#not ready to say it I guess but I feel it w every ounce of myself.

[jokermoreau]

genuinely, I think i’m the happiest I have ever been lol. kinda want to cry about it. idk I just never thought i’d have something like this let alone with someone as great as my boyfriend is. kind of just thought real genuine love / a healthy relationship was something i’d never get to have because of how I look or who I am or what my background is like - i’d just be someone who always yearned and wanted that kind of thing but never get it. and yet here I am. like it’s legit happening to me and i’ve never felt more safe in my entire life . it’s not scary at all in any way and I just feel so overwhelmed with how comforting just being with him feels . what the fuck

[minniepetals]

CEO!au and “I love you and I thought everything was okay but I guess not...“

"I love you and I thought everything was okay but I guess not."

You look up at Jungkook, brows furrowed with confusion, and immediately stop what you were doing to give him your full attention. "Jungkook? What do you mean by that?"

"You've been avoiding us," he states and your heart falls at those pained eyes of his.

He's right, you have been avoiding them, but not because you don't love them anymore — how can you ever not love them anymore? Yet you're sure that's exactly what's been going on in the maknae's head.

"Why, Y/N?" He asks softly. "Is it something I'm not doing? Did I not show you enough love? Was it something I said? Was it something any of us said?"

"It's not you."

"Then what is it?" His voice raises a little louder, a little more desperate, and you hate that you've made him think he could have done better than what he was doing. "If I'm not the problem then why aren't you talking to me? You used to stroll into my office, greet me with that beautiful smile of yours, had a cup of coffee ready for me —and I'm not saying that you have to make me coffee every morning but it's just...it was the thought and the care and the kindness that you just...you haven't..."

Jungkook trails off, voice beginning to break as his lips quiver and you hate every ounce of you because this is all your fault.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"If you're sorry then say something. Tell me why."

Despite how desperate he is, how much it hurts you to see him like this, you still hesitate to say anything to him.

"Y/N," Jungkook calls yet you don't answer. You can't even look him in the eyes. "If you don't love me anymore, just say that."

"It's not...I..." It's not that. You do love him. You love them. You love them more than anything in this world.

The door to his office opens abruptly and in comes Namjoon with heavy footsteps, eyes staring at no one but you. "Why do I have your resignation letter on my desk?"

Jungkook's eyes widens. "You're quitting?"

"Why didn't you say anything?" Seokjin walks in asking.

Despite the bombardment of questions, the crowd that begins to surround you, you remain quiet about everything and you know that it's infuriating them but perhaps it's better this way.

Perhaps it's better that they believe you don't love them anymore. Maybe then they can let you go easier.

"Y/N. Tell us the truth," Yoongi begs. "Please just say something. Anything."

You can't.

"Was it my mother?" When Hoseok walks in, the last to arrive, you look up with slight alarm that immediately gets him to understand. The features on his face begins to darken slightly and you feel chills running down your spine. "What did she tell you?"

"Nothing, she—"

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"If you're not lying then look me in the eyes and tell me she didn't say anything to you," he demands in a commanding voice.

How unfair of him to do that to you. He knows just how bad you are at looking at someone in the eyes when you're lying. So when you can't do it, when you hesitate to do so, they have their answer and Hoseok immediately goes to pick up his phone.

You quickly panic. "W-wait...Please, Hoseok—"

You feel Jimin take you by the hand, as gently as ever, and when you look over at him, his eyes are filled with suspicion and pain. "She didn't hurt you...did she?"

You wish you could lie but not when Taehyung already has his hands on your face and forcing you to look him in the eyes. "She...may have slapped me...a tiny bit."

The way the room turns quite cold makes you shiver abruptly in their presence.

"It's alright," Taehyung promises as he gently caresses your face. "Hoseok will take care of this so you don't have to pretend anymore. Just...please tell me that you still love us."

You weren't supposed to give in but you've already messed up and now you know anything you say against that is a lie they'll come to understand.

"I do." So you say instead. "I love you."

[ayyezhongli]

dom student council pres zhongli x troublemaker childe

Guess who’s back :D Back with some zhonchi smut for all u sinners. Note: Theres a lot of spelling errors bc when i wrote this i was telling it to a friend n they said i should post this n i’m too lazy to edit it so yeah! enjoy <3

summary kinda: child did something n is now stuck in detention with zhongli being a kinky president of the student council watching him.

so childe is bored asf n tries seducing zhongli. but childe has always had a crush on zhongli. thats why he misbehaves to get his attention.

so zhongli says “ur here again” n sighs

“yup did you miss me?! dont answer that bc ik you did”

n zhongli sighs again all annoyed n shit

“seems you never learn”

“maybe i’m jus here bc i love n want to see you everyday”

n zhongli taking that as sarcasm rolls his eyes

“i doubt that.”

and so for like 30mins childe is making all these noises to get zhongli’s attention and annoy him which it works. and zhongli having enough of it already decides that he needs to be punished. so he gets up n walks over to the desk childe is sitting at cups his face with his hand grinning

“u rly like to get on my nerves dont you~…..” and childe’s tryna contain himself

“is it working~?”

“idk pretty boy….wanna find out for urself~…..”

n zhongli is like inches away from childe’s face. n childe still keeping his composure decides to tease back hoping to get what he’s longed for for so long.

“idk do i~?….”

and zhongli leans in n jus as hes abt to kiss childe he pulls away and walks back over to the teachers desk and childe is really disappointed bc he thought he finally had it but jus lost it. so zhongli goes back to working on his paperwork while childe is just furious.

”Is this how u treat everyone?! tease them and leave them with nothing. take advantage of us!!”

n zhongli bursts out laughing putting his papers in a neat stack

”ur quite interesting childe, if i said it was jus u would that make u feel better??”

and childe huffs rolling his eyes still rly pissed off.

“did u want more? were you expecting something more from me? something else?”

n childe blushing looks away

“fuck off”

n zhongli gets mad at the response and pulls out one of those long ass rulers n gets up n starts walking to childe.

“thats no way to speak to the student council president. you need to be punished”

so zhongli sets the ruler aside still pissed asf

“get up.” childe ignores.

”get up right now.” childe still ignores.

so zhongli grabs the ruler smacking it against the desk childe is at.

“GET UP RIGHT NOW!”

n childe jumps a little and gets up

“ok ok chill”

so childe walks over to zhongli n stands in front of him.

“im gonna punish n force you into submission until u completely submit to me”

childe laughs

“no way. you really think u can do that? just try”

“oh i will. just watch me”

(a/n: in this fic childe has bright pink sensitive nipples bc ughh 😩🤌🏾 well both of them have bright pink nipples but zhonglis r rly sensitive.)

so zhongli turns childe around n starts grinding against him causing childe to moan ever so slightly.

“do u like that~?”

n childe tryna keep his composure laughs to cover up a moan. n zhongli looks down and grins seeing childe’s hard erection through his clothes.

so zhongli reaches down n starts palming childe causing slightly louder moans to come out of his mouth.

“your so hard for me childe….what a naughty slutty little boy~“

childe loses it bc zhongli is finally saying the things he’s been dreaming of him saying. so zhongli amused starts licking the shell of his ear biting and nibbling it which makes childe blush harder. so zhongli reaches his hand down into childe’s pants and boxers and wraps his hand around childe’s dick which he almost cums. so zhongli starts pumping him n not even 30s he throws his head back on zhonglis shoulder n cums letting out a loud moan

“fuck zhongli~…..”

zhongli smirks very amused

“so quick to cum~ do i rly turn u on that much~?”

n childe fights the urge to nod his head and submit. he’s not going down without a fight.

“no i was just pent up. why would i be for someone like you!!”

zhongli snickers and slides his hands up childes shirt n starts taking it off.

“not submitting yet i see~….”

“did u think it would be that easy asshole? ha!”

so zhongli turns childe around.

“you should just give up now! your not go-“

n zhongli interrupts him with a passionate kiss. a long deep one filled with sexual tension n desire. he leaves childe blushing like crazy and gasping for air.

“what was that? i didnt catch the last part, say that again.”

“i said that i’m never gonna sub-“

n zhongli interrupts him again. same thing happens like 2 more times until childe gives up.

“can u repeat that one more time?”

and childe looks away with a annoyed expression on his face

“glad that shut u up~”

so then zhongli looks childe up and down bites his lip causing childe to blush.

“you’re kinda cute…i think i can use u….”

n childe blushes more

“and these nipples….”

zhongli says while pinching them making childe arch his back and moan loudly.

“they look pink and innocent…but when i pinch n twist them like this…”

childe lets out n even louder moan with a face flushed even more n drool running down the side of his mouth

“….you make such naughty noises and that really turns me on.”

and so zhongli continues pinch n play with them and then starts marking his neck.

“what if i made u mine hmm? my little fuck toy? or how abt pet?? you could be of some use to me….”

and all childe can do is whimper. so zhongli has him bend over on the teachers desk and pulls down childe’s pants. and he like squeezes childes plump round ass and caresses it before grabbing the ruler and spanking him with it which causes childe to moan n cum immediately.

“ur such a slutty masochist”

n childe groans n is like stuttering his words

“w-w-well ur so fucking sadis-“

n zhongli spanks him not with the ruler this time but his hand n childe jus looses it.

“ready to submit….?”

n childe tryna keep the ounce of pride he has left shakes his head.

“no!”

zhongli spanks him again.

“how abt now?”

“No!”

n so zhongli gets an idea n sticks his fingers inside childe’s mouth.

“suck”

childe does so n a minute later zhongli pulls them out.

“what are you gonna d- ahh!”

and zhongli’s fingers are wiggling around inside childe tryna get him prepared. childe has just completely lost it. he’s drooling all over the desk, moaning so loudly that if there was people here they would be able to hear, clinging onto the edge of the desk like his life is on the line.

“f-fuck zhongli…ahhh”

he’s a panting slutty mess. a fee mins later zhongli pulls his fingers out n takes off his own pants and boxers lining himself up to childes entrance. he inserts only the tip of his dick causing childe to go even more crazy if thats even possible n moan so fucking loud. but its been long enough. he wants more. more of zhongli inside him. he wants all. all of zhongli inside him. so he whimpers n cries out zhongli’s name.

“whats the problem sweetheart?”

zhongli says grinning from ear to ear.

“pls..”

childe says desperately

“pls what?”

”pls zhongli i-….”

“you…? gotta tell me what u want otherwise i wont know.”

“pls i want more of u….!!”

“beg for more than.”

“Zhongli pls i want ur cock inside me so bad. pls i’ll do anything!! just fuck me already!!”

“anything…?”

zhongli says slipping half way inside him.

“y-y-yes just pls fuck me!!”

n zhongli, a very satisfied man jus starts pounding into him hitting his g spot every time.

“Fuck! fuck! fuck! FUCK! ZHONGLI PLS SLOW DOWN AHH~!!”

n that only makes zhongli speed up and childe cums like multiple times. after a while, giving a few last thrusts zhongli comes for the second time inside childe. and pulls out while childe just drops to the floor completely unable to move or anything. jus a panting blushing hot slutty mess with zhongli’s cum dripping out of him. all pride lost. pulling his pants and boxers back on zhongli lifts him up to his feet and bc childe has no strength he just falls onto zhongli resting his head on his shoulder.

“now that you’ve completely submit to me, ur all mine~….mine to do whatever i pls with. mine and only mine. No one else….”

and childe jus nods groaning bc of the pain.

”i hope u learned ur lesson now. unless…. you wanna comeback again for another visit…”

n childe jus groans again.

“i see the way you look at me childe….a look filled with lust and desire…its really quite a turn on~….. you look so desperately….so needy….so vulnerable…the amount of times i wanted to bend you over and fuck u so hard until you cant walk is too much to count. i wanted to make you mine so no one else could have that innocent slutty little boy who’s just oozing with sexual desire. any man or woman would get turned on n wanna have there way with you. u needed to be protected and only by me.”

so zhongli grinds his teeth bc of how possessive he is.

“so no one but me can fuck u stupid. and now that ur finally mine…i dont have to worry abt it so much as before”

n so zhongli strokes childe’s hair n plants a kiss on his head.

“you’re my precious little play thing.”

and childe, burying his face into zhongli’s chest smiles bc thats all he ever wanted. and then he looks up at zhongli as zhongli looks down at him smiling.

“zhongli…?”

”yes?”

“if all u said was true….why were u such an asshole to me. you were stricter on me than others, ruder to me than others, tougher on me then others….so why?”

“why?”

zhongli chuckles n childe nods

“to keep a good reputation, but i also wanted to push you, everytime u got angry and gave me attitude it only turned me on. which is why i kept going….does that answer ur question?”

n childe grunts

“u sadistic fuck!”

n zhongli laughs

“says the one who got turned on every time i public humiliated or yelled at you….”

“thats not true!!”

“uh-huh…the sexual energy u admit would become stronger and i could hear your breathing getting heavier with breathy tiny moans and u would always part ur lips slightly and rub ur thighs together and on top of that, ur eyes squint ever so slightly.”

childe was speechless bc this whole time he thought he was being slick.

“w-w-well that doesnt matter!”

childe said huffing and zhongli only chuckled and kissed his head.

“hey childe…”

“what!”

“i love you….”

childe was blushing like crazy. never in a million years did he think zhongli would say that.

“you can’t just go randomly saying those things?!!”

childe said burying his face deeper into zhonglis chest.

“b-but i love you too i guess…”

he mumbled and zhongli smirked.

“look at me.”

childe looked up into zhonglis ambers eyes embarrassed asf.

“wh-wh-what is it?”

“you’re really cute yk.”

n zhongli leaned down slightly and kissed him before he could say anything else. the end :)

thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed even though its formatted weird and kinda sorta a story. 🥰

[qyuoza]

Heartbreak 101 for Idiots (PJW)

“Well, I can help you fall in love again if that’s what you want”

Genre: Fluff, really fluffy and adorable

AU: Nonidol!au

Warnings: none

Summary: He was an idiot but he was determined to make you smile, plus, Jeongwoo did read the idiot’s guide to heartbreak.

-

“I heard you’re in love” Jeongwoo sing songs. You look at him, a painful smile on your face.

“In love? Where’d you hear that from?” You chuckle. Deep down, you were trying to hide the heartbreak that was bestowed upon you.

“I mean, are you? Haruto told me you were” the boy grinned. It amused you knowing that Jeongwoo would never experience heartbreak, not when everybody around him practically loves every ounce of his own being.

“I guess you could say I was? I have no real idea of what love feels like anymore” you admitted, embarrassed by the confession.

“Well, I can help you fall in love again if that’s what you want” Jeongwoo says, voice filled with determination. He was going to be the death of you honestly.

“Will you show me?” You ask, questioning his enthusiasm. He only nodded furiously as he held out his hand slightly, only for you to give him a confused look.

“What? You wanted me to show you, so take my hand” Jeongwoo huffed. You laughed, taking his hand in yours as you both ran through the dimly lit park, not a single care in the world.

Welcome to, an Idiot’s Guide to Heartbreak:

Step 1. Ask the Person how they feel

You felt a ball of paper being thrown at you, and you immediately look up to see Jeongwoo crumpling another one from across the table.

“Do you need anything? I’m trying to study here you know” you roll your eyes as you grab the last piece of paper thrown at you.

“How are you? You know, after the breakup?” Jeongwoo asks, throwing the other paper he crumpled at you for the upteenth time.

Your face immediately stiffens as Liz tries to calm you down. The girl shoots Jeongwoo a disapproving look as Haruto tries to stifle a laugh from beside him.

“Jeongwoo I don’t think you’re supposed to ask someone how they feel after they got their heartbroken” Baeksung grimances.

Jeongwoo gives you an apologetic look as you shrug in reply. He didn’t mean to, he only followed the book and you knew he meant well.

Step 2. Comfort the person who got their heart broken

A knock echoes across your room. You look up from your sketchbook and tell the person knocking to come in. Then you turn around to see Jeongwoo with a bag in his hand.

“Sorry about yesterday, I didn’t know that I was touching on a sensitive subject. So to make it up to you, and with help from the others, I got your favorite food and some other things you might like” Jeongwoo said sheepishly, and holding the bag towards you.

You smile and walk over to him to retrieve the bag, after all, he did go through a lot of effort just to give you the things inside of it. There were a few candies, some family sized bags of chips and sanrio themed stationery and art supplies.

“Jeongwoo what?! You didn’t have to get me all this! I’ll pay you back I promise, but thank you so much for these!” You felt bad, yet it was the thought that counts, so you made it a reason for him to compensate for whatever he said about your heartbreak.

Step 3. Offer a good distraction for the person who’s heart had been broken

“Do you wanna go to the arcade?” Jeongwoo suddenly quipped. You looked at him and shrugged, you had nothing better to do anyway so why not kill time?

“I don’t see why not. Let me change and we can go right after” you reply, and stand up, getting ready to change into something comfortable.

“I’ll wait downstairs then! And don’t take too long, you already look good” Jeongwoo teased. This comment flustered you as you threw a pillow at him, the boy only laughing as he dodged your attempt.

After changing into a casual cropped sleeved zip up jacket and sweats, you walk downstairs to see Jeongwoo on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“There you are! Now come on, we don’t have all day” he grins. The two of you slip on your shoes and walk to the arcade just a few blocks away from your neighborhood.

“You’re paying this time ok? I paid for our food already last time we were out so it’s only fair you spend your money too” you jeered. Jeongwoo rolls his eyes playfully and nods, taking out his wallet to pay for tokens and a card.

The two of you had spent a few more hours playing games before finally growing tired and getting ready to go home.

“Wait Jeongwoo! Let’s take one picture in the photobooth!” You say excitedly, dragging the poor boy over to the corner with two photobooths.

“Y/n I’m so tired though” Jeongwoo whined, but it was far too late. You two were already seated in the photobooth, and the timer had already started.

“Wait how do I po—“ the shutter clicked and Jeongwoo couldn’t even react as you leaned in did a heart pose.

“Jeongwoo pay more attention! Come on one more” you giggle, getting ready to do a different pose. Though, Jeongwoo had other ideas in mind for this picture.

As the shutter clicked again, you felt a soft sensation on your cheek, and before you even realized, Jeongwoo had kissed you.

“How’s the picture?” He asked, as if he hadn’t kissed you a second prior. You stared at the photo and hid your face, it was a cute picture, you couldn’t deny it, but it left you flushed.

That’s when Jeongwoo realized he didn’t need to do step four of the guide, because he could just mend your heart differently in his own way.

© RIKISZN 2022 -. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[drabbles-mc]

Hurricane

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Inspired by This Song and Day 26 of the July Prompts: hurricane

Warnings: angst, language, alcohol

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I couldn’t separate the word prompt from the song so it ended up being a little bit of a mashup here for Day 26 lmao. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

Angel Reyes Taglist: @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @kelpies-shed @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @encounterthepast @lilacyennefer @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @luckyharley1903 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @black-repunzel99​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @punkgoddess-98​ @lexondeck​ @mrsstevenbuchananstark​ @berniesilvas​ @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo​ @amorestevens​ @angelreyesisdaddy04​

You’d been going back and forth with your friends for the past few days. They desperately wanted you to come out with them, saying that you had spent enough time at home wallowing and now it was time to get back out into the world. You knew that it was coming from a good place, but you also didn’t really think you were ready for the bar and club scene again just yet. Plus, it was a small town and there was no guarantee that Angel wouldn’t be there with the guys.

The last time that you’d talked to them, you told them that you were sitting this one out, that maybe you’d be up for joining them next weekend. They weren’t happy about it per se, but they also knew that it wasn’t like they were going to show up on your doorstep and drag you out with them. So that was the end of the discussion, and the group-chat delved into other topics.

However, as the evening wore on and you were sitting on your couch at home, you couldn’t help but to rethink your decision. As much as you enjoyed your alone time and solitude, it might do you some good to go and be with your friends. It wasn’t like you had to get shitfaced, or throw yourself at the nearest available target. It was possible to just go out and socialize for a couple hours to remind yourself that you could still do it. With a sigh, you got up off the couch and made your way to your room to pull together an outfit. Something simple, but cute. You pulled your hair and makeup together and before you knew it, you were taking off out the door in hopes that the evening was going to go better than the scenarios in your head.

Meanwhile, Angel got basically bullied into going out with the guys for the night. Gilly was about one more argument away from strapping Angel to the back of his bike and driving him out himself. Angel was outnumbered and he knew that if the roles were reversed, he’d be ruthless with his friends as well. So even though he didn’t want to, he rolled out with the rest of them.

The relief that flooded through him when he walked into the bar and didn’t see you was immeasurable. His heart dropped into his stomach at first when he saw your friends, but once he realized that you weren’t with them, he was able to relax a little bit. He was still a little nervous as he approached the guys, not in the mood to catch flack from all of your friends, but they were surprisingly cordial. If you were there it might’ve been a different story, but he was taking his wins where he could get them.

He and the guys were locked into a competitive game of pool. Your friends had migrated to a different part of the bar, and it helped Angel breathe a little easier. Meanwhile, a few different women had begun to hang around the pool table, clearly trying to shoot their shot with Angel and the other guys that were with him. The guys were eating it up, and Angel wished that he could’ve been more enthused about it, but he had no real interest in entertaining any of it.

Just as he was about to take his next shot, the door to the bar opened and he instinctively looked up to see who it was. He wished that he hadn’t, though—the air immediately got sucked out of his lungs when he saw you walk through the door. You looked more beautiful than he remembered, if that was even possible. He could see it on your face that you weren’t totally committed to being there, the same way he was.

“Take your shot, bro, c’mon,” Gilly snapped him out of his daze.

“Shit,” Angel shook his head and tried to focus on the game, but his mind was already too far gone. He missed his shot, and it cost him and Coco the game. He didn’t even really notice EZ and Gilly celebrating their win as he put the pool stick down and headed towards the bathroom, needing a minute or two out of the noise and chaos to get his head back in order.

When he walked back out, he saw you standing by the bar talking with EZ. You sipped on your drink and nodded as you listened to whatever his brother was saying, and every single emotion that he had been trying to stuff down came back up. He clenched and unclenched his hands a few times, trying to steady them. There was no way that he was going to get out of this without talking to you, acknowledging you somehow. It seemed so effortless for you, like it cost you nothing to stand there and talk to Ezekiel, meanwhile just the sight of your friends earlier in the evening almost made him turn around and walk out of the bar.

Deciding that he couldn’t put it off any longer, he made his way up to the bar and landed next to EZ. You saw him coming from the second he walked out of the bathroom, but you chose not to make it awkward. You didn’t want to seem like a majority of your attention was really on him while you were talking to Ezekiel. However, now that he was standing in front of you, you couldn’t quite peel your eyes away from him.

“Hey, Angel.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, “Didn’t think I was gonna see you here.”

“You almost didn’t,” you let out a quiet laugh, “Was a last-minute decision to join the party.”

He nodded, “Gotcha.”

EZ could feel the awkward tension in the air and he truly wanted no part of it. He had no problem talking with you, truthfully, he missed having you around. However, he wasn’t in the mood to have Angel lingering over his shoulder and into the conversation. So, with as much grace as he could, he excused himself and made his way back to Coco and Gilly. It left you and Angel standing there in front of each other, trying to figure out what the next move was going to be.

Letting out a small sigh, you sat yourself down on one of the barstools and nodded for Angel to join you, “Next round on me if you want,” you offered up a cautious smile.

His stomach was in knots but he took you up on the offer and ordered another beer as he sat down next to you. There was a small stretch of uncomfortable silence, neither of you really knowing what a safe topic to talk about was. Angel’s feelings were resting on the tip of his tongue, and truthfully you weren’t in much better shape than he was.

“I see EZ made it through his Prospect stint,” you finally broke the silence, “The full patch looks good on him.”

Angel laughed, nodding, “Yea, made that vote by the skin of his fuckin’ teeth.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Lemme guess, you were the one who almost didn’t vote him in?”

A smirk crossed his face, an expression that you had been missing more than you cared to admit, “Is it that obvious?”

“If it didn’t mean that he’d have to spend a whole ‘nother year prospecting, would you have done it?” you asked with a laugh.

“Maybe,” he took a swig of his beer as he watched you laugh and shake your head.

The sound of your laughter nearly brought him to his knees. He didn’t know how long it had actually been since the last time he saw you smile and laugh, but it felt like it had been an eternity. Muscle memory was trying to take over and it took every ounce of self-control that he had to not reach out and try to hold you, to kiss you. He watched the way you drummed your fingers along the sides of your glass and all he wanted to do was reach out and take your hand in his own. But he couldn’t. You were mere inches away from him but it might as well have been miles if he couldn’t hold you the way that he wanted to.

“I won’t lie,” you said, your expression sobering a little bit, “I almost walked out when I saw that EZ and the guys were here. I, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see you.”

His felt his heart starting to beat faster in his chest, “What made you change your mind?”

You shrugged, taking another sip of your drink, “I miss you.”

Those three words washed over him like a tidal wave. It was everything that he had been wanting to hear from you for so long. He knew that it didn’t change anything or fix anything, but it suddenly felt a little easier to breathe.

“I miss you too,” he couldn’t even try to lie or downplay it—he wasn’t that good of an actor.

“Are you seeing anyone?” the question came out before you could stop it. You knew that it wasn’t any of your business, and that regardless of what his answer was it wasn’t going to change anything. But there was something in you that just needed to know.

“Nah,” he shook his head, eyes fixed onto his beer bottle, “You think I’d be out with these jokers if I was?” he nodded towards his friends with a laugh. There were a couple beats of silence before he asked, “You?”

You shook your head, “No.”

It felt like you should have some sort of a follow-up statement, but you didn’t. Part of you had almost wanted to lie and say that you were, just so you wouldn’t be confronted with the tension that you were now encompassed in. You were the one who called things off to begin with, and it felt wrong that you were so conflicted about it now, after so much time had gone by. It was too late to take back what you said then, or what you’d just told him now. You could feel his eyes on you as you looked anywhere but back at him. Part of you hoped that he would be smart enough, strong enough, to get up and walk away from where the situation was headed, but you knew that he wouldn’t be. You could spend the rest of your night staring at the glass in your hands and he would be next to you the entire time. For as much as you hated being away from him, he hated it even more.

“Do you still wanna be here, querida?” despite his voice being so quiet, you heard him perfectly through the noise of the bar.

You finally looked back over at him and shook your head, “No.”

He nodded towards the door, “Come on, then. Let’s go.”

“Angel, I don’t think we sho—”

“You could’ve gotten up and walked away when you saw me, but you didn’t,” he got up off his stool and stood in front of you, a pleading look in his eyes, “And I coulda walked out the second I saw you talking to EZ, but I didn’t. What’s the point in kidding ourselves here, hm?”

There was a slight tremble in your hands as you took in everything that he was saying to you. He was absolutely right. You’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to get your mind off of Angel for weeks. But no amount of distractions and keeping yourself busy was effective—your mind always went right back to him. You didn’t know who you were trying to kid by hesitating. There was no way you were going to turn away from him again, not after the turmoil the last few weeks had brought you when you tried to get on with your life.

He held his hand out for you to take. You paused for a moment, wondering if you’d have a sudden surge of self-control, but you knew yourself better than that. Setting your hand in his, you hopped off the stool, immediately comforted by the sensation of his hand clasping around yours. Tossing a few bills onto the bar to cover your tab, you let Angel lead you towards the door. You thought about touching base with your friends, but you knew that they’d know what happened. Looking at Angel’s expression, you could tell that he was having much the same thoughts about his own friends. But EZ had felt the tension and you knew that he’d put it together immediately.

Stepping out of the bar and into the night air, you let the breeze wash over you and cool you off as Angel led you towards his bike. Any last bit of resolve that you had in you was gone the second that you laid eyes on his bike. All of the long days and late nights out on the road with him came rushing back to you and a smile appeared on your face. Angel glanced back at you, and when he saw the look on your face, he couldn’t help but to pull you closer, cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your lips.

Your hands rested on the beat-up leather of his kutte, leaning your chest against his as you let yourself get lost in him. There was so much that the two of you should’ve been saying and doing instead, but that didn’t matter anymore. Feeling the way that his rough hands rested so gently on the sides of your face felt like coming home and you’d been away from it for far too long. You could feel the way his body started to relax as his lips continued to move against yours, trying to get all that he could while he had the chance, not knowing when this was going to get ripped away from him again.

When you finally pulled your lips off of his, you reached up and lightly trailed your fingertips though his beard. Forcing your eyes up to meet his, you could see that there were countless thoughts and feelings swirling around in them. There was a tinge of sadness, but mostly it was desperation, and you couldn’t say that you were in much better shape than he was when it came to that.

Letting your hands drop back down and interlock with his, you nodded towards his bike, “Let’s go.”

[gamergirl929]

Baby Horse (Alex Morgan x Reader)

It’s a routine sunny morning in Florida when you meet Alex Morgan. Alex Morgan who you’re currently writing a parking ticket for, for forgetting to feed the meter... 

Little did either of you know that this chance meeting would change both your lives forever. 

“Shit.” Alex grimaces when she sees a police officer standing beside her car, a notepad in hand, a notepad which is, OF COURSE, full of tickets.  

“Wait! I’m here!” Alex grimaces as she jogs up to the car, having been an hour late to feed the coin machine that she’d parked beside.  

Your brow arches as you turn to her, taking off the sunglasses covering your eyes.  

“You didn’t think that would work, did you?” You shake your head, turning back to your notepad.  

Alex is taken aback, not because of your bluntness, but because you’re absolutely stunning. She swallows hard, tracing your jawline with her blue orbs, the woman smiling when she sees your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth as you write her, unfortunately, a ticket.  

Her eyes run down your uniform, her mouth drying slightly, her eyes running along the name plate on your chest reading Y/L/N.  

“Is there anything I can do?” Alex frowns and you sigh.  

“Sorry miss, you know how it is here, most of Florida’s funding comes from these meters.” You tease with a tiny smile, something that, despite the situation, makes Alex chuckle.  

The woman sighs, unlocking her car before leaning against it.  

“Do you write tickets a lot?” She asks and you chuckle.  

“More than you know, no one seems to feed the meter.” You glance up at her, your eyes widening.  

“Y-Y-You're...” You clear your throat, glancing around, realizing a number of pedestrians are standing nearby.  

“Keep it moving guys or I’ll ticket you for loitering.” You nod your head in the opposite direction, those around you begrudgingly slinking off.  

“I imagine you deal with that a lot Ms. Morgan.” You frown, the USWNT player shrugging.  

“I’ve gotten used to it really.”  

You clear your throat, taking a step towards her, tearing the piece of paper from your notepad before folding it in half.  

“Well Ms. Morgan, I hope your day gets a little better, it was a pleasure meeting you.” You smile, handing her the slip of paper.  

Alex pouts, opening the slip of paper, her brows furrowed when she only sees the word, WARNING scrawled across it.  

She picks her head up, her lips splitting into a grin that you can’t help but mirror. 

“Try and keep the meter fed next time, yeah?”

Alex surprises you by resting a hand on your forearm, goosebumps sprouting beneath her fingertips as she gives it a squeeze.  

You completely miss the fact that her cheeks flushes, the woman keenly aware of the firmness of your forearm’s muscle.  

“Thank you for this, really.” She gives it another squeeze and you nod.  

“Just don’t make it a habit.”  

The woman’s hand slides from your arm as you take a step back.  

“Enjoy the rest of your day Ms. Morgan.” You turn on your heels, ready to take your leave but her voice stops you.  

“Please, call me Alex.”  

Your lips split in a grin.  

“Alright, enjoy the rest of your day, Alex.”  

Alex watches you go with a smile, her cheeks flushed bright red as she glances down at her ticket before lifting her gaze, catching you just as your rounding the corner and out of sight.  

Alex’s heart skips a beat in her chest, the woman grinning.  

“Oh, I will Officer Y/L/N.”  

                                                           ***

The only thing Alex really regretted about that day was not asking for your number, which she was sure would’ve been unprofessional, but for some reason, you’d made her feel something she hadn’t felt before, with ANYONE.  

That feeling is what leads her to the Precinct whose number was stamped across the top of the ticket.

Alex warily wanders into the police station, a number of the officers looking her way with wide eyes.  

“Hello, how can I help you?” The man at the front desk asks and Alex clears her throat.  

“I was looking for Officer Y/L/N. I wasn’t sure if she’d be here or not.”  

The man hums.  

“She actually just left for her beat.” He frowns and Alex nods, knowing exactly where she could find you.  

“Thanks for your help.” She smiles, turning on her heels and heading for the exit, an extra pep in her step.  

With luck, she’d find you where she met you weeks ago.  

                                                           ***

Nearly an hour after searching, Alex is about to give up, that is until she rounds the corner heading to her car, the woman running, literally straight into you.  

“Whoa, pardon me.” You frown, your hands moving to her waist to keep her from falling.  

Your eyes double in size when you realize who it is standing before you.  

“Ms. Mor-  

You stop midsentence, clearing your throat.  

“Alex... I hope you fed the meter.” You tease, a grin stretching across your face, a grin that Alex mirrors.  

“I did, even if I WAS looking for a certain officer who gave me a warning a few weeks ago.” She shrugs and your brows arch, your head tilted to one side.  

“You were looking for me?” You ask in confusion and Alex nods.  

“I forgot to ask you for something a few weeks ago.”  

You hum, eyes widening when you realize you’re still holding her waist, retracting your hands with a blush.  

“W-w-w-well um, what was it that you needed?” You ask, stuttering slightly.  

Alex giggles, the sound making your cheeks flush.  

“Your number.”  

Your eyes widen, nearly bulging from your skull.  

“M-M-My number?” You ask, doing your best to bite back a smile.  

“Yeah, your number.”  

You shuffle from foot to foot nervously, Alex’s heart skipping a beat as you glance away shyly.  

You shrug.  

“I guess I could give you that.”  

                                                           ***

After that day the two of you texted nonstop, at least of course, when you were both able to.  

Every time you got off of work the first thing you do is message Alex, the USWNT player the first thing on your mind when you wake up and the last thing on your mind when you fall asleep.  

Your favorite sound had become that of your chiming phone, dinging with the specific chime you’d assigned specifically to Alex’s number.  

It wasn’t long before you realized what you’d felt for her was more than friendship, you only hoped what she felt for you was the same.  

                                                           ***

Nearly two weeks later Alex is pacing the length of her living room, her heart racing in her chest, her phone against her ear.  

“Jan, seriously, just ask her, I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.” Kelley says through the phone’s receiver and Alex sighs.  

“What if I’m looking into it too much, what if she doesn’t like me.” Alex pauses. “Th-That way.”  

Kelley snorts loudly into the phone, so loud in fact that Alex has to pull the phone away from her ear.  

“Dude, she likes you, ANYONE can see that.” She snickers and Alex rolls her eyes.  

“So, I should...?”  

Kelley barks out a laugh.  

“INVITE HER OVER TO DINNER TOMORROW!” She yells and Alex sighs, the butterflies in her stomach flapping their wings.  

“T-T-Tomorrow?” She stutters and Kelley chuckles.  

“Yes Jan, tomorrow.”

Alex clears her throat, nodding.  

“Alright... T-Tomorrow.”  

                                                           ***

You couldn’t believe you were currently making your way to Alex Morgan’s house, a house that wasn’t at all hard to find considering its was massive in size. 

You clear your throat, killing your car’s engine before wiping your hands down the front of your old academy shirt.

You nod to yourself.  

You were incredibly nervous, so nervous in fact that your clammy hands had slipped on your steering wheel multiple times on the way here.  

Alex Morgan had invited you over for dinner, ALEX MORGAN, a woman who over a month ago you’d been about to ticket nonetheless.  

You clear your throat, scanning your face in the rear-view mirror.  

You nod.  

“I got this.”  

                                                           ***

It takes every ounce of strength Alex has to not look out the window at the sound of a coming car, but that strength ebbs away when she hears a car door slam shut.  

She bounces on her heels.  

You were here, you were here at her house and about to come inside.  

Alex glances around nervously.  

What if you thought the house was messy?  

What if you weren’t satisfied with what she was making for dinner?

Considering her thoughts are so loud, she misses the fact that you’d finally gained the courage to knock on the door, your brows furrowing when she doesn’t answer.  

You knock, uncertainly the next time, pulling Alex out of her trance, the defender stumbling as she rushes to the door, jerking it open.  

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you the first time.” Alex smiles, the woman’s blue orbs widening as her eyes rake down your front.  

You’d forgone the uniform, which of course, Alex loved, and instead went with what Alex suspected was a shirt from your time in the academy and a pair of ironed jeans.  

Your eyes widen when Alex moves closer, her arms slipping boldly around your neck.  

“Good to see you” She whispers in your ear and you smile, wrapping your arms around her, giving her a squeeze.  

“Yeah, you too.”  

Alex sighs, the feel of your arms around her bringing her a comfort like something she’d never felt, the woman giving you a tight squeeze before she reluctantly pulls away.  

“Come on in, I have dinner going, it should be almost done.”  

You follow her inside, mouth agape as you glance around the large living room.

“Damn, you have a nice house.” You mumble and Alex smiles.  

“Sometimes it’s too big for one person, you know?” She shrugs, eyes widening when she realizes what the connotation of that could possibly mean.  

You follow Alex into an equally large kitchen, your eyes wide and mouth still agape as you take in the expansive kitchen.  

“I made pasta, I hope that’s alright.” Alex moves towards the stove, with her back to you, you get a chance to take the woman’s outfit in.  

The woman dressed simply, as you had, wearing a faded Berkley shirt and a pair of jeans.  

Boldly you make your way towards Alex, your hands moving to rest on her hips as you stand behind her, looking down at the meal she’d prepared.

You turn towards her, swallowing hard when you realize how close you are to her.  

“It looks great.” You smile, the forward’s cheeks flushing.  

“Th-Thanks.” She swallows hard and you grin.  

“Anyway I can help?” You ask as you take a step back and Alex shakes her head.  

“No, I got it, go sit down. I invited you over, remember?” She teases and you shrug.  

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help.”  

Alex sighs, nodding to a nearby cabinet.  

“Alright then, get the plates down. “

“You got it.”  

                                                           ***

The two of you eventually end up at the dinner table, Alex’s blue orbs darting to you as you take the first bite, humming loudly.  

“You like it?” She asks nervously and you inhale loudly.  

“I love it, it’s fantastic.”  

Alex wiggles in her chair happily a grin stretching across her face, as she takes her first bite.  

“Write a lot of tickets lately?” Alex asks and you chuckle.  

“A LOT of tickets, it looks like you’re not the only one who doesn’t feed the meter.” You wink, taking another forkful of food into your mouth.  

“That was one time.” She pouts and you smirk.  

“Be careful Morgan, I’ve got my eyes on you.”  

Alex rolls her eyes.  

“Ohh we’ll see.”  

You shake your head with a laugh.  

The two of you make small talk until plates go empty, the forward’s eyes narrowing when you insist on cleaning the empty plates.  

“Al, you made dinner, least I can do is clean the plates.”  

You abruptly turn away, cheeks blood red when you realize you’d called her Al instead of Alex.  

Alex is unable to bite back a grin as you clean the plates off and place them in the dishwasher.  

You turn around, giving the woman a charming grin.  

“I have movies we could watch in the other room, if you want...” Alex shuffles nervously from foot to foot, the woman’s boldness disappearing before your eyes.  

You take a step towards her, your hand resting on her forearm.  

“I’d love to.”  

                                                           ***

It’s not long after that you’re perusing the massive living room, smiling when you see a number of pictures of Alex with the remainder of the USWNT.  

“I have a confession.” You say as you glance over your shoulder at Alex, the woman turning your way with a furrowed brow.  

“What’s that?”  

“I’ve never watched a USWNT game.”  

Your eyes widen when Alex jumps to her feet.  

“Are you serious?” She asks and you shrug.  

“M-Maybe...”  

Alex scoops her iPad up off the coffee table and waves you towards the couch.  

“Get over here, I’m introducing you to the world of professional soccer.”  

You laugh, making your way towards the couch, your eyes widening when Alex literally pulls you down beside her.  

It’s in that moment that you realize how close the two of you are, Alex’s thigh pressed against yours.  

You swallow hard, your cheeks flushing.  

It’s only seconds later that Alex pulls her feet up to the couch, tucking her legs behind her.  

The TV blares to life and you jump, making Alex giggle.  

“Sorry, was a little loud.” She laughs and you pout.  

“Just a little.”

Your focus turns to the TV, missing Alex’s excited little flail at the proximity between the two of you.  

“You might have to walk me through some of the rules.” You grimace and Alex gives you a nudge.  

“Don’t worry, I got you.”  

You grin.  

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”  

                                                           ***

The look on your face is downright comical when you see your first corner kick take place.  

“Wait, what... Is that because it went out of bounds like...” You wave a hand in the air. “Passed the goal?”  

Alex nods.  

“That’s right.”

Alex smiles as you lean towards the TV, watching intently as Megan Rapinoe takes the corner kick.  

It leaves her foot and you stiffen, the ball flying through the air towards goal, hitting the back of the net seconds later, courtesy of Alex’s foot.  

“YEAH!” You yell, jumping from your seat, throwing your fists in the air and Alex giggles.  

“THAT WAS SICK.” You say as you flop down beside her on the couch.  

“You’re so talented.” You smile excitedly and Alex blushes, shrugging.  

Your lips split in a grin.  

“You are!”  

You turn back to the TV, taking a deep breath.  

If you were going to make your move, a move that would tell the woman beside you that you wanted more, now was the time.  

Alex nods to herself.  

This was the moment she was going to make her move.  

“Wait...” You mumble, leaning towards the TV with narrowed eyes.  

“What?”  

You point at the screen.  

“That’s you, right?” You ask and Alex nods.  

You snicker.  

“Hey! What!?” Alex gives you a shove and you snort.  

“Your run.”  

Alex’s cheeks flush, the woman HOPING you wouldn’t notice what others had.  

“What about it?” She asks and you grin.  

“It’s adorable!” Your grin impossibly widening.  

“It is not!” She pouts and you throw your head back with a laugh.  

“It isss! It’s like, like...” You snap your fingers, trying to think of what it is that Alex looks like when running.  

“Don’t say it.” Alex covers her face with her hands and you clap your hands.  

“A foal!” You yell, turning to Alex with a grin.  

“A baby horse...” She mumbles and you nod.  

“Yeah!”  

Alex gives you a playful shove and you snicker.  

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re adorable.”  

Alex throws her head back with a lengthy whine and you shake your head.  

“Okay, okay, I’m done.”  

Alex’s eyes narrow, the woman staring at you for a moment, watching as you try and fail to bite back a smile.  

She rolls her eyes, surprising you when she wiggles closer.  

Your eyes double in size, your laughter caught in your throat when Alex rests her head on your chest.  

“Come on, let’s watch the rest.” Alex says, voice unwavering even though her heart is literally about to burst from its ribbed cage.  

She can’t help but smile when she feels you moving, your arm slipping around her, pulling her closer.  

“Okay.” You whisper, nervously and Alex grins.  

Boldly, she reaches across your lap, her hand resting on top of yours.  

You nibble on your bottom lip as you turn your hand over, your fingers spreading, an invitation, an invitation that Alex accepts, her fingers slipping between your own.  

“Okay?” She asks turning to you and you chuckle, your cheeks dusted pink as you turn her way.  

“More than okay.”  

                                                           ***

Neither of you move after that, unless in fact it’s to move closer, which currently is impossible considering you’re as close as humanly possible.  

Eventually you’re unable to resist and rest your head on top of hers, your eyes fluttering shut.  

This solidified it for you, what was going on between the two of you was more than friendship, something much more, something that frightened you in all honesty, but seeing her, the woman curled into your side, her blue orbs fluttering shut, the woman fighting off sleep, all that fright went away.  

If there was someone that you wanted to be with, it was Alex Morgan.  

Alex yawns again and you smile, glancing at the watch on your wrist.  

“Damn, I didn’t realize it was so late.” You grimace, the woman beside you frowning when she realizes it’s passed midnight.  

You frown, glancing down at the woman on your chest.  

“I guess I better get going.” Your frown deepens as Alex moves off of your chest and moves to her feet.  

“Come on, I’ll walk you out.” She holds a hand out and you smile, taking it with no reluctance.  

The two of you walk begrudgingly to the door, Alex’s fingers intertwined with yours.  

The front door swings open and you sigh, turning to Alex with a tiny smile.  

“I really uhh, enjoyed tonight.” You say shyly, giving Alex’s hand a squeeze.  

Reluctantly, your fingers untangle from hers, though you don’t go far, Alex’s eyes widening when you take a step towards her, ducking down to press a kiss to her forehead.  

“I hope we do it again soon.” You whisper against her skin, the woman wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.  

“Oh, we will.” She turns her head, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek.  

Again, but with much more reluctance, the two of you part, both smiling shyly at one another.  

“Drive home safe Officer Y/L/N.” You shake your head with a grin, throwing her a wave before turning on your heels and heading to your car.  

The second you slip into your car you throw a fist in the air, meanwhile, Alex has made her way inside, the woman doing a happy dance in her living room.

The prospect of meeting again, of furthering the relationship between the two of you was thrilling and neither of you could wait to see where it went.  

[the-midnight-feline]

¤¸¸.•´¯`•¸¸.•..>> So this piece is actually part of the Piliin mo ang Pilipinas Collab event hosted by @lumpiang-toge, you guys should seriously check this out since the works posted there are such good reads ❤️️<<..•.¸¸•´¯`•.¸¸¤

this is the first time i've joined a collab, (ngl i thought i was waaay in over my head lol) i'd like to thank a friend of mine, Dylan, (won't tag his blog just cause, loves you for reading it !) thanks so much for the encouraging words ❤️ and of course Mama Rae (@hq-girl-next-door) for the advice on the banner**❤️

**For the banner I did, I took the image from pinterest, if you guys know who the artist is, please let me know so I could properly give credit to them :)

Tags/TW: Mutual pinning-ish, friends to lovers, fluff to angst, Cheating, swearing (I think theres one or two in there)

(A/N: Please don't get too confused /-\, the italic parts is you recollecting the past, it comes and goes (。♡‿♡。))

WC: 3.8k ;-; didn't know it get that long

Pairings: Tendou Satori x fem!Reader

Summary: It all started with a simple crush, you wouldn't have guessed that it'll be more than that, It was a dream come true to loved and be loved by the person you loved, but not all dreams end good, some end as a nightmare.

“You like the Guess Monster, like THE Guess Monster?!?!” your friends shouted in unison, looking at them frantically as you’re in the gym watching the guys warm up for a practice match and the way they shouted had the sounds of balls hitting the floor just below where your group sat, you willed yourself to look at the who were the people below you guys trying repress the blush you feel creeping on your cheeks, swallowing that lump on your throat as you peaked just a little over the ledge and saw his red hair. Internally cussing out your so-called friends, you tired to act like you calm and collected as he was looking up at the bleachers, maybe trying to guess which one in your group, who was also looking over at whoever heard them, liked him, shaking his head, chuckling toward Ushijima and Semi who was already making their way to the court to get this warm up started.

A single tear began rolling down your cheek as you remembered how it all began, your friends’ sudden outburst in the gym gave you the opportunity to talk to the guy you’ve been crushing on when you first saw him in the opening ceremony just something about him drew you to him and you were adamant on getting to, at the least, know him. Sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, opening the memory box you and your husband made a few months after you started dating.

Semi knew your friend, he actually liked her and from that outburst of theirs at the gym, he 89immediately thought of a way to hit two birds with one stone. “hey, y/f/n, I heard you guys at the bleachers, sooo” scratching he neck out of shyness “which of your friends like our Tendou? Maybe we could setup a date or something?" He really liked your friend and would honestly do anything to get her on a date, she pointed to you, the quiet in of the group, usually the source of rationality and guidance, the one that acts like the mediator of the group. You really always kept to yourself, didn’t really want to attract attention towards yourself. Semi was skeptical at first, you the quiet, shy girl of the class liked that loud ass friend of his? Maybe y/f/n was pulling his leg, she can’t be serious.

A bitter laugh escapes your lips as the memory of your first date comes crashing on you as see the pressed flower from the little hole in the wall café near the school, Semi was the one that found that café and planned every detail of the date.

As you and your friend were walking towards the café Semi told her about, you were itching to just keep hitting your friends back “why the hell did you fucking agree to this?!!” you hissed at your friend, you were practically shooting daggers at her for saying yes on your behalf and you didn’t even know what she agreed to but she told you to get dolled up, silly you, thinking that it’ll be just a girls day out, but peering over her shoulder as your guys walk out of the dorm, you see her texting Semi, thinking maybe it was him asking for notes since they were in the same class. She led you to this small café and you guys sat at a corner booth, making you sit inside by the wall, you really thought nothing of it, until you saw that distinctive red hair bounding towards your booth. Your palms got a tad sweaty, nerves getting the best of you, a million thoughts racing in your mind that you didn’t notice that the Tendou Satori was there taking the seat opposite of you in the booth, the ever infectious smile directed towards you and you alone. Seeing as you and Satori were basically having a silent conversation with just your smiles, Semi and your friend made a discreet exit and left you two be. Little did you know, he often saw you around, he knows you like shounen jump as much as he does since he sees you go to the store he usually goes to, he knows what snacks you liked since he usually goes out at the middle of the night to get some snacks of his own at the convenience store around the corner. He sees you in the library with your nose buried in some book when he follows Semi there just to annoy him. Tendou didn’t tell anybody about the girl he liked from afar, he knew he’d scare you off, no one wanted to date a Monster, or that’s what he thought.

Looking back, that impromptu date was what started the relationship with Satori, a soft sob escapes your lips as tears gently fall on the first picture you have together, he suddenly rang you up and asked you to go to the mall with him. In the picture, he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder while you were hugging his waist tightly, seemingly scared that being with him was a dream you don’t want to wake up from.

Getting out of the shower, you hear your phone ring from under your pillow, confused as to who might that be since it was an unknown number calling you, curious you answered it. “hey y/n! I know it’s kinda out of the blue but, you wanna go to the mall with me?” shock was evident in your body, it was Tendou! Your thoughts was scrambling, you know you didn’t get a chance to give him your number before you guys parted ways on your first meeting since Coach Washijo made Ushijima contact both guys for a weekend practice. You knew the coach was a hot head and would make anymore run 50 laps if they were late and that was a few weeks ago, a worried Tendou called out to you again “uh…y/n? If you have other plans I totally under-“ blinking back to the present “I’d love to go! Lemme get ready and I’ll meet you down” you cut him off midsentence hearing a small chuckle at the other line “don’t make me wait too long ok?” he said in a teasing tone which made you giggle on the line “yes, yes Satori, I’ll hang up so I could get ready ok? See you!” it took every ounce of self-control to not shriek the whole conversation, once he hung up you were practically jumping on your bed out of pure joy, but then you remembered that he’ll be waiting, you quickly snapped out of it and looked through your dresser for a decent outfit for going out with Tendou, you quickly settled with a simple get up of a long sleeved shirt and pants with some sneakers on, you excitedly exited your room, to meet up with Tendou, hoping you haven’t made him wait too long, turning the last corner you see him outside your dorm, almost wearing the same thing as you, even the color of your shoes match, biting your lip to stop a stupid smile from taking over you walk up behind him, gently poking his side, his sudden jump made you giggle as he took in all of you, a smile makes its way on his lips and eyes as he himself lets out a chuckle. “y/n? Are you copying me?” shaking your head, letting a small laugh out “Satori, please you’re the one copying me here” he just shook his out of amusement when he saw the glint of teasing in your eyes before he offended his arm to you like a gentleman would, the small action made you faint blush.

You two spent the day just walking around the mall, just browsing from store to store, having just a blast at all the random comments he makes, the last stop you guys make was the arcade, you guys played all sorts of games, air hockey, tried your luck at a pachinko machine and Tendou even tried the basketball game, which he surprisingly good at that he won a lot of tickets getting you a small rubiks cube, but near the back of the arcade something caught your eye, a purikura, Tendou saw where your eyes went and with a small smile he took your hand and walked towards the machine, and ushered you in the booth, he felt at comfortable around you, he would’ve never guessed that you were a crack head like, random outbursts of ideas and thoughts spouted from you made him laugh as you spent time together. He quickly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him, a flash went off, that was the first shot, with the blush creeping on your cheeks you hid your face under your hair and hugged him another flash went off, that was the second shot, he tipped you head up, making you look at him, his infectious smile directed at you as another flash went off, and the last shot was of him kissing your forehead. You were left speechless after that whole scenario, seemingly in a dazed as he guided you out and grab the prints of the photos. That’s how you guys ended the date, he held your hand in his all the way back to the dorms, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek as you parted ways.

Rummaging further through the memory box, you see all the mementos you both kept from your dates, a few fallen leaves, a couple of pretty rocks, stickers, napkins, flowers, pictures, the cork from the bottle of champagne you drank at your wedding. More tears fell from your eyes as you dug through all the stuff in the box, who knew you both collected a lot of things in just a couple of years. What made you sob so hard was the acceptance letters you both got when you were selected as the few students for the incoming year.

A few months before graduation, you both got accepted into a culinary school in Tokyo, you were ecstatic as this means you and Tendou could get a place together since your parents already gave you two a small amount to get a place near the school so you two could still practice and create new dishes together, it was really no surprise to your friends or the whole volleyball team that you two would get into culinary school, you’ve always had a thing for cooking, you’d often come their practices with some bento boxes for all of the guys so they don’t have to go out and spend for food, on the weekends, the kitchen was his domain he’d let you watch him bake and oftentimes let you help him out. It’s often that the whole group get together during the weekends, you cooking for them while Tendou makes that dessert. For some reason, they got jealous of how your relationship started, it was as if all the pieces just fell into place at the right time, you two together just seemed right like you two were always suppose to be with each other. There’s always been a carefree air around him, it calmed you down so much that it helped you be more open or that’s how you saw it. You were the opposite of him always worrying, always, over thinking, being overly critical of your actions and how you overwhelmed with everything so you turned to anything that’ll help you divert your mind but once he was in your life it just got easier. He voice would immediately calm the voices spewing negative thoughts I had your head.

Looking around your room, you see pictures of you together, your graduation picture, the picture of you guys on the front of the school, the picture of your guys graduating culinary school, a photo of you two at the restaurant where you two both apprenticed and next to that was the candid shot of his proposal there, a mix of joy and hurt shoot through you as you the memory come rushing back to you.

The way he sheepishly confessed that he asked the manager if he could do his proposal there and invite your family and friends for that surprise. “Hey y/n, come with me, a customer just complained about the sauce you made being too salty, I’m not taking blame for that!” an angry chef came shouting at you, shocked and anxiousness dunning through you, you timidly follow behind him, thinking how you could screw up a simple sauce like that, your thoughts were everywhere, but once you stepped outside the kitchen you noted that the dining area was dimmer then usual, but maybe that’s because you’re used to the bright lights of the kitchen, you hear a soft melody playing, it’s one of your favourite songs ‘I Choose' you’ve always related that song to your relationship. On the far wall you see photos of you together, looking around you see familiar faces, his and your parents, your friends, the Shiratorizawa boys were there even the coach came!

The euphoria you felt from having everyone who had been part of your relationship through the ups and downs just had you in tears, your head was fuzzy with the mix of a dozen emotions swirling in you, through a blur of tears you see him kneeling in front of you, he let out a huff of breath to calm his nerves before asking you the question “y/n, my love, my baby, my better half, my paradise. You’ve stuck by my side through my highs and lows, loved me unconditionally, took care of me whenever I got sick, urged me to follow my dreams, guided me into being a better guy, especially with my chocolate making you supported my dreams like no other can, you, you made my world complete, you made me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, you gave me your heart to cherish and protect. You made my life whole” the words flowed out of his mouth so freely, every word making more tears come out of you, every word so heartfelt, with shakey hands we presented you a pear cut yellow emerald ring “My Paradise, would you do me the honor of being my paradise for eternity?” no words could express how happy you were nodding your head, trying to stop happy tears from falling a hushed ‘yes’ slips past you lips as he stands to slip the ring on your left hand, pulling you in for a tight hug, whispering endless I love you’s and thank you in your ears as the people around you cheered for the newly engaged couple.

Biting back another sob, you feel fresh tears streaming down your cheeks as your eyes land on your wedding photo above the bed, he loved you enough to marry you, he was yours and you were his, you can’t help but stare at the framed photo, he had that infectious smile of his that made you fall from him the day you saw him. He has you up in his arms as your arms were wrapped around his neck, pecking a sweet kiss on his cheek. You asked him many times if he’d like to blowup another photo from your wedding, he simply shook his head and wrapped you up in his arms “you’re perfect in any picture of us, but in that one you look like the most perfect human being in existence and I’m just lucky to have you in my life” you basked in his love and affection on those simple words pulling him closer and burying you face on his chest, inhaling his sweet scent “I’m lucky to have you Tori, lucky to be called your wife” placing a chaste kiss on his chest as you look up to him with love-struck eyes. This was it you guys moved countries after your wedding to France since Tendou was offered a job at a famous pâtisserie there, all you wanted was your husband happy, wherever you guys may be.

You never really cared where you two were, as long as you were together, you could get lessons on the French cuisine as Tendou works, that was the plan before you guys flew out. You worked hard to learn the basics, you’d often have Tendou taste test all your creations and you’ll you the same for him since he likes to experiment with different flavor combinations, things were great the first few months of moving cross countries, you enrolled in a cooking classes there to build up your repertoire and after a few weeks of learning a few new techniques you've decided to look around for places you could work at just to keep your body busy again. You've decorated the apartment the way you liked it and how you think Tendou would like it, just adding different odds and ends giving it a familiar vibe. This place was your starting ground.

When you got a job at the nearby bistro, Tendou didn’t really mind it, since he’d often come home a bit later then usual saying something along the lines of making things in the experiment lab with the other chocolatiers at the shop to have something new for the upcoming season, in turn you thought nothing of it since you do work nights after getting a gig in a restaurant in town as well, it also means you could still have time to make his dinner and keep it warm for when he gets home. You two actually got into an argument when you got that gig since Tendou was adamant about keeping you in the apartment after the morning shift at the bistro so you don’t work yourself too hard, he wanted to start thinking about getting a kitten to keep you company when he’s out working but you argued back that you didn’t wanna feel like mooching off of him even though he said it was fine, he loved coming home to a warm meal that you made with love and gets more time to spend with you, but he did cave in after a few bats of your eyelashes.

It was perfect, you both were doing what you were passionate about, you two scheduled your offs near each other’s so one could take care of each other after a long day. But there was this weird feeling creeping in you but you simply don’t know why it was there, you and Tendou always kept communication open since you two do work different shifts and that itself puts a strain in the relationship but you two made it work. You loved him. So you would really sacrifice anything for him, he had have a rough childhood, he was bullied cause he looked different, acted different, but he wasn’t like that for you, he never was, even though he had a wicked sense for things which really surprised you, you can’t even hide a gift from him cause he knew what you’d get him or more likely sense what you’ll give him.

You don’t tell him that you swapped shifts with someone so you technically have a day off so you decided to drop by the pâtisserie where Tendou worked with some home made Pan Bagnat since it was nearing lunch, as you were close to the shop you saw his figure near the window placing new confections on display, but something made you stop, another person, a female chocolatier, was hugging him from behind and not in a friendly way, there was familiarity to it, it looked as if she’s been hugging him for so long, like she’s always hugged him, you didn’t notice that you’ve dropped the basket you were holding on the sidewalk, the glass bottle shattering on impact, the sangria spilling on the pavement, the sandwich you made, making a mess, the fruits you packed rolling in every direction. People around gasped at the scene, some tried to help in picking up the fruits that escaped, your mind in thought again, maybe you just interpreted it wrongly they’re just so so close, like a brother and sister kinda way, since they both work in the shop, you simply jumped to conclusions too fast, those thought completely vanished as the next sight you saw.

She kissed him. SHE KISSED HIM!! Your mind played that in your head like it was a song played on a loop. That was what made your heart break, that was the tipping point, he didn’t push her away, it was the opposite, he pulled her closer, the way he held her mirrored how he would hold you when he came home from work, people around you were asking you things trying to snap you out of your trance but you paid no mind to them, your legs moving on their own.

It was as if you were on autopilot, you got home, your mind racing with so many thoughts, how long had that been going on? Is she why he’d come home later than usual, is she the reason he had woken up earlier to get to work everyday? Did he spend his days off with her when you suddenly get shifts? Walking into your apartment, you didn’t know what to think, how to feel, how to make sense of things more questions come into your mind. Does he bring her here? Did they do anything sexual in the place you called home? What places were safe? Did she please him better than I did? You walked into your bedroom where the memory box laid in the middle of bed. It was your first wedding anniversary, did he really forget? Your anniversary was engraved on your wedding rings with your initials on it.

A scream of agony escaped your lips as everywhere you looked at it was all you and him the very place you thought was the safest of all was not. It's tainted with infidelity, your heart broke even more as you took the box from the bed with shaking hands contemplating on whether to open the box or not, he loved you with every part of him didn’t he? You were enough weren’t you? You made sure he was satisfied right? You gave him all the love you could and even more right? Didn’t he promise you that he’d protect your heart? You're still his paradise right? He loves you right?

Maybe opening the box, and finding something that you both placed in there would make him rethink his choices right? With broken sobs and uneven breathing, your fingers shaking as you pulled the pretty red ribbon that held the lid shut, looking at all the things that you both collected that reminded you both that you loved each other you broke even more. Every one of them held the promise of love, of fidelity, of trust. But now, a part of you is doubting every word that passed his lips, every kiss that landed on your skin made you feel dirty, every I love you's he uttered seems like a lie. You didn’t want to feel that way, you love him with every part of your being, you’re THE Mrs. Satori Tendou, no one else but you had that title, just you, it was only you right? You were his paradise for eternity right? Right?

★──────────★───────────────★─────────★

I hope you guys liked this, I actually really liked working on this one(played my brokenhearts plays it nonstop for it) , but I do have another one coming so...yeah!

Song inspiration :Anong Nangyari Sa Ating Dalawa by Aiza Seguerra

Song used in the proposal I Choose by Alessia Cara

[ktheist]

muses. brother’s best friend / housemate / touchy!yoongi

min yoongi was everything you hated in a man. clingy, sleeps too much and sloth-y. if anyone had eyes, they’d know that you’re a clingy hug away from committing murder on campus.

“hey, pumpkin,” a dead weight snakes around your shoulders and a hand wraps around your wrist, directing the fry you’re about to pop into your mouth to his mouth.

“what the-” venom drips off your words.

“babe, i missed you!” jennie whines, wounding her arm around min yoongi’s friend, who happens to be her boyfriend.

in fact, your world going down a wayward spiral started with jennie’s secretive ‘i’m texting a boy, he’s kinda cute!’ to a full out ‘i’m dating kim taehyung!’ a month later. and with that, came the grueling begging of her trying to get you to agree to go to dinner as a ‘her friends meets his friends’ kind of thing.

you thought to put up with it once but for some reason, after a few hang outs too many, min yoongi has come to calling you a ridiculous nickname and putting his hands on you whenever he sees you.

“they’re so in love, aren’t they?” the boy next to you snickers while his free hand snakes down to your thigh.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

the whine that slips out of his mouth doesn’t bring you satisfaction even if you’re the one who opt for pinching his hand with all your might.

he looks at you, eyes looking like the midnight lake, sparkling with moonlight, “my hand slipped. did you have to pinch me that hard?”

“oh hey, lisa,” hoseok greets your blonde haired, doll-like friend, “we’re having a match with xxx university, you wanna join?”

at the mention of the long standing rival of your uni, lisa’s delicate features break into that of an angel of death, “the fuck? they have the nerve to fuck with us? that-”

“oh wow, she’s fired up, isn’t she?” yoongi chuckles, his breath fanning your cheek.

you still your hand from coming up to fan your face. why is it hot all of a sudden?

“yeah, her ex-best friend goes there and they’ve been competing against each other in dance ever since,” you say plainly, not realizing it’d spark a different kind of fire.

a loud smack echoes in the air as you look at the hand on the table and up at the owner of said hands, “we were never friends! let alone best friends!”

“o-oh yeah, my bad, you and your non-best friend’s been trying to take each other down since you both left high school,” you lean backwards to widen the distance between her hand and your face but consequentially, you end up leaning into min yoongi who gladly welcomes you into his arms, locking his hands together over your chest and trapping you in a hug.

“so, you guys gonna practice before the match?” yoongi’s ask is what makes her snap her head at the man happily munching on her meal after she had her attention averted to a certain non-best friend.

“hobi, we’re gonna practice till our limbs feel like falling off,” and with that, she drags the man away, his whines and begging to finish the (her) food falling on deaf ears.

for the briefest moment, things seem to have calmed down. that is, until you turn your head to the smiley boy clinging onto you like a koala.

“what? i saved you from lisa’s wrath.” he states, as if sensing your own wrath coming to surface if he doesn’t-

“get off me,” you order, glaring daggers at the boy.

“make me,” he smirks, the gummy smile now gone and for some reason, your heart’s beating too fast than your body can handle.

“seriously, what’s wrong with you? jimin’s right there, why can’t you go and cling onto him? at least he’s your friend. i barely even know you,” you sigh, feeling his arms loosening around you yet your chest is the one clenching as he drops his gaze.

“___, you’re breaking my heart,” he bumps his head to yours, those dark brown eyes glinting with a sort of deviousness that you know will do you no good if you hang around him any longer, “especially when we’ve kn-”

“my class is starting in ten.”

he doesn’t stop you when you stand up, his arms slipping away from your body like withered vines on stone wall.

that’s the last you see of min yoongi. well, until you’re walking out of the ecology club, fist smacking against that sore spot on your shoulder as you trail behind your club mates. the meeting about the outdoor event to raise awareness on carbon print ended a little later than you thought it would and by the end of it, everyone’s like a walking corpse.

“i thought you’d never come out,” a voice husks from behind you as your body freezes and your heart jumps to your throat.

“what the fuck, min yoongi?” you glare at the gummy smiley boy who doesn’t seem to bear an ounce of guilt for causing your soul to astral project into oblivion.

“did i scare you?” he chuckles, “don’t worry, johnny won’t get you as long as i’m here.”

“johnny?” you feel your eyebrows coming together in annoyance rather than confusion.

“you know, the ghost that’s living in the ecology club room,” he raises his eyebrows twice as if insinuating something.

you scoff.

“oh yoongi, you’re been waiting for ___?” jisoo waves from a few steps ahead, “you guys going back together?”

“no- wait-” you’re about to run after your friends when an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you to a warm body.

“yeah, drive safe guys!” the boy waves, smiling that stupid smile until the car’s out of sight.

placing one hand on his chest, you push him away from you until you’re at least three feet apart, “seriously, why’d you have to wait for me? i could’ve gone home on my own.”

“what do you mean why? because i wanted to see you sooner,” he grins, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“w-what the hell,” you fumble with your words, turning away as your cheeks flare up with warmth, “let’s just go,” you say, holding onto yoongi’s pinky finger and dragging him with you.

you get home before 10 o’clock despite yoongi’s whining to take the longer route home along the river.

“oh, you’re back? whew, i was worried there for a sec,” seokjin’s voice rings throughout the house as he greets you from his room, “but i shouldn’t be since yoongi’s with you. it’s lucky you guys got into the same uni.”

“i could’ve gone home with my friends,” you say almost sulkily, glaring at the boy who’s walking towards his own room as if he’s ready to black out as soon as his head hits the pillow.

“yoongi, you’re not gonna have dinner?” seokjin asks.

“nah, i’ll sleep first.” and with that, the door of the room across from your brother’s clicks shut.

“he really needs to get his sleep schedule fixed,” the older man shakes his head whilst you place the plate of fried rice seokjin made into the microwave.

“let him be, he’s a grown man, he can take care of himself. you cooking for him is more than-” you can’t even finish your sentence when seokjin’s fast padded footsteps crosses the hallway and to the kitchen. hands shaking your body more than an earthquake could.

 “___, do you... do you really see yoongi as a man? are you guys dating?!” seokjin’s concerned gaze bores into yours, offering you no escape unless you answer him.

“no? i mean, he’s grown - we all grew up, seokjin, we’re in uni,” you say in a matter of factly. every once in awhile, seokjin gets a wake up call that-

“oh thank god,” he envelops you into a bear hug, “i thought my baby sister was interested in my best friend.”

well, guess that wake up call just got pushed back.

you suppose you get where seokjin’s coming from. just three little kids with mismatched ages growing up together in the same neighborhood. you climb trees together, scrape your knees falling off the swings and treat each other to health.

but it was seokjin who introduced you to yoongi. back then, whoever knew whoever first, got the first friend privilege. it was just some dumb rules the kids from the neighborhood came up with. and everyone wanted to be friends with min yoongi who had the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest smile. but seokjin always prided himself to be yoongi’s best friends and the latter never denied it. in a way, the two of them had a sort of bond that nobody could touch, let alone break.

something like brothers for life kind of thing.

because of that, min yoongi had always been your brother’s best friend. 

“___, you’re not asleep yet?” a voice rings from behind you where the hallway to your bedrooms lie.

“i’ve got some club stuff to settle,” you say, not away from your laptop as you sit on the spot between the couch and coffee table. an energy drink a few inches away.

“you’re always so busy,” tresses of soft hair tickles your cheek as a head leans on your shoulder, the warmth of another body making you all warm inside.

you sigh, a smile playing on your lips. at times like this, when min yoongi’s barely awake - there’s no way you can push him away, is there?

“you’re the one that has too much free time on your hand,” you say, shaking your head.

the sound of the tapping keyboard fills the otherwise silent room. you thought he’d fallen asleep with his head on your shoulder.

“...you...” he murmurs under his breath, “...i like you.”

your cheeks heat up, body instinctively recoiling from the body that’s leaned up against you as if - as if you’re just realizing that min yoongi is, in every sense of nature, a man.

a shirtless man, at that.

it wasn’t unusual to see him and your brother walking around shirtless since there’s not much to see. but you’ve always known yoongi’s not half bad, he’s got some underlying abs from those days of playing basketball in high school and he’s in the basketball team in uni.

so why are you getting all embarrassed seeing a shirtless min yoongi stare up at you like he’s waiting for you to say something that will make him or break him - now?

x

note. a little skit from my fried brain. hope yall enjoyed!

[kikis-writing-world]

Flags and Labels

Part of Writer Wednesday by @flightlessangelwings​ & @autumnleaves1991-blog

Pairing: Modern AU, pan!Din Djarin x Bi!Reader (GN, no pronouns, no Y/N)

Word Count: >2k

Rating/Warnings: Mentions of a religious upbringing and trauma from that past. Essentially Din grew up in “The Children of the Watch” and was very sheltered, but is now exploring the real world. If I’m missing anything else I should tag in this vein, please let me know.

pride  /  “Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

You smiled brightly at Din as he gazed around, a look of wonder on his face. The street was alive with colour. Walls, windows, fences, parking meters: Everywhere you looked were multicoloured flags of every kind, representing the various people taking to the streets to celebrate their freedom to be who they are. The people themselves in the streets were just as colourful. They sported flags and bright colours and all kinds of eccentric accessories, showcasing who they’re proud to be. The joy in the air was palpable, contagious even.

You had been friends with Din for nearly two years now, the two of you having met at the local library. He always took out such interesting books on a variety of subjects, both fiction and non-fiction, and shortly after becoming acquainted with him you found out why. He had grown up in a very strict religious sect - some would go so far to describe them as a cult - and had been sheltered from many things until his early adulthood. When he became comfortable with you, he had just as many questions for you about the “real world” as you had about his past.

One topic that had come up as you two talked about Din’s past was his sexuality. He had known from a young age that something was different. His religion had been strict about heterosexual couples being the only way, shunning all other types of love. You happily helped him find books and resources he could look into, to further explore his feelings. You also opened up, sharing your own personal journey and experiences as you came to terms with your bisexuality.

When you suggested taking Din to this year’s pride, he was both nervous and excited. He still wasn’t a fan of large crowds, a side effect of his upbringing. He also didn’t know what to expect when he got there. With some research and reassurance from you that you wouldn’t leave his side, he agreed. You were so glad he did now that you were watching him take it all in. 

“All these people…” Din trailed off, losing his voice.

“They all support love.” You finished the thought. “Regardless of labels, they all just wanna be who they are, love who they want. There’s always some protesters, but whatever, don’t pay them any mind. We outnumber them.” You chuckled.

“I had no idea this was out here, all this time.” He breathed.

You had to bite your lip to keep your own emotions in check. The look of awe, the unshed tears in his eyes. You felt drawn to the sweet, quiet man like a moth to a flame. You’d been falling for him for months, the embers of your crush only stoked when he opened up about his sexuality and yes, you were in his spectrum. The glimmer of hope that he might be attracted to you dangled in front of you like a feathered cat toy… but you just couldn’t risk it. He had opened up to you, come to you for guidance and a shoulder to cry on. You felt guilty taking that away from him if you pushed that line too far. You’d crush on him silently while remaining a pillar of support.

“C’mon,” you wrapped your hand around his forearm - a safer place than taking his hand or feeling the enticing muscle hidden under the sleeve of his t-shirt - “let’s dive in.”

You watched Din carefully as you two walked the streets and took in all the sights. You wanted to know if he was getting overwhelmed or uncomfortable, but he took it all in stride. He had lots of questions about the performing drag queens, and not all that you could answer yourself. You laughed heartily at the look on his face when one queen draped her boa over his shoulders with a shimmy. 

There were people doing tarot readings, which while he seemed intrigued about, didn’t want to miss anything else by waiting in the long line. You shared a rainbow coloured ice cream sundae which turned your tongue different colours as you went, both of you laughing as you stuck your tongue out periodically - you forced yourself not to think about how the flavors would taste on his tongue every time it came out a different colour.

You made a point to stop at some information booths for local groups, picking up flyers for Din to look over later. Sports teams, choirs, friendship/support groups; Din was absolutely shocked to find there were arms of religion that not only accepted but supported LGBTQ+ rights. You knew he was struggling with reconciling his religious teachings with the “real world” and thought maybe these groups might be able to help navigate it more than you could with your limited experience.

A face painting booth caught your eye and you dragged Din over, not that he was putting up much of a fight. There were a few people doing the face painting, some clearly artists who would do a full-face of whatever you requested, but also there were some that were simply painting pride flags on cheeks for the price of a donation to a local queer youth shelter.

You and Din looked over the board they had set up of different flags, all that you had seen throughout the day as you explored.

Dropping some money into the bucket, you sat on the stool and asked for a bisexuality flag. Din stood by and watched as the artist painted. You kept quiet, not wanting to cause them to mess up.

“Well? What do you think?” You prompted when they were done.

“It looks nice.” Din nodded.

“Did you want one too?” The artist asked, looking Din’s way.

You looked over to Din, smiling as you waited for him to answer. As comfortable as he’d grown in your time walking around and meeting new people, you didn’t know if he was ready to wear anything pride related. It was his call, but you looked as encouraging as you could.

“Um, can I get this one?” He asked, pointing at the Pansexuality flag. Your heart soared for him. It wasn’t exactly a declaration of finding the right label, but feeling comfortable enough to display the flag on his cheek was definitely progress.

“Of course!” They answered, gesturing for Din to sit in the stool as they got the right colours ready. As he sat, you gave his shoulder a squeeze. He looked up at you with a soft smile, eyes shining with excitement.

“Have you ever had your face painted before?” You questioned, realizing that it probably wasn’t the kind of thing he’d grown up with.

“I don’t think so.” He shrugged.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I had a virgin.” The artist teased with a wink, making you laugh as Din blushed bright red. You ran your hand across his shoulders to soothe him through the embarrassment, although all it did was make your own face flush as you felt the firm muscles twitch under his shirt.

“All done!” It took the artist only a few moments to swipe the three colours evenly along his cheek. They lifted a handheld mirror so Din could see for himself. He nodded his approval with a quiet thanks, adding some more money into the collection bucket.

“C’mere, let’s get into the sun for a picture!” You suggested as you skipped ahead of him. He followed, grinning at your excitement as you found the perfect spot and opened up your camera.

He leaned over you, head nearly resting on your shoulder as you started snapping selfies. Happy ones, goofy ones, serious ones. Your thumb automatically tapped every few seconds as the two of you made different faces. When Din pressed his lips to your cheek, the picture captured every ounce of surprise you felt.

“Thanks for bringing me here.” Din smiled as you tucked your phone away, trying to hide your burning face.

“Y-yeah. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You stuttered, picking at some non-existent lint on your shirt.

“Did I do something wrong?” The flatness in Din’s voice made your head shoot up. He was frowning, the excitement of the day all but vanished from his expression.

“No. W-W-Why… Why would you think that?” You shook your head, internally cursing yourself for the reaction you had to a simple, friendly kiss.

“I kissed you, and you…” He trailed off, gesturing at you in lieu of verbalizing his thoughts. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, Din. Don’t apologize-”

“I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now-”

The two of you began speaking at once, only to both pause when you realized the other was talking.

“Trying to tell me what?” You asked, feeling that familiar heat rising up your neck into your cheeks.

“I… I like you… more than just friends…” Din admitted, looking down and kicking at a rock on the ground. “I guess today just… made me feel… brave.”

“Really?” You squeaked, voice malfunctioning as you fought to keep your body under control. You wanted to jump, sing, cartwheel, hell you would fly if you had the ability.

“You don’t have to like me back. I don’t want it to change anything.” Din continued, still focussed on the rock.

You tucked your hand under his chin, forcing him to look up and see with his own eyes how you felt about his confession. His eyes widened a fraction when he took in the wide smile you wore ear to ear.

“I definitely like you back.” You confirmed. “And you are one of the bravest people I know.”

A sigh of relief gave way to a matching smile on Din’s face, the two of you smiling at each other widely, neither sure what to say next.

“Din?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

The only regret the two of you held from your first real kiss was the smudged flags on your cheeks.

Tagging @wickedfrsgrl​ @din-damn-djarin​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @kesskirata​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @vonschweetz​ @insideafictionaluniverse​ @driedgreentomatoes​ @computeringturtle​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​

[sokkas-honour]

number 16 w zuzu??

detention - zuko x reader

pairing: zuko x reader

wc: 1.5k with lyrics

notes/warnings: this takes place with s1 zuko so it won’t be too happy. also the relationship isn’t exactly healthy because the song just doesn’t give me space for that. i also switch between talking about zuko and y/n so be warned.

somewhat of a part two

atla taglist: @missmorosis @draqondance @biqherosix

im not a bad guy, so don't treat me bad if im feeling sad, alright?

“y/n!” the banished prince yelled as he violently slammed your door open in the early hours of the morning. you groaned and turned in your bed so your back was facing him, you didn’t want to deal with zuko right now.

“y/n, you’re late. you’re late by thirty minutes.” he stated rather harshly and crossed his arms as he stood his ground by your door, observing you trying to pretend not to hear him.

annoyed, he started to make his way towards you to rip the covers off of your body stopped when he saw the tears stains on your cheek. his hands froze right above the cover, unsure what to do.

you could feel his presence so you reluctantly pushed the covers off of you, causing the ex prince to move back in order not to be slapped by it. you turned to face him and saw the slightest bit of concern etched into his face, you rose your eyebrow in confusion.

“why are you looking at me as if i’ve just come back from the worst fight of my life.” you questioned, your morning voice coming out as slightly raspy, though not as much as zuko’s. you were one of the only people that could talk to zuko however you wanted.

the firelord had ordered you about two years ago to serve as some sort of bodyguard to the banished prince. you had been ripped away from your people and family at a young age, one of the last waterbenders of the southern water tribe. he had decided to spare your life and in turn, you had to serve the young fire nation royalty. between the two siblings, zuko was the kindest to you and often offered to spar with you meaning your water bending contained many firenation forms.

when he’d been burned by his father and sent to find the avatar, you had been assigned to only him. you served as some sort of normality to the young firebender, a way to try and keep him sane. zuko respected you and treated you as a friend but his constant mood swings around you made him extremely unpredictable. nonetheless, he was the only friend you’d ever known and cared immensely for him.

“were you crying?” he spoke up after a short silence had fallen in between the both of you.

“no, why?”

“then why are there tear stains on your cheeks.” he persisted, using his voice that he usually reserved for the guards when they annoyed him.

you sighed, you had forgotten how you’d felt down last night and your mind immediately went to your parents. you still had memories of them but as you grew, they slowly faded more and more which terrified you. the whole fiasco making you fall asleep crying long after midnight.

“forget it, it’s not important. i was just feeling down.” you confessed, sitting up in your bed.

“good because you’re getting extra cleaning duties for missing our sparring station.” any ounce of friendliness that he’d shown a minute ago vanished and you were left with the zuko that the entire crew knew, the angsty, ungrateful and hot headed prince.

please don't be mad if i don't smile back, alright? if i fuck up my words, don't think im absurd, alright?

he left your room and made his way towards the front of the boat, leaving you dumbfounded and confused to his 180 towards you.

zuko never knew how to express his emotion to begin with but when it came to you, he was clueless on how to act. you made him feel things that he wasn’t use to, you constantly tried to make him feel loved, something that he’d only received from his mother and it confused him. he hated that he’d caught feelings for his friend and the only way he knew how to act was aggressiveness. so, whenever you showed respect he gave it to you back but whenever you showed him affection, you only received aggressiveness.

he was always terrified of you waking one day and deciding to be furious at his lack of emotional connection with you, and you had every right to do that, frankly he was surprised you still hadn’t cracked. every morning, you’d greet him with the biggest smile on the deck of the boat to start your sparring session, and practically every morning, you were met with a grumble and an emotionless face.

he truly had no idea how to deal with your kindness and patience, he knew that if he was in your place, he would’ve yelled at himself much earlier. zuko just didn’t deserve you for the way he treated you, and he completely knew that but a part of him tried his hardest to show some sort of emotion when it was just the two of you.

those moments were limited but, on those occasions, you’d watch him try and put his feelings into word, he always failed miserably which always earned him an encouraging smile from you.

alright? im physically exhausted

you dragged yourself out of bed, that wasn’t the first night you’d cried yourself to sleep. being stuck with zuko was fine to extent, you constantly tried to show him only kindness, hoping that one day he’d give it back you all the time and not just on isolated occasions.

the constant kindness on top of your recent longing for your parents and your people completely drained you for any energy.

you sighed and went to close the door as soon as zuko left and got ready for the day, throwing on a random red tunic. you took a quick look in your mirror to make sure you didn’t look like a complete mess and you completely saw why zuko’s intial reaction to seeing you was concern, you looked terrible. your hair was dishevelled, your cheeks were red and had a faint tear trail, your eyes were puffy and your eye bags were prominent, meaning anyone could see your lack of sleep in the last couple of days.

the lack of care definitely told you how tired you were but your treasured the fact that you weren’t on zuko’s bad side, you loved your moments together when he’d open up. you knew that if you didn’t follow his orders, which he frankly didn’t give you often, you could easily loose anything you’d built up.

tired of my knuckles beating, im chewing gum to pass this time of sadness

you sat down with the rest of the guards and munched down on your breakfast of rice. munched down is an exaggeration, you simply picked at it. none of them questioned it, you weren’t close to any of them and they simply thought you were brave and foolish to befriend the prince, to deal with his obnoxious behaviour. they were right in their own way.

cant you see it? you're too busy seeking selfish wishes, don't care how im feeling

at the end of the day that’d you spent practically by yourself, you knocked on zuko’s chamber, hoping you could talk to him. he’d built his own habit of coming to yours whenever he’d have a problem or something that troubled him so you assumed you had the right to do the same.

“who is it?” his harsh raspy voice practically yelled from behind the door.

“it’s y/n.” you heard footsteps on the other side approaching the door and he opened it. you smiled slightly as you saw the book that was abandonned on his bed.

“i was wondering if i could talk to you?” you sheepishly asked, raising your hand to scratch the back of your neck. he responded with a nod and moved out of the way so that you could step in. you made your way to his bed and sat on his, waiting for him to join you.

he made his way next you and looked at you expectingly, waiting for you to start telling him what was on your mind.

“i guess you deserve an explanation as to why i’ve been like this in the last couple of days.” you started but he soon interrupted you.

“it’s fine. you can resume aiding me in catching the avatar tomorrow, i’m sure you’ll be fine.” his interruption shocked you, it was just, completely out of place and downright rude.

“you know what zuko.” your usually kind gaze turned harsh as you stood up. “you’re so fucking selfish, i’ve let you come to me whenever you want to tell me about your problems. god forbid you do the same. you could care less about how i’m feeling! you’re so blind and oblivious to how much that hurts! it hurts to care about someone who doesn’t even seem to give an ounce of care about how you feel!”

your voice had risen to the point that the guards outside of his room probably heard you accuse him. annoyed by his selfish actions that hurt you more than you’d care to say, you quickly left his chamber wanting to be alone.

zuko looked at you leave and cursed himself, you were the kindest person and he’d probably hurt you more than he could fathom. god was he stupid.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Sam Winchester: Disney

*Credit to gif owner*

Pairing: Sam W. x Reader

Pov: Sams

Warnings: fluffy!Sam, The reader having an addiction to Disney movies, movie night, Sam quoting Disney movies, ( I think it's like one word) swearing, quick interaction with Dean.

Summary: Movie night rolls around and this time it's just Sam and Y/n. Letting Y/n choose pretty much just turns into them watching Disney movies. And maybe Sam knows a few quotes from each movie.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is for band--pyschos 1.5 followers Bingo Challenge. I'm so excited o be a part of this writing challenge.

Square- Movie Quote

Masterlist

Sams Masterlist

Taglist: @band--psycho @sweetdetectivequeen

If you keep sliding on the floor with those damn socks on, you're going to land on your ass, Y/n" I finally said after watching her pass by the library at least ten times within five minutes.

Y/n huffed and crossed her arms dramatically, but stopped. Standing there for a few moments, before once she thought that I wasn't paying attention she continued.

"Shit" I heard Y/n in a rather loud voice. So, I got up from my library seat, closing the lore book I was reading through. "Did you fall?" I asked as I rounded the corner.

Seeing Y/n sitting on her ass. She looked up at me, doing the thing I taught her. "No, No puppy eyes. I told you. I told you that you were going to fall on your ass." I said putting my hand out.

In moments like this, I noticed how much bigger my hand was compared to Y/n. She gripped my hand and I lifted her up from the floor. "Hey, you two, y'all okay?" Dean asked passing by the two of us in the hallway.

I knew he was going out; it was Saturday night and we were home at the bunker. "Yeah, we're fine. I was just sliding on the floor with my socks." Y/n said patting down her sweatshirt that used to be mine.

"That must have been the 'oh shit' I heard. We should totally do that, I'm heading out." Dean said. "Don't have too much fun," I said interlocking Y/n and I's fingers together.

Dean skipped up the bunker stairs and was gone within minutes.

"Babe, can we do something fun?" Y/n asked dragging me into the kitchen. I let her drag me into the kitchen before answering her question.

"I guess so since you've dragged me into the kitchen," I said, not letting go of Y/ns soft and small hands clasped around mine. "Well since we are in the kitchen, can we get some snacks together?" She asked.

Y/n had the tendency to always ask before doing anything around the bunker. It sometimes made me feel as if she was my student in school, and I was her jailer of a teacher.

"Y/n, honey you don't have to ask me every time you want to do something. This is your home, your home to do as you please, get snacks as you please. You aren't a student here and I am most defiantly not your teacher." I said, wrapping Y/n in a hug from behind.

"I know, but still I don't like the idea of just doing without asking," Y/n said leaning her head back up against my shoulder. We stood like this for a while, in the presence of each other was nice, it was always nice to just be together.

Nothing trying to get in the way, no Dean trying to tease me, no monster ruining dates, anniversary, or having to hunt monster worried about each other safety.

This was the most normal we could get. The most normal we would ever have. "So what are the snacks for?" I asked Y/n as she started to release herself from the embrace we had.

"I thought that maybe we could have a movie night since Dean is out," Y/n said rummaging through the cabinets and through the fridge. Her shorter stature giving her a problem as she tried to reach things on the higher shelves.

"Do you want some help? Also, what are you looking for?" I asked coming closer to hear what she had to say. "MMMH," She said, her face pensive and thoughtful about what she was going to say.

"I was trying to grab some popcorn for me, and some more healthy choices for you, but as you can see, I've failed miserably." Y/n said shrugging her shoulders.

Taking a moment to get an idea of the hand situation at hand. “You haven’t failed, and if I’m honest with you dear, I'm in the mood to snack on junk food and be lazy.” I spoke. Grabbing junk like food off of the shelves and from the fridge.

I’m rather glad that just a few days ago we needed to go shopping because Dean tends to pick up the junky food and tends to forget he has such an abundance at the bunker. Throwing a pint of ice cream on to the kitchen island, gently placing a twelve-ounce bottle of soda-pop, Y/n had already put out the over flow of candy that we had, so all that was left was really just making the popcorn.

“Movie night is going to be hella fun!” Y/n said dancing around the kitchen, as I looked for a clean useable big bowl for the popcorn. I think she noticed my struggle because she stopped dancing and come over to me. Taking the popcorn out of my hands.

“Just nuke the popcorn’ she said placing the popcorn bag into the microwave and pressing popcorn, ‘see now you can go look for your bowl” She said finishing her sentence and backing away to let me continue trying to look for a bowl.

Once that entire process was done, we migrated towards the Dean cave which had just turned into a living room slash movie room at this point. Not that either one of us would ever tell Dean that what it’s used for now.

We ended up having to make multiple trips back to the kitchen since we honestly did have a shit ton of food. But once we finally had all our food and snacks placed out in front of us, we sat down, well it was more like we sank down into the couch.

Dean was a rather lazy person and didn’t like to spend money which never made much sense to me seeing as we used fake credit cards, or the very bold answer which was credit fraud. We could have totally gone out and bought a brand-new couch, but instead Dean just saw this one and decided on the side of the road that he had to have it.

So, like I said we almost every time sink into the couch.

“Since it was your idea for a movie night, I’m giving you the honors of picking the first movie we watch!” I said handing her the remote that I had just fished form between the seat moments ago.

“Aww, you’re so sweet baby.” Y/n said kissing my cheek before she went on and searched through Netflix. After only a short time, I heard a frustrated groan come from Y/n. After being with Y/n for as long as I have, I’ve noticed different groans, and huffs have completely different meanings.

The groan thought meant that she was about to give up, frustration taking over her mind and her body. “Honey, is everything okay?” I asked deciding best to intervene before the remote ended up stuck in the TV screen. My girl has one hell of a throw.

“No nothing is fine!” She said huffing rather louder. “Give me the remote and tell me what you want to find.” I suggested. Plopping the remote into my lap Y/n crossed her arms and leaned in to the back of the couch.

“Baby you gotta tell me what I’m looking for, or should I already know?” I asked. I feel like I was poking a bear, or maybe a balloon just waiting her to explode. But she never did, I could hear her taking a deep breath in and then exhaling. “You know me enough to know that you let me choose, so Disney movies and I’m sorry for getting so upset so quickly.” Y/n said fidgeting with her finger nails.

“It’s okay love. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Now let’s see about watching some Disney movies.” I spoke.

I ended up having to go to Disney plus which held all of Disney's movies. “I’m figuring you want to watch their princess collection first, right?” I said, I received a hum in response.

Watching the movies in order for Y/n was the most important thing, so we started off with Snow white and the seven dwarfs. Watching through Y/n sang almost every song, and would sometimes nudge me to join in. I’d deny and she give me her doe eyes and I'd join regardless. Once the movie was over, I clicked around trying to find the next movie.

“Lips red as the rose, Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow.” I repeated as I looked around for the movie CInderella. I was interrupted before being able to click on the movie title. “Hey, that’s the phrase that the mirror says the queen. How do you remember that?” Y/n asked.

I honestly think she was totally surprised. “Because in a way it reminds me of you.” I said winking and clicked on the title of the movie. Cinderella played through, I had to pause a few times letting Y/n tell me when she was a young girl how much she wanted to be a princess but not just any princess she wanted to be Cinderella, and how her parents had bought her Cinderella dresses and she wear the plastic glass slippers and clink around her house.

Somethings you just always forget. Somethings like that are worth forgetting though, just so she can retell the same story and have the same cute and exciting look on her face. That was why I was okay with sitting down and watching Disney movies with her, because they made her so extremely happy and that’s all I needed to be happy.

We watched through that movies. “On the stoke of twelve, the spell will be broken, and everything will be as it was before.” I spoke. “Who said it though?” Y/n said questioning me. “Cinderellas fairy godmother!” I spoke.

I hadn’t realized how much this was now turning in to a game between Y/n and I. The next movie in our now marathon was sleepy beauty, so far, I had quoted every movie at the end.

So, this time Y/n was ready for it, “Now father, you’re living in the past, this is the 14th century.” I said a little laughed came out. “Oh, come on, there are so many better ones to choose from!” Y/n said dramatic.

“Yeah, like which ones? "I said, knowing Y/n knew a lot more about Disney movies then I did. “I’m awfully sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, Make it pink, Oh dear, what an awkward situation. And that to name a few.” Y/n said totally sassy me, but whatever. This was her guilty pleasure. There was no reason to tease her about it.

We watched through ariel, I only stopped the movie once since Y/n said she need a peep break and I most defiantly needed a good stretch. When she came back, I said “Don’t underestimate the importance of body language!” I said as I shimmied my hands down my sides and winked at her as Y/n sat down on to the couch.

“Haha, very funny. Come on now. Sit with me.” She said giving me grabby hands. I sat down and we continued our watch through, unfortunately we only made it another two movies seeing as Y/n had fallen asleep with her head in my lap and a blanket covering the rest of her body.

Beauty and the Beast was the second to last movie we watched before Y/n fell asleep, she had cuddled closer and reminded me that she sometimes thought of this movie when she saw us together. “Take it with you so you’ll always have a way to look back... and remember me”

She cuddled in closer as I quoted that and looked for the next movie. Yawning I asked Y/n “Do you want to stop? We can always pick up tomorrow.” I said She shook her head and said “Please continue.”

Looking for the next movie, I found that was a musical now about the movie, Aladdin was the next movie, this was an upbeat movie. I remember vaguely seeing this as a young boy, something that Dean had taken me to do, while he sat in the back making out with whatever girl he was with at that point.

“Y/n, I do love you, but I gotta stop pretending to be something I’m not.” I said kissing Y/n temple and shutting off the tv, and the lights before grabbing the underneath of Y/n knees and carrying her to bed.

Compelted on: 04/15/2021

[imagine-the-fanfics]

Seized

Characters: Goro Majima x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, involuntary imprisonment, implied attempted rape

Inspiration: Request by Anon – “Uhh can I get a fic where the reader gets kidnapped by Majima if you'd be fine w/ it? 👉👈”

A/n: Okay, so this got… A little intense. I was able to water it down a lot, but please look over the warnings and take them seriously. Hope you enjoy it none the less, Nonny. Also. My autocorrect keeps trying to change “eye” to “eyes” and I’m sorry if I miss some of those. This fic is dark (much less so now than it was originally) and I am sorry. I don’t support anything in this fic and it is not meant to glamorize.

When you came to, your head was pounding. You tried to yawn, but you couldn’t seem to open your mouth. You tried to see what was stopping you, but you couldn’t move your hands. Your eyes opened, but you couldn’t see. You started to whimper, struggling to get out of your bindings.

“Oh good, yer awake. Fuckin’ finally,” a man’s voice said.

A chill ran down your spine as you realized the position you were in. The hood you didn’t know was on your head was removed, and you found yourself face to face with a man you didn’t know. The sudden light was blinding, and you struggled to keep your eyes open from the sudden light.

“Oh, what the hell,” the man grumbled. “I told ‘em none of this tape on the mouth shit.” He reached over, working a bit off to grab. “This is gonna hurt, darlin’,” he said before immediately ripping off the duct tape, causing you to let out a loud but short shout from pain. “Exactly why I told ‘em not to fuck with that shit,” he sighed, crouching down so the two of you were eye-level. “How are ya? Ya feelin’ okay?” His tone was softer, more concerned, as if he actually cared about you.

“I—”

“Juuuust kiddin’,” he said before standing up. “I don’t give two shits. Yer pops probably does, though.” He looked down at you and you looked up at him, speechless. “Oh, ya didn’t know? Yer dad’s neck deep in with the yakuza, sweetheart. Owes a lot of money to a lot of people, including me.

“I thought, ‘Maybe if I take his kid he’ll know I mean business,’ but so far that ain’t been the case. ‘Course, ya ain’t been here too long, maybe he just needs some time.” His eye raked your body, taking in every ounce of what you had to offer. He’d be lying If he said he wasn’t attracted. You were so quiet that he was a little surprised.

Truth was, you were embarrassed. You hadn’t worn these pajamas expecting to get kidnapped, but who ever expects to get kidnapped? You were in maroon short shorts, a sports bra, and a white tank-top. Panties, too, of course, but nothing that was fun or exciting just plain and black, matching the sports bra.

Memories of getting here were nonexistent. The last thing you remembered was laying down in bed to sleep. You, again, tried to move your hand to your pounding head and found it couldn’t move. That was when you started to assess your surroundings.

The man continued to watch you; being under his gaze made you feel like a small rabbit about to be devoured by a mad dog. You felt small, afraid. The look in his eye was enough to chill your soul. “Ya realizin’ the mess yer in now?” The man asked, pulling up a chair you hadn’t noticed and sitting in it. You were starting to panic as you looked around the room. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt ya.” You were tied to a chair, arms bound behind you and legs bound to the respective legs of the chair you were in. Another rope was tied around your chest, just under your breasts. You struggled a little bit.

“Well, not yet at least,” the man sighed. “Yer just… So delicious to look at.” The man’s eye raked your body again, stopping at your chest for a moment before lowering, pausing again and then meeting your gaze again. “I could eat ya right up,” he grinned wickedly at you.

“Maybe I will,” he said, still grinning.

You tried to meld with the chair, hoping to get as far away from him as possible, but that wasn’t possible.

“But not yet,” he said, sounding too happy, clapping his hands once as he stood up. “Let’s get ya some water. Gotta stay hydrated, after all.”

You blinked, watching this enigma of a man as he walked out of the room you were being held in. You took the moment too look around and fully take in your surroundings. There was a bed, a hook in the ceiling, and a chain on the ground with the far end connected to the floor that had a cuff on the other end. “What kind of sick place is this?” You gulped as your gaze shifted to the windowless cinderblock walls that surrounded you.

When the door opened you jumped and yelped.  

“Here’s yer water. Gotcha a straw,” he said with a proud grin, as if the straw was a thoughtful gesture when you were literally tied to a chair in a room that looked like it belonged in a horror movie.

“Thanks,” you muttered, sipping the water through the straw.

“’Course!” He smiled at you. “Gotta keep ya hydrated, like I said.” He continued to hold the cup and straw for you until you finished. “There ya go,” the man said with a smile. You just stared at him. “Alright. Let’s try callin’ yer dad and see if he’s gonna pay up now.” He took out his phone and called, holding it to his ear.

“Ahhh, Mr. Y/L/N, yeah?” the man said into the phone. You could only hear half of the conversation. “Good. I got yer kid here. Ya ready to pay yer debt yet?” A pause, the man’s face turning sour. “Fine, here.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and put your father on speakerphone.

“Y/n?” Your father’s voice asked, sounding a bit worried.

“Dad,” you gasped, not really expecting to hear your father. “Dad? Is that you? I don’t know where I am. Please help!

“Ohmygod, Y/n!” He was sufficiently panicked, and the man took the phone back holding it up to his ear.

“Easy, easy, Y/L/N-san. Focus.” Majima’s face contorting in frustration. “I said to calm the fuck down!” He shouted into the phone, looking pleased as he continued. “That’s better. Now, when I can I expect yer payment?” A pause, another sour face. “Do ya really think Imma let ya have until tomorrow when yer just gonna skip town. Ya got two hours, otherwise I’m keepin’ the girl.” The man hung up the phone, sliding it into his pocket. “I guess we’ll haveta see if yer Dad thinks yer worth payin’ his debt for.” He paused, looking you up and down again. “I’d pay for ya.”

You squirmed, looking away. He knelt down in front of you and looked into your eyes with his eye, watching you curiously. “I might have some fun with ya later. We’ll see. For now, I gotta get some work done. Tata~” He said, standing up and waving as he walked out the door. A moment later he came back in. “I almost forgot.” He pulled your chair over, clasping the cuff around your ankle and then cutting the ropes off that had you tied to the chair, freeing your wrists as well. “There, that’s gotta feel better.” You just stared at him, unable to move in fear. “Alright. Bye, for realsies this time, Y/n-chan~!” He walked out, waving again and you were left sitting in your chair, still too deep in shock to do anything.

What felt like hours passed and you stayed in the chair, still coming to terms with what happened and where you were. You had always thought that you would be stronger in this situation, that you would fight back – but you weren’t, and you didn’t. You just sat in your chair, rubbing your wrists, and feeling the cold metal of your ankle cuff on your skin. You felt tears floating around in your eyes, looking around as the reality of your situation settled in.

Eventually you stood up, walking around to see how far your chain would allow you to go. Not very far. You couldn’t reach any of the walls, and you could barely reach the bed and lay on it. You couldn’t even get near the door, not that you could break it down if you could reach it. From the look of it and how it sounded when it closed, it was solid wood.

You settled on sitting on the bed, looking up at the hook in the ceiling, wondering what it was for. Images of hanging slabs of meat floated through your mind and you looked away, trying to find something else to distract yourself with.

It shocked you that you weren’t crying. At this point you didn’t feel scared or sad enough to cry; you just felt numb. You didn’t feel like you were in your body. You laid down, resting you hear on the shitty flat pillow, curling up in the fetal position for warmth since there was no blanket, and closed your eyes.

/// You were awoken by the angry slam of the door and the one-eyed man looked even more angry than he had when he was on the phone. “Yer dad still ain’t payin’. Do ya know what that means?” You shook your head. “Means I gotta rough ya up a bit to show Daddy just how much I mean what I’m tellin’ him.”

You heard your dad’s voice panicking on the phone and your stomach turned sour. You cowered on the bed, not sure what was coming. The man set his phone down, climbing onto the bed with a pair of handcuffs he pulled out of his back pocket, wrestling with you until your hands were cuffed together and you were crying. What was he going to do to you?

“Majima! Don’t touch her!” Your father’s voice called out.

So this one-eyed monster had a name, and that name was Majima.

He grabbed the cufflinks and pulled you off the bed, bringing you below the hook and effortlessly putting the links into it. You tried to wiggle out of it, but you could barely touch the floor on your tiptoes, and the hook was too high to maneuver the links over it. You whimpered, knowing whatever he was going to do next was something.

“I gotta say, Mr. Y/L/N, yer daughter is… well. Ya see what I’m seein’ ain’tcha? That tank top is just… So tight. Leaves nothin’ to the imagination. Them shorts are just…” Majima’s voice trailed off and he looked over to the phone on the chair. “Ah, s’pose not. Lemme fix that.” He maneuvered the chair and phone so he could see exactly what was happening.

“Let’s begin,” the man said, pulling out a tanto, unsheathing it.

You heard your father protest, but you couldn’t understand him. Your heartbeat was whooshing in your head as you feared the worst was coming.

He was going to rape you, wasn’t he?

“Da—Dad?” You whimpered, crying. “Dad—Dad please don’t let—”

“All yer dad has to do is pay me what I’m owed, and then yer free to go,” Majima assured, approaching you. “I don’ wanna hurt ya, but I gotta get my money. Sorry, darlin’.”

“Let—Let me go home, please! Please! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t!” You begged, crying. “Please don’t—”

“This is yer dad’s doin’. All he hasta do is pay. Once he pays, yer free!” Majima laughed. “Easy as that.”

“MAJIMA!” Your dad shouted; you closed your eyes when you heard his voice crack.

You felt the tip of the blade against the skin of your neck. It wasn’t pressed enough to draw blood, but you tilted your head back in an effort to pull back from it, it didn’t work. Majima looked to his phone, and your eyes followed, seeing yourself on the screen and trying not to shriek. The blade slowly slid down to your collarbones, tracing the edges of them. You continued to whimper.

“Last chance, Y/L/N-san,” Majima’s eye was raking your body yet again, and you felt his hand playing with the fabric of your tank top. “It’s like she dressed this way just ta tease me,” he sighed, removing the blade and replacing it with his lips. “She tastes good, too,” he continued to kiss and lick your neck, maneuvering to each side. As you tried to get away, you only gave him more access. At one point he grabbed your throat. “Quit. Moving.” You did, closing your eyes and whimpering some more.

By this time, you were sobbing. You knew what was coming, and you were powerless to stop it.

“MAJIMA! STOP IT!” Your father shouted again, falling on deaf ears.

“If yer neck tastes this good, I can’t wait ta try yer pussy,” Majima growled, causing you to whimper louder, trying to lean away. He back away for a moment, turning to look at his phone, making sure your father had a good view. “Well, Daddy, what should I take first?” He asked, tapping his chin with the flat of the blade.

“Majima, please! I’ll pay! Just give me a little—”

“Ya had yer time,” Majima responded so coldly that it felt like the room temperature dropped.

He approached you, your crying and sobbing having shifted to tears and mindless babble that was begging him to stop. He wasn’t going to. He took your tank top in one hand and used the tanto to start cutting your shirt off. Once it was completely ripped open, he took another step back. You were sobbing, looking at the floor. Terrified and ashamed of what was happening.

“What’s next, Y/L/N?” Majima asked, looking at the phone, listening to your father beg him to stop. “You keep beggin’ me to stop, but you beggin’ ain’t gettin’ yer debt erased.”

“I’ll give you my home, my car, my daughter— just don’t make me watch this anymore!” Your father begged.

Majima hesitated, and it took you a moment to process what

“Deal.” He hung up the phone, looking at you, watching you cry for a moment before unlocking the cuffs. “I can’t believe that fuckin’ asshole would sell his own kid like that,” he grumbled. “She’s yer kid, dipshit, yer supposed to protect her, not sell her to clear yer fuckin’ debts.”

You didn’t care, you were just crying. You fell to the ground once you were no longer being held up by the cuffs. Majima caught you, rubbing your back as you clung to him. It was strange, clinging for comfort to the man you were sure was going to rape you not even a full minute ago. Yet, here you are, clinging to him. He picked you up, carrying you to the bed and sat you down, undoing the ankle cuff and then sitting on the bed next to you. You leaned away from him.

“I wasn’ gonna hurt ya,” Majima sighed. “Just hadta make yer dad think I was. Figured he’d pay that way, can’t say I expected him to sell ya to me.” You dived into his arms, sobbing violently. “Shhh… It’s okay,” he assured, resting his cheek against your head as you cried.

All you wanted was to wake up in your bed back in your apartment. That you could call your dad and tell him what you dreamt about and how much it hurt. He’d comfort you; tell you that would never happen, that you were more important money or material items. That wasn’t going to happen, though.

All you could do was cry, waiting for Majima to decide what he was going to do with you.

[peachyteez]

death’s grip ≫ DAY FIVE, YES.

the tiger hybrid managed to escape from south korea’s top illegal hybird ring fights. of course, they didn’t let him go so easily. losing his chasers in a forest, covered in blood—his and others’—he decided to accept his fate of death from his wounds until a female and two other hybrids managed to take him from death’s grip.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminbluee, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @deep-ocean-dweller, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight

can’t be tagged: @yoongisleftboob

feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to the list! :)

✧ notes: perhaps i kinda teared up while typing this up...

✧ WARNINGS: mentions of killing, death, and blood

back。| next。

“what do you mean, you know?” jiyu asked. she definitely isn’t expecting the news this early in the morning.

“they told me yesterday,” hongjoong explained. “how i almost...died.”

jiyu didn’t say anything, only letting out a small sigh before dryly chuckling. “that would explain why they were so nice yesterday at home.” she did find it strange how seonghwa and yunho were so behaving and nice when they came home the previous evening. 

sensing her shift in mood, hongjoong worried that they had upset her and that the two could end up getting punished because of him. “wait, please don’t punish them—”

jiyu’s eyes widened at his words and she put her hands up in front of her. “woah, woah, woah, it’s okay, hongjoong. i’m not mad nor am i going to punish them,” she reassured. she softly smiled. “they didn't do anything wrong. i was actually trying to find a way and time to tell you without upsetting you, but i guess they beat me to that.”

hongjoong shifted his gaze out to the window. “you, know...they helped me open my eyes a little,” he meekly admitted. intrigued by his words, jiyu took a seat on the chair next to the bed. “i don’t know what they went through, but they seemed to have put their faith in you. i’ll be honest, at first, i didn’t know why—why trust humans again when all they’ve done is inflict both mental and physical pain on you? but...they seemed so earnest to defend you when i asked why you never told me i almost died.”

jiyu intently listened.

“and surprisingly enough, i couldn’t be mad at you for keeping that from me. even though i thought you were trying to defend my former owners by keeping my potential death a secret. i think deep down, i had unconsciously given you my trust a long time ago. i was just too prideful to admit or acknowledge it.”

jiyu licked her lips before carefully explaining her intentions. “you had just woken up a few days ago and i didn't want to suddenly drop the bomb on you that you were literally teetering between life and death. you could’ve gotten too emotional to think rationally and hurt yourself and others on accident...that’s why i kept it,” she slowly reached up and gently rested her hand on his head. he didn't flinch away. “but i guess, in a way, i was trying to defend humans, too. it would’ve been hypocritical of me to tell you that you almost died from humans when i’ve been telling you that there’s good ones out there,” she wryly smiled. 

“but never forget. i always had your well-being in mind, hongjoong. i never had reasons to hurt or go against you.”

hearing her confession, along with relief, hongjoong felt a small tug of guilt in his gut. he never told her who he was or where he came from. his presence in her life could be a danger, yet he never said anything. 

he took a deep breath before looking into her eyes. “i used to be part of an illegal hybrid ring fighting group.”

jiyu’s eyes widened again. searching his face for any signs of a joke, she found none. but she did notice his hesitance on continuing. “you don’t have to—”

“no...i think you should know,” he insisted before taking a deep breath. “i was part of the...blood pirates.”

jiyu could’ve sworn she almost fainted right there and then. blood pirates? that one illegal organization that never got caught? the one that illegally collected hybrids for their fights? she had so many questions. how did he escape? where were the blood pirates based?

hongjoong told her everything. “my parents were also part of the blood pirates. but there was a catch...i had to kill them as my final test for my training. i had to kill them...or they would kill all three of us.”

jiyu gasped in horror. hongjoong took a deep breath and continued. “after that, i locked all my emotions away. i lost touch with myself and i just...killed. i killed one after the other with no remorse. i thought that’s how life worked—only the strongest could survive, and that’s how i managed to survive for the past who knows how many years,” his ears drooped in sadness at recalling such chilling memories. “i hated it. the chanting and cheers of the crowd, the look of my opponent’s face right before the life slipped out of their eyes, how my hands were stained red after—” his voice broke with emotion. peering over at his face, jiyu realized he was holding in his sobs.

“i didn’t want to kill them...” he whimpered, staring down at his hands. hands that had once been stained with the blood of his opponents as he fought for his life. “i just fought to live. to see the sunrise the next day. but then i remember that they couldn’t; they couldn’t see the sunrise like i could. they weren't in the basement with me anymore. instead,  they come back in my dreams, and i hear their voices haunting me. i’m a monster. a killer.”

listening to hongjoong and watching him bring his knees up to his chest as he cried, her heart broke. no one should have to go through that. no one should have to fight just to see the next day...no hybrid should ever have to live in fear and constantly think that today might be their last. nor should they ever have to think they were a monster.

before he could react, she stood up and wrapped her arms around him. she rested her chin on his head and comfortingly pat his shoulder. she couldn’t see his face, but she knew he must’ve been surprised with how he had tensed up. 

“you’re not a monster, hongjoong. you did what you had to do to live. anyone would've done that,” she reassured. “it’s in our nature to do whatever it takes to survive. life’s precious, you only get one chance. and i’m sure your...opponents knew, too. it’s not your fault, hongjoong. you’re not a monster or a killer. the guilt you feel for having to take their life—that just shows that you have a heart, feelings,” she peered down at his glossy eyes. “have you ever considered that they might’ve come back to watch over you? rather than haunt you?”

by that point, even jiyu was crying. crying at the thought of how the tiger hybrid had endured so much pain by himself. he had no one by his side to help him. the other hybrids with him had the same goal. to live. befriending each other would’ve made them too emotionally attached to each other to kill. 

feeling her tears land on his cheek, it only prompted his unshed ones to fall. he buried his head in her neck and cried. cried out all of the tears he had for the ones he killed, cried out the despair and hopelessness he’s felt ever since he was old enough to process the world around him. but most importantly, cried at the thought of being finally being safe and away from the bloody, heartless world he came from. 

she held him close. despite being an adult, he seemed so small, so childlike as he hugged her and cried. rocking him from side-to-side, she ran her fingers gently through his hair and whispered comforting words to him. “they’re in a better place, joong. i promise. they’re free from the pain.”

feeling his body shake in her arms from his sobs, it took every ounce of strength for her to not sob along with him. she had to stay strong. she had to keep him grounded. a while had passed; hongjoong’s cries filling the room with jiyu comforting him.

she suddenly stopped combing through his hair. “would you like to come home with me?” 

hongjoong pulled away from her at the question. “w-what?” he sniffled. 

she grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and gently dabbed his tears away. “i know it’s sudden...but would you like to come live with us three?” she asked. “i’m not forcing you to, it’s a hundred percent your decision. i just realized you don’t have anywhere to go after you’re discharged here.”

hongjoong blinked, slowly processing her offer. his heart raced with happiness. he wanted nothing more than to spend his days in her safe presence, to spend his days getting to know seonghwa and yunho. but deep down, he felt something holding him back. 

“b-but the blood p-pirates...” he managed to stutter out. he was terrified of what could happen if they found him again. he didn’t want to endanger three innocent people just because he was selfish and wanted to experience heaven for a while longer.

“don’t worry about them. if they ever show up, i have a lot of connections,” she smiled, a mysterious hint to it. hongjoong grew curious. connections? what kind? who was she?

“besides, if you were alone in the forest that day, they probably presumed you were dead,” she reasoned. “bottom line is...you’ll be safe with me, hongjoong. with us; me, seonghwa, and yunho. i swear on my life. so...what’s your answer?”

hongjoong stared deep into her eyes, trying to find signs of uncertainty—heck, he was even waiting for her to say it was a joke and that she would never adopt him for who he was. but she didn't. she stared back; an unwavering and determined expression. she was dead serious. 

was he ready to start a new life? was he ready to leave his old life behind and start again from scratch with a new family? does he deserve this second chance after all the lives he’s taken?

suddenly, a little voice, as clear as day, rang next to his ear. yes. all of a sudden, it was like every fiber of his being and soul was pushing him to accept. feeling a slight breeze blow past him, he felt at ease. maybe jiyu was right; they were watching out for him, looking over him despite their tragic ending by his own hands. 

“hm, where did that breeze come from?” jiyu frowned, seeing that the window was still closed. she looked back down to the hybrid on the bed in front of her before smiling and extending her hand towards him. “so? will you join us?”

with his ears perking up with a newfound burst of energy and his tail waving around with anticipation at his new future, he slowly reached out with his own hand and clasped her’s. “yes.”

she grinned. “well, seonghwa and yunho will definitely be excited as i am about you joining our family.”

[onecanonlife]

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 8,975

Chapter Warnings: swearing, mentioned death, mild sui.cidal ideation

Chapter Summary: In which Wilbur has several conversations of emotional import, and then comes face to face with his son.

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Sixteen: head down

“Are you sure you’re good?” Tommy asks him.

Around them, the lava of the nether pops and crackles, the heat sticking to him like resin. Techno and Phil walk ahead of them, swords out in readiness for the odd ghast or hoglin, and Ranboo trails along behind them like a lost duckling. He could walk with them, he knows, probably should, but weariness clings to his bones today, and he doesn’t feel much up to the conversations he knows Phil might try to start. So he’s been walking a few paces to the rear, hands shoved in his pockets, but now here is Tommy, dropping back to keep pace with him.

“I’ve said it already, haven’t I?” he asks, and just an ounce of irritation leaks into his tone. “I’m fine, Tommy, I promise. And I’ve already had an earful from Phil this morning, so I don’t need you to repeat it.”

He anticipated it, of course. After his worry subsided, Phil was not particularly happy to learn that he provoked a dangerous god on purpose. He doesn’t blame him for that, but being chided like a child rankled. Still rankles.

(he doesn’t blame him, though, truly, because it is easy for some part of him at least to look at it through Phil’s eyes, and it must have terrified him, finding him slumped against the portal like that, eyes hazy and words slurring, some sliver of the infinite still hanging about him like a shroud)

“I’m not Phil,” Tommy says, seeming offended by the very prospect. “I’m not—you just scared me, Wil. And you’re still acting all out of it.” His eyes drift upward, landing around the vicinity of his forehead, and Wilbur knows he’s staring at his hair again. It makes him want to pull his beanie forward to hide it, but that would draw a different kind of attention, a different kind of concern.

(he looked in the mirror this morning. almost a third of his hair, it seems, has been bleached white, in streaks that stand out starkly against the brown. he wouldn’t mind it so much if people would stop looking at it, would stop looking at him like he’s some sort of zoo animal)

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I had kind of an eventful night last night,” he says. “I’m just tired, is all.”

Tommy’s face darkens, and he glances away. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he mutters.

“Do what?”

“That,” Tommy says, gesturing. “It’s—it’s deflection, is what it is. Puffy told me so. It’s called an avoidance tactic.” He sounds out the syllables one by one, obviously repeating something he heard. “I thought you said you weren’t going to hide shit anymore. You said.”

“I—” He breaks off, sighing. “I know. Tommy, I’m sorry. I just feel like focusing on the current problem is what we need to be doing right now. And then later we deal with all of my shit. Can’t do that if we’ve all been sacrificed to an egg cult. But I really am just tired, Tommy. Nothing more than that.”

“I feel like last time we tried to focus on the current problem and ignore all of yours, it didn’t go so well,” Tommy says, and there’s no real heat to his words, but Wilbur stops in his tracks. He’s not sure why it hits him so hard, in this moment of all moments, but it does. Perhaps his ability to emotionally distance was damaged last night, somewhere between having a god in his head and staring into the void once again. He feels raw, in a way. An exposed wire.

“Oh,” he says.

(dark walls dark walls and dark paths and no railings and he didn’t place the buttons but he may as well have for all that they were projections of him)

Tommy takes several more steps before realizing that he’s not beside him anymore, and he stops, too, turning. “Oh,” he echoes, eyes widening. “Wait, no, that wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to—shit, Wilbur, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just bring it up like that.”

“You shouldn’t be apologizing,” he manages. “You have every right to bring it up. You’re the one who got hurt.”

(you hurt him even though you didn’t mean to, lashed out because some part of you was crying out for help and this was the only way you knew how to ask for it, so convinced were you that you deserved nothing, nothing at all, deserved to be consigned to the dark, and you didn’t mean to but you hurt him all the same)

“Nothing can hurt me,” Tommy says, probably an automatic response, but Wilbur shoots him a look, and he trails off. This doesn’t seem like the time or place to be having a conversation like this, not with the snap-pop of lava beneath and all around them and the wail of mobs in the distance, but if they’re going to have it, then let them have it. “Alright, yeah. I guess.” His eyes skitter off him for a moment, drifting to one of the closer lava pools, and then back again. “But you were hurt too, Wil.”

“That’s not an excuse,” he says.

“No, but it’s—it’s a reason, y’know? It’s an explanation. And it’s not—it’s not an excuse, I’m not trying to say it’s an excuse, but it’s still important. And I—I’ve forgiven you, really, for all of it. So this isn’t—I just don’t want things to end the same. And I’m a, a little bit freaked out lately, Wilbur, if you couldn’t tell, because this all just seems like history repeating itself. We were supposed to be done with shit like this, and then you came back and I thought to myself, here it is, here’s our second chance. But now we’re fighting Dream again, and the whole server might be taken over by now, and it’s us against the bastards in charge but that didn’t end well last time, Wilbur!”

“It’ll be different,” he offers, and his voice falls flat.

“You can’t know that,” Tommy says. “There’s no way for you to—Prime, Wilbur, I just wanted everything to stay the same.” He buries his face in his hands. “You, me, and Tubbo. Back the way we used to be. None of this shit. But Dream’s out again and Phil and Techno are here, and you know, I never wanted to see them again. Did you know that? I wanted them to stay just, just so fucking far away. But then Techno did that, in the Egg room, and Phil’s wings are all fucked, and—and I didn’t want to think they cared, Wil, I didn’t, but now they do, and it’s all messy and complicated, and I hate it, I hate it so much, and I don’t understand why I can’t ever have anything good—”

It’s nice to hear that Tommy is, perhaps, inching toward forgiving Phil and Techno. Wilbur would rather like to have a family at the end of this, even if they can never be what they once were. But the rest of that speech is what takes up his attention, and he strides forward, reaching out and gripping Tommy’s elbows.

“Hey,” he says, insistently, “no, no, that’s all wrong. You get to have good things. You haven’t had nearly as many good things as you deserve, and that’s at least partially my fault, but once this is all over, you’re going to have so many good things, you won’t know what to do with them all. But you deserve good things and you can have them, I swear, because you’re so good, Tommy, do you hear me? You’re so good. And I will make fucking sure that you get those good things if it’s the last thing I do.”

Tommy lowers his hands. His face is not tear-stained, as Wilbur half-expected, but his eyes have grown irritated, and they glimmer in the red-orange light.

“But you’re one of the good things,” he chokes out, “and you don’t even fucking want to be here. You want to leave again.”

His heart twists in on itself.

“Oh,” he says, much weaker, this time. “Tommy, I—”

What can he say to that? He’s promised himself not to lie anymore. Not to him. But he can’t give him any comfort, not regarding this, because while he feels steadier than he did at the start, more resigned to this new life he’s been

(pulled into by a god at the request of the universe)

granted, more determined to stay if only for Tommy’s sake, but that’s the thing. It is for Tommy’s sake. For the sake of all the other people who somehow seem to want him around. It is not for his own.

(he forgot how to live for his own sake a long, long time ago, and though he can at least recognize as much now, recognition does not lead him to a solution, a solution he’s not even sure he wants)

“I’m sorry,” he finishes, because it’s all he has to give, inadequate though it is, and he takes Tommy’s hands. “I’m not leaving. Not on purpose. I swear that to you. I’m not leaving.”

“You—what are you doing?” Tommy asks, and he blinks. Tommy blinks back, his face scrunching up, and he lifts their joined hands. Both of them are now stained with blue. Which—what?

Oh. Did he—he did, didn’t he? Opened up his inventory, pulled out the blue dye from days ago? Pressed it into Tommy’s hands on instinct, some drive insisting that it would help, that it would be better than nothing at all, that even if it was nothing but dye it would at least show that he cared, that he was trying?

He must have. He did. He remembers doing it now. He didn’t even think about it, moved on some natural impulse.

“I don’t know,” he says.

(calm yourself, have some blue)

(calm yourself, have some blue)

(calm yourself, have some blue)

“This is Ghostbur’s thing,” Tommy says.

“I’m not Ghostbur.”

(for his heart beats in his chest beats out alive alive alive in a way that Ghostbur’s never could, though his blood stained his sweater, and yet he has Ghostbur’s memories and if he is not Ghostbur, shares nothing with the shade, then what was the ghost, in the end, and where did he come from, if he was not)

“But Ghostbur was part of you, wasn’t he?” Tommy says, and he sounds just a bit calmer, now, so maybe the blue has helped. Even though it’s just dye. “Even if he wasn’t you you. So he’s still part of you, isn’t he?”

“I—” His heart is thundering. He doesn’t know why. “I haven’t been thinking about it. Not like that.”

(he has to keep Ghostbur separate from him has to consider him separate because the ghost was not him the ghost in all his smiles and useless platitudes and all-encompassing desire to help was not him his endless love was not him because the ghost was useless to the last but he was good and kind and he has never believed that he is any of those things so the ghost must be separate must have come from him but been separate been something else in the end and there must be nothing but faded memories to connect them)

(but you know better than that, deep down, know better than to truly believe that your kindness exists as a different entity from the rest of you because you are capable of so much if you only allow yourself if you are only given the space to grow and  to be if someone stops you from taking the world on your shoulders and the ghost was the you that broke was a you that rejected the responsibility was a you that crumbled and he was what remained but he was you he was you he was you but less and you are him but more)

(and perhaps one day you will learn to accept yourself better)

“Maybe you should,” Tommy says, and glances away. “Ghostbur tried. And he was my brother too. You’re my brother. No matter what, that hasn’t changed. Even if you’re a prick.”

Tears spring to his eyes, surprising him, and he blinks them back.

“Right,” he says. “Right, I—yeah. Okay. But Tommy, Tommy, listen to me, alright? I swear to you” —He squeezes Tommy’s hands, and watches as the blue dye runs between them. Their fingers will be stained for hours, and he finds that he doesn’t mind at all— “I will do everything in my power to make sure that good things come again. You say it’s all messy and complicated, and that’s true. I know that’s true. But we’re going to have time to figure it all out. We’re going to have time. And I’m including myself in that. I know I’m not—I’m not always the most trustworthy, I know that. But I promise, I mean this. Staying is—it’s worth it if it’s for you, alright?”

Something passes across Tommy’s face, too quick and too complicated to read. But he presses on, bringing Tommy’s hands up to his chest and keeping them there.

“We are not powerless,” he states. “History doesn’t make us, we make history. And if history is repeating itself, we don’t let it. We won’t let it. You deserve good things, Tommyinnit, and you’re going to get them.”

“If you say so, Wil,” Tommy says, and he still seems a bit discomfited, but also a bit steadier, now. A bit more secure.

“I do say so,” he says. “I’ll say it again if you need me to.”

“Please don’t,” Tommy says. “You’ve—see, look at what you’ve done, now my hands are all blue and sticky. You’ve given me sticky fingers, Wil.”

Tommy has chosen to end the moment, it seems. He’s not sure whether they’ve managed to say what needed to be said or not.

“Don’t say that to me,” he says. He squeezes Tommy’s hands one last time, and then lets go. “That makes me sound terrible.”

“Well, maybe you are,” Tommy shoots back, with a smirk that takes away any potential sting. “Live with it, bastard.” A pause, and then: “Did those arseholes even bother to wait for us? Dickheads, the lot of them. C’mon, they’ll start bitching about it if we fall too far behind.”

And then, Tommy grabs his hand himself, of his own volition, and starts to pull Wilbur along the path, cobblestone and meandering and precarious, and Wilbur’s chest feels hot, full of pressure. But it’s not quite a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all, in fact.

(he was always so cold in that ravine, no matter how he gathered his coat around him, shoved his hands in his pockets, and he watched everyone else and felt colder still, froze in the face of their flickering warmth with each other, and he turned away because he knew the warmth was not for him, that soon there would be no warmth at all)

(and the fire gave him heat but no warmth, his desired ending but no absolution)

(something you will keep to yourself: you were warm at the end, as your blood stained your father’s hands, as your vision dimmed and he held you close, so very warm at last, but it would hurt him to know that to hear from your mouth the relief you felt so you must not must not say)

The others have indeed had the decency to wait for them not too far ahead, and he nods in response to Phil’s raised eyebrow. Everything’s fine, he means to say, and Phil nods back and says nothing else about it, which he appreciates, for Tommy’s sake just as much as his. The portal isn’t far from there, and it’s not long before he’s stepping into the purple glow, closing his eyes at the dizzying upheaval of his surroundings.

The rain hits his face immediately. Thunder rolls, and wind buffets his jacket. It is a welcome change from the stifling heat of the nether, but he has to squint against the downpour, everyone else’s figures suddenly becoming shadowy, indistinct. The sky itself is dark and angry, black clouds churning, and it’s almost as if it were still night rather than early morning.

He takes another step out of the portal and almost trips. Looking down, he can’t stop his sudden inhalation. The color is dull, washed out in the lack of sunlight,

(though his mind is eager to fill in the gaps eager to show him)

but he doesn’t need the color to recognize the vine by his foot, nor any of the vines that crawl across the stone.

“Oh, fuck,” Phil says.

“We’ve been gone for a day,” Tommy says, disbelieving. “It wasn’t like this yesterday, was it?”

He cannot believe that leaving was a mistake, not with what it led to, even if the original plan was foolhardy. He does not regret the opportunity to petition a god, to make himself heard, even if it results in nothing in the end. But staring out over the landscape, the Prime Path ahead of them is choked with the things, and though the community house is little more than a vague structure in the rainy haze, it almost appears as if it’s grown hair, or tentacles, or something of that kind, so covered over with the foliage as it is.

“They’re all okay, right?” Ranboo says, his voice nearly a whisper. “They all have to be okay.”

Eret’s castle is visible from here, but just barely. He can’t tell if the vines have taken it over as well, but there’s only one way to find out.

“I think we craft some boats, cross the lake rather than going by the Prime Path,” he says. “Unless you’d like to chop your way through, but—” He glances at the ground. The vines are motionless, but he doesn’t trust that not to change.

“I have to say,” Techno says, “bein’ strangled by Egg tentacles? Not my idea of a good time.” There’s nothing on his face except his typical disgruntlement, or at least, nothing that Wilbur can see. The wind whips his hair in and out of his face, the long pink strands obscuring his expression. But there is an edge to his voice, barely discernible. It wouldn’t be, to anyone who didn’t know him well. “If boats’ll let us avoid the things, my vote’s for boats.”

Ranboo snorts, and then wilts when eyes turn to him. “It rhymed,” he offers weakly, and Tommy groans.

“Can we give Ranboo to the Egg?” he asks, and Wilbur

(doesn’t like that, not at all, even though he knows that Tommy is joking, though he knows that Tommy does not hear the Egg for some unknown, blessed reason and he’s not looking that gift horse in the mouth, but that means that Tommy doesn’t really get that it’s not a thing to make jokes about, giving someone to the Egg, to the creep and crawl of something alien and void scraping out your mind and making it something that is you but not, you but slightly tilted, diagonal, something that fits the Egg’s wants more than your own even if you don’t realize it, and he doesn’t have the energy to berate him for the quip but he really wishes he wouldn’t suggest it, even in jest, even though he knows that Tommy copes through jokes and they’re all just struggling to make it through this, really)

shakes his head. Phil’s moved closer to the stairs, so he goes to join him, picking his way through the vines as best he can, and in his peripheral vision, he sees Techno and Ranboo follow.

“Someone’s had the same idea,” Phil says, inclining his head to the nearest bit of shoreline. There is a figure clearly visible there, though they are too distant and hidden by the gloom to make out features. They’re pulling a boat ashore, and then they turn in their direction and raise a hand, making a come-hither gesture.

Lightning flashes, and thunder follows shortly thereafter. The brief instant of light is enough to illuminate Eret’s features, the curl of his hair and his ever present crown.

“Are they on our side?” Techno asks, and—did anyone remember to fill Techno in? He certainly didn’t, and he doesn’t particularly want to right now. Even just watching the monarch puts a sour taste in his mouth.

(and some of the vitriol he directs at himself, because he is cognizant of his own hypocrisy)

“Presumably,” he mutters, but Tommy’s already making his way down, waving his hands around and shouting like a bloody moron, because of course he is, because of course Tommy’s not concerned with who might hear him.

(and that, at least, has not changed, and it is a good thing that Tommy still has it in him to challenge the world, to make his presence known, because that is part of what makes Tommy himself and he does not deserve to lose that, even when it is unwise, even when it can make everything else so much more difficult)

Which is not great, because not seeing anyone else around doesn’t mean that no one is there, so the only choice from there is to go after him and make sure he doesn’t get ambushed.

“I’m glad to see you all in one piece,” Eret says, as soon as they all come within hearing range. “You as well, Technoblade.”

Techno doesn’t dignify that with a response, but Eret continues, apparently unbothered.

“We saw the activity from the portal,” he says. “I thought I’d come to escort you all. You might have noticed, but the Prime Path is not currently particularly traversable.” He smiles wryly. “You’ll be please to know that the castle grounds, however, are currently free of unwanted flora, and aside from spreading these eyesores all over the place, the Egg and its cohorts have been quiet. If we’re quick about it, I don’t see us having much issue, and to that end” —He flicks his fingers, and two more spruce boats land in the water, summoned from his inventory— “I brought these. If you’d like, we can be on our way. Might be a bit bumpy because of the storm, but it’s perfectly passable.”

“Oh, we would like,” Tommy says, clambering in without hesitation. “We would like very much. C’mon, Ranboob, in.” He tugs on Ranboo’s hand, and Ranboo all but topples into the boat beside him. Phil and Techno claim the next one, and he—

He’s going to have to ride with Eret. Brilliant.

He sighs, stepping in and settling on one of the two seats. Eret barely casts him a glance before he gets to rowing, and then they’re off, gliding across choppy water. Wilbur stares into it, watches the ripples of the raindrops as they impact the surface, studies the patterns they make rather than looking at Eret himself. But even the noise of the wind and the thunder overhead cannot disguise the note of anticipation in the atmosphere.

“I really am glad you’re back, Wilbur,” Eret says. His voice is low, carries just enough to reach him, but the noise of the rain will prevent it from drifting to the other boats. “I’d been hoping for a chance to speak to you again for—quite some time now, actually.”

He shifts, and idly wonders how many conversations like this he’s going to have to have today. He’s already worn out from speaking to Tommy in the way that he did, though at least with Eret, he doesn’t feel the need to guard his tone nearly as much.

“You were involved in trying to resurrect me a while ago,” he says. Neutral, probing. “I remember that much.”

“You—so you do have Ghostbur’s memories,” Eret says.

“Some,” he replies. “Most, I’d say. What he bothered to remember, at least. He was never very good at figuring out people’s motivations, though. Very trusting, he was. Naive. Was it guilt that drove you to help? I can’t picture what you think you would have gotten out of it otherwise.”

It’s difficult to see Eret’s expression; the weather and his glasses unite to mask the minutiae of his face.

“I suppose it was, in the end,” he says, soft and slow. “I carry a lot of regrets with me. I’m sure that’s something you know a lot about. Regrets.” He stiffens, but Eret shakes his head. “I don’t mean that as an attack. Just a statement. I doubt you could find anyone on this server who hasn’t done something they wish they could take back. But for me, betraying L’Manberg, betraying you—that’s my regret. I’ve been aimless since then.” Lightning flashes again; he’s smiling, but Wilbur knows a joyless smile when he sees one. “A throne with no power, a crown that means nothing—none of that was worth betraying my friends. I know that now. So I’ve sought redemption, tried to make amends, and I’ve tried to change. I would like to think that I have. But the one person I needed to make it up to the most wasn’t here anymore. So I suppose you could say that it was guilt, that it was selfish of me. But I wanted to be able to atone to you. That’s all there was to it, really.”

He digests that for a moment. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.

(because on one hand his heart sings traitor, sings you killed us all killed me killed my brothers killed my son, but can he say that the betrayal was worse than his? can he deny Eret his redemption when he is struggling for atonement himself, forgiveness that he is certain he does not and never will deserve?)

(he’s thought through all of this before, gone round in circles again and again, and it might be time to make a decision)

“And what would you do if I didn’t accept your atonement?” he asks. He dips a hand in the water. When he lifts it out again, it is still stained blue.

“I would keep on,” Eret answers. “I think that’s all I could do. If you never forgive me, that’s more than understandable on your end. I hardly have the right to force the issue. But I’m completely sincere when I tell you that I want to be better. I’m trying to be better. And I don’t really know whether I’ve done a good job of that lately or not. I’ve been rather absent, truth be told. But I don’t plan on stopping my efforts.”

He frowns.

“That’s fair,” he says, “though I feel like you should know that I’m hardly the type of man who can go around giving other people absolution.”

“It’s not really absolution that I’m looking for,” Eret says. “More of a chance to try again.”

He has no answer to that. And no time to give one even if he had it, because the boat runs aground, the castle looming over them all, and true to Eret’s word, the walls themselves show no signs of encroachment, though the land surrounding it almost looks like a great red rug for all that the grass itself is barely visible.

“Tubbo managed to ward the castle,” Eret says, addressing all of them. “I’m still not entirely sure how. This isn’t a kind of magic that’s familiar to me. But whatever he did, it worked, and then when Fundy got here he backed him up. He did a really good job, actually.”

“Of course he did,” Tommy says. “He’s Tubbo.”

But Wilbur’s stuck on the other thing. Said so offhandedly.

The thought has crossed his mind, of course, that he has not yet seen his son. Has not yet so much as spoken to him. But it is one thing to know it in the abstract and quite another to be confronted with it suddenly. Fundy is in the castle, is mere feet away, and he is exhausted and entirely unprepared for this.

(and what a selfish thought that is, that he is unprepared to meet with his own child, unprepared to do the bare minimum, to tell him of his return, to apologize for hanging him out to dry, how selfish it is that his child has fallen so low on his list of priorities, how selfish, how selfish, and he does not know whether he has the strength to admit it out loud)

(he is certain that he owes Fundy an apology, just as he owes so many people apologies, and yet he remembers his son burning down the flag, burning down all he held dear, carrying out Schlatt’s every order to its full extent in a way that even Tubbo did not, and Fundy claimed that he was a spy all along, that he never truly turned against him, but by that time the damage had already been done and how was he supposed to believe when he already felt so alone, already felt like the world had turned against him and his legacy was ruined so all there was left to do was send it and himself to hell)

“Can we go in?” he asks. “We’re soaked. Unless there’s a point to hanging around here. And also—have you not set anyone to stand watch?”

There’s no one visible on the walls above them, and gates only do so much to keep out an invading force.

“The enchantments keep them out,” Eret answers, and places a hand against the gates. The wood shimmers slightly, the effect just barely perceptible, and looks almost as if the gate itself is rippling, distorted, like viewing it through a fun house mirror. “Or rather, as near as we can tell, the enchantments prevent the Egg from gaining a foothold in here. Which means if it wants to continue to communicate with its people, its people have to stay out.” With that, he pushes the gates, and they swing open with a horrendous creak.

“That would hardly stop Dream,” he remarks, and Eret inclines his head, conceding the point.

“True,” he says, “but to be fair, I’m not sure that gates would do much good to that end, either, whether we’re watching them or not. Better to be as well rested as we possibly can be.”

He remembers Dream’s appearance last night, his appearance and swift disappearance, and says nothing. Eret is right, of course; the highest walls and toughest gates and sharpest watchers all mean nothing in the face of someone who can go anywhere he pleases with a thought.

“You hear that, Wil?” Phil says, just a little too loudly. “Rest. Rest is important.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” he mutters, and at the same time, Ranboo starts asking about whether these enchantments can be applied to people as well, and he lends half an ear to that conversation, because that would be very useful. Eret tells him that Tubbo’s been experimenting, but even getting the wards up around the castle was a trial, so he’s not sure when they’ll be able to do much else, or whether any other breakthroughs will be in time to be useful, even with Fundy now helping, and—

There it is again.

(he should have done this sooner, should have done this before hesitance turned to outright avoidance, and for all Phil’s faults as a parent at least he has reason for what he’s done, reason and a willingness to face them now, and that is something that he evidently lacks, and his heart is caged by his own cowardice, and he doesn’t know what to expect from this and he hates not knowing what to expect, how to plan for it)

(there is no plan in the world that will help him right now)

Eret leads them into the castle, and it is warm and well lit, but it does nothing to assuage the chill settling in his bones.

“Most everyone’s down the hall there,” Eret says, pointing, “and I think I’ve got towels somewhere if you want to dry off—”

“Forget about towels,” Tommy interrupts, “where’s Tubbo?”

“He’s set himself up on the second floor,” Eret says. “If you want, I can—”

Predictably, Tommy’s already off, his feet slapping against the floor with wet squelches.

“I think the rest of us will take you up on the towels,” Phil says. “Particularly Ranboo, you still good there?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Ranboo says. “Um, my armor protects me pretty well, so I’m good. But um, yeah, towels might still be a good idea.”

“Great. If you’ll follow me, then—”

He can put this off no longer. He grabs Eret’s arm, cutting him off.

“Is Fundy with Tubbo?” he asks.

For a moment, Eret is silent. He doesn’t particularly like the expression he’s making, somewhere between realization and pity. He does not need pity, doesn’t know what to do with it, and he especially doesn’t want it from Eret, of all people. Everyone else is silent, still, and he can feel their gazes on him like spotlights.

“Last I knew, yes,” Eret says.

“Does he know?”

He wonders if he should elaborate, but Eret doesn’t seem to need him to.

“He does. It, ah, wasn’t exactly broken to him in the softest way. Nobody was actually aware that the news needed to be broken at all, so I believe Puffy brought it up somewhere along the way here. I’m—not sure of the details.”

He doesn’t know whether that means Eret actually doesn’t know the details,

(doesn’t know how his son reacted to the return of his father, whether there was any happiness at all or just shock, perhaps betrayal, perhaps anger, perhaps perhaps perhaps he could have avoided this if he’d taken a little more responsibility from the start but now here he is and here they are)

or whether he’s sparing him them. He doesn’t know which he would prefer. If it matters.

“Alright,” he says, even if it’s the furthest thing from it. “I’ll be up there, then. Don’t wait for me.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he’s turning on his heel and following after Tommy, even though it would have been wiser to ask for the specific room. He’s not feeling very wise at the moment. If he ever was wise. He doesn’t think he can say that he’s ever had a claim to wisdom. He thought that he was wise when he was running his own country, and look where that got him. Him, and everyone else.

He climbs up the stairs. Keeps his back straight. His head held high.

(it is habit to draw on the general’s role for strength since that was when he was strongest but is that not what caused so many of the problems in the first place? the general leads, wins, considers people in terms of numbers rather than names, and personal relationships fall to the wayside)

It’s the same room that he found Tommy and Tubbo talking in yesterday. The same room where he lingered outside the door rather than moving on, absorbing words that were not meant for his ears, old hurts that have their roots in him and his actions, that he is not sure he will ever be able to heal, to make up for. For a moment, he allows himself to do the same thing, stands just outside and listens to their voices. They’re easier to hear; the door hangs open rather than closed, likely from Tommy’s entry. Their voices overlap, Tommy talking over Tubbo and then vice versa as they both try to explain what’s happened in their day of separation, and Fundy—

Fundy is there, too, chiming in every now and again. He sounds—Wilbur isn’t sure how he sounds. Pleased to be talking to the other two, perhaps. Beyond that, he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know.

(it’s a question you must ask yourself, whether you know your son at all, because you remember all too clearly cradling him in your arms and holding him close and vowing to protect him to see him safe no matter the cost but he grew older as children do and the cost was too steep too steep to pay for you looked at him and saw a child still for though he grew up too quickly he did grow up and your heart was too weak to accept it so is there any wonder that he came to resent you came to chafe under the watch of a man who could not see him for who he was and who he tried so hard to be)

(is there any wonder that he would go to such lengths to escape your shadow)

He steps forward. That’s all it takes, to be standing in the doorway. And there he stays, arrested by the sight in front of him.

The room is intended to be a guest bedroom, clearly. There is a large, plush bed, several items of furniture: a dresser, a nightstand, a desk and several chairs, bookshelves along one wall. But the desk goes unused; books and papers are scattered across the floor, apparently without order or reason to the arrangement. Tommy has situated himself on the bed, still dripping with rainwater, bouncing up and down and wildly gesticulating as he talks—he’s saying something about the god, now, and how it’s such a shame that he didn’t get to talk to it, because he would’ve gotten them to help in no time at all—and Tubbo is talking at the same time, whenever he can get words in, shoving old papers in Tommy’s face and explaining what they mean, as if Tommy will understand any of it. Fundy brought these materials with him, evidently, brought all the dreamon-hunting things that remained in his possession according to the rapid-fire words out of Tubbo’s mouth, and Fundy is there. He’s there. Sitting on the floor, three books open in front of him, watching Tommy and Tubbo with rapt attention, jumping in whenever Tubbo needs help explaining something, and asking Tommy questions in the same breath.

He stands there. Watching. They all seem so comfortable with each other. It feels wrong to disturb that.

But—

“—and his hair’s gone all weird now,” Tommy is saying, and he winces. “I’ll bet he’s not telling us everything that happened. Hair doesn’t just do that. It looks so fucking weird, but not like, bad weird, you know? I guess that’s what you get for shouting at god, am I right, fellas? Though if I were to shout at god, god simply would not be able to do anything to me, as I am too cool and powerful.”

“That—why does that sound like something he would do? Yelling at a god. Of course he did, that—” Fundy mutters, and Wilbur has no hope of interpreting his tone. “But he’s, like—he’s okay? And he’s here?”

“Yeah, he’s—” And Tommy happens to glance at the door. They lock eyes. “Um. Here. Hi, Wilbur.”

Tubbo turns to look. Fundy does as well, raising his head sharply and visibly flinching in the same motion, and Wilbur thinks that his heart flinches, too. If hearts can flinch. They can certainly stutter. Perhaps that’s close enough.

“Hello,” he says. Inadequate. Completely inadequate.

“Oh, you’re right,” Tubbo says after a second. “It does kind of look weird, but not bad weird. Just sort of interesting. Neat. Hi, Wilbur, did you have a good time yelling at god?”

Tubbo has a unique kind of frankness. It’s refreshing, and he appreciates the effort to alleviate the tension. If that’s even what he’s doing.

“I don’t know if good is the word I’d use,” he says. “It happened. It was a thing. Have you had a good time doing magic? If that’s the term?”

As he speaks, Fundy rises to his feet. Slow, cautious.

“Yeah, that’s the word,” Tubbo says. “It’s been going really well, actually. I wasn’t sure if I’d remember how to do any of this stuff, but Fundy brought all of the books with him when Puffy brought him over, so that’s been really helpful. There’s still nothing in here about killing the thing, but we’ve kept looking. There’s probably plenty of other useful stuff. Actually, that reminds me.” He turns back to Tommy. “I wanted to show you how we protected the whole castle. You probably saw some of the enchantments on your way in, but it’s really cool, come on.” He tugs on Tommy’s hand, and Tommy allows himself to be led, and before Wilbur can react, they’re brushing past him on their way out of the room. “See you in a bit, Wilbur!”

He glances after them, and then back into the room. The room where Fundy now stands, alone.

Tubbo definitely knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Hi, Fundy,” he says.

“Hey, Wil,” Fundy answers.

He looks older than Wilbur remembers, even through Ghostbur’s relatively new perception. But then, Ghostbur would not have noticed the new lines carved into his face, the bags beneath his eyes, his fidgeting, closed-off demeanor. He’s shifted into a more human form for the moment, though fox ears stick out from underneath his hat; that, at least, has not changed. He is capable of appearing fully human, but he scarcely ever does. Wilbur always thought that it was a way of staying connected to a mother that he barely got to know.

But perhaps that’s not it at all. Perhaps he shouldn’t presume anything.

“So,” Fundy says, after a long stretch of silence. “You’re, um. You’re back.”

“I’m back,” he agrees.

(the awkwardness is like a rock settled in his throat and it shouldn’t be this way shouldn’t be this way at all but they’re in too deep and it’s all gone too far and some of the last words he spoke to his son were to disown him and he still doesn’t know whether he truly meant it or not in that moment but that hardly matters when the words were said regardless of the intent)

“Right,” Fundy says. “Right. And you’ve been back for a while. Tubbo said it’d been a couple of weeks.”

Is that right? He thinks back, calculating, and decides it must be.

“I suppose it has been,” he says, and that is his cue to follow up with an apology, but the words get caught in a vice, squeezed and choked to nothingness, and silence falls between them again. Fundy shifts his weight back and forth between his feet, his eyes darting to and fro, never landing on his face for very long.

“Okay,” he says at length. “I guess—I don’t really know what else I expected.”

It’s bitter and sarcastic and resigned all at once. He winces.

“Fundy—”

“I mean, I guess I knew,” Fundy continues. “I knew that I wouldn’t—that you wouldn’t come for me if you ever came back. So it’s—I mean, it’s fine, Wil. I don’t even need you, anyway. I’ve been doing really well on my own. So it doesn’t matter.”

“That’s not—”

“But it is, though, isn’t it? You could’ve—you could’ve come and found me, right? I wasn’t that far.” His voice has lowered in volume, as if he’s talking to himself more than he is to him. “I wasn’t that far, so you could’ve—but you didn’t, and that’s kind of par the course, isn’t it? For you to come back to—back to life, and not even send me a message. But I guess nobody else did, either. It’s fine.”

The vice releases, torn apart by his mounting desperation.

(too little, too late)

“I’m sorry, Fundy,” he says. “I should’ve told you sooner.”

“Okay then, why didn’t you?” Fundy replies, and his tone rises in pitch again, becoming high, almost frantic.

There are so many ways he could reply. He could say that it slipped his mind. That would be damaging, hurtful, would ruin any hope of fixing their relationship, but it would be at least partially the truth; he thought about it, but infrequently, and he always dismissed it as a task to be tackled later. He could say that he wanted to take it slow. That would be slightly more of a lie, though not a complete falsehood; interacting with the other people of the server, especially in the first few days, has come far less easily to him than it once did. It probably says something that he includes his own son in that assessment.

He could say that he’s a coward. That, perhaps, would be the most truthful of all.

(for in many things you are not the coward that you think you are but in this in this it is true is apt because you know you hurt him sorely did the one thing that a parent should never do to a child caused him so much pain and you knew it and you know it and you could not face him could not bring yourself to own up to it and that is cowardice to not face this fault of yours as you have faced the others that is cowardice and cowardice can be overcome and it is not the end is not a death blow but call it what it is for it is cowardice and if you are to make up for it you must face the flaw in yourself without the gilded lies)

“I wanted you to come back,” Fundy says, and he realizes he’s taken far too long to respond, and Fundy’s expression has fallen. “I wanted you back so damn badly, even if I was never really sure why. I guess maybe I hoped that if you came back you’d start to care about me again.”

“I do care about you,” he manages, his voice a weak, pathetic thing. “I do care, Fundy.”

(and he wants to say my little champion my little champion if you believe nothing else then believe this believe that I love you and I always have even in the midst of all my darkness even as I fell I could not despise you no matter what I said I have loved you always even though I failed you I love you please do not doubt)

(he doesn’t say it)

“I want to believe you,” Fundy says. “But see, the thing is, if I do, it’ll turn out that you’re lying to me. Either that, or you’ll change. You—that’s what you do. And I need you—I need you to make up your mind, whether you care about me or not, because I can’t keep doing this. And I’m so—I’m pissed, Wilbur, really, I am. You blew up my home.”

There is no excuse that will provide an escape from this.

“I did.”

(an ending a denouement a grand finale and it was your symphony forever unfinished but you forgot that others made up the orchestra and you forget it still though you are reminded sometimes in the shadows in Tommy’s eyes and the chips in Tubbo’s horns and now in the tremor in your son’s voice as he tells you what you took from him what you stole when you made an ending of it all and it was yours but it was not yours alone)

Fundy jerks back, as if he hadn’t expected him to say it so starkly.

“Just like that, huh?” he says.

“I—”

“You know what?” Fundy says, overriding him. “I don’t really want to hear it right now. I’m so done with this. I’ll see you later. I guess.”

He steps forward, and

(an image: Fundy tottering toward him on chubby, unsteady legs, toddler’s face in a wide open, gap-toothed smile, Fundy running toward him to show him his new redstone invention, child’s face beaming in pride, Fundy sprinting toward him and trailing a flag behind him, grinning and victorious, and they have done it, they have done it, the nation is theirs and all will be well, and his son will be safe, and he wraps Fundy up in his arms and hugs him, holds him safe and close, his child, his beloved child)

he is frozen as Fundy steps past him and out of the doors. And he is frozen as he listens to his footsteps retreat, at a walking pace at first and then quicker and quicker as they fade, as Fundy runs from him. He stares into an empty room, and he is

(cold)

frozen.

“So, I’m guessing that didn’t go so well.”

It’s what he needs. An out, a way to cover over the churning mess of emotions in his chest, a road past all of that and right into exasperation, irritation.

“Shut the fuck up, Schlatt,” he says, pulling together all the shreds of composure that remain to him. “Where have you been?”

“Around,” Schlatt says, and drifts into view. He has the ability to go straight through him, but Wilbur notes that he doesn’t, that he dodges around him in the space left open in the doorway to come in front of him, surveying the papers in the room apathetically. “I keep going to do stuff and forgetting that I fucking can’t. Came here after whatever the fuck that was last night. You wanna give me an explanation there? I’m not pining away so much that I’m hallucinating your face, gorgeous as it is.” He pauses. “Your hair looks fucking stupid, by the way. It’s also wet, in case you didn’t know that.”

He feels some of the tension drain from him. This, at least, is familiar ground. Barbed words and sarcastic compliments, their old song and dance. He can exist in this space for a few minutes. Wrestle his emotions back under control.

“Thanks,” he says dryly. “If you really want to know, I spoke to a god and got shown some of the secrets of the universe, so that’s probably what that was.”

Schlatt pauses. “Is that all,” he says, in a half-laughing, half-incredulous tone that indicates he has no idea what to do with that.

He tilts his head, and wonders what else he should tell him. Because he saw him, there, of that he is sure, saw him while he was caught between the starlight and the void, as the god wound him back up and returned him to his body. He saw Schlatt, and more than that, he saw

(or felt, perhaps, because he was without eyes, and felt is not the right word either but it is closer, closer)

the connection between them, binding them together like a cat’s cradle, the threads of their existence tangled up in each other, and he is certain, now, of why Schlatt is here as well, why Schlatt is here but not solid. Because the god reached and the god grabbed and the god pulled, and the god pulled more than they meant to but less than they ought to have done, and this is the result: one man resurrected and the second tugged along, unintentionally and thus set adrift, tied to the first but with no form of his own.

Schlatt is mixed up in this through no fault of his own,

(for once)

when Wilbur knows that he, like him, would rather have remained in the void. So he sighs, and reaches along the tether, reaches along the rope that connects them soul to soul, and it is easy to find now, easy to touch upon with intention now that he knows what it is, why it is there.

(now that the universe hums in the back of his mind, now that he can hear the stars’ song, just barely beyond his conscious perception)

Schlatt lets out a surprised grunt as his feet hit the floor, and he staggers, almost losing his balance. Right away, Wilbur can feel the drain on his own energy, his lifeforce, perhaps, and now he knows the reason for that, too—Schlatt has none of his own, so to be made present and real, he must share his, must send it down the line, and a few days ago, he would have struggled to figure out how to do that. But now, it feels like the simplest thing in the world. For a time, at least.

“I’m willing to chat about it for a bit,” he says, and Schlatt stares at him, flexing his fingers.

“Holy shit,” he says. “So can you just—do this now?”

He bares his teeth. Schlatt will take it for a challenge.

“Let me tell you about it,” he says, and Schlatt arches a brow. But he stays, standing amongst the papers and the mess.

This is something familiar. This is a half hour of conversation that is charged in an entirely different way. This is someone with whom he shares a bitter past, and likely a bitter future, but he doesn’t have to watch himself, doesn’t have to wonder what wounds he’s caused him, doesn’t have to confront anything within himself.

He’s self-aware enough to realize that he’s running away, a bit, with this. Seeking a distraction. Trying to banish the look on Fundy’s face from his mind. But the others will survive without him for a few more minutes, and even besides, Schlatt offers him something that he wants, that he needs. Schlatt will listen to him, and he will judge him, but he will not pity him.

So Wilbur tells Schlatt about meeting a god.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

IM BACK! here’s a quick little piece I wrote yesterday! we love a good dad!harry hehe

wc: 2492

tw: mentions of anxiety, anxiety.

masterlist

Parenting was definitely hard.

Besides the happiness and joy a child can bring into people’s lives, it was definitely hard. It was like a job; like work. Being a mother was tough. Having been one for only three months, you’re still going through the withdrawals of the pregnancy. The body aches that went straight to your bones and muscles from carrying a whole baby inside of you for 9 months. Not to mention the lack of sleep.

The word ‘lack’ and ‘sleep’ in the same sentence made you want to cry.

It’s been obvious that you haven’t gotten any sleep, especially during the pregnancy. When your baby began peeking through your belly, you had to make some new adjustments to your sleeping positions. Your normal sleep position that lulled you to sleep was laying on your stomach, but for obvious reasons, you couldn’t do that anymore. Laying on your side was your second favorite position, so it had done well enough.

But there were some nights where you would lie awake until 3 a.m, hoping to get an ounce of sleep. You envied your husband and his ability to sleep so quickly, and whenever and wherever.

You just wanted sleep.

Now that your little love is three months old, you somewhat finally got time to catch up on your sleep. Of course, with the help of Harry.

He’s been by your side and supporting you ever since, and your heart was so full of love for him and your baby. He endure the whining that came from your mouth, the anger in your eyes when you were annoyed when something didn’t go your way, or annoying look on your face when he came too close when you wanted some space, but minutes later, you would waddle over to him and ask for some cuddles, saying your sorry.

Not only did you go through things physically and emotionally, Harry did as well. He put up with you, that’s for sure.

Now with Harry being the best husband and father there is, whenever your little love woke up in the middle of the night crying her eyes out, needing a nappy change or some food or cuddles, Harry would take care of it. You would slightly wake up, peeking your head up and ready to get out of bed, but Harry was already up and out of bed, telling you to sleep. And you sleepily smiled back at him and plopped your head back on the pillow.

But you had felt bad. You wanted Harry to earn some sleep as well, and you didn’t want him doing all the work. He would tell you that it is 100% okay and that you deserved some rest as well, knowing that you haven’t been able to sleep for practically a whole entire year.

So at dinner, you told Harry how you felt.

“Harry?”

“Yes?” He says in his baby voice as he was feeding the little love.

“I feel bad.” You say nervously. He looks up from his baby and puts his focus on you.

“What do you feel bad for, baby?” You sigh, putting down your fork.

“I feel bad because…” you trail off, nervous you’re going to sound stupid.

“Hey,” he reaches for your hand to hold it, stroking your soft hand with his thumb, “you can tell me anything, you know that right? Anything you say isn’t stupid.” He says as if he’s read your mind.

“It’s just that… I feel bad because you’re always waking up in the middle of the night to take care of our little love. And before you say it’s okay and that I deserve some rest, it’s not okay to me. You deserve some sleep too, and I can’t have you doing all the work.” You look at him with glossy eyes, not knowing why you’re about to cry. Damn hormones making you feel all crazy.

Harry looks at you intently and he sees your watery eyes. He knows well that when you express yourself, you truly mean every word of it. So, he knows not to argue and instead nods his head in agreement, although he disagrees with you. “Okay, what do you want to do? Limit my wakings?” He pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses it gently. Your little love is looking up at her father, probably wondering why he stopped feeding.

“How about for tonight, I get this little munchkin when she cries? I’ll put the baby monitor on my side and I’ll put it softly so only I’ll be able to hear it.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want then okay.” You smile at him appreciatively.

“Thank you, Harry.” This time, you’re being his hand to your lips, kissing his skin softly.

“Of course, my love.” He squeezes your hand and continues feeding the little one.

You and Harry settled in bed, cuddling one another and kissing each other’s skin innocently saying goodnight to each other in the pecks of the lips; something that helped drift you two to sleep sometimes. And luckily, it was one of those nights.

During the night, you and Harry had found a way to untangle from each other, leading to sleeping on opposite sides while not holding one another in each other’s arms.

Harry was sleeping on his side and you on yours, and it was the soft crackle from the baby monitor that started, but it didn’t seem enough to wake you up. You had placed the baby monitor in the space between the bedside table and the bed, resting the monitor on the frame. You had turned it down to a low medium volume so only you would be able to hear it, not Harry. But it still wasn’t enough to wake you up.

The only time you opened your eyes was when soft light was creeping through the blinds and you looked at the time that read 6:05 a.m, and you lazily smiled, thinking that your little love had slept through the whole night.

You turn to face Harry, only to find the bed empty. Sheets wrinkled and the blanket pushed off. You place your hand on his pillow and his side of the bed, not wanting to get up just yet, finding it cold, meaning that he’d been up for a while. With your brows furrowed, you get out of bed and put on your silk robe, walking towards your baby’s room to find Harry in the comfortable loveseat with the little munchkin in his arms, both of them asleep. With confused thoughts, you gently tap him, causing him to easily stir and wake up.

“Morning.” He says groggily. You lean down to place a kiss on his head and one to your daughter.

“Hey. How long have you been up?” You ask curiously.

“Since 3.” Your eyes widen and step back a little to look at him to see if he’s joking with you.

“W-What?”

“Yeah.” His face remains neutral and you don’t know if he’s not mind or he’s really good at hiding it.

“Baby…”

“It’s fine.” He brushes off.

“No, it’s not! The baby monitor was next to me and I still didn’t hear it!” Tears sting your eyes, not believing you did this. “I mean, did you hear the monitor?”

“No, but this one was crying for, what I’m guessing, a while so she progressively got louder and louder, and she’s coming down with something.” He says honestly, and it’s not to make you feel bad, it’s the truth. But you can’t help but feel horrible.

The little love was asleep and comfortable in his arms, and you walked back to yours and Harry’s room before sobbing. Tears littered your face and you couldn’t seem to stop. You climb in bed and pull the covers all the way up to your chin, feeling like it’s the only thing that can comfort you.

So many thoughts swirl your mind as the tears keep coming and the muffled sobs don’t stop. Harry walks back into the room and finds you facing away from him on your side. He can see your body shaking and his eyes soften. He was angry at you minutes prior, he was just so exhausted that he didn’t mean to be so short with you.

Harry climbs in bed and scoots to your side, pressing his chest against your back, and wraps his arms around your shaking frame. He kisses your shoulder and the back of your neck, hoping it’ll bring you comfort and your cries die down. Harry doesn’t say anything and holds you for a few minutes.

Once your sobbing was coming to an end and your breathing was controlled, he’d thought you fell asleep, and that hurt him knowing that you cried yourself to sleep, but you turned your body in his hold to face him.

Your eyes were red and swollen, cheeks damped, and there was probably snot coming out of your nose. You knew all of this and thought it was the most unattractive thing Harry had laid his eyes on, but he can’t help to love you even more.

You both look at each other for a minute, studying each other’s expression, and not knowing who’s going to say the first word.

“I’m sorry.” You start and put your forehead on his chest, not wanting to look him in the eye as you felt so embarrassed.

“Why’re you sorry?” Harry genuinely asks.

“I’m such a horrible mother.” You say as you breathe deeply, not wanting to have another breakdown because honestly, your eyes are tired from it.

“Nonsense-” Harry is quick to say, but you interrupt him.

“I’ve failed our little love and I failed you. I wanted you to get more sleep and not do all the work, and the one time you agree, I don’t wake up! And she was in his crib for god knows how long, crying her little heart out because she needed me, anyone to comfort her and cuddle her, and I couldn’t do that!” Another set of tears had slid down your face and on Harry’s chest. He holds you tighter, rubbing his hand down your back. He wanted to say something so bad, but he knew that you needed to vent and let it all out, so once you’re done, he’ll jump in and disagree with you.

“I’m so fucking selfish that I didn’t even think about how deep of a sleeper I am. I’ve always been ever since I was younger too; I slept through an earthquake, thunderstorms, and I didn’t wake up. If I had just thought to put the volume louder in case I didn’t hear her wailing then you could’ve gotten to her and taken care of her sooner, and then she wouldn’t feel like I’ve abandoned her. You’ve been taking care of her so much that you had to feed her formula instead of me breastfeeding her because I can’t get up for shit because I’m too tired, and now she’s getting sick because of me!” It was like your last statement was a realization on how and why she’s getting sick, you’re shaking in his arms, feeling like a horrible person. Your hands claw at his naked skin, needing something to grasp on.

Now she’s just driving herself insane and overthinking, he thinks. But he understands that your anxiety can drive you up the wall sometimes (or most times), and he through the years, he learned to hold you through it all and not to talk until you’re done because if he talks, then it’ll only get worse. It had happened twice in the early stage of your relationship when he didn’t know what to do.

“I’m such a fail for a mother that I couldn’t do a simple task like wake up, but instead I was just thinking about myself and how I don’t want our baby to despise me right now or ever. Like who does that!” You bury your face in his neck, latching onto his shoulders to bring him closer than possible.

Harry thinks you’re done speaking when you’ve just laid in his arms in silence, trying to control your breathing again as he whispers a string of ‘shh’ in your ear.

For what seems like forever, you pull back, and Harry looks down at you. You don’t say a word because you’ve ran out of things to say and you really don’t want to talk anymore.

“Lovie, listen to me, okay? I want you to hear every word I have to say.” You only nod and usually Harry would want a vocal validation like he does in bed, but he knows you’re all of words. “Nothing about you is a failure. You’ve had a tough year carrying our baby, not getting any sleep, and dealing with the hormones. I don’t blame you for anything at all if you want to get some sleep. I know you’re a deep sleeper, we’ve been together for years and you don’t think I know?” He says the last part teasingly. “I should’ve had a monitor on my side too, so I’m to blame.”

You shake your head, disagreeing with his last statement. Harry continues on, “that little baby is okay, and she loves you so much. I love you so much. Lovie, we’ve only been parents for 3 months and we’ve got so much to learn. We’ve got our whole lives to learn how to take care of her. But that does not mean that one simple mistake means you’re a failure at parenthood. It doesn’t work like that. You’re the best mother I could ever ask for to carry my children, you carried her and protected her for 9 months; fuck, you’re already the strongest person ever. Even if you weren’t pregnant, I’d say you’re the strongest. Understand me?” You nod your head and pull him in for a tight hug.

“Don’t doubt yourself or sell yourself short, okay?” He says with his lips to your head as if he wants to engrave those words into your brain.

“O-Okay.” You say softly against his chest as if you’re reassuring his heart that you’re okay.

“I love you, you know that right?”

“I do. I love you more, you know that right?”

“I do.”

He understands why so you’re upset, why you’re crying so much. Why you probably think you’re the most unattractive thing at the moment with your face being a mess with snot dripping down. But he still thinks you’re the most beautiful and strongest woman there is, inside and out. And he couldn’t help but love you even more.

The two of you lay there, wrapped around each other’s warmth, bringing you both the comfort and reassurance you two need. You both drift off to sleep, taking a quick nap before one of you hears the crackle from the monitor to take care of your little love.

talk to me!

[bubblesuga]

Oblivious To Adoration - 4

Summary: After an intense night of drunken sex, Jungkook realizes he wants more. When he suggests an idea to you, you were shocked. However, who were you to say no to Mr. Jeon Jungkook?

W/C: 2,165

Prev Part - Next Part 

Warnings: angst, mature language, fluff

You weren’t sure when it started to rain. All you knew was as you sat on the swing at the park in the center of your apartment complex, you felt a shiver run through your spine. 

The sky was a dull grey, an intense crack of thunder causing you to jump on the swing. The chains rattled around you, the few kids who played in the field in front of you rushing into the safety of the breezeways as it started to pour. You couldn’t feel the raindrops wetting your hair, the only thing your body could process was the horrendous thud of your heart inside your rib cage. 

It hadn’t been long since you talked to Jungkook in Namjoon’s apartment. Maybe a few days, you weren’t sure. You felt so conflicted that you weren’t sure what to do about everything, or how to sort through the maze of that is your mind. It seems like every time you thought you found a solution, you would over think it to the point where nothing seemed plausible. 

On one hand, you could admit your feelings for Jungkook and live a long and happy life together. It’s the option you wanted the most, because everything Jungkook described was exactly what you wished for. Imagining him in his boxers, humming a song to himself while you sleepily patter into the kitchen and wrap your arms around his waist... 

On the other hand, it could end badly. You didn’t have the best track record with dating, and every time you thought it was going great, they would cheat. That’s not to say you’d thought Jungkook would cheat, but you’ve never had an example of a healthy relationship. Your parents’ constant back and forth and watching your friends get their hearts broken over and over again only caused you to stray away from commitment. 

You wished so badly that you could just go with the flow, to just try, but your anxiety prevents you from doing so. 

“(Y/N)?” You hear a call from the direction of your apartment. 

You tore your eyes away from the sky, gripping the chain tighter while you turn to look. To your surprise, Jimin stands on the grass with an umbrella in his hand. Silently, he makes his way over to you to and grabs your hand. You allow him to guide you, not realizing how much your shivering until you’re back in the comfort of your apartment. 

“Who thought it could rain so hard in the summer?” Jimin chuckles, shaking off the water from the umbrella then looking at you with a smile. 

“Okay, now tell me what happened.” Jimin sits beside you, watching as you curl yourself beneath the throw blanket from the back of your couch. 

You shrug, “I thought you already knew.” 

“I knew about the beginning. I pushed Jungkook to make a move and I shouldn’t have.” Jimin leans back, running a hand through his dark brown locks. He looks stressed, dark bags beneath each of his eyes. Concealer covered them slightly, a sad attempt to hide his exhaustion.

“Why do you say that?” You question, gnawing anxiously at your bottom lip. 

Jimin turns to you, a sad smile on his face, “Jungkook hasn’t talked to me. I wracked my brain for hours trying to figure out what I could have possibly done wrong then I realized it was probably my sad attempt at pushing him out of his comfort zone.” 

To Jimin’s surprise, you let out a laugh before burying your face in the pillow on your thighs. Before you knew it, your laughter turned into a sob and Jimin was quick to comfort you. His hand drew soft circles between your shoulder blades while you quieted your sobs with the pillow.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“No, that’s not it,” you look up, wiping the tears from your face, “I just feel fucking stupid for coming between your guys’ friendship. I shouldn’t have agreed to anything in the first place.” 

Jimin’s pitiful attempt to comfort you seemed to do more harm than good when you begin to wipe more silent tears that slipped out of your eyes. He sighs, pulling you to his chest and resting his chin on the top of your head while you continue to cry. 

“Jungkook told me he wants to be with me,” you finally start, using your sleeve to wipe beneath your nose, “and I got scared.” 

You can feel Jimin nod above you, his hand moving from your back to your arm, “Why are you scared?” 

You swallow, not sure how to put into words exactly what you’re feeling. Deflection seemed to be your best bet, “You don’t seem surprised that Jungkook told me he wants to be with me.” 

“Because I’m not,” he answers truthfully, “that man has liked you since the beginning and we all could see it. I’m more surprised that you couldn’t see it.” 

“I guess I’m oblivious.”

Jimin watches you pull away, giving you a small smile. You are oblivious. Jimin is keenly aware that Jungkook is madly in love with you, from the moment he saw you. There was something different about the way you carried yourself that had Jungkook on his knees begging for you, but only in his mind. He opened himself up to Jimin a lot, and Jimin couldn’t see how Jungkook telling you how he feels could have ended badly. 

He didn’t take you to be the type to run, and he had to figure out why. 

“You are. Now tell me why you’re scared.” Jimin presses gently. He has such a calming voice, you felt your chest loosen with every word, ridding you of your anxiety. 

“I’ve never had an example of a healthy relationship,” You stutter your way through your admission, feeling your throat choke up, “I’m gonna fuck it up with him. I’m gonna inadvertently sabotage the relationship and then I will have lost my best friend, Jimin. He’s the one person that I want around forever and I know I’ll fuck it up.” 

Your ramblings came out clearer than your thoughts were, Jimin only listening intently to every word. As much as he enjoyed being the key advice giver of the friend group, there were times where he heart broke for his friends. 

“Why do you think that?” He says after a moment. 

“I don’t think I deserve this love.” 

Then it all makes sense. 

Your entire life you had blamed your inability to love on the fact that you weren’t sure what love is. Building up a wall and tearing it down repeatedly until you finally gave in and accepted the fact that maybe it just wasn’t meant for you. You weren’t ever going to be able to find someone who can love you until you find the ability to love yourself. 

However, you had found someone who loves you. Who’s willing to work with you, fight for you, until you love yourself as much as he loves you. Maybe the first step to loving someone else isn’t loving yourself, but rather finding someone you can learn to love yourself with. 

“(Y/N)...” Jimin trails off, feeling his own chest swell with pain while he looked at you, “you deserve every ounce of love he gives you. Fuck what happened with your parents, with your exes. How are you ever going to find the one if you’re not willing to work for it?” 

“I- I’ll text him.” 

~*~*~

Jungkook’s foot pressed onto the gas, switching gears and ramming his way through the intersection. 

As soon as he got your text, he was in his car. He hadn’t even thought about putting on shoes or pants, instead rushing out in nothing but his white t-shirt and boxers. Admittedly he regretted the decision once he noticed how wet the sidewalks were, and how cold the breeze was, but he didn’t care because you were finally ready to talk. 

Whether it end badly or well, he needed some sort of closure because he was an absolute mess without you. Namjoon had texted him repeatedly after you left his apartment, asking if everything was okay. Jungkook couldn’t respond, only sighing at the texts and locking his phone before trying to sleep. 

Then he kept that routine, waiting anxiously for your text. 

As soon as he pulled into your parking lot, he was opening his door and running down the breezeway. 

His fist lifts to knock on the door but he’s surprised when the door swings open before he could. 

“Hey.” Jimin says simply, patting Jungkook’s shoulder. 

He slips passed his friend, sending him a wink and disappearing around the corner of the hallway. 

Jungkook furrows his brows, stepping inside of your apartment and spotting you on your couch. He hesitantly moves further inside, shutting the door and turning to you. You look up at him, your eyes red but a sad smile on your face. 

“Should I mentally prepare myself for rejection?” He walks towards you, sitting far enough away from you to give you space but close enough to ease his anxiety from you being away from him. 

“No, honey.” You pat the spot beside you, signalling for him to move closer. 

Jungkook tries to ignore the way his heart races as he does so, but he can’t help the way he falls into your arms the minute you wrap them around him. He’s close to tears, your silent gesture enough to wipe away the fears that surrounded him for the past few days. Beckoning him closer, you allow him to  rest his head on your shoulder and he turns to wrap his arms tightly around you. 

The hoodie you wore was soft, and it smelled like you. He grins, trying to bite back tears. 

“Did you have enough time to think?” He asks, his voice slightly muffled against your shoulder. 

“I did. Jimin helped me out a bit too.” You explain, your earlier tears now gone and replaced with excitement for the future, but also a touch of uncertainty. 

“And?” 

“I’ll try this, but you have to promise me something.” Your hand had a mind of it’s own while you move it up to Jungkook’s head, your nails gently scratching his scalp. 

“Of course, anything.” Jungkook says immediately, relaxing even more in your arms. 

You lay both of you back on the couch, Jungkook cuddling into your side. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you felt at ease in this position, like you’re meant to be here. 

“If this doesn’t work out, we still have to be friends. I don’t want to lose you, Kookie, and I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all.” You explain. Jimin had taken the time to help you put into words what you were feeling. After you had texted Jungkook, you realized you didn’t know what to say. Jimin took your jumbled mess of words and made it sound like poetry, and you were thankful for that. Had Jimin not shown up today, you would still be moping around your apartment with no intent on contacting Jungkook just yet. 

Jungkook nods against you, “I’ll do anything, (Y/N).” 

“Okay,” you let out a shaky breath, “thank you.” 

Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean up, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek before taking his spot back on your chest. You feel the heat of his body radiating against you, a stark contrast to the cold rain you felt earlier. 

“So we’re doing this?” Jungkook asks. 

“Yeah.” You reaffirm, letting yourself relax properly for the first time in days. 

“So does this make you my girlfriend?” 

“If that’s okay with you.” 

Jungkook pulls his head off your chest, his eyes blown wild while he looks at you. Without a second thought, Jungkook presses a proper kiss to your lips. He swipes his tongue against your bottom lip, your lips opening for him immediately. His tongue explores your mouth while your hands fly to his hair. 

Something felt different about this kiss. You hadn’t gone into it with the intent of taking it further, only to feel his lips against yours. Jungkook chuckled into the kiss when he heard you sigh happily. 

When he pulls away, your eyes fly to his swollen upturned lips. He turns the smile into a smirk, “Okay, girlfriend.” 

“Ew, let’s not make that a habit.” You cringe, laughing under his gaze. 

“What? The title too much for you?” He questions. Though it came off jokingly, he had to swallow the feeling that you may only be agreeing to spare his feelings.

“No, but I like when you call me baby. Let’s stick to baby.” You explain, your chest fluttering while he smiles above you. 

Jungkook then stands abruptly, “To celebrate, I’m ordering pizza.” 

“Extra--” 

“Extra cheese, I know, baby.” He cuts you off, sending a wink your way and picking up his phone. 

Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all...