darksidedelights

[pookalicious-hq]

endgame || pt. 2 to tolerate it

caitlin clark x reader (previous paige bueckers x reader) || previous: tolerate it || masterlist

notes: fluff, lmk if you guys want more caitlin stuff!! sorry for taking so long lmao, hope you like it <3

now playing: endgame by taylor swift

Endless streams of black silk flowed along her arms, down the small of her back, the weightless tule pooling at her feet. Gems stitched across the expanse caught sight of the flashing glares, absorbing the endless bursts of light. 

(Y/n) had been positioned at the beginning of the velvety carpet, the expanse of red spreading to the entrance of the 2024 WNBA draft.

With her smiles, she carried along her reputation. She held the weight of tonight's unknown outcomes atop her head, her chin never wavering. Soon, (Y/n) would take the first leap, discarding everything and everyone who dared to trap her in the past. 

Luckily, she wouldn’t be alone. 

“Caitlin! (Y/n)! To your left here, please!”

The two girls moved together in unison at the request. An arm clad in white made its way around (Y/n)’s waist, finding solace in the familiar position. Soft smiles were placed upon their features. Their presence swallowed the venue whole, demanding attention. 

Before, (Y/n) would’ve shied away from the sudden spotlight. She had been taught that seeking attention was greed, and only those who deserved it received it.

Now, she learned from someone else. 

She met a girl whose love contrasted with anything she’d ever learnt before. Every word the girl spoke had been dipped in nectar. Apologizes were sent along with flowers and warmth, there wouldn’t be room for doubt anymore. 

Ever since that night, days with Caitlin moulded into months. Savoured kisses were hidden behind curtains, bodies tangled beneath soft sheets. 

Anyone would assume they had been cut from the same cloth given their natural lines that effortlessly fit together. 

Now here they stood. After a lengthy conversation, the two eventually decided to make their first appearance together. 

Another thing Caitlin had drilled into (Y/n)’s mind; never change who you are.

They addressed no comments towards their relationship. Only offering welcoming replies, carefully steering from the unsaid questions that plagued everyone’s mind: what were (Y/n) and Caitlin to each other?

If they had real answer, they would’ve told any who asked. But, unfortunately that was still a question left unanswered between the two girls. 

Of course, they were friends. They had been friends ever since playing on the same team in seventh grade. They were friends who had shared each other’s first kiss. They were friends ever since they knew what it meant to want the princess, not the prince. 

Being friends was the safest option. They both lead a busy life. There wasn’t much they could do together but send a ‘happy birthday <3’ text when they lived (about) 1000 miles away.

Though, together now, there still lied this unanswered question. 

“Did I mention you look gorgeous, love?” 

Caitlin’s soft murmur travelled across the expanse of (Y/n)’s neck, the sensation sparking warmth throughout her body. She swept her gaze upwards towards the brunette, eyebrows raised playfully. 

“Yeah,” (Y/n) laughed, “like, three times already. You’re so dumb, Cait.”

Her last words were laced with love, of course, Caitlin knew what she was doing. After her comment, (Y/n) stepped out of Caitlin’s reach, continuing her path down the carpet. The brunette’s gaze trailed behind the deep cut of her black gown, she was never out of Caitlin’s sight.

It was a given that they would be separated tonight. Even before their arrival together, they had been the main topic of the night. Everyone wanted to talk to the all-time NCAA leading scorer from Iowa just as equally as they wanted to talk to the March Madness MVP from South Carolina.

Flash

“Please stand here for an interview, miss.”

“(Y/n), who are you wearing tonight?”

“Caitlin, how are you feeling?”

“Please sign my jersey, I love you guys so much!”

Every comment, instruction and praise was met with the genuine smile that places itself on her features. Her gown flowed along the carpet as she made her way towards her third interview of the night. However, her steady gait soon faltered as her gaze found an unexpected variable in her path. The shock rippled through her, momentarily freezing her in place. It had been months since they last spoke, since they last exchanged words that weren't filled with bitterness and hurt.

Paige's presence hit (Y/n) like a sudden gust of wind, stirring up memories that she had buried deep within herself. She remembered the laughter they’d shared, the late-night conversations, the warmth of Paige's embrace. Unfortunately, alongside those memories came the pain of their parting, the arguments, the tears, the lingering sense of resentment.

But, despite those average thoughts that came up on the topic of Paige, (Y/n) now felt something additional, something different. 

As she stood there, her gaze briefly catching Paige's figure in the crowd, a wave of indifference washed over her. It wasn't that (Y/n) harboured any ill will towards Paige—far from it. (Sure, if Paige tripped and fell in that moment she would laugh at her pain, but no one would know that.) She had long since disregarded her for the actions of the past. But forgiveness didn't equate to a desire to rekindle what once was.

Paige Bueckers had exited her life. Whether anyone else thought differently, it didn’t matter. 

Her performance over her college years had granted her a seat at the table. 

Well, her own table.

She stood atop the stage among teammates and competitors she’d met over the years. The only difference this moment held, they would all be happy for each other no matter the outcome. Every player here had earned this moment. 

And no one would doubt that (Y/n) and Caitlin deserved this moment. 

Hard work leads to rewards. 

But, hard work and raw talent lead to a spotlight reserved for the best.

The line defining the two is a delicate balance, one that is forced to put both against each other. Nevertheless, what the media depicts as a head-to-head is never the true case.

Throughout their careers, Caitlin and (Y/n) had unwillingly been placed on opposite sides of a scale. What others perceived as a rivalry, the two girls simply considered their competitive nature. Nevertheless, they found no reason to acknowledge the headlines.

Who would be granted the championship? 

Who would the title of MVP belong to?

Who would win? 

On that significant night, (Y/n) and Caitlin painted a masterpiece of determination and skill. As the clock dwindled to its final seconds, Caitlin conceded—it was (Y/n)'s turn to shine. And shine she did, her brilliance lighting up the court with a mesmerizing career high of 39 points.

South Carolina roared with triumph, claiming the championship banner, while (Y/n) (L/n) ascended to MVP status. Amidst the cacophony of celebration, whispers of debate lingered, but for most, there was no denying—she had earned her crown.

Now, on this electric draft night, (Y/n) waded through a sea of flashing lights and eager faces, her senses alive with anticipation. The air crackled with anticipation, pregnant with the promise of new beginnings and boundless opportunities. Yet, amidst the excitement, one question lingered—whose name would be called first?

With each step, purpose pulsed through (Y/n)'s veins, a steady rhythm guiding her forward. Tonight wasn't just about personal glory—it was the culmination of years of dedication, an opportunity to showcase her artistry on the grandest stage.

As she settled into her seat at the draft table, nerves and excitement tangled in her chest. The room buzzed with energy, a symphony of voices and whispered dreams. But amid the chaos, one figure stood out—Caitlin, a beacon of unwavering support, making her way to (Y/n) with purpose.

"Hey there, superstar," Caitlin's voice, a melody of pride and affection, washed over (Y/n) like a warm embrace. Leaning in, she planted a tender kiss on her lover's cheek, igniting a spark that danced across her skin.

(Y/n) returned the gesture with a soft smile, her heart overflowing with love. "Hey yourself," she murmured, reaching out to intertwine her fingers with Caitlin's, their connection a lifeline in the swirling chaos.

"Okay, sassy are we?" Caitlin teased, a playful twinkle in her eyes.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, her laughter a melody that danced through the air. At that moment, amidst the clamour of the crowd, they were a symphony unto themselves.

Though, soon enough, the minutes they were sharing vanished as the familiar chords sung, marking the beginning of the 2024 WNBA draft. The look shared between the two girls could only be described as duplicated. While their loving smiles spoke ‘good luck’, their eyes held nothing but determination. With one final squeeze to (Y/n)’s hand, Caitlin weaved back through the tables and took her seat. 

Truthfully, (Y/n) couldn’t give a damn about the speech that Cathy Engelbert was reading. The probably scripted words only added to the weight on her heart as she awaited her next team assignment. Despite the dragging minutes, she kept up a facade of interest for the camera.

“And now, we don’t have to wait any longer because the pick is in!”

Those words flipped a switch in (Y/n)’s mind, her senses sharpening as Cathy Engelbert took the stage, her heels clicking against the polished floor. Each click echoed through the room, a metronome counting down to the pivotal moment. The air was thick with tension, electric and charged, every breath laden with anticipation.

The moment drew closer and closer.

“With the first pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, the Indiana Fever select…”

The words hung in the air, estatic with possibility. Everyone held their breath as the selection came down to two athletes. (Y/n) glanced over to Caitlin’s table, finding her already searching for her eyes.

“Caitlin Clark, University of Iowa!”

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, the room erupting in chaos as the crowd roared in ecstasy. (Y/n)’s heart thundered in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was a rush, overwhelming and intoxicating.

With her eyes still locked onto Caitlin’s, she broke into a blinding smile, Caitlin mirroring her. In that moment, everything else faded into the background, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

(Y/n) stood, her heart pounding, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Every step toward Caitlin felt like an eternity, the ground solid beneath her feet. Suspense hung in the air like a heavy fog, thick and suffocating.

With a barely contained laugh, she tumbled into Caitlin’s embrace, the world spinning around them. Nothing else mattered but the warmth of Caitlin’s arms around her, the sound of their shared laughter drowning out the noise of the crowd.

“You did it. You deserve this, Caitlin,” (Y/n) spoke, her voice ringing clear over the clamour of the crowd. Her words were a declaration, a testament to Caitlin’s strength and resilience. Her final words slipped out in a hush, “I love you.”

Amidst the cacophony of noise and celebration, Caitlin held onto (Y/n) as if she were the anchor in a tempest. Each beat of her heart reverberated with the pulse of the crowd, her senses heightened by the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was a moment suspended in time, a fleeting eternity of shared joy and boundless emotion.

As Caitlin finally released her grip, (Y/n) felt a bittersweet pang in her chest. Her heart swelled with pride for her friend, yet beneath the surface, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm her. In another time, her stomach might have plummeted, her throat constricted by the weight of unshed tears. But now, amidst the chaos of the draft, she found only a sense of serene acceptance.

Her gaze lingered on Caitlin, the embodiment of success and possibility, as she stood adorned in her Indiana Fever jersey. In that moment, (Y/n) glimpsed the future unfolding before her, a future that held boundless potential and untold promise.

Returning to her own table, (Y/n) was met with sympathetic glances and unspoken assumptions. But she brushed them aside with a knowing smile, the genuine ecstasy of Caitlin's triumph shining through her features. For in that moment, she understood that second place held no sting, no bitterness. Caitlin's victory was her own.

The room buzzed with anticipation as the attention shifted to the second pick of the night, belonging to the LA Sparks. (Y/n)'s heart raced with a mix of nerves and excitement. She couldn't help but steal glances at Caitlin, who was now enveloped in the embrace of her family, her smile radiant with joy.

As the tension mounted, (Y/n)'s mind raced back to all the years of hard work and putting up with undeserved bullshit. She remembered the countless hours spent on the court, the sacrifices made, and the people she overcame. It had all led to this, the culmination of a lifelong dream.

But amidst the anticipation, there was a sense of contentment that washed over her. She had already achieved so much, and seeing Caitlin's success only fueled her determination. Her focus remained unwavering, her heart filled with pride for her lover.

And then, it happened.

"With the second pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, the LA Sparks select... (Y/n) (L/n)!"

The words echoed through the room, but Mayari hardly registered them at first. It was as if time stood still, her mind unable to comprehend the magnitude of what had just been announced.

But then, reality crashed over her like a wave. The cheers of the crowd filled her ears, and she felt a surge of emotion welling up inside her. The room seemed to spin, the lights blurring into a dazzling array of colours as she stood, her legs trembling with a mix of exhilaration and disbelief. The warmth of the moment enveloped her, and with every beat of her heart, she felt the weight of everything she had worked for lifting off her shoulders.

Just then, amidst the applause of the crowd, she heard melodic notes of her name being called out.

Suddenly, (Y/n)’s world tilted on its axis as she was swept up into Caitlin’s embrace. Their gazes locked smiles mirroring one another in joyous ecstasy. The sounds of the cheering crowd seemed to fade, replaced by the pounding of her own heart and the warmth of Caitlin's arms around her. 

"I love you too," Caitlin whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd.

(Y/n) felt her heart swell, her emotions threatening to overflow. They rested their foreheads against each other, their breaths mingling as they shared the profound intimacy of the moment. It was as if the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them in their shared victory.

The fans in the crowd went wild, their cheers and applause creating a wave of sound that crashed over the two girls. Cameras flashed, capturing the raw emotion etched on their faces. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, one that neither of them would ever forget.

As they finally pulled apart, (Y/n) felt a laugh bubble out of her throat, the sound drawing an admirable expression from the brunette. She turned to face the stage, her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. This was it—the moment she had dreamed of for so long.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/n) made her way to the stage, the cheers of the crowd propelling her forward. She felt the warmth of their support, the love and pride radiating from every corner of the room. This was her moment, a testament to all the hard work, the sacrifices, and the unwavering determination that had brought her here.

As she stepped onto the stage to accept her LA Sparks jersey, she glanced back at Caitlin, who was watching her with a look of pure, unadulterated pride. (Y/n) knew, in that moment, that they had both achieved something extraordinary and that this was just the beginning of their journey.

With the weight of the jersey in her hands and the future spread out before her like a vast, open sky, she felt a profound sense of peace and accomplishment. The journey had been long and arduous, filled with moments of doubt and resilience, but standing there under the bright lights, she knew it had all been worth it.

As she held up the jersey, a symbol of her new beginning, her eyes swept across the sea of faces, each one a blur of colors and emotions. The lights above her were warm, casting a golden glow that bathed the room in a surreal, dreamlike quality.

Her gaze found Paige amidst the cheering crowd. Paige's smile was radiant, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her expression a blend of pride and a quiet acknowledgment of their shared past. The sounds of applause and cheers seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the rhythmic thudding of (Y/n)'s heart. The moment hung in the air, thick with unspoken words, a silent reconciliation and mutual respect woven between them.

(Y/n)'s heart swelled, a rush of warmth spreading through her chest, filling her with a deep sense of closure and peace. She returned Paige's smile, a genuine and heartfelt gesture, before her gaze naturally found its way back to Caitlin. Caitlin's eyes sparkled with joy, her love and pride shining brightly, grounding (Y/n) in the whirlwind of emotions surrounding her.

Caitlin's eyes were bright with joy and love, reflecting everything (Y/n) felt in that moment. The applause of the crowd seemed to fade into the background as they shared a private, intimate moment amidst the public celebration. Caitlin, in all her seriousness, blew (Y/n) a kiss, a tender gesture that drew a smile out from her. (Y/n), with a smile, reached out as if to catch it and then graciously tucked it into her pocket.

As she stood there, the weight of her journey lifted, she knew this was the beginning of a new chapter. With Caitlin's silent encouragement echoing in her mind, she felt ready to embrace whatever came next. The next step would be difficult, but it was hers to shape, and she would no longer be alone.

a/n: IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG SHIT'S BEEN TOUGH. anyways hope you liked it, if you wanna see more cc x reader lmkk also next chapter of midnight love will come out soon IM SERIOUS I PROMISE DON'T HATE ME

anyways thank you for the support love you guys, mwah <3

taglist: @kenzie-luvzz , @idratherbesleepingrn , @h34rtsformilli , @pinkandlilacroses , @i-bribri-i , @thatonemarvelfan03 , @girlokwhatever , @ihrtthotdads , @kc88888888 , @nfleditsrjustbetteridk , @imsobabygiirl , @vi0lentb3rry , @sejus-wife , @katemlk , @littlelesbianinternujung, @ktaerssoi, @evangelinexo , @c999sh , @yazmunson , @choibeomkai , @ekisokay

[euphoricfilter]

im in LOVE w your yandere ddlg fics… can i request one w namjoon? 🫣🫣 i feel like he fits the ddlg concept so well ugh

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦:

pairing: yandere! namjoon x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship au ||

summary: if namjoon’s life were a book, he thinks the day his eyes set on you, it had been the start of a fairytale. where he is the prince, and you, his princess.

word count: 5.5k

tags/ warnings: disgusting amounts of fluff, buff bf namjoon, reader is definitely an ipad baby, she’s also very very spoiled, and very very shy, ddlg themes, non-sexual dom joon, descriptions of murder, a few references to literature, smut in the forms of: unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), dom! namjoon, sub! reader, he’s girthy, size kink, cockwarming, belly bulge, dick riding, female masturbation, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of praise, and she’s a bit of a pillow princess, aftercare

notes: i agree!! he fits this concept so well!! and thank you for reading my other works babes! and here i present my last post of 2022! if there are mistakes, no there aren’t you didn’t see anything

request rules can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You were Namjoon’s fairytale dream. A distressed princess locked in the wicked witch’s tower— that was this corrupt world that the two of you lived in.

Him, your knight in shining armour, sweeping you off your feet and dressing you in pretty dresses and jewels just like a true princess.

Truthfully Namjoon liked the classics better, words articulated like poetry and feelings forever carved into paper with ink. Little pieces of each author weaved into each book they’d ever written, secrets between pages and fantasies hidden behind flowery words. Hours upon hours of knowledge stacked up in Namjoon’s mind, useless little things that no one had ever cared to ask him about.

Perhaps romance novels were his guilty pleasure. That sickly feeling you get, reading about two people so in love that you have to sit back and realise that your own life is nothing more than a slow burn. Where truly, you’re the side character that is left and forgotten, watching the people around you— the main cast of the story, fall in love and find their god-awful happiness that you can only dream of.

You see, Namjoon had learnt how patience was a virtue. He’d waited year and years for that love story, for the perfect, pure, unadulterated adoration for another human, like in all those romance novels.

Countless flings and unexplainable anger from all the women who had shattered his heart over and over again had led him to you. Had steered him towards the right path. Perhaps like the yellow brick road, him being Dorothy and you, Emerald City. His final destination.

You’d always been awfully shy. Something Namjoon completely adored about you. Something he knew you were a little insecure about; among other things.

His remedy to your doubt, fucking you until all you knew was his and your names. Fucked so dumb you could only cry, clinging onto him like he weren’t the wolf and you weren’t little red, pure white dove chomped and chewed in his jaws like Carol Ann Duffey had described— you locked in his claws as he ripped away at tattered old clothing.

Past relationships had ended on bad terms for you, similar to himself, because it seemed no one had ever taken the time to read into you properly. Hadn’t taken the time to map out your story on paper and analyze you; the perfect specimen, the apple of his eye, a goddess among humans and his pretty little princess.

So soft and so pretty. Something a little sick, twisted, in his mind that he’d been able to lock you away in a cage like a bird, delicate little wings snapped in two where escape was impossible; thoughts of a life without him nothing more than a breathy whisper in the wind.

“Which one do you want today, sweetheart?” Namjoon’s arm laces around your shoulder, tugging you closer into his side. Your Mary Janes tapping gently against the tile floor.

You peer into the display case, fingers tightly clasped around the sleeve of his hoodie; an anchor for your fraying feelings, anxiety creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t rush you, simply raising an eyebrow at the worker behind the counter who gets angsty at your thoughtful pondering. Line of customers slowly building behind the two of you; and Namjoon can hear a few impatient mutters.

“Strawberry, please” you fall back into his side, weight solely dependent on Namjoon holding you up.

Your boyfriend turns his attention back towards the barista, fingers carding through your hair.

“One americano, a hot chocolate and one of the strawberry cakes, thank you” he turns his attention back to you; watching as you rock and forth on your heels.

“Why don’t you go and pick a table out for us, darling?”

You hum, fingers tugging at his sleeve mindlessly once more before you’re scampering towards a table by the window.

Namjoon feels his cock twitch in his pants as you bend over the table slightly, collecting the discarded straw wrappers that had been left on the table; and he watches your skirt raise a little up your thighs, supple skin taunting him.

He doesn’t bother with whatever the barista tells him, pushing his card across the counter as he watches you; legs bouncing anxiously as you grip the hem of your shirt, finally taking a seat.

He waves at you as he waits at the end of the counter, the scent of freshly brewed coffee thick in the air and Namjoon worries about the impeding headache you’re sure to have.

“Here you go, pretty” he places the tray in the middle of the table, tutting when you go to grab your mug of hot chocolate. You simply fall back into your chair, eyes trained on Namjoon’s hand as he places your drink before you.

“Thank you” you smile up at him as he pulls out the chair beside you.

“You’re welcome” he coos, dragging your chair closer to his own, his neck craning to kiss your temple.

Your smile is shy though your attention is quickly snatched by his fingers that dig around the pocket of his hoodie.

He pushes his phone to your side of the table, hand laying heavy on the back of your neck as you pick it up.

“I’m gonna get a new high score” you tell your boyfriend, turning to give him a determined smile as your tap tap tile game loads.

“Yeah?” he asks, eye smile so pretty you get lost looking at him for a moment. Only snapping out of your own little reverie when he blows on your hot chocolate. “Drink up” he reminds you.

You nod, delicate fingers picking your mug up by the handle, and you watch as Namjoon brings his own coffee to his lips for a taste.

“Good?”

You nod, “Good”

Namjoon’s thumb continues to brush over the back of your neck as you hunch over the table, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you load up one of the songs of your game.

Your mouth falls open when Namjoon’s fingers dig into the back of your hair, tugging your head back.

He watches as your lips close around the forkful of cake he feeds you, endeared smile on his face as a little bit of the cream clings to the corners of your lips. You don’t seem to take much notice as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen of his phone.

Your lips part after swallowing, tongue peeking out to lick at the pad of Namjoon’s thumb before he’s slipping it into your mouth.

“Yummy?” he asks, and you fall back into your chair— game suddenly long forgotten as Namjoon’s thumb lays heavy on your tongue.

You nod, fingers itching for the fork. Your boyfriend simply tuts, “Let me do that for you” his thumb slips out of your mouth, soon replaced with another large forkful of strawberries and cream.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon’s attention is quickly snatched from his laptop when he hears a gentle knock on the door of his home office.

You always seemed to count a few seconds before you opened the door, always mindful that he was often busy; even if he’d made it clear that he was never too busy for you.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he closes his laptop, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“You’re not in bed” you whisper, still lingering in the doorway. Frilly-socked feet shuffling anxiously against the carpet.

Namjoon thinks you look like a dream, eyes heavy with lingering sleep, thin strap of your silk nightdress slipping off your shoulder as you curl in on yourself. Always ever so shy, even after years together.

He’d taken his time pampering you that evening. An hour spent in the bath where’d he’d lathered your body in thick suds of soap, sweet smelling like roses that had sat in the summer sun all afternoon, skin warm like petals that had basked in the golden rays of light. Silent promises of a love that will last forever, until he takes his last breath, until the world ceases to exist and his love can longer be— traced under light fingertips that knew your body better than you ever would.

You squirmed as he’d rubbed lotion into every inch of skin your body had to offer— body his temple, your soul his goddess that he worshiped like you were his only purpose in life. Each breath he took, every step he’d continue to take, everything for you.

You’d laid spread across his lap as he’d worked any knots out of your back before dressing you up pretty for bed. Flimsy silk nightdress tickling your skin, brushing against bare thighs, where Namjoon’s hands had the freedom to roam your body until you’d been giggling at him to stop.

His favorite pastime, brushing your hair before bed; his hands those of Rumplestiltskin, each strand treated like intricately created golden thread, gentle as he tugs each knot until perfect.

He’d been there when you’d fallen asleep, bones jelly after he’d fingered you to an orgasm and mind nothing more than cotton candy softness as you’d tugged your precious little bunny to your chest. A gift he’d given you your first date together; and although you claimed you never had favorites , it was always his bunny that remained in your arms as you slept.

And truly he thought tonight he would finish up the last of the project he’d been given, the rest of the week yours; his time cupped in your hands to use however you pleased. The smile you were sure to give him each day after work, worth the pain of a single one nighter.

“I have some work to finish up, why don’t you go lay down, and I’ll be there in a little while” he tilts his head, gentle smile toying at the corners of his lips.

Your lips mould into a pout, “No” you shake your head, voice pulling out a little whiny “You have to come with me, Joonie. Right now”

“But I’m busy, darling” he coos, rolling his chair away from his desk. Legs falling open and he wonders how long it’ll take you to crawl into his lap.

He watches you thrown yourself to the floor, falling to your knees with a dull thump, and he worries they’ll bruise. You don’t seem to care, too pre-occupied with the start of your bubbling tantrum to care about any future injuries; you’ll be sure to milk all of your boyfriend’s sympathy when you he patches you up later. Crying until he’s kissing it all better, and maybe he’ll buy you a gift for being so brave.

He’d seen you scrolling through a few shops online earlier in the day before dinner, rosy-red blush painting your cheeks at a few items you’d hopefully saved.

You hiccup, stuffed bunny clung to your chest as you shake your head. “No, no” you sniffle, “You have to come now” your legs kick a little underneath you.

It was no secret that Namjoon liked to spoil you. Truthfully, he didn’t see the issue— what else was he supposed to do when housing a little princess? If you wanted something then who was he to say no?

Especially when you looked up at him through wet lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks like freshly fallen rain would the petal of a flower.

“Don’t cry” he frowns, heart clenching at the utter distraught on your face; cheeks glazed in saline tears and eyes watery, another miserable cry ready to slip past your lips. “Come here, my precious little baby”

The sob you let out is pitiful, bunny’s fluffy little paw held so tight in your hand as you push yourself to stand. Floppy ears soaking up your tears as you wipe your cheeks.

Namjoon’s hand’s curl under your thighs as you push yourself into his lap, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.

“oh dolly” he croons, “You’ve been fussy all day, haven’t you? What’s wrong?”

Your arms wrap around his neck, face tucked tightly into his shoulder as you choke on another sob. Bunny tucked between your chests.

His thumb is gentle as it brushes over the top of your thighs.

“Tell me what happened” he rests his cheek against the top of your head, mean little smile pulling at his cheeks as your sobs fizzle to little hiccups.

“Work” you whisper, fingers threading into his hair, tugging rhythmically as you mouth at his neck.

“What happened at work?”

You whine, pushing your body flush against Namjoon’s. His hands wander, grabbing your ass as you rock forwards; bare pussy brushing over his pyjama pants.

“There’s a— there’s a new guy” your hips falter and Namjoon holds in a groan as your weight settles right over his cock.

Namjoon hums, “What about him?”

“He—“ a breathy moan drips off your tongue as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass.

“He what, darling? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong” he murmurs, fingers mean as he tugs your face away from his neck by the back of your hair.

Your mouth falls open, and Namjoon watches your eyes glaze over, though this time it’s not tears; and he wonders if you can see how ruined you look in the reflection of his glasses.

“Tell me” your thighs clenching at his tone.

You whimper, “He said a bad word, can’t say it”

Namjoon’s head tips backwards, “Go ahead and say it, baby. I won’t get mad”

“Promise?”

He smiles, endeared “Promise”

“He asked me on a date” your fingers grasp onto the neckline of his shirt, and your boyfriend hums, “I said no, because I have a boyfriend”

“And?”

He watches as your bottom lip quivers, breath hitching in your throat. “Said you didn’t need to know, could be a quick fuck in the back room”

Namjoon’s jaw ticks, “What’s his name?” his fingers skim over your jaw, your hips jutting forward. “Name, darling”

“Jimin” you breathe, “Told Nana, and she said she’d talk to him”

“Yeah?” Namjoon hums, “I’ll sort him out, okay?”

“Okay” you nod.

“Well done for telling me, darling” he smiles, an attempt to ease any lingering anxiety you had. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate work when you enjoyed it so much.

Your hips rut forwards, Namjoon pulling your nightdress up around your hips, watching as your bare cunt drags over his slowly hardening cock.

You lean forwards, lips brushing over Namjoon’s jaw as his hands guide your hips. You moan as the head of his cock brushes over your clit.

“Feel good, darling?” Namjoon’s breathing is heavy, one of his arms tucking under your thighs as he hoists you further up his chest, his free hand tugging his pants down.

Your hand travels between your bodies, tips of your fingers brushing over Namjoon’s slit, precum oozing out the tip as your hand runs down his length.

“Up you get” he helps you, head of his cock running through your slit as you roll your hips forwards.

You bite down on your bottom lip, watery whines bubbling up your throat with each nudge of your boyfriend’s cock running over your clit. Arousal seeps past your folds down Namjoon’s length.

You hold his cock against your cunt, Namjoon’s fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you didn’t seem to care all that much as your hips roll forward.

“Inside Joonie” you whine, tongue laving over the skin of his neck.

Namjoon takes a hold of the base of his cock, and you use his shoulders as leverage, chair wobbling under your joint weight as you line up his cockhead with your hole.

Your fingers run through your folds, wetness soaking your fingers as you circle your clit gently, Namjoon helping you as the tip of his cock brushes over your hole. And you let out an involuntary whine as the stimulation.

Your arms wrap around Namjoon’s neck, head of his cock splitting you open as you ease yourself down an inch before you’re pulling off slowly.

“Your pretty little pussy is so small” Namjoon groans. Flared cockhead pulling your pussy taught as you try and ease down lower.

You breath gets stuck in your throat, Namjoon’s fingers gently thumbing at your clit as you clench around his length. Slowly starting to stuff each agonizing inch into your cunt.

You whine as you reach the hilt, hips rutting forward messily. You moan at the lick of please that wracks through your body with each slow drag of Namjoon’s thick cock against your walls.

Namjoon pulls your face away from hiding by the back of your neck, tugging you until your lips mould into one, tongue pushed into your mouth, fresh minty toothpaste coating his tastebuds.

You start to bounce in his lap, childish impatience starting to take over as you chase after an orgasm. Always a little greedy when it came to your own pleasure, using Namjoon to get yourself off before you ever allow him to chase his own release.

“That’s it” he moans, unabashed in his arousal.

Namjoon uses his legs as an anchor, holding the two of you in place, ensuring the chair doesn’t tip over as the back of your thighs slap against the top of his own.

You moan as his thumb continues to brush over your clit, a ring of your arousal gathered at the base of his cock with each jittery raise of your hips.

“Doing so well for me” Namjoon groans, “Always such a good girl, yeah?”

“Mhmm” you nod, bunny tumbling to the floor. Long forgotten as you feel the precipice of your pleasure slowly boiling away in your stomach.

“Gonna cum for me?”

Your thighs shake at that, deep groan of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt as you continue to ride Namjoon like it were the last time.

“Go on, cum for me”

Namjoon’s hands find themselves perched under your ass, aiding you as your legs start to grow tired. Muscles in his arms bulging as he drags you up and down his length.

“So small, could use you as my own little fleshlight. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he groans, mirth swimming in his eyes.

Meanly, Namjoon pinches your clit and that’s all it takes for searing hot pleasure to wash over your body, thighs shaking at your release.

You hiccup another sob at the burning arousal as Namjoon continues to ram his cock back up inside you, thick rivulets of your slick coating his balls as he chases his own release.

“Too much” you cry, hands wrapping around his wrists as his fingers dig into your hips.

“I’m close, hold on for me” Namjoon’s head tips back.

Namjoon can feel your pussy as it pulsates around his length; you let out something akin to a squeak as you feel his cock twitch.

Mouth falling open in a silent moan as his warm cum paints your insides white.

You raise up on shaky legs, tip of his cock left nestled between your walls before you’re falling back down on his length; cum pushed deep inside of you.

“Oh my baby” he coos, fingers gentle as they brush through your hair, “Sleepy?”

You nod, words fizzling out on your tongue as you yawn.

Your cunt continues to clench around his cock, even as you fall asleep on his chest.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The bell above the door is obnoxious in announcing Namjoon’s arrival.

‘Pages of Love’ the little bookshop you worked at.

He would have gotten you to quit the shitty little job by now if it didn’t hold such significance in your relationship. He’d first met you here, had dates here, and it made you so happy that Namjoon couldn’t bare to see the sad pout that would be sure to form if he ever suggested you left this place behind.

“Namjoon” the old woman behind the counter smiles, waving him over. “I’m sure you’re aware but it’s y/n’s day off”

“Actually, Nana, I’m here for something else” he smiles, expression saddened and the old woman frowns.

“Anything” she nods.

“It’s about Jimin. He doesn’t happen to be working today, does he?”

“He’s on break right now.” She tuts, “Is this about what he said to y/n. I’ve already warned him about it”

“She came home upset” he shakes his head and Nana sighs.

“Poor girl. She’s lucky to have you, Namjoon”

“Thank you” his smile is genuine, though it drops the moment he steps out the door.

And he waits, waits weeks before he decided what he wants to do with the lowly piece of shit that dared suggest you cheat on him.

Waited weeks as he wrote down every sick little fantasy he had about the ways he’d maul his body. Shredding limbs, gutting him alive. Maybe he’d decapitate him and then send his head to his mother, or chop his filthy dick off and make him watch as he fed it to whatever animal is willing to chew on nearly nothing.

Written fantasies weren’t enough. Namjoon’s fingers always itching, always eager to finally wrap around the boy’s lithe throat and make him beg for mercy until his face is red and pride oozing out of his body with his fear.

“I’m gonna be home late tonight, little one” Namjoon tucks your hair behind your ear, gentle smile rivaling your frown.

“Why?” you ask, blinking up at him through your lashes.

“I have a small job I need to take care of”

“Can I help?”

“Nope” he leans down, soft feathery kiss pressed to you cheek before he’s pulling back, standing at full height.

You look up at him, “You can’t go”

“And why not?” he challenges.

“Because” your defense weak and truly Namjoon wishes he could stay.

“I charged your ipad this morning” and your eyes light up.

“Be quick, okay?” you push yourself up on your tippy toes, hands cupping his cheeks as you press a kiss to his lips.

“Promise” he smiles, “Now be a good girl, and don’t cause any trouble”

“I won’t” you wave him off.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon isn’t exactly sure what he expects to see when he finally gets home, a quick detour to Seokjin’s house to wash off Jimin’s blood and a change of clothes taking longer than he’d anticipated when his friend had insisted on making them both tea.

He can’t help the groan that bubbles up his throat at the sight of you. Skirt flipped up with three fingers, knuckle deep inside your pretty little pussy as you play a colour by number game on your ipad.

“Fucking hell, darling” he kicks his shoes off, jacket long forgotten on the floor as he crouches down in front of you.

You pull your slick covered fingers out of your cunt, gently circling your clit as you blink down at him.

“Couldn’t wait until I got home?”

“I got bored” you whine, legs falling open wider and Namjoon takes that as his invitation to run his thumb through your slit.

His hands hold your thighs in place as he leans down to press a kiss over your clit, tongue slipping from between his lips to lick over the bundle of nerves.

You hips stutter as his tongue drags across your folds, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt at the unexpected nudge of his tongue against you hole.

Your fingers tangle into your boyfriend’s hair as he sucks over your clit, fingers teasing your entrance before he’s pushing two fingers inside of you.

“How pretty” he coos, accompanied by a wet squelch. “The prettiest little pussy, it’s a wonder how you fit anything inside of you”

You squirm, finger stuffed into your mouth as you try and hold back an embarrassed moan.

“Not little” you whine, hips chasing Namjoon’s fingers each time he pulls out.

“Oh, but you are” your thighs twitch as his warm breath brushes over your sensitive clit, hours of mindless toying with your cunt bringing you to the brink of an orgasm.

Namjoon kisses over your mound, kisses over your clit, and then kisses over his fingers as they curl up inside of you.

He can’t help the smile that pulls at his cheeks at the guttural moan you let out when he finds that particular spot inside of you.

“Cum for me, darling” his voice breathless, as he starts to scissor his fingers.

All it takes is one mean little nip to your clit and you’re tipping over the edge; legs shaking as they clamp around your boyfriend’s head.

His tongue continues to flick over your clit, fingers nestled deep within your walls as he helps you ride out your high.

“Enough” you whimper, tugging his head away from between your legs.

You squirm at the glossy sheen that covers Namjoon’s chin when he finally pulls away from your pussy.

“Well done” his hands run up and down your trembling thighs, “Think you can take a little more?”

Your eyes flicker down to his cock, heavy in his pants and you nod; tongue wetting your lips.

“My good girl”

Namjoon pulls you to lay across the length of the couch, fingers tugging your blouse over your head as you shuck off your skirt.

You tug messily at the back of your bra, and Namjoon smiles, bending down to help you.

He groans, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he palms himself through his slacks.

“God, you’re so pretty”

Your squeak when he bites the plush skin, trail of kisses searing as he reaches your neck.

Your hands fumble with his pants, waistband pulled taught as your try and slip your fingers into his underwear.

“Always so impatient, aren’t you?” he coos, “here let me help you”

You pout at the loss of warmth, the loss of his large body completely covering your own; hands grabbing for neck when he sits up on his knees.

Your hips rock upwards, silently begging for any sort of stimulation as you watch Namjoon’s cock spring free, slapping against his stomach.

Your pussy gushes another wave of slick at the sight of your boyfriend with his hand wrapped around his cock, his hands always had been big; swallowing the girth of his cock when your fingers barely wrapped around it.

You can feel the phantom ache in your jaw, countless times he’d shoved his dick into your mouth, splitting it open like he would your cunt with absolutely no mercy.

“You’re staring” though there’s no embarrassment in his tone, eyebrow lifted cocky and lazy smile tugging at your lips.

“Inside, please” you whine, legs falling open enough for him to slot in place.

“Of course, sweetheart”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, eyes squeezing shut as he runs the head through the slit; slicking up his length before he’s pushing at your entrance.

“You sure you can fit me?” you can hear the laugh in his voice, retort on the tip of your tongue only he chooses that moment to nudge the tip of his cock over your clit.

“Joonie” you complain, “please, need you”

And Namjoon watches, lets you, grab onto his length, watching as you rut your hips down until he’s popping inside of you.

Your walls constrict around him, and he’s absolutely fascinated by how such a small pussy is even able to stretch around him.

“Good girl” and he can’t help the moan that follows.

He’s barely thrusting, gentle roll of his hips feeding each inch of his cock into your wet cunt.

You moan like he was ramming into you, always so sensitive, always so responsive to his touch.

“Feel good?” he asks when he finally bottoms out, thighs connected and heartbeats in sync. It’s moments like these Namjoon revels being alive, being one with you. Truly the closest you’ll ever be to one another; and he thinks he finally feels complete when lodged between your sodden walls.

“So deep” you whisper, fingers skimming over your stomach.

Namjoon pulls your legs over his shoulders, bending forwards until you’re almost folded in half.

Your moan is breathless when he gently pulls out, only to snap his hips back into you.

Your hands grasp onto the pillows of the couch as Namjoon picks up his pace, your tits bouncing, and cunt squelching with every brutal thrust into you.

“Fucking hell, you are tiny” Namjoon groans, and you whimper as his hand presses down on your lower stomach.

You dare take a look, hiccup of a moan ripped from your throat as you see it. An outline of his cock right bellow your belly button, head nudging the taught skin with each thrust into you, only for it to disappear as he pulls out.

Your fingers splay over it, cunt convulsing around his length as your feel him move under your skin.

You feel it rising, pussy swollen and worn from your previous orgasm. Namjoon seems to know, he always knows when you’re slowly climbing to the peak of high.

His fingers find clit, tight little circles sending jolts of pure, blissful pleasure through your body, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt to soak his cock.

“Gonna cum for me?” he moans between eat thrust, “Be a good girl and cum for me”

The cry you let out is near pornographic, knees knocking against the side of Namjoon’s head as he continues to flick at your clit. Pleasure numbing that when you finally reach your high, your mind blanks, a blanket of fluff consuming you as Namjoon continues to jackhammer into your used cunt.

“Doing so well for me. So close. I’m so close” he groans, fingers finally pulling off your clit as your thighs continue to shake.

When you come to, Namjoon’s thrusts are a sloppy, thrusts barely coordinated as he ruts into you.

And your breath hitches at the final twitch of his cock, he pushes as far into you as he can before he’s cumming.

Thick waves of cum filling you up. He groans as you clench around him, walls still spasming from your own release. And he gently rocks into you, an attempt to push his cum as deep into your soiled cunt as possible.

“You did so well, darling” he swallows thickly, back of his hand wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead.

You whine as he begins to pull out, mixture of both your releases dribbling out of your hole.

Your thighs twitch when Namjoon parts your lips, hole clenching around nothing as you push another wave of his cum out of your pussy. His fingers scoop it up, circling your entrance before he’s pushing them back between your walls.

“What do you think about a bath?” he hums, watching your eyes fall droopy.

You nod, hands blindly grabbing for your boyfriend to pick you up.

He smiles down at you, arms slipping beneath your body to pick you up as he wanders further into the house.

You wriggle around when he flips the light on, eyes stinging a little at the sudden burst of brightness.

“Alright missy” he sits you on the toilet, and you lean your head against his hip as pee, bones too floppy to even think of holding yourself up.

You remain sat on the toilet as he runs a bath, fussy when he picks you up again though it’s easily soothed with a gentle kiss to your lips.

He thinks you fall asleep as he washes your back, gentle as his soapy hands grope your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples and you squirm at that.

Namjoon is endeared when the two of you finally get out the bath, skin soft and sweet smelling, perfect for kisses. And he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat when you kick your pyjamas away, refusing to put them on yourself when his hands were fully capable.

“Oh my little princess” he kisses both your cheeks, “How about some cake for being such a good girl?”

You see, Namjoon had always been a little bit of a liar. Had told so many lies that truly he didn’t know the what was real and what was not anymore. And if he didn’t know then you never would either.

Every little lie he’d told you from the start, every white lie, every left out detail of his life suddenly seemed insignificant when you were tucked under his chin, sleeping so peacefully, a true sleeping beauty.

And maybe he didn’t really like the classics. Maybe his real love of novels were romances, because he’d always be the prince and you’d always be his princess. A perfect fairytale that would always have a happy ending.

Because if anyone dared scribble out the pages, change his plot, then he would simply erase their existence, and the readers of his life would never know the difference.

You belonged to him. You are his as much as he is yours.

Your life his only reason. Your happiness that little spark of good that still resides inside him. And as long as you come home every day with that same pretty little smile on your face, then Namjoon feels no guilt for the countless people that lay dead, long forgotten by the world as they rest six feet under for daring bring you sadness. Because he’d erased them, with no way to wiggle their way back into the story of his life.

Because what was a prince if he couldn’t take care of a villain that would disturb his perfect fairytale ending?

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: mention of an emotional affair

Word Count: 3143 words

a/n: the chapter I have been waiting for. :') it is time. I look forward to your reactions and feedback! It'll definitely help me work on my writing for these types of scenes in the future! :D Enjoyyy! <3

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Chapter 7

When you thought about it, you had a lot of feelings going on at the moment. Your emotional state felt like a merry-go-round that was never-ending. There were times when you didn’t know what to think when it came to your situation with the boys. This was one of those times.

All your life you had learnt that the bond between mates was sacred and predestined. You were taught that it was something that couldn’t be explained with logic, it was a connection so heavenly and divine, you were tied to one another for forever and more. To a point, you believed that there was indeed a revered and sanctified essence to the bond you and your mates created. But was it really unbreakable? 

When you sought therapy from Chan’s friend Ryunjin, she didn’t give you a complete doom and gloom outlook on things. She reassured that there could be a possibility of reconciliation but, not everything was necessarily foreordained. 

“Is it even worth it to continue? I feel like it’s all been a lie.” you dispassionately asked.

“In a perfect world, there would be no mistakes. So then, it might be fair to walk away in that case. But realistically, we are all prone to committing errors, and if we were to always leave and continue searching for perfection, we’ll always be searching and never satisfied.”

“I don’t know if I could trust them.”

“That’s fair, you don’t need to immediately off the bat, you should first talk to them and take it from there. I‘ll be honest, you know deep down the right answer, it’s up to you to decide what is best for you.”

Yes, fate allowed you to meet the boys.

Yes, fate brought you all together as each other’s mates.

Yes, fate played a significant role in your relationship when you thought about it.

But fate also played a harsh game with you, as some would say. You were thrust into an emotional upheaval and everything you ever knew and were told about love and relationships was far from the truth. So yes, you believed a relationship was sacred and you believed people were meant to come into your life and cross paths for a reason. But it did not mean they would necessarily always be a part of the journey.

Ultimately, you still loved the boys. And deep down, the thought of just walking away felt unacceptable given that there was still a lot that you wished to communicate, discuss and get off your chest. Once you had gotten past the anger that simmered inside of you like a boiling pot, you felt more reassured that you could have a civil discussion with a firm and determined but also calm resolve.

It surprised you just how much anger there was contained in you. As you continued your sessions and Ryunjin continued asking questions and poked you for answers, it all erupted like a volcano. 

And it felt really good to let it all out.

However, you didn't expect things to happen so soon. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you weren't really sure when the right time would present itself, so you decided to leave it up to fate. If anything, your belief had been further strengthened given the last few months. Life may have been harsh, but it resolidified the courage and strength that you didn’t realize you had in you.

Minho had informed you that your bond to the boys would remain passive as if it was in a deep slumber until you chose to communicate with them. With no communication in the past six months, they could not sense where you were but rather feel your lingering presence somewhere. 

At the window, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho all stood with glassy eyes as they peered inside. Only Hongjoong wore an unreadable expression.

Your mind wandered to your past. 

Kim Hongjoong was the reserved but charming boy in your primary school who you befriended as it was just the two of you who sat at a table alone, everyone else in their own little groups. He looked at you occasionally and you thought he was weird. It wasn’t until during lunch when you heard some of your classmates snickering about you behind your back, he passed you a cookie, sat next to rather than opposite you, and told you he liked your hair which was in a pretty French braid. He then attempted to engage in a conversation about which games you liked to play and things you liked to do. Though a bit apprehensive, you became comfortable with him after a while and from then on, the two of you were two peas in a pod.

As you got older, it wasn’t necessarily a romantic bond. Being the two introverts that you were, both of you spent time fairly often together and hardly with anyone else. You were best friends and wherever one of you was, the other was sure to be there or nearby. When both of you attended high school, Hongjoong was the center of attention for most girls. They would gift him lavish presents on his birthday and any holidays that came by, hoping that he would return their feelings. He didn’t but you found it amusing how well liked he was. 

“They don’t know how annoying you really are.” You joked.

He would respond by playfully pulling your ear and ruffling your hair. Hongjoong never told you this, but as much as he liked to mess with you, he also liked to take care of you. When you would question if your hair looked good, he would gently fix it and tell you how beautiful you looked. He would wait for you outside your classroom when your classes were separate and treat you to delicious snacks and treats from time to time. He couldn’t explain it at the time, you were special to him although you weren’t bonded, and it irked him when someone would try to woo you off your feet.

Like the time you received a rose from a classmate for your birthday, Hongjoong was not amused. He latched onto you and followed you everywhere you went, and then brood at the person trying to sweet talk you.

Then on your 16th birthday, you both bonded and realized you were each other’s better half. It all made sense now in your minds and Hongjoong adored you more than anything.

The next two years were just the two of you, filled with fondness, devotion and tenderness.

Snapping back to the present, you were frozen in your spot. There they were, and excluding Mingi, it had been six months since you last saw them. They all still looked the same as far as you could tell in contrast to yourself, who now sported blonde highlights and layered hair complimented with a small nose ring on the right side of your nose. 

You invited them in, joined two tables with their assistance and brought out eight cups of peppermint and chamomile tea. You sat at the head of the table with four boys each on either side. No one attempted to break the lingering silence.

Until Seonghwa did.

"Your hair looks very pretty." He complimented in a sweet soft voice.

"T-thank you." You slightly bowed, touching your hair. It caught you off guard, they seemed to be so calm and that puzzled you.

"Mingi told us about you being here,"  Yunho stated, "We felt your bond after a long time."

"Mhm," You nodded in response, "When I got cornered, I initiated it to alert Mingi."

"Who were they?" San asked.

"Humans turned into rogues actually. My friend Changbin did some research, just like what we heard back home, some of the rogues managed to escape here and turned anyone who offered their loyalty and liked to wreck havoc."

You heard slight snarls emitting from some of the boys. Given everything that happened with the rogues, each of them was ready to tear any of them apart if given the chance.

"We're so glad you're okay. When Mingi told us what you've been doing, we felt comforted to know you were somewhere safe." Jongho declared.

Hongjoong scoffed. 

There it was. If there was anyone out of eight of them who wouldn't hesitate to hide his annoyance and anger, it would be Hongjoong. 

"Are we done with the small talk and pretending like we aren't mad?" He announced.

"Hongjoong." Seonghwa warned.

"No, I will not keep quiet," he seethed, turning to you with pure, fiery anger in his eyes, "Tell me Y/N, was it fun? Frolicking around and pretending like you didn't have any mates waiting for you."

"Hongjoong!" Wooyoung yelled.

But Hongjoong ignored everyone and continued, "We were worried sick, we were broken, we needed you and here you are living your life without any regret."

"It's not like that Hongjoong." You started.

"That's enough Hongjoong!” Mingi exclaimed.

"No, it's not enough, don't you remember the pain you were feeling Mingi? The aching feeling and sleepless nights. We were all miserable, and not just us, the young ones at the daycare were pining for her too but she didn't even care."

"You don't know..."

"Don't know what? Tell me what I don't know Y/N. Because it seems my mother was right about you."

That one statement paused everything. For a moment, you reeled yourself at Hongjoong's words. Kim Hongjoong was the first one you met, the first one you bonded to and the first one you kissed and shared most intimate moments with in the beginning before meeting the others. It was just you and him before meeting Mingi and now, he sat across from you saying the one thing you hoped you would never hear him say.

"Maybe my mom was right."

Mrs Kim hated you and you never knew why. But those sessions with Ryunjin revealed something.

“She hates you because you have what she couldn’t.”

It didn't take long for you to see red. The anger you once thought you had come to terms with erupted again and in your subconscious you slowly put the pieces together. Hongjoong's mother was the reason for the majority of your insecurities and while the boys did carry their own faults in neglecting you, she was the cause that made you spiral further. She was the one pushing Lila and she was the one who would make comments about the boys not liking a whining Luna, and the "fact" that a Luna is supposed to not be a nuisance to her mates. All because, in her eyes and mind, she saw you as an embodiment of what she could never have again.

And just like that, you snapped.

"You're a real piece of work Kim Hongjoong," you snarled viciously. 

Hongjoong's eyes snapped in surprise along with everyone else’s by your tone. No Luna as far as it was known would use that kind of tone with her mate. And the fact that you did was extremely shocking to them.

"What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me," you bit back ferociously, "You have the guts to sit there and accuse me so shamelessly as if you are a saint who never messes up or makes a mistake." 

Hongjoong didn't respond, he glared at you trying to assert dominance but failed.

"You're talking about the pain you felt, okay fine, I won't dispute your feelings. But what about how I felt? What about my sleepless nights and my aching heart. Does none of that matter? You’re completely disregarding my feelings? I was falling apart Hongjoong! I was crushed and at my wits end and you know more than anything how hard I tried to get your mother's approval, only for you to sit there and tell me she was right? Was she really? Because I sacrificed a lot more than you did Kim Hongjoong and you know that. What do you not know Hongjoong? You know everything and you know exactly what you did." You barked.

"Wait..." Yeosang interrupted, "Y/N what do you mean?"

You narrowed your gaze at Hongjoong who looked everywhere but at you, poking his cheek with his tongue. Tears streamed down your face uncontrollably and you felt your resolve breaking apart slowly but you held your ground.

"Do you remember what you told me Hongjoong? I should dress up more like Lila. Kind of funny how you were so into how she dressed and what she wore. I knew you two had a similar interest in fashion, so I tried to write it off, but then the way you hugged her, the way you were so into what she was doing, your "harmless" messages…you knew exactly what you were doing."

"What are you trying to say—"

"YOU WERE HAVING AN EMOTIONAL AFFAIR!” You shrieked. “You were emotionally cheating on me Hongjoong and you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew my insecurities but you didn't care, you expected me to keep quiet and still be there for you because "I'm your mate" and I was supposed to listen to you and obey. You were using me Hongjoong exactly like what your mother did to your father."

The breaking of this revelation sent everyone in a spiral. They hadn't realized till all the pieces clicked together. That's why Hongjoong had Lila around so much, that's why he would keep suggesting they all should stay out late and do things. He was trying to cover his tracks because not only was he emotionally cheating on you but also on them. But it would have only been clear when you found out.

Hongjoong's mother did the same thing to his father after Hongjoong was born. It was during the sealing of the realms and his father, being clan leader, was away majority of time as a witness to the sealing. Mrs Kim found solace in another clan member until Mr Kim found out and denounced his bond with her. They continued to live together for the sake of their children as having separated parents was frowned upon and subjected the child to unfair treatment, but Hongjoong’s father built up a lot of resentment for years to come and never considered rekindling the connection. He wanted nothing to do with her romantically. 

As such, Mrs Kim didn't like the way you were living such an idyllic life — you had a blissful relationship that she would never have again. 

And she rathered Lila because she was the daughter of the clan member, the one who was exiled from the pack, her former love affair, and who joined another pack on the other side of town. No, she wasn’t Mrs Kim's child, Mrs Kim just simply preferred her over you. 

Your voice broke the boys out from their dazes.

"I loved you Kim Hongjoong and I still do. Gosh, I still care so much about you even though I shouldn’t and I still want to make it work because I know, I know you aren't a horrible person, at least I thought you weren’t. But now I'm wondering if I really know you at all."

And that's all it took for Hongjoong's facade to break. He thought you wouldn’t find out. He knew what he was doing was wrong but his infatuation got the best of him. Truly, it started off as any ordinary friendship. Lila was kind and nice and that was that. But there were times when she would subtly flirt with him. At first, he paid no heed and rejected her affections. But after a while, when work and meetings became a bit overbearing and his mother would annoy him with the same old tell-tale of you not being good enough for him despite his reprimands that you meant everything to him, he allowed some reciprocation now and again but without any physical attachment. He thought that wouldn’t define it as him cheating…

But it did and he knew it. So he would rope in the other boys to go to lunches or dinners. They were friendly with Lila too so it wouldn’t come off as too odd, in contrast to if it was just the two of them. Hongjoong was aware that the boys did not really care for Lila like they did for you, and it would take a bit of coaxing to get them to join. Heck, even he didn’t care for her like that but it was such a spur of the moment, he couldn’t help it. He had a feeling some of the boys were questioning him before you disappeared but after your disappearance, they had all hit a wall and it was never revealed.

“I hate you.” You seethed.

Those three words broke Hongjoong from his daze. You, his best friend, first love, his first in many things, hated him and it was all his fault. He wronged you and continued to do so because he was trying to run away from the fact that his actions were damning and inexcusable. In his mind, still communicating with Lila would mean he hadn’t really done anything wrong. It was a twisted and poor attempt of trying to absolve himself from taking accountability. He could feel Mingi and Seonghwa’s fiery gazes and he was too terrified to look up to see the others.

You got up and stormed out of the café. The others just stared blankly in shock and despair from what they just heard. Hongjoong didn’t deny it and it felt like a ton of bricks hitting them all at once.

As you rushed out, Chan, Jisung, Minho and Jeongin passed by. They came to check on you but when you brushed past without acknowledging them and Chan saw your mates through the window, he immediately asked Minho to go after you. Jisung turned all around to figure out what just happened, but when he saw your mates on the other side of the window, he was not pleased. Chan felt Jisung's shift in aura. It was much darker than Jisung’s usually fun and joyful temperament and character. While Jisung may not be very good at fighting, he was very good at magic and spells, and at using strategy and wit over bod. And when someone hurts a person close to him, well, it doesn't usually end very well. 

“Since when does Jisung float?” Jeongin asked.

Jisung began levitating with a menacing glare piercing through the window. Good things the streets were clear for the night.

“Oh dear,” Chan muttered, “This isn’t good.”

Jisung left the two behind, stormed into the café and scowled at the eight men. 

"So,” he retorted with one hand in the air and a dark and purple cloud engulfing the room, “Which one of you is Hongjoong now, hm?"

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

Tag list:

@eastleighsblog @sehun096rainbow @greensnakeglobep @satsuri3su @zonked-times @sugarrush-blush @lomons @explorewithd @chatsgotmytongue @scarfac3 @popcatx0 @angrynightnight @sannieluvrr @idfkeddieishot @alicia-dpa @park-simphwa @puppyminnnie @mysticfire0435 @sundayysunshine @chngbnwf

(I just got the chance to go through my activity and add all who requested to be on the tag list. There were quite a few notifs so if I missed you, firstly, I'm really sorry!! Please send me a private message so I can add you to the list! It'll be easier for me to catch!)

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Initial thoughts on that article - I’m excited! I mean the journalist needs to do a bit more homework (I’m looking at you sentence about Eddie kissing Kim!) and I’m always going to take anything Tim says in an article with a giant handful of salt, but by and large all he said is telling me that the arcs for all our characters seem to be interesting and varied.

This got so very long so it’s going below the cut - but if you only want to read the buddie stuff then start reading where I’ve changed the text colour (so you can find it easily - because I’m nice like that!) 🐝🐝🐝

I love that Tim described madney and henren as being a family unit outside of the firehouse and I’m really excited to see that built upon - I loved that we got more hen and Maddie interactions last season and I want more of it. So I’m looking forward to seeing that dynamic develop as part of the Mara arc.

Ortiz hs so much potential to be a truly great villain - with a more sustained arc - something the show hasn’t ever really done and I’d like them to. Ortiz v Hen as a half season or more plotline would be so good and exploring corruption in politics and how it corrupts other public systems and services would be such a great thing to explore (and Aisha would knock it out of the park)

I’m going to say here that season 8 is very much screaming season 3 redux at me - all of the things we know thus far all seem to parallel season 3 events, even down to the bee-nado - which is starting to sound more and more like a mirror of the tsunami - in that the tsunami wave itself was only a brief thing, but the aftermath was where the major incidents and action was for all the various characters and the set up of their arcs. And Tim saying the bees set up I’m super excited for that as a concept.

Since we first saw them filming on a plane I’ve been wondering if we were going to be seen if another 70’s disaster movie homage and it seems I was right - my money is on Airport 77 being the movie in question

And I’m really interested in who it’s going to showcase and what part of her history were exploring. I would really love to see them exploring the Jeffery arc and her trauma from that, but I’m not sure that’s what we’ll be getting (Jeffery being dead doesn’t negate this exploring that part of her story I just don’t think it’s where we’re going)

My feeling is it’s connected into Emmett in some way. It was ‘resolved’ in Athena begins and then never really spoken of again, so maybe we’ll be seeing Dennis Jenkins (the guy who shot Emmett) as one of the prisoners on the plane and Athena will have to confront her remaining trauma there and possibly the damage arresting DJ has had after all that time he passed.

On to Bobby - what can I say technical consultant bobby is going to be perfection. Bobby has had some heavy arcs over the past couple of seasons so it’s pretty obvious he’s got the comic relief arc for at least 8a. I’m really looking forward to seeing Bobby being done with Hollywood etc. And I’m really excited to see how they get him back to the 118 where he belongs.

Onto the bit I know most of you are reading this for!!

The Buck arc is screaming lawsuit redux at me and that ties in nicely to Bobbys arc. Instead of Buck being stopped from returning to the 118, this time it’s Bobby. Gerrard is the Chase Matthew’s of this situation and so I remain convinced of my assertion that buck (having learnt from the lawsuit arc) is going to initially fail against Gerrard before he figures out getting close to him and therefore being able to figure out his weaknesses is the best way to get rid of him and get Bobby back.

The Buck T*mmy section in the article of it all has me laughing so very hard I nearly fell off my chair.

Look, this ‘relationship’ is still fairly new and they are still in the ‘getting to know each other’ phase, so I wouldn’t be expecting Tim to start waxing lyrical about them as a couple, but saying this;

To describe the first queer relationship of one of your mains, whose entire storyline last season was his bi awakening, when it’s at the point when everything should still be new and exciting isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement of said relationship.

It’s entirely possible to gush about a relationship - especially one that is essentially groundbreaking on your show - without giving any plot away or making it seem like they’re endgame.

More comfortable together is the only thing you could come up with to describe them as a couple? - what does that really mean? Comfortable is how you describe a pair of slippers or an old hoodie that’s all worn in and soft. If you’re using more comfortable as one descriptor in a longer sentence with other descriptors that shows the development of said relationship then that’s totally acceptable. But to use it as the only one (aside from saying they’re a couple), well that screams of a relationship that is a plot device.

And you know what else backs that up as a concept - Tim proceeds to use the rest of his answer to the question about Buck and T*mmy’s relationship to talk about Eddie and Eddie and Buck and their relationship. So what I’m getting is that Eddie is still at the centre of things within that relationship - just as he has been throughout the entirety of s7 - where Buck and Tommy managed to have a grand total of 3 scenes out of nearly 20 together where Eddie wasn’t either present or spoken about at length (and one of those was literally just a scene of them kissing!)

Even using the word comfortable again to describe Buck, Tommy and Eddie hanging out together (anticipating some sort of scene that echoes the karaoke bar scene - where we get petty jealous Eddie and I can’t wait!). Which means comfortable is a very intentional word choice - not one that bodes well for the longevity of the reltionship.

So what I’m getting from that. Is that ‘more comfortable together’ means boring and that Tim is using the relationship to create the same distance we saw between Buck and Eddie in season 3 during the lawsuit arc - the distance that ultimately brought them even closer together and led to Eddie changing his will.

Season 3 was when the show really established buddie as a thing - they lay the foundations in s2, but s3 was when they tested and then built the walls of that dynamic ready for the pieces to be put into place over seasons 4 & 5 so they could make buddie canon.

This BT relationship is literally being used to put Eddie in the same space he was in in s3 - isolated (thank you Ryan for that word choice!) because Buck is not available to him as much (or at all in the case of s3) so he spiralled out in his grief over Shannon’s death and joined a fight club.

All this to say that the chess pieces are being manoeuvred in a really positive direction on the buddie front and I expect to see 8a following a somewhat similar pattern as 3a did - big opening disaster which sets up the various arcs, which includes being shown buck and Eddie’s closeness initially, only to separate them off for a bit so Eddie can have his gay awakening (fight club minus the fight club) and Buck can do some more figuring out about what he actually wants of his own (lawsuit without the law suit) and then bring them back together in time for Christmas - which they will spend together with a newly returned Christopher (mirroring s3 Christmas perfectly) and the rest of the firefam.

Even the Eddie question backs up this as a theory;

I’m fully expecting to get Eddie having conversations with his parents - via call and FaceTime - but not with Chris because he still won’t talk to his dad. The choice to say everything has been stripped away from him except his job is also giving some echoes of s5 - juxtaposing when Eddie essentially had everything else except his job which lead to his breakdown. Tim is a master of deploying subterfuge whilst also using very intentional words - so this comment is making me excited. It’s (to me at least) saying that Eddie is secure in his job and there is not really going to be any drama on the job front. That in the past eddie connected his worth to whatever job he was doing (army, his three jobs in El Paso firefighter) so when the job was taken away he had no worth and that therefore meant he was a failure as a father and a husband - so he spiralled out. Now he has his job and he’s in a good place with that and knowing how his worth as a person isn’t tied into that job. Now instead he has nothing else - all the things he’d tied his worth onto away from his job are suddenly gone so he has to go back to the drawing board and this time look at himself and who he actually is and why he wants.

The choice of the word ‘hell’ is also a choice - ‘who the hell he is’ - season 7 laid the groundwork for edddies reckoning with the catholic faith (former nun Marisol, Eddie talking about being a lapsed catholic and catholic guilt and bobby giving Eddie the bible etc) and we know they’ve been filming in a church. Hell as a word choice is just backing that up and hinting at the idea that Eddie figuring out who he is and choosing living his life as his true self would damn him to hell in the eyes of his religion. So gay Eddie here we go!!

This was supposed to be a quick ‘ooh I’m excited everything is being perfectly set up’ post and then I did my usual thing and write a mammoth essay 🤣 so if you’ve read all of this - thank you and I love you and I hope you enjoyed it - can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

[natashxromanovf]

Forever mine

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1301

WARNINGS: slight fighting (verbal, very mild), mentions of food, one swear word

REQUESTED: {x} by @arkofblake

SUMMARY: Yours and JJ’s relationship, from the day you met to the present time and what you learnt about each other throughout those years.

A/N: Thank you for requesting this babes! I loved writing it so much, I hope you enjoy reading it as well <3

You vividly remember the first time your eyes laid on JJ Maybank. It was a sunny afternoon amid September, the weather surprisingly summer-like. Walking inside a restaurant, you were supposed to meet a friend of yours for brunch but she bailed on you at the last second, leaving you standing on the street all alone. You thought about going back to your dorm but decided otherwise. You were really hungry, already here and to be honest, you could use some peace and quiet to gather your thoughts. 

“What can I get for you?” a blonde boy questions you, giving you a warm smile. As you look up at him, the breath you were about to let out hitches in your throat and the words get stuck in your mouth. A moment passes by and you finally collect yourself again, already feeling the heat creep up your neck.  

“I’m sorry,” you laugh a bit, looking down at your hands. “Could I please get some pancakes with maple syrup?” you politely ask, returning him the smile. 

“Of course, ma’am, coming right up,” the guy says as he leaves, leaving you speechless. The blonde couldn’t have been much older than you, maybe a year or two but not more. And the fact that he’s really gorgeous didn’t slip past you either, because that is one of the finest men you have ever seen in your life. 

Before you know it he comes back with your food, placing a plate in front of you. You flinch a little when the plate collides with the table, as you aren’t aware of your surroundings. You quickly snap out of your thoughts though, as he starts speaking. 

“Can I get you anything else?” 

“Oh, no thank you, I think I got everything I need,” you reply, looking up at him once again. He nods and starts to walk away, as you gather the courage to do something the girl you were a week back would never do. “Except maybe,” you start, catching his attention once again. “What’s your name?”

He smirks before answering, letting you know that he was waiting for that question. “JJ,” he answers. “JJ Maybank.”

~

“What’re you thinking about there, babe?” JJ questions as he tucks your hair behind your ear, a gesture he learned you love very much. 

“About the day we met,” you honestly answer a small smile appearing on your face. 

“Oh, you mean about the day when you were literally at a loss for words when you first saw me?” he says cockily, earning a slight smack on the arm from you. 

The two of you were currently lying down on his couch, watching your favourite TV show, trying to unwind from your morning classes. “Do you remember the day when you first kissed me?” you ask, grinning wildly as the memory flashes across your mind.

“Of course I do,” JJ replies. “We were sitting on the beach in Outer Banks. It was the first time I took you there, to meet my best friends from high school. They all left and we were watching the sunset, it was particularly beautiful that day. You were talking about how much you like them all and I just decided right then and there that I wanna spend my whole life with you,” he finishes and you turn around, pressing a deep kiss against his lips. When you part you just stare at him for a few seconds, the biggest smile on your lips. He mirrors your expression, his fingers caressing your arm, barely touching you but still erupting goosebumps all over your body. 

“I love you,” you finally say, him returning the words. After that, you give him another pack and then you stand up, grabbing some clothes from the drawer in his bedroom. You stop for a second and realise you have your drawer at his place. You don’t know when it officially became your drawer, it just sort of happened. I mean, it was just a matter of time to be fair, you’re barely at your dorm anymore.

“Where are you going?” the blonde shouts from the living room, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“To take a shower,” you exclaim, closing the drawer. “I’m meeting with Amanda later,” you remind him, blowing a little kiss at him before closing the bathroom door. 

~ 

“What’s going on?” asks JJ as he enters the apartment, placing his keys on the cupboard near the door. 

“Bills,” you simply answer, your face still scrunched with confusion and a bit of anger. This has been a repeating problem for the past few months, something the two of you can’t get rid of. The apartment lease has gotten higher just around the time you started having money problems and the stupid landlord won’t give you a few extra days to pay for the place. “I get my pay in a couple of days,” you state as a matter of fact, more to yourself than to the man now standing next to you.

“Yeah I know but that bitch downstairs just doesn’t wanna give us a day or two more,” he almost shouts, silently praying your downstairs neighbour heard that. 

“Jesus JJ you can’t just scream like that!” you suddenly snap, catching him by surprise. He takes a slight step back, trying to figure out what the problem is right now. He has done this multiple times already and you always laugh at it. 

“Y/N,...” he starts but you shush him with your hand, taking a breath.

“I just can’t deal with this right now,” you say, grabbing your car keys and throwing the door open. Once you're outside you stop for a second, taking a deep breath of fresh air, trying to stop the tears that will inevitably come. To your surprise JJ follows you downstairs, stopping just a step or two behind you.

“Y/N what is going on?” he finally asks, stepping just a bit closer. 

“I don’t know,” you honestly reply, the first tear starting to roll down your cheek. “I don’t know, J, nothing’s wrong, everything’s wrong,” you murmur, a sob escaping your lips.

“Hey, hey, darling, shhhh,” he says as he wraps you in a tight hug, making you press your head to his chest. “We’ll figure this out, I promise,” he swears, softly caressing your back. You finally let yourself breathe, really breathe and take a moment to relieve some of the stress that has been building up in you for weeks now. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you start, your voice a bit muffled by his shirt. “I had a terrible day at work today and college is just too much right now and my Mom just called me with another one of her problems and now I saw the bill and I just,” you ramble, meanwhile JJ comforts you in the best way he knows how. “I really need to take a break,” you finish, finally letting go of the blonde. As soon as you look up at him he presses a reassuring kiss to your forehead, the forgiveness for shouting at him hidden in that gesture. 

“I know Y/N, and I will make sure you get the rest you need. And remember, just because we fight doesn’t mean we won’t work things out. We’re not your parents, love,” he whispers, pulling another sob out of you but this time a sob of relief. 

“I know, J, I know. I guess I just need a reminder from time to time,” you smile up at him. He softly wipes away your tears and when he’s done, he guides your lips into a comforting kiss.

“Good. Because you’re the best thing that’s ever been mine,” he mutters, putting his hand around your shoulders, and guiding you back inside the apartment.

outer banks taglist: @hallecarey1 @lovelyjj @ilyjohnb

jj maybank: @velvetcloxds @tenaciousperfectionunknown

hope you enjoyed this! don’t forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really helps writers with motivation <33

taglist form

[dxckgrxsonx]

Out of office is ON. Absolutely ZERO customer service duties until Monday and I am sososo relieved!

May i give you all a look at my exbf!dick WIP?

**

Watching that first edge of your relationship catch at the precipice of failure felt so much like grief it was alarming; letting go has never been something you’re good at, especially not when it comes to him.

But you couldn’t stop Dick Grayson from slipping through your fingers the same way he couldn’t stop you from slipping through his.

Ending the relationship was a mutual decision. But that fact brought no relief. He was still leaving you, and in the terrible reflection of that, you were leaving him too.

There was no coming back from that.

**

Your relationship ends on a Tuesday and first thing Wednesday morning you walk into Titans Tower to find Dick standing at the kitchen counter.

Time stalls, your whole life stuttering in a furious backfire.

Whatever you were expecting. It wasn’t this.

Memory blooms against the palms of your hands and it’s tangible, focus hard enough and your fingers could trip along the interlocking bones of his spine. It’s historic recollection, almost twelve months eclipsing the time it takes to blink; one trip around the sun together and your life comes back to you irrevocably changed.

Three hours of sleep isn’t enough to deal with this; you don’t think any amount of sleep is enough for this.

Dick stares at the wall just past your head, mug held halfway to his mouth. He’s still wearing the same clothes as last night, doesn’t look like he’s slept for even a minute, and you could throw a dart at what you’re feeling about that and still not pinpoint it exactly.

Silence seems to echo, then swell, and you can't help but fumble in the face of it, caught in foreign territory. You wasn’t quite sure what you were expecting, but seeing him again so soon wasn’t really on the list. For a moment you consider turning on the balls of your feet and leaving, and yet, you know that won’t solve anything.

A cup of coffee is pushed across the counter in your direction and you stare at it, bewilderment shoved up against the roof of your mouth. You know it’s made exactly the way you like it; know with the same sort of certainty that you bring into mission briefings, the same concrete accuracy you display in combat.

It feels like you’re going fucking crazy.

Glancing at Dick you try to gauge the look on his face but you can’t.

When you first starting dating it was hard to read between his lines–difficult to spot the miniscule changes in his mannerisms–you could stare him straight in the face and miss the switch; miss the split second where emotion filters through the cracks and he shuts it down, hides behind a smooth facade of indifference.

After all the time you spent together it got easier. You learnt. But you look at him now and you might as well have never known him at all.

Dick opens his mouth and every muscle along your spine flexes in preparation, "Let’s not make this weird, yeah?"

Your teeth grind.

What a fucking diplomat.

One thing about you is this: you’re petty. Hand on heart you can’t help it. You get wronged and hit back in the lowest form you can think of–the most inconvenient way your mind can conjure up. The satisfaction you get from it is unparalleled.

Years ago, your uncle told you to leave your own house after a disagreement and in retaliation you parked your car so close to his bumper he couldn’t get out of the space. Then you blocked his number and didn’t come back for three days.

Not once did you regret it.

Dick knows exactly what you’re like; who you are on the inside, and yet he arrives at the solution of damage control. As if that would have ever gotten a positive reaction out of you–as if there would be any moment in your life where you wouldn’t bite all the way back to your molars into something glaringly spiteful.

There’s a split second where you wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.

He knows you on a level you can’t speak about–knows you through all four seasons and right down to the cosmic dust that interlocks with the fabric of your being–and he’s so brilliantly clever. Strategist since he was a child. You don’t have a doubt in your mind that he knows what you’re about to do before you do it. The revelation stings the same way a papercut does, wound superficial and with clean edges, yet painful no matter what.

Dick Grayson knows you, and in a fit of something helpless and tearful, you wish he didn’t.

The mug of coffee tips in your fingers and you pour the whole damn thing down the drain.

“Yeah.” You say, blinking furiously, refusing to acknowledge the wobble in your voice. “Fuck that.”

Dick stares at you the whole time–the blue of his eyes almost flashing with something un-named–his free hand tightening into a fist. The exhilaration is damning, blood rushing up to greet the sick satisfaction sparking in the hollow of your throat.

Fuck him.

Fuck him so goddamn much.

**

[probably-writing-x]

Doomed.

summary: okay so like conrad x reader where she’s belly’s best friend that went to cousins every summer and got with conrad and basically are dating like him/belly in s2 with everything going on with susannah and either while they’re still together or after they break up she goes to brown to tell him she’s pregnant and just very angsty 💗

You weren’t sure of the exact moment you’d lost Conrad. But part of you felt like it was doomed before it had even started. Like he was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode, to disappear. Sometimes you thought he could see a future with you. And other times it felt like your whole relationship was simply him counting down the days. He broke your heart without ever really having it. The two of you were destined to end, as much as part of you wanted so badly to convince yourself that you wouldn’t.

“I’m just saying (y/n) we can leave any time you want, honestly. I’m obviously glad that you’re coming with me but I totally get it if you want to leave,” Belly assures you from the passenger seat as the two of you turn past the Cousins sign.

“Come on, it’s fine,” You return, “I wouldn’t have offered to drive if I didn’t feel okay about being here. Plus, this place has memories for all of us, I don’t want to lose that either.”

You glance out of the window to the houses passing by the car, the way they all seem to blur into one until you reach that one.

Jeremiah’s car is already parked up outside and him and Steven get out together, looking back as the two of you pull in.

“Well, it’s a good sign his car is here,” Belly points out the four by four parked up closest to the house.

You pull your keys from the ignition and take a deep breath, one that seems to rattle against your chest. For a moment, it all comes flooding back to you.

——Six Months Earlier——

“I really hope you’re not telling me that we drove all this way and you forgot the fucking keys,” You groan, wrapping your arms around yourself and rubbing your hands up your arms to keep the heat in a little.

“It’s a new car, okay? I’m not used to my keys being separate,” Conrad returns coldly, rummaging through his bag to find anything resembling the keys.

“Okay they’re not in there,” You shake your head, “Lets just find somewhere to stay or something.”

He stands up straight and looks at you, frowning, “This weekend was meant to be perfect. Drive all the way here, go to the beach, whole house to ourselves, we were-“

“Hey,” You cup his cheek, brushing a thumb over the skin, “Come on, we’re here together, I don’t care what we do.”

He leans into your touch and turns his chin to press his lips against your palm.

“Actually,” He pulls away from you, “I’ve got an idea.”

“I don’t trust that,” You grimace but he laughs and pulls your hand into his, dragging you behind him.

Both of you pile back into the car and he grins in your direction, driving you back away from the house and down the street in the opposite direction to the way you’d came in. You’d learnt that in the times when Conrad was being spontaneous, it was better to just let him do it. He got an idea and ran with it and it was better to run with him than try to pull him back.

“Okay so where are you taking us?” You ask him as he turns into another corner, eventually stopping the car.

When you look out of the windshield, you can just about make out the shape of the rolling waves in the dark, glistening a little in the clouded moonlight. You’re parked behind the dunes, a single spot in a clearing of the trees, the same trees that gather behind the car like a crowded shelter.

“I’ve got blankets and pillows in the back of the car from when you stayed at my dorm,” He explains, “We can set up a bed in the back, sleep in the car.”

“I love this life of luxury Fisher,” You joke.

“I’m sorry this didn’t work out like we thought it would.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand, “We’re together, aren’t we?”

You both climb out of the car and set up the pillows, blankets and comforters in the back of the car, folding the back seats down to give yourselves more space. Conrad reverses and turns the car so that the trunk faces out to the sea, noting that you’ll thank him for it in the morning when you see the view.

“There we go, that’s pretty good if you ask me,” You grin, “But I’m so tired I think I’d sleep anywhere.”

You get in beside him and both of you shuffle under the covers until you’re comfortable. His long legs fold under the comforter in your direction and you shift again to try and find the right spot.

“Connie I love you but could you please-“

“You what?” He stops you, leaning up onto his elbows.

“I-“ You feel your cheeks burn red hot at the words, “I just meant that I wanted you to move over-“

“You love me?” His voice is soft and full of excitement, his eyes creasing with the intensity of his smile.

You throw your hands over your face, wishing away the embarrassment, “Forget I said anything I didn’t mean-“

You feel him shift beside you until he’s hovering over your form, his hands reaching out to pull each of yours away from your face.

“You love me,” He confirms once again, “I love you more.”

You fight back a smile as you watch him speak the words, letting them echo in the space between you.

“Say it again,” You grin widely, your expression matching his.

Conrad chuckles and leans down to press his lips to yours, soft but yet so certain of himself. Unlike any time he’d kissed you before - this one sealed with love.

—— Now ——

“(Y/n)?” Belly calls over to you, “Are you coming?”

You look up to see all three of them stood at the doorway, leaving you in the driveway towards the house. You shake your head to clear away your reminiscent moments and look back to them.

“Yeah, sorry, just spaced out for a second,” You nod, hurrying your steps a little more in their direction.

When you all get into the house, the sound of his voice is what your ears instantly tune into. So distinct. So clear against the echoing walls.

“Dad I’ll talk to you later,” His voice snaps as he rounds the corner, stopping at the sight of the four of you.

Conrad’s eyes fall to Jere first, move to Belly and to Steven, before landing on you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You know he’s speaking to all of you, but you wince like the words were meant for your ears only.

“Enough of the knight in shining armour act, Conrad. We’re here to help,” Jeremiah defends, “This house means just as much to us as it does to you.”

“I don’t want to hear it, okay? I’ve got it under control,” Conrad returns, dragging a hand through his hair as he tears his eyes away from you.

“Really? Because it doesn’t fucking seem like it,” Jeremiah scoffs, “Be fucking honest with yourself Conrad, you’re just as lost as we are.”

“I can handle it!” Conrad raises his voice and you flinch instantly, your hands clenching as the anxiety courses through you.

His eyes drop back to you and his face softens, as if instantly aware of his impact.

And it takes you right back.

—— 3 Months Earlier ——

“I’m just saying I think it’s just a way better movie, you know?” You persist, opening the passenger side door of the car, “And the storyline is just so much better it’s like-“

You pause when you see him, his eyes drifting off to the road, his ears turned off to your words.

“Con? Are you listening?”

He glances up and back to you, “Oh, um, sorry, what did you say?”

You frown just a little and place your hand over his on the gearstick of the car, “Is something going on? You’ve been quiet ever since we got to the theater.”

It’s as if another light switches off in him when you ask, “No, no, I’m okay.”

“Con,” You reach up to brush the hair away from his forehead, “Talk to me.”

“I just-“ He pauses at your touch, as if pocketing it, “There’s just a lot going on, you know? With the funeral, and Jere, and college and Stanford and… I just don’t know how much more I can take.”

“Nobody’s asking you to take on all of this by yourself, okay?” You cup his cheek, “I’m here, you’ve got Laurel and Steven and Belly, you’ve got a whole family of people that want to help. Do you know that?”

He closes his eyes for a second and nods, and you move your hand down to his chest to feel the beating of his heart against you.

“You don’t need to do everything on your own,” You repeat, “I’m here.”

He places his hand over yours but something feels empty, like his heart isn’t beating for you in the way you’d felt before. His eyes glaze over a little like they don’t really see you but you repress it anyway.

The two of you drive back to his college dorm and collapse into his bed to watch a movie, or two, or three. It seemed like Conrad’s batteries had already run out for the day and you’d do anything in your power to let him recharge. You’d put on his favourite films, and laid down on his chest as he tucked one arm underneath his head. His other arm wasn’t around you, however, it was holding his phone, scrolling through aimlessly.

“Con?” You glance up at him, “Do you want to do something else? We don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to, we co-“

“It’s fine,” He snaps harshly, not glancing away from the blue light screen.

You swallow the lump in your throat and lean up onto your elbows, bumping against the wall of his dorm in his single bed.

“Okay well something’s obviously not fine,” You comment, “Talk to me Conrad let me-“

“Just fucking stop with your ‘talk to me shit’,” He doesn’t raise his voice but he practically spits the words at you, tossing his phone down onto the side, “I don’t need you to be a therapist, okay? I don’t need that.”

“I’m not trying to be your therapist, I’m trying to be your girlfriend,” You defend, feeling the strength slip from you in the tremble in your hands.

“Well maybe I don’t need that either!”

He raises his voice then and you can tell he regrets it. He pushes himself up from the bed and stands, dragging a hand through his hair.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You speak and instantly hate yourself for the way the words tremble on your tongue, the way your whole body feels numb.

“I-“ He stops himself, pacing a little across the room, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean it like? Because if that is what you want, then that’s what you’ll get. I’ll leave. I’ll go right now,” You sit up on the bed, “I’m not waiting around for you to change your mind.”

“(Y/n) I didn’t mean-“

“Go fuck yourself Conrad,” You state, standing up and grabbing your shoes and bag from the floor.

“(Y/n)!” He reaches out a hand and grabs you, turning you around to him.

“Tell me you want me to stay,” You look between each of his eyes, tears spilling out of your own, “Tell me you want me to be here, that you want me to be your girlfriend, that you still meant what you said when you told me you loved me. Tell me you want this.”

He’s silent, his lips parting with no words, his eyes filling like yours.

“Goodbye, Con.”

—— Now ——

You were stood in the shell of the room you used whenever you were in Cousins, it feeling oddly empty without Susannah’s touches dotted around. She’d leave you fresh towels on the sheets, and a new candle burning on the nightstand. This time, those little bits were missing.

Come to think of it, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d slept in this room. It got to a point where you’d stay in Conrads every night, even before the two of you were together. It started with late night conversations and transpired into you falling asleep on one side of his bed, then the two of you coming back late and stumbling through the dark into his room, then the two of you falling in love. You shake the thought away as quickly as it had arrived.

You sit down on the mattress and take a deep breath, glancing around at the room that you’d practically been brought up in - every summer spent within these walls. You weren’t ready to lose this house, it was simply another change in your life you weren’t ready to accept.

Your hand moves to rest on your stomach, already swollen and growing underneath the baggy t-shirt you had on. You take a deep breath and smooth over the skin, terrified of the idea of life being beneath your touch.

Before you can think any more, there’s a light knock at the door and you quickly drop your hand away.

“Sorry, it’s me,” Conrad pokes his head around the door, “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

You shift over on the bed and he sits down beside you, glancing at your eyes before looking down to your tummy, and back up, as if he’s checking you over.

“How are you feeling?”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

——Two Months Earlier ——

The drive to Brown had never churned your stomach like this. Maybe that was the morning sickness - did that happen this early? Another thing to google.

You hadn’t spoken a word to Conrad since you’d left that day. The funeral was two weeks after, and you’d avoided him for the entire day. You didn’t need anything else to make the day worse, and neither did he.

But, only a couple of days after that, you’d seen lines on a test that confirmed all of your worst fears, all of your dreaded expectations.

You were pregnant. A month pregnant, from just before you and Conrad had split up. Could the timing be any worse?

You pull up into the parking lot and let out a shaky breath. You still knew his schedule from when you’d meet him from classes or know when he’d be free for you to call him. He’d be coming out of a biology lab any minute and going to his favourite spot by the water on campus just behind the building that nobody seemed to think existed. That’s where you wait, on one of the benches just on the edge of the water, your entire body trembling.

You hear him before you see him, mumbling a goodbye to one of his classmates as he circles around the corner towards the back of the building. He looks down at his phone before stuffing it back into his pocket, sighing deeply before looking up. His entire body stops in its tracks.

“(Y/n),” He exhales, closing the space between you until he’s stood in front of the bench, “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” You manage to force out, clenching your hands together to stop them from shaking.

“Yeah, you’re right, we do,” He crouches down in front of you, “I’ve been thinking abo-“

“Con,” You cut him off, watching as the fragments of hope seem to dissipate from his eyes, “I’m pregnant.”

You see his shoulders drop a little as if the heaviest weight has towered down onto them.

“You’re-“ He clears his throat, “You’re pregnant.”

“About a month,” You confirm, “Before you ask, yes it’s definitely yours and no I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He seems to compose himself quickly, kicking into fight or flight mode, and he drops his books onto the floor, shifting so that he’s sat beside you. Cautiously, he reaches out and takes your hands into his.

“Are you okay?”

“Con did you not hear what I said?” You scoff, unable to keep eye contact with him for any longer.

“I know what you said, but I want to know if you’re okay first.”

“Well it’s not exactly been the easiest month,” You pull one hand free from his and drag it through your hair, letting him still hold your other cold hand between his, “And I know you have a lot going on and I’m sorry that this is awful timing but I-“

“Woah, woah, woah, don’t apologise for anything,” He shakes his head, “This isn’t your fault (y/n).”

You’re silent.

“And, hey, we’ll figure it out. Whatever we choose to do, whatever you choose to do, we’ll make it work. And we can-“

“See that’s the thing though, isn’t it Conrad? There isn’t a we anymore.”

He pauses, his grip loosening on you as if his hands have gone numb. His eyes drop to the floor before he glances back up, seemingly holding less hope than he had before.

“We’re not together anymore and this isn’t going to be the reason that changes,” You let out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding, “Of course you need to know because this is as much your baby as it is mine, but we’re not… how do we even begin to raise this baby when we can’t even take care of ourselves?”

“We’ll figure it out,” He nods as if trying to force some sort of certainty from him and into you, “We’ll do our research and we’ll speak to the doctor and we’ll read all the books and… we’ll make it work.”

You look down at your tummy, across to where his hand held yours, back up to his eyes - and it all just feels… numb. He wasn’t yours, and yet you were carrying his baby. You weren’t his, and yet this news had just changed his entire existence. A baby. You feel your stomach somersault once more and let out a shaky breath, no longer breathing for you but breathing for two.

—— Now ——

“Your scan is soon, right?” Conrad asks, “I did some research and they said that by now you should be able to-“

“Con,” You cut him off, looking down at your hands in your lap.

He frowns, “What is it?”

“I need you to be honest with me,” You let out s breath, “I need you to tell me if this is what you want. Because if it’s not, you can jump ship. I won’t hate you for it, I won’t resent you. But you need to decide whether this, all of this, is what you want.”

“(Y/n),” He speaks your name like it’s a breath clinging to his lips, “You seriously think I’d leave you to do this by yourself?”

You half-laugh, tears brewing in your eyes, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Hey,” He takes both of your hands into his, turning both of you to face each other, “A whole lot of stuff in my life is shitty right now, and I’ve made a lot of really fucked up decisions that I can’t take back. But not this. This is my lifeline (Y/n). You and this baby, it’s my lifeline.”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“I’ll be better, I’ll be better than I was, I’ll do it all better.”

You look into his eyes, eyes that you’d once been so sure you could trust with your life. The lips that had kissed promises into you that you were sure would never break. The hands that you once thought would catch you from any fall. But all of it holds such an uncertainty now. Those eyes are the same ones that didn’t shed a tear when they broke your heart. And those lips are the same ones that yells and curses spilled so freely from. Those hands are the same ones who no longer wanted to hold you when you needed them the most. And that’s why, despite the certainty you want to convince yourself is held behind his words, you drain all emotion from your voice and say;

“Will you?”

[f4iry-bell]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 3

pairing: jameson hawthorne x nerd/good girl reader

summary: who would have guessed taking an unwanted picture of her could lead to that tense moment? more than that, who would have thought it would get his attention to make a deal? and guys like him drain a person inside out when they are interested in you.

series taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @lyra-kane @bewitchingkisses @zenikswaffleshop @off-to-the-r4ces @jamcarven

permanent taglist (for jameson): @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @elysianwayy77 @cassie6392

warning: fluff to angst.

word count: 1.5k

a/n: after no only angst :> + i tried foreshadowing fir the first time :3333

masterlist | series masterlist

← part 2

Ever since the night where they sat on the cliffside railing, and just watched the busy city move fast while they were enjoying the time right then. It was like watching a tree move fast while you're in the train for Jameson and her, you may think that the tree is moving fast but in reality the train you are in is moving fast. Just like that, they were doing things quickly without thinking. It's what Jameson has been telling her repeatedly. ‘Don’t think, just do it’. Sometimes she puts up a fight but eventually she gives in. Jameson wanted her to try so many things that involved at least twenty feet high.

Reason; he genuinely wanted her to get over her fear. He told himself that it was because he can try a lot of new experiences that gets you high with adrenaline with her. He has always done it alone, his friends weren't interested, even with his persuading skills. Jameson is not a person who would force someone to try something that he would, he only persuades people whom he knows would actually enjoy it— someone people just have it in them. And she was definitely one of them.

She just needs a little push.

He started of with small things like star gazing from a tall building, a lighthouse overlooking the ocean, giant swings, giant swing but higher than the last time, he suggested climbing a tree but she was not interested in ‘sitting somewhere uncomfortable as a branch’ which made him smile, he even told her about Hawthorne Tree House but when she asked what's so special about it he gave her a classic line ‘what happens in the tree house, stays in the tree house’ although he promised to take her there once.

They were comfortable with each other now, Jameson even saw a playful side of hers then and there. She is not really what you would call a stereotypical need is, but definitely is a goody two-shoes. And a coward too. But in some ways so is Jameson, a coward who doesn't let his real emotions and feelings speak.

-

“Are we just going swing from now? Or are you going to show me one of those amazing games you always talk about?” She asked about the old man’s games, she was interested in them. Sometimes Jameson makes a treasure hunt of his own but lets nobody play. He didn't exactly open up about his relationship with his grandfather, he just said he was rather ‘strict’ at times.

“One day you'll get to use that pretty smart head of yours to play my game, but it's not today.” He said, they were now laying on the football field in the campus, it was past 9 PM.

“Then what are we going to do? Kick imaginary football?” She asked, he smiled at the thought of her even trying to kick an actual ball. He learnt that the only sport she has ever played was badminton because she was forced to take at least one in school.

“I thought we would just relax today but you know what? I have a game idea for you.” He sat up.

She got so excited about the last part that she ignored the first sentence. “Really?” Her eyes widened with excitement.

Jameson really knows how to get a girl excited about what he does next but something about her is that she actually likes what he comes up with. She wasn't excited because she wanted him or anything, she got excited because she gets to play. And one thing about Jameson Hawthorne is that he likes to play as well, and admires a girl who likes to play.

“Come on.” He started walking fast out of the field.

“Where are we going?” She asked, trying to keep up with him.

“The library.”

“It is closed now.”

“I’ve been thought to pick locks, princess.”

She smiled. “Why am I not surprised, but should we go tomorrow? You know, when it's open?”

“What's the fun in that?”

“But if we get caught—”

“If, not when. So, come on. Even if we do, I'll use my Hawthorne privilege to get us away with it.” He joked but she knows that if something happened he definitely would use it to get her away from trouble.

-

Jameson did not miss to notice how she was trying to observe the way he picked the lock. “Not a skill you need, princess.” He said, and they both heard a click of the massive library door.

“It’s not like I'm going to use it, I'm just curious.” She shrugged as she followed him inside.

“You know what they say about curiosity.”

“Whatever. Tell me what we’re playing.”

He stopped next to a table, and sat. “Since you're a big book nerd, I'm going to give you a book title or quote, and you have to find it in the library and bring it.”

“This is a huge library. At least tell me you'll let me know the genre. What if I don't know the book?”

“Wait, I wasn't done yet. You're not the only player. You have to find it before me in, and have to find it before 5 minutes. 10 rounds, you find it first or before the timer ends you get a point, you fail to find it before the timer I get a point. If I find it before you get a point.”

“That's not a fair game, you have high chances of winning because you can gain a point when I fail to find AND when the timer goes off!”

“Life isn't fair. Are you playing? Or should we call it a night?”

She rolled her eyes, and took her phone out to set a timer. “First book?”

Jameson smiled. “One Day.”

“What a pick.”

He chuckled. “Game starts now.”

_

It was a 5-4 situation right now and things were getting hectic. Jameson was winning right now with 5 points, she'd rather have a tie than lose to Jameson.

“Aw, I'll give you an easy one. The Castle.” He noticed how her eyes widened a little, he knew that she knew where it exactly was.

Once he pressed the timer, she ran like a flash to the fiction section. Funny thing is that Jameson knew which shelves it was in as well. Although she ran before Jameson, he was faster than her. He easily caught up right behind her. He is confident that he'll win this.

As he ran behind her towards the last shelf, following her to the corner he was planning on reaching above her head to get the book. As he reached for the book his hand touched her which was already touching the book. The force made him trip a little, and fall in her, his weight pushed her forward to the wall in the corner making her drop the book down, Jameson was still not stable with his stand so he moved forward— very close to where she was pushed. Her body turned to him, he expected her to be mad or disappointed but she just started laughing as she put her head behind, her body now touching the wall.

Jameson picked up the book, and kept it back. His hands still on the corner of the shelves, it was like she was caged between him, and the walls, and the shelf. He laughed with her until she stopped.

“Is the book okay?” She asked.

“Perfectly fine.”

“I don't want to pay for it.”

“You won't, even if it was damaged. Nobody would know.”

“That—”

“Would it go against your morals?” He smirked as he looked down to meet her eyes.

She playfully hit his chest. “Don't make fun of me.”

“But that's my favourite hobby.”

She rolled her eyes. The few seconds of silence let them be aware of how close they were standing, how close their faces were. How intimate the position was. Jameson could learn down, and their lips could meet. Maybe he wanted to. He has thought about it ‘accidentally’, accidentally thought of kissing her.

But for her, this moment made her realise why her heart tugs every time he teases her, or smiles at her, or holds her hands when they are high above. But she can't, unlike Jameson who completely pushed his feelings away and refused to acknowledge them, she actually does acknowledge them but try not to act on them.

“Jameson?”

“Yeah?” It was barely a whisper.

“What did you mean earlier when you said that we were to only relax today?”

“That we don't stand 40 feet high.”

“But that's not really in our deal.” Her heart was beating fast, she could hear it, maybe he did too. She hoped he understood what she's trying to ask. Their deal was just helping her get out of her comfort zone, see the world differently. That's why they meet each other in the first place, not for relaxing with each other. She didn't want to ask him, she was afraid of his answer.

Jameson was quiet. Stunned maybe. “It's getting late.” He stepped back from her.

“Oh. Anyways, do you want to celebrate that the game was a tie—”

“It's already very late, Y/n. You have classes tomorrow.”

That kind of stung her. From all the weeks she has known him she knew that he would never turn down a celebration.

She just nodded. “Okay.”

part 4

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Congratulations on your milestone!

If it’s not too late, I’d like to request Spencer/Reader post prison with this lyric.

“You’re the cure, and your eyes have dug me out of my grave more times than I could ever count. You’ve always been the one to breathe me back to life - The Cure by The Movielife

Thank you.

Oh how I love post prison angst! And this was the perfect song for, thank you darling!

You’re the Cure

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - you’ve always been the ray of light in Spencer Reid’s often dark life. But in the wake of his incarceration, can you be his cure?

CW - past drug addiction, past parental abandonment, mentions of Maeve arc, prison arc, emotionally distant Spencer, break ups, bad mental health, mentions of not eating and bathing, an almost relapse, heavy drinking, maybe one swear, tears, hopeful ending.

WC - 4.4k

Spencer Reid had never seen himself as someone who needed saving. Being forced to grow up at ten years old when his father abandoned him and his sick mother, had a way of instilling in him that when things went wrong, he could only rely on himself. 

His drug addiction only went to further perpetuate the notion that he was on his own. Even when his brain was muddled by the dilaudid he knew his team was aware of what was going on and not a single one of them ever said anything. 

So Spencer got used to fending for himself, keeping his emotional issues internalised. He loved his friends but he learnt not to count on them. As such he made a habit of keeping his cards close to his chest, never letting anyone in fully. 

Spencer Reid could only truly depend on one person and that was Spencer Reid. 

But then he met you. 

You admittedly joined the BAU at the worst possible time. Spencer was off work while he dealt with the grief of losing Maeve and he heard all about you through stories from Garcia and JJ. Both women described you as a bouncy, happy-go-lucky, ray of human sunshine. And to be perfectly honest, that filled Spencer with dread. 

It was one of the darker moments of his life and the idea of someone coming in and trying to force their light onto him was the last thing he needed. Spencer liked to deal with his trauma by wallowing in it on his own, he didn’t need other’s trying to cheer him up, to drag him out of the shadows. He wasn’t looking for someone to try and make it better, to take his pain away. 

And then you showed up and you breathed him back to life without even realising you were doing so.

From the moment he met you he had instinctively gravitated towards you, like you were magnets of opposing poles who were inherently drawn to one another. But his wounds caused by Maeve’s death were still so raw that he wasn’t in a position to open his heart up again. 

So the two of you fell into a wonderful friendship, probably the best one Spencer had ever had in his life. You were the light to his dark, the sunshine on his cloudy day. You were the first sip of coffee in the morning, the crisp pages of a new book. You were his favourite song. 

You were his cure. 

The whole team joked about the two of you, often referring to you as work husband and wife. Truthfully what you had was essentially a romantic relationship minus the intimacy. And at some point Spencer found the scars start to heal and his heart began to open up again without his realising. 

Almost two years after you joined the team, when Spencer kissed you for the first time, it was like the most natural thing in the world. 

You’d been leaving work together one night and you offered him a ride home like always but somedays Spencer enjoyed taking the metro to clear his head after particularly long days. 

He walked you to your car nonetheless and as you were saying goodbye he leant in and kissed the corner of your mouth as though it was something he did all the time. And then he kissed you again, this time directly on the lips and the strangest part of it was how it didn’t feel strange at all.

You never talked about what it meant but you didn’t need to. The next time the two of you went to the movies he slid his hands in yours as you walked towards the theatre. He spent the night with his arm protectively around your shoulders while you snuggled against him. 

And outside of your door after he walked you home, he kissed you again, this time much more passionately. You’d subsequently invited him in and the two of you finally took your relationship to a whole new level. 

You never defined your relationship per se. Somewhere over time Spencer started referring to you as his girlfriend and it was just so simple. 

Your relationship had grown and blossomed as though it was the easiest thing in the world, like you’d always meant to be together. Up until he’d met you, Spencer’s life had been full of complications but you were the least complicated thing in the world. 

You were the full stop to the end of all his paragraphs, you banished all the darkness from his life. You were the cure for everything that ailed him. 

But then he was arrested. 

Being locked in a cage for two and half months for a crime he didn’t commit brought all those demons out of the shadows that you had chased away with your light. He was sure even your sunny aura couldn’t bring him back from this. 

And after his release, he started shutting down. 

It started in small ways, ones in which you didn’t even really notice at first. Conversations became more one sided, his casual touches were few and far between. Then he started leaving for work earlier and earlier and you started getting used to waking up alone in an empty bed. 

During his stints of mandatory leave from the BAU you barely saw him and you knew that was by design. It became apparent that he was avoiding you, pushing you away along with the rest of the team. 

But you weren't the rest of the team. You were his partner, you shared a home together; a life together. You were once able to pull him out of any hell he was going through without even really trying. But this time he seemed so lost you worried he’d never find his way back to you. 

Even when he was home, mentally he was elsewhere. Perhaps he was still stuck inside a prison cell at Milburn, or maybe he was trapped in a perpetual nightmare that revolved around Cat Adams. 

You tried to comfort him, to offer him a reprieve from his dark thoughts but after so many attempts you gave up trying. There was only so much you could do and to be perfectly honest, you didn’t think there was any way of freeing him from the clutches of his monsters. 

Seven months after his release from prison, the two of you called time on your relationship. 

You moved out of his apartment and in with Penelope as a temporary measure while you found your own place. You took an indefinite leave of absence from the BAU while you worked on piecing your life back together. 

You didn’t see or speak to Spencer for several months that followed the break up. You made Penelope promise you not to tell you anything pertaining to him, it wasn’t your job to worry about him anymore. And even thought it killed her to do so, Penelope agreed to do this one thing for you. 

Spencer had allowed himself to get swallowed up in the darkness and this time even your magnificent light wasn’t enough to cure him.

***

Three months after the break up you still felt just as fragile as you did the day you moved out of his apartment. Your heart had taken a beating, it was bruised and battered and it would take a long time for it to heal, you knew that. But after three months you thought you might have made some progress. Instead you were still stuck at square one.

You’d moved out of Penelope’s last month into a tiny little studio apartment not far from Dupont Circle. You hated it if you were honest, but it was better than continuing to put Garcia out by sleeping on her couch. 

You hadn't been back to the BAU since the break up and had recently started looking for other jobs. You’d interview at the DC Field Office and were hopeful to get an offer, but it would be bitter sweet. You loved the BAU, you didn’t want to leave, but you knew you couldn’t work with Spencer again. Not with the way your heart shattered everytime you simply thought his name. 

You were trying to move on, it was all you could do. But what you didn’t realise was Spencer living in a whole new level of hell. 

***

The final nail in Spencer Reid’s coffin was when you moved out of the apartment. And what made it a harder pill to swallow was the fact it was his own fault you’d done so. 

He’d thought he’d been protecting you by bottling up his emotions and not dragging you down into the pit created by his time in prison. He thought if he didn’t talk about it, it would go away. This was one thing you couldn’t shield him from, one thing he needed to work through on his own the way he’d grown so accustomed to doing before he met you. 

But he’d pushed you too far, right out the door. And from there his life simply spiralled out of control. 

He left the BAU, just up and quit one day without any warning. He knew it was terrible timing with you taking a leave of absence but he couldn’t stop himself. He woke up one day and decided he’d had enough. 

For the months that followed he didn’t leave his apartment much at all. He wasn’t eating properly, wasn’t showering as frequently as he should and barely sleeping more than a couple of fretful hours a night. 

To be alone with himself like this for eternity would be agony. Without you there to breathe him back to life his appetite for living died. 

On one of his rare trips outside of the four walls of his tiringly lonely apartment, he brought a vial of dilaudid. He kept it in the middle of his coffee table for weeks, unopened, just as a reminder that he could take it if he wanted to. 

But thankfully it never did come to that. Instead of getting high, a particular rabbit hole he may never find his way out of, he drank. 

In actuality, it wasn’t much better and he knew that. Just because he’d never had a dependency to alcohol before didn’t mean he couldn’t develop one, clearly he was susceptible to addiction. But drinking was the only thing that helped numb the pain, aided in distancing himself from his tormented thoughts. 

Without you the demons were able to sneak closer and he lived with them among the shadows. You were always the one to shoulder the brunt of his misery but now he had to face it alone because he’d pushed you away. The lightness in your heart that he had always envied was gone, casting him forever into blackness.

He needed you here, the cure when his thoughts turned to cyanide, when he was going out of his fucking mind. 

He’d been drunk for more days straight than he could count and with each passing day the dilaudid grew more tempting. He moved it from the coffee table more often, rolling the vial around his hand, tapping his nails against it; contemplating the sweet release that would come with just one hit. 

But it never would be just one hit. 

The things he’d seen and done in prison haunted his every waking breath and seeped over into the small window of sleep he managed. He was never going to be the same after that experience, it had hardened him in a way he never realised possible. 

It had created a shell around his heart, a solid armour snugly encasing the organ in order to protect himself from his own emotions. But ultimately it hadn’t just been himself his emotions had been locked away from. 

In the seven months you stayed by his side after his release he hadn’t once been able to tell you he loved you. It only occurred to him after you walked away that he hadn’t said that to you since the morning he’d left for Mexico. 

In seven months the most physical contact the two of you had was a few occasions when you’d dared to place a kiss on his cheek. You hadn’t kissed properly, hadn’t been intimate, hadn’t even so much as held hands since before he made the decision to go to Mexico. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t think about it. There were multiple times he’d almost initiated something, almost drawn you into his body when you were laying in bed side by side yet miles apart. But he always stopped himself.

The sad fact of the matter was: Spencer didn’t trust himself to be with you anymore. But in order to survive in prison he’d had to become someone he didn’t recognise and it wasn’t so easy for him to shed that new persona. And as if to really drive that point home, when he’d had Cat pinned against the wall with his hand around her throat, he knew he would never trust himself with you again. 

The darkness was inside of him now, leaching into every pore. If he was the kind of man who could have killed Cat, or Scratch, and slept well afterwards, who’s to say where he would draw that line? 

As much as he missed you with every strangled beat of his shattered heart, keeping you away from him kept you safe. And he only ever wanted you to be safe. 

But without you, he may well meet his demise at the bottom of a bottle, or the bottom of a vial.

You were the cure. Your eyes have dug him out of his grave more times than he could ever count. You’ve always been the one to breathe him back to life. 

And so maybe it was inevitable that he called you, perhaps it was a feat in itself that he’d managed months on his own. But when he found himself on his bathroom floor, half a bottle of whiskey clouding his brain and a needle full of dilaudid in his hand, the only thing that was going to stop his relapse was you.

He didn’t expect you to answer but he prayed you would. And maybe someone was looking out for him, maybe there was some kind of higher power smiling down on him because you answered after three rings. 

“Spencer…” your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke his name. Just those two simple syllables from your lips wrapped him in a blanket of your warmth. 

“H-hi Y/N.” His own was hoarse, run down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken out loud and it showed. 

Tears rolled down his cheeks, heavy and thick as the hand holding the needle trembled. 

“Did you…did you want something?” Your voice held the weight of the pain he’d cause you and made even more tears fall. 

“Uh…” he stared at the needle, brushing his thumb along the plastic tube. This was so unfair of him. He couldn’t do this to you, drag you back into his mess like this. He knew if he asked you would come running in a heartbeat. But it wasn’t fair of him to ask. “It’s nothing. Forget I called.” 

“Are you sure?” Your tone was riddled in concern. 

“Y-yeah. Sure. V-very sure.” He stuttered, choking a little on his own tears. 

Before you could reply he hung up the phone before he could change his mind and beg you to come and save him from himself. He tossed the device aside and focused on the needle. He leant back against the bathroom wall, pulling his knees up to meet his chest. 

The cool tile on his bare feet was a nice repreve, but the dilaudid would be better. 

His shirt sleeve was already pushed up to his elbow, the tie was already secured around his bicep. The needle was full, all he had to do was press it into his waiting vein and all of his problems would melt away. 

But this was one grave he may never be able to dig himself out of. Once he relapsed there would be no going back, no getting sober this time. But his sobriety didn’t mean as much to him as it once had, and perhaps it was worth succumbing to his demons for a chance at peace.

***

Despite how hard he tried to sound like himself, it was easy for you to see through Spencer’s thinly veiled lie. And as much as you didn’t want to involve yourself anymore, you couldn’t help yourself. 

Taking care of Spencer Reid came as naturally to you as breathing. You didn’t intend on doing it, and most of the time he didn’t need looking after. But you did it anyway in small, every day ways. 

You did it in the way you made him coffee every morning before work. You did it in the way you ran your fingers through his hair after a stressful day. You did it in the way you grasped his hand when he needed something to ground him, when you offered him a soft smile of encouragement when he needed it. 

He’d always called you his cure, as though you were the antidote to all the horrors in the world. He’d told you that your smile was the sweetest medicine, that your mere presence in his life was therapeutic. 

So if there was any way you could help him, even after he’d pushed you away and caused you to leave, you would find it and you would do it. Which was why after he hung up on you, you were quickly jumping in your car and driving across town to the apartment you used to reside in. 

The door wasn’t just unlocked but it was open a crack. Immediately your heart started to race and you were so glad you hadn’t officially quit the BAU yet and you were still in possession of your firearm. 

Your hand shook as you pulled the weapon from your holster, nudging the door further open with your shoulder. You made quick work of taking in the room. It looked to be ransacked, like someone had broken in and turned the place upside down in search of something. 

You held your breath as you silently started across the room, manoeuvring in and out of piles of debris left behind in someone's wake. You headed towards the closed bedroom door, gun pointing right ahead of you. You focused your hearing but thus far couldn’t make out any distinctive sounds. 

Pushing open the door, you found the bedroom in much the same state as the living room. You tried not to allow yourself to get sentimental as your eyes swept across the unmade bed and you thought back to late nights and early mornings snug beneath those sheets with Spencer. The bed that was so big but you’d never know it as he always kept you as close as humanly possible. 

The bathroom door, like the front door, was open a crack and a light pooled from inside. It was then you heard the sound of haggard breathing punctuated by loud sniffing, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to well and truly stand to attention. 

As you listened to the unmistakable sounds of a grown man sobbing, you lowered your gun and tucked it back in your holster. 

A deeply disturbed and troubled man had ravaged this apartment but it was not the work of some petty criminal. Spencer had turned his home into a reflection of his own tortured mind, you had no doubt. 

You were somehow more tentative after you knew someone hadn’t broken in. You had never seen Spencer cry before, he always liked to put up a tough exterior, probably something to do with him being the baby of the BAU for so many years. 

You’d seen him vulnerable, probably more than he’d ever let anyone else see him, but you’d never witnessed him with his walls stripped away completely. And honestly, the thought of it scared you a little. 

But no matter how scared you were, despite how much he had hurt you, you pressed on. 

You inched open the bathroom not wanting to startle him and found him on the floor, hugging his legs to his chest and sobbing into his knees. But the truly terrifying part was the vial and needle discarded at his side. A silk tie was fashioned into a tourniquet around his arm.

“S-Spencer?” You gasped, covering your gaping mouth with your hands. 

He stiffened and slowly lifted his head from where it had been buried in the fabric of his slacks. His eyes were red rimmed and tears silently streamed down his cheeks. His hair drooped lifelessly onto his forehead and his face clearly hadn’t seen a razor in months. 

He somehow looked even worse than when you visited him in prison. 

“Why are you here?” His voice cracked and his words were slightly slurred. 

“You didn’t sound like yourself on the phone. I needed to see you with my own eyes.” You heard the sadness in your own tone, unable to hide it. 

“I’m not myself.” He exhaled a breath that sounded like he had been holding it in for years. “I haven’t been since prison.” 

You swallowed, daring to take a few steps further into the bathroom. Spencer let his legs fall and stretch out in front of him on the linoleum and you slid down to sit next to him, the only thing separating you was the drug paraphernalia. As if reading your mind he exhaled again before he spoke.

“I didn’t take it.” He wouldn’t look at you, instead he looked down at his hands. “I wanted to, but I didn’t.” 

“Why are you slurring then?” You watched the side of his face. He clenched and unclenched his jaw several times. 

“Whiskey. Not dilaudid. I swear.” 

“I’ve never known you to drink.” Of course it was a relief that he hadn’t taken the drugs, but hearing that he was drunk wasn’t a whole lot better. 

“I hadn’t had a drink in nearly ten years. I gave it up around the same time as I quit dilaudid, I guess I worried it would become one vice replacing another. But I needed something. And alcohol was the lesser of two evils.” He was still slurring but he was surprisingly coherent. 

It didn’t surprise you in the least that Spencer could still string a logical sentence together when he was inebriated. 

“Why did you call me, Spencer? Of all the people you could have called, why me?” You whispered as though you weren’t entirely sure you really wanted an answer to that. 

He finally looked at you, glancing to his side with his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip in contemplation for a moment or two as though formulating a carefully curated answer. But really, the answer was incredibly simple. 

“Because you’re my cure.” He shrugged, his tears had dried up but the stains on his cheeks remained. “And right now I am in desperate need of remedy.” 

“Spencer…” You sighed, your own eyes misting over with tears. “I was always here for you, you could have talked to me about anything but instead you shoved me aside and tried to deal with things on your own.”

“I’ve never been very good at asking for help. I’ve only ever been able to rely on myself. People leave. People aren’t reliable. But you…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “You brought the kind of sunshine into my life I could only dream of. You have saved me in more ways than you will ever know. Your mere existence in my life has been more help to me than I can explain to you. That’s why I call you my cure, because it's the best way I can think to describe what you are to me.” 

“I knew you would be different after prison, Spencer. No decent man can go through an experience like that and come out unchanged. But in your bones you are still the Spencer Reid I fell in love with.” You tried to tell him much like you had countless times in those torrid seven months. You hoped this time he might actually hear it. 

“I’m really not sure that I am, Y/N.” He raked his fingers through his tangled hair with a meek shake of his head. 

“I am.” You nodded. “I’m sure. Spencer, whatever you had to do inside was for your own protection. It was every man for himself and you did what you did to survive. And Cat…? After everything she’s done to you, I wanted to strangle the bitch too.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened, looking a little like deer caught in headlights. He was gnawing on his bottom lip haphazardly as he stared at you. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, Spencer.” 

“Do you really think I can come back from this?” 

“Yes, Spencer.” You repeated, defiance in your voice. “And I’m going to help you. Whether you want me to or not. Because my love for you is stronger than the pain you caused me. I will be by your side, showering you in light until there is not even a sliver of a shadow for your demons to hide in. Let me be your cure, Spence.” 

You reached out your hands towards him, palm upwards and fingers spread to create enough space for his own to slot between them. He glanced between your face and your hand a few times before his lip quipped up ever so slightly at the corner in a small smile. 

And then he reached for you, his fingers finding those spaces between your own that always seemed like they were made intentionally to fit his. It was as though someone had crafted you both perfectly for each other. 

Spencer had never been a believer in higher powers but it was the only reason he could fathom for how you had found him. 

In a world consisting of nearly eight billion people, what were the chances of the two of you meeting? What were the odds of two perfectly imperfect people finding each other and slotting together in such an inconceivably faultless way? 

As you sat there hand in hand, Spencer knew he would do anything to keep you by his side for as long as he lived. Even if it meant allowing you to see all his flaws, all his cracks. Because he was certain now you would love every one of his broken pieces. 

You were the light casting away his shadows. You were the air being breathed into his lungs. You were the thread holding him together. 

You were the cure. 

[viviennevermillion]

flowers for an aching heart

✧ notes: day 2 of my "autumn remedies" event! if you liked this fic, consider reblogging and commenting! here's some useful information on how to recognize abusive behaviors in relationships. stay safe y'all!

✧ synopsis: gepard learns of your abusive past relationship and promises to always treat you with consideration and care. 1.8k words

✧ now playing: pink medley — kurt hugo schneider

✧ warnings: mentions of past abusive relationship, aftermath of emotional abuse

To Gepard, you were the most beautiful flower he had ever laid eyes upon. He'd smile at you when you weren't looking, just watching you idly go about your day beside him while asking himself how he had managed to end up with you. He felt lucky that he was privy to your love. After all, through the hardly intelligible stammering and blushing when he had asked you out for the first time, the chance had been there for you to just not understand what he was trying to convey to you. You had told him once that the bouquet of flowers he brought to you that day was pretty much the tell-tale sign that he was attempting to ask you out. Now that he got your affection and love everyday, he hardly remembered what it was he was so worried about. Although, that didn't stop him from getting flustered about it anyway.

At first Gepard had thought that you were shy, just as he was. But as more time passed with him being your partner, he found that that didn't quite fit the bill. You always seemed cautious, as if walking on a tightrope around him. He didn't know what to do to make you realize that he'd always be there to catch you when you fell. You chose your words carefully; always checked back with him whether there had been something you said that had upset him. He just shook his head. "I would tell you if there was anything, promise", he had reassured you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

To you, the love that Gepard gave was anything but self-evident. You've known love that was selfish and exploitative. Escalation and affection that spun an endless cycle, sucking you dry of emotion like a vampire who'd leave you to bleed after they had gotten their fill. You knew now that what you had experienced was but an abstracted distortion of the concept of love and you knew in your heart that Gepard was different. But unlearning that was hard. You tried your best to trust him and you only really noticed you had been tiptoeing around his reactions again when he seemed a little lost about your overly cautious nature.

Probably even more than he did, you too yearned for a love that didn't leave you on edge and you knew that being with Gepard was a step into that direction. He was kind and considerate. He'd always make sure you were alright; would check that you weren't too cold or uncomfortable or overworking yourself. You knew, rationally, judging from everything you had learnt about him, that he didn't expect anything in return; that your love wasn't currency for your freedom and safety. But you supposed that was simply part of the journey. Knowledge needed time to arrive in the mind of the individual and often even longer to settle in their hearts. You'd get there in time. You just hoped he hadn't enough of you by that point.

You knew Gepard was a patient man. Perhaps an amount of patient that astounded you and left you to wonder whether it was just your warped perception; an ideal of him that you conjured up in your mind. You were used to the world around you burning; always a little bit. Sometimes sparks would quietly rise from the wreckage; other times you had been caught in the eye of an inferno. But now that the fire was out; what was there ahead? Where should you start in this unfamiliar world?

You were so lost in your thoughts that Gepard's voice behind you caught you off-guard and you promptly dropped the flower pot that you had been holding. It was a rare seed that hadn't been seen in Belobog for 700 years during the Eternal Freeze. The plant had recently been imported by IPC merchants, but it was still quite hard to get one's hand on. The shattering sound echoed through your ears right into your head and you felt your heartbeat quicken. You remembered how excited Gepard had been about obtaining this plant. It had been growing steadily for about 3 months now and he had been really proud of how it turned out.

You made a mistake. The scars on your soul told you that mistakes would rekindle the fire; reignite the pain. It was why you were careful; why you'd tread lightly wherever you went. The world was burning again in this moment and at the same time the eternal cold was creeping up your skin, leaving you to shiver and freeze, only waiting for what would come next.

Gepard turned his head to you from across his small greenhouse abruptly, alarmed at the sound. He looked a little disappointed about the broken plant but the feeling immediately faded when he noticed the tears in your eyes which you yourself hadn't even realized were there. Gepard put the flower he was holding down gently and made his way over to you. With each step he took, you grew more afraid of his reaction. But instead of getting mad, instead of blowing up like a ticking time bomb, the man you loved simply took off his comically oversized gardening gloves so he could cup your face in his hands and wipe your tears away with his thumb. His delicate touch and the honest and loving look he gave you felt like it was about to burn your skin, yet it felt soothing.

"Hey... don't cry", he whispered quietly and pressed gentle kisses to your skin. First the tip of your nose, then your cheek; until his lips eventually met yours in a sweet kiss. Your lips trembled under his and you felt relief wash over you. And yet, somehow that made you cry more. It felt a little embarrassing, even though that was far from how your boyfriend saw you.

"What's wrong?", he asked, feeling a little lost on what to do. He sat down on the floor of the greenhouse and opened his arms to you. "Come here." You listened and sat down between his legs, letting yourself melt into his arms. You took a few deep breaths and closed your eyes, the world seeming to stop for as long as Gepard kept holding onto you. His embrace was one of safety and protection and sometimes you cursed yourself for forgetting that. But old habits died hard. "Can I ask you a question...?", Gepard seemed hesitant and you knew what conversation this would bring, "I've always noticed that sometimes you seem on edge around me... especially since we started dating... and I keep wondering whether it's something I did. Please tell me how I can make you feel better. I want to make you happy, that's all I really want." You spotted that familiar blush on his face.

This time it was your turn to press a soft kiss to his lips, which seemed to catch him by surprise and just made him even more flustered. You knew he deserved to hear the truth from you, to understand that he didn't do anything to upset you. So you told him. You told him of your previous relationship. How this person had made you scared and hesitant; made you afraid of messing up. How you had lost sight of the parts of you that you liked the most and instead became a people pleaser, at least for a little while. How they made you doubt your perception. First it had been the relationship, then you slowly had started to question your capability for accurate judgement even outside of it. You felt unsure, unsafe. Stuck on a tightrope and only one gust of wind away from falling. You remembered the nights in which you had found it difficult to rest. How you had felt ridiculous and embarrassed of things you had previously been proud of.

Gepard listened attentively. You mused that perhaps, now that you let it all out, you went on a little bit of a tangent. You just hoped you hadn't scared him off. Gepard took your hands into his and looked into your eyes with a sincere expression. "Thank you for telling me... I understand now", he whispered and gently caressed the back of your hand with his thumb; hesitating at first, "I get it, really... my... my father was like that. I don't really talk about it often... in retrospect, maybe I should have."

He let out an awkward chuckle. "Believe it or not... Serval was always the strong one", he confessed, "I couldn't keep anyone safe back then." "You can now. That's what matters", you hugged him closely, "I feel safe with you." Gepard hugged you back. "I'm glad to hear that. I love you", he kissed your cheek again, "you don't ever have to worry about upsetting me. I would never want to hurt you." You nodded.

Gepard pulled out a pack with seeds from his pocket. "Oh, you have another one?", you asked upon realizing it was the same plant you had dropped. He nodded and smiled. "I came prepared."

He stared down at the seeds absentmindedly. "You know...", he began, "I always thought flowers are the most beautiful when they bloom freely without interference; no matter how they turn out. The same goes for people. Even if you mess up, I first and foremost want to see you thrive. I want to support you and be by your side through the good and the bad. And I'll be proud of you for every bit of progress you make."

You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a desperate kiss, tears falling down your cheeks again. But this time they did because you were moved by his words and how much love you had found in them. He kissed you deeply and lovingly, holding your hand in his to reassure you he'd be here with you for as long as you'd have him. He kissed away your sorrows and when your lips finally parted you found yourself with a bright smile on your face once more.

"Sorry about your plant", you sighed. He chuckled. "Seems we both just might be bad gardeners", he got up from the greenhouse floor and reached his hand out to you with an encouraging expression, "but we can try again - together." You took his hand, like a lifeline that was thrown to you to pull you from the deepest depths of the ocean. And looked forward to your future with him.

You knew now what came after the fire. Even the harshest inferno would eventually subside to make space for new beginnings and rebirth. One seed could one day grow into a vibrant garden if you just nurtured it and gave it time.

Life would always reclaim the space that destruction had left behind. And it all started with a couple of seeds, a few discarded flower pots and the warmth of Gepard's smile.

[thequeenb]

The Perfect Ending

2 whole years..who would ever believe that Poppy would be the relationship type? Not me. I know what a lot of you are wondering what the hell we were up to the past years..well let me fill you up.

“Are you done packing? The flight leaves in literally 40 minutes” I say with a pinch of annoyance because one thing about being with Poppy is that you will always be late

“You can’t rush beauty darling” she looks at me over the bathroom mirror and gives me a wink. Ugh sometimes I hate how attractive she is

After Collage ended and we graduated with both our degrees we decided to take a holiday to her Miami Beach house..I know right?

We arrived to our gate and we finally settled down to the plane, of course we sit first class you didn’t even have to wonder.

“Well we have 2 hours so if you excuse me I will get on with my skincare routine” she says and the flashbacks come back almost immediately of our first hookup in her room

“Well your skin looks like shit Hughes so let me do you a favour” she straddle my lap and I am probably looking up at her with starry eyes because she has a satisfied smirk on her face

“I didn’t knew you had a soft spot for me Poppy but a girl can take a break” I wink at her and she rolls her eyes at me..how adorable I always loved when she did that

“If you are my rival you better look good” she casually says and why did I get turned on suddenly? I realise how close she is and how her breasts are pressed against mine. Damn it stop being so horny! But how can I not? Her perfectly glossed lips, her beautiful silk blonde hair..her soft hands working on my face..it’s almost too much

“Bea for the last time do you want champagne? Sorry she apparently has a hearing problem” Poppy says to the flight attendant and I roll my eyes nodding

“I thought after you asked me out you would stop bullying me” I stick my tongue out and I can see a small smile playing on her lips

“Well tell me what got you all parched” she hands me the champagne flute and gives me a smile I could never resist

“That’s for you to find out Min-Sinclair, in the meantime I want to focus to you” I place my hand on her thigh ever so flirty and she lets a small gasp escape her lips

“Careful what you wish for Bea..I don’t play nice, you should be the only one who knows that”

And she is right..if I close my eyes I can pin point the exact moments she tried to ruin me, but on the other side i can almost feel all the times she made me feel like no one ever did before

“Well? Are we playing dirty?” She locks eyes with me and I settle my champagne down.

Her eyes never leaving mine she watches me flip my hair back seductively

“I feel so worked up Poppy..maybe you can help me” this phrase reminded me of that time we fought for the crown..how we had a cat fight in the fountain..how much I wanted her

“I feel so worked up Poppy” it’s the only words that escape my lips “maybe you can help me unwind” are you kidding me? You literally slapped her, dragged her across the fountain and ruined her manicure and that’s what you are going to say?

Interestingly enough she doesn’t look angry anymore..I can feel her heat radiating off her body and she slams me against the fountain, water splashes everywhere as her tongue goes playfully in my mouth and all I can feel is her

I blink a few times trying to cool down and she knows what kind of effect she has on me because she smirks and gets back on her seat. Sigh she is not someone to play with I learnt that from the first time she approached me

Our plane finally lands and a private car was waiting for us to take us back to the house.

I didn’t expect anything less..the car pulls up to a gate and when they open I can see a beautiful house and palm trees everywhere decorating the big garden

The car finally stops and Poppy hurries to open my door. I step out and I try my best not to gasp

“You can gasp Farmsville this is far from the land you grew up on” she winks at me and I roll my eyes

We walk inside and the house is beautiful as expected but what catches my eye is the big window where you can see the beach, the waves the sunset

“This is where I came when you humiliated me in front of all my father’s clients and the whole school” she casually says but a pinch of guilt fills my heart, it wasn’t my proudest moment

I hold the award in my hands and I can’t believe I finally beat Poppy Min-Sin bitch at her own little game. She stormed out after I humiliated her and her parents but why do I feel guilty? Isn’t that what I planned for since I first got here?

“Make a speech make a speech make a speech” everyone is chanting and I finally feel the weight of the award in my hand..the weight of what I just did to Poppy

I hold her tight, a small tear escaped my eye but she just smiles at me giving me a gentle kiss on my forehead “Don’t be sad..remind me to punish you later for that night”

I laugh and I wipe my tears getting my attention back to the window. The waves perfectly collide with the sand and I get the perfect idea

“Let’s go to the beach I am dying to watch the sunset with you” is it my idea or did my proposition made her nervous? She quickly recovers and offers me a smile. Sure she says and she leads me to the coast

She holds my hand tight and for a moment everything looks perfect. The sun is going down and the deep orange colour blends beautifully with the blue sky..the birds fly freely in the air and Poppy looks more than gorgeous under the sunset

I must have been daydreaming for a moment because when I regain my focus Poppy is down on one knee. Excuse me!?

“I get my dress dirty for this so you better say yes” she takes a deep breath and continues

“Since the moment that I met you you have been nothing but a challenge for me, even in the beginning you didn’t know how to dress”

I roll my eyes but I can start feel the tears forming in my eyes, I can’t believe this is happening

“I didn’t even bat an eye at you but you decided to make my life a living hell and I promised to make yours even worse”

“I fell for you since you first kissed me but then I heard that hog calling video and I wanted to go deaf” she chuckles

“I didn’t imagine I could feel this way but you proved to be a worthy opponent and someone who kept me always on my toes..when I found out of your affair with Kingsley I should have used it and destroy you but it only made me more sad”

Now my tears run freely like a waterfall but she is quick to wipe them for me..I didn’t realise I fell to my knees to her eye level..holding her hand so tight

“And since then I knew I didn’t want to be with anyone but you..someone who always challenges me and changes me for the better so that only leaves me with one question”

I gasp when she reaches and opens a small velvet box revealing the most beautiful diamond ring I have ever seen

“Bea Hughes will you marry me?”

I immediately scream yes and she struggles to put the ring on fast enough, we are already covered in sand kissing each other like there is no tomorrow

“I can’t believe you proposed!!” I scream happily and I am not the only one cheering because when I turn around I watch all our friends and family smiling at us “No you didn’t!!”

Zoey hugs me first spectating on my beautiful ring and then comes my parents which I am surprised Poppy flew from Farmsvile.

“From a farm girl to your fiancé how are you feeling?” I smile at her and she simply roll her eyes at me

“Don’t make me regret proposing Hughes”

And that’s how our story ended..watching the sunset with my fiancé gasp! From enemies to lovers and from lovers to newly weds..who knew the two hot rivals from Belvoire could ever end like this? I bet the T would love an inside story about our wedding..I am just kidding..or am I?

Kisses, the T

Tag list: @indecisive-chaos @kiara-36 @ognenniyvolk @somewillwin @ghalind @sergeant-pepper-loves-choices @dibberdipper @aiswood @alexlabhont @uselesslesbianfr @wolfietheduckyou @somin-yin @stanzoeywade @uhh-the-green-thing @jmojellybae @simp-pony @made-me-deep-blue @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @thepotatobleh @thatwhorefromnextdoor @cloud9in @promisedneverwrite @calraquin

[heeheesang]

ʂƚɾαɳɠҽɾ ∂αɳɠҽɾ ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

four -> yn's past. (my apologies for the long chapter🥹)

“yn! that’s literally so funny what—“ byul, elle and i were cut off from laughing as we accidentally bumped into o ur seniors. “oh, sorry.” elle apologised as the three of us bowed as an apology for bumping into them. i looked up to see the three people i least expected to see, jay, ni-ki and jungwon.

“oh, please don’t worry about it.” jay reassured us as elle’s smile widened, meeting eyes with the older male as we bowed again. “aren’t you three auditioning for the new hybe survival show..? if i’m not wrong, you’re kim wonbyul.. kim elle..? and you’re yoon yn.” jay asked when the air became thicker.

“ah yes… we’re happy to meet you..?” i said, trying to form words since we were still new to bumping into idols and all. “was that a question or were you actually forming a sentence?” riki chuckled as i rolled my eyes playfully, “let her off riks, she’s new to this. well, we have to get going but it was nice meeting you.” jungwon said as he stared directly into my eyes.

what? does he wanna kiss me or something what’s with the attitude change?

i scoffed softly as i made an excuse, “sorry i have to attend to this.” i said rolling my eyes as i looked directly at jungwon. maybe i shouldn’t have done that, maybe i should’ve. that’s nothing compared to what he did to me in high school. he should’ve learnt his lesson by now, right?

“yoon yn. YOON YN!” elle yelled back for me as tears dropped down my cheeks, turnimg around as i faced her. “what.. elle. what is it? i’m sorry for acting up but.. i’m sorry go on with the dance practice without me, i’ll just see you next episode.” i said as i smiled through my tears, elle was about to open her mouth again but i just went up to her and hugged her, “i’m fine don’t worry about me.”

i walked past the walkways and got to a dark spot where i always went to if i needed to release my thoughts into space. i was wearing a grey tank with a beanie and some sweatpants as the cold wind brushed my hair, fuck i should’ve brought a jacket. i sighed and took out a stick, lighting it up as i inhaled a puff and let the smoke disperse in the air.

did i deserve that in high school? maybe it was a wake up call… but still, jungwon didn’t start a ‘call yn a slut’ chain, some stupid juniors did. maybe he isn’t all bad, am i thinking too much? jeonghan would hate me if i ever forgave jungwon this quick. jungwon didn’t really hurt me, just mentally and emotionally. again, it’s my fault for pushing him to be in a relationship with me… i knew he was emotionally unready or unstable a few weeks into our relationship so why didn’t he say anything?

“you know… sometimes it’s good to let your members know where you go. and it’s best to let your brother know where you went,” a familiar voice struck in my head as i snapped out of my thoughts, taking another puff of the tobacco flavoured stick as he sighs, “look yn… what i did back then—“

“please. no.” i cut him off as he pointed to the seat next to mine, i nodded and made a big space between us as i took yet another puff. “your friends and your brother are worried. they started coming after me because you talked about me..?” jungwon admitted as he sighed deeply and i nodded, “sorry about them.”

up til now, i hadn’t spared him a single glance. “yn, can we talk?” jungwon asked as he faced me, “we are talking.” i said, before he took my stick and threw it on the floor and used his foot to stop the fire from burning, turning me slowly to face him.

“please?” he said in a soft voice that i almost melted at, i nodded my head.

“i was stupid to say that you cheated, you obviously didn’t and i was at fault. i wasn’t very responsible as a boyfriend and i was seen with multiple girls and i said i had no time for our dates. i’ll be honest, i was jealous of seeing you spend more time with wonwoo than me.. so i made my schedule packed with tutees… i realised how stupid i was to think that i was in the right to tell everyone you chested and those juniors… called you names… because of me.” he took a deep breath to continue but i out my finger to his lips and shook my head with a deep sigh.

“look jungwon. i’m leaving that in the past, i’m happy, i’m glad you realised what you did wrong. i’ve tried everyway to avoid you but i guess the world just isn’t on my side. if we’re going to be label mates then, hello i’m yoon yn. what’s your name?” i said as i offered my hand, “yang jungwon, nice to meet you yn.”

“nice to meet you too asshat.”

masterlist | back | next

taglist! @rosas-in-the-garden @ilikekpop-c @aloloveswonie @jwonistic @drunkhee @h4918ymc @huieee @xiaoderrrr @ilovejungwonandhaechan @yourssincerely-mimi @n1k1mura @nnana2

hhs’ notes! double update!! omg the amount of support on this smau is insane like actually insane i love you all so much especially my readers from my last smau🥹🫶🏻 jungwon and yn making progress..! how do we feel? honetsly so much mixed feelings right now but like… better chapters to come that will cure our curiousity😭 as always, thank you for reading and enjoying this chapter, i’ll see you on the next chapter! i love you all so much mwah mwah mwah🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

[kpopaussieline]

First Kiss With bff!Hueningkai

T/w: Kissing, mention of reader being insecure, I think that's all? Let me know if I missed something

A/n: I was having thoughts and I just had to write them. Sorry if this is bad :)

W/c:💀 Idk. 1k+ maybe? I'm so sorry

You were fairly inexperienced with romance. You'd dated people before, but something always went wrong and the relationships never progressed far.

You'd learnt to live with that. Obviously you just weren't ready, or you just sucked at relationships. Either way, the love life was non-existent right now.

But now all your friends were dating- being affectionate, being couple goals and making you a third wheel.

You were jealous. As cliche and cringey as it sounded, you had so much to give and no-one to give to.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You were hanging out with your best friend, Kai, at his place. You'd spent the past nine hours talking, listening to music, watching Netflix and eating.

And cuddling. Always cuddling. He was so clingy with you, you could be as close as humanly possible, and it still wouldn't be enough for him. Like right now, you had your arms around each other, your legs intertwined. A Marvel movie played in the background, but you weren't paying attention. You were too distracted by the pleasant tingle on your leg where Kai was running his fingers back and forth, back and forth, tracing patterns on your skin.

He snuggled his face into your neck and let out a content sigh. That's when you felt his lips press to your skin.

You craned your neck and gazed down at him with wide eyes. "Did you just kiss my neck?"

Kai looked up at you, blushing. "Yeah... Sorry, I couldn't help it."

You chuckled, still surprised, but finding him adorable when he's flustered. "It's okay."

And it was okay, because you'd been best friends for years and you were nearly too comfortable showing affection at this point. You'd lost track of how many people (including your parents) had asked if you two were actually dating.

Kai focused back on the movie, still snuggled into your side. "You ever think about your first kiss?" he asks out of the blue.

Your eyes darted from the TV to your best friend. You felt yourself blush a tiny bit at the unexpected question. You'd never kissed anyone because- apart from the tragic relationship history- you were insecure about not being good at it, and you hadn't wanted to let your partners down.

"Uh, yeah. I think about it sometimes," you admitted. You pause, then sigh. "I wish I could just kiss someone already."

Kai looked up at you with a soft gaze as his lower lip caught between his teeth. "What if...?" he trailed off, blushing madly and looking away.

You watched him patiently, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Your head automatically tilted to the side slightly as you waited.

He went quiet as he continued chewing his lip and avoiding eye contact. When he finally looked at you again, he seemed sheepish. "What if we have our first kiss together?"

You blinked, not sure you'd heard him right. Your face warmed and your heart started racing. You'd never admit it, but you'd had a little crush on Kai for years now. He didn't know, but you wondered now if he felt the same? Or was he just 'helping out a friend'?

Kai noticed your hesitancy and flushed more. "Sorry, it was a stupid idea. Forget I said anything." He looked away again.

"No, no, it's not stupid!" you reassured him. "I was just... caught off guard, that's all." There was an awkward moment silence. "So, um..." You licked your lips. "Do you want to?"

You really liked Kai. Secretly, you would love to share a memorable first kiss with him. It didn't matter to you now whether it went good or bad, it'd be with your best friend/crush of three years, so it wouldn't matter.

Kai's eyes flickered up to yours, he looked so nervous and innocent. "Only if you want to."

You shrugged, trying to act cool. "I mean, yeah. You're my best friend. I'm really comfortable around you, so I guess sharing a first kiss isn't a bad idea."

Kai sat up and angled his body so he faced you. He licked his lips and glanced down at the covers of his bed. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you suddenly forgot how to breathe smoothly.

You guys made eye contact before his eyes dropped to your mouth. Kai brought his hand to the side of your face as he leaned in closer.

It was fairly quick. Before you could fully process what was happening, Kai's lips were on yours.

It felt...

Electric. Like a warmth- a buzz- was spreading through your body as his lips pressed gently to yours. You put your hands on his shoulders and brought him closer as you moved your lips against his. He responded immediately, putting his other hand around your waist and bringing you against his chest.

You guys stayed like that for a moment before Kai pulled away, keeping you held to his body.

"That was-"

"Shh," you interrupted. You leaned in and connected your lips once more, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The second kiss only lasted a few seconds before there was a knock on Kai's bedroom door. Your heads whipped to the side, jump-scared by the sudden interruption.

"Time to go home!" Kai's mum called through the door.

"Okay!" Kai replied, and you picked up on his slightly breathless voice. That made you smile as you looked at his lightly flushed cheeks.

Kai locked eyes with you and flashed you a playful grin. "We can continue this another time," he teased.

But you knew he wasn't joking. And you were thankful for that, because now that this had happened, how could you possibly look back?

[chaotic-nick]

You can Still Learn: Eren Yeager × Reader

Here's the first instalment for my '400 follower milestone fic specials' with the theme '[Un]learning' where my favourite life lessons in twenty years of living are used for fics!

Plot: Eren's asked why his girlfriend doesn't play any sports, he didn't expect that he'd get mad at something in your past. WC: 1396

Lesson learnt: Playing a sport with a bad group of people ruins it for you, but don't be discouraged because there are people who'll make you want to pick it up again. + Someone will genuinely want to teach you something + the sooner you leave your 'group' of 'friends' the sooner the bad memories stop.

note: Established relationship, college au, reader is coded to have a big chest.

A girlfriend was never something that suited Eren in his first year of university. Quickly making himself known in their batch and their major’s seniors, then university organisations and then the sports teams that wanted him. He’d never maintain a relationship past a conversation. That was what everyone thought of him.

Everyone who knew him agreed that the lucky one signed up for heartbreak. Or worse, fall victim to a classic toxic college romance story.

“Babe,” Eren’s chin dug into her exposed shoulder, eyes scanning the textbooks stacked on the park’s wooden tables. “I don’t wanna leave you here. I already feel bad.”

He called for her again when she slouched forward, abruptly leaving his chin in the air, “Babe.” Truth was, the image everyone knew of him was his personal life bleeding into the impression he made.

Eren was far from what everyone thought he’d be. An abrupt change in the second semester of their second year when he first laid eyes on her.

“Hmm? Sorry, had an earphone in.” Part of it was the fear of letting her down when they first worked on a group project.

As they spent more time with their hands holding each other in her dorm, he turned lovesick. Never wanting to see the worst expressions on her face. “Do you wanna play ball?” He’d even go as far as calling himself the best boyfriend out of everyone in his circle.

“When did I ever play?” She turned to him already knowing that he wore a frown. “I like spending time like this. Really.”

He stood up, dribbling the ball that sat on the ground by their bags, looking for a way to convince her, “This’ll be the first time you’ll play ball and—”

“— first time playing ball outside my dorm.”

His hand froze, a disturbed expression stretching his mouth into a disgusted frown. “Fine. I’m not gonna feel bad leaving you here.”

“Good, good.” 

Eyes followed Eren as he leaned to her table to look at her notebooks spread open. “Whatcha reading? Or notes?” 

“Studying . . . reading into theories . . . parasocial relationships.” Followed by a proud, “Mhm. Big brain stuff.”

He nodded, like always. It was better to just agree. Last time he pushed her into an hour of discussion of colour theory in film. “Cool cool, remember to—” only to be interrupted by a whistle from his friends.

“LOVERBOY YEAGER!” Yelled Jean throwing them a cocky smile to hide the look of envy in his eyes.

Behind him came Connie to wave a hand as he rested his elbow on Jean’s shoulder. “Hey (Y/n).”

“Hello Connie,” then to the blonde that was shadowing Eren, “Reiner!”

The basketball that Jean passed to Reiner returned to him at high speed, bringing a force worse than a punch to his gut. He didn’t need to turn to them, already knowing that it was Eren.

“Don’t look at her like that.”

Holding his gut, he turned to Eren while his face showed that he fought the pained expression from showing, “I’m not?”

“You were.” Reiner pointed out, crouching down for the ball.

Instigating them more, Connie joined, “Yeaah, eyes big, mouth wide open. All that.”

“Does she play anything? Like basketball? Stuck sitting like that?” Instead of lunging at Jean, Eren only held the collar of his shirt up to his chin. “Just curious, really.”

“Honestly, yeah. You two are polar opposites. She studies and you, you just pass.” 

In the hour that they were playing together, Eren properly turned his body to look at her whose form only resembled a shrimp more. “Dunno.” He shrugged.

Reiner joined them to hand Connie the ball, “Pfft, you two are stuck together—”

“—Like always together.”

“Really,” Eren repeated, “We don’t talk about stuff and. . .”

“You’re telling me you don’t know anything other than her name”

“No, I don’t know stuff like that yet.”

“And you’re all head over heels, wow.”

With wide eyes and in the sternest he’s ever been he cut them off, “I can tell you how soft her cheeks are though.”

“Ahh,”

“Great.”

“Like the Mochi Mikasa’s mom makes. Really!”

Subconsciously walking on the exposed side of the road, Eren’s hand now swung the mesh bag where she insisted to keep the ball in rather than, “I don’t want you letting it go and then dying because you got hit.” And the other firmly holding her hand.

“You okay?” She asked, wanting to take a picture of him with her backpack slung in front of him. “I can carry my own bag, ren—”

“No.” Came a firm tone. Silence enveloped them again when they crossed the road, switching sides with her. “Babe, do you play any sports?”

Tiredly she held up her free hand up to his eyesight, clenching it into a fist. “That’s just taekwondo. Not balls?” Then her pointer finger poked out up to touch her thumb, forming a circle. “Dorm activities don’t count.”

“Uh-huh, then it’s a no.” A long look at the side of his face, slowing their pace. “Not even when we’re going rounds and rounds and I tap out?”

“Not at all, babe. Like an actual sport.”

Facing the street again she started in a softer tone, “I wanted to . . .” and when she felt him look down on her she looked up with a grin, “. . . play with balls. You made it come true— sorry. But I wasn’t joking. Got sick after Volleyball— google lied when they said it’s good for asthmatics.”

“Well shit.”

“Mhm, and, and before that, I wanted to play basketball, though.” Joining the line at the their usual takeaway place she let go of his hand and faced him.

“What happened?”

“I think it was the end of tenth grade, bunch of my friends got together in a circle— they were all 

basketball girls and were just throwing the ball around. I thought, why not join them? I need a 

break from studying for exams. And then while I was distracted I was hit in the chest area, when I looked at them they were laughing. Like straight to the boob. Shit, it hurt. So I never played with my own so-called friends.” Looking down, her shirt stretched the text over her chest. “My boobs made it a good target for them it seems.”

“What the— shit! Fuck? Babe what?”

“I mean my boobs were just there so, yeah I guess it was funny to them”

“Still,” he emphasised, eyebrows furrowing together. “That’s shitty of them to do.”

“Come to think of it they always made fun of my chest, that was the only time they hit it though. No, wait . . . three times, I think.”

“Babe,” he repeated, “It’s fucked up shit.”

“It was in the tenth grade, ‘ren.” Waving at the owner’s daughter through the window, she didn’t understand why Eren was more pressed than her.

“So what? Come on babe, you’re learning how to dribble right now.” he caught on quickly and tried to talk in a lighter tone, “—then when you can shoot hoops we’re getting couples’ jerseys, yeah?”

“Oh shut up, let’s go or—”

“Yeah back to the park.” His civility can only last to an extent.

“No, to the dorms after we eat. You need a shower, baptise your clothes in detergent.”

“And you’re hugging my arm.”

“Because if you keep swinging you’ll hit someone.” The image of her wearing a pouted expression before pretending that it was a genuine mistake only boiled his blood more.

“It better be one of your so called friends.”

“I don’t talk to them anymore.”

“Good.” Still, she’s told him enough about them to know that this was . . . tame. “I’m still mad at them, fuckers can burn.”

“Wow.” Unable to stop the grin tugging at the corner of her mouth, “maybe high school would’ve been more fun with you in it, or with genuine friends.”

“And you could’ve learnt— I’m sorry it’s just so, what the fuck, babe?” Seeing his eyebrows meeting like in anger for something that had happened fours years ago brought a smile to her face, a warmth to a heart that only knew rejection when it wanted to learn.

“We can probably do that when we’re done with our tests.”

[countlessrealities]

@evilmcg - Continued from HERE

Wow that threw her for a loop. When it came to mortimer she just kind of assumed they'd remain having a casual relationship forever, but it sounded like he wanted things to get serious.

"Alright I'll bite. We have been having fun, but there are certain things I want from you, but first you gotta tell me something. What exactly do you want from a relationship with me? This game you're playing with me, what's the end goal? What do you really want, Mortimer?"

Morty's lips curled in the smallest frown at Meg's reply, but the hint of annoyance was as quick to go as it had come, and it was almost instantly replaced by a blank mask.

Instead of answering right away, he took the time to retrieve a bottle of scotch and two glasses, pouring a thumb in each before sliding one towards the girl. She didn't have to drink, if she didn't want to. He, on the other hand, was going to have at least a few.

"When I first learnt of your existence and your ties with other me, I just wanted to mess with you and send you running...hopefully into the Blender Dimension, but I wasn't too picky," he started after taking a sip of liquor. His tone was flat and unreadable, not unlike the one his Rick used most of the time. "I wasn't expecting to have this much fun with it. So, after a while, the 'sending you running' part stopped being important."

The real turning point in their relationship might have been that one afternoon they had spent together while he was under the effect of a drug, but the truth was that his despise for Meg had mellowed before then already.

"I never had friends. I don't know how relationships are supposed to work. Platonic, familiar, romantic. I never had the chance to learn about them." He had a family, once, but it was such in name only. "The only relationship I understand is the one Rick and I share and...It can't be applied to anything else."

He wouldn't go into details, he had no wish to. He never talked about his past, never bothered to explain what exactly went on between himself and his second-in-command. It was no one's business but theirs.

"Let me make things absolutely clear." He joined his hands before him, staring at the girl dead in the eye. "I don't see you as an equal and I never will. In my eyes, you will always be beneath me. I won't go out of my way to meet your expectations because I don't care enough to do it. I don't love you and I'll never be in love with you."

She could take or leave it, he didn't care. As long as she was aware that, whatever her decision would be, he wouldn't stop what he had started.

"That said...I suppose that I've started to...like you, in a way. Our little outings are something I've come to look for. You've proved yourself to be less insufferable than I initially thought. I enjoy your company, when I feel like entertaining it."

He was speaking smoothly, but the truth was that being this honest on personal matters was anything but easy for him.

"What I'm saying is that I'd like to keep doing what we've been doing so far and put a label on it. As long as you are aware of what it entails and fine with the limitations I've put on it. I don't let people close, ever. Rick, other me and you are exceptions to that rule. So, I'd like for this...thing between us to be official. You earned that much."

[how-masterful]

My personal opinion on the 'Yaz and the Master' debate is he was absolutely messing with her. Even from the start. From the moment he met the fam he wanted to mess with all of them by giving them what they wanted.

He gave 13 a friend who understood beyond the companion level. He was texting her, he knew spycraft, he was seasoned in alien invasion. He was the genius 13 could bounce off of rather than yank by the hand to safety. He was an equal.

He gave Graham the possibility of knowing more about the doctor. Graham was a parental type, he was curious about just who he, Ryan and yaz had run away with. O had a shelf full of information on the doctor, and offered it to him. He was information.

He gave Ryan involvement. Ryan wasn't truly craving anything from the fam, he'd built his relationship back up with Graham, dealt with his dad, and had promised help to Yaz. All the master had to do was make him feel involved, like he did need to come back, rather than stay at home. He was vindication.

But with Yaz? Yaz was the most desperate. He could see from the moment she was in that chamber that thirteen had a secret favourite. Yaz craved the doctors approval, craved to impress her, craved to be loved. So all he had to do was turn on the charm, tease her and make her feel needed. Not only would that give Yaz pause, but also make thirteen feel jealous too. He had her pinned down as the last one to leave instantly. He was the attention she craved.

I think any 'attraction' people see between them both is purely his jealousy of the doctor manifesting. It's the reason he keeps Yaz around when he's the doctor, why he pushes her buttons when he's the seismologist. Its why he says to her 'stick with me, yaz'- he's taunting her. Because he knows yaz will refuse to leave until she's forced out.

Nothing will ever come close to his fascination with Jo, to me Yaz is the spy master's version of missy's obsession with Clara- a girl who is so desperate to be the doctor, that he can mess with eternally because they know they won't leave until they're pulled away. But Jo was different, she didn't want to be the doctor, she was empowered by him. She learnt from her past mistakes and adapted, like when she learnt to resist hypnosis.

Overall, Yazter wasn't real. It was never intended to be. It was purely the master doing what he does best- pushing the doctors buttons by teasing their closest friends.