#bc i knew she wouldn’t make it through another year

[halfelven]

absolutely devastating to lay flowers and pay respects at my grandmother’s funeral as the “representative” of my “family” entirely alone. all the other cousins with at least a parent. even the second cousins with someone with them. placing flowers on her grave and stepping back as the only person with no one to turn to. everyone hugging each other and just standing there

[leclerced]

join the party | mv1 dr3

Summary: Max and his lady love are celebrating his third world championship when longtime friend Daniel Ricciardo interrupts then joins in on the fun.

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: literally no plot. just sex. from beginning to end. do not read if you are a child, for the love of all that is good in the world.

Author’s note: i haven’t written in three years and this is not proofread, so i apologize that this is a mess. i quite literally dreamed about this and when i woke up, i immediately started writing it in my notes app so i wouldn’t forget. also max looks so bf in that gif i had to use it. got another one coming soon so i hope u guys like this one bc i wrote 10k today

She loved having Max at her mercy like this. She had been on her knees between his legs for the past thirty minutes, teasing him and enjoying the sounds he was making. He won the championship tonight, she was celebrating in her own way. His head was tossed back in pure bliss, one hand holding hers and the other in her hair, not guiding or controlling her, just grounding himself. They were both still dressed, she hadn’t taken any time to remove any clothing before pushing him onto the couch and pulling his sweats down enough to pull his cock out.

Neither of them wanted him to finish until he was in her, but with the way she was playing with him, he didn’t think he would last much longer. He was content to let her go at for as long as she wanted, or at least until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He was just beginning to wonder how her jaw wasn’t aching when they were interrupted by the hotel door opening. Max choked out a moan as he pulled her off him quickly, trying to cover himself and disguise what they were doing before he realized it was just Daniel.

Daniel stopped walking through when he saw the compromising position they were in. “What the fuck do you want?” Max groaned at the same time she rasped, “How did you get in?”

Daniel held up a keycard, “Told them I was Max and that I lost my keycard. Was just gonna offer my congratulations to the World Champ, but I see I’m interrupting the party.”

She smirked, “Why don’t you join the party?” She heard Max’s breath hitch in his throat, but he didn’t object. Daniel was stunned into silence, but she didn’t take it as a no, so she turned back to Max and pulled the pillow off his lap. “S’pose you can just stand and watch, if that’s what you’re into, just close the door.” She said, and with that she took Max’s cock back into her mouth. Max patted the couch next to him before wrapping her hair around his fist. She heard the door close and a shuffle of footsteps before Daniel was sinking into the couch next to Max, their thighs touching. She always loved Daniel’s thigh tattoos, she thought passively.

She nearly brought Max to the edge again before she suddenly pulled off when his grip tightened and his moans changed pitch, for the third time that night, only one of which was for Daniel’s interruption. She shifted positions so she was between Daniel’s legs instead of Max’s, tapping Daniel’s thigh softly and murmuring, “Your turn?” At his nod, his lips forming a soundless “yes”, still seemingly in too much shock to form words. Her hand slid up his thigh and under his shirt for a moment, fingers stroking across his abdomen before her fingers dipped into his waist band. She gave a small tug his shorts and his hips instinctively lifted to let her pull them down. Max would have been offended that she stopped just before he came, but he knew her game all along, he couldn’t act surprised now.

While she sucked Daniel’s cock, Max slid from the couch and pushed the coffee table back before settling in right behind her. He was thankful she chose to wear a skirt today, it gave him easy access to what he wanted most, he thought as he flipped the back up. Her panties were an easy obstacle to get past, smirking to himself as he gripped the lace hem and ripped, the slinky fabric tearing easily at his strength. Normally, she would complain, but in the moment she didn’t even register what the sound was until the cold air hit her hot pussy, and even then, she had her mouth too full of cock to complain.

He licked his lips at the sight of her dripping cunt. “Aww, schatje, sucking our cocks got you all wet, hmm?” She moaned around Daniel and felt his cock twitch at the vibrations, so she did it again and he moaned her name and gripped her hair tighter in response. Max slowly slid one finger up her slit, nuzzling it against her clit before sliding back and slipping inside of her. He made quick work of her, it wasn’t long before he was adding a second finger and stretching his thumb to rub her clit teasingly.

Soon enough he was tapping her thigh to warn her and pulling her hips back, forcing her to shift her position without taking her mouth off his best friend. It didn’t work, she immediately pulled away to look at Max when she felt the head of his cock against her entrance. Her eyes fluttered dazedly at him, and he gave her a small smile. Despite how wet she was, she could feel the precum from his cock against her, could feel that as much as she was dripping for him, he was too. She turned her head to look up at Daniel and was shocked when she saw he was leaning over her to watch Max tease her cunt with his cock. Heat spread through her body as Max slowly pushed inside, and she wanted to lean back and press herself against him, but she had her fun with him, it was his turn now.

He sunk all the way in, letting her adjust to him while he rubbed her hip soothingly. She took the moment to wrap her lips around Daniel again, sucking softly on the head and stroking with one hand. He settled back onto the couch, eyes refocusing on the wet mouth around him instead of watching Max’s cock inside her. Max wanted nothing more than to fuck her dumb, to bend her over the couch and fuck her until she was crying and begging for more and less at the same time. That would have to wait, she had to split her focus between the cock between her legs and the one between her lips. He would have his way with her later.

He started moving slowly, pulling out until just the tip was still inside and using his hand to swirl it around the way she liked- scratch that- loved. He repeated that motion a few times, sinking all the way inside her, then pulling out and teasing her entrance with his tip. She practically purred at the sensation, arching her back and reaching her free hand back to pull him closer, she couldn’t see him, so she really just waved at him and he got the hint, leaning forward and pressing his chest against her back.

As he leaned into her, he snapped his hips forward and he heard the slick pop as she released Daniel from her hold and moaned loudly, her cunt clenching around him at the sudden change in pace and force. Before she could get her mouth back on him, Max was pulling her top up her body and over her head with one hand and snapping the clasp on her bra with his other hand. She fumbled to raise her arms and then drop them down again as he tugged the bra away immediately after the shirt was gone, but didn’t fuss as his lips feverishly started kissing her neck and shoulders, nipping and sucking and surely leaving marks to be seen in the morning.

He set a slow and steady pace from there, knowing after the nearly hour long edging she gave him he wouldn’t last long. He hadn’t thought about it until now, but she hadn’t been touched until now, and he could tell how close she already was to falling over the edge and he had barely done anything. He slid one hand between her legs, pressing two fingers on either side of her entrance, feeling his cock moving in and out of her and her cunt throbbing around him before sliding the two fingers to her clit and swirling them around the bud.

Daniel’s fingers had replaced his in her hair, and when Max glanced up he saw how fucked Daniel looked. He had never seen him like that, eyes blown out and lips bitten red. As if he could feel Max’s eyes, he looked up from his lap and straight into Max’s eyes. A grin broke out on his face and he released one hand from her hair, raising it for a high five. Max laughed, of course Daniel would be asking for a high five mid fuck. He pulled his hand from her hip and felt her body sag slightly at the loss of support, slapping Daniel’s quickly before finding its place again.

Suddenly he found himself irritated with the position she was in, knowing he could be deeper in her, and he pulled the hand on her clit back up to her hips and jerked them up, forcing her onto her knees. He worried that it may have been uncomfortable to move with his cock in her, but the thought left him as soon as he felt her clench at the new position. “You want to come, schatje? Make Danny cum and you can, how’s that sound?”

Daniel moaned in agreement, mumbling through it “That’s right, doll, ‘m real close jus’ keep goin’.” She looked up through her lashes and saw Daniel’s head tossed back and she suddenly had the urge to mark up his neck the way Max was doing hers right then. She ignored the painful ache in her jaw and focused on her job at hand, making the Aussie in front of her cum. She focused on the head of his cock, leaving her hand to stroke up and down as she switched between licking and sucking softly at the tip, her free hand cupping his balls and she could feel how close he was. He finally looked down at her, his chest heaving as he brought one hand up to drag across his face and he smiled, genuinely smiled at her before she took more of him into her mouth again and the smile fell as he cursed. It was music to her ears.

She was hoping he was as sensitive as Max was she suddenly sucked harder than before and was met with a shot of cum coating her tongue and a shout as he tried to warn her, his fist tugging at her hair but she took him all the way to the back of her throat and swallowed around him. His legs twitched against her and she watched as his eyes scrunched shut and his hell fell back against the couch. When he nudged her with a leg and tugged a little more forcefully at her hair she finally relented, grateful that she could finally focus on how good Max was making her feel. She been holding back her moans and focusing on Daniel, but as soon as he was out of her mouth she couldn't control it anymore.

Max seemed to feel the same way, because his hips sped up and the hand on her hip was suddenly gripping her chin, turning her face and messily kissing her. She brought one arm to rest on Daniel's thigh for support and the other reached behind her to grip at Max and this time, she was able to find his hair as he dropped his head and started kissing her shoulder again. Her mind was reeling from the pleasure coursing through her. She could feel him everywhere, all over her, and she didn't even know if she was coherent as she moaned "Max- baby- I'm so close- please-"

He nodded, teeth scraping against her skin as he bit her neck right below her ear, before cutting her off. "I know schatje, I know, want you to cum for me,” his voice was right in her ear, his lips brushing the shell of her ear and it sent tingles up her spine. "Been waiting all night to feel you gushing around me. Let you play with my cock in your mouth for an hour, teasing me. Shouldn't even let you cum for how many times you pulled off just before I coated your tongue." She giggled a little and he paused to nip at her neck again, harder this time, and sighed against her skin. "But I wanna feel it around me, so why don't you make me feel good, huh? Cum around me won't you?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, she was there. Her entire body was shaking, he's certain she wouldn't even be upright if it weren't for having one hand on her lower stomach, fingers stretched to assault her clit and and one gripping her hip tightly. It should be painful, she knew there were going to be bruises tomorrow, the way his fingers were digging into her skin was sending waves of pleasure through her body. She bit onto Daniel’s thigh to keep from screaming when it first hit her, Max’s words sending her into a frenzy but she was quickly releasing her bite, apologized and kissing his thigh.

He came with her, biting her shoulder and groaning her name, it was all he could do not to collapse on top of her as it hit him. He didn’t stop moving, fucking them both through their orgasms until she was incoherently mumbling against Daniel’s thigh and pushing his head away from her shoulder. He kissed her back one last time as he slowly pulled out of her, relishing in the whine that slipped from her lips as be did so. He slumped back against the coffee table, sharp edge biting into his back, but he didn’t care. He had a perfect view of her slumped over Daniel’s lap, with his cum dripping from her cunt. If Daniel weren’t here, and she weren’t still twitching from her orgasm, he would flip her over and go for round two.

[wonwoonlight]

when he finds out you're sick through the internet

A/N: idol!au. OC is also a celebrity though I don't explicitly say what. tiny teensy angst bc cheol is a worried Boyfriend💔 1.5k words! another random word vomits bc that's the only way i know how to write now lol idk why but everytime i write this kinda fic it's always seungcheol looooooooooooooool. not proofread, but enjoy!

[part 2]

Seungcheol doesn't really get angry.

For the three years you've known him in which you've dated him for two, you've only seen him actually get angry a total number of three times. None of them was directed at you, and all of them are for reasons that you would've exploded upon way before he did.

Seungcheol is patient and rational.

Seungcheol is normally patient and rational.

But he's never normal when it comes to you. And even though the patient bit still stands, nothing about his feelings towards you is ever rational. He's a little too emotional, a little too rash, and a little too worrisome when it comes to your wellbeing.

So when he's relaxing in the practice room during a break with his members, for once not on his phone because he's charging it somewhere on one of the tables, and he hears Seungkwan gasps a little upon his phone, he thinks there's another scandal blowing up upon the industry. But when the younger guy's blown out eyes meet him, colors drained from his face, Seungcheol hates that he knew it could mean one thing: something happened to you.

He shoots up almost immediately, not registering any words that come out of Seungkwan's mouth. His hands shake a little when he unlocks his phone, and his heart drops when he reads the official post from your company's twitter account that states your current condition, that you might need to pause your activities for the time being due to health reasons, apologizes for the worries, and asks for the fans' understanding.

He wants to get angry.

At who, he’s not sure.

At your company, for pushing you even though they know your schedule is practically inhumane? At your manager, for not making sure that you have decent rest in between schedules? At you, because he’s been telling you to fucking stop running towards whatever goal you have in mind but you insist that you know your limit and you’ll know when to stop?

Apparently, no you fucking don’t because else this wouldn’t have happened.

The rest of the members look at him in worry, and Jeonghan silently walks to their manager and the other staff to let them know about the situation at hand, that Seungcheol would probably not be in his best state to continue practice at the moment. The leader would probably insist that they continue anyway, but they’ve practiced for almost five hours already anyway and they could spare an hour or two for the leader when it’s clear that he’s worried beyond measure.

Seungcheol bites his lip as he tries to call you, his concern skyrocketing by the seconds the longer the beeping sound goes, no sign of you picking it up. He tries one more time, but you still don’t answer and he’s about to hurl his phone at the wall when your manager calls him instead, tells him that he sees his name flashing on your phone, informs your whereabouts, and that he should just drop by your place in a few hours if he wants to see you because right now you’re still sleeping in the car and he’s taking you home.

He finds it hard to say anything, a lump growing in his throat until he manages to swallow it down and ask how you’re doing right now.

“She’s… exhausted.” Your manager says quietly. “I know it’s my job to take care of her but… you know her. She didn’t tell me that she’s been having a hard time sleeping at night the past few weeks and it finally took a toll on her.”

It’s hard to suppress his anger, his breath heavier than usual though it’s not too noticeable unless they know Seungcheol. He wants to scream at your manager, but he knows it won’t do anyone any good and it’s really not the time nor the place for that. So he mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ before he hangs up, his members looking at him with a mix of worry and understanding when he looks up at them.

“Go.” Soonyoung says. “We’ve practiced enough today. Take care of your girlfriend and tell us later.”

Seungcheol nods and sprints out of the room, beyond thankful that his members always have his back.

Seungcheol is glaring at you when you wake up, though the way his thumb is still softly caressing your head and the worry in his eyes clearly tell you that his anger is nowhere near his distress. 

You offer him a weak smile, unable to defend yourself because you know what his eyes are scolding you for.

“Sorry?” You whisper and immediately cringe at how dry your throat feels.

He doesn’t say anything as he helps you sit down and hands you your favorite mug. Taking in the moment, you frown at how weak you feel, though you really only have yourself to blame because you genuinely thought you’re okay and you can take it.

You know it’s on you for taking as many schedules as possible, practically everything that your company offers you even when your manager says he doesn’t think it’s physically possible for you to do all that in such a short span.

Thinking about it now, you realize that your manager and the rest of your team also gets the short end of the stick through your decision. Him, your make up team, and your stylists would all need to be with you and your ambition forgets to consider their wellbeing even when you wrongly claim you would be able to handle it.

Guilt starts to eat you inside out, and it grows even larger as you see Seungcheol in front of you–didn’t he say he had practice today?–his face screams distressed and his shoulders tense since God knows when.

“Hey, talk to me.” He says softly when he notices you’ve been spacing out and you’re nibbling on your lip like you would when you’re anxious, taking away your mug before enveloping your hands with his.

You tear up almost immediately, and he moves to sit on the edge of your bed to usher you into his chest, patiently listens to your nonsense as you try to talk through your tears. He gets the gist of it: sorry–manager–company–wellbeing–my team–didn’t think it through–made you worry–overestimated myself–sorry–and the list goes on. He exhales as he hugs you tighter, both understanding and upset at the turns of events.

Being in the same industry, he gets what you’re trying to do, understands that you feel the need to keep on running while you’re able to, relates that you’re doing everything for yourself and your fans. But still, it’s hard not to be upset to know you’re pushing yourself too hard when he’s been telling you there’s no need to run as fast as you are without resting; that you’ll only hurt yourself one way or another and he hates that the one time he needs to be right, it’s this.

You end up laying down against his chest on your bed, hiccups and sniffles filling your bedroom along with a random song he’s humming against your head. You pull away to properly look at him, the first time you’re doing it since you woke up earlier, and his hum stops in question.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt without even realizing. “For being here when I woke up.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand why you’re thanking him, simply leans down to plant a long, chaste kiss against your forehead before he pulls up your blanket so it’ll cover you properly.

“Just… don’t surprise me like that again, okay?” His breath is warm against your face, pleasantly so, and you nod as you promise him that you’ll take better care of yourself moving forward. 

“Are you staying the night?”

“Yes, I’ll return to the dorm the day after tomorrow. They’ve given me a day off.” You cringe at his words, though thankful that he’s been in the industry long enough to attain that kind of privilege. But still, you feel bad that you’re obstructing his practice and his members just because you’re foolish enough to– “Hey. Stop. I know what you’re thinking. No need to feel bad. I’m actually glad I get to rest with you.”

“But–”

“No buts. The kids can do without me for a day.” He playfully bumps his forehead against yours, his lips hover above yours merely centimeters apart.  He doesn’t meet your lips, though he kisses their corner sweetly and wraps you back into his embrace to the point where there’s no space between you two. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Good night, Cheol.”

“Night, baby.”

“See you in my dream?”

“I’ll see you anywhere you want me to be.”

He hugs you tighter, and you try your best to return the gesture despite the awkward position of your arms. It’s uncomfortable and you’re sure your arms will be sore the next morning.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when you succumb to sleep and find Seungcheol smiling at you on the other side of your dream, as real as he can be.

cont.

[yourmidnightlover]

experimental

pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: due to an influx of female students, you are roomed with xavier thorpe as a sort of experiment. what happens when you become plagued with a frightening nightmare?

warnings: kinda enemies to sorta lovers, cuddling bc duh, there are some things that aren't answered or brought back up so i guess there's a possibility for a part 2 that gets... intimate??

a/n: it’s a cliche and i’m a sucker for it. we're gonna pretend weems never died bc that was a disgrace.

when you found out you would be paired with a guy you thought maybe that meant more storage space for yourself, maybe even you’d get some nice eye candy to look at. but nope. you got xavier thorpe. respectively, he is nice to look at, but he’s also a total jerk.

it started when you first got to nevermore a year ago, before the murders happened. you had been partnered with him on a few projects and he consistently ignored you when you tried to spark a conversation. each opinion you asked him for, he always gave you the shortest answer possible.

you don't think he knows of your involvement with the hyde. you knew of his involvements and interactions, the accusations. you were best friends with enid before wednesday came along. admiring the way wednesday and enid had some sort of magnetic connection, you gave them some space for whatever they had.

what you didn't expect was for her to call for your help the night of the attack. with your ability to manipulate nature, you would be quite a big help in a forest. neither you nor enid could anticipate the ricochet of a tree ripped from its roots being thrown at enid. luckily, you got there in time to knock enid out of the way. unfortunately that meant that you got hit by the tree, rendering you unconscious and in a coma for weeks until weems announced the early ending of the semester.

that night still haunts you in dreams, somtimes while you're still awake when it's been a long day.

regardless, you thought he was petty and maybe just a douche but what tipped you over the edge was when you heard him making fun of you with a few of his friends.

“she just keeps trying to talk to me!” there was no emotion other than frustration that you could detect in his voice. the people surrounding him began laughing. “is it not completely obvious as to why i’ve been ignoring her?” you heard the venom in his scoff, and you became happy his back was turned to you, sure that the look on his face was nothing but smug and smiley.

“dude, you’re screwed,” another person piped in with a laugh. you had heard enough. you swiftly walked away, sure not to disturb anything so you wouldn’t grab any attention.

as a result, you treated him as he first treated you. you gave him attitude, short answers, and on occasion some nasty looks.

when you saw xavier thorpe’s unwelcoming face as weems led you to your new room, you were beyond disappointed. you could tell he was too as his eyes widened before his brows rose in an obvious look of discomfort.

“welcome to your new home for the next semester, ms. y/l/n,” she pat your shoulder before leaving abruptly, allowing you to settle into the room.

“look,” you sighed as you heard her heels step down the hall. “i know this’ll be more than difficult for the both of us, so let’s just stay out of each others way as much as possible?”

he rose his hands in defense before nodding, “whatever you want,” he pressed his lips into a fine line.

you rolled your eyes before plopping your bags down beside the bed, letting yourself lay down on it. you could get through this. sure, you wouldn’t have a safe place to go to when you needed it. you wouldn’t have a quiet place to do homework. but you had a place to sleep and to shower and that was fine.

within a couple of weeks, you had made a schedule. you took into consideration his tendency to sleep in and stay out late. in spite of his best efforts, you did know about the art shed.

everyone knows he loves to draw and he doesn’t do it as often in his own room nor in an art room. sometimes he wouldn’t even come back at night, which meant he had to have another place to sleep.

one day, you may have gotten a bit worried as to where he was and simply watched which way he went into the woods. after searching for a short amount of time, you found the shed.

bathroom time:

AM

6:00-7:00 ~ y/n

7:00-8:00 ~ xavier

PM

7:00-8:00 ~ y/n

8:00-whenever ~ xavier

you proudly posted the schedule on the window where he often tapes up a few of his pieces, that way he was sure to see it. it wasn't you trying to be snooty and righteous, it was merely just so you could avoid any awkward interactions.

"seriously?" he scoffed late at night, or more in the morning. you sat up in your bed with a roan, making a noise to ask what he was talking about. "you made a fucking bathroom schedule?"

"it's-it's," you took a sip of water that sat by your bed before rubbing your eyes and checking the clock. 3:53. "it's just so we don't accidentally walk in while the other is showering and shit. basically, i can shower from those times and you can do the same."

"so you just want to dictate my life now?" he scoffed as you heard the rustling of clothes, probably his jacket being discarded.

"no, thorpe," you sighed as you threw your head back on the bed. this boy just wasn't getting it. "look, i took into consideration the fact that you like to sleep in. classes start at 8, so you can shower at 7:30 or whenever because you never wake up earlier than that," you sat back up once more and threw your blanket off of you. "and you stay out all night at that art shed of yours, which is fine! but since you're not even in here at 7 i figured it would be fine to just say that the bathroom is reserved during that time, alright?" you were angry now. it's been a while since you've gotten enough sleep, or uninterrupted sleep. and now he's ruined it.

"i didn't know you thought about that," you were able to make out his figure sitting down on the bed. "sorry," he said it so quietly it was almost as if he didn't want you to hear.

"just turn on the light," you instructed him. "i'm not gonna get any sleep tonight anyway," you huffed before grabbing a book from your nightstand, flipping your lamp on to illuminate the room.

"look, i am sorry," he turned towards you with a soft face. "i know how hard it can be to actually get a good nights' sleep," when you made eye contact you didn't see a face of pity, but of understanding.

"it's fine," you turned to your bookmarked page and began reading, although you weren't really taking in any of the words on the page.

"i uhm-i visited you," he added as he now walked over to his desk, rummaging through his sketchbook. you looked up at him with a questioning face. "when you were hospitalized after everything. enid did too, but i just wanted to make sure that someone was there when you woke up."

"you weren't," you shook your head, your focus on the book now dead. "you weren't there when i woke up. nobody was there."

"i went to get something to eat," you heard the smile on his face. "it's so stupid. i missed you waking up because of food. but you hadn't woken up in weeks and nobody knew when you would. i figured i'd grab something and come back and just keep drawing or something while you sleep. but you were awake."

"i didn't think anyone really cared," you shrugged, looking down where your book lay closed.

"i'm sorry you were alone when you woke up, nobody should have to go through that," when you looked back up, he was at the foot of your bed with a sheet of paper. "this is one of the many drawings i made when you were asleep. you should have it."

it was one of you in a coma, but instead of a hospital bed you were in a field of flowers. the nose cannula was replaced with vines, flowers growing from each tendril. you even had a bouquet of flowers in your hand, a crown of them on your head. you didn't even look like you were dying, or close to it. you looked ethereal.

"wow."

"if it's too much, i-"

"no, no," you interrupted with a smile growing on your face. "i-i don't think i would have ever described myself as beautiful, but somehow that's the only word that comes to my mind when looking at this. thank you."

"thank you," he grasped the end of your bedframe before walking back to his own. "i think i'm gonna shower, keeping with the schedule and all."

you nodded, "alright," you were glad he walked away. he couldn't see the tears form or fall from your eyes.

-

you never went to sleep that night. you set the drawing beside your bed and attempted to continue your book, even when xavier got out of the shower. the last thing you wanted was to start to even remotely like the guy you've sworn to hate. if you can't protect your mind, all you can protect is your dignity at this point.

now, three weeks later, everything is going rather smoothly. the bathroom schedule is being kept and respected, your grades are looking good, no nightmares. the thing with your nightmares is that the longer you don't have one, the worse the next one might be. last time you went four weeks without a nightmare, you woke up screaming in a hot sweat. it had now been around six.

not even to mention the horror that would happen if xavier were actually in the room when it happened. you would be humiliated. he would probably yell it to the whole school, how scared you are.

you had been readying yourself. now supplied with essential oils, doing yoga, meditation, and many other fail-safes, you thought you were almost exempt from any sort of nightmare creeping up on you.

another thing you had started doing to help calm yourself was to go on runs. through a distinct path in the woods, the smell of pine and slight floral would calm you.

though, this run felt different. at a certain point, your body felt rigid. the stiffness in your muscles told you something was off on this run. the crunching of the leaves felt less like a welcome home and more like a warning.

after feeling like you were being followed, you turned around to see xavier walking out of his shed. you hadn't realized you were out that far. you stopped abruptly, laughing at yourself for being so afraid.

"god, you scraed me, thorpe," you held your hand over your heart as you took a deep breath.

"oh, sorry," he smiled as he made his way over to you. "what're you doing out here? i thought you'd be in the shower by now."

"wanted to clear my head, so... went on a run," he nodded in understanding. "you planning on coming back to the room to sleep tonight?"

"i guess we'll see," he smiled as he took a step closer to you. his hands found your waist, holding you softly as if you were fragile. maybe you were.

"i guess so," your arms were thrown over his shoulders as he began to lean down, his lips almost connecting with yours before you heard something behind him.

you stopped in the motions, looking behind him to see the hyde making angry steps towards you. you pushed xavier to the side and told him to run. as stupid as guys are, he decided to look behind him to see what was happening.

"xavier, go!" you urged him as you threw a gust of wind towards te hyde, one that would normally knock an army over. "it's not safe!"

"i'm not leaving you!" he stood by your side as the hyde began to launch objects towards you. he had terrible aim.

then, the moment came. a tree that had been uprooted, that would have knocked the hyde down, was now being hurtled your way. with the way it was travelling, it would hit you dead center.

xavier got in front of you, holding your shoulders, "you're alright, y/n! i'm here!"

"xavier!" your body jolted upwards in a panic, your limbs shaking.

when you finally regained your vision, you were met with a frantic xavier. his eyes were looking at you panicked, his hands cradling your waist and face.

"hey, you're okay," he was holding you so soft. you felt safe. "i'm right here, y/n," you realized you were sitting in your bed, him sitting where your legs weren't tangled.

you didn't realize the hot tears trailing down your face until xavier wiped them for you, "you were... you were gonna die. you stood in front of the-in front of me and it was-and we were," he guided your face into his neck as he brought you into a hug.

"it was a nightmare; you're safe now," he pressed a kiss to your hairline as you sobbed into his chest. arms wrapping around his middle, his own arms tightened on your body to make you feel more secure.

you sat there until the sobs subsided. xavier's hands began to trace your back. at some point, your legs became wrapped around his body with you in his lap. it wasn't in a sexual way. it was in a comforting, needing to be near to him kind of moment.

his smell was oddly comforting. it was a mix of the woods he was always in, paint, and sage. you were scared to close your eyes again, to see him being killed. maybe spending so much time with him has made you a bit fond of the guy. maybe more than fond...

"i'm scared, xavier," you sighed into his chest, clutching tighter to his shirt.

"i know you are," he pulled back to look at your disheveled state. "you wanna try to sleep together? i mean like-like in my bed with me. not like sleep together with like... yea. i wouldn't take advantage of you like that. i'm gonna shut up now," a blush washed over his face, turning it as red as you could see in the dim light.

"i would like to," you nodded as a smile creeped up on your face. "if that's alright?"

"of course, of course," his hands raked through your hair, smoothing it down from a probably incredibly messy state. "here, hold on tight," he gripped your thighs as he rose to his feet, walking over to his bedand sitting down.

you rolled over to the side of him and let him get underneath the covers before you followed suit. "can i-can we like... cuddle?"

"why else would i carry you all the way over here?" he opened his arms for you to roll into. you rested your head on his chest, your hands wrapping around his middle once again as his went around your shoulders.

you waited a beat before you fell asleep before admitting, "i think i like you," almost immediately succumbing to the frightful state of sleep

xavier waited until he heard your breath even out, "i've always liked you."

[redr0sewrites]

If it wouldn’t be too much to ask can we get an angst Adam x reader?

Where reader is a winner waiting in heaven for Adam to return from extermination only for him to never show and being told by Emily or lute directly he died.

Please and thank you!

NONNIE WHY WOULD U DO THIS TO MEEEEEEEE <\\3

🥀Pt 2 HERE

🥀Cw: major character death, angst

the soft tapping of your foot against the marble floors echoed rhythmically throughout your shared home. shared with your lover of course, who had just flown off to this year's extermination. pacing up and down the kitchen floor, worries were seeping into your mind. despite your lover's reassurance, you still had the nagging feeling that something was amiss. you knew that Adam would be up against some of hells greatest powers, and while he had confidently assured you that the battle would be easy, you were still uncertain.

"dont worry toots, i'll be fiiiiine. i always am, eh? i'm THE Adam, i fucking rock! trust me babe, this fight will be over in minutes~" your lover leaned in to kiss your cheek before donning his helmet and taking off into the sky. as you watched him fly away, you tried to calm the worries soaring in your chest. Adam was right, he would be fine. he always was... right?

you replayed the scene in your mind again and again, trying to force yourself to remain calm. everything would be fine, Adam would come home and tackle you in a hug, then demand that you listen to him rant for the next few hours about each of his kills. suddenly, the rustle of wings and a loud thump outside of your door caught your attention. you ran towards your front door, excitement filling your body as relief curled into your soul. he was fine, of course he was fine! you tore open the door, expecting your lover's bright eyes and boastful expression to greet you. but it wasn't Adam at the door. it was Lute, looking bedraggled and worse for wear.

"Lute? what the fuck happened to your arm?!" you exclaim, motioning for her to come inside. Lute just shakes her head, a miserable look on her usually stern face. "Lute... where is Adam?" you try to remain calm as she just stares at you, pain and pity in her gaze. "he... in the battle, there were some... complications. Adam didn't make it," she whispered, handing you a bloody halo. ice cold shock flooded through you, soon melting into a burning pain coiled in your chest. you felt as though your insides were trying to break free, and you took the halo from her with shaky hands.

"where... where is his body," you whisper, voice low and sharp. Lute turned, refusing to even look at you. "we lost it, we had to retreat quickly and didn't have time to retrieve it..." your heart broke at her remorseful tone, and tears began to stream down your face. "i'm sorry y/n. there was nothing i could do-" you raised a hand to shush her, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. your lovers cold halo was still heavy in your hand, just like the heavy ache in your heart.

"its not your fault, Lute. i just- i need some alone time to process- i don't know." you sigh, defeated and exhausted. "i think we all do," she whispered, looking at you again. then, Lute nodded understandingly, and flew off without another word. for a second you stood there, looking out at the beautiful skies of heaven. people always claimed that there were never bad days in heaven, but you felt as though your very soul was splitting in half. pain and remorse and anger seemed to be filling the empty pit in your heart, the fresh wound of Adam's loss already stung enough. you slam your door shut, throwing the halo across the ground and collapsing into your shared bed- now just yours. there was nothing you could do, and tears overcame you as the sound of sobbing echoed throughout your lonely home.

AUGHHHHHJH this hurts. i might make a pt2 where adam returns as a sinner and reunites with reader (only if yall want ofc) bc i HATe unhappy endings 😭

[coolaboutlucy]

Jealous and possessive abby - not in a toxic or abusive way but maybe you guys went to a party and your ex or some random decided to act up and be crazy and start hitting on you when everyone knows you're hers so she starts getting protective and marking her territory - she never blames you for it but she just wants to remind you who you belong to so she feels better with your consent if course and you find it hot asf

𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 | 𝙖. 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

tags: alcohol consumption, mild language, theres a gross man, abby is possessive (per the request), i think that should be everything???, i still stuck at tagging

a/n: was lowkey stuck on this prompt bc i don’t remember the last time i did smth like this but also, i procrastinated like, a lot. tbh i don’t rlly ever proofread anything i write i just post it with a hope and a prayer but wtv! i hope yall enjoy this. 🤍😙😙

bodies filled the house you and abby were currently in. the air smelled like alcohol, sweat, and a mixture of cologne and cheap perfume. this wasn’t particularly your scene, but abby wanted to go since one of her friends were hosting the party. you sorta stood on the wall, nursing a cup of.. something abby mixed for you. she wanted to prepare your drink herself. yknow, cause people are weird and like dropping shit in your drink without your knowledge. the screen of your phone illuminates your features softly under the red and purple LED lights. nobody dared to bother you much because everyone knew you were abbys girl. god, she never shuts up about you! but it’s only because she loves you so much. she also did it because she wanted to make your relationship known, and she’d gladly knock the lights out of anyone who dared to approach you cause she didn’t play that game.

the necklace around your neck had her initial on it. she’d gifted it to you during valentines day last year. it glints a little from the light coming from the screen of your phone. you’d been mid sip when some piss drunk man came stumbling over to you. and suddenly your settings app looked interesting as hell! he stops infront of you with a woozy smile and a flushed face from drinking. lowkey, he was like, really ugly. he’s the kind of guy a girl would only fuck in the dark. “what’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” he asked as he looked you up and down with obviously lustful eyes. “ah, im.. actually not alone. im here with someone.” you say as you give him an awkward smile and a chuckle. “i don’t see ‘em. why dontcha come with me? we could go back ‘t my place.. maybe order somethin’ to eat.” you politely decline and give him another awkward smile. while trying to ward this man off, you text abby.

“theres some guy over here flirting w/ me, help!!” you text her while trying as much as possible to ignore the man. he was relentless! he just wouldn’t stop talking and making gross comments. you look up from your phone to find your girlfriend pushing her way to you, through the couples grinding against eachother and making out. she smiles as she approaches you, then wrapping her arm around your shoulders. you lean against her. “so, who’re you?” she asks as she looks at the man, then tossing him an icy glare. “who am i? why should i answer you?” the man had a raised eyebrow and he’d been holding a now empty cup. “well, cause you’re hitting on my girl. so you should probably tell me why you’re doing all this.” her voice was low, raspy and a bit threatening. her possessiveness was dumb attractive, and you surely felt a little hot!!! “hah, this is your girl? she’s outta your league, bro. just give ‘er up. ill treat ‘er soo much better.” the man had become bold. abby didn’t like that. “mm.. nah. she’s fine with me. aren’t you, baby?” she asks as she looks at you. you nod with a small, stupid smile on your face. she presses a kiss on your forehead before she looks back at the man.

her touch had lingered on your skin even when you knew she wasn’t touching you. she sits on one of the chairs with a sigh and you sit next to her. “god, people are so disgusting!” abby said as she lets out an exasperated sigh. she hated when people treated you that way. but you just couldn’t seem to forget that voice she spoke in. the raspiness made this sorta electricity shoot through your veins. she was rambling about something, but you’d began listening when she’d been nearly finished speaking “—that shit wasn’t okay, and nobody should be treating my girl like that. i mean, gosh, some people just really can’t take a hint can they? i was so close to punching him just like id done that other guy but i controlled myself. and, ill just say, it isn’t your fault. i just really don’t like that. you don’t deserve that. not at all.” her voice softens towards the end of her sentence as she places her hand on your thigh gently.

your hand finds itself over hers and you smile at her. “sometimes you gotta punch people for ‘em to understand, yknow?” abby says as she looked at you with the same softened gaze. “abby, no, i will absolutely not be punching anyone… that’s what i have you for. and you hit like, waaaaay harder.” you chuckled. “well, maybe i should show you how to hit real hard.” you shrug, and she smiles at you, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “how bout we get outta this shithole?” she suggested with a smile. “oh, yeah. let’s go. im literally starving!” the both of you nod as you begin walking off the porch. as you walk to the sidewalk, the guy from earlier comes running and stumbling out of the house. he was after abby. you noticed and alerted her. “oh shit, we’d better run!” she grabs your hand and the both of you run to her car, giggling and looking back at the man (whos running slow as a snail) and forward at her car.

[danikamariewrites]

requesting a Xaden fic with MAJOR anger vibes but comfort at the end bc I need happiness!! maybe jealous trope or one goes to break up for safety matters idk!!

Jealous Boy

Xaden x reader

A/n: I made this jealous/protective Xaden with a hint of anger in there and of course it ends in fluff

Warnings: angst

Xaden wouldn’t describe himself as jealous or insecure when it came to his relationship with you. But he couldn’t help his emotions when he saw you with another boy in your year, Bryson.

He never wanted to step on your toes or be controlling. You’re your own person and he didn’t want to be the crazy boyfriend. But, his gut was telling him that Bryson wasn’t truly your friend.

As Xaden walked down the hall he saw you, Rhi, Liam, and Bryson on your way to lunch. You were all laughing and he smiled. Your laugh is infectious and it made him unbelievably happy.

His smile quickly turned into a frown as Bryson caressed your shoulder. He noticed the uncomfortable expression that flashed on your face as your eyes watched his hand. You shrug him off and the four of you go back to your conversation. Why didn’t you say something? He though to himself.

Sgaeyl clears her throat in his mind, “Don’t leave her with him Riorson. Go to her.” At her command Xaden’s pace quickens.

He shoves in next to you, pushing Bryson to walk behind the group. Xaden drapes his arm around you, “Hi sweetheart.” His the corner of his lip curves upward as you look up at him, relief washing over you. “Hi babe.” You wrap your arms around his middle and he kisses the top of your head.

Xaden throws Bryson a glare while your face is buried in his chest. It promises a painful death if he ever touches you again.

A little over a week later Xaden had some free time, so he set out to find you. You were in one of the study halls with Rhi and Liam, books spread out on the table in front of you. You were all relaxed in the worn leather armchairs until Liam sat up, spotting Bryson making his way over.

He sat on the arm of your chair. You clearly didn’t want him there as he made himself comfortable. Liam’s eyes lock with Xaden’s. Liam could tell Xaden was furious. He started beckoning Xaden over with slight head movements and his eyes, begging him to make Bryson leave.

Xaden had brought him up to Liam a few nights ago, asking why he wouldn’t leave you alone. Usually Liam keeps an eye on you for Xaden, protecting you when he couldn’t. “I tell him she’s with you all the time and to back off but he won’t listen to me.” Liam had said. Xaden didn’t like that answer. He made sure to try and be around more to scare Bryson off, but clearly his presence wasn’t enough for this asshole.

You notice Liam looking over your shoulder and turn to see who was behind you. As soon as you spot Xaden you smile. Thank Gods! You kept meaning to tell him about Bryson bothering you. You were fed up with being and nice and by the look on Xaden’s face you knew he was done too. Xaden gives you a tight nod as his eyes narrow on the back of Bryson’s head.

Bryson moves his hand from his lap to play with the ends of your ponytail. You freeze at the unwanted touch. Rhi let’s out a sigh through her teeth, “You better let go of her dude.” Before he can process what Rhi said to him Xaden grabbed him by the shoulder, ripping him off your armchair.

“I never. Want to see you around her again.” His scowl looked like a menacing dragons. If you didn’t know he was human, you’d expect him to start spitting fire at any moment. He pulled Bryson roughly by the front of his shirt, “Do you understand me? You ever bother her again you’re dead.”

Bryson looked like he was about to wet himself, finally being met with Xaden’s anger was terrifying. He nods like his head is about to fall off. He stumbles over his words and Xaden pushes him away. Bryson trips over his feet as he rushes out of the study hall.

You stand up, flinging your arms around Xaden. “Thank you.” He wraps an arm around your waist, bringing his other hand up to cradle the back of your head. “Are you ok?” “Yeah, I’m good.” Xaden sits in your chair, pulling you into his lap.

You rest your head on his shoulder, leaving a few pecks on the side of his neck. With Bryson gone everyone let’s out a sigh of relief. Your little group falls into easy conversation and you relax against Xaden. Happy he’s holding you, safe in his arms.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris

[pansy-picnics]

Sorry but your recent artwork has me thinking about parent Varigo and I have to dump my thoughts somewhere. I feel like, if they actually had a kid it would be really emotional for them but in different ways. Varian finds out he’s pregnant and is a little scared at first, but he actually adjusts to the idea pretty fast and is excited about it, because he’s in a good place now and has a good support system. He doesn’t have to worry about his family judging him, he knows they’ll still see him for who he is. Hugo on the other hand is terrified. But not because he doesn’t wanna be a dad, he’s pretty excited about that, he’s just really scared that Varian is going to get sick from the pregnancy, or that the whole experience is gonna be too much for him. He feels like this is just another thing he’s “putting Varian through” because he’s still not quite over the guilt of his betrayal years ago, and now it’s coming back to haunt him. They work it out of course and Hugo realizes that it’s gonna be okay and that he also can depend on Varian’s family for support because they’re his family too. Now I’m emotional. Anyway I love your art <3

AUGHHHH YEAH YEAH THIS IS SO REAL!!!!! i love plots like that fr, their characters are so fun to explore😭😭😭 Honestly? i think in the right circumstances hugo could be a deadbeat dad. like he could just straight up leave bc he’s paranoid varian or the kid would get hurt or he’d put them in danger or something. he’s the kind of guy who’s always Running! like i could think of scenarios where he’d run away on their wedding day too. those are both horrible extremes SORRY FOR THE ANGST I JUST THINK IT’S NEAT.

i think hugo’s always WANTED a family but its something she’s always viewed as unachievable, mostly bc of the shitty living situation hes been in for most of his life. she could barely survive on her own and she’d never want to drag someone else into that yk? and she’s still scared of that commitment even after she moves into the castle, bc what if she DID have a kid and then something happened and she couldn’t take care of them anymore, or she ends up on the streets again….and what if she just ends up abandoning them? what if she’s no better than the parents she never even knew? it’s like, obviously she wouldn’t do any of those things or be in those situations but she has….a Lot of anxiety around it for sure. but i also think that she tries to adopt literally every orphan she and varian see. she LOVES kids as much as she pretends she doesn’t and its very obvious….she just hasn’t really had the privilege to be able to think about it until now.

varian…i think he goes either way, he doesn’t really plan to have kids but he’ll kinda learn to adjust to whatever, he’s also just a very family oriented guy so he’s definitely not opposed to that kind of role. in my head they usually adopt bc i think varian like, Hates anything related to the human body at all so even disregarding the gender dysphoria pregnancy is SO gross to him. idk why i just think he’s silly like that. hell make bombs and poisonous chemicals but he remembers people have organs and he wants to throw up. i’m not opposed to the idea of them having biological kids at all though…especially considering all the art i’ve already drawn for it’s us against the world LOL. personally i think even if he weren’t opposed to the idea he’d be miserable the entire time, and not even like in a serious way necessarily he’s just REALLY mad that he can’t work in the lab anymore. he’s pissed about EVERYTHING, actually. he’s bored and he’s tired and he can’t work and he feels like shit and he doesn’t really have any other hobbies either. his whole life and routine has been completely fucked over for nine months and SURE he loves the kid and he’s excited but like why does it need to be in there that long. why can’t it just come from the stork or something. 🙄/j

i think he might pick a few fights with hugo bc of it, just because he’s so overwhelmed and emotional and doesn’t know how to handle it, but hugo’s really understanding; also they’ll honestly take any kind of treatment from him because they’re like, “Yeah i probably deserved that”. which varian does NOT like btw and always gets on his ass later to stick up for himself more while also in tears apologizing for yelling at him

idk i just think them as parents would be Sooo silly. neither of them have any clue what they’re doing. dude if those two had a baby? Dude can you imagine? varian’s sooo fucking sheltered i think he’s only interacted with like, 2 babies in his entire life. quirin stays with them for tje first few weeks bc varian literally just has NO clue what he’s doing and is crying to him all the time. and hugo like, has an idea of what to do but he’s also SUPER paranoid. they’re both just staring at the kid while they sleep not so much out of adoration but because they’re just terrified they’ll stop breathing at any moment. you cant convince me that either of them know how to change a diaper. They’re gonna bring out like full lab gear. like the gag where the dads will pull out full hazmat suits for the diaper change. That’s them idc

ruddiger is also SO protective of their kids from the moment they’re born, like he jumps up into the crib and snuggles up with them and they always IMMEDIATELY stop crying. olivia is the opposite. she’s kinda like a toddler who just got a new sibling she didn’t want. shes pissed that she isn’t getting hugo’s full attention and keeps being a brat about it. hugo’s just trying to calm down his baby and olivias glaring at him while she’s about to push a glass off the table

yeah idk i. have a lot of thoughts abt them too they’re so beloved to me

[spidersbane]

your thoughts are loud

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x reader

summary: you, padme’s top advisor, can’t sleep, and neither can obi-wan. 

warnings: none

author’s note: i disappeared off the face of the planet for over a year bc i was in my first year of law school. somehow i survived and realized i needed a hobby. so i’m revisiting my writing and dumping this here. please be gentle, i haven’t seen the prequels in a while bc my friends won’t watch them with me, and i haven’t seen the show yet either. also would anyone like this to become a series? where it’s this kind of pining but with other characters in different fandoms? pls let me know bc I’d love the feedback. much love. 

suggested listening: ‘moonlight serenade’ by glenn miller 

“Your thoughts are loud.” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice, posh as ever but a little rough some sleep. “I didn’t mean to wake you. And what are you doing in my thoughts?” The question came out with a laugh, knowing Obi-Wan well enough that he wouldn’t get in your head without permission.

He looks down and chuckles softly. “You didn’t wake me. I couldn’t sleep, and I just heard them.”

“Dare I ask why you couldn’t sleep?” You slid over on the small stone bench, trying to make some room for him. 

He cocked his head slightly, pondering, almost hesitating. But he walked over to you and sat down, tugging his robes closer around him. “Anakin, mostly. Concerns for Padme, sometimes.” A whisper, “concerns for you.” 

You tried to shut your thoughts out. You couldn’t, however, helped the heat that rose to your cheeks. “Concerns about me?” 

“Yes, concerns for you,” he said. “I know how the Senators are with you.” He folded his hands in on one another in his lap. ‘And I don’t like how they are with you.” 

You sighed, finally looking at him, seeing his eyes trained downward, not chancing a look at you. “Obi-Wan, they’re Senators, it’s to be expected. Things are going sideways fast, and they’re all just doing what they can to try and manage it. And sometimes, it just happens to get let out onto others.” 

“I don’t like it when it gets let out on you. Especially because I can’t say anything to them.” 

He glanced towards you, then upward, focusing on the limited night sky above him. Somehow, you managed to look at him, though, tracing the sharp curve of his jaw, the soft structure of his cheekbone. Although your shoulders touched, you wanted to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, on his cheek, on something. But you didn’t, and frankly you couldn’t. Even the night’s spell couldn’t make you forget his status as a Jedi Master or yours as Padme’s advisor. Your respective positions had rules, a Code that kept you from one another. But It didn’t keep the others in your charge from one another, you thought.

Padme and Anakin were careful, but you and Obi-Wan knew them better, and knew it hadn’t taken long for them to start seeing each other. In fact, on the few missions to Naboo when the Jedi visited, you often stood as cover for Anakin, ready with a plausible story for when Obi-Wan came asking. You talked Padme through the ups and downs of being with a Jedi, through the long periods of not seeing each other. And she spoke with you about Obi-Wan, not one to be lost on forlorn looks and wishful thinking. Being friends for so long gave her an insight into your thoughts, and knew how your tied your fingers together when Obi-Wan was near, how you could never look him in the eye when he looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. 

It took one look for her to read your thoughts, and it was on a night like this, when you sat out in the open with Obi-Wan, where you were grateful he didn’t read yours. Because you reached for him, a gentle hand on his arm, drawing his skyward gaze back to you, looking at you like he pulled some of the stars from of the sky with him. “But I know you would say something if you could, and that’s enough.” 

He reached for you too, a shaky hand holding your own, cerulean eyes locked with yours. “But it isn’t enough.” 

“Obi-Wan, I …” 

“It isn’t enough,” he said, grip tightening around your hand. “It isn’t enough, because I can’t tell them to leave you alone without them wondering what a Jedi wants with you. I can’t say anything because then I’ll come out sounding like Anakin and they’ll all wonder where the professional version of me went.” 

He turned to you fully, reaching for your empty hand with his remaining one. He leans in closer, and you mirror him, afraid that if you don’t, then his words will escape into thin air and it’ll be as if you never heard him. And he needs you to hear him, to understand. 

He continued, “And then they’d know that the professional version of me never exists around you. That something changes, and I don’t know how to describe it.” 

You shook out a breath, terrified of moving too suddenly. He can sense your nervousness, you know he does, when he starts circling his thumb gently across your knuckles. Your eyes dart between his eyes, looking for any sign of his confession being a joke, some cruel joke. But there’s nothing there, except the calmest gaze, the warmest shade of blue searching your eyes for a reaction. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

I love you, your heart screamed. 

“Obi-Wan, that means, well, more than I can put into words. But the thoughts are there,” you paused. “If you want to feel for them.” 

It’s the first time you’ve offered something like that to him, something that personal to anyone. You can see the hesitation, but it doesn’t take you long to feel him, tendrils of his Force signature wrapping around your mind. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his reaction when he reaches the part of your mind that yearns for him, that aches. He’s there for a while, strolling through, taking his time with you, and it’s in this hike through your mind, that he wishes you could see into his more. 

After a pregnant pause, he squeezes your hand, leading you out of your haze, eyes crawling back open. When he sharpens into focus, there’s a content, mischievous smile creeping up his face; his shoulders relax, and you don’t need to be Force sensitive to feel the utter relief radiating from him. You both have finally gotten a lifetime’s worth of confessions off your chest. And where it goes from here, neither of you know.  But this is different, and you aren’t afraid of finding out. 

The beginnings of dawn creep over the horizon, spilling streams of gold light onto both of you, where you both remember that other Jedi might be beginning to stir. So you stand, hands still intertwined, and you pull him up with you. 

“We have to go,” you begin. “Before someone sees.” 

He smiles, a full smile now. “Let’s get you back to bed then.”

It’s a silent walk back to your quarters in the Senate building, and Obi-Wan holds your hand the whole time, not even starting to drop it when you think someone is going to round a corner and spot you. He’s unafraid, and so are you, and it’s so unlike either of you, but in the early light, neither of you have it in your to care. When he stops at your door, you both fight smiles and whisper proper goodnights, and you force the want of him staying the rest of the night back down your throat.

When you are finally back in your quarters, as disheveled as they are, curtains still drawn tight, you will to him a promise of ‘later, you’ll find me later’. And it is a whisper, a fleeting feeling through your mind, but you know it’s him willing back, ‘I’ll always find you.’ 

[btsgotjams27]

this is us ~ jjk | 18

you're dreading the meeting in LA, but it's a big city. you're not gonna bump into jungkook, are you?

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, best friend's brother ✨ playlist | ✨ if you haven't read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) ✨ a/n: naurrrr--this means the series will be ending soon, but yesss---jk and oc will finally come face to face after a year apart! how will it go down? what's gonna happen? 👀 ✨ a/n 2: thank you to those who have sent in words for the little game. those words will be in bold throughout the rest of the chapters. we still have a podcast episode to celebrate the end of this story and you'll be able to send in questions and comments (a form link will be up when i post the last chapter :')) i'll also have a survey for y'all too :) as always, please leave a like, reblog, send an ask. i'd love to hear your thoughts.

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ drabble ~ dream bigger, darling

chapter eighteen ~ you're seeing things, aren't you? | wc: 10.9k warnings: there will be a lot of talking, mild language, oc’s friends being loveable dummies, light insecurity, heart flutters, language, drinking, sleazy slimeballs, some touching, a slap to the face, unresolved feelings, insecure jk & oc, bamie is hereeee, love confessions, our babies are growing up and taking things slow, they both get on their knees (you'll understand why when u read), delicate first kiss that turns into a heated one, they're both h*rny but remember they're taking thing slow, smol erection bc hello they're together again, jk is tame and controls himself?? (WHUTTTT) but oc needs a lil bit more from him, bittersweet goodbyes (for now)

The impending meeting was coming up at the end of the week. Your agent, Jae, wouldn't take no for an answer and immediately responded to the Netflix executive, saying you’d take the meeting. If the meeting was anywhere else in the world, you wouldn’t hesitate, but the fact that you had to fly out to LA for this made you feel reluctant.

And when everyone heard you’d be in LA, the only topic of conversation was if you were planning to see he-who-must-not-be-named.

"Will you tell Jungkook you're in town?" Hyunie asked as she cut through her French toast covered in Nutella and strawberries. Taehyung leaned over to take a bite from her fork, but she refused to let him have any.

Yoongi sat, wavering his fingers together. “Oh—the plot thickens. Dun, dun, dun.”

He’d become too comfortable knowing your business and complained that he knew too much for his own good. He was cool with you, but his lifestyle was too chill to mesh with everyone else’s dramatics, including yours. Though he works in the movie business, that didn’t mean he wanted his life to be like a goddamn drama.

“Wouldn’t that be weird? To meet up with an ex?” you asked with reluctance as you searched your friend’s faces for any words of advice.

It’d be nice to catch up, you thought, but what if old feelings resurface? Then what? You’d be screwed and have to start from square one again. You had gotten too far to return to the sad, pathetic person you once were.

Hyunie interjects, “Of course not! You’re friends too.”

You deadpanned. “I haven’t spoken to him in over a year–and I’d hardly call us friends.”

Honestly, could you even go back to being just friends? How were you supposed to be friends with your ex-slash-best-friends-little-brother? How can anyone return to being just friends after being with someone like Jeon Jungkook? You could hardly keep your friends now and then to add an ex as a friend? It sounded like a recipe for disaster.

With a mouth full of strawberries, Tae threw in his two cents. “Just go see him. What’s the worst that can happen? You gonna sleep with him?” He smirked and grabbed another bright red strawberry. This conversation amused him for days, making smart comments and occasionally alluding to what the two of you used to have.

“Really, Tae?” You rolled your eyes, sipping your coffee. You’d like to think you had some kind of self-control.

“What? I’m just being realistic here. The two of you probably have all that pent-up sexual frustration, and who knows—you might not be able to contain yourselves if you’re in the same room.” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows and then bit down his bottom lip, thrusting and slapping the air while in his seat. Hyunie elbowed him in his rib, causing him to groan at the pain. She whispered something indistinct to him, and the two bickered quietly.

You turned to Yoongi. He was always wise and had the right answers. “What should I do?”

You interrupted him just as he was about to sip his coffee. His lips thinned, and he stared blankly at you. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re the most unbiased person here, and you don’t know Jungkook like we do.”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t know. Do whatever you want. If you want to see him, go see him. If you don’t, then don’t. It’s as simple as that.”

Everyone turned their attention to you, wondering how you’d respond. It wasn't as simple as Yoongi had said. The weight of your previous relationship with Jungkook wasn’t one where you could simply put it behind you and pretend like you could be friends again. There was too much history, too much hurt—just too much of everything. You tried to convince yourself for months that there were no more feelings.

And you had made so much progress, minus being upset when you heard he was in town—but regardless, you had moved on, and seeing Jungkook again could set you back a few steps.

Yoongi set down his knife and fork and turned to you. “You’re a big girl, and you’ve worked through a lot of things, and if you don’t think you can handle seeing him again, then don’t put yourself in that situation. I'm sure he’d understand.”

“Or—or—you could just fuc—”

Hyunie covered Taehyung’s mouth, muffling the rest of his sentence. “Don’t listen to my crazy husband. Do what you think is best for you, okay?”

After brunch with the crazy lovebirds, you sat in Yoongi’s car, staring aimlessly out the window, and said nothing the entire car ride.

As he pulled up to your apartment complex, you needed to ask him again. “Tell me the truth. What would you do in my position?”

He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. He knew you needed reassurance, but honestly, there was no right answer for this situation.

“Well, considering that I’ve gotten to know you over this past year, I'd say that it’s gonna eat at you day and night if you don’t reach out to him. You’ll wonder, ‘what could’ve been’ or ‘what if I did X, Y, and Z?’ You’re good at compartmentalizing, but I have a feeling ten years down the line, you’re gonna be upset at yourself. So, I don’t know, as I said earlier if you want to see him, go see him. If you don’t, then don’t. Whatever you choose will be the right decision.”

But what was the right decision? You thought of all the possible scenarios that could play out. What if you call to meet up, and he doesn’t want to? Or what if you meet up and it’s awkward? Or what if you meet up and old feelings resurface?

You were thankful for Yoongi and glad he could always be honest with you. With his advice in consideration, along with everyone else’s minus Kim Taehyung’s, you pondered your next move as you tossed and turned in bed.

Should you try and meet up with Jungkook? But you were doing so well. You had deleted his number, photos, and texts, and if you wanted his new number, you’d have to ask Yuna, and you wouldn’t hear the end of it from her if you did.

Maybe it’d be easier to just not try to see him. You were sure he was doing well, living in LA, doing whatever he was doing, seeing whomever he wanted. You just didn’t want to return to feeling insecure and vulnerable, and you had worked so hard to be where you are today. Maybe it’d be better if you didn’t tell him you were in town.

A non-stop flight from Seoul to LA was close to eleven hours, but you wished it was longer. The lower the flight time, the higher your anxiety rises. Los Angeles was a big city, and there was no way you’d bump into Jungkook, right? That’s a ridiculous thought to have. You’d have a higher chance of bumping into a celebrity than your ex. You were just psyching yourself out at this point, and there was no need to because you decided not to tell him you’d be in town.

After eleven hours on a flight and only six hours of sleep, you hoped you’d bump into no one. Your swollen ankles and puffy eyes were horrendous for anyone to see. But here you were—in Los Angeles, where many dreams came to fruition or never saw the light of day, and you were hoping for the latter, whatever that dream may be. You were curious about what Netflix had to offer and if it would require you to move here. Though, you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, thinking about the what-ifs because nothing was set in stone.

Being a huge corporation, Netflix paid for everything—the flight, hotel, and transportation. Not too shabby, especially since they were trying to woo you into whatever job this was. They booked a corner suite at the Conrad Los Angeles, overlooking the city's skyline. The hustle and bustle of city life were similar but different from Seoul and could possibly be a place where you’d have to get used to.

The luxe Mercedes Benz E-Class you were sitting in pulled up behind the slew of cars from other hotel guests. This felt too fancy from anything you were used to, but you weren’t complaining.

You bid your driver farewell and thanked them as he pulled your luggage from the trunk and set it beside you. Just as you grabbed the handle, a driver behind you honked, gesturing for you to move out of the way. You jumped back, your heart racing as the loud horn continued in short outbursts until you stepped onto the hotel’s sidewalk.

God, this city sucks already, you thought, and you hadn’t even been here for that long, either. Brushing off the awful interaction, you breathed a big breath, ready to take on whatever this trip had in store for you.

“Miss? I’ll need a form of ID and a credit card to put on file.”

You handed what the front desk receptionist needed from you. Now, you understood all the buzz and why this was the hot spot. The hotel was gorgeous and a great place to hang out, even if you weren’t a guest.

As the receptionist input your information, your eyes scanned the lobby, taking everything in. A rowdy group of men exited one of the hotel restaurants, entering the lobby. You noticed a man in a monochromatic cream-colored outfit. You appreciate a man who was put together.

After catching a glimpse of him, you could’ve sworn your eyes were deceiving you. No, it wasn’t him. You were seeing things, weren’t you?

This city was far too big for you to end up at the same hotel as your ex-boyfriend, right? Destiny was definitely being a prude and playing tricks on you.

“Here’s your ID and card back. You’re located on the 16th floor, room 1613.”

“Thank you.”

When you grabbed your ID, card, and luggage, you turned around to ensure you were imagining things. The group of men had disappeared and was nowhere to be found. But you shouldn’t be looking for Jungkook anyway. You decided not to tell him you were in town. Wouldn’t you look pathetic going back on your word?

But instead of going directly to your room, you might have ‘taken the long route,’ cruising through the hotel—just to see what they had to offer. Though, who were you kidding? That person definitely looked like Jungkook! Except he had longer hair, and you hadn’t seen any recent photos of Jungkook, so you had no idea if he had shaved his head or had long, glorious hair like Rapunzel.

You would’ve lurked longer, but now you felt super creepy and stalker-ish, and your large rollaway luggage wasn’t helping either. Maybe it was time to give up; you had been looking longer than you should’ve.

If there was one thing that could possibly make up for the shitty interaction from the furious man honking away like there was no tomorrow—it was the view. The city skyline and clear blue skies with only a few scattered marshmallow-type clouds floating around.

The room was too big for just one person, and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself to kill time before your big meeting. So, you quickly freshen up to roam around the five-star hotel. You had nothing better to do, save for the fact that you needed to find that guy again, just to make sure it wasn’t Jungkook.

And as you expected, this hotel was packed with people. The restaurant's decor and view were stunning, to say the least. You didn’t want to keep going back and forth between the various choices of restaurants, so you stuck with the first place you saw, Agua Viva.

A small commotion turned your head; your eyes focused on it for a split second before returning your attention to the host. You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. Yes, a seat at the bar is great. Thank you.”

You scanned the drink menu, pondering the various choices before you. Alcohol or no alcohol—such a hard decision. Well, considering you were going to an important meeting, it was probably best not to be tipsy, or it could calm your nerves.

“Hello, miss. What’ll you have?”

It was a toss-up between the Tornup Tiki Punch or Flamingo Shuttle. What silly names they were.

“I’ll have a Flamingo Shuttle, please.”

Non-alcoholic it is.

“One Flamingo Shuttle coming right up.”

You tapped on the square napkin before you, swiveling your chair back and forth, taking in the surroundings of light laughter and chatter, before returning your attention to the bartender making your drink.

In a city of 3.8 million people, it was stupid to think you had seen Jungkook. Maybe you just wanted it to be him and desperately tried to speak it into existence. You probably had a better chance of bumping into a Kardashian than Jeon Jungkook.

“Is this seat taken?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before turning around to confirm your suspicions about the familiar voice.

It’s like time stood still; everything and everyone quieted down, and it was only you and him. He was like a stranger from a different lifetime staring back at you, but everything you felt while with him came rushing back like a flood.

“Jungkook.” His name rolled off your lips in a familiar way you couldn’t explain. It had such a hold on you, pulling you right back like a lovesick puppy.

“Noona,” he said with his big brown, doe eyes crinkling in the corner, along with a bunny smile.

The one word made you clench around nothing, but it’s just a word–what’s wrong with you? Honestly, woman.

“Is this seat taken?” He repeated, making you come back to reality.

“No, it’s yours if you’d like.”

You watched his every move. His hand held your stool, and his thumb lightly brushed against your back as he sat down. Immediately, you straighten your posture in case of any other accidental touches.

Jungkook crossed his arms on the counter, turning to you. The both of you smiled awkwardly, waiting for someone to say something.

“I thought I saw you,” the both of you said in unison and chuckled after.

“It’s me,” you scrunch your nose, flashing a smile.

Jungkook shook his head, copying your smile. “I thought I was going crazy for a split second. Wha–” he paused to let his mind catch up with his words. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for a meeting.”

He nodded. “Oh. It must be an important meeting if you flew all the way out here.”

You hummed. “Yeah, it’s pretty important.”

Should you spare more details? Or just leave it at the bare minimum? You didn’t want him to conjure up any ideas as you had been for the last few weeks.

“Your Flamingo Shuttle, miss. Would you like to bill it to your room?”

“Yes, please.” If Netflix was paying, you were drinking.

You lightly groaned after taking a sip, not realizing you’d been thirsty after flying all day, or was it Jungkook’s presence making you feel suddenly parched?

“Anything for you, sir?” The bartender asked Jungkook, to which he shook his head no.

“It’s good to see you,” Jungkook said as the bartender left to attend to another guest.

Your crossed leg unintentionally touched his pant leg when you turned toward him. You took your time letting your eyes gaze over this new Jeon Jungkook. His permed hair had grown longer, and a fringe was swept softly across his left eye. The piercing that adorned his eyebrow had disappeared, and the only thing decorating that pretty face was a lip piercing.

“It’s really good to see you too. You look great, by the way. I love the long hair. It really suits you.” You couldn’t help but wonder how his hair would feel entangled between your fingers.

He proceeded to touch the ends. “Thanks. You–you always look great,” he chuckled lightly.

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment as you suppressed a smile. “Thanks. I–um, do you have time to catch up? If you’re not busy, that is, but if you are, then please feel free to go. I don’t–I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

“I have some time,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes and his tiny dimple on display.

Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as you made it in your head. You were overanalyzing nothing. Jungkook seemed happy to see you, even though you thought he’d be running in the other direction, considering he had left on a whim.

“Um, do you work around here?”

“Yeah, I was just getting some early drinks with my colleagues.”

Your mind immediately went to Alex, which you fucking hated, but you couldn’t help it. Obviously, she wasn’t with the group of him and rowdy men, but you assumed they still worked together, and who knew in what kind of capacity–or maybe she had him eating in the palm of her hands again.

You stopped the ongoing conversation in your head. It wasn’t good for anyone if this continued.

“This is a great place. I can see why you’d come here.” He hummed in agreement. “How–how are you? How’s everything?”

Jungkook cleared his throat, interlocking his hands together, light tapping his thumb on the other. “It’s good. I’m—good. Work has been going well. I, uh—I’ve taken up running along with boxing, but Bam–he’s a handful.”

“Bam?”

“Yeah! My dog.”

“You have a dog?”

“He’s still a pup, but he’s getting so big already.” Jungkook pulled his phone from his back pocket, scrolling to find a photo of Bam. “See.” He set his phone on the counter, pushing it to you.

“Oh, my god. He’s precious! He has big doe eyes like his dad,” your mouth curved into a smile. “He’s perfect for you.”

Jungkook cleared his throat, pressing the off button on his phone. “How are you? What’s new?”

His question was so broad you weren’t sure where to start. He obviously knew about your meeting but didn’t know what it was for. But how much information would you feel comfortable divulging?

“I’m good.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I just got back from a solo trip, and then this whole LA thing happened, and now I’m here.”

“Ah–right. Yuna told me about your trip. How was it? Did you enjoy yourself?”

You nodded. “It was great. I practically laid out on the beach most of the time, got some sun in,” you smiled and shrugged. “And what about you? I heard you were back in Seoul for a little bit.”

He hummed. “Yeah, for my mom’s birthday dinner, and I finally got to meet Indie.”

“Ugh, I love that little booger,” you chimed in.

“She’s amazing, and she’s growing up so fast.”

“Right? She grew up in a blink of an eye.”

Then you realized Jungkook had missed most, if not the entirety, of Indie's first year. Time had passed, and you had also grown and blossomed without your awareness in the midst of it all.

Jungkook beamed a soft smile.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?” you asked again, searching for the bartender.

He shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Positive?” You gave him a look.

He nodded. “Still trying to take care of me?”

“Well–I am older than you.”

Jungkook chuckled and turned away for a moment. “I, uh, already had some earlier, remember? So, I shouldn’t have anymore.”

“What? You can’t hold your liquor anymore, old man?” you teased.

He scoffed at your lame joke. “Are you taunting me?”

It almost felt like old times when you were just friends, ragging on each other.

You sipped your drink before answering, “Yes.”

He flashed a close-lipped smile. “Can I take a rain check?”

You hummed lightly. “You got it.”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck and swiveled in his chair, lightly brushing his knee against yours. “Do you have my new number?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. No, because you recently deleted all his contact, texts, and photos. You shook your head.

He held out his hand, wavering his fingers for your phone. You gave it over without hesitation and watched as he saved his number. “Call me if you need anything or want to get that drink before you leave.”

He handed it back, his fingers softly touching yours. “I should go. I left Bam too long by himself.”

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest and onto the counter, your stomach fluttering with a swarm of butterflies and the bead of sweat on the nape of your neck finally caressing your skin when he touched you. “Yeah, sure, of course.” You nervously scratched your temple. “I, uh, I should get going too. I have my meeting soon.”

Jungkook smiled and stood, and you followed suit. He stepped back, straightening his cream-colored jacket and smoothing down his pants. “I’ll talk to you soon?”

You weren’t sure if he really meant it or if it was just an expression. Either way, you didn’t want to put more meaning into it than needed. You smiled and hummed.

He stepped away, waving his hand before walking off into the sea of people who just entered the restaurant.

You half expected him to look back, but he didn’t. He was calm, cool, and collected as he confidently walked away, making you think he was over you.

Jungkook sat in his Uber, pinching himself to ensure he wasn’t dreaming–that he really saw you and had a conversation, and it wasn’t as awkward as he thought it would be. Unless it was awkward, and he invented a fictitious scenario in his head, misunderstood your body language, and misinterpreted your words.

“Sir?”

“Oh, uh, sorry. Yes, you can drop me off right here.” Jungkook’s mind raced back and forth, replaying the conversation.

He closed the car’s door, shuffling to the apartment complex’s gate. He punched in the code, rushing to his place to let Bam out.

The 50-pound puppy popped his head up, panting and wagging his tail as he saw his owner. Bam sprung to his feet and dashed over to Jungkook, smelling and licking his palm more than normal.

“I know, Bamie. I know.”

Jungkook smelled different. He must’ve had the faintest smell of you on him.

“Come on, boy. You’ve been waiting for me for too long.”

Bam whined when Jungkook’s mind was on something else and did not notice him. He was scratching Bam’s belly, staring off into space with nothing but you on his mind. It’s like you had completely taken over him like you were his paradise, and even if he tried to resist, it was probably useless now. He could never escape you.

Should he go back to the hotel? Would that seem too needy? He thought he was trying to get over you, but here you were, right in front of him, practically within reach—no ocean between the two of you. If now wasn’t the time, then when?

Was he prepared to fight for you? To be with you again? Was he ready for you to reject him if he wanted more, but you didn’t?

He sighed, fighting with himself for his next move. Whatever his decision, he wanted to ensure it was the right one. The real question was—did he want to be with you again after all this time?

The answer was yes—it has always been yes. You’re it. You’ve ruined him—it will always be you.

He was so close to getting in his car and driving back. Every cell in his body was urging him to go and confess his undying love—that is, until he remembered he ran away, that he hurt you.

What if you had moved on but didn't want him to know? He had no right to delve into your business anymore. What if you had moved on with that Yoongi guy? He'd heard that guy's name too many times from Yuna and Taehyung for him not to suspect anything was up with the two of you. You looked so happy with Yoongi that one time he saw you. Maybe he was the cause of your euphoria, the person you spent all your time with, the person you dreamed with, shared your hopes with—maybe you had fully closed the chapter that Jungkook was a part of, and Yoongi was the ‘take two’ of your story.

But could Jungkook just be a foolish dreamer? Thinking he still had a chance with you?

He'd given you his phone number, and the ball was now in your court. If you wanted to, then you’d contact him. Otherwise, perhaps it's best that he's not constantly chasing you. If you still wanted him, then you needed to let him know, and if you didn’t, then maybe he could finally try to let you go.

You checked yourself one last time, smoothing out your tailored skirt and matching blazer. You wished you had chosen another pair of heels, but your nude slingbacks were the only things you packed, so it’d have to suffice. With a swipe of your raspberry lip tint, you were now ready to charm whoever this executive was.

The hostess led you through the restaurant to a private dining lounge. A few guests were scattered far and wide while light jazz music and laughter filled your ears. Were all Netflix meetings always this fancy? You had looked up the menu beforehand, and the prices were somewhat reasonable for dinner, but you’d be fine with instant ramen from the convenience store. You could probably order the whole menu if you wanted since you weren't paying.

“Mr. Wells will be here shortly,” the hostess smiled, leaving you at the table as you mindlessly fiddled with your thumbs.

You wondered how your name even landed on the desk or email of someone across the ocean. Or could Jae just be a great writing agent, and he just had his connections? Maybe you’d find out during this dinner.

A waitress stopped by the table, bringing glasses of water and a bottle of Champagne.

“Oh–I didn’t order this.”

“Mr. Wells did. He wanted to apologize in advance for his lateness. He’s held up in traffic at the moment.” The waitress poured the champagne into two tall flutes.

Fifteen minutes went by as you sat waiting for this Netflix exec. He was already leaving a bad taste in your mouth because of his lateness, but it’s not like you had any other plans.

You scanned the room, watching others converse and eat before pulling out your phone. You went to your contacts and scrolled down to Jungkook’s name. It was like deja vu all over again–staring aimlessly at his name, whether or not to delete it or keep it. Only this time, he would hopefully pick up the call.

You were tempted to text him to see what he was up to. Considering it was a Friday night, he was probably out with friends, maybe Jimin or a girlfriend. You’d heard from Taehyung that they hung out fairly often. At least he had a friendly face in this city.

A low, husky voice said your name, making you look up from your phone. The man standing before you was not someone you pictured. If you had all the confidence in the world, you’d whistle and holler at this Park Seo Joon look alike.

“I’m Zachary Wells, but just call me Zach.” He grinned as he quickly scanned your face and held out his hand. You stood to shake it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you and your work,” Zach said, gesturing for the both of you to sit.

“You have?”

“Whenever Kenji is in town, you’re all he ever talks about.”

Ah, Kenji. You should’ve known. Well, you supposed one of your exes was good for something.

Zach grabbed the attention of the waitress. “Should we order dinner? I’m starving.”

The two of you had a lot in common. Zach was fairly easy to talk to and was a chatterbox. But just like Kenji, Zach was avoiding why he had wanted to meet you in the first place.

The conversation had finally winded down after an hour, and the champagne and water washed down the last of your dinner. And now, only one thing remains.

“So, you’re probably wondering why I wanted to meet with you.” You hummed. "Well, as you know, we've been expanding Netflix into South Korea, and we're picking up a lot of Korean dramas as demand grows here in the States. As I was talking with Kenji, we thought you’d be perfect for the role of director for creative marketing. I understand you've been a writer for a long time, but I believe you have the potential to help us thrive even more with your market knowledge and insight.”

“Would that mean I wouldn’t have to move out here? That I could stay in Seoul?” It was the first thought on your mind.

“We’d onboard you here in LA for a few months and then get you settled back in Seoul.”

Zach’s offer was too good to be true and to pass up. You didn’t have anything else going for you right now. No show and only a half-finished script.

“So? What do you think?” Zach leaned back in his seat, draping his arm behind you, scanning you from head to toe. He finished the last of his champagne, gesturing for the waitress to bring another one.

It’s not like you could give him an answer right here, right now–coming to live in LA, leaving your life and friends behind. It was a big ask and not a decision you’d take lightly.

Your silence encouraged him to move closer, and his knee knocked into yours. “What do I have to do to convince you?” he said, his finger lightly brushing against your knee.

Immediately, you pulled back, pushing his hand away. “Is this how you get everyone to come to work for you?” You scowled, disgusted by his action.

“This is an opportunity of a lifetime, babe. Don’t waste it.” Zach raised his brows, waiting for you to change your mind. He tried to touch you again, but a loud smack echoed throughout the room, making others around you stop and look at the commotion.

“You’re feisty. I like that.” Zach licked his lips, massaging his cheek.

“You’re a disgusting pig.”

He scoffed. “Oh, am I? I’m here trying to give you a job, and here you are, being a fucking bitch. I hear you have nothing else lined up for you, right? And I can easily tell everyone in this industry to never give you another job again.” He threatened and then proceeded to move in again.

“If you touch me again. I’ll fucking scream,” you seethed, your face warm to the touch, smoke fuming from your ears.

Zach rolled his eyes and threw his hands in defeat. “Fine–have it your way. Good luck getting a job in this industry ever again,” he spat out before leaving.

Everyone in the restaurant was looking at you. You cowered, unsure of where to go or what to do. You weren’t expecting this turn of events. It was just too good to be true.

This whole trip felt like a bust. You came here expecting to return to Seoul with a job but instead had a creepy interaction with a high-level executive, and they paid for everything, including your flight and hotel. You shivered at the thought of him knowing exactly where you were staying. You were alone in a big city, and the only person you knew was your ex-boyfriend.

You illuminated your phone to check the time, debating whether to call Jungkook. Would it be weird? Would you look desperate if you called? It’s not like you had any dignity left anyway.

Unlocking your phone, you clicked on Jungkook’s contact; your thumb hovered over the call button. Fuck it, you thought and pressed call.

It rang a few times before Jungkook’s familiar voice was on the other end—it felt like old times.

Hello?

“Hey, it’s me.”

Hey. I was hoping you’d call. Are you done with your meeting already?

“Yeah, um, would you mind picking me up at the restaurant?”

Yeah! Of course. Text me the address. I’m coming right now.

Jungkook zipped through the city, and thankfully, there wasn’t any heavy traffic to slow him down. He got to the restaurant in less than 20 minutes. He pulled up and saw you waiting on the sidewalk with your arms crossed, trying to keep yourself warm. Parking the car, he ran over to you.

“Hey—are you okay?” he asked with concerned eyes, scanning you from head to toe, ensuring you weren’t hurt.

“Yeah, can we go?” Your body language was telling Jungkook otherwise.

He opened the door for you, and you quickly got in, fastening your seat belt and breathing a sigh of relief once you lay against the headrest. Jungkook looked over, biting his cheek as he could tell you weren’t okay—your eyes were glassy, and he could see how your mascara smudged. He began to input the address for the hotel, but you stopped him.

“Can—can we go back to your place?” Jungkook perked up. “I don’t want to be alone, if that’s okay.”

He certainly wasn’t going to deny you. “Yeah, of course. That’s fine with me.”

“Are you sure?”

It probably wasn’t fair of you to do this to him.

“Yeah, of course. Anything for you.”

“Jungkook, you can totally say no—”

He gently placed his hand on top of yours. “Hey—it’s okay. We’ll go to my place.”

You waited a good distance behind Jungkook as he unlocked the door. He took a step but then stepped back and turned to you.

“Bam gets excited when new people come over. So, I apologize if he’s a bit wild.”

You smiled, assuring him you’d be okay. You were nervous but psyched to meet him, actually—you hoped he would like you. Considering Jungkook was his owner, Bam would probably be the sweetest pup.

As soon as Jungkook opened the door, the brown-coated Doberman greeted him. He knelt down, rubbing his floppy ears. “I told you I wouldn’t be gone long, right, Bamie?”

Jungkook looked at you, beaming a wide smile before returning to his puppy. Bam’s tongue hung out as he panted, looking in your direction–he really did have big, doe eyes like Jungkook. Maybe they were drawn to each other through lingering starry eyes.

He let go of him, and immediately Bam came to sniff your hand, giving a few licks before looking up at you. “I think he likes you.”

“Whew—I passed Bam’s vibe check,” you joked as you crouched down to cup his face, in which Bam licked your chin. “Oh–” You scrunch your eyes closed and giggle at the pup. He really was so sweet.

“Bam—house,” Jungkook commanded. Bam whined quietly before following his owner’s order. He pouted the entire stroll to his crate. As he lay down, he took his turtle chew toy into his mouth, making it squeak.

You slipped off your shoes and set down your bag, looking around Jungkook’s apartment. As you expected, it was squeaky clean, with a few photo frames of his mom, Yuna, and Indie. Then you noticed the ‘Rising Star’ award he had displayed on a shelf next to a few other awards he must’ve gotten at his new job. The stark white walls and flooring contrasted against the black and brown hue furniture. You chuckled to yourself when you saw the workout equipment in the corner—of course; it’s right in his living room.

“If you’re tired, you can take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Oh–” It wasn’t your intention to sleep here. You didn’t want to be alone after that icky interaction with Zach. “I’m okay. Do you just want to hang out and talk for a little bit?”

Jungkook took a big gulp and cleared his throat. He figured this was the moment of truth. He didn’t know what to expect anymore–it could be good or bad.

“Yeah,” he smiled, making his way to the couch, gesturing for you to do the same. “Make yourself at home.”

That was easier said than done. You felt intrusive and feared that you crossed a boundary you shouldn’t have.

He watched you sit on the opposite end. And never in a million years did he think you’d be here, sitting with him. Is it possible that you have found some way to forgive him?

Your eyes found his, and the two of you nervously chuckled.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? Tea?”

You shook your head. You didn’t mind just sitting here and being in his presence. It felt so comforting after such a long day of traveling and a shitty meeting.

“How was your meeting? Did it go well?”

You sighed, positioning your body toward him as you leaned against the couch. You purse your lips before answering him. “The guy was a bit of a douche. The job sounded like a great opportunity, but I refuse to work with someone who thinks I’ll sleep with them for a job.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, and he shifted in his seat. “I’m sorry, what?”

You could see Jungkook clenching his fist, but honestly, he had nothing to worry about. You hoped the slap Zach got was more than enough to scare him off.

You held your hands up to calm him down. “I can take care of myself, Jungkook,” you assured him. “He got a nice slap from me,” you beamed.

He breathed a sigh, relaxing his body into the couch cushion. “I’m sorry the meeting wasn’t everything you had hoped for.”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever. I’m sure something better will come along.”

“I’m sure it will.”

“So, what were you doing on a Friday night? I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.” You scanned the room, and there was nothing indicating he had company over.

Jungkook pouted, shaking his head. “Just hanging out with Bam.”

“No girlfriend or anything?”

Jungkook suppressed a smile, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe this was your subtle way of asking if he was seeing anyone. “No. No girlfriend. LA girls aren’t really my type.” Because you were, he thought. As hard as he tried to let you go, he just couldn’t.

You hummed and then wanted to kick yourself because that question came out of nowhere, but it was the question lingering on your mind ever since he had left. Someone who looked like him would’ve surely had women lined out the door, ready and willing to date him and bear his children.

“What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, avoiding your gaze.

“No. No boyfriend.”

“So, you’re not seeing that Yoongi guy?”

You licked your lips, the corners of your mouth curving into a smile. “I’m guessing you heard that name from Yuna or Taehyung?” He nodded. “He’s just a friend and a pain in my ass.”

“Ah–got it.”

“And what about Alex? Is she still around?” You couldn’t not ask. It was like a giant elephant hanging out in the room with you.

Jungkook figured her name would come up sooner or later. “Alex’s not working for the company anymore. She moved out of the country.”

“Good,” you huffed; if she wasn't near Jungkook, that made you happy.

“You really hate her, huh?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

Jungkook softly chuckled, letting a beat pass. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Everything that happened with us.”

“I’m sorry too.” Your lips thinned, your fingers unconsciously picking at your hand.

“Why are you sorry?”

You appreciated that he didn't point out your flaws, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. Neither one of you was perfect. “Jungkook, you’re not the only one to blame. I should have communicated my feelings better when we were together.”

He nodded in agreement. “Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

Initially, it was hard to even think about forgiving Jungkook, but as time passed, the pain and hurt subsided. “Mm. I forgive you. Do you forgive me?”

“Yes,” he chimed in. You chuckled at how fast he answered. “What?” He raised his eyebrow.

You shook your head. “Nothing–”

“Just say it.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because—I just—shouldn’t.” You wanted to say you found him cute and endearing and that he forgave others too quickly.

“Fine,” he pouted, shifting his leg onto the couch.

Your mouth opens involuntarily, exhaling a yawn from exhaustion. The time difference really fucked you up. Quickly, you covered it with both hands and excused yourself.

“Am I boring you?” Jungkook teased.

“Yes, actually. I hadn’t realized you’d become so dull,” you quipped, covering another yawn. “See—so boring that you’re making me sleepy.” You leaned on your arm against the back cushion.

“Or maybe you’re just becoming an old lady.”

You scoffed. “I’m an old lady? You’re the one who’s staying in on a Friday night! Old man.”

“Yeah, I had to stay in, just in case an old lady needed me.” Jungkook giggled and looked away before returning to meet your eyes. “I’ve missed this.”

“What?”

“Us.”

It was this specific moment when you moved into flight mode. You gave a half-smile and shifted your position so your feet touched the ground. You checked your phone for the time. “I should get an Uber and go back to my hotel.”

“I can take you.”

“Jungkook, you’ve done so much for me already. I don’t want you to have to drive back and forth.”

“I don’t mind—honestly.”

You stood up. “I know you don’t—but I do. It’s okay—really.” You unlocked your phone and pulled up the app, determined to call for a car. All of this was becoming too much for you, for your heart. His presence, the giggles, the familiarity of what the two of you used to be.

Jungkook stood and walked over to you, gently pushing away your phone. “What’s going on? Tell me the truth.” He could always tell when your mind was working overload—racing with thought after thought.

Should you tell him why you needed to leave after the two of you had a nice, civil conversation without screaming or yelling? Your therapist did tell you that no one would know how you feel unless you told them—and you just told Jungkook that you should communicate better.

Ugh, goddamnit. 

Speak now or forever, hold your peace.

You didn’t want to revert back to your old ways—being anxious, self-conscious, unsure of what you wanted. You sighed. “The truth?” Jungkook nodded. “The truth is—I probably shouldn’t have called you.”

“Why?” he asked as his starry eyes gazed deeply into your soul.

“Because—I was—I am scared.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrow, unsure of why you’d be scared. “Scared of what?”

“I was scared that if I called you and we talked—old feelings would resurface, and I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.”

“You still have feelings for me?”

“I think so? I’m—I’m not sure,” you stammered. “That’s why I didn’t call you in the first place when I knew I was coming to LA, and then when I happened to bump into you—well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that yes, I still have feelings for you.”

His eyes fell to the floor, and he sucked in his lips, trying not to smile, before looking back at you. “Am I the mistake?”

You shook your head. “You were never a mistake.”

“Then what mistakes are you referring to?”

You hung your head and sat back down, and Jungkook followed suit. You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, and he looked at you, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know. Me—falling too fast, building fantasies inside my head, knowing it’ll never be real, not saying how I feel, pushing away people who love me. Should I keep going?”

“So, you didn’t want to call me and come here because you were scared all that’s gonna happen if you talked to me? Is that right?”

It sounded ridiculous, but he hit the nail on the head.

You hummed.

There was the slimmest chance of you bumping into Jungkook while in the same city, but you hadn’t fully prepared yourself if you did bump into him. You weren’t ready for the unresolved feelings and the smallest flutters of butterflies, your body to warm up to the simplest of accidental touches and soft giggles.

You could’ve just sucked it up, called an Uber, returned to your hotel, and tried to brush off the slimy interaction with the Netflix exec, but instead, you called the one person you knew would bring you comfort—Jungkook.

Should you just be completely honest and bare your soul? You were halfway there. Maybe it was time to grow up and just say what the fuck you wanted.

Jungkook was silent and waited to see if you had anything else.

You cleared your throat, thinking it was now or never.

“Our breakup,” you paused to recollect yourself and to stop your lips from quivering so much. You started again, “Our breakup—it really fucked me up. You left without saying goodbye, and after that, I kind of spiraled—drinking every day, showing up late to set, and ditching our friends. Hell—I almost let some random guy fuck me in a bathroom.”

You sighed. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, but I needed to go through all those things to be where I am today. I’ve done a lot of work on myself and had a lot of healing through therapy, a solo trip, and some new friends–okay, just one new friend, but that's beside the point–I just don’t want to go back to the same person I was before.”

Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, but you stopped him.

“I’m not saying that being here with you again will make me become the person I was before—I just want to make better decisions being the new person I am now.”

Finally, hearing how you felt after all this time relieved him. He had waited so long for you to finally share yourself with him.

Jungkook’s mouth moved from side to side, nibbling on his bottom lip before he spoke, “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. The weekend in Jeju really fucked me up. So much was happening with Taehyung and Hyunie’s wedding, and then we were on the brink of breaking up while pretending to be happy. My heart and my mind were all over the place. Then I saw you with Yoongi, and that really sent me over the edge because that’s when I knew I had lost you and could never get you back—no matter how hard I tried, I don’t think anything would’ve worked. So—I left.”

Your jaw tightened, trying to hold back tears as Jungkook recounted his side of the story. You didn’t know he saw you with Yoongi; it must’ve been shortly after you returned from Jeju. And as much as you were hurting, so was he.

Well, since both of you were in apology mode.

“I’m sorry too,” you said. “Growing up, it was only me. I had to do everything myself because my parents weren’t really there for me, and so I always felt like I didn’t want to bother others with my burdens. I know it’s not an excuse, but I’m slowly learning that I don’t have to do everything alone—that it’s okay to ask for help. So, I’m sorry I never communicated well and kept things from you.”

He licked his lips, thinking about how new this was all for him—you baring your feelings. “No, that makes sense. I get it.”

“You do?”

“I mean—I’m not perfect either. We both made mistakes, but you’re wrong about one thing.”

You raised your eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“You had me and Yuna, and you know my mom loves you like you’re her own. She might love you more than she loves me,” he said. “And you know you can always tell me what’s going on. I’ll always be here for you—no matter what happens between us.”

You grinned because he was right. You had overlooked the huge part that their family played in your life. You couldn’t discount that.

“If there’s one thing I truly regret from all of this—it’s cutting ramen out of my diet since I’ve moved here,” he joked to lighten the mood.

You dramatically gasped, covering your mouth. “You cut ramen from your diet? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

The two of you giggled.

“I guess we’ve both done some growing up, huh?” Jungkook knocked his knee into yours.

“Yeah, looks like it.”

“So, what now?”

You shrugged, unsure of Jungkook’s feelings, but you wanted to express yours. “I don’t want to wake up one day and regret not trying again. I want you. I want all of you, but I'm scared—scared that I'll get hurt and go back to my old ways. I’ve had a lot of healing, and I'm in a good place, but seeing you again, being near you, makes me want to forget everything that has happened and jump in your arms and tear off your clothes.”

Jungkook covered his mouth as he silently chuckled at your confession.

“Are you basking in my misery?” you sneered.

His lips turned into a pout as he shook his head. “No, I just—this is what I wanted all along while we were dating.”

“What? Me acting like a fool?”

“No—you telling me how you feel, tell me how much you want me, to claim me as yours.”

You opened your mouth and made a face. “You want me to grovel? Get on my knees?”

Jungkook bit his tongue when you got down on your knees in front of him. He had to tell himself and his dick to calm the fuck down because it was not the time and place to be thinking of such naughty things.

You gazed up at him; seeing him squirm was fun. “You like me on my knees?” you asked, sitting back on your legs.

He cleared his throat, adjusting his sweats as he shifted back on the couch. He thought back to the very first time you sucked him off after having dinner with Yuna and your mom. “I’m sorry. I think you were confessing your love for me. Go on. I’m all ears.”

You smacked his thigh. “I’m—you’re ruining this moment!”

“I’m ruining it? You’re the one who got down on your knees! You know how much I love that,” he mumbled the last of his words.

You turned and cupped your ear toward him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

“Just—go on. You were saying?” He cocked his head to the side, waiting for you.

You huffed, tilting your head back before landing on his sparkly doe eyes and cute little dimple peeking through. “I am stupidly in love with you, Jeon Jungkook, and I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you again.”

Jungkook felt a sense of relief when he heard those words, but there was still a small sliver of fear. “What if we’re just fooling ourselves into thinking this will work?”

“Then I guess we can be fools together.”

After baring your soul to Jungkook, you wanted nothing more than to jump into his lap and ride him like an endless merry-go-round, but you’ve changed and didn’t want to regret anything going forward with him. The two of you needed to take things slow and steady because you wanted to win the race.

The two of you stayed up late—talking, drinking beer, and catching each other up on life until the sun came up. It was like no time had passed, and you picked up right where you left off.

Bam had taken a liking to you, staying by your side, following you whenever you got up and moved around. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight. He definitely took after Jungkook.

The size of your bladder warranted another trip to the bathroom, and when you returned to where Jungkook and Bam were, you noticed Jungkook in a compromising position.

“Why are you on one knee? Are you taking a page out of my book?” you teased, not wanting to jump to any conclusions because you both agreed on taking it slow.

Without an answer, he took out something he was hiding behind his back. He held a blue velvet box in the palm of his hand.

Your eyes widened, and your heart raced rapidly because you knew exactly where that box was from. You and Yuna had looked at engagement rings for hours on end when the two of you thought Namjoon was getting ready to propose. You had mentioned it too many times to Jungkook while the two of you were dating. There’s no way he’d be proposing, right?

This whole thing with Jungkook was new—well, not really new, but you’d have to turn him down if he were to ask your hand in marriage. You were definitely not ready because the two of you had just agreed to try this relationship again.

“What the fuck is that? It better be a ring pop,” you implored. He slowly shook his head, beaming a smile from ear to ear. You repeated ‘no’ under your breath, shaking your head.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Oh—I know what it is!”

Jungkook leaned over on his knee toward you. “Okay, so tell me.”

“It’s—it’s the ring that I couldn’t stop talking about. Why do you have it?”

He giggled at how cute and flustered you had become. “For once, you’re wrong.”

“I’m never wrong,” you huffed.

He stood, making his way to you, lifting your chin with his index finger. He stared deeply into your eyes. “You are completely and utterly wrong.”

You pouted and crossed your arms. “Prove it.”

Jungkook sighed at how stubborn you were. He opened the blue velvet box, and it was not the ring you had envisioned. “It’s a promise ring.” Because it was the ring that complimented the engagement set.

You visibly gulped, and there was a sense of relief. “A promise ring?”

He nodded. “You are everything I could ever want and more. It’s always been you, and there’s gonna be no one else for me. You are worth walking through hell and back, and considering we’ve done that already—I’d do it again if I had to, but please, please—I don’t want to do it again,” he pleaded, making you smile. “If you’ll let me, I want to love you and show you I’m worthy of your love every day for the rest of my life.”

You found yourself grinning from ear to ear, loving his little declaration of love. You moved closer to him, looking at the ring and then at him. “I want to make this right—us. I was wrong for not fighting for you—for us, and I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

He pulled the ring from the box, grabbed your left hand, and placed the piece of jewelry on your finger. “We’re in this together—you and me.”

You glanced at the ring, smiling at how pretty it looked on your finger. “You and me.”

A lot has happened in the last 24 hours—you flew to LA, had your meeting, and rekindled your relationship with Jungkook. The last thing wasn’t anything you expected, but it became the silver lining to this short trip you were dreading in the first place.

The pair of you couldn’t stop smiling and giggling in the elevator up to your hotel room–mind you, you’d kept your distance from him the entire night, but it was becoming pure and complete utter torture.

Your time in LA was already coming to an end, and everything in you wanted to just leave your life behind and stay, but you had to resist; you had to fight it—at least for now.

“So,” you trailed off, unsure what to say to him.

“So,” he repeated, leaning next to your door.

You both smiled and laughed at the tension filling the hallway.

“Do you,” you paused to think through your words, “want to come in until I have to leave?” This was a good boundary, you thought–just until you had to leave for the airport.

Jungkook licked his lips, flipping his lip ring back and forth with his tongue. His eyes explored your face before landing on your lips. “I’d love to, but we know if I do, then you won't get anything packed, and you’ll for sure miss your flight.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and playfully smacked his chest. “I have no idea what you’re alluding to, mister.”

But you fucking knew and wanted it too.

He eliminated the distance between you, slowly caging you against the door. You closed your eyes when he gently caressed your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You had forgotten how much you had missed his touch—your body was glowing inside, illuminated from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You wanted nothing but to savor this moment—a moment you thought ceased to exist, a moment you thought only existed in your reveries.

The tiny hairs on your skin, tingling, standing on their end in anticipation of an expected kiss. All this tension was killing you softly.

His other hand snaked around the nape of your neck, pulling you even closer. Your eyes fluttered open, watching his lips part, his breaths slowing down, and you were trying to remember if they were still soft and had the faintest taste of strawberry. And you wanted to gently tug on that silver piece of jewelry and hear him whine because of it. 

Your stomach somersaults like there’s a gymnast going for the gold for the floor exercise when his body brushes against yours. The twitch in his black sweats is what really makes you melt and clench around nothing. It's been far too long since you've been touched, and he was the only one that could bring you pleasure.

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes are desperately darting back and forth between yours, waiting for your okay.

“Please,” you pleaded, almost inaudible if he wasn't so close.

He doesn’t go right in like you expected. He took his time, both hands cupping your face and your hands gripping his tiny waist like nothing had ever stopped between the two of you. The tip of his nose nudged yours, his lips lightly feathering across the top of your lips—not going in just yet. His warm hot breath fans the ever-growing desire within you. It was thrilling for him to rediscover everything he loved about you.

You closed your eyes in excitement, scrunching the bottom of his shirt in your hands. You slightly tugged on it, wanting him to hurry and just fucking kiss you already. You had never known him to be so careful, so gentle.

He giggled at your frustration. “I thought we were taking things slow.”

You deadpanned. “It’s too slow,” you whined, trying to reach for his lips, but he pulled back. “I thought you wanted to kiss me?”

Jungkook flashed a soft smile, his dimple on display. “I do.”

“Then shut up and do it already,” you pouted. You couldn't handle the teasing between you anymore. You wanted to make up for everything lost within the last year. If you had all the time in the world, you’d want him to do anything and everything to you, but that day would have to wait.

He tilted his head and leaned in; his nose nuzzled into the side of your face, and the deep yearning you’d hidden inside was released as his lips finally found yours. Lips on lips delicately caressing and wandering like the two of you were in a drought, in desperate search of food and water.

You gently nipped on his bottom lip, lightly pulling on his ring before kissing the side of his mouth. He grinned, thinking he’d get you back for that, not today but soon. Your hands traced the curves of his body, causing him to press himself further into you. The evident erection in his sweats tells you how much he was enjoying this too.

The kiss became heated and fervent, like an all-consuming fire taking everything in its path. Your hands are placed on his toned chest, holding on for dear life as he presses you against the door, breathing life back into you like your life depends on it.

You pulled back, gasping for air, but he leaned in, wanting just a bit more. You’re intoxicating, and he’s greedy. He’s a man starved from your touch and kisses. There’s no way he’ll ever let you go again. He’d fight for you until his very last breath.

Your arms drape around his neck, your fingers twirling and tugging at the ends of his long hair. You deepen the kiss, your warm tongue nipping at his mouth, begging for more access to him. Kissing isn't enough anymore. You needed him—all of him. To rediscover his deepest desires, wants, and needs was the only job you wanted right now.

Jungkook withdrew from your kiss. “You have to pack.”

You took a moment to catch your breath. “Or you can come inside and help me pack.” You moved in again for another kiss, but he resisted.

“I would love that, but…” he trailed off, letting the desire within subside.

Your lips thinned. “But then we wouldn’t be taking it slow, would we?” He nods. “I should pack.”

He leaned in to quickly give you a peck on the lips. “Mm, you should.”

Your shoulders slump, and you tilt your head against the door. “But I don’t want to.”

“But you have to.” You groaned and stomped your feet like baby Indie. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

bonus (jk pov - hotel)

“Sorry, I got here early, but some lady was taking forever to get her luggage,” the driver said as Jungkook’s colleague opened the door.

"You coming?" His colleague asked from inside the car.

"...uh, you go on without me. I left my phone inside. I'll catch an Uber."

His colleague shrugged and shut the door behind him before the car took off. Jungkook stood before the hotel's entrance, unsure whether to enter or just leave.

He thought he saw you while waiting outside the restaurant, but he figured it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. Even if it was really you, he wasn't sure he was ready to face you, let alone know what to say. He abruptly left without explaining his actions. He didn't think when he did it, which was a stupid, rash decision he later regretted. He couldn't bear the heartache of being so close to you.

The plan was to get as far away as possible so he could forget, but the problem was that he couldn't. You were the love of his life (yes, even at the tender age of 25). He had no desire for anyone else. Even when gorgeous women were flinging themselves at him in this new city. He wasn't concerned with them because they weren't you.

Everything made him think of you. From peonies to hot tubs and even bowling. He'd go back and say goodbye if he could. He despised the way things ended.

Before he knew it, his foot had stepped past the sliding glass door, heading in, unsure of where even to begin. He began his search as he walked through the lobby, peering at the reception desk. 

He noticed a woman standing at the counter. Maybe your hair had grown out. Approaching the woman, he tapped them on the shoulder. "Noona..."

When the woman turned around, Jungkook quickly apologized before returning and going on the hunt for you. You may have already gone to your room, but he wasn't about to give up so easily. He'd be sorry if he missed you by a millisecond. Could his eyes be deceiving him? Maybe he didn't see you just standing there. Maybe he missed you so much that he imagined everything.

He told himself he'd look for ten minutes before giving up and going home. He walked around the lobby, past the reception desk, down the hallway, and even took the elevator up a few floors before returning down.

He was sure the workers thought he was creeping around and wouldn't be surprised if they had called security. He only had a few minutes before calling it quits and heading home. He walked past the restaurant he was just at, then took a few steps back.

What if you had gone to get a drink?

It didn't take long for him to notice you sitting alone at the bar, waving the bartender down to order. His eyes were not deceiving him; he was not insane.

It was you. 

You were absolutely stunning, he thought. Even after a year apart, you’d become more beautiful than ever. He needed a moment to take you all in because he didn’t think he’d ever see you again—here in LA.

Every heartbeat was like a metronome, keeping in sync with every step he took toward you. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes as he stood behind you, his mind racing with the right words—what would he say after a year?

“Is this seat taken?”

Fuck—if he could, he’d punch himself. He could’ve come up with something better.

✨ next ~ drabble ~ dream bigger, darling

[eemcintyre]

Cruel to be Kind (Terry Silver)

TW- um... about that... *inhales,* noncon touching, mentions of harassment, size/strength kink if you squint, vomit, blood, literal murder, general toxic yandere-esque behavior; no need to worry about me at all btw thx for asking ❤️

Summary- Terry finds out that a coworker has been bothering you and you insist he stays out of it, but he takes matters into his own hands. Literally. And let's just say that it could go better.

Pls I beg you to be kind for this first foray into writing for this character. I was inspired by the phenomenal writings of @karatekels and @terrence-silver, hopefully it's an enjoyable read. It was cathartic for me to write bc I'm dealing with a v creepy guy where I work right now and it makes me feel just the tiniest bit better to imagine Terry destroying him.

“You’re quiet today. Is everything alright?”

Terry’s curious voice sounded from the leather armchair where he sat. His face was still slightly downturned from when he had been reading the book in his lap, but his eyes were directed up at her quizzically.

It was the end of a long workday for both he and Y/N, and after dinner they had decided to simply sit and enjoy each other’s company- he in the armchair, and she on the couch perpendicular to him. However, his attempts at conversation quickly fizzled out with short, superficial replies from Y/N. While she was usually vibrant, having no shortage of things to say as her dark eyes glittered with excitement, that evening, her distant gaze reflected that her thoughts were elsewhere.

At Terry’s question, Y/N’s gaze snapped out of the distance and onto him, his favorite place for it to be.

“Yes, of course, everything’s fine,” she smiled and nodded, with what looked like substantial effort, sitting with her feet curled up on the couch.

Terry removed his glasses and snapped the cover of his book closed. “Darling, how long until you finally realize that you can’t lie to me?” They’d been together for five years and married for three of them, and she had yet to succeed.

“I…” Y/N opened her mouth to make another hollow proclamation about how fine she was but thought better of it. “It’s nothing; it’s not important. You have better things to worry about.”

She stared down at her hands, twisted together in her lap. Embarrassment washed over her in an intense red flush as she thought about what she was bothered by, praying that she wouldn’t have to tell him.

Terry leaned forward almost imperceptibly in his chair, lowering his voice, his expression softening in the way that it only did for her.

“Should I be worried? Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

“It’s just… you have a tendency to… overreact.” Y/N briefly met his eyes, even though she knew without looking at them that they were piercing through her.

“Oh?”

Y/N could tell from that single syllable of Terry’s response that what she’d said had been the wrong thing to say. The soft expression returned to its typical severity.

“Give me an example. Give me an example of a time I ‘overreacted’,” he gestured for her to go on, leaning back into the armchair and crossing one long leg over the other.  

“Terry…”

“No, I want to know. Tell me so I can learn how to handle myself better.” His voice was laced with sarcasm. Her stomach sank, but there was no turning back from the conversation now. His interest was piqued, and like an animal on the hunt, he wasn’t about to let the matter go.

“Well, like the time that guy hit on me at the charity ball and you roundhouse-kicked him in the garden.” Y/N replied cautiously, cringing, not only remembering the feeling of that creep groping her again, but also the shock of Terry’s dramatic reaction to it.

Rather than hotly debate that past event with her, which was what Y/N expected, he simply cocked his head and asked “Is this like that time?”

“Just… please be calm.”

“I am calm.” His voice took on an unmistakably harder edge as he leaned toward her again, waves of silver hair framing his face, and just like that it softened. His capacity to pivot from one mood to another, moment-by-moment, never failed to amaze her. Terry rose from his chair and took the place next to Y/N on the couch, resting one of his large, warm hands over hers, which were sitting on the tops of her thighs. “You’re just worrying me. What’s going on?”

Y/N sighed, her eyes affixed to the floor, fidgeting nervously with Terry’s hand as she spoke. “There’s this guy who’s a higher-up in my department at work- Brian- who’s been… bothering me. At first, he just made a lot of, like, off-color jokes, but now he’s also touched me a couple of times and- I mean, maybe it was an accident, but…” Her voice had become barely a mumble. “I just feel really uncomfortable… and I don’t want it to escalate anymore…”

She paused briefly and finally turned her head to face him. He remained silent, and unlike how he could so easily with her, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. The silence intensified her nervousness, so she rambled on.

“I’m trying to figure out how I should handle it without causing a big scene because, other than that, I have a really good thing going there, but… I’m just afraid that one day he’s going to be outside waiting for me in the parking lot or something.” She was shaking by this point and turned away from him again.

With a husband who was known for being so strikingly intelligent and capable of handling himself, Y/N felt utterly stupid for 1) getting into such a situation in the first place, and 2) not yet managing to get it under control. She wondered if a “strike first, strike hard, no mercy” lecture was coming.

Instead, she was surprised when he rose from the couch and strode toward one of the tall living room windows, hands in his pockets.

“Does this prick know that you’re married?” he asked.

She held up her left hand, adorned with a large and intricately detailed ring that was hard, if not impossible, for anyone to miss.  

“Does he know who you’re married to?”

“I doubt there’s anyone in town who doesn’t,” Y/N uttered a half-hearted laugh.

“And do you dislike that?” He stepped back toward her with measured steps, but his blue eyes flashed. “Is there a reason you don’t want to be associated with me?”

“I just don’t like being treated differently,” she said wistfully, thinking back to when she was just another random person and not Terry Silver’s wife. “Sometimes I feel like I get things I didn’t earn. Sometimes people act like they’re afraid of me.”

“They’re not afraid of you, angel. They’re afraid of me,” Terry replied, his matter-of-fact tone contrasted by the tension of his fists and the vein protruding from his forehead. “But apparently, not enough. If someone disrespects you, they disrespect me.”

Y/N’s shoulders sagged in frustration. “Don’t make this out to be an attack on your ego; this has nothing to do with you-”

“It has everything to do with me!”

She flinched and he made a conscious effort to lower his voice, crouching at her feet and taking her hands, tilting her chin up to force her to look at him. “A threat to you is a threat to me because I care about you so deeply. And no one threatens me and gets away with it.”

“Terry, now you’re scaring me…” She tried to shrink away from his touch, but he was slipping too far into his own anger to notice. The idea of some creep feeling entitled to put their filthy, unworthy hands on his wife, reducing her vivacious personality and sweet smile to a quiet, blank stare, had Terry seeing red.

“This jackass put his hands on you? I’ll put my hands around his neck until it snaps,” he growled.

“Terry! Please, let me resolve this. Don’t hurt him-”

“-Don’t hurt him?” he was incredulous. They rose to their feet together, where he towered over her and gripped her by the shoulders. “He hurt you, I’ll hurt him. Cause and effect. Actions have consequences. If he doesn’t have an understanding of that concept, I’ll give him one…”

“‘Consequences’ doesn’t have to mean breaking his legs. I am begging you, please just let me handle this and don’t do anything, not yet- promise me, sweetheart, please. For me.” Y/N’s voice shook as she pleaded with him, hands fisted in his shirt, trying with everything in her power not to cry as she felt tears shimmer at the corners of her eyes.

Terry stared down at her wordlessly, but his face calmed, and he released her from his hold, making a gesture with his shoulders and arms that Y/N read as acceptance.

“Thank you,” she exhaled, wrapping her arms around his torso in an embrace, her body relaxing when she felt his arms curl around her too.

~

The following day, Y/N pulled her cream-colored vintage Mercedes into the driveway. She was looking forward to an early start to the weekend, having had an extremely productive day and meeting all of the week’s deadlines just after the hour of noon. It was truly shocking how productive Y/N could be when she wasn’t constantly having to worry about avoiding Brian and wondering what he might do next.

When Y/N first clocked in for the morning, she’d been struck with an ice-cold pang in her stomach upon noticing that his desk was empty. She immediately thought of the ominous conversation with Terry yesterday, but before she could fall too far down that spiral, she was relieved to learn that Brian had merely called in sick. She laughed at herself. There was always some kind of cough or cold floating around the office, and to be honest, Y/N was surprised that she hadn’t caught anything herself in a while.

Even though a single day of illness wasn’t going to fix any of her problems, it was definitely a charming coincidence, a welcome surprise. It made the entire day incredibly pleasant- the sun seemed to shine brighter, her morning tea tasted sweeter, and the sound of the Motown music coming from the car radio sounded clearer. Maybe the universe was on her side and, even if she didn’t know how yet, everything would sort itself out after all.

Reaching the garage, she removed the key from the Mercedes’ ignition and took a moment to relish in the silence. The only detectable sound was the distant chirp of birds.

Come to think of it, it was almost too quiet.

Even during times when Terry himself was away doing work, the staff was always clattering around inside and outside the house doing cleaning and maintenance. Maybe they’d also had a productive morning.

Gathering her purse and heading inside, Y/N thought about suggesting to Terry that they go out to dinner, and maybe even take a whirlwind weekend trip. She decided to freshen up her hair and makeup and change into something cute before he returned home. Maybe that delicate champagne-colored slip dress from Paris.

Y/N found the interior of the house to be just as quiet and empty as the exterior, the sound of her lone footsteps bouncing off the marble walls of the foyer. She jumped upon hearing a thud from the floor above but was comforted to finally hear some sort of movement in the house. She was about to call out for some of the staff when Vince, Terry’s head of security, appeared from a side hallway.

Y/N smiled in relief. “What’s going on? Where is everyone?” she asked, realizing that if Vince was at the house, then Terry must be as well. “Where’s Terry?”

Vince did not smile back. “Mr. Silver is working in his office. He asked not to be disturbed until-”

She waved him off, bemused, taking a step forward that he immediately moved to block. “What are you talking about? I’m sure-”

“Mrs. Silver, he ordered me not to let anyone in.”

“I’m his wife,” she insisted, her pulse inexplicably starting to race, eyebrows furrowed as she kept trying to get past Vince and he continued to block her path. It kept repeating over and over in her head that something was wrong. “I’m sure he didn’t mean…”

Their tense dance across the floors escalated as Vince physically tried to hold her in place by the shoulders.

“What the hell? Let me go!” she cried, writhing in his grip, and swatting at his chest.

“Mrs. Silver, please don’t do this-”

Y/N managed to push him away from her for a brief moment, long enough to step out of the perimeter of his reach and sprint up the stairs. She stumbled a few times, shaking and lightheaded, and her thoughts were so muddled from panic that she hardly knew how she eventually reached the door of Terry’s office.

She would have hesitated to dramatically burst in and disturb him under normal circumstances, but these circumstances were decidedly not normal.

She staggered through the doorway.

The rest of the room was slightly sunken-in from the doorway, making it so one was unable to see most of the room without taking a few steps further. She was met again with eerie quiet- apart from the faint sound of someone breathing heavily. Still shaking, Y/N treaded delicately forward until she sighted Terry standing in the middle of the room by the small couch, his back to her.

“I thought I told you not to come in here until I called you,” he snapped, his shoulders rising up and down with the force of his breath. His hair was swept into a ponytail, but it looked askew- loose locks floating at random on both sides of his head.

“Terry?” Y/N approached him timidly, struggling to speak over her knotted-up stomach.

At the sound of her voice, Terry spun around. Y/N froze. Surprise briefly flickered across his face before he brought his expression back to its typical calculated control. “You’re home early, darling,” he murmured, forcing enough of a smile that it would appear he was pleased to see her.

“I… I finished up my projects for the week…” Y/N trailed off, taking in the rest of Terry’s unusual appearance. His face glistened with sweat and one side looked like it was smeared with…

“W-what’s that?” she gasped, eyes widening as she gestured to his face.

Terry lifted a hand to his cheek, and when he lowered it, he studied the dark red that had transferred to the pad of his finger. He would have to think fast.

“You’re bleeding.”

As Y/N neared Terry, he tried to guide her away from where he’d been by the couch, but it was too late. As she grew close enough to just barely see around the front of the couch, her eyes went to an unfamiliar object on the ground.

It was a man’s shoe. With a foot in it.

Terry was silent as Y/N screamed, stumbling back in horror as her gaze traveled further up and recognized Brian, crumpled up on the floor in a heap of blood.

Terry caught her as she fell and attempted to gather her into his arms, but she thrashed against his hold.

“Get the hell away from me- don’t touch me! Don't fucking touch me!” Even though he was far stronger than her, he allowed her to push him away. He spoke in a measured, low tone.

“Listen. I didn’t want you to have to see this…”

“You are so sick,” she choked out, tears spilling down her cheeks, eying him like he was an uncaged wild animal.

“Sick with love for you, yes,” he replied bluntly, slightly tilting his head and giving a small shrug.

“No, you’re a monster; you are evil and vile and perverted…” she sobbed.

“Well, don’t stop there. Go ahead. Tell me more, sweetheart.” Terry’s tone was flat but his gaze was unflinchingly intense. She recoiled. “What did you expect me to do? Did you really think I was going to stand aside and do nothing, knowing that my wife spends every day looking over her shoulder and living in fear, getting preyed on like a piece of meat? Besides, I told you- a threat to you is a threat to me. I protect what’s mine.”

He tried to grab ahold of her again and she tried to wrestle blindly out of his arms, her vision blurred by tears, the anger at being betrayed, and the stomach-turning fear of what he was really capable of, no matter how much of a mellow act he could put on. But, this time, he didn’t allow her to push him away.

“Why the hell are you crying? You didn’t even like this worthless piece of shit- he hurt you and he got exactly what he deserved!”

She was supposed to be relieved- she also wasn’t supposed to see the body or find out Brian had been murdered- but there was no undoing it. Terry roughly gripped her by the chin, confused frustration overtaking his better judgement as he forced her to look at the body seeping blood all over the office carpet.

“Now, look at that. You’ll never hear another filthy word from that mouth,” he whispered gently, the side of his face pressed to hers, gesturing to Brian’s battered facial features. “Those hands will never touch you again.” Terry pointed out the amalgamation of blood and broken bone at the end of each of the man’s arms.

Y/N was able to free her chin, slippery from tears, from Terry’s grip, stomping one of his feet and elbowing him in the ribcage hard. He could have easily kept his hold on her and subdued her but decided it would be best to allow her a couple of minutes to calm down. He would repay her for the blows and the ungratefulness another time.

Terry reminded himself that Y/N, unlike himself, was totally inexperienced when it came to violence, blood, and guts. Doing what had to be done. She took the path of least resistance even at her own expense. But this was a start; something he could work with.

Alarmed by the commotion inside the office, having overheard the conversation but hesitating to interrupt, Vince and a member of the maintenance staff finally crept inside of the room, looking at Terry expectantly.

“Clean this room from top to bottom,” Terry directed, waving his finger offhandedly in the general direction of the couch before stalking past them. As he thought about where Y/N was likely to have gone, he wiped the sticky droplets of blood from his face.  

After escaping Terry, Y/N had run straight to the master bathroom to be sick. Slumped over the toilet, she heaved violently, feeling worse than she ever had in her life, coming down from the pure shock and experiencing a gouging pain in her chest. She hoped with everything in her that Terry would leave her alone, but she knew he was likely only moments behind. And sure enough, she soon heard the door open behind her and felt his body close to her again. Forced to either vomit all over the room or remain clutching the toilet (and choosing the latter) it was impossible to shy away from his suffocating touch.

He knelt next to her on the tile, delicately stroking her back with one hand and holding her hair out of her face with the other.

“Darling, just try to breathe. Try to relax your stomach,” he cooed, wholly unphased by the disgusting sights and sounds before him as she weakly tried and failed to push him off. “That’s it, let it all out. I’ve got you…”

When Y/N appeared to be finished retching for the time being, Terry brought her so that her back was flush with his chest and his own back was propped up against the wall. He snaked an arm over the counter of the bathroom vanity, grabbing a towel to wipe her face with. She burst into tears again, undoing his work, laying helpless as he cradled her.

“N-no…” she groaned faintly.

She was too exhausted and defeated to fight him anymore. Caged by his long arms and legs, she just sobbed into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations of his voice.

“Everything will be alright now. You’re safe with me.”  

[prima-donna-worm]

oh wait ok just watched yesterday’s ap here are my thoughts no one asked for teehee

1. obsessed with emily hyping murph/gerard up she’s like elody was SO MEAN to my HUSBAND the GREATEST GUY EVER

2. i do think the “you inspire me” thing is SUCH an interesting dynamic and brennan did push back on them with this but like. elody needing to inspire gerard to action IS part of the problem in their relationship. it is ALSO a very sweet and romantic sentiment and a very honest and vulnerable thing for gerard to say – he’s not putting on some sort of false bravado for her, he’s telling her the truth – but at it’s core it’s an acknowledgement of the imbalance between them

and i think both murph and gerard recognize that the fact that gerard *wouldn’t* have done anything if he hadn’t known elody was out there, that he wouldn’t have gone out and fought for the world simply because it was the right thing to do, because it was something that needed to be done, that that element of who he is and how he behaves is part of the problem, you know? and so “you inspire me” (while, again, i think does come from a very loving place) is also an admission of guilt, of cowardice, a reminder of everything gerard spent all those years *not* doing, and if elody hadn’t left, still wouldn’t be doing.

and while of course gerard is my beloved little cringe fail blorbo, i really appreciate the way brennan is playing elody and that she isn’t just immediately willing to take gerard back, or even to take him at his word that he’s changed, because she doesn’t need him to be inspired by her, she needs him to step up and stand at her side, but stand there on his own two feet. she needs him to be a partner, an equal, someone she can depend upon and trust and share the burden with, not someone she has to hold up. someone who can take on some of the weight, instead of another weight she has to carry.

and i *do* think gerard has become, or is becoming that person. like i think even the fact that he’s a battle master shows this – that he’s become a student of the very thing he asked elody to stop talking about at the dinner table, that he’s learned not just to stand and fight himself but to how fight *with* other people, how to lead them but also to support them. and i think his relationships with the other pcs and esp his conversations with ylfa show an emotional intelligence and empathy that maybe wasn’t always there before. and it’s my hope that in seeing gerard taking care of his party, or seeing him work with them in battle, or seeing him take a stand against the princess’s nihilism (even if she has bought into it herself), elody will realize that even if he came here for her, he’s independently become the person and the partner she needs him to be (or closer to it) on the way

3. buuuuuut i’m also actually really glad that murph and brennan decided ahead of time not to have a set outcome with them?? like that raises the emotional stakes sooo much from a rp perspective and i want to see murph/gerard work for it lol but i also think that like. elody is really justified in how she feels about gerard (which again, i think murph as a player and gerard as a character both know) and even though it’s easy to be team gerard and hype him up bc we’re seeing things from his side, elody has gone through a lot and had no one to inspire her through it. she’s been essentially alone for so long and gerard realizing his mistakes doesn’t actually fix anything in and of itself – and i think the uncertainty of it all feels so much more real than if a) they made up immediately and b) we knew they were going to make up eventually

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi guys! Got an anon ask with some triggers, so I'm copying it here so I can put a 'read more.'

TW: ED, SH

Here's the original ask:

hey Cas!

hru today? <3

I rlly don’t wanna bother u but I just need some advice bc I’m in a pretty tricky situation and I don’t know who I couldn’t turn to who wouldn’t then tell OTHER people (adults etc)

also a TW b4 anyone reads further: ED (not me but a a friend) and generally bad mental health (including sh and sui)

Basically I have this friend (one of my best friends) who’s struggled with really bad mental health and attempted in the past (we weren’t friends during this time but they’ve shared it with me) they have told me they no longer sh but I’m not entirely sure if I believe him on that but I guess there’s nothing to do except just take their word for it and they are definitely doing better than they were before (about a year or two ago)

thing is this friend does still have a (pretty bad I think) ED (specifically I think they have anorexia but I’m really not sure because I don’t know that much about EDs. I’ve tried to do some research but it’s actually incredibly hard to find any info about them especially in terms of ways to emotionally show support. In a medical sense they always seemed to be talked about like minor things(?) idk it’s hard to explain but often times I’ve been reading actual factual medical stuff and just been disgusted at the ways it’s discussed, like they try so hard to describe it from a technical viewpoint that they essentially the entire mental health aspect of it which kind of demeans the whole thing bc EDs ARE a mental health disorder)

sorry went on a little side rant there but basically I’ve tried to find stuff out but it’s really hard to learn about the mental health aspect and even harder to find stuff out about how to HELP someone through an ED

I’ve even resorted to looking thru some more unsavoury places for info (including anablr), I know these types of places encourage EDs and I am actually not a person who really loves their body very much but I do think I’m in a strong enough place emotionally to do this (and so far I’ve been correct, I’m unaffected) because I just wanted some actual insight on what it’s like

the problem with my friend is that she’s ALREADY in therapy. Her parents put her in it when they found out about her vaping habit but they just lie all the time (she tells me about it) because they have like serious trust issues due to past trauma and I’m gonna be honest, I 100% believe therapy is a good thing but sadly it is also entirely useless if the person doesn’t make any effort to get better

all I can do in that aspect of it is hope the therapy is going better than the jokes he makes about it or that eventually she will feel comfortable enough to share and process her issues

in terms of the ED what im really lost with is how to help

and don’t get me wrong, I know you can’t really help a person who doesn’t want to be helped but honestly I’m not giving up on this person I care about that easily. I will NOT be another person in their life who abandons them for being ‘too much’ or ‘too difficult’. I’ve already accepted the fact that I will not be able to help them out of it really (as best as I can at least)

I’ve already taken to carrying gum and mints in my school bag as much as I can (usually I’ll have a pack of both and I just share them with everyone so this person doesn’t actually catch wind that they’re the reason I do as quite often when they skip lunch they do help themselves to a few of my mints or gum pieces but ik if they knew it was for them they’d stop bc she’s just like that)

I just don’t know how else to help emotionally though, I’m one of the only people (I might be the ONLY person at all) that they feel comfortable enough to talk to about these issues and I just think its better that they’re telling someone who cares about them and is trying to help than telling no one at all which seems to be the alternative. The issue is I don’t know how to respond or show support especially because (thank u trust issues and trauma (/s) the window of vulnerability is SMALL (I’m talking a couple of seconds literally) before they’re joking and changing the subject

Also a small (but frankly compared to the rest of this, not very important) detail is that like I previously mentioned I am also not suuuper happy with my body ( I don’t sh really or have an ED in any way shape or form) and sometimes the stuff he says slightly upsets me (just like once I told him about how my mean grandma told me I was fat and had to eat less and he said his grandma forces him to eat more and that my grandma ‘sounds like her wet dream’ - I know this was just a joke obviously but I didn’t rlly love it considering my grandma is a pretty big source of my looks based insecurities)

like I said in no way is it on the same level and obviously I know it’s not coming from a place of malice because this friend also really looks out for my mental health like way more than my other friends tbh (I don’t know if it’s bc they struggled with it or whether they’re the only one who seems to notice I’m the therapist friend haha but they are the FIRST person to ask if anything’s wrong if I’m acting different and I rlly want to stress that because I know that from what I’ve said so far they may have come across as selfish or something but they are actually one of the kindest people ever) that’s especially why I’m worried if I bring anything up about wanting to help with little things or especially anything about not being a fan of little jokes that she’ll just stop talking about it at all in an attempt to make me feel more comfortable)

for context for all of this, I’m 15 (we both are) so still in school and they’re parents absolutely SUCK (in the most non violent way possible I would like to kill them [not actually but I do really hate them and wish them only the worst]) so there’s no emotional support coming from home for him

I don’t really have anyone I can talk to about this in real life because (for privacy reasons) they’ve asked me not to share it with like my other friends and I don’t have the greatest relationship with my parents (they’re not like abusive or neglectful or anything but we just have a lot of differences and just I’ve very much emotionally distanced myself from them)

sorry if this is too much because I do know it’s a really tricky situation and even though all of us sort of deify you, you’re still only one person and if this does make you uncomfortable or upset (not just if it’s triggering I mean just in general if you’re reading this and you don’t feel comfortable) in anyway please don’t force yourself to answer or feel guilty if you don’t because the last thing I’d want to do is put you in that kind of position

Im not sure if ill send in more anons but if I do then ill refer to myself (and you can call me) lacy anon so you know who I am (yes after the song bc i rlly love it haha)

Anyway sending lots and lots of love from the person who does basically look up to you as their adult role model and who I wanna be like when I’m older <3

Hi love! You're not bothering me at all!

So, first, I want to let you know that I am an adult, but when I say this, I hope you don't take it as...condescending, I guess? Because I don't mean it that way at all. I want to be realistic in the fact that these things you are dealing with are VERY grown-up and scary, and you are handling them in a remarkably mature way, but you are still legally fifteen.

This is way too much for a fifteen year old to take on.

You genuinely seem like the most amazing person. The fact that you have done research and carry around things for your friends, all to help them with their ED is frankly restoring my faith in humanity a bit. But I worry that you are placing WAY too much of the responsibility on yourself. I don't mean to be bleak or too blunt, but if god forbid anything ever happened, I would hate for you to blame yourself, and it sounds like you would. Your job is to be this person's friend. Not their therapist or caretaker.

So, here's my advice: I absolutely agree that you should not give up on them! But make sure you have boundaries. It broke my heart to read that you were going to places like anablr just to help- that's not healthy for you! As a friend, especially at your age, your most important job is to make sure your friend doesn't feel alone. And you're doing an amazing job, in my opinion. They seem to be willing to talk to you, and that's a big deal. But, in the best way, you are fifteen, and you don't have to have all the answers! Sometimes, the best way to support someone is to remind them that they are loved and they have someone in their corner. BUT remember that being there for someone doesn't mean you have to sacrifice yourself or your mental health. Say something if a joke makes you uncomfortable. "I love you so much, but that joke makes me feel uncomfortable. Can you maybe not joke like that?" It's okay and healthy to set those boundaries.

Please remember, you are not responsible for this person. You can love them and be there for them and care deeply, but you are responsible for you and your own health. Don't forget you.

My last very gentle suggestion is this: If you ever get to the point that you are so genuinely worried about this friend that you think it is a life-or-death situation, please don't take that on by yourself. I know it is scary, and I know that telling adults mean that there can be ramifications, but remember that if you are genuinely scared, then an adult needs to be there to keep everyone safe. Very bluntly: Trust can be rebuilt but you can't bring people back from some other very permanent decisions.

Again, you are a wonderful person, and a fantastic friend. But remember to take yourself into account and stay safe in all ways. I know this is probably not the advice you want to hear, but I hope maybe you'll consider it.

Sending so much love! <3 <3 <3

[avatar-anna]

please do one where y and harry r fake dating bc they're trying to make his jealous but yn is in love with him

buckle up, it's a long one!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

he said, “let’s get out of this town. drive out of the city away from the crowds.”

Y/n and Harry were on a vacation on the Amalfi coast. It was all driving with the top down, soaking up the sun, and exploring crystal blue waters on a yacht. It was pretty much magic. She was on the perfect getaway with the perfect guy.

Except they weren’t actually together.

They were starting in a movie together, and the producers and their respective managers thought it would be a good idea to generate press by setting up a fake relationship a couple months before the movie was set to release.

In theory, it made sense. Harry and Y/n were the two leading roles, they had great chemistry on and off the screen, and neither of them were currently seeing anyone, so there wouldn’t be any messy drama. In theory.

“Have you done this before?” Harry asked. He was laying next to Y/n in a shaded part of the yacht, close enough that it was clear they were “together” but not so close that they were suffocating each other. It was ridiculously hot outside, and all Y/n wanted to do was swim until her muscles were sore.

“What?” she asked, closing her book to look over at him through the shades of her vintage sunglasses.

“You know,” Harry gestured between the two of them. “This. The fake dating.”

“Twice. When I was first starting out. But then I was in a relationship for a couple years, and I don’t really like doing both, so.”

Y/n shrugged. She didn’t mind the PR stunts as much as other actors or celebrities seemed to. To her, it was just another job, and she had very strict boundaries and managers she trusted to respect them. It could’ve been a lot worse, and honestly she got to know a lot of cool people that way.

“Oh. I didn’t know you could decide to do one and not the other,” he said.

Like Y/n, Harry was wearing sunglasses, so she couldn’t see the expression in his eyes, but she understood well enough. Having freedom to choose like she could was a rarity in this industry.

“I was very clear about my boundaries when I first started working, but I also didn’t start my career as a teenager,” she said, sitting up so she could face him better. “Your managers are meant to support you and do what’s best for you, but they can lose sight of that sometimes. Don’t be afraid to tell them what you need.”

Harry nodded, but he still wouldn’t look at Y/n. Maybe he had a lot to think about. Or maybe she overstepped. Whatever caused his silence, she knew him well enough to know that it was time to leave him alone with his thoughts.

“I’m gonna go for a swim,” she said, standing up and shrugging off her cover up and removing the clip that had been holding up her hair.

Since Harry didn’t really say anything in reply, she figured he was just going to stay and read his book. Bukowski of all things, but Y/n didn’t want to broach that subject, mood change or not, so she kept her mouth shut about it.

The last few months, through chemistry tests and running lines together and hanging out just the two of them outside of filming, Y/n got to know Harry pretty well. He was a great guy with incredible talent, but he was also...a little moody on occasion. He sometimes took critiques to heart or just got in his head, and it just took over his entire demeanor.

She was pretty sure that's what was happening right now, so she decided to leave him alone. Y/n needed her alone time too.

After spraying on another layer of sunscreen, Y/n went to the edge of the yacht, staring down at the blue water beneath her. She was a city girl at heart, but getting out and getting away was always something she looked forward to. Having Harry here was just an added bonus.

Throughout the filming process, Y/n developed a bit of a crush on Harry.

Well, she technically had one before they met, having been a fan of One Direction and his solo work, but after they actually got to meet and talk and get to know each other, she only liked him more.

But Harry only seemed to see her as a friend, so she did her best to feel the same.

Y/n thought about the last few months as her eyes stayed trained on the water, almost in a trance. There had never been a moment in her career where she had feelings for a fellow cast member, but there was something about Harry. They were good friends, and even greater scene partners. Sometimes Y/n wondered if she was the only one who felt it, but she was too scared to ask.

“Head’s up!”

Before she could even think, Harry was running past and jumping off the yacht, taking Y/n with him. Squealing with delight, she was weightless for a moment, free falling until she eventually hit the water. It was cold, but not enough that she wanted to get out. When her head finally rose above the surface, she immediately splashed him.

“What the hell, Harry?”

His laughter bounced off the ocean, his smile brighter than the sun high up in the sky. It made Y/n’s stomach flutter. But when he swam over to her, she pushed those feelings down and focused on just enjoying her much needed and much deserved vacation.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

so bad, but he does it so well.

“I want—I want somehow to get away with you into a world where words like that—categories like that—won't exist. Where we shall be simply two human beings who love each other, who are the whole of life to each other, and nothing else on earth will matter!”

“Oh, my dear—where is that country? Have you ever been there? I know so many who've tried to find it. And believe me, they all got out by mistake at wayside stations. At places like Bologna or Pisa or Monte Carlo, and it wasn't at all different from the old world they'd left, but only rather smaller and dingier and more promiscuous.”

“Then what, exactly, is your plan for us?”

“For us? But there's no us in that sense! We're near each other only if we stay far from each other. Then we can be ourselves, trying to be happy behind the backs of people who trust us.”

“I am beyond that!”

“No, you're not! You've never been beyond, but I have. And I know what it looks like there. Beyond is alone, and I no longer want to be. You—”

“And cut! That was good guys! Really great stuff! Let’s take five and we’ll start again.”

The silence that had fallen over the scene and Y/n and Harry worked broke, dozens of voices commingling to make one big cacophony of sound until recording started back up.

Y/n stepped out of the old fashioned buggy and took the bottled water a production assistant handed her, careful not to smudge her red lipstick. She eyed Harry as we walked to the craft services table over the top of the bottle, watching as he spoke to a few crew members animatedly, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“A PR relationship might not be a bad idea,” a voice from beside her said.

Looking over, she saw her manager. It had taken a couple tries to find the right fit, but Marie had yet to steer her wrong. “You think?”

“You’re both young and at the height of your careers. It certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

“I don’t know, fake dating seems to be dying out. Everyone can see through it nowadays, can’t they?”

The idea of dating Harry was definitely intriguing, even if it was all just for show. But people weren’t as gullible as they used to be, not to mention Harry’s fans taking the term “fandom” to a whole different level. Y/n worried no one would buy it. Or that it might convey the wrong message.

“Does this project need a boost, or is this merely a suggestion?” she asked her manager.

Marie was blunt with her answer, but Y/n preferred it that way. “You know as well as I do that modern adaptations of classics aren't necessarily going to be critically acclaimed or received well by the public.”

“Barring Pride and Prejudice, of course,” Y/n said sagely.

“Of course,” Marie replied immediately.

They were on set of a slightly modernized adaptation of Age of Innocence. When the director came to Y/n about the project, she wasn't totally sure about it, for the exact reasons your manager mentioned. But the director had a vision, and when she explained it to Y/n, she started to see it too.

So she said yes to playing one of the lead roles. Y/n didn't meet Harry until the first table read, and at first she wondered if he was hired on to draw more attention to the movie, as he'd never acted in much before. But she realized pretty quickly that that wasn't the case.

Harry was gracious and kind and cared a lot about the project. He worked hard and asked everyone questions about so he could be better. He showed up early most days and never complained when night shoots ran late. He even brought coffee and pastries most mornings, even when there was an entire craft services set up.

It was safe to say that Harry was right for the job, on and off camera.

“Look, it really is just a suggestion. The movie would do just fine without it, but it might generate a bit more buzz if you did.”

Marie made good points, and Y/n trusted her completely. She knew her manager would never steer her wrong. “Well, you know my rules. And make sure Harry’s on board too. I won’t say yes I less he does.”

“You got it, boss," Marie said, and then she was gone in a flash, leaving Y/n by her lonesome.

The rest of the five minutes went by quickly, and before long, everyone was back in position, that hush enveloping the whole set once again.

Y/n loved that feeling just before the director called action. It was like she and whoever else she was acting with were the only people to exist. Peace settled into her bones as she took a few deep breaths, as hundreds of eyes inspected her every move, admired each one. Everything fell away when she acted. It was just her, her character, and the words she was meant to say.

Harry looked a little nervous, but Y/n just smiled kindly at him. Despite holding his own, he was still a little unsure of himself at times. He knew his lines, and had done a good job so far, better than good, really. Still, he'd come to Y/n for advice from time to time, and would even confess to being nervous on occasion.

"It's intimidating to act with so many talented people. Especially you."

"Me? Why me?"

"You make it look so easy. Leave some talent for the rest of us, would you?"

So Y/n became a mentor of sorts to Harry, which helped them grow closer as friends.

“Try to relax, you’re gonna be great,” she murmured to him, only loud enough so that they could hear.

“Thanks,” Harry said, grinning a little. “You too.”

Y/n smiled back, but once the director’s voice echoed across the silence, she was ready to fight with her secret lover.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

red lips and rosy cheeks.

“Smile!”

Harry turned towards the camera, a bright smile on his face.

The camera shutter clicked, and before long, a polaroid picture was in Y/n’s hands. Even though she didn’t have to, she waved the picture until the image appeared. Harry was all smiles. His cheeks were red from being out in the sun the last few days and freckles were starting to peek out from beneath his sunglasses.

“Cutie,” Y/n cooed, admiring the image in her hand. “You really do have an excellent smile.”

Harry blushed, but it just made her smile more. Taking the camera out of her hands, he pointed it in her direction. “Your turn.”

Y/n posed for the camera. She wasn’t the best at modeling but she did her best, though when Harry began to make faces and silly little comments, she couldn’t help but laugh around her wine glass.

They were wine tasting today. It was a day off from generating press on this vacation, but they still decided to spend some time together. Y/n was more than happy to oblige when Harry asked if she wanted to go wine tasting this afternoon. She feared that once this was all over, once the buzz from the movie died down, she and Harry wouldn’t hang out as much. It happened with every project she’d ever done. The cast would get close, but then life would happen and pull everyone in different directions. But she wanted this friendship with Harry to last, crush or not.

So she said yes to his invitation, more than happy to spend time alone with him. Did she take extra time picking out what she was going to wear? Yes, but she wasn’t going to read into it too much.

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i thought heaven can't help me now.

“This place is just gorgeous, isn’t it? I swear I’d give up acting to just have a little house, maybe even a vineyard like the one we went to, and live here. Just me and my eclectic group of animals.”

Harry chuckled as he picked a grape from the bunch on the picnic blanket you were sharing.

Re-shoots started about a week ago, so you and Harry were at a grand estate in Massachusetts. It was hot out, but not unbearably so. So to celebrate their last last scene filming together, Y/n nipped a bottle of wine, scrounged together some cheese, crackers, dried fruit, and a blanket, and invited Harry on a picnic on the opposite side of the property. They were away from all the cameras and crews and assistants and managers. Under a tree in the forest just beyond the estate, it was just them.

“We could get one together. It’d be rather successful, I think,” Harry said. He laid back on the blanket, stretching his arms behind his head. His shirt rode up to reveal a small sliver of his stomach, the tattoos he had still covered by stage makeup. Harry hated having to cover up tattoos, and not just because it meant extra hours in the makeup chair. He claimed tattoos made his body less boring.

Y/n kept her thoughts about his body to herself.

Shading her eyes, she looked down at Harry. “That would kind of defeat the purpose of being alone, though.”

“We’d have to keep it running somehow,” Harry said with a lazy shrug of his shoulders.

She tried to hide her smile at the sound of “we.” It would be hard enough as it was to say goodbyes without these thoughts on her head of her and Harry loving happily ever after on their own vineyard.

“We should probably get back. This place is huge, and I don’t trust either of us to find our way back after the sun sets.”

“A smart decision indeed.”

Y/n reached a hand out to help Harry to his feet, though she severely miscalculated her strength. She ended up slipping, landing on Harry with a soft oomph!

She laughed nervously, but didn’t move. They’d been in this position once before, but it was much different. There were cameras and people milling around and a director yelling “Cut!” and “Action!” and giving out pointers on how to make the scene more natural and fluid.

Now it was just them, with only a slight breeze and the occasional bird chirping to keep them company. The sun cast a golden light on Harry’s face, making his usual jade green eyes a beautiful amber. He truly is beautiful, Y/n thought, her eyes scanning every inch of his face.

“Y/n, what are you—”

“Oh God, nothing, I wasn’t thinking.”

Y/n scrambled away from Harry, not even wincing at the little rocks and sticks on the ground that scratched at her legs.

Almost as if in a trance, she had leaned down to kiss him. And for a split second, she thought Harry had leaned in too, but then he spoke and she’d obviously read the situation wrong.

Without even a glance in Harry’s direction, Y/n was speeding away. She wasn’t sure where she was going, all she knew was she needed to put as much distance between herself and Harry as possible.

How could she have been so stupid? Outside of their fake dates and scenes together, Y/n kept physical touch to a minimum, knowing that it would make her head all fluttery. But now? Now she couldn’t possibly hide her feelings from him. She tried to kiss him!

“Y/n! Y/n, wait!”

But she didn’t wait, she just kept going deeper and deeper into the forest, twigs and old leaves crunching beneath her old-timey costume shoes.

She couldn’t keep running forever, though, no matter how much she wanted to. Y/n was in shape thanks to her personal trainer, but she was still in her costume which cinched at the waist and wasn't the best to be running in. Her wig itched and her shoes pinched, so she eventually stopped, bending over as she panted.

“Oh thank God, these shoes are killing me.”

Harry was standing a few feet away, bent over just like Y/n was. The slick hairstyle he’d been given for this reshoot was falling limp over his brow, sweat lining his hairline. He straightened up before she did, though neither of them said anything for a minute or two.

Too focused on her breathing, Y/n didn’t notice Harry come closer to her. When she looked up, he was right in front of her.

“Was the running necessary?” he asked.

He was trying to lighten the mood, but Y/n was still absolutely mortified. “I—It was just in the moment, I swear. I know we’re just friends. Really, Harry, I’m so sorry. I—I would never want to ruin our friendshi—mmph”

“Shh.”

Harry pressed a finger to Y/n’s mouth, effectively shutting her up. Her eyes were wide as his looked her over, a blush forming on her cheeks when he focused on her lips.

Y/n’s heart was doing jumping jacks and flips in her chest as she waited for his next move. What was he doing? Was he messing with her? Why wasn’t he saying anyth—

And then his finger was gone and his lips were on hers. Y/n melted against him almost immediately. Like every other kiss she and Harry shared for work, this one just felt right, perhaps even moreso now that the only real motivation was because they wanted to.

But did he? Want to? What if he was only kissing her out of pity? He felt bad that she had feelings for him, and he was just trying to make her feel better.

“Stop—Why are you—Why are you doing this?”

“Well you —You were the one who tried to kiss me,” he said, though it sounded more like a question.

“It—It was just in the moment! I would never—I mean I don’t—”

“Oh, I get it,” Harry said, seeming to read the situation.

Y/n was ready for the rebuff, for Harry to tell her that he didn’t see her the way she saw him, that they were simply screen partners.

“You’re worried that if we sleep together it’ll ruin our friendship. But you don’t have to, not if we agree right now that feelings won’t get in the way. Should be easy, right? We’re friends.”

That was not at all what Y/n was expecting. She floundered for a moment, not really sure what to say. How was she supposed to tell him that it was too late? That feelings were already involved? She had to tell him, she knew that, but she was afraid of what would come after.

“Right. Easy. Just friends.”

Y/n knew it was wrong, and that she was an idiot for not telling the truth. But it was so hard to focus when one of his hands was on her waist and the other was gently cupping her face, all the while gazing down at her like he already had plans for when she agreed.

It’s just the movie, she told herself when he leaned in again. And again when he laid her down across her bed in the mansion. And she kept repeating that, telling herself that she didn’t have feelings for Harry, that she was merely attracted to her costar, nothing else.

She didn’t believe it, of course, but saying it made her feel better.

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his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.

Y/n woke up to the sound of rustling.

Blinking her eyes open, she saw Harry rummaging through piles of rumpled clothes on the floor of her hotel room. It wasn’t an uncommon sight these days, but seeing him leave so early caused a pang in her chest.

“Where are you going?” she asked, trying hard to sound casual.

Harry turned around, a small smile on his face as he buttoned his shirt. “Back to my room. We have a long day of press junkets, and I want to get in a trip to the gym before our first interview. I’ll see you later?”

Y/n nodded, barely registering a kiss on her cheek before he was gone. He did that occasionally, but not enough to make it feel like their strictly physical relationship was anything but that. At the start of all this, she wondered if Harry would someday develop feelings too, but to her dismay, he kept his word.

She’d hoped he would feel it too, that after a while, he would realize that there was something there between them. But he never commented on it or did anything that would possibly reveal reciprocated feelings.

They would spoon after sex and talk a little, and sometimes the conversations were deeper than surface level. It felt like Y/n would see the “real Harry,” the unfiltered version, only behind closed doors. Outside of hotel rooms, he treated her like everyone else. Unless they were on a fake date, if course. So she did the same, feeling guilty every time he left.

With a huff, she fell back against the bed, wondering how she’d gotten herself into this mess.

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some day when you leave me, i hope these memories follow you around.

Premiere night. The first of many.

Y/n was dressed to the nines in a gorgeous baby pink gown, her hair curled and styled to perfection. Her style was something along the lines of classically vintage, loving the idea of breathing new life into the idea of “Old Hollywood glam.”

Harry had yet to arrive, but he would be on the carpet any minute now.

It came as no surprise to Y/n that he wasn’t standing next to her, though. Part of their whole charade was to reveal that she and Harry had “broken up” by arriving separately to the first red carpet premiere.

So she stood tall and posed, ignoring shouts asking whether she and Harry had broken up. And when attention turned towards the start of the carpet, Y/n couldn’t help but look too.

Harry was there, looking absolutely breathtaking in a suit that fit from collar to cuff. But that wasn’t the shock of the night.

Y/n could barely hide her shocked expression as he helped someone out of his limo, holding back tears as she realized it was one of their costars.

She was immediately bombarded by questions and demands for her comment on the situation, but for a moment, all she could do was stare at the couple, at the way Harry leaned in and whispered something in the young woman’s ear.

But just as he was about to turn her way, she centered herself. She had no right to, but she felt like her heart was shattering into a million pieces, each one more jagged than the last.

She finished walking the red carpet without breaking down, she even managed a greeting from Harry and their other costar.

He didn’t even seem like anything was amiss, like he had been in on this fake betrayal from the start, a fact that gutted Y/n even more.

When she agreed to this arrangement, she made sure that Harry knew about it and was on board. They openly communicated and agreed to a plan before putting it in motion. So to be so blindsided by two people she considered friends, especially Harry, was horrible. She didn’t have to act betrayed for the cameras, she was betrayed. By Harry and his managers, perhaps even her own.

Everyone settled into the theater, and the movie shortly began.

It was turning out great, but Y/n couldn’t even focus on that as Harry and his new “girlfriend” giggled and flirted just one seat over.

It made her feel like an idiot. He told her they were just friends, and now she knew why. Maybe when he kissed her that day in the forest, their costar was unavailable. Harry was too, Y/n supposed, having been caught up in all the PR relationship business.

Did that make her someone Harry settled for? A consolation prize? She didn’t want to think so poorly of Harry when she thought she knew him so well, but apparently she didn’t, if the last hour was anything to go by.

Having had enough, Y/n promptly stood up, holding onto the poofy skirt if her dress as she quietly left the theater.

She felt like a fool, and she really only had herself to blame.

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

undeniable | porter gage x female! sole survivor

a/n: am i finally back on my bullshit, uploading on a random sunday night? this is different from what i usually write, but hey! im definitely writing something. im too tired to revise or edit this bc its 12 AM, so ill look it over in the morning. just thought i'd post something silly.

♡ based off a modern au where gage and the sole survivor are childhood bestfriends in another life.

For as long as Gage can remember, she’s been a burden. Being nearly five years older than her and her guardian -- or her best friend, as she likes to call him -- he’s always felt inclined to watch over her. He doesn’t know why, he knows he doesn't necessarily need to, but the thought of abandoning her feels wrong. So he tries to find reasons as to why -- was it because they both grew up in terrible conditions together and only had each other? Or was it because he knew the moment he let her dumbass go into the real world alone, she’d somehow get herself killed? 

He shakes his head. Finding a reason was nothing but a waste of time, his mind overworking itself more than it already was. He dumbs it down to simply getting used to the routine of caring for her since they were children. If he fucks up his schedule now, he’d have to go through the trouble of rearranging everything around once again and readjust to his new lifestyle. 

‘Yeah,’ he thinks to himself, unlocking his apartment door, twisting the knob, ‘It’ll be nothing but fucking trouble.’ 

Once he pushes the door open, his boots thumping against the tiled floor of his apartment, he sees her sitting on the couch, distracted by the show playing on the television. His eyes darted over to the coffee table in front of her, papers and open textbooks strewn across the poor thing, obviously untouched and just displayed prettily to mimic the idea that she was being productive. 

With a low grumble, he tosses his bag on the counter nearby and takes off his boots before grabbing the remote lying on the couch. She’s so invested in her little show that she barely even notices him walking in with a scowl and an annoyed sigh. Sole jumps when the television shuts off suddenly, a gasp leaving her lips before turning her head to the side. 

“Hey, I was watching!” she whines, already rising from the couch to pick another fight with him. He doesn’t show any reaction and instead, crosses his arms with an unimpressed expression while he holds the remote hostage. 

She tries her best to grab it from his hand but he rolls his eyes, gently pushing her back down onto the couch. 

“Quit watchin’ and start studyin’. Yer not gonna get shit done like this.” 

She huffs angrily, her eyes narrowing at him, “Gage, a little break wouldn’t hurt every once in a while.” 

“And what have you accomplished since I left for work this afternoon?” 

Sole swallows nervously, her mouth going dry at his questions as she opens and closes it, trying her best to stand her ground. He raises a brow, giving her a chance to respond and redeem herself, but he already knows. She was a fool for thinking she could get away with such a lie, knowing that Gage knew her better than anyone else.

“Thought so,” he stuffed the remote in the back of his pocket, “Now be a good girl and finish yer damn work. I’m not paying yer tuition for you to fuck around.” 

Sole groans but listens obediently, pulling the coffee table closer to her. She grabs her laptop and unlocks it, opening her notes before reaching over to snatch one of her textbooks. 

“I don’t understand why you’re on my ass about my studies so much, Gage,” she complains, highlighting something in her book a bit roughly, “You didn't even finish high school, so why does it even matter?” 

He doesn’t spare her much of an answer, walking over to the kitchen to find something to cook for them, “Exactly my point. You wanna be better than me.”  

“But you make so much money, you’re able to provide for both of us!” she throws her hands in the air, desperately trying to prove a point to her stubborn roommate, who seemed to be firm on his words.

“That’s only because I got connections. Now shut your mouth and study.” 

He doesn’t find much in the fridge nor the cabinets, silently setting a reminder in his mind to do a grocery run first thing tomorrow before work. Eventually, he decides to heat up some leftovers they had for lunch and cut up some fruit for her to snack on while she did her work. It’s shit, he knows, but it’ll do till tomorrow. 

He makes his way back to the living room, plopping on the couch next to her and setting the food on the coffee table, maintaining a good distance between their dinner and her work. The last thing he wanted was to spill anything on her laptop and notes -- it would only give her another reason not to be productive. 

He doesn’t say much, but his eyes flicker over to her for a moment, a small smile on his face at the sight of her seemingly focused on her work now, a sense of satisfaction overcoming him. Gage leans back on the couch, pulling his phone out to distract himself while he kept her company in the living room. He takes a few bites of his portion of the leftovers, glancing at Sole here and there to ensure she was still on track. 

It’s a peaceful few minutes, he can’t recall how long, as they both sit in silence, her music playing softly in the background to fill up the white noise. Suddenly, he hears a sigh, sounding a bit defeated, and his eyes set on her sulking figure. 

“Gage, I know that you want the best for me, but I’m nearly twenty-three and you still treat me like a kid.” he stares at her, not showing any reaction but notices how she refused to make eye contact with him, her eyes glued to the screen of her laptop. 

When she doesn’t get a response, she closes her eyes before turning her body towards him, her expression serious, but he can see right through her. She’s pleading, but not in an annoying bratty way like she usually does, so he decides to listen to her troubles. 

She scoots closer to him and he watches, his phone long forgotten in his hand, “I’m really grateful for you and all that, but you need to trust that I can do well in school and balance my time. You can’t take care of me forever.” 

Instead of getting a response like she’d hope for, she was met with the usual silence he often provided her when she tried to set her boundaries. With an irate expression, she turned back to her laptop, her face flushed in embarrassment, feeling like her words vanished into thin air. 

She should’ve known better than to talk to Gage — he was a man of few words and she didn’t know why she expected him to at least say something to show that he at least cared about her feelings one way or the other.

Before she could continue studying to hide her embarrassment and anger, she hears his voice and freezes. 

“I know.” his voice is gravelly, a bit of exhaustion mixed into it, and her head shoots to him, a bit stunned at his broken silence. Her eyes are wide, body paralyzed at the sudden response. There’s a slight flush on his face but she convinces herself it’s the lighting. 

Definitely. 

He knows she’s waiting for more than just that and he sighs, crossing his arms as he makes eye contact with her the best he can without losing his shit, “Just want you to have a good future. Want you to live a better life than what I’m giving you right now before I send you off.” 

Suddenly, she’s overcome with guilt and she immediately leans over to him, her hands finding his as she cuts him off, “No, that’s not what I meant!”

With another breath, she composes herself before speaking. 

“Gage, you’ve given me everything I’ve wanted and needed, the last thing I’ll ever do is criticize your care for me. I don’t plan on leaving your side, even when I get a better life.” 

His heart twinges and his feelings for her resurface, but he pushes it down. 

She pulls on the sleeves of his hoodie, playing with the fabric with her fingers, “I just want you to trust me more. I know I’ve been slacking a bit, but I’d never fail school, especially when I know you’re working hard to provide for both of us and paying for my tuition. I’d never do that to you.”

“Wouldn’t say I’m working hard,” he downplays it, not wanting her to fret about such a miniscule matter. 

She groans, “You work twelve hour shifts everyday. Sometimes fourteen!”

He shrugs nonchalantly and Sole pouts at his stubbornness, smacking his arm with annoyance. Gage bites back a smirk, amused by her behavior and catches her wrist midair, her eyes rolling. Instead of providing her with a response, he digs in his pocket and hands her the remote to the TV and her eyes light up, a smile forming on her pretty face. His heart aches at the sight. It was such a small action but it was more than enough to validate her feelings. 

“Thank you, you’re the best!” she jumped over, throwing her arms around his neck as she embraced him tightly. 

His face flushed heavily and tried to seem annoyed to cover it up but the stutter in his voice and the tenseness of his shoulders gave it away. Gage pushed her away with his hand as he groaned quietly, “I get it, don’t need to be so damn happy about it.” 

However, she pecked his cheek and he froze instantly, his body paralyzed and his voice raising in embarrassment, “Q-Quit it!”

She giggles and doesn’t take much offense to his words, knowing that he was nothing but a big softie for her. As she released him, she smiled at him happily once more before turning to the TV and putting her show back on. 

Gage rubbed the spot where she kissed, his face a deep red as he tried to regain his composure. Suddenly, he pushes down the real reason of why he refused to leave her side for the millionth time, reminding himself that there were several other possibilities other than that. 

‘What a damn burden,’ he thinks to himself, desperately trying to fight back his feelings for her, his eyes glued to her gleeful form next to him. 

Suddenly, her kiss lingered on his skin a little too long, the feeling of her arms around him marking his skin, and he’s left absolutely horrified, realizing that he could no longer convince himself otherwise. 

Maybe accepting it was better than constantly running and Gage thinks it over for a moment but ultimately shakes his head, wanting to do anything but that. 

‘Just a stupid thought. Some stupid fucking feelings,’ he settles for that answer but knows deep down that he’s already lost the battle, his heart hammering in his chest. 

[likesunsetorange]

bodyguard au wip

here's a wip from mikasa's pov! i won't give much context bc it'll kinda spoil it LOL but i think you can kinda put two and two together haha

From what she’s seen, Eren’s probably not even the worst person they could have stuck her with—he didn’t seem all that bad initially. At the minimum, she could appreciate his attempts at giving her space; despite whether or not he’d been made aware of her circumstances, to say the least, he at least had the decency to take note of her blatant displeasure with the situation and act accordingly. Even with all her pent-up aggression and hostility, Mikasa couldn’t even deny the fact that she found herself enjoying their little talk; even if her apology was all part of her attempt to get him to trust her, she couldn’t say that part of it wasn’t at least somewhat genuine.

And it’s because of this that she can’t help but harbor the smallest amount of guilt, knowing that Eren is, in fact, not a terrible person, yet she’s making him collateral in her attempts at trying to spite her parents. She hates to even admit that he seems kind, and he certainly doesn’t deserve the shit she’s put him through over the past week. It isn’t even all his fault—he has a job to do, and she knows whatever her parents are paying him had been enough for him to be willing to drop everything from his previous life and work for them at a moment’s notice. 

Feelings and guilt aside, however, she knew she needed him gone, and if making his life a little miserable was enough to get him to quit, she’d do whatever was necessary. Maybe in a different life, they’re friends, hell, lovers even, she can’t deny he’s easy on the eyes. But in this one, Mikasa just has to be the villain, unfortunately. She’s not proud of it, but she tells herself that all the insults and bitchy comments are for a greater purpose, and maybe she might have gone too far, but can you really blame her? 

She knows her behavior is teetering the lines of desperate, maybe even borderline psychotic, but she’s sure Eren has dealt with much worse than some twenty-one-year-old brat—he would be fine. Mikasa was certain Levi and Kenny had told her about her behavior—just how difficult she could be. And she didn’t put it past him to look up things about her, making his own assumptions just like everyone else did. But it wouldn’t matter if he quit—all her antics would have been worth it if Eren would wake up, realize this job isn’t worth dealing with someone like her, and he’d be gone before she knew it. But Mikasa, despite someone who she thinks is worthy of being deemed intelligent, calculated even, put so much thought into this little plan of hers—it seemed foolproof, almost. She had been holding every ounce of certainty that she would come out the other side successful, glowing with pride, and yet another instance of her spiting her parent. But she, unfortunately, made a miscalculation—she never once considered the possibility that Eren might be just as headstrong as she is. Because in Eren, she’s met her match.