most. You like her, that goes without saying, but there isn’t any room for in depth involvement, especially not in this line of work, you think.

The door to her room finally closed, you spin to get your own shuteye, only to see a familiar figure from a little distance.

The candlelights on the halls define the highest points of the man’s face beautifully, and you identify him without a hitch, dull grey orbs meeting yours.

“Let her sleep, and get your rest,” he briefly says before making off. Your eyes slightly largen from the lack of interaction, as opposed to the reprimanding you expected. Was he supposed to say his regards to her as well?

In all fairness, he didn’t go for your neck this time. Well, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Morning comes quickly, along with the falling into formation as sketched, the deployment of operation, and the arrays of discoveries you found in the progress. Everything happened quickly, and before you know it, the expedition is given an official beat to retreat.

You stand on the same branch as the Commander, waiting for his signal to flee after fighting off the wave of titans to defend the target. Three pair of your blades are blunted down to nubs from the excessive charges, and you think for a moment if you should replace them with new ones.

Catching your breath, you wipe dry your dampened skin and clothes. You watch as he idly chat with the Captain, instructing him to refill his gases. For what? I thought it’s over?

Levi listens to what he’s told, perceivably on his guard. Why is he even here? Where are the others? When you’re just about to call Levi’s attention, Erwin catches sight of you and the confusion resounding from your aura. He then permits you to break away from his flank and reunite with your own squad, and you gladly follow.

You first help clean up with the immobilizing equipment used on the spy, telling Hange to prepare for withdrawal. She passes the message onto the other soldiers, commanding them to bestride their horses to then get going.

You still don’t know where to find your teammates, so you stick with the higher-ups a little longer.

Since you’ll travel by horse from here on, you decide not to meddle with your gears anymore. You hop on the saddle and lightly yank the reigns to start moving, and with everyone else, you ride through the woods, thousands of questions ready inside your head.

A few moments later, you hear Erwin converse with Hange regarding the spy, about how they must still be alive and how they must’ve blended in by now. You feel the tension rising as you listen to his assumptions, trying to register everything he’s trying to come across with, and it all makes sense when you hear two consecutive thundering of little intervals.

You quickly turn around and swerve, shifting your weight to guide your horse back to where the booming sound came from. It’s the alleged sound intelligent titans make when they transform, and you know push has come to shove if you hear two of them.

As far as you remember, the key weapon was situated together with your squad, you being the only one left out, so you’ll find them where Eren is. You let your horse gallop in great speed, heart thumping loudly in your chest it’s almost deafening. Please, be safe.

It feels like decades have already gone by when you arrive at the terrorizing scene of carnage.

You put your horse to an abrupt halt and jump off, cold sweat breaking without control as you stumble upon corpses and corpses you achingly recognize, the life in their eyes strenuously extracted. Gunther, Eld, Oluo… Petra.

An immense vertigo hits your head, your field of vision blurring upon seeing them drained of consciousness. You refuse to accept the view, shaking your head like a child in utmost declination. It seems you’ve only followed behind the Captain, finding him looking at the same plight.

“Levi…” you helplessly call as if seeking for refuge and saving. But it horrifies you the most when you meet his dead gaze deprived of rest, almost exactly looking like theirs, striking violently at your heart. No, not you, too…

Streams of tears shed endlessly from the corners of your eyes, and Levi doesn’t know what to do. He’s beyond pained, watching the only comrade he has left on his team slowly break down due to the shambles. He can’t afford to be frozen by the fathomless torment he’s currently trying to overcome, nor does he have the luxury to stay by your side and console you.

He has no choice but to keep moving.

“Call the others for assistance and put their bodies on a carriage,” are the last words he gives you before taking his leave, wires zipping and clutching into the surfaces of the tree barks as he skillfully maneuvers with his gear.

You think for a second, is he that used to losing people? but you completely miss out on how he slashes the giant enemy in great anger, expertly cutting flesh like he’s never done before as if it’s his only chance to momentarily pour out his emotions, all the while trying to stay objective.

Your whole body weakens and you fall to your knees, getting a closer look at the dead woman before your sight. Your hand acts on its own, stretching out to painstakingly tuck Petra’s locks behind her ear like how she always styled it. Your lips tremble as you attempt to fight your threatening sobs back.

She has slipped out from both your reaches.

Since then, you limited your interactions to those that were only really necessary, because for the first time in a while, you feel utterly alone. Years of having the sweet girl by your side all gone into the dust, along with the overwhelming loss of your whole squad, everything is weighing you down.

Flashes of memories come at the most misplaced time every now and then, and you can’t handle it when it triggers in public, causing you to lock yourself up in your room, weeping in secret.

You can’t be any more thankful to your Captain for letting you wallow in your own way of coping. Most importantly, though a small part of you still doesn’t want to admit, you’re more than grateful he stayed alive all throughout the last of the mission, coming back home with you.

You still remember the hurt in his eyes that no matter how hard he attempted to conceal, still peers out. It was visible when you had no choice but to throw the bodies out of the carriages, bringing not a single fallen soldier back. It was visible when Petra’s father asked the Captain for his daughter, even going as far as spilling his plans of arranging a marriage between the two young pair.

It’s haunting you so much, you haven’t had an hour of sleep after arriving back even if there’s an upcoming operation. Despite it being against your will, you frequently wonder how he’s doing.

One night, you find yourself walking through the halls, unable to force your mind to just shut down and rest without stressing out for the uncountable time.

You don’t know why you’re fully decisive of where to go and who to find. You don’t know why you feel calmer every step further. You don’t know why you’re so eager as you push on the wooden doors of the mess hall. You don’t know why you already expected to see him there.

“Oh, look at the old geezer drinking his tea in the dark. Do you know what time it is? It’s past curfew,” you inform sarcastically, voice also forging a front to sound normal. It’s not yet past curfew, you just want to tick him off.

“You’re only four years younger, and it’s not,” Levi answers as he lets his eyes land on yours. It’s obvious you’re only trying to clown around, the exhaustion in your face giving away your crestfallen state.

“What? How do you know that?” you ask, scandalized.

“I recognize the time.”

“I meant my age?”

“Because I am your Captain, woman. Don’t push me,” he hisses and brings his teacup into his mouth, the hot beverage staining on his tongue just the way he likes it. Even more so that it’s the only thing he can rely on at the moment. That’s what he thinks.

You scowl and sigh. Fair enough.

You take a seat in front of him and he gives you an unreadable look, as usual. Does he feel intruded? All of a sudden, you feel shy, hoping you’re not bothering him.

“What? I won’t mess with you, I’m tired,” you argue upon seeing him stare you down like something’s off with you.

Levi studies your expression, finding your face a bit similar to his in a not so positive way. With a shallow sigh, he decides to let you be and do what you want.

You prop your cheek on your elbow and maintain eye contact. “How’s your leg?” you quiz, genuinely curious of his current condition. The bastard brought home an injury as souvenir, rendering him downright useless for the plans the Scouts had right ahead.

“Not good,” he says, earning him a hum in response. The longer he lets his glance stay on yours, the more he notices the little details in the way you presented yourself.

Tonight, you spared no effort in fixing your hair, still a bit messy from the tossing and turning earlier in desperate hopes to fall asleep. Your lips were dry and chapped, he notes to call you out for it later. For all he knows, you might be dehydrated already. Your eyes? Unquestionably racked with pain.

You rest your face on top of your overlapped arms and settle to find a comfortable position.

“Go to your room if you want to sleep,” he orders, which you only ignore. Does he seriously think you’ve been able to sleep these days? Because you’re sure as heck he can’t with those dark under eyes of him. “Your neck will only get stiff in that position,” he adds.

Something about the company he generously, though not obviously, offers makes your eyelids fall shut in ease, his baritone voice helping your nerves compose themselves.

“I said I’m tired, give me a break…” you gradually lose volume as you speak, slowly drifting off without knowing.

Levi clicks his tongue when you finally succumb to drowsiness.

It’s not like he doesn’t have any options left, but he couldn’t do anything as he stays all night to watch over you. Surprisingly enough, the company felt comforting that he can’t bring himself to leave.

Couple hours later, he’s still up and reading a book when he hears a soft whimper escape your lips. Levi takes a glimpse at you and is a bit baffled to catch sight of a lone driblet trickling from your lids.

Sighing, he feels inclined to wipe it away with his thumb in sympathy and does as his subconscious says. The moment his calloused finger touches your skin, he realizes that you were undeniably warm. So much for a brat like you.

When you wake up, you feel a heavy cloth wrapped around your soldiers. You check the surroundings and remember falling asleep in the dining, later seeing that the fabric is a tan jacket, a uniform. The familiar scent enters your nostrils, and you name its owner right away.

An involuntary wave of heat rises to your cheeks and you’re uncertain why. It’s Captain Levi’s.

It makes you contemplate out of nowhere, was it wrong to treat him like a competition?

Thinking about it, you kind of regret not being casual with him. Without question, you’re not really in best terms with him, having an eye for the same person for a long time, that should be understood. He’s an outstanding soldier, that you can admit, but you can’t exactly put up with his strict ways at times, some of it coming off as irrational.

Maybe you should really just accept the fact that he’s a great Captain nevertheless. Because even though you viewed him like that all this time, he’s still being considerate in some ways.

A small smile forms on your lips. You definitely should start warming up to him. He’s the only team you’ve got left.

—

Tray in hand, you enter the Captain’s room, not bothering with a knock. To hell with that, I’ve got a handful, if he complains about his privacy or some crap, I’ll shove this damn food to his face.

Yes, you decided to bring him his lunch after the successful-fail raid in Stohess District. Honestly, you’re damn tired to the bones, but you take it upon yourself to give Levi a short visit.

He gives you an annoyed stare, obviously not expecting your company, and you only roll your eyes. “What’s that?” he asks.

“Food. What, is your old age getting to you? Need some glasses?” you talk back, not up for his dumb question.

Things aren’t going so well for the Survey Corps, political stances going against your brigade, comrades dying one by one you’re not entirely sure if their death was in vain or not. It’s only a miracle the Commander found a way to nullify the consequences about to come your way. That’s why Levi better not raise your hackles bad or your brain will completely explode in front of him.

He ignores your sardonic jest and eyes the tray, primarily looking for the tea, if you brought one. You did. But he keeps his hands to himself for a while.

“It’s too early for dinner, and I could’ve gone to get my own food.” An exasperated sigh escapes your throat, hearing his argument.

“This is your late lunch, sir,” you inform candidly, taking him by surprise. True enough, you didn’t mean to be so observant, but you saw him skip lunch earlier before the raid. Heck, this isn’t even the first time he deliberately missed it. You know he’s still unwell and at a loss just as much as you are—maybe even worse, and that’s preventing him from taking care of himself.

Of course, he’s still your Captain whom you’re willing to serve, wholeheartedly, at that. Hence, you’re going to take care of him if he’s not doing it himself, whether he likes it or not. If even this guy leaves you, then you’ll probably arrive at the end of your wits.

With an exasperated sigh, you set his meal on top of the nightstand right beside his bed. “Are you enjoying being a useless Captain?” you cross your arms and quiz, having enough of his prideful attempts for rejection.

“Tch, you know full well I’m not,” he answers and averts his glance, looking outside the window and the dimming skies.

“Then eat your food and stop complaining,” you lastly command, real bossy and assertive that he’s on the brink of cocking a brow in question.

He falls silent. You were right, he won’t get any better if he continues to mistreat himself. Besides, it’s already you who went out of your way to prepare him food, he shouldn’t just let that go to waste. Finally giving in, Levi first grabs the teacup by its mouth and takes a sip, nose immediately scrunching in repulsion upon tasting the beverage. You might be trying to poison him, after all.

“This tea is shit.”

“I said stop complaining.”

—

A whole different wave of hurdles and complications just got overcome after the wall breach alarm got deemed false, and three new intelligent titans were revealed. Seeming as though those weren’t even enough, humanity’s key weapon got kidnapped as well. Naturally, a rescue operation was deployed to action, losing a ton more soldiers in the process.

Everything is starting to become overwhelming, you’re both physically and mentally exhausted, and emotionally. Everything is beginning to feel like a pain in the neck, as if the Scout Regiment didn’t have that way from the start.

It’s actually just as you guessed. When you went outside without a full functioning team and a Captain to follow orders from, you felt lost and misplaced. The novel experience was depressing, to say the least, moving forward without the ones you’ve fought side by side with through the years.

You can’t help but find yourself looking for a familiarity, a middle ground of the sort. Feeling like a storm is building up inside you for trying to suppress your problems all by yourself.

On the low spirited trip back, you eventually realize you needed someone. And who else is there aside from him?

You ride your horse back to the walls, aching for his presence. Anything that has to do with him, you want to see and feel.

It’s almost like vexing decades have passed when you arrive and return to the headquarters. You hop off your horse, movements slow and back hunched, aura visibly despondent.

Your half lidded eyes desperately scan the fields to search for that one person, comforting satisfaction taking over your entire body as you find him standing a few meters away from your form.

Funnily enough, he was waiting for you just the same.

Levi couldn’t decipher what shitty smile you tried to give him, it was only plain pitiful in his eyes that his guts are telling him to walk over to you and give you a welcome. He didn’t have to do it, though.

Because maybe you did the first step. Maybe you took big strides or maybe you eagerly ran to his figure to feel his warmth against your body. But nothing else matters when you reach out both your trembling arms to him, now wrapped around his sturdy body, locking him in an embrace you never thought you’d feel your whole life.

You slowly descend to a sobbing mess, completely abandoning the idea of you looking like a mere crybaby in his eyes. He’ll surely bring this up some other time, but damn that. All you know is that you needed this, badly.

It’s shameful, being fully aware that you’re slowly eating your words. Whenever you think of how you put the tiny distance between you and him, you just want to slap your palm across your face. In reality, he isn’t so bad.

You want to thank him for letting you free yourself and let it all out, but your awfully shaky sobs are hindering you from doing so.

Levi senses your exhaustion, and a whole other variety of intense emotions. You’ve been keeping some burden to yourself, too. It’s amusing to him in a way that you’re both similar in a lot of things. Especially in the bad habit of bottling oneself up, assuming it’d do any better.

Deep down, he’s glad you let loose and opened your walls to him. He cares for you, after all.

As you weep against his chest, lungs stuttering and eyes turning bloodshot, Levi allows his hand to pat your back, lightly stroking it to make you calm down.

It is, indeed, wordlessly reassuring, telling you that he was there. You never imagined that of all people, he had the ability to offer the exact solace you’re looking for, just with the simple gesture.

For once, he lets it slide that you’re all bloody, sweaty, dirty, filthy—name it—when making contact with him. He just doesn’t know that needed this as well. In fact, the entire time you were away, his foot mindlessly tapped in full expectancy of your arrival, waiting with bated breath. Not like he’ll admit that.

“Don’t you dare speak,” you threaten amidst your shaky hiccups, and he almost finds it amusing how you can still manage to act so tough in front of him when you’re already breaking down against him.

He secretly heaves out a sigh, the expression of relief escaping your ears, “Brat.”

Both of you stand there underneath the twilight to dusk horizon, ignoring how some of your subordinates watch you in shock, or how you’re not halfway the trouble yet, still utterly clueless of what lies ahead. Because right now, you were still together. You had each other, someone to lean on in this wretched mess.

Without the two of you knowing precisely why, both your hearts feel a tad bit alive.

[archerdaryl]

London in Your Eyes.

After pulling your name for Secret Santa, Daryl comes and finds you at the Christmas fair. Inspired by Last December by Nina Nesbitt.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Tags: cute christmas vibes, sfw, a lil sad a lil fluffy a lil slow burn?? Word Count: around 3k Notes: This is my very first fanfiction I’ve written in literal years -- I’d love to hear what you guys think as I’m a little nervous but I hope you enjoy it!!

Against the soft blankets of snow that had long settled since the beginning of December, flashes of red and green could be seen wherever you looked from the guard tower. Amongst them were shadows you recognised, the figures of the people weaving themselves in and out of various stalls that had been set up for the Christmas fair.

You wanted to object to it the first time The King brought it up, especially after the events that occurred at the original. It seemed futile, you weren’t sure you could take another massacre, and it was too God damn cold to be lingering outside. And yet, you folded.

You couldn’t argue with hope. And if Ezekial was good at anything, it was inspiring just that.

Snowflakes had begun to dance in the evening air once more as you diverted your attention back towards the forest that surrounded the walls. You could hear Luke sing what sounded like a song you used to know but couldn’t quite make out as he made his way to his stall where he had wooden instruments up for trade. Down the same lane were various baked goods and crafts made by different members of the community. The kids even had their own art stall, endearingly decorated with looped paper covered in paint and cotton wool shaped into snowmen.

Ezekiel had asked if you wanted to contribute anything. You declined, not because you didn’t want to help but because playing pretend had never been something you were good at -- even as a kid yourself. And especially at Christmas time.

Of course, you played it off a lot more casually than that. You weren’t one to divulge the details of traumas that no longer mattered in the grand scheme of things. After making fun of your lack of artistic talent you insisted on keeping watch for the majority of the evening so that everyone else could enjoy what the fair had to offer. You knew where you stood in that tower. You couldn’t feel the tip of your nose and you had to keep bouncing your knees to maintain circulation, but you felt secure.

You brought your gloved hands up to your mouth and huffed, allowing the warmth to wash over your fingers. You had been up there for several hours now and the most exciting thing to happened was a walker in a hard hat causing a scene by clanging its head against the metal walls. Someone else manning the perimeter had dealt with it, taking what little entertainment you could have had away from you, but at least no one had to worry about an oncoming herd.

“Hey.”

You turned swiftly towards a voice drenched in a Southern drawl, eyebrows raised in surprise knitting themselves together.

“You need to stop doing that.”

“Doin’ wha’?”

“Sneaking up on me.”

Daryl Dixon was one of few people who got the jump on you and it was equal parts annoying and endearing. You stood upright from the post you had been leaning on and took a couple of steps towards him, eyes adjusting to his height as you did so.

“Didn’ mean to.” He confessed, “Thought you might be bored.”

“Maybe a little.” You sighed, “I’m mostly just cold.”

He watched you carefully, one hand fiddling with something in his jacket pocket while the other swung at his side holding a large flask. Your cheeks and nose were pink and he found himself indebted to the harsh winds that were to blame.

“Is that-”

“Mulled wine.” He interrupted, “Whatever tha’ is.”

The pair of you had been dancing around something unspoken for the past year, aware but unwilling to cross a line that could ruin the comfort you found in each other. That and you had both seen what happened to people who got attached to others. It was uncharted territory neither of you had ventured into with anyone for a long long time, and though he often daydreamed of you like a teenager and you were constantly worrying about him, the risk seemed too much.

“You’ve never had mulled wine?” You asked curiously, taking the flask he handed to you and shivering slightly as you wrapped your palms around it, “It’s really good actually. And hot.”

The question may as well have been rhetorical. The pair of you hadn’t shared a great deal about your lives before the dead took over, but he had told you enough that you knew Daryl was raised on beer and moonshine. You cared for neither, admittedly. Gin had always been your vice.

“Besides, I thought you liked to drink alone Dixon.”

He exhaled in amusement but didn’t offer a retort. Instead he stepped towards the cabinet at the back of the watch tower and retrieved a large blanket. Your mouth practically dropped to the floor and he fought a smile from creeping onto his lips.

You hadn’t even thought to check. Your cheeks grew even pinker.

“C’mon. Ain’t’ nothin’ happenin’ in the next ten minutes.”

With furrowed brows you looked back out onto the forest, studying its movement and mystery. Chances are, he was right. Nothing had happened so far and nothing likely would, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“Don’ make me take back tha’ wine.”

“No! Don’t you dare.” You whipped your head back towards him and narrowed your eyes. “It’s warm.”

“So’s this blanket. Come on.”

You made a point of rolling your eyes as you followed Daryl out onto the deck. Before you could complain about the cold (which honestly wasn’t that much worse than inside the tower) Daryl had shook out the blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. You mumbled a thank you as he lowered himself to the ground and allowed his legs to swing free over the edge of the deck. You followed suit, the flask of hot mulled wine still between your hands acting like your own personal furnace.

It was darker now and hundreds of lights had been switched on so that people could still find their way around the fair. Even you couldn’t deny the wonder and whimsy of it all. Kids were throwing snowballs, families were laughing and making memories that were worth something. There was makeshift tinsel and decorations all over the place and the rich scent of pig and apple sauce hung in the air. In the sweet silence you shared with the archer, there was a moment you forgot where you were. The world you now lived in was an afterthought, and the Christmas fair was an almost perfect picture of somewhere you yearned to be.  

Daryl noticed the unmistakable twinkle of mourning in your eyes before you could even try to force a smile. He reached for the flask and took it from you, unscrewing its lid and pouring you a cup of mulled wine. He took a swig straight from the bottle and though he furrowed his brows and smelled the contents immediately afterwards, he didn’t complain.

“Ain’t ever seen nothin’ like this.” He offered.

You took a large sip and closed your eyes, savouring every note that swam across your tongue.

“I have. A long time ago.”

“Yeah?”

Your eyes flit open and you looked right at him. In what little light was left you could see his lips were already slightly stained red. You didn’t doubt your own were the same. He watched your mouth as you took another sip.

“My family was close. Always saved up their holidays so we could get a long Christmas together.” You found yourself lowering your gaze as you spoke, soon returning it to the hustle and bustle before you,  “Spent a couple years in London. They had markets just like these. Winter Wonderland I think they called it. Never thought I’d see anything like it again.”

It was abundantly clear from the very beginning that the pair of you had led very different lives before the world went to waste. He liked talking about his past even less than you did and for very different reasons too. You never pushed like some of the other’s did. In the end that was likely what pushed you both together.

“It’s funny how shit like that sneaks up on you.” You continued, “Every time I think I’ve moved on or let something go it just… I don’t know. None of this should even matter anymore.”

“You got a past worth rememberin’.” You felt a large hand tug at the blanket hanging around you, pulling it to make sure it didn’t fall, “Ain’t no shame in that.”

In truth, Daryl enjoyed listening to you reminisce. It was a rare gift you offered him, one that he would have found annoying from anyone else considering the stark differences in your upbringing. But you spoke about your past like you were telling a story, keeping that little bit of distance so it didn’t wash over you all at once. Whether you knew it or not, you handed him another puzzle piece every time you let him in. He could sit there and listen to you for hours. He wanted to.

A calloused hand found its way into his jacket once again, fiddling with a small object wrapped in aluminium foil. Now didn’t seem appropriate. They still had time.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah.” His cheeks said otherwise, “Wines doing the trick.”

You pulled your legs up and shimmied a little closer to him to him anyways before forcing your arm through his. He didn’t object, not even when you leaned on him a little.

“What other shit did they have in London?” He pushed.

“Mulled cider. That’s probably more up your street” You took your last sip before nudging him to top the cup up, “I used to love these little pancake balls covered in Nutella, strawberries, and icing sugar. Wasn’t Winter Wonderland unless I was covered in chocolate by the end of it.”

Daryl slowly lowered the side of his head down onto yours. It didn’t feel like too much, like you’d suddenly catch yourself and make excuses to go back on watch. Instead, you kept talking, and Daryl kept fiddling with the gift in his pocket.

“I remember it being loud. Music and people everywhere. And it was cold, but never as cold as this. Didn’t really snow there, which I always thought was weird.”

“If you wan’ loud I heard Luke and Jerry were gon’ go carollin’ later.”

A chuckle escaped you as you took another gulp of wine, “You know what, I think I’ll stay up here.”

Comfortable silence took over as you both watched the fair. It had barely quietened down, even though a lot of people had begun their ride back to Hilltop or Alexandria. It was the first time in a long time that there wasn’t a human threat to worry about, so why wouldn’t people make the most of a time like this? You only wished you could let go like others could.

“Oh, shit.” You sat up suddenly, “I forgot about that Secret Santa thing Jerry made us do.”

“Who’s name d’ya pull?”

“It’s supposed to be Secret Santa.” You paused and sighed, “I pulled Jesus. Is this irony? It feels ironic. I’ll figure it out.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Daryl’s lips as he leaned forward onto the wooden barrier keeping them from falling if either of them were to take a wrong step. He felt something gnawing at him in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed hard in a futile attempt to get rid of it before clearing his throat.

“Who’s name did you pull?”

“Like ya’ said, it’s Secret Santa.” He grumbled.

You rotated yourself slightly to face him, allowing just one leg to hang free from the deck whilst the other was bent at the knee. 

“Don’t be an asshole, Dixon.” You pleaded, “Tell me!”

“Mind ya’ business.”

“Unless it’s me I don’t see why you can’t tell me.”

Daryl stayed quiet and you couldn’t help but laugh in both amusement and disbelief.

“You’re kidding. Did you really get me something?”

“Will you shut up? You ain’t even s’posed t’ know.”

He finally turned his head to find you unable to suppress the grin spreading across your face. Your eyes were twinkling again, but not with the sadness of earlier. That paired with the blush on your nose and cheeks from the cold and your little hands clinging desperately to the blanket around you made it impossible to say no. That gnawing feeling grew and he took a large breath before retrieving his hand from his pocket.

“Don’ tell Jerry.”

He passed you an strangely shaped object covered in aluminium foil. You took it from him and beamed. You weren’t sure why you were surprised he actually got you something. Maybe it was the fact he thought to wrap it at all, or that he was trying to follow the rules so it really would be a surprise. Would you have ever known it was him if you hadn’t pestered him in this moment? You held the gift in your hands as if it could break at any second whilst your heart was attempting to beat itself out of your chest.

“Do you want me to wait?” You asked, just in case, “I can open it later.”

Daryl shook his head and grabbed the flask again, taking several gulps to warm up his insides. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, studying your features carefully waiting for a sign of repulsion or embarrassment. It never came and without realising it his own features softened.

“It’s yours. Sorry I couldn’ find any paper.”

“It’s shiny and it serves its purpose.” You responded without hesitation, “It’s perfect.”

You carefully unfolded the foil in a futile attempt not to tear it and destroy the fantasy Daryl had created for you. The intricate motions felt painfully slow, and with every layer you tore away the nastier the self-deprecation in his head got. He felt stupid for trying. Was it too much? Was it not enough? He had no fuckin’ idea. Even before the world went to shit he didn’t come from the kind of family that exchanged gifts. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t. All he could do was drink and bite at the skin of his lips until they bled.

“Oh my god.”

He swallowed hard and braced himself for the worst. Your eyebrows were drawn together as you studied the object in all its detail. Eventually you shook it, and you grinned again.

“Where the hell did you find something like this?”

It was a snowglobe, somehow perfectly intact despite the number of years it had been collecting dust in a world full of violence and filth. Daryl had stumbled upon it on a run where he had found a strip of houses to loot. It was sat on a mantelpiece, and though Daryl didn’t know much about England or even London, he knew about Big Ben.

You shook it again and laughed. He watched you gaze at it in wonder, eyeing the details on the clock tower as plastic snow danced around it. Most of his anxieties melted away at the sight of that alone, but he still felt uneasy, as if he had done something wrong.

“I love it, Daryl. I didn’t even realise I’d spoken about London before.”

He nodded, his words stuck in the back of his throat. You had only mentioned London once before, something in passing, but he remembered. He remembered everything you said to him over the years. Maybe that was why this felt so wrong, as if he had taken this -- whatever this is -- too far.

Your heart was still thumping. Daryl had never been a talker, but he’d also never failed to show you that he cared. Even just by doing little things like making sure you ate properly or were sleeping okay. This was a different kind of show and tell and you weren’t sure what to do with it. 

Your affection for the archer had snuck up on you a long time ago and you usually found it quite easy to push it down and away. There were other things to concern yourself with, things to do to make sure not just you but your community could survive. But right now you were stuck in a loop. Behind his grouchy disposition was a warmth you desperately wanted to wrap yourself in.

The blanket wasn’t enough. Not right now. 

“It’s nothin’.” He finally responded, and this time you were lost for words.

You turned back towards the fair, avoiding his blue gaze as you thought to yourself. Neither of you knew what the hell this was or what the hell you were doing. You had spent so much time ignoring or rejecting the possibility of something more that now it had slapped you both across the face you were dumbfounded.

Was it supposed to be this complicated? This confusing? Or was it actually not at all and you were both just useless at all of this?

Tomorrow things would likely carry on as normal but right now, things were different. Something had shifted and it was entirely possibly you had been forced into the uncharted territory you were both so scared of. 

You swallowed hard shimmied closer to him again. Using your free arm, you tried to fling half of the blanket around his broad shoulders. It fell off of him immediately, but he didn’t question it. He picked it up, nudged closer to you, and wrapped it around himself.

A sigh of relief escaped you. Not just because he took the blanket but because he was practically a radiator. 

“I knew you were cold.” Your words were soft, almost hesitant despite being teasing.

Daryl looked down at you, his tongue flitting across his bottom lip as he watched you watch the world go by at the Christmas fair. He carefully sought out your hand with his own, and without even thinking about it you allowed your fingers to intertwine with his.

“You’re the one wi’ blue fingers.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Instead, you rested your head on his shoulder again with a smile and allowed whatever excuses he made to comfort him. The fact you didn’t pull away was enough, and though he always knew you wouldn’t be as rough and calloused as he was, he couldn’t quite get over how soft your fingers were.

“Did you want to look around the fair?”

He allowed his thumb to glide across the back of your hand.

“Nah. I like it up here.”

[atsukashii]

❝remember me❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS: ➛ you bought something forbidden from the universe, and now you must pay the consequences of buying yourself a soulmate

» CHARACTER PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x reader

» WORD COUNT: 10k

» GENRE: guardian angel au, ANGST with no happy ending

» WARNINGS: major character death, blood, violence

« masterlist || ao3 »

From the moment your eyes had first met a pair of red vermillion ones, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had seen them before. That you had witnessed a volume of different emotions swirling inside those irises before, but you could never put your finger on where you had seen them. 

In fact, your fascination with his eyes wasn’t even on the top of the list when it came to your unusual relationship with Katuski Bakugou. You had met as children through your parents and had bared witness as he grew from a confident boy into a sometimes arrogant but determined man, ready to take on the world and bleed for it. To his brash and explosive nature, you were the quiet calm that washed over his bones, soothing his balms with just your presence. His quirk caused destruction if not used properly, and yours healed. You wouldn’t classify your relationship as friends when you were younger, it always seemed to run deeper. 

You often knew what he was thinking before he even moved to do it. You knew his tendencies, his mannerisms, you knew him inside and out, and he knew all there was to know about you. Katsuki Bakugou knew what set you off, what made you tick. He knew you almost as well as you knew yourself. You were polar opposites in every sense of the word, yet somehow were constantly drawn to each other.

And as you grew, your relationship with him evolved as well. 

Entering U.A. had been a turning point in both of your lives. He had been hailed as a hothead, arrogant, and you the protege of the famous recovery girl for your incredibly strong healing quirk. The two of you really couldn’t be more different.

However, you were still drawn to each other by a force that you couldn’t explain. Always conscious of the other person's whereabouts, of their thoughts and their feelings. You both were on a different wavelength than all the other students.

Often, the two of you were mistaken to be dating, and you never bothered to correct someone when they mentioned it because what you felt for Katsuki Bakugou, it was definitely love, but it was something else too. 

Rolling over on your bed, you look up to the ceiling and rest your arms above your head. Another sleepless night, one of many recently, where you have been pulled from sleep by dreams so vivid they tugged at an empty space in your memory with such tenacity, you woke to a sob begging to leave your lips. You want to sleep, you need the rest, knowing that tomorrow you have a day of full training with Recovery Girl. But it just doesn’t come. 

Giving up, you rise from your bed and walk towards your balcony, swiftly opening the door with a silent hiss. The full moon casts the world alight outside, and you sit onto the old chair you had forced your friends to help drag up here in your first year. With your blanket from your bed, you settle into the chair and let your eyes close as a gentle breeze washes over you. Maybe, just maybe out here, you can get some sleep. 

A man's laugh echoes around you, so happy and full of life, you spin in your spot trying to find the source. But the noise teases you, becoming so loud it begins to make your ears ring. The noise pounding harshly against your eardrums, as if to engrain the sounds into your mind. Covering your ears with your hands, you fall to your knees, expecting a sharp pain from the fall, you close your eyes, but there’s nothing. The sound is gone, there’s nothing but a gentle breeze that brushes across your cheekbones. Opening your eyes, the bright light covering everything around you has faded until you’re standing in the middle of a field, a very old Japanese style house sits far in front of you, the lights on and laughter coming from inside it. Cautiously, you weave through the grains of wheat, following a tug in your chest and a voice in your head that says ‘Yes, go there, that is what you seek.’ 

When you get close enough to hear the quiet music, you pause in your steps, looking at the two faceless figures inside the house. They stand in the kitchen, one dancing around whilst the other just laughs. You don’t know who they are, but you’ve never seen two people so happy. Dancing and laughing whilst preparing food, it felt so dreamlike, yet something screamed at you that this was real. 

Your warring thoughts quiet as something gently flutters in front of your eyes before landing on your nose. Turning your head to the sky, falling snow begins to cover the world in gentle flurries that make you immediately feel at peace. The clouds block out the moon and every bit of light, until the world is wrapped in darkness and all you can hear is the laughter from the people as you fall. 

You open your eyes, your chest heaving as your brain becomes foggier than before. A sob is threatening to bubble from your lips, and you sit up from your position as if that will help. You rub at your chest as you bite back the cry from your lips. Your heart aches as if you’re mourning the dream, but you can’t make out why. 

“You’re going to catch a cold out here dumbass.” Your eyes move from your feet to the vermillion red pair on the balcony next to yours, and you let out a shiver at his gaze.

“Well at least I got some sleep out here. I couldn't get any inside.”

“You weirdo.” he grumbles, but you know Katsuki is watching you carefully. “Are you having those dreams again?” 

“Recovery girl thinks it may be a side effect of my quirk. That by healing people, when they are at their most vulnerable, I somehow gain access to a bit of their mind or soul, or something like that.” You explain what you had told him time and time again after you had let it slip that you were unable to sleep because of vivid dreams. 

“That would explain how realistic the dreams are, but it still makes no sense.” 

“What time is it?”

“Two thirty-three.” Katsuki answers and you let out a groan. You had only managed to sleep for an hour. Fantastic. For a moment you stand in silence on your balconies, just taking everything in and appreciating each other's presence.

“I’m going to say this just once, so listen close. Do you need help?” To anyone else, you suppose it would come across as Bakugou being rude, but as you look at him, and see the genuine concern buried deep in his eyes, you know his intentions are anything but malicious. 

“Would you?”

“You don’t even need to fucking ask.” With effortless grace, Bakugou places his foot on the railing before clearing the gap between your two rooms, his feet quickly touching the floor of your own balcony. Without waiting or you Katsuki trudges inside, expecting you to follow, before climbing into your bed. You follow suit with no hesitation, cuddling up to the blonde’s side and resting your cheek to his chest, appreciating the way it rises and falls with every breath. 

“Thank you Bakugou,”

“Just don’t fucking mention it.” He replies, closing his eyes and letting you sleep against him. Since you were children, you were constantly plagued with the inability to sleep. However, Bakugou seemed to be a remedy for that, where you would only nap when on playdates, and when you were old enough to approach the topic with him, he had taken it with no anger or annoyance. He truly was a different person with you. Everyone had noticed but never mentioned it with fear of facing his wrath. And you are glad because to try and explain the connection that the two of you seem to share, you simply can’t, and you don’t think you will ever be able to. 

“We have a briefing tomorrow, apparently the rise in villain activity has the teachers freaking out. They’re bringing us to explain what's going on.”

“Do you think we will have to fight?” You manage to bring yourself to ask. Whether he notices the nervous tremor in your voice at the idea of your friends going into war or not, you aren’t completely sure, but Bakugou gently plays with a strand of your hair as he stares at the ceiling. 

“Yeah, I do. Not that you’ll be the one beating up the bad guys.” He says, but he doesn’t deny the fact that you wouldn’t be on the front lines. Because if a war was to break out, you will be. With your healing quirk as strong as it is, you could be the turning point between winning and losing a fight. 

“I hope that it's all not real.”

“A part of me hopes for that too.” Bakugou admits. He looks down at you and gently cups your cheek, knowing you are unable to hide the fear on your face, and even if you were able to, he would see it. He always does. 

“I’m scared Katsuki.” There's a vulnerability in his eyes as he slowly tilts his head and places his lips to yours in a whisper of a kiss. Immediately shocks erupt across your skin making every single hair on your arms raise in alarm. You head dizzies and you gently grip his shirt to steady yourself to the moment. When he pulls back and you get another glimpse of those ruby eyes, shock rolls through you at the expression in them. There’s fear in his eyes, and you’ve never seen it before. 

“Me too, but nothing is going to happen to either of us. I won’t fucking allow it.” He grumbles before rolling onto his side and bringing you closer. Somewhere along the way, the two of you fall asleep, and then rise again when the noise of people coming from the common room is too hard to ignore. 

                        +   +   +   +   

The mood was somber as everyone disbanded from the meeting room. Instinctively, you reach for the person beside you and grab their hand. Bakugou doesn’t question it as he threads his fingers through yours, and gives your hand a squeeze. 

Tomorrow, they would organise a offensive strike against the currently known base of the League of Villains. The outcome was expected to fall into a full on war, which is why it was crucial to make the first move. You had felt the confidence radiating off the pro’s in the meeting, as if to hide their nerves from the students who will be taking part in the mission as well. The world would be different after tomorrow, and you weren’t completely sure if you were ready for that outcome.

Looking up, you see Katsuki watching Endeavour speak with Aizawa down the end of the hall, his careful gaze picking up every small movement and action. You must have watched him long enough for him to notice, and he turns his gaze to you. 

“Why are you staring at me?” He growls at you, but there's no true bite. You don’t really have an answer for him, so instead you voice your unease. 

“Everything is going to change tomorrow, isn’t it?” The words don’t make the pressure on your chest any easier to handle, if anything, they cause your thoughts to cloud as urgency fills your blood. 

“Probably. We’re going to take out those fucking bastards and the world will be better for it. We’ll be fine angel face.” He says looking down at you before dragging you out of the building and back towards the dorms.

You hope Bakugou is right, but something inside you screams that nothing good will come from tomorrow. And even though you won’t be taking part in the combat, you will be there on the front lines supplying support and healing who you can. 

One more time, you glance up at Bakugou and decide that you will do everything within your power to help make sure that everything goes right tomorrow.

                                  +   +   +   +   

You’re in hell.

Your bones groan under the pressure as you place your hands against the pro hero’s shoulder/ The wound instantly begins to close, and you ignore the emerging burning pain from your own shoulder as you use your quirk. You have trained to be able to withstand large amounts of pain, and your healing quirk was stronger then a lot of others, making you a saviour to the school and today. 

“Y/n, we need your help over here!” You turn your head at Izuku’s voice and gasp as you see him carrying an unconscious Shouto over his shoulder. You get up from the now healed man and race to your friends. You notice what he’s cut up quite badly, but by simply placing your hand on him, you can see the broken ribs, one threatening to pierce his lung. 

“Lay him down.” You say, stepping back. Once Midoriya places Shouto on the floor, you put your hands on his chest and begin to use your quirk, a faint light emitting from your hands as you do so. You take the time to look over Izuku for any injuries, but other than some cuts and bruises he seems to be okay.

It’s only when Shouto lets out a groan and opens his eyes that you let yourself breathe out a sigh of relief. Izuku watches you for a moment before speaking and basically reading your mind. 

“We were taken by surprise from a stray group of villains. Kacchan and I managed to apprehend most of them, but one with a strength quirk basically threw Todoroki through a building, so we decided it was best to fall back for the moment.” He explained and Shouto suddenly let out a groan from between you, opening his eyes and you immediately let out a breath of relief. However it doesn’t last long as his hoarse voice breaks the peace. 

“Where’s Bakugou?” He asks, and your heart drops through your chest. That's right, the three of them are supposed to be in a group. You look from Shouto’s worried gaze and back to Izuku who spins around the makeshift medical hospital. But you already know, he’s not here.

“He was right behind us, I swear-” You don’t even stop to think of what you're doing, your body just begins to move on your own. Ignoring the multiple protests, you sprint out of the building, mentally tugging on that connection deep inside your chest, until you can almost hear it. 

This way. This way.

Hurry.

You have never questioned the feeling once in your life, and you don’t start now. Your legs scream from the overuse of your quirk as you run through rubble and across collapsed structures. But not once do you stop. You have to find him, and something tells you that you need to do it quickly. There's suddenly an explosion from what feels like right beside your head, that has you being thrown back multiple feet. You hit the ground hard and for a moment, the words spin. Your ears ring as you blink your eyes rapidly, trying to focus your balance again. 

Get up. Get up. With shaking hands, you push yourself into a sitting position and try to stop the world from spinning. You try to stare at something to focus your gaze, but a flash of black and orange catches your eyes instead. Standing only a few yards away, is a very bloody Bakugou, with a snarling face and small explosions popping from his hands. 

You can’t make out what he’s saying, but you can see that his leg is very broken, and his hands… he’s overused his quirk so much he’s bleeding. There’s a rumble from beneath your feet, and you watch in horror as the building behind you both begins to crumble, and standing directly in its wake, unable to move, stands Bakugou.

Horror pulses through your veins at sight, and you are on your feet in seconds. One second, you’re running towards the blonde, and the next your feet aren’t even touching the ground and you’re moving faster than you ever thought possible as a dull pain explodes from between your shoulder blades. You reach Katsuki in seconds, grabbing him as you fly past where the building will fall, feeling the gust of air and dust as debris begins to hit the ground where he once stood. By the time you crash into the ground, you’re out of the destruction zone, but not yet out of danger. 

Groaning at your aching body as you open your eyes again, you can’t see anything because of the dust whipping around through the air, and white feathers. You follow the trail of feathers until your senses acknowledge the weighty wings now emerging from either side of your spine. You have wings? Your thoughts are cut off as you finally see the person on the floor a few feet from you. “Bakugou?” You croak. You can barely walk, but you force your legs to move towards the lying figure. He groans at his name, but that groan quickly becomes a cough that splutters ruby droplets onto the grey floor next to him.

“Katsuki!” By the time you reach his side, you don’t know where to look first, or where to heal first. A large wound cover’s his abdomen and you know deep down, it's fatal. But you can stop it, you can save him. 

“You’re not dying on me okay, Just- just keep looking at me okay?” Tears stream down your cheeks as you try not to sob. With a painful cry, he opens his eyes and you give him a soft smile as those red vermillion orbs you love so much meet your own. 

“That’s it, just keep looking at me. It’s all going to be okay.”

Do not fail him. Not again.

Placing your hands against his wound, you feel his warm blood cover your fingers, but you push your quirk into your hands, diving deep into the pit of power inside your chest as fast as you can. Normally, quick healing can cause you to pass out, but you don’t care about repercussions as you look down at Bakugou. You know without a doubt that he is the love of your life, that the connection you have to him basically made it that way, but your heart did the rest. He’s the love of your life, and you won’t let him die. Not when you can do something to stop it. 

Slowly, his wounds begin to stitch back together, and the bleeding begins to slow. With a painful growl, his red vermillion eyes look up at you, pure shock swirling inside them. 

“Y/n?” The light slows from your hands and for a moment you’re blinded. “What did you do?” You feel nothing at first.  

Then the pain hits you like a sledgehammer. You cough as you fall forwards, your body collapsing beneath your weight. A hand catches you as you fall, stopping your descent for a second. You are turned so you can see the sky, and a dirty, bruised and battered Bakugou kneels over you. 

“Y/n!” He’s shouting at you, but you can barely move to reply. More blood leaves your mouth, the taste of copper being the only thing you can taste. You’re so weak. So weak. Bakugou holds onto you, frantically looking over you, as if trying to find a way to fix you. But he can’t. This is how it’s supposed to be, the voice inside your head says, and for some reason you feel content with the outcome. You may have sacrificed yourself, but to let Bakugou live. It was meant to be this way.

“You fucking idiot. You-you MORON! Take it back! Take it back!” He shouts at you, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you manage to croak out. 

“Its not fucking okay! I’m not letting you die. I’m not letting you go,”

“Katsuki,” you look into his eyes, his hands shake as he takes you in. “This was how it was supposed to be.” You aren’t sure what compels you to say it, but it feels right. You know he has the same sense, because Bakugou vehemently shakes his head and snarls at you. 

“Angel face, you’re not dying on me, you hear me?” He’s crying, gripping the front of your hero costume so tightly,

“I love you.” Your words break from pain, but also from sadness, fear. You are dying, and there is no way you would come out of this situation alive.

You are going to die.

“I will find you again, in the next life. I swear it.” You hiss out as the pain in your abdomen worsens. Without looking down you know that the wound that was once open on his stomach, now emerged on your own. It was the side effect of your quirk, healing others at the expense of your own pain. 

“Please,” You’ve never heard him use the word, in all the years you have known him. And you can count on one hand how many times you have been a witness to his tears. But here he was, sat next to you, tears running marks through the dust on his cheeks, sobbing at you. 

“Don’t leave me. I love you. I need you. Don’t go, not yet.”

“I love you Katsuki,” You smile as you close your eyes and feel yourself take your final breath. You feel the shortness of breath, the air pooling inside your lungs before it expels. And part of you wants time to stop, just so you can experience another second of life, another second to see Katsuki, another second to hear him say your name. But as you let out your final breath, you’re content, because this was how it was meant to be.

A gruttal noise ricochets around you, followed by a scream so loud and heartbroken your eyes snap open. Only you’re no longer in the crushing grip of the man you love. Somehow, you’re standing to the side, watching Katsuki clutch your lifeless body to his chest, screaming. Your eyes sting as you watch him break down. You’re sobbing as you see the moment that Izuku and Shouto arrive on the scene, followed by a variety of other heroes. You’re on the floor as you watch them try to take your body from Katsuki’s hands, but the man practically explodes when they try, so they leave you both there. 

A figure appears behind you, how you know that, you’re not completely sure, but you know someone, or something is there. “Did I do something wrong?” You ask the air.

“No, you followed the path that was placed before you.” a voice that is everything and nothing all at once replies. It sounds as if its inside your head, but also everywhere around you. Turning around slowly, you find the source of the voice being a glowing silhouette of a figure. 

“How did I know what to do? How did I manage to get to him intime?” How the fuck did I grow wings? You wanted to be mad, but everything around you held an air of serenity that you couldn’t physically make yourself become mad. 

“You were one of my children once upon a time.” The voice says, and even though you can’t see their eyes, you can feel their gaze on the wings still behind your shoulder blades. “And you bartered for something that you had no right to claim. And now you must endure.”

“Endure what? What did I do to deserve this!” You hiss, looking at Katsuki, rocking you against him, his shouts still meeting your ears. “What did I do to make him have to live through that!” Your yell breaks from your chest broken and angry as you point to the scene in front of you. Turning around back to the figure you are prepared to release yourself upon it when suddenly it's right in front of you, golden liquid swirls in its eyes and you can’t look away.

“You have to see first.” Hands are placed either side of your face, and instantly grief so painful hits your chest, physically knocking you back and pulling a cry from your lips as your world goes black. 

                                             +   +   +   +   

“Don’t you find this boring?” You ask, looking through the small portal to the world below you. The person next to you sighs, and you turn to them, almost taken back that they look like a male version of you. The same eyes and hair. He was your older brother, your brain fills in. 

“Our job is an honour y/n,” he points out, his eyes narrowing on you slightly.

“I know that, I just wish we could do more you know.”

“When you get your client, you will.” He says smiling, gently patting your head as he stands up. “It should be any day now.” You stand up and smile at your brother.

“I will be the best guardian that ever lived!”

“I have no doubt about it cherub.”

                                     ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

So this is what the human world was like? You wonder as your wings fly you past a war torn town to where the tents stand high over the dirt. It smells like death. The small bond in your chest that binds you to your client pulls you down an alley between tents until you’re standing at the entrance of what you know is a makeshift hospital. With no hesitation you walk in, weaving through nurses and patients alike until you find the curtained off room you’re looking for. Inside there's a sharp yell and followed by a stream of words that make you blanch. Mother have mercy, he had the mouth of a sailor. Deciding to wait until the nurses left the room, you slinked inside and pulled the curtains closed behind you.

The man on the bed instinctively looked up and glared at you and for a second it rocked you. He could see you. Wait, of course he could, you were his guardian angel, he was the only human on the planet able to see you unless you willed it so. 

“Who the fuck are you? And why are you in my fucking room?” For a second, you just stared at the man. With his ash blonde hair, he almost seemed as angelic as you, however those red vermillion eyes had your breath hesitating for disperse from your lungs for only but a moment. They were beautiful.

Realising he was still waiting for your response, you straightened your spine and walked to him, shoving your hand out towards him and let your wings spread out behind you. 

“I’m Y/n, your new guardian angel.”

                                      ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

“So you were sent home from the war?” You ask, sitting on the front porch of his old house, swinging your legs as you watched Katsuki work. 

Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, Katsuki turns to you and frowns at your question. He’d given up on trying to ignore you by this point, upon realising that you wouldn’t leave, so he would humour some of your curiosity. You had tried to breach the reason that you were called upon him in the first place, but he hadn’t yet told you, and as you looked blatantly at his glare, you knew today wasn’t going to be that day either. But it never hurt to try. 

“I was discharged.” Was his familiar response, as he lifted the too over his head and brought it down onto the soil once again. 

“Same thing. So you went from being a general in the army, to being working out here… On a farm.”

“It was my mentor's farm.” Katsuki barks at you, instantly on the defensie. His tone has you raising your hands in the air in peace.

“Hey, I’m not judging you. It’s literally part of my job not to.” You joke, hoping to earn a smile from the man, but all he does is turn away and keep working. You knew a little about why you were sent to be Katsuki’s guardian. He was a rare case, where he had already had a guardian angel, one that had requested a transfer. It kicked up such a fuss amongst the guardians that they assigned you, a newly fledged guardian to him, as if handing off a used toy. Sometimes, you would look at the blonde and think just why his previous guardian made such a decision. Sure he was brash and could be an asshole, but you didn’t have to be a guardian angel to see that he had a good heart. But what had he faced in that war? How had that changed him? What demons did he now carry? That was your job, to watch over him, and give him quality of life until his time was up. You weren’t supposed to completely interfere with him, but he looked so incredibly emotionless all the time, you had to do something. 

Standing up from your spot on the porch, you hop down onto the grass and walk towards him. Grabbing the hessian sack containing the seeds by his feet, you look at Katsuki who is now watching you carefully.

“Well if i’m going to be eating your food, I may as well help right?” You say, smiling from ear to ear in encouragement. Please don’t lock me out, I want to help you. Please let me help you…

“Tch whatever, just don’t get in my way cherub.” He hadn’t meant the nickname to stick, but from that moment on it had. It was familiar to you, for its what your brother had called you, but when it came from Katsuki, it seemed to hit your heart differently somehow. 

“I promise!” 

                    ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

“Were you always a cherub or did you have a life before or something?” You’re laying on the roof of the old house, looking up at the dark sky, stars flickering across it, familiar constelations glinting at you. 

“I’m not sure.” You answer honestly, which has him turning to you. 

“What? You don’t know?” He sounds so offended by your words, so you scramble for an explanation. 

“Well, I have a brother. I know he’s my brother, but I don’t know who my parents are. I don’t know if I was always an angel, or if I was something more before…” Your voice trails off as you look at the sky. Was it possible that you could have been human before you were an angel. You were young compared to some other people of your kind, but you never counted birthdays, so you weren’t even sure how old you were. The idea of your existence suddenly seemed too daunting to fully contemplate, and your eyes sting. If you had been human… did that mean you had a family? A mother and a father? Maybe some siblings? Does that mean you had died… Tears leak out of the corner of your eyes and suddenly Katsuki sits up.

“Shit, are you crying?” His question has you rubbing the salt water from your cheeks and looking at your tear covered hands in awe. You had never cried before… so thats what it was like… 

“I- fuck- I didn’t mean to make you cry y/n,” Katsuki is watching you carefully, with actual guilt on his face. The unfamiliar emotion shocks you still for a moment, before you smile softly at him.

“It’s fine, I just never really thought about it before I guess… you had never questioned your existence until this point. It was weird and overwhelming, to suddenly question something you had believed your whole life, something you knew to be true, but not quite having the whole truth. What was once something you had never paid mind to now felt like a cavernous hole in your chest that screamed to be filled with something.

“You were probably just as annoying as a human as you are now, so I wouldn’t get that excited.” A laugh drips from your mouth as you tilt your head back. Never before had you felt so many mixed emotions at once, sadness and happiness contradict each other inside your chest, and you couldn’t do anything but laugh, and offer the man next to you a tear covered smile. 

“You’re probably right. Maybe I was a crap human.”

“I doubt it.” Your head snaps back to him in slight shock. Although Katsuki had been warming up to your presence, he was yet to be so open about it. “You must have done something right to become someone's guardian angel. So rest easy cherub, there's no way you could have done anything bad in your past life - if you had one.” Katsuki says, laying back down on the roof and averting his gaze back to the sky. You can’t help but watch him for just a moment more. Compared to when you two had first met, he seemed a lot more relaxed and at peace out here, in the middle of nowhere working a farm, then he had been elsewhere. It made you happy, and somewhere deep down, you knew you should have simply felt indifferent about it. But things were changing, you were changing, and you didn’t want to stop.

                        ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Katsuki had been out working when someone began pounding on the sliding doors. From your seat on the back porch, you placed down your book and stood up. Glancing out to the fields, you could see a silhouette in the distance and knew Katsuki would take to long to get back, and the person sounded like they needed help right now. You took a step towards the front door but paused when you realised what you were doing. You were seriously about to break one of the sacred laws without a second thought. For letting someone else that wasn’t your client was a taboo, one that people only crossed if absolutely necessary. You’d been warned against it multiple times, yet here you were about to break it with no hesitation.

What was wrong with you? When did you become so laid back that you forgot your own laws? 

More pounding emits from the other side of the screen door, and you can vaguely see the shadow of the person. Your couldn’t help them. You weren’t here, you weren’t even real. 

You. Were. Not. Human. 

“Please, I need help! My daughter is incredibly ill and I don’t know what to do!” This time you don’t falter when you reach and yank open the sliding door. For a moment, the woman looks over you with glazed eyes, but it's quickly broken when the little girl in her arms lets out a whimper. 

“Please, can you help her? I don’t know anything about medicine and the village doctor is a few hours away.” The woman begs with tears in her eyes. The concern in her eyes pulls at something inside you, and you quickly move to the side, ushering her into the house. 

“Come this way, I’ll see what I can do for her.” You say, sliding closed the door behind her and leading her into the main lounge, an area big enough to lay her down comfortably. 

“Thank you so much,” She sighs, placing her daughter down on the bedding on the floor you had pulled out earlier in the day.

“Don’t thank me yet.” You reply. “I don’t know much about medicine from around here, but all I can do is try.” Kneeling down next to the young girl, you close your eyes and let out a shaking breath. There’s a dark aura around her when you open your eyes again, bleeding from her chest, a sight you have come to recognise as death. The little girl was dying. 

Briefly unsure as to what to do for her, you raise your hands over her and gently place your hands on her arm, letting out another shaky breath. You had only ever heard of it in rumours, and seen it briefly when your brother had healed a cut on your leg, but it was worth a try.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you pictured your essence bleeding into the little girl's arm, going into her bloodstream and pushing out the darkness that beckoned her. For a moment, there was nothing other than the gentle rustle of the trees against the old house. But then, a light began to emit from your hands that was so bright you could see it behind your closed eyelids. 

And when you opened your eyes, you saw the golden light streaming from your hands into the little girl, who’s eyes finally began to flutter. By the time it dimmed to nothing, her eyes opened and a sob ripped out of her mother.

“Mother?” she whispered, her voice raspy with sleep. The mother lunged for her, pulling her into a chest with a relieved cry. Holding her tight to her chest, she looked over her daughters head to you and cried. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” You didn’t quite know how to respond, so you simply nodded at her, yourself struck with awe. It was only once you had stood up and moved to give them some space that you noticed Katsuki in the doorway, his brows furrowed and a look on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“How did you do that?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the mother and daughter on his floor. You let out an internal sigh at the fact he wasn’t mad that you had invited them into his house without his permission.

“I’m not sure to be honest.”

“That was incredible.” This time, you gape at him as he moves towards you and cups your cheeks. “That was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.” Katsuki says honestly, and you forget how to breathe. 

“Katsuki…” He ignores your words and looks at the mother on the floor with a fierce glare. You’re about to reprimand him when he folds his arms across his strong chest. 

“If you ever speak to anyone about what happened here-”

“I won’t. I swear.” The mother said, smiling as she stood up. As she passed you she bowed deeply, still holding once again sleeping, but healthy, daughter in her hands. “I will not forget this miracle. Thank you so much for saving my daughter.” And then she’s gone. You stand still, stuck in place by her words. You’re relieved that you helped her, but you know part of you should be worried. You can’t seem to make yourself though, you’re elated, and want to jump around in joy. You had saved that little girl's life.

“You let her see you.” Katsuki says from behind you, and you turn to face him, but he's not looking at you. Standing on the porch, he’s looking back out at the fields and rubs his temples. Maybe he was mad.

“I wasn’t going to help, but when I heard her daughter was sick-”

“And what happens if she goes and tells everyone in the village that some random stranger healed her daughter… with some sort of magic? WHat do you think will happen then y/n?!” You were wrong, so wrong. Katsuki stands in front of you, absolutely livid, and for the first time since you've met him, you can’t read him.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think it through…” You conclude, embarrassed suddenly at your impulsive behaviour.

“What happens if they come here searching for you? They will try and burn you at the stake for being a witch y/n!” Katsuki yells, and you flinch.

“I’m sorry!” You shout back, letting your own frustration at his current attitude make itself known. “You’re right! I didn’t think. Instead, I heard that a little girl was sick, was dying, and I decided to help her. I’m sorry if that's too much for you, but that's not your decision to make Katsuki.”

“You’re damn right it is my decision! You’re my guardian angel, I cant fucking lose you.” Your breath catches at the slight tears building in the corner of his eyes as he points an accusing finger at you. “I can’t lose you y/n.” his anger suddenly drops until he stands there, arms limp by his sides, not daring to look at you. Hesitantly, you step towards him and gingerly reach out for one of his clenched fists. Your heart pounds inside your chest as you feel his warm hand in your own. You’d never really touched him before, not like this at least. Ahd as you drag his gaze to yours, you know that you’re breaking some major rules by doing what you’re about to do, but something also tells you that you had already broken the rule a long time ago. 

“Katsuki,” He finally looks into your eyes, and you find yourself struggling to find the words you want to say, but luckily he complete’s your thoughts by pressing his lips to yours. Sparks shoot down your spine as he threads his free hand into your hair, and every single cell in your body feels as if it has been set alight. This was wrong, on so many levels, but how could this be wrong when being this close to him felt like the most right thing in the entire world?

You clutch his dirt covered shirt in one hand and gently push away from the kiss, resting your forehead on his chest. 

“I can’t-” He grips your chin at your words and stares into your eyes. With so much conviction, Katsuki’s words thread into your heart, permanently scaring his name into your flesh. 

“I love you cherub. I don’t care what power I have to destroy to keep you, but I will do it. I’d bring down heaven just for you.” It was as if you had been waiting your entire life to hear those words, from him. 

“I am yours, Katsuki Bakugou. And you are mine.” You whisper up at him, delighting in how bright happiness shines in his irises. 

“Always.” 

“I love you, Katsuki.” And this time, you meet him halfway into the embrace, crushing your lips together, and letting him raise you in his arms, and carry you to his room. 

                         ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

You got four years together, full of happiness, half asleep smiles, starlight whispers and stolen kisses in the fields. 

Then the soldiers came knocking. 

You had hidden yourself without a second thought when there was a knock on the door of your house, and Katsuki had answered it with a calmness that left his body the second the door opened. The men practically shoved a piece of paper into your lovers hands and left, to leave you to deal with the consequences of their actions. 

“Katsuki?” Your voice seemed to bring him out of the stupor he was in, and had him turning to you with furrowed eyebrows. He read the paper once, then twice, before crumbling it between his fingers and throwing it into the fire. 

“What’s wrong?” but you knew. You knew they were taking him away again. 

“I’m being reinstated.” Was all he said before walking through the house and straight out the back door. 

“Katsuki!” You call out, quickly scrambling after him into the darkness. He stalks through the fields like a man on a mission, and you force your shorter legs to keep up with his pace. 

“Katsuki! Everything will be alright-”

“Alright?” He barks, turning around on you with anger flashing through his eyes. “What about this is alright Y/n? They’re making me leave everything to fight in a pointless war, leave you behind. What about that is alright?” His voice threatens to break, and you take advantage of his moment of stillness to move closer to him. 

“You’re right, nothing about this situation is alright. It’s a nightmare come to life, but its our reality.” You say, placing your hands on his cheek, causing Katsuki to close his eyes and lean into your touch. “I don’t want you to leave, but we both know…” Your voice breaks on the word, but you hold back the sob threatening to break free. “You have to go.” The tears building in your eyes break free and roll down your cheeks in a never ending wave, and no matter how many times Katsuki tries to rectify it by wiping them with his thumb, they don’t stop. 

“I don’t want you to go. I want us to stay here. I want to live here forever.” The words force themselves from you as the realisation that he’s leaving finally sinks in. He was going off to war, and there was a chance he would never come back. He could die. 

“I want to live here forever too.” He says, and you look up in slight shock. He was crying, and the only reason you could see the sight was due to the moonlight making them sparkle as they rolled down his cheeks. “I want to marry you, have children with you, fight with you, argue with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to love you here, forever. And when the day comes that we do pass on, I want to do that together too. But when I go, please do not follow me. Stay here, wait for me. Please.” You're sobbing by the time he’s finished, your heart breaks so fiercely that you fall to a heap on the floor, clutching each other so tightly as if it were the very last time. 

Katsuki Bakugou was made for you, and you were made for him. And nothing was going to keep either of you apart. 

The days moved quickly after that, each second spent in each other's presence, as if trying to engrave one another to your minds so you couldn’t go a second without thinking about each other. It would most definitely make parting harder, but you couldn’t care. After many arguments, you had eventually agreed to Katsuki’s request to not follow him to war, so instead you concocted a plan of your own. You would go back to headquarters, and you would ensure that you would never be parted from him again.

It was just a myth, or at least that's what you had once believed, but you now knew it was true. It had to be. Claiming your own soulmate was a big risk, and held a heavy price, but you knew you could do it. Because for Katsuki, for the life he mentioned for you both, for this life, you would do anything. 

                      ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The moment you had arrived back in headquarters, you knew something was wrong. But for the first time since ever here, you didn’t care about your job. You didn’t care about the taboo’s, you didn’t care about being a great guardian angel, you just wanted to be great for Katsuki. And you were going to make it happen. But other people had plans that outweighed your own. 

The moment you had stepped inside the library, your vision went hazy and your knees hit the floor, a dull pain throbbing inside your chest. What was going on. Your hazy vision finally focused again, and you found yourself standing in a room, surrounded by guardians residing on grandstands, and before you stood your brother and a silhouette of white light. But it was to your brother that you looked, and almost winced at the horror and disbelief in his eyes. 

“What have you done y/n?” He asked, his voice breaking on the last word. He looked at you like you had stabbed him in the back, and in a way, you had. You had broken the laws of your people for a man, you had betrayed your family for a human. But it was worth it. 

“Y/n, you have been accused of breaking the laws of guardianship with your client. How do you plead.” Said one of the three guardians on the stand behind your brother. You were on trial, you realised. One that you knew would end in your life either being taken, or being banished. You hoped for the latter, that you could deal with. 

“Guilty. As are you.” Your words cause whispers to erupt within the crowd and you turn to the figure of light and glare. 

“You say you create us in the image of yourself, to help humans, to guide them. But by doing so you have made us slaves to your course. We will never know true emotions, we will not experience life, we do not experience love.” Tears are streaming down your cheeks, but you don't care. Let them see the true span of emotions that they never get to experience. Let your words cut them deep. 

“You plead guilty to the charges of breaking lawful conduct with your client Katsuki Bakugou. For this crime, you will be punished with eternal banishment-” Another guardian announces to the room. 

“You can try to take from him, but you will not succeed.” Your yell silences the room, even the slightest whisper quiets at the sound. “My life is his, and his is mine. Until light fades and darkness dies, I will be his and he will be mine.” The words roll off your tongue as if they were made just for you, and for a second you see the silhouette of light flicker, before a sharp pain physically pushes you to the floor. You scream out as your chest burns, as if someone had fisted your heart and set it alight.

There is a moment that you truly believe the pain will kill you, that it will overcome your body and burn you to ash, but as quickly as it appears, the pain dissipates, leaving a thread behind, a thread that throbs harshly inside your chest. A thread that you knew if you followed, would tie you to the love of your life. Holy shit you did it.

“What have you done?!”

“She just bought herself a soulmate,” it's your brother's voice, but you can barely hear him over the sound of your blood pumping through your ears. You raise a hand to your chest as something pulls, feeling as if it tugged upon a rib, and then you're met with such grief it forces your hands to the floor. What was happening? There's a hand at your chin and you look up into the light silhouette and want to cry out at the projection it shows. 

Bakugou lays on the ground, lifeless, covered in dirt. Blood gushes from under him and you let out a howl of a scream. 

“You took something that was not for you,” was the last thing you heard before you collapsed onto the floor and everything went black.

Please not him, not Katsuki. 

                      +   +   +   +   

With a sharp breath, you open your eyes, and fall to the floor as tears stream down your cheeks. The past hits you over and over again, forcing sob after sob from your mouth, as you clutch the surface beneath your hands, trying to ground yourself, but to little effect. 

By the time you have calmed somewhat, your body is completely numb, your brain a cloud of fog continuously rolling in and never dissipating. 

“Was this the price for tying my life to his?”  you ask, knowing that the silhouette of light stil resided in front of you, but you didn’t dare to look up at it. 

“You cannot simply buy a soulmate, or tie your lifeline to his. You are immortal. Forever roaming, never planting your feet purely on the ground.” You clutch your chest, feeling the tether as if it were a string tugging on one of your ribs. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go… You turn around and look at the person, the man or woman you can’t tell, it's just a silhouette of blinding light, yet it doesn’t hurt the eyes.

“You mean to say…”

“Yes, you are immortal y/n. You will never die.” and then the being is gone, but his words never leave your mind. 

Because it was right. You don’t die.

For years, you watch the world recover and move on, being unnoticed by all, forever to roam aimlessly as you witness everyone you love grow older.

It's a blessing and a curse, watching your friends all graduate, to grow into their full potential and become the heroes you always knew they would be. But what is hardest is watching Bakugou grow old.

You watch him become the number one hero, you watch him how he regresses and cuts people out of his life in his twenties, and are relieved when his friends help to pull him out of it. You are with him every day, hanging around his apartment, following him on missions, your wings allowing you to keep up with him as he moves quickly. It’s a blessing, even though he doesn’t know you’re there to witness every breakdown, every hardship, but also every success. 

It's a blessing until one day, he meets a woman with a smile like sunshine that stops him in his tracks. You find yourself screaming into the silence, at nothing, trying to do anything to get him to notice you. To remember you. To not forget you, or the previous life that you two once shared.

But this was your punishment, you had bought yourself a human soulmate, one that couldn’t feel the bond as you did, and would most likely never know you existed. 

You watch him date, you watch him have a child, but he never marries the sunshine woman. Instead, she passes away in a freak car accident when the child is barely a few months old. You feel the second she passes the moment it happens, and suddenly she’s in the apartment with you, watching Bakugou try to calm his daughter with no avail. With a sad smile, she turns to you and you’re so shocked you only gape at her. She’s the first person to see you in twenty years. 

“He speaks of you all the time.” She says, looking back at her family once more. “I knew I would always be second in his heart to you, and I was okay with that. I am. He never got over you, and I don’t think he ever will. But he was right, you’re watching over him,” this time she turns her eyes back to you, and wipes the tears from her cheeks. 

“Take care of them, please?” You only get the chance to nod before she's gone. 

Time moves faster it seems towards the latter part of life. You get to watch Katsuki’s daughter grow, and watch him struggle to balance hero work with being an only parent. But your friends Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero step in to help out their little angel, as they call her. The name makes you want to cry every time. 

You watch Katsuki Bakugou live his life to the fullest, you watch him be a phenomenal father, you watch him get injured, and beat villains. You watch him and your friends grow old without you, until you’ve said your final goodbyes to them all, until it's just Katsuki, surrounded by his loved ones on a hospital bed,  grey haired and tanned skin wrinkles from his retirement days spent out in the sunshine. You see his final goodbyes, and you watch that black aura completely leave his body, and then for the first time, you visibly see that tether. 

A string of golden light, the same shade as the one emitted from your hands a lifetime ago when healing a little girl. A bond that stretches across space and time, permanently tying you to the no young ash blonde standing in front of you. He looks the exact same as he did the day you lost him. Katsuki looks down at his hands before looking at you as the world around you begins to dull. 

“Y/n?” You smile at him, letting tears roll down your cheeks as you run to him. “Y/n!” A cry leaves your mouth as you hear him say your name, it had been so long since you’d heard it.

You stop just before him, and hesitantly reach out. You hadn’t felt another touch in a lifetime, and to see him now, to have him here, it seemed too good to be true. However any doubt you carry isn’t held in Katuski, who quickly pulls you into him, a strangled noise coming from his mouth as he directs his lips to yours. You cry against him as you feel his warm touch beneath your fingers, and you know this is real. He’s here.

“Cherub,” he whispers into your hair, and you bury your face into his chest, gripping his back tightly enough to hurt, but he doesn’t say a word. Tilting your chin with a hand, you find yourself looking into the same red vermillion eyes that existed in another time, another dimension, a pair that loved you just as much as they did now. 

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t-- I couldn’t save you before.” Words bubble out of you before you can stop them. There are so many things you want to say, but not enough time. Because you know that this won’t last forever. 

“Cherub, I’m glad you weren’t there. But you sacrificing yourself for me is another thing because I-” his voice breaks on the word. “I missed you so much Y/n, every fucking day. I wanted to die without you…”

“I made sure you wouldn’t,” your words make him rear back slightly and look down at you again.  “I made a deal, that if you died I would die too, because that would mean I failed my job as your guardian. I made you my soulmate.”

“What was the price?”

“I don’t know.” You say in reply, but now, you think you have the vaguest idea. You bought yourself a soulmate, something that shouldn’t really exist, so now, you would have to wait until the universe decided you had paid enough time until you can reap what you took. 

“How are you here? Did I…” Katsuki finally asks, looking around at the world still moving on without him, but his embrace doesn’t loosen around you for a moment. As if he too is too afraid to let you go. 

“You’re ready to pass on,”

“What about you?” You blink at him and hold onto his biceps. “When I tied myself to you, it was something deeper than I expected, I bought myself a soul to match mine, and I have to pay the consequences from such actions.” an archway opens in front of you both catching your attention, and you shift your gaze from it to your soulmate. You place your hands on his cheeks bringing his scared eyes to yours once more.

“You won’t remember me in your next life,” Katsuki instantly utters a complaint but you shut him up with a hand. “I will be with you, always. I will protect you until my dying breath, and that's all I can do until I pay back for what I took.” Fresh tears well in his eyes as you both feel the pending goodbye begin to loom over you. Your time was coming to an end. 

“How long?” He asks, pressing his forehead to yours and taking in everything about your face whilst he still can. 

“I don’t know, but a few more lifetimes.”

“So I’m just meant to forget you?” He cries, his voice hoarse from crying, and clutches your cheeks tightly. 

“I- I don’t want to. I love you, I never stopped.”

“I know you did, and not a second has gone by that I haven’t loved you with every fibre of my being. But please try and be happy, at least until I get there.” You say, giving him a final soft smile, but as much as you try to portray confidence, the tears of sadness flooding your face you know do the complete opposite. You’ve been so lonely without him, and now, you’re about to lose him all over again. 

“How am I meant to be happy when you’re taking the source of my happiness with you?” He whispers brokenly, and your heart clenches painfully inside your chest. 

“I will always come back to you Katsuki.” The light from the archway begins to glow brighter and brighter, becoming too bright to look at, so instead, you focus on your soulmate and kiss him one final time, putting everything you had into the embrace, and Katsuki returns it tenfold. When you finally pull from him once more, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his. 

“I will find you again, nothing will keep me from you cherub.” 

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[comeandreadawhile]

Au: Boba gets adopted

Obi-Wan had several things that need attending to as he trudged along the innards of a Geonosian arena—his injured leg, the unsettlingly cryptic news of a Sith Lord being in control of the Senate, and whatever unhealthy attachment seems to have settled in his padawan for a certain senator in the time he’d been with her for starters—before reaching an archway that led once more into the partially enclosed bloodbath. There, among the devastating loss of some 200 Jedi knights and masters, among the clean up crew and those bagging bodies for transport to Coruscant, was a little boy kneeling in the rust red sand and clutching his father’s helmet like a lifeline.

Obi-Wan Kenobi found his list of things to attend to had a new and vastly more pressing priority.

He tried not to be an impulsive man, something he had tried to instill in Anakin with only moderate success. He tried. But the Jedi were known as protectors and peacekeepers, and no one was paying a bit of mind to the grieving child. A grieving orphan who knew no one but the older (younger?) brothers firmly ignoring him and one separatist-aligned and already-fled Count. Obi-Wan changed his direction and made no answer when Anakin asked where he was going.

He approached the boy quietly, but with his injury and the crunching sand, there was plenty of noise for the little one not to be spooked. He didn’t get too close, merely letting himself be known in the boy’s peripheral vision before moving to sit in the sand—something his leg greatly protested—a few feet away. He didn’t speak, perfectly content to wait to be openly acknowledged while the boy failed to hide his sobbing. He didn’t have to wait long.

“What do you want, Jedi?” The child spat, his voice thick and choked with tears. Obi-Wan could tell he wasn’t looking for condolences or pretty words, so honesty was probably his best course.

“You don’t need to be alone right now,” he started. “I’ll leave if you truly wish but you need someone right now.”

The boy scoffed and held, if possible, tighter to the silver helm. “How would you know what I need? Just leave me alone!” The bite in his voice cracked at the end.

“Because I’ve been exactly where you are,” Obi-Wan almost flinched at the cliche. The child clearly felt the same.

“Sure you were. Of course you were,” came the bitter words the young Fett had every right to. “Because every other guy’s dad is—was k—” He choked once more as tears drowned out the mournful retort.

Obi-Wan extended a hand and continued somberly. “I saw my Master killed by a Sith’s lightsaber, and I spent so long hating myself for being powerless to help him.” The boy had bit his lip, shaking as Obi-Wan watched him sob. “Being alone with that kind of grief was a terrible thing, something I would never wish on you or anyone.” He was content once more to let the boy grieve in peace, merely offering his company and the hand he kept extended upon the red sand between them. He could feel Anakin lingering in the alcove he’d parted with him in, confusion and apprehension rolling off him steadily in the Force; he should’ve been seeing a medic about that arm of his. An idea that had been forming in his head was finally matched with words. As the boy’s cries slowly turned in wet hiccups, Obi-Wan scooted a little closer—and his leg still was unhappy about it—and the boy turned his gaze, tearful and suspicious, back on him. Obi-Wan spoke gently.

“Copanni olaror ti ni?”

The boy’s tear-streaked face snapped up at the words. “Tion gar lise jorhaa’ir Mando’a?”

He nodded, answering softly, “We can speak in whichever you prefer. You didn’t answer my question.” Mando’a would offer familiarity, but that familiarity could also be painful at present. Based on the scrunched face the child made, Obi-Wan accepted it was probably the latter. He watched the little one drop his head to rest his cheek against the helmet. Taun We had said the boy’s name, but Obi-Wan found himself struggling to remember it through the rush of the last cycle’s events.

“I can take care of myself,” the boy answered quietly. “Dad taught me how.”

Obi-Wan nodded, not terribly surprised. “I’m sure he did a fine job, but he couldn’t have wished for you to have the need so young. I’m sure he’d want you looked after.”

The little one sniffled pitifully and nodded, and some minutes passed as Obi-Wan watched the cogs turn in the child’s head. Then, unsure and still shaky, a little hand moved to grasp the one still extended between them. Obi-Wan squeezed the little fingers gently before moving carefully to stand. The other arm opened as he turned, and the boy stood, still clutching the helmet, and allowed himself to be scooped up. Obi-Wan kept most of the boy’s weight directed to the hip of his uninjured leg, noticed how the little one’s body sagged against his own once he was settled, and began a course back to his padawan. He pressed the boy’s head under his chin, allowing him to hide in the hollow of Obi-Wan’s throat.

“I’ll do my best to look after you,” he promised. He would—he knew plenty enough about Mandalore and her people to get this child through his trial of adulthood when he reached thirteen, and enough about his own trauma to never assume the boy was alright. “If you aren’t happy with me, I’ll do my best to get you somewhere you are.” They boy only sniffled and nodded in response, but that was more than enough right now. A moment, and several steps, passed. “Taun We introduced us but could I ask your name again, little one?”

A croaked reply fell against his collarbone, “Boba.”

Obi-Wan nodded once more and brought the hand not supporting Boba’s weight to the back of the boy’s head, “Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad, Boba.” To this, the hand gripping his shirt clenched and Boba nodded into his throat, and if his collar was soon wet with fresh tears, Obi-Wan made no mention of it.

He walked the both of them back to Anakin and Senator Amidala as quickly as his leg and Boba’s added weight allowed him, and together they made for the ship. Anakin, blessedly, didn’t ask about the child in his arms until they were aboard the ship they’d be taking to Coruscant, once Boba was wrapped in a shock blanket and assured, when Obi-Wan put him down and made to leave to get something, that Obi-Wan wouldn’t be far for long.

“Master, the boy?”

“The bounty hunter’s son,” he provided. He didn’t stop on his path out of the ship—they wouldn’t be taking off quite yet but he felt no need to dawdle. “Your new little brother.” Anakin looked like he’d been struck.

“A new apprentice? You’re replacing me for disobeying you?”

That stopped him very effectively. He turned as he spoke. “You listen to me now if never again, Anakin Skywalker,” he began lowly. He would not let the boy he raised go on with the same doubts he’d had with Qui-Gon. “I will never replace you. You are mine to me, if I was ever a father to you.” Anakin had grown taller than him just in the last year, but Obi-Wan had no qualms about putting a palm on the back of his padawan’s neck to ground him. “But that boy just lost his only family, and he needs someone.” Anakin nodded solemnly. The boy understanding, Obi-Wan lightened his tone. “Which means that I now have one padawan, and two sons. Unfortunately, you’ll have to learn to share.” He finished with a grin.

Anakin huffed out a laugh and nodded again, smiling. “I understand, Master, thank you.” As Obi-Wan gave his neck a pat and moved once move to exit the ship, Anakin inquired after him, “Where are you going?”

Obi-Wan merely called back over his shoulder, “I have to retrieve something before we leave.” Something that neither boy needed to see at that moment, but Boba was sure to treasure in years to come—it would certainly fit when he stopped growing. So onward Obi-Wan moved, making his way back into the dreaded arena, speaking to exactly the people he needed to for certain arrangements before moving on to find his quarry. And he would.

Every piece of Jango Fett’s armor.

A look at next chapter:

“Are we not honor bound to help those in need?”

“You know that this goes against our code!”

“A Jedi of this Order killed his father, so a Jedi of this Order will raise him in his father’s place.”

[whatiwillsay]

kaylor oomfs avert your eyes 😞

i get asked from time to time “why don’t you like kaylor, why don’t you like karlie, why do you think kaylor isn’t together? why aren’t you and ttb married yet?” and i think it’s high time i centralize my thoughts and receipts on all of that in a little timeline of shady things karlie has done to taylor that have made me wary of kaylor/karlie/that whole situation.  don’t read if you stan kaylor this isn’t for you (unless you know you’re interested in the truth.)

first things first, i do think something romantic happened between kaylor go read @swiftiesleuth‘s realistic kay timeline for what i (generally) think happened between them.

but long story short - i think joshlie is real, i think they weren’t all that serious at the beginning, she famously didn’t meet his family for years, he didn’t take her to work events for a long time, so there’s room for her to have a fling with taylor even though we ended up with a real joshlie endgame.

taylor’s music and art supports this theory - in the wd mv she paints herself as the other woman, on rep she sings of secret sexy sex with her best friend that drives her crazy, in cruel summer she sings of a miserable, secret, and toxic situation with a person who rejects her love, in illicit affairs and august again she is the other woman - the art matches up.  she also sings about her sunshine being gone on lover, and eclipsed on folklore. we have good clues in taylor’s artistic expression.

taylor’s given interviews about some of these karlie songs - she said cruel summer was about the start to a “doomed” relationship and look at what she said about august:

“It kind of explores the idea of the undefined relationship. As humans, we're all encouraged to just be cool and just let it happen, and don't ask what the relationship is — Are we exclusive? But if you are chill about it, especially when you're young, you learn the very hard lesson that if you don't define something, oftentimes they can gaslight you into thinking it was nothing at all, and that it never happened. And how do you mourn the loss of something once it ends, if you're being made to believe that it never happened at all?”

if joshlie is real which i think they are that 100% sounds like taylor having to process being gaslit by karlie while she cheats on josh with her.

so why do i think joshlie is real?

-  josh has no credible gay rumors that didn’t originate on gaylor tumblr: he has old ex gfs that came before karlie, harvard message boards gossiped about him and didn’t like him but never said that he was gay, in fact one of the complaints josh’s schoolmates had about him was that he got special treatment for her girlfriend at parties.

-  as stated before taylor’s art suggests she’s been the other woman with someone in her life recently.  if josh and karlie are beards then what is the affair? why is taylor the other woman so often all of a sudden?

-  i’ve spoken to someone with a mutual friend with the kushners - grain of salt of course, i know you can only trust stuff you hear from me with no proof so much, but i do absolutely trust this person and they say - no way in hell is joshlie fake, no way in hell is josh gay, no way in hell is karlie having taylor’s baby.  also karlie absolutely has moved down to miami with josh.  i’m sure we’ll see her in nyc and la from time to time but she is living in miami now.

-  vicky ward, who is a real investigative journalist not some unhinged person on tumblr, wrote a tell all about the kushners.  she uncovered gay rumors about josh’s father and josh’s brother but not josh.  she had actual sources and was legitimately digging up tons of dirt on these people and not a word about josh being gay or joshlie being fake.

-  yes karlie did convert to judaism.  it’s really offensive to suggest she didn’t.  of course she always could have done it for personal reasons but occam’s razor dictates she did it for josh i don’t know what else to tell you 🤷‍♀️

-  also just vibes.  karlie writes him love notes and leaves them with his breakfast.  they make playlists for one another.  if the kushners weren’t so heinous they’d be cute.

so in the joshlie is real world view i inhabit, i don’t stan kaylor the same way i do swiftgron because i don’t think kaylor was ever a committed monogamous relationship.  important and impactful on taylor’s life? absolutely.  inspired some amazing music? 100%. but was is true and tragic love that drives me insane and makes me feral?  no.  i don’t believe so.  is it still an interesting and iconic ship? yes!  but i don’t stan because it wasn’t like...true love or gay shit like that.

so let’s talk about karlie’s screwups that 1. assure me kaylor is not together and 2. make me have no desire to stan karlie/kaylor.

1.  after the kimye drama (something that deeply traumatized taylor we now know thanks to miss americana) karlie said she was sure kim was a lovely person 😭 now i know she walked it back and tweeted she and taylor had one another’s backs. i know karlie was just trying to be diplomatic.  but come on...if someone did what kim did to taylor to my lover or hell even just my friend i would say “fuck that clout chasing fame whore” bottom line.  c’mon guys.  have higher standards for your otp.

karlie also has vibed with kim on IG about her adidasas line.  recently!  yes i know she’s just promoting her brand but c’mon.  taylor still hates kim, their drama got rehashed in march 2020 and just 6 months later kim n karlie are bestie-ing around on ig.

2.  ALL the fucking masters drama and scooter fucking braun

-  not long at all after the masters heist karlie was palling around with scooter on a yacht like come on the only other thing taylor is equally as traumatized over as the kimye drama is the master’s heist.  why is karlie hanging out with him and partying with him at this time?

-  karlie liked a tweet completely incinerating taylor (in a gross and unfair/inaccurate way) regarding the masters heist.  she unliked it but still.  why was she even looking at that shit.

-  and yeah we gotta talk about perez.  so perez hilton (who is a scumbag and gross but sometimes does have legitimate tea) posted a video saying that karlie and taylor were no longer friends because karlie betrayed taylor to scooter.  now if that were all there was to it, it’d be dumb gossip.  but a taylor fan account posted the video to twitter ashley avignone and claire winter both liked the tweet.  ashley liked two tweets about it.  perez proceeded to tweet that since two of taylor’s oldest and truest friends liked the tweets it must mean he was correct and neither of the girls unliked the tweets.  ashley and claire are low key people, not celebs, not pawns in a “fued narrative”, just long time and loyal friends of taylor’s.  they liked the tweet, imo, because there’s some truth to it.

-  that brings me to spencer pratt.  spencer is a reality star and super swiftie/huge fan of taylor’s.  he despises karlie.  he’s tweeted negatively about her and he also had perez onto his podcast to talk about the drama between karlie and taylor.  taylor herself sent him a cardigan.  do you really think taylor is going to allow a cardigan to go out to the guy who’s dragging her girlfriend or bestie? i don’t think so.  receipts on perez and spencer here.

3.  karlie posted for hailey fucking beiber’s bday instead of taylor’s and hailey hates taylor 🤢🤢🤢

4.  karlie married into a fascist family that is associated with the trumps.  like how can you expect me to stan?  trump is a fucking criminal evil piece of shit.  i know karlie isn’t like him (probably) but it’s still awful.  kimby even goes around liking ivanka’s ig posts like give me a fucking break 😭.

in summation, you can disagree w me all you like, you can ship kaylor all you like, but if you’re of sound mind i don’t think you can look at the facts in this post and think i’m misguided for not being a kaylor/karlie stan.  and you can’t blame me for thinking if you spend a lot of time obsessing over that ship you may not really be that big a fan of taylor’s.  and if you’re spending a lot of time leading lgbt kids on to think they’re going to get a kaylor end game when all the objective facts of the case suggest that that’s never going to happen you might need to reevaluate but at the very least you certainly can’t press me for not doing all that.

[itsclydebitches]

Some of my friends in the RWBY FNDM actually said people don’t forgive their friends for betraying them (Jaune killing Penny) but will forgive strangers betraying them (Em killing Penny). Uh…NO. Being close and attached to someone leads to bias. People are more willing to see someone they don’t know as evil for hurting them BECAUSE THEY DON’T KNOW THAT PERSON. They said this as an excuse to why RWBY will be pissed at Jaune. NOPE! (1/2)

I think it can go either way depending on the person, or in this case the character. People aren't so uniform that they'll have a single, predictable response to someone's actions depending on whether they're in the "friend" or "stranger" category, to say nothing of the complexities of figuring out when one moves from one category to the other. (Is Ozpin the beloved and respected headmaster they look up to, or a virtual stranger whose age and power makes him someone the group never would have seriously connected with? The fandom is divided.) But that connection (or lack thereof) can go in either direction. It might make it easier to forgive them, or it might make it seemingly impossible. I've been replaying Witcher's Blood & Wine where Anna Henrietta is so relieved to have her sister back that she's blind to the horrors she's committed - love make forgiveness an inevitability. I'm also rewatching Criminal Minds where Reid is furious with JJ for keeping Prentiss' secret from him, specifically because they're so close and JJ was the one to comfort him over Prentiss' "death" - love makes forgiveness that much harder. And it's the same with strangers. If someone you're less close to commits a horrible act, you might respond with pure disgust because who are they to you? Nobody. They're defined only by that one action. Or, their distance might make it easier to forgive them once you have gotten to know them a bit, simply because the action didn't, at the time, feel personal. You know the version of them now, the one that "counts," the one you're emotionally attached to. I don't think it's an either/or situation here, where there's a correct answer of "Yes characters will get angry if they're close to the person in question" or "No characters will be less angry if they're close to them." It depends on the individual, the action, the circumstances, the state of mind of the person trying to grant forgiveness, and a hundred other, smaller factors. If Yang did something horrible, would Blake be less willing to forgive her because they're so close, or more willing because they are? That depends on a whole range of things from "What exactly did Yang do?" to "Has Blake eaten and slept and generally not been stressed out of her mind lately, making her less likely to lash out?" It, to be blunt, comes down to good, nuanced writing.

Which is why the Jaune situation is... complicated. And sadly, RWBY doesn't do well with complicated. Free of the rest of Volume 8, my mind says the group has to be mad. How can they not? Even if Jaune had a 100% solid reason for killing Penny with no possible way to blame him - which, let's be frank, he doesn't. The guy has a healing semblance and just took her word that it was useless - it's not in our nature to approach a tragedy with that level of logical maturity (especially not after the crazy level of trauma that's been going on: Salem, battles, falling to their "deaths."). You don't have a friend admit they killed another friend and immediately go, "Oh yeah. Makes sense. Had to be done. No worries!" and move on with your life. You at least start with some anger, whether it's rational or not, deserved or not. People harbor anger over deaths that we know, realistically, are not the fault of another person involved, we resent people who survived over others even though we know they had no control over it, and we even hate ourselves for hating that person, because we know it's not fair and we're feeling it anyway. If we have all that complexity tied up in deaths that are unambiguously not the fault of the person in question... what do you do with the guy who straight up agreed to an assisted suicide? Gave up on healing or retreat? Was the one to drag his sword across Penny's throat? The fandom recognized that scene as something intensely complicated, made worse by ineffectual writing. We knew, the second it had finished, that Jaune was not an easily categorized innocent here who should be treated solely as a victim of horrible circumstances. There's a very good reason why the fandom went, "What the fuck, Jaune" because this entire situation is so. messed. up. I'm not saying all this to paint Jaune as some irredeemable monster or anything, but rather to highlight that there should be a huge range of emotions coming off of this action. Whether we the audience or the characters decide what he did was the right thing or not, Jaune's actions are still objectively horrifying. He killed Penny. Was it necessary? Given RWBY's shoddy writing, idk, but that's not the point for an initial reaction. The point is, "How would you respond if you found out Friend A helped Friend B commit suicide, right after you'd worked so hard to keep Friend B alive, after she'd already come back from the dead?" The answer should be, "Uh, not well. Not well at all."

But this is RWBY. There should have been a range of emotions to Jinn's vision in Volume 6, but there wasn't. There should have been a range of emotions to Penny's resurrection, but there wasn't. There should have been a more persuasive reason for Jaune to kill Penny, a better job of stripping away other options, but there wasn't. Arguably, Penny shouldn't have died at all, not after being brought back, getting the Maiden powers, being made human... but she was. This situation is already a mess but then, as you say, anon, we have Emerald on top of it all. I mentioned above that it's "Free of the rest of Volume 8" that the group should be mad at Jaune, but obviously that's not how the story goes. I can't separate Emerald from the rest of this and yeah, it looks ridiculous for the group to have a long arc of hating Jaune after they forgave Emerald in, what? An hour? We can talk about that context all we want, but at the end of the day, Emerald's actions were too horrific to shrug off as they were and Jaune's action is also too horrific to shrug off. RWBY has, once again, backed itself into a corner. What the story actually needed was for Emerald to get a full redemption arc, allowing the group to process, grapple with, and learn to forgive her past actions through apologies and new actions to demonstrate growth, so that they could then later do a modified version of that with Jaune, one tailored to his character, their characters, and this new situation. The story needs the group to be mad at both of them because both did things that would generate different types of anger. But because Emerald was granted laughter almost immediately upon arriving at the mansion, yeah, it would read as absurd for the group to go through a whole arc of learning how to forgive Jaune... even though Jaune's actions arguably do need some kind of forgiveness arc. The situation is screwed either way. If the group forgives him quickly it's, "Really? He killed Penny and that's it? No one is going to struggle with that? That's absurd!" and if the group doesn't quickly forgive him it's, "Really? You'll insta-forgive the woman who has been trying to kill you for years, but won't grant the same thing to your friend who only took that action with good intentions? That's absurd!" And if the focus is on Jaune being mad at himself, we're right back to where we were in Volume 4: Jaune mourning a redhead in his life and getting too much focus. I really don't think there's a good solution here, which (as my more recent posts speak to), we're seeing more and more as the series goes on. The more material we get and the more shoddily that material is written, the more we're going to see future situations where we go, "I don't like any of the writing options here, because of something that happened in a previous volume." RWBY has created a situation where the group very much deserves to be angry - or at the very least conflicted - over Jaune's actions, but because it's following on the heels of Hazel, Emerald, and their own horrific choices across Volume 7 and 8, any anger will feel hollow, hypocritical. But isn't that what we're left with? We've been here since the beginning of Volume 7 when Ruby repeated Ozpin's secrets and the story never acknowledged that either she's as bad as he is, or he's not as bad as they believed. We've been watching a show built on that hollow hypocrisy for at least two years (longer, really) and it's just getting worse the more the story introduces sensitive material and then doesn't appropriately follow up on it.

[skylarmoon71]

E2 Harrison Wells x Reader- Oneshot (Flash)

"Listen to me, you don't have to do this. You aren't a killer. "

You just closed your fist, eyes dark with hatred. The more you squeezed, the harder it was for the criminal in front of you to breathe. Barry took a step forward and you raised your free hand.

"I don't want to hurt you Barry, but I will if I have to. BACK OFF!"

"No! I'm not gonna stand here and watch you throw your life away. I know what it's like (Y/N), to resent someone to the point that you're willing to risk it all." your hands faltered for a second, and the man on the floor groaned. Your lips were quivering.

"H-He killed him Barry..for a stupid watch and some cash. "

"I know, and I'm so sorry (Y/N). " Bit by bit he was inching closer, and you could feel your anger dissipating slowly. You should have known that Barry would be the one to figure it out. After losing your boyfriend to a mugger, you dedicated your life to tracking his killer. 

You worked under Joe at CCPD. You were just an officer. A close call with a meta one night when you were working with Joe had led to the discovery of your own abilities. Shortly after he introduced you to the team. Even with your loss, you felt like you were slowly but surely getting your life back together. Then you heard of another robbery. Similar MO, except this time the individual survived. They were able to identify the perp. It could have been an impulse, but you tracked him down. Took you hours.

Standing in his beat down apartment, all you wanted to do was inflict as much pain as you could. You just wanted the hole that he left in your chest to disappear.

"Please (Y/N)." Barry's eyes were pleading. You finally lowered your hands, and the male being pinned gasped, coughing. Barry moved forward, pulling you into his arms and you stood there, gripping onto his shirt as you bawled your eyes out.

~~~~~

"You saved a lot of people. He's been on the run for weeks. Hurt a lot of innocent people too. Good job kd." You can't even look Joe in the eyes. You keep your head down nodding and he pats your shoulder. This entire situation could have gone completely sideways. All you can do is watch as they take the handcuffed man away. You're standing next to Barry who's doing his best to keep you grounded. As Joe leaves, you look over at Barry. "Thank you." you whisper. If he hadn't brought you from over the edge, it could have been you walking away in cuffs.

Barry knows that no amount of sympathetic words can help, so he just offers a hug. "Anytime (Y/N)."

~One Year Later~

"Guys I could really use a hand here!!" The meta currently trying to break past your barrier was a little more than you could handle at the moment. Between fighting past his metal armor and trying not to become like the unconscious officers around you, it was a struggle. With gritted teeth, you push harder, but he's fighting through pain. Being able to control liquid elements was a nice ability, but for this iron head, it may not have been enough. You were manipulating his water components, but it was just barely holding him off. A normal person would have been out cold by now.

"B-Barry!" On cue he zips by. The meta looks down at the cuffs on his wrist. You grin, because he no longer has the metal to shield him. With a flick of your wrist, his body is thrown back, hitting the wall.

"You know he was bound right." Barry says. You just shrugged. "I know." He shakes his head with a laugh, calling in Joe to round up some reinforcements. Finally, you can relax.

"What took you so long?"

"Well Harry and Cisco were-" you wave your hands.

"Don't bother, I can already guess. " Those two never quit.

"Next time just ignore them." you state walking away.

"Will do!!"

~~~~

"The next time you dipsticks decide to have a fight don't forget their actual people out there that don't wanna get crushed by a psycho metahuman." Cisco and Harry stood still as you basically ripped into them. Most of the time you could care less, but Barry could tell that something about this case must have really agitated you. Storming out the cortex, Barry's eyes followed you. He hadn't seen that look on your face since, well since you lost Calvin.

"Did she seem off to you?" Cisco inquired.

Barry was still zoned out.

"Just give her some time." Barry advised. He wanted nothing more than to help you, but he could tell that right now all you really needed was some space.

~~~~~

Later that afternoon Caitlin and Iris invited you to a well deserved girls night. Fighting metas as well as dealing with regular criminals took a pretty heavy toll on you. So of course you accepted. Knocking on the door, Iris rushed to open the door. The moment she saw your face she was grinning. You barely had time to greet her before she was tugging you inside. You laugh at her excitement. 

"Someone's ready to party." kicking off your shoes, you raised your head. You didn't expect to see the many faces that filled the room. "Uhhhh.." you were positive she'd said girls night over the phone, so why was Cisco, Harry, Joe and Barry here.

"Sorry we set you up, it was Barry's idea.' Iris apologized with a smile.

"Hey!" you can't really be mad. You step forward, and Barry is the first to hug you. Not anticipating it, you pat his back awkwardly. "Y-You okay there Barry?" He's acting a little strange. When he pulls away, all he does is smile, patting your shoulder. "Yeah I'm just...really glad that you're in our lives."

He's certainly being weird, nevertheless, you appreciate his words.

"That's sweet Barry, thank you." He nods.

"Alright let's get this party started!!" Cisco cheers. He's never one to pass up getting drunk.

"I'll make sure Ramon doesn't pass out on your couch Allen." With the both of them you know it's only a matter of time before the bickering begins, and it's sort of comforting.

For the night you all talk, drink and exchange stories. Harry gives some moments where he's had to scare away Jessie's potential boyfriends. Joe states the same when Iris had started high school. You're dying of laughter at one point when he says he flashed his gun to intimidate one of them. The night carries on. Somewhere along the line, you've slipped out to the balcony. You enjoy the company, but right at this moment, you need to be alone. You lean over, eyes staring up at the sky. 

The facade you've been keeping up all day has fallen, and you allow the tears to flow freely. You sniff a couple times. When you hear the door behind you slide close you straighten, wiping at your eyes frantically. 

"I-It's pretty chilly outside. Kind of makes your eyes water. The man standing there, it's not who you'd assume. Harry just watches you for a moment, and you're convinced he can see right through you.

"W-Well I should get inside before they start to worry." you try to bolt.

"Who did you lose?" Then he asks that question. You haven't even fully made it to the door yet, and you're lucky for the curtains that block the view on the other side of the door.

"I've been watching you all night. This morning Ramon was concerned you were acting unusual. I brushed it off, but seeing you tonight confirmed everything. The smiles don't truly reach your eyes. "

You have half a mind to tell him that it's none of his business. Who the hell did he even think he was, profiling you like some kind of criminal. Harry takes another step, and when he looks down, your barrier crumbles instantly. With a shaky hand to your lips, you lean your back against the wall. His eyes convey sympathy, and he takes your hand softly. You sob, and Harry slowly pulls you into his arms. You hold unto him, breaking down right there. It's been such a struggle carrying on all day. Harry is the absolute last person you ever would even think could provide comfort, but you're grateful.

~~~~~~

It takes a while for you to calm down, at one point Barry even comes searching, upon seeing you chatting with Harry, he closes the curtains with a smile. The both of you just sit in silence. You've pulled out a chair, and Harry is right beside you. He doesn't press for any kind of information. You kind of like this.

"His name was Calvin."

Azure eyes move in your direction.

"We were together for three years." You place a hand on your chest, and Harry watches as you reach under the neck of your shirt, pulling out a necklace. There's a ring attached to it. A beautiful diamond right at the center. "The night he was.." your throat tightens. 

"The night I lost him, he was going to propose. They recovered all the items that were stolen from the guy's apartment. Calvin bought it a year before. He was making down payments to afford it. " Your hands grip the ring, and you can feel the tears about to spill again. You swallowed, looking over at Harry. 

"I-I'm really sorry that I yelled at you guys today. I-I was just.."

"You don't have to explain. " He was starting to get the bigger picture. Today was important to you. This is what was needed for you to mourn. He understood, more than you realized. You knew about his past, and now he knows about yours.

"How long does it take for this feeling to go away?"

He wished he could give you an easy answer, but he was the last person to ask about dealing with loss. Tess was the most stable and treasured thing in his life. Then he lost her, shortly after that he almost watched his only daughter get killed. Safe to say he was the worst at trying to move on.

"It never really goes away." he knows that isn't the answer you want.

"But it will get better (Y/N). You have people here that care about you. Family."

They were the reason he no longer looked at the world at people as if they were expendable.

"You'll be fine." He takes your hand when he says it, and the confidence of his assurance. It's exactly what you need.

"Thank you, Harrison."

A brilliant smile.

"You're welcome."

[mostgeckcellent]

my submission for the @drinkwithme-exchange for @fuckyeahlesmiserables

I originally wrote something completely different, and I didn't like it at all, but you mentioned you liked my Old Guard series, so I wrote a new installment of that for you instead!

Platonic Ships: Eponine & Musichetta, Eponine & Grantaire

Eponine swirled her glass. Cosette was still with Enjolras - she’d dragged their newly-returned-from-the-dead friend off pretty quick, but Eponine was still processing. Did she believe him? She wasn’t sure. He’d convinced Bahorel, though, and Baz had never been the type to believe just anything without questioning it, especially something as batshit crazy as all of this.

Immortals. What next?

She drained what remained of her whiskey and coke, and stood. She needed to go for a walk.

Eponine was three blocks away from Jehan’s little house when Musichetta caught up to her.

“Hey.” Musichetta put a hand on Eponine’s shoulder. “You okay?”

Eponine stopped walking, lit a cigarette. “Yeah. Sure.”

“You know it’s okay if you’re not,” Musichetta said, never one to just back down.

“Yeah,” Eponine repeated with a sigh. “You want one?”

“Sure.” Musichetta took the offered cigarette; Eponine lit it for her.

They stood in silence for a while. Eponine liked that about Musichetta, that they could just be. That she didn’t have to talk, or fill the space.

“It’s fucked up, right?” Eponine said eventually.

“Yeah.” Musichetta didn’t have to ask what. Enjolras’ return was a miracle unlooked for, of course, but it was bittersweet, too. They’d mourned him. Not moved on, never moved on - it felt impossible, when there were no answers - but he’d left them.

Eponine understood. She did, probably better than any of the rest of them. She of all people knew about needing to run away and not look back, knew about new lives and new beginnings and the colliding of worlds.

It still hurt, to have been left behind.

“It’s good to have answers,” Musichetta said eventually, when their cigarettes were burned nearly to stubs. “Fucking weird answers, mind you-”

Eponine laughed, sharp. “Fucking weird answers,” she agreed.

“-But it’s good to have them,” Musichetta finished.

“Yeah,” Eponine agreed. “I’m glad he’s alive. And hey, if he really is immortal, I can shank him for doing that to us,” she grinned, all teeth and no joy.

Musichetta nudged her in the side. “You’re not gonna stab Enjolras,” she shook her head.

“I might,” Eponine protested.

“You’re not going to stab Enjolras,” Musichetta repeated sternly. “I know you’re mad. We all are, a little. It’s a lot. But-”

“But what? But he had to?” She knew that. “It wasn’t safe?” She knew that too. She dropped her cigarette, put it out with her heel. Could hear Enjolras’ voice in the back of her head, chiding her for littering, for letting the chemicals inevitably leach into the water somewhere. She ignored it.

“Yes,” Musichetta said, as if it were that simple. “And he came back in the end.”

“Because he got caught,” Eponine snarled. “Not because-”

“He cares about us. He cares about you,” Musichetta said softly.

“Does he?”

“You know he does.”

Eponine sighed, looked away. “I’ll forgive him eventually,” she muttered. “I’m just - I’m not ready yet.”

“Okay,” Musichetta agreed with a soft smile. “Can I hug you?”

Eponine rolled her eyes a little, but she opened her arms, and really, she’d never admit it out loud, but Musichetta’s hugs had a way of making her feel like everything really might be alright, someday.

--

Enjolras would stay for three days. That’s what he said when he got off the phone with his friends. Three days. His friends would make the drive today, his new family.

Eponine didn’t resent him for it. Or - she did, a little. He’d ran off with his new friends to a new place and left them all to pick up the pieces, and now his new friends were coming here. But it was fine, and Eponine didn’t resent him.

Maybe if she repeated it enough she’d convince herself.

She knew she wasn’t being fair to him. She knew she was wasting time - if they only had three days, she ought to be making the most of it, not sulking in the bathroom.

“You’re going to regret avoiding him the whole time when he has to leave again,” came Musichetta’s voice from the other side of the door, because Musichetta was a fucking mind reader.

“Maybe so,” Eponine called back, but she unlocked the door and opened it.

“Apparently they’ll be here in around an hour,” Musichetta reported. “They started the drive this morning.”

“Great,” Eponine muttered.

“Ep.” Musichetta frowned. Apparently, sympathy hours had run out. “Come on. They’re important to him.”

“We used to be important to him,” Eponine scowled.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Musichetta stepped into the bathroom with Eponine, shutting the door behind her. “I love you, you know I do, but he still loves us. And you’re going to feel like shit when he’s gone, and you’ve just been resentful at him the whole time. Did he do a shitty thing? Yes. Do you have a right to be upset by it all? Absolutely. But you’re going to kick yourself for wasting the time you’ve been given.”

Eponine glared at Musichetta for a long moment, but Musichetta was used to her moods, and didn’t back down an inch.

Eponine deflated, sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. “So, we’ve moved on from pity to ass-kicking, huh?”

“You know the drill, baby,” Musichetta grins at her. “One day for wallowing, and then we get the fuck back up again.”

“Ugh. I fucking hate you.”

“No you don’t.” Musichetta clapped Eponine on the back. “C’mon. Let’s go do this thing.”

--

Enjolras’ friends were.. Well. They were an odd bunch, which meant, in the end, that they fit right in. Marius was looking up at Courfeyrac with the widest puppy eyes, enraptured by the tales he wove. Marius wasn’t the only one - even Eponine had to admit the man had charisma. He’d won over most of the group within moments of arriving, cheerful and kind as he was. Combeferre was a quiet, steady presence beside him, the pair of them orbiting each other in a way that was as enthralling as it was sickeningly sweet. Joly had managed to tear Combeferre away for a separate conversation at some point; Eponine wasn’t listening, had stopped listening when they had started discussing the more gruesome points in medical history. And then there was Feuilly - she was gorgeous, and better yet, she swore like a sailor and beat Bahorel at arm wrestling three times in a row. Enjolras’ new friends had been folded neatly into the Amis, like it was easy, like they fit.

Well, most of them. One man kept to the corner, nursing a drink and watching Enjolras, always watching Enjolras.

“Grantaire, right?” Eponine leaned against the wall beside him.

He looked over at her, startled. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“A bit old for him, aren’t you?” she asked, because she wasn’t stupid, she knew what it meant that Grantaire stared like that, that Enjolras only blushed when stumbling over his introduction of Grantaire, and not the others.

Grantaire snorted. “You have no idea,” he admitted. “But he knows what he wants, and I’ve learned not to get in the way of his decisions.”

“Hm.” Eponine sized Grantaire up. Honestly, she’d assumed Enjolras was some sort of monk, before he’d disappeared. He’d never dated, never so much as looked.

He definitely looked at Grantaire, though. In fact, he was looking now, looking away from his conversation with Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Marius and Cosette to stare at Grantaire, and it wasn’t a look Eponine had ever seen him direct at anyone before.

“You’re not what I’d have expected for him,” she said.

“Tell me about it.” Grantaire didn’t seem to care to argue the point.

Eponine narrowed her eyes at him.

He glanced at her, and shrugged. “I love him,” he said after a moment. “When I was ready to give up on the world, there he was, all..” He waved a hand in Enjolras’ direction. “Well, you know him. You know what he’s like - justice and whatever, Apollo fucking incarnate, the way he speaks..” Grantaire trailed off. “I don’t know how anyone can hear him talk and not love him.”

“I dunno, he’s not really my type,” Eponine said drily, a smile beginning to curl at the edge of her lips despite herself.

Grantaire laughed. “Must be weird, all of this.”

“Now there’s an understatement,” Eponine muttered, eyes locked on Enjolras, who had returned to his conversation.

“He’s not going to age,” Grantaire said, not quite casual.

“I guess not,” Eponine agreed.

“It’s going to kill him, watching you all age and die.” Grantaire crossed his arms over his chest.

Eponine.. hadn’t thought about that. “Is that why he stayed away?”

“Absolutely not.” Grantaire huffed out a laugh, though he didn’t seem happy about it. “No, he wanted so badly to get in touch, no matter how much we - I - warned him he’d just get hurt. He thinks it’s worth it.” Grantaire looked around the room, and Eponine could see when he softened. “Maybe he was right,” he allowed. “I just hope it doesn’t break him.”

“So you’re the reason he stayed away,” Eponine narrowed her eyes at him.

Grantaire glanced at her. “I just want him to be safe and happy. Getting attached to mortals? Never ends well.”

“It wasn’t your call to make,” Eponine frowned at him.

“No,” Grantaire agreed. “It wasn’t. I didn’t try to stop him from coming here, I just..” He sighed.

Eponine sighed too. “You’re right,” she said eventually. “It’ll kill him to watch us die. And he won’t look away, I know he won’t, he’ll be here.”

“Yeah,” Grantaire agreed.

Sad wasn’t the right word for Grantaire, Eponine thought. Weary, to his bones, with sadness etched into him… for a moment, she felt like she glimpsed him properly, ancient and grand as he was. And then he was just a guy again - a young man in a green hoodie, someone she’d pass on the street and never give a second thought to.

“You’ll be there for him, when it happens,” Eponine said like it was a certainty. She had to hope - believe - that it was.

“Yes,” Grantaire agreed. “I’ll be there. So will they.” He gestured to where Enjolras was gesticulating wildly, accidentally smacking Courfeyrac’s nose when a gesture went too wide. Courfeyrac just laughed, and tweaked Enjolras’ nose in return. Enjolras squawked indignantly, and then the whole group of them were laughing, Cosette and Marius included, and Bossuet, who had joined them at some point.

“You’ll keep in touch,” Eponine said. It wasn’t a question. She held out her phone.

Grantaire looked at her for a long moment. She didn’t squirm, didn’t flinch, just raised an eyebrow.

Grantaire nodded, took the phone, and plugged his own number in. Enjolras’, too, for good measure.

“I was determined to hate you all,” Eponine admitted as she took the phone back.

“I get that,” Grantaire agreed.

“I don’t,” Eponine pocketed the phone. “He seems happy. And he’s out there, making a difference or whatever. If he can’t do it with us, I’m.. glad, I guess, that he can do it with you.”

“He’d stay if he could,” Grantaire said.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Eponine shook her head. “He cares about you a lot. And them, too, your whole bunch.”

“He’s got enough in his heart of all of us.” Grantaire looked at her.

Eponine smiled a little. “Yeah. Yeah, he does.”