#sorry repost because his features were bothering me all day

[thumb-taks]

he's driving to batburger......... fill your stomach with justice....or whatever...

[criceofpain]

switch it up | park jongseong (reposted and edited)

featuring: enhypen's jake, heeseung, sunghoon, sunoo, and jungwon; stayc's yoon

synopsis: after you find your ex cheating with another guy, the quiet kid takes the opportunity to get closer to you. but the shocking part is, you never knew he could do a full 180 and be the most charming guy you've ever seen.

pairing: student!jay x student fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, a tinge of angst (and humor lol)

word count: 7418

warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), slut-shaming, usage of pet names, vaginal penetration, alcohol consumption, gamer rage (especially heeseung lol), male masturbation, degradation, fellatio, minimal impact play, implied violence, two-timing, cheating, jakehoon are gay, jay has too much porn vids on his laptop, yoon has warfreak tendencies, too much tekken references, too much time skips

Being popular in school had its own perks.

If people were asked what they’d do if they became the most popular person in year two for twenty-four hours, you’d get a vast range of answers from all of them. Fame, beauty, authority, and money–the possibilities are endless for a household name in one of the most prestigious universities in Seoul. The thing is, though, downsides will always be inevitable.

Thursday’s a typical work day for the student council’s president–you. A ton of paper stacks were waiting to be scanned and submitted to the council adviser, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get up and actually work on them. The adviser’s office was two buildings away from your location, and God, did you dread walking. Worse, you had to do it every week and without the help of your vice president. Bothering to find him would be a waste of time, either.

The sudden ring of your phone disrupts your train of thought, making you look up to check whoever was trying to test your patience at this hour. Jakey ♡, your phone screen reads. You heave a relieved sigh; it’s been three days since your boyfriend last called and it was messing with your momentum. Even overthinking was a waste of time and you hated it.

“Hi, love.” you mumbled, voice laced with exhaustion. “I'm glad you finally called.”

“Love, can we cancel our date?” Jake asks from the other line, and your face immediately contorts to a disappointed scowl.

Strange. He’s usually not the type to postpone plans at the last minute because he knew you despised that type of feat. As the student council president, the last thing you'd want is for someone to waste your valuable time.

“Suddenly?” you deadpan as you put your pen down and slowly spin in the swivel chair you sat on. “We’ve got everything planned out and now you wanna cancel?”

Jake sighs. “Coach called us for training. He’s been lenient on me for the past week, I can't afford another absence.”

“Oh.” you utter, at loss for words. “Long day ahead, huh?”

It was what you least expected, anyways. You stay still in your seat, disappointment filling your chest. You start to feel uneasy—you knew you’d never stand a chance against his monster of a coach. What can I do? Jake was the team’s striker which gained him maximum importance. Without him, the team would basically be a chaotic bunch. 

“Sorry.” he mutters apologetically. “I didn't want this to happen, really.”

“I know, I know.” you grumble, picking your pen back up and fixing your attention back to the papers you were reviewing. “Can I come after training, though? We should at least eat, like, ramyeon, tteokbokki or something."

A few seconds of silence fills the other line before Jake replies, "God, that sounds—fuck. That's irresistible. I hope Coach lets me off ‘cause his diet plan is seriously killing me.”

“I sure hope he does,” you roll your eyes as the image of a conceited middle-aged man with his stomach overflowing his pants. “unless he wants a big ‘fuck you’ from me for tiring you out. You gotta rest, love.”

He chuckles, causing a grin to tug your lips. “I love you. I know you’re a busy woman and you’ve probably got a lot on your plate right now. I'll hang up now, hmm?”

Your reply gets cut off by the sudden drop of the call, and another sigh leaves your mouth. 

Popularity was so exhausting for you. However, not everyone suffers from the syndrome; take Park Jongseong–who goes by “Jay” in school–as an example. The lad has finally gotten a taste of rest after coding what felt like a thousand HTMLs, now nibbling on a cob of corn with his other hand glued to his keyboard.

Why had I never thought of playing Tekken as a way of escaping the hell of school and the sight of students’ thirst for crowd validation before? As he fervently taps the keys of his laptop, the corner of his lip tugs into a slight smirk. He continuously lands hits on a random Kazuya he was matched with, not letting them rest as he uses his trump card–Jin Kazama’s ten-hit combo.

The silence breaks as Jay’s hearty laughter booms in the computer club room. He sighed triumphantly, propping his head on his intertwined hands. 

"I gotta tell Heeseung hyung about this.” Jay snickers, grabbing his phone from beside his laptop and speed dialing the number “5”. After a few rings, his friend finally picks up. “Ay, hyung! I got good news for you.”

“Man, fuck you!” Heeseung, the student council’s vice president hisses from the other line, annoyance evident in his voice. Before the younger can ask about why he had such a tone, the older interrupts, “You’re never gonna let me live, are you?”

“Whoa, whoa, chill out, hyung.” Jay chuckles in confusion. “It’s not like I’m gonna use the ten-hit combo on you, is it? What’s the matter?”

Heeseung clicks his tongue and scoffs, “Don’t you see what’s happened or are you playing dumb right now, Jongseong? Fucking look at your screen.”

Jay, although confused, obliges anyway. He looks back at his laptop screen with the rematch menu on display. After a good few seconds, he spots the username of his opponent and immediately gasps, loud enough for his friend to hear. He then breaks into laughter, this time louder and more provoking as he hears the bantering on his ear.

“What—don’t tell me you had no idea—Jay!” the owner of the username heeba_inu_1015 yelled, followed by a frustrated shout.

“Whoops, should’ve gone easy on you, then.” Jay teases, shrugging his shoulders. “No, seriously. I had no idea. This is what school frustration makes me do.”

“Well, at least you’re not the student council’s vice president.”

Jay snorts in disbelief. “Come on, it’s not that hard–” he cuts himself off. “Oh, you’ve got a point, though.”

Jay didn’t necessarily live in the shadows; he just didn’t like being the center of attention. Being an eye candy is the last thing he wanted. Sure, he’s got what it takes to be popular–he’s a CEO's son, filthy rich, and on the honor roll. His friends say he’s got some sick visuals, too. Despite all these, he’d prefer to just blend in with the crowd and not stand out as a resident introvert (not to be confused with being a pick-me boy; Papa Park raised him with manners).

“Still, fuck you.” Heeseung lets out his third scoff of the day. A female voice rambles in the background, on the verge of screaming as the vice president grumbles in dismay. Jay assumes it was the school council’s president calling him out for slacking. “I gotta go, though. Godzilla’s on the run and she’s unstoppable–hey, wait!”

Beep. The call ends, and Jay's me time continues. A chuckle leaves his mouth. That was the president? She’s unhinged as hell.

“What’s the president like?” he mumbles, putting his headphones back on and getting ready to start a new game. “I’d like to meet her.”

*

“Lee Heeseung, I’m giving you ten seconds to explain to me why you’re on Tekken when you’re supposed to be on duty.”

If looks could kill, your vice president could’ve died a slow, painful death by now. You try your best to keep your calm composure in front of your right-hand man while trying to suppress your anger, but the urge to lash out on him is just getting stronger. Heeseung, feeling intimidated, could only look down on the ground as he hears a disappointed sigh from you.

Fortunately, the school council’s secretary, Yang Jungwon, has informed you of the vice president’s whereabouts. You made sure to leave your pending tasks untouched before storming out of the council office and to the stockroom, where he was apparently taking his sweet time being a heavy load.

“Look, I’ve just finished my last game, Y/N, alright?” Heeseung raises his hands in defeat.  “I’m done. I’ll go and help.”

“Oh, you are definitely gonna go help Jungwon in the council’s office because I’m out of here.” you snap, unplugging the Ethernet wire connected to his gaming laptop. “There are waivers waiting for you. Get your ass up.”

“Alright.” he mutters, head hung low as he switches off his laptop. “I’m sorry.”

Without another word, you turn your back on him and walk out of the suffocating stockroom. How does he even stand the heat in there? Your steps get quicker as much as the psychological warfare you were having with yourself is getting worse. People are probably looking at me right now and think, why the hell is her face so sour? They wouldn’t know. They’re not the overworked, unpaid, “popular” student council president with a freeloader of a vice president and a midfielder boyfriend who’s just as popular.

You’ve been zoned out for the entirety of your trip back to the council office, but the sight of a familiar shoe sticking from one of the corridor posts shakes you awake. Your eyebrows furrow, wondering what would someone with skate shoes be doing in that spot at this hour when it’s inter-school olympics season. You take another set of steps before seeing a man’s back view with the jersey number 5 on it, and the scene that unfolds in front of you shakes your whole world.

Your boyfriend and the school’s most famous figure skater, Park Sunghoon, were kissing.

*

It has been a week since you found out that Sim Jaeyun was cheating on you and is gay.

You remember being rooted in your spot as you saw them eating each other’s faces. Screaming at them would be a waste of time. You feared wasting time the most, and crying in front of someone came in second. Instead of doing what someone normally does in these situations–screaming and bawling their eyes out, you land a slap on each of their faces with a shit-eating grin on your face before running to the nearest comfort room to cry.

You wouldn’t mind your boyfriend coming out of the closet and ending your relationship in good terms, but the fact that he’d been flirting–and probably fucking–around with a guy behind your back infuriated you.

You didn’t know how it came to this—you crying your heart out inside the club office as Heeseung finally took over and finished the rest of your work due to you not being able to properly open your swollen eyes. Even moving around was a pain in the ass. Jungwon works from the sidelines as well, and both of them didn’t dare speak a word to you unless spoken to. They knew better than to mess with a girl who’s got cheated on.

“Cabining trip’s tomorrow. You still going, noona?” Jungwon asks, eyes glued to his laptop screen as he types the minutes of the meeting for the past week. “We need you over there, Pres.”

“Hmm.” you reply, not having the energy to speak out a proper word as you blew your nose on a paper towel. Of course I’ll be there. What am I, a ghoster?

As Jungwon bombards you with questions, your replies are short and reserved, along the lines of “yeah”, “uh-huh”, and the like. How were you supposed to show yourself without shame knowing that your ex wasn’t into you anymore?

“Heeseung.” you croak out, getting a short “huh” as a response. “I need your help with something.”

“What’s it about, miss ma'am?”

You cringe at the nickname, throwing the empty box of paper towels along his way. “If you use that nickname on me again, I swear.” you hiss.

“Damn, calm down, will you?” Heeseung chuckles, barely dodging the box that almost hit his face. “What is it?”

You saunter your way towards the table where the two lads worked. propping your hands on the desk, You then look over at Jungwon who has his whole attention on his laptop, not bothering to pop into the conversation or listen to whatever you were about to say.

“You’re best friends with the adviser, right?” you whisper to Heeseung, to which he nods. “And I’m not. Wow. What am I president for, then?

“Touche.” he shrugs. “What about him?”

“This could be fucked up but,” you lean in to whisper on his ear. “Can you beg him to sneak drinks for the adults?”

Your eyes screw shut in embarrassment, in disbelief of the words that just came out of your mouth. You’re better than this, Y/N. 

“Yes.” Heeseung lets out a dramatic gasp, nodding vigorously at your idea. “You had me at ‘drinks’, Y/N, come on. Spill!”

“Noona, you’re kidding, right? Why would you sneak drinks in–”

“Quiet, kid.” you cut Jungwon off. “I’ve got a breakup to get over. Let the adults have this.”

With that, Heeseung let out a dramatic gasp, nodding vigorously at your idea.

*

The day of the cabining trip has come, and it wasn’t the most enjoyable day for the student council so far. While the other kids were having the time of their lives, talking with their friends and not worrying about keeping the lines straight and the cabins quiet, you struggled to keep the students in order as you tapped the backs of those who made a commotion, or worse, those who made out in broad daylight.

To your relief, Heeseung was in charge of bag inspection, which meant drinks were allowed (unless one was not of legal age, of course). The students will just have to hide it from the other supervisors. Jungwon, along with the student council’s treasurer, Sunoo, were on room assignment duty, making sure to separate the guys and girls from each other. Getting pregnant on a school trip is the last thing anyone would want.

Meanwhile, Jay stands quietly as the line advances. He wasn’t really supposed to be going on this trip if it weren’t for his father insisting him to do so. Luckily, with Heeseung’s permission, he was allowed to bring his gaming laptop without you knowing. The vice president just hopes he wouldn’t get pulled by the ear again.

“God, I hope I get the top bunk.” Jay mutters, putting his bag on the desk for inspection.

“Gotta go fast, then.” Heeseung replied, probing the contents of his friend’s bag. He taps Jay’s shoulders after he’s done. “Man, I hope we’re roommates.”

“Heeseung, how's the inspection going?” you bellow over the crowd of students, craning your head to look for him.

As you and Heeseung scream at each other over the loud sounds in the cabins, Jay couldn’t help but steal glances at you. He did pass by you sometimes, but he hasn't really gotten the chance to step up and talk to you. What a waste. After news has spread that you got cheated on, he could imagine himself tackling you into a hug and giving you small forehead kisses in hopes to ease your pain. He had set his eyes on you ever since you were appointed as president, and he found you so pretty ever since. He just secretly hoped that Jake wouldn’t go begging for you to come back, or else he’d lose his mind.

His daydreaming stops when he bumped shoulders with someone whom he least expected–you. The two of you momentarily met each other’s eyes, and Jay swore he’d melt then and there if it weren’t for you turning away almost immediately. On the other hand, you wonder why he’s been stuck on his spot for a good minute, so you approach him cautiously.

“Uh, are you lost, perhaps?” you wave a hand in front of Jay’s face. “You seem to be spacing out, Jay.”

She knows me. Oh, my God, she just acknowledged me. His heart somersaults in his chest at the mention of his name. It rolled off of your mouth perfectly. 

It takes him five seconds to answer, “I’m good, thank you.”

You smile briefly at him, and he flashes one back. He walks silently, trying to suppress a shout from coming out of his mouth. You were always pretty to him, and that smile was the cherry on top. 

The first day of the retreat wasn’t really hectic, except for the fact that all of the students have to run ten laps all around the yard before they can even have a taste of breakfast. Despite the supervisors lurking around the whole site, you’ve taken brave sips on your bottle of soju, disguised as drinking water. You couldn’t help but see Jake and his new lover every time you had to lead a segment and meet face to face with everyone, and your chest would always clench. How the fuck is he so happy without me? If it weren’t for the other officers beside you, you would’ve wrestled Sunghoon without a doubt.

The second and third days would probably be the most boring of them all, but not for Jay.

His laptop keeps him company as he silently jerks off to porn videos, trying his best to stifle a groan to not wake up whoever was occupying the top bunk. He would’ve brought a fleshlight, too, but he figured it’d be too much for a school retreat. So he resorts to another option–a sock. 

He finishes without suspicion, and gets knocked out to sleep right after.

On the other side of the site, you sit awake in your bunk, finishing the last of the soju you’ve successfully hidden for days. You sigh, not feeling any signs of drowsiness as you stare in spaces. I should've seen this coming. You wanted to slap yourself for being so clueless. Hasn’t it come to you that Jake might be using soccer training as an excuse to meet up with Sunghoon instead of you?

“Y/N, you dumb bitch.” you spit out, grabbing your phone to dial Heeseung’s number.

After a few rings, he picks up. “What the fuck, Y/N, it’s 3 in the morning.” the lad grumbled as he tossed and turned in his bed. “You better give me a good reason for calling at this hour.”

“You got a laptop with you?” you ask. What a stupid question. “It's urgent business.”

“No, I don't, dummy.” he snaps, and his sudden change of tone takes you aback. “I thought you knew we can only bring phones.”

You sigh. Out of all times your council adviser demanded an accomplishment report from you, why now? At that moment, you even wished to switch bodies with Heeseung; he was the adviser’s best friend and not you. Despite you telling your superior that you haven’t brought your laptop, he didn't budge, even bringing up the drink-sneaking incident.

To say you were doomed would be an understatement.

“Why does your best friend put me in situations like this?” you whine, pulling your hair in frustration. “He knows I don't have my laptop at the moment! Tell me, does he have something against me? ‘Cause he better settle things with me. Damn it. Do you get me? Sometimes I just want to walk out on all of you because I’ve got the whole council on my back! i’m a human who has limits, too, for fuck’s sake! When do I quit? I can quit anytime and turn my back on this responsibility. You take over once this term ends–”

“Shut up. I'm at your door.”

You hitch a breath, hang up and climb out of your bunk. You silently open the door to see your vice president holding an open laptop in his hand, phone on the other. The lad passes the device on to you, praying that his friend doesn’t notice his laptop out of place when he wakes up.

“Hey, that ain’t mine, though. Be careful with that.” he says, and you scowl in suspicion.

“Thanks,” you smile slightly. “Though I thought I told you not to bring gadgets in the cabin–”

“Don’t ask, just…” he waves his hands frantically, avoiding the question. “I’ll get going.”

“Okay…?” your voice trails off, and you shoo Heeseung away. “You’re a lifesaver, by the way.”

Heeseung nods, jogging his way out as you close your cabin door. You didn’t bother to wonder whose laptop this was; the only thing in your mind was the report you had to finish.

In silence, you immediately get to work. With sips of water from time to time, you struggle to keep yourself awake as you type the needed information, word by word, making sure that it would be slap-worthy on your adviser’s face.

After two hours of staring and typing, you feel your eyes giving out and fingers straining as you move the document file to your flash drive, finally finishing your work.

“This motherfucker better not scold me tomorrow.” you mutter through clenched jaws, carefully ejecting the drive from God-knows-whose laptop. 

With slow hands, you close all of the windows you have used, even the tabs, making it look untouched as this was neither your laptop, nor Heeseung's. Whose is this, then? There wasn't a wallpaper in it, just the default one, and that made guessing a waste of time. Nonetheless, you make a mental note to thank the owner first thing in the morning for saving your desperate ass in such a critical situation. 

Before you can shut down the device, a particular folder on the desktop screen catches your attention, especially its name,

“Things I want to do to Y/N”

You squint in surprise, mouse cursor hovering over the folder. As much as you wanted to pry it open, you wanted to respect the privacy of the owner of the laptop, whoever they were. But this has my name on it. You shake your head, preparing for the worst to happen as you double-click on the folder. What you see next shocks you utterly, making your heartbeat rise as you check the name of the owner.

The laptop belongs to a Park Jongseong, with the folder containing porn videos.

In astonishment, you close the laptop with a loud thud, not bothering to shut it down properly or close the porn folder before you do. A series of knocks makes you jump and hit your head on the top bunk.

“Go to sleep, Y/N!” your bunkmate from the top grumbles.

What the fuck is going on? You sigh, wrapping yourself in a cocoon with your blanket.

*

It's the last day of the retreat, which means free time for all the students until the morning comes with no schedules to stick to. However, you were far from relaxed as last night’s events haven't left your mind until now. You didn’t know what to feel knowing that the quiet kid has been fantasizing about you, and in secret. Do you get mad, grossed out or flattered? Neither of them felt right and it messed up with your head so much. Worrying about it would be a waste of time.

Heeseung couldn’t help but notice you staring at Jay, who played basketball by himself from afar. You spaced out often, too, and it was so not like you to do so. Apparently, your efforts on acting normal outside while being a chaotic mess inside fail as you finally draw out a frustrated groan.

“Something wrong?” Heeseung asks. “You're zoned out pretty bad.”

“That report sucked the life out of me.” you reply monotonously, standing up from your seat, eyes not leaving Jay. “I'll meet you at the bonfire. I just need sleep.”

“Fine. I'll take over for you.”

You nod, trudging to your cabin in hopes to get some rest. However, once your body dips down the mattress, images of Jay hovering over you appear as you close your eyes. Shaking it off, you push a pillow against your face, muffling out a scream of annoyance.

On the other hand, Jay has been stealing glances from you as well, completely unaware of you seeing the deepest, darkest secrets he's kept hidden in his laptop.

After what felt like days of slumber, you were awakened by the noise of students outside of the cabins. hollers and shouts fill your ears as you get yourself out of bed. As much as you hated being woken up in such a manner, you were happy to be able to get a wink of sleep.

“Evening, Y/N.”

You look up from the ground, seeing the person whom you unfortunately wanted to avoid the most. Jay wore a small smile on his face, which was seen clearer without his glasses. Contrary to his usual hoodie-slacks combo, he wore a shirt that snugly fit him, in which you can definitely see the slight curvature of his chest. His toned arms were on full display, too, and you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d flex under your touch. His thighs looked just as attractive, given the fact that he wore cargo shorts.

“Good… evening, Jay.” you chuckle awkwardly. “What's the matter? Can I help you?” Why does he look so different? He even wore his hair differently.

“Nothing much.” he replies sheepishly. “Just, uh, wanted to have a casual talk with the president.” God, that bedhead. Why does it make her more fuckable? He steals glances at the skimpy top that hugged your body, accentuating your curves and your plump breasts.

“Really?” you grin in amusement, not expecting his statement. Just say you wanna fuck and go. “That's strange. No one comes up to me unless it’s about school.”

“That'd be an honor.” he comments, gaze not shifting away from you.“Would having small talk with me waste your time?”

You hesitantly shake your head, and he smiles. Fuck, that smile. Where is this going to get me now?

The two of you proceed to have a conversation outside the cabin, at the same time, thinking of lewd thoughts that were probably too inappropriate, given the setting. From time to time, your hands would brush each other’s, increasing the tension between the two of you.

Despite this, Jay would get distracted, finding your giggles so adorable, especially knowing that he was the reason behind them. You admired how Jay speaks, and how cautious he was when you ranted about your ex. He just hoped no one would call you out and separate the both of you.

Or so he thought.

The whistle trills fills your ears as rain falls angrily on your skin. Whines and grumbles were heard as the bonfire session was declared canceled by Sunoo and Jungwon. Students start sprinting back to their cabins as the rain pours, including the supervisors. No more confession time and roasted marshmallows, I guess.

You look over to see your cabin that was several meters from where you and Jay stood, attempting to make a run for it. However, Jay gets a hold of your wrist before you can take your first step.

“Stay.” his voice is deep and alluring, and you could feel your body slightly shiver.

“You sure?” you raise your brows anyway, not bothering to pull away from his grip. “What if someone sees us drenched in here? Are you willing to vouch for me?”

“You're the president. I'm sure no one would budge.”

You don't protest. Instead, you take the opportunity to ask him about the folder in his laptop, which, by the way, he still assumes was untouched. He, meanwhile, couldn’t take his eyes off of the top that clung to your skin, against your stomach. You pretty much were doing the same as you eyed his abs through his shirt.

After what felt like ten minutes of standing under the rain, both of you were drenched as you walked into an empty cabin for protection that no one used due to faulty electricity. You sit side by side in a single bed, neither of you having the guts to start another conversation.

Maybe it was time for you to spill your secrets.

“I like you.”

“Fuck me.”

The two of you look at each other after speaking at the same time. Your remark especially shocks Jay, so does the way you weren’t fazed with his confession just now. A hand instinctively goes up to cup your mouth. Shit, was I not subtle enough? You fake a hearty chuckle (which was actually a nervous one) as you see his perplexed expression.

“You don’t wanna fuck me?” you mutter, confidence leaving your system as his expression remains unchanged.

“No–I mean, yes.” he immediately replies, afraid that you might take it as him rejecting you. “Of course, I do.”

“Do it, then.”

You tower over his sitting figure, propping your hands on his chest. Jay couldn’t help but close his eyes, asking himself whether this was a dream or not. Your touch trails up to his neck, your fingertips tracing his collarbones. You catch his lips into a sloppy kiss, which he returns fervently as he slips his tongue on your mouth. The cold sensation brought by the raindrops on your skin is now gone as he pulls you into his lap and wraps your legs around his waist. For a minute, he savors your lips as his hands find their way to the hem of your top, feeling a little hesitant.

He pulls off, staring into your eyes as he searches for a sign of fear in your face. “Should I?”

Without a word, you nod, guiding his hands into taking off your top. His eyes roam along your torso, your breasts wanting to be freed from their restraints as they were practically coming out of your tight bra. His cock twitches and slightly hardens at the sight.

“Jay…” you whine, digging your ass against his hardness. A groan leaves his mouth. “I want you to take over.”

With that, he flips the two of you over, with you beneath him. He then pins your hands above your head, asserting his dominance. You hitch a breath as you feel his clothed cock rub against your crotch, still not believing his change in character.

“Is this really the quiet kid I knew?” you tease, making Jay yank your bottoms down, leaving you in your bra. He then lands a stinging spank on your ass cheek, squeezing the soft flesh after.

“Shush, Y/N, unless you want me to leave you hanging.”

Damn, even his voice can make me cum at this point. you feel him spreading your legs slowly, dipping a finger on your damp pussy as he kisses your inner thighs. You reach for his hair and stroke it gently as his lips get closer to where you needed him the most, your other hand squeezing your breast.

he licked a warm strip along your clit, eliciting a whimper from you. He held you by the knees to keep you from pressing your thighs together as he ate you out. his moans against your sex provided vibrations that made your toes curl, and moans louder.

“So miss president loves being eaten out, huh?” Jay chuckles, his ego growing as you reply to him with a broken mewl, pushing two of his fingers inside you. “Such a needy slut.”

He proceeds with his ministrations as he leaves marks on your thigh, torso, then up to your breasts, avoiding your neck to not cause suspicion. The way your walls tightened around his fingers made his cock harden even more. even until now, you couldn’t believe the situation you were in–being fucked by the resident introvert who was secretly a freak in bed.

Your grip on his hair tightens as you feel your high nearing. “Jay, I'm cumming!” you cry out desperately.

Hearing that, Jay pulls his fingers out of you, and licks them with a smirk on his lips. “You taste so sweet… however, I can’t just have you cumming somewhere that’s not on my cock, can I?”

He takes off his drenched top, and the rest of his clothes follow, freeing his erect cock from its confines. He drags his tip against your clit, teasing your entrance and holding your hips tight to stop you from pushing him in.

“Jay, please…” you beg, voice laced with frustration. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Is that so?” Jay snickers, slapping your thigh. “Little miss slutty president wants to suck me off?”

“Mm-mm.” you nod, eyeing his cock and the pre-cum that leaked from his tip. “fuck my mouth, just like how you want it.”

Just like how I want it? he stops in his tracks as he sees you grinning from beneath him. It was finally time for you to confess.

“Sir,” you whined, the pet name causing Jay to let out an audible groan. “I gotta tell you something.”

You sit up and bend over in front of him, his cock on your face and your ass up. He lets out a small gasp as your tongue teases his tip. The way you made eye contact with him didn’t help him, either. He bunches your hair up in a ponytail, wrapping it all around his knuckles as you sucked him like a popsicle.

“Tell me, baby,” he sighs, looking down at you in amusement.

“I needed a laptop for my report.” you lick him from base to tip. “And Heeseung, the vice president, borrowed yours for me.”

The way your tongue moves all over him sends shivers all over his body, and he makes the impulsive decision to rub his cock all over your face. “Baby saw my porn stash, didn’t she?” he chuckles, pushing himself deeper in your throat. You try to stop yourself from gagging as he fucks your mouth. “Fuck, yes. Those were all meant for you. All the things I wanna do to that body.”

You moan against his cock, reaching for your clit to rub yourself. you expected a different reaction from him, but by the looks of it, the Jay you passed by along the corridors was now gone. In front of you is a different person, and you actually loved it. You loved this new side of him.

“This is one of them.” Jay adds. “Fucking your mouth.”

You feel your head being guided by his hands as he nears his orgasm, thrusting faster inside your mouth. you whimper as his tip hits your throat, waiting for his warm release to fill your mouth.

However, he pulls out again, much to your dismay. He gets out of the bed and walks to the other side where he can take you from behind. Coincidentally, there stood a mirror in front of you, and you could clearly see his naked body as you were on your hands and knees. Fuck, I bet he works out a lot. He spanks your ass cheeks again, making you yelp.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, miss president.” Jay says under his breath, lining his tip on your cunt and getting ready to push himself inside of you. “I don’t have a condom with me, though.”

“I'm on the pill.” you reply. You realized you haven’t gotten rid of your habit of taking birth control pills even though you didn’t have sex as much anymore, especially now that you’re not with Jake anymore. “I have a favor to ask you.”

“Which is?”

You heave a deep sigh before speaking.  I'll have to do this once and for all. “Help me forget about Jake.”

Without a word, he pushes himself slowly inside you. A gasp leaves your mouth at how big and girthy he was as he stretched your walls. It took you a while to adjust to his size, but after he has sunken his whole length in you, he starts moving.

I'll help you forget about Jake, sweetheart. “My love… tell me.” he drags a fingertip along your spine, rocking his hips at a steady pace. “Who's making you feel good right now?”

“You, Jay.” you reply, almost sounding like a scream as you do. “Your cock feels so good inside me.”

“Fuck, yeah, I am.” jay snickers, pulling you by the hair and making you look at your fucked-out reflection in the mirror. “Look at you. Such a cock-hungry bitch.”

God, you hated being degraded, but why did Jay's words turn you on?

Jay's pace gradually goes faster as he feels you tightening around him, his muscles flexing as his skin slaps against yours.

“That fucking soccer boy can never fuck you as good as I do, right?”

“Ah, yes!” you whimper as his finger reaches your clit.

He groans. “Repeat after me, darling. Cheaters.”

“Cheaters–ah!” you squeal as Jay spanks your ass again.

“Ain’t.” Jay seethed.

“Ain't…” you draw out a whine as he holds you by the waist.

“Shit.” he pulls you to sit up, slapping your breasts.

“Shit! Oh, that feels good.” you bury your head in the bed.

“See? That fucker doesn’t deserve you.” he whispered against your neck, leaving a dark mark by sucking on it. “He can go get some dick by himself ‘cause from now on, you’re mine.”

As his hands make their way back to your breasts, you feel like putty under Jay's touch. You couldn’t help but agree to his every word as if he’s put you in a state of hypnosis. Your words are incomprehensible as he snaps his hips harshly against yours, the feeling of his cock inside you clouding your vision and thoughts.

“I said you’re mine, little slut.”

“I'm yours.” you breathe out.

Once he has been given the go signal, he slows down for a bit and turns your head so you can see each other’s gazes. “If you'd let me take care of you, I'd do it wholeheartedly.” he said, kissing your knuckles lovingly. “I don't care how slow you want the process to be, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”

You don’t say a word. Instead, you lock his lips in a loving kiss. He holds onto your waist for dear life as your hips move in sync, the heated moment turning into a passionate, affectionate one.

“You close?” Jay mumbles against your lips, and you nod.

You stay still in that position as Jay picks up his pace, letting you feel his warmth as he brings you to your high.

Your climax crashes like waves, and it seems like momentarily taking the life out of you. Jay follows suit, his seed spilling inside of you.

After a good minute, he pulls out of you, lays you down on the mattress and hovers above you. you cup his cheeks and give him a peck on the forehead, the introvert in him slowly coming back as he blushes at your action.

“Let me clean you up.” Jay says with a slight pout, the dominant in him finally out of the picture as he spoke.

“Can we do that later?” you reply, planting a kiss on his nose. “Let me hold you for a while.”

He doesn’t oblige. Rather, he picks up his drenched shorts from the floor, pulling a small handkerchief from its pocket. As he proceeds cleaning you up, you stare at him fondly. Were you in love? Not yet. Would you give him a shot? Definitely. The way he just switched up on you would need some processing time, though. It was one heck of a moment.

The night ends with Jay sending you off to your cabin, kissing you good night as he promises to meet you in school after the weekend.

*

You slowly stroll along the corridors of the art department building, looking for Jay's room as you go. You have been walking for thirty minutes straight, but without an ounce of exhaustion in your body although it was a Thursday–a work day for the student council president. To say that you were excited to meet him would be an understatement.

It’s been a week since the last day of the cabin trip and your first sexual encounter with someone who wasn’t Jake. You’ve been feeling a lot better, and it made Heeseung and Jungwon wonder how you’ve done it so fast. Jay’s been sending you food over the weekend and it stunned you how well he cooks. He’s been dropping over to the student council adviser’s office from time to time, too, just to watch you work.

You feel your feet starting to hurt, but you keep on walking anyway. I need to see my Jay after a long dayyyyy.

“There she is!” a voice starts shouting, causing you to stop on your tracks. “The prim and proper student council president.”

You squint your eyes at the person who turned out to be Sim Jayoon, Jake's cousin. She eyes you with a scowl as if scrutinizing you, and retches as if she was grossed out. You knew exactly what she came at you for–to act as a proxy for her wimpy cousin who hasn’t shown his face in the soccer team ever since. She has the reputation of being the worst pick-me in all of tenth grade, and that makes this encounter worse.

“You rang, Yoon?” you reply, faking a cheerful tone as you try your best not to pounce at the poor girl. “Do you need help with something?”

“Weren’t you crying over Jake oppa just last week?” Yoon spits out, towering over you to assert dominance. “Now you’re fucking with another guy? Seriously, sunbaenim, how much of a slut can you be?”

Does she expect me to cry and beg her to keep my dirty little secret? You snort. “Babe, your Jake oppa two-timed me with Park Sunghoon while I was on duty. That makes your cousin the slut here, doesn’t it?”

“And I did what I could do best–moving on.” you add, pissing Yoon off even more. Her face reddens in anger, and you taunt her, patting her head.  “Aww, look at you. Aren’t you such a good guard dog for not admitting that your cousin made mistakes?” 

“Shut up!” she yells defensively, stepping away from you. “You’re the president and you’re supposed to be the role model, right? You should step down if you tolerate double-dipping! bitch!”

With that, Yoon raises a hand to land a slap on your face, and you grimace, expecting the sting to land on your cheek. However, three seconds in and nothing hits you.

Turns out, a hand blocked Yoon’s arm and stopped her from slapping you. You look over your shoulder to see Jay with his usual meh expression plastered on his face. He raises his brows at Yoon, evidently annoyed by her words.

“At least she’s getting better sex than your cousin does.” he quips, throwing Yoon’s wrist to the ground.

You gasp at Jay’s choice of words. “Jay! Language!”

“What? It's the truth.” he replies, holding up a cube in his hand which happened to be a mini-recorder. “You want me to call your parents or something?”

In defeat, Yoon screams, stomping her way out of the corridors. You hear a deep chuckle from Jay behind you, and you instinctively land a slap on his chest. “You didn’t just say that in front of a fifteen-year old kid.”

“What was I supposed to do? She’s just called you slut and a bitch.” Jay shrugged, and you could only shake your head at him. He leans closer to your ear and whispers, “You’re my bitch, though.”

You roll your eyes, unable to protest  “Jay, as much as I appreciate the degradation–”

“Meet  me after your last period. I promise I won’t ditch you.” he grins, giving your lips a brief peck. “I’m off to the e-sports club office and nope, Heeseung hyung won’t be playing with me this time.”

“Thanks for the assurance..?” you say hesitantly, followed by a chuckle. He’s back at it again with the random updates. “Show them what you got, gamer boy.”

He pecks your lips again, and starts walking away with his back facing you. You could only look at him in awe as he leisurely walked the corridor with his headphones on and probably a One Ok Rock song blasting from them. He was your definition of comfort, and the only one who could convince you that wasting time wasn’t a bad thing after all.

“Love ya!” he bellows suddenly, making you yelp. Now’s not the time to say it back yet. You blow him a kiss and he makes a run for the stairs. Of course, you loved him, too.

And the other sides of him, of course.

a/n: this fic is especially dedicated to my girlies nics (@ddeonuism) and aria (@jaylaxies) bc apparently they love this fic so much so OFC i had to retrieve it and free it from the dungeon! this is for all my jay hoes 🥳 one of the fics that got me started in enhablr AND my first ever jay fic. i tweaked this a lil bit just to make jay hotter and sweeter bc ik that's what y'all want right 🙄 /lh enjoy lovelies!

NSFW TAGLIST [OPEN]: @thots4hee @jaylaxies @ddeonuism @jojayke @vernonluvs-archived @puphee @hee-pster @forjongseong @jaeyunsz @muffinminnie @shu-ramyeonz @poutyjaeyun @fairy-junseong @duolingofanaccount @jkefelx @taetaemylovie @heetro @yizhoutv @lavhikaru @kaislinging-slasher01 @cha0thicpisces @en-archv @simplewonderland @exactlygreatcoffee @lhseth @aerinaga @xwonniex @jyshdoll @iiousim (send an ask or a dm to be added!)

© criceofpain on tumblr, 2020

[viperiti]

hi! you write stuff, and i can’t :(

can i ask for a rosakae sickfic with my best girl as the whumpee? it can be as domestic or as serious as you want, just please can no one die and can it be sfw? thank, i really appreciate it :)

sorry nonnie this is SO late but i luv making my best girl suffer + ROSAKAE,,,,, how could i turn this down

WHUMPED OVER.

TW ⍟ sickfic, blood, injury, mild language. rosaria is super badly injured but i wanted to write a silly fic so here we are

in which the cavalry captain finds his drinking buddy in an uncomfortable state, to say the least.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

the words echoed through Rosaria's mind, she just couldn't make sense of it all. It never happened like this, of course there was that time with Jean — but she hated remembering that day.

The woman was perched on a coffee table in the backyard of Kaeya's house. She didn't know how she got there, nor why he had a coffee table in his backyard, but what she did know is that she absolutely could not take a deep breath without a stabbing pain in her entire torso.

Rosaria clutched her stomach, shutting her eyes tightly because she refused to make a sound, lest any wanderers find her in this state.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice, one she recognized to be her drinking buddy's coming from a distance.

It wasn't coming from a distance, really. He was barely a meter away.

"You're awake!" Kaeya proclaimed, the sudden noise pricked Rosaria's ears like a thousand needles.

"I'm sorry I took so long, its hard to find bandages... I hardly need them." he mused, taking her free hand in his and wrapping a soft white cloth against the open wound. Rosaria had failed to realise her hand was injured too, maybe she still had some adrenaline left from her encounter, or maybe she was too tired to notice? it didn't matter. Kaeya probably cleaned the cut while she was passed out.

Lost in thought once more, she subconsciously tried to breathe in deepy, trying to calm herself.

Big mistake.

She gripped her own torso tightly, her nails leaving a mark on her skin through her clothes. Unbeknownst to her, she had hissed in pain, thus alarming the man beside her.

"Are you alright? Did that sting? What happened?" he queried, staring up at her from where he was kneeling as if it wasn't obvious already.

"I don't feel very good.." Rosaria tried to choke out, she really did try her best but she was only met with the irony taste of her own blood in her mouth. "I can barely breathe, it hurts..." came out as a bloody cough.

Kaeya's desperate, worried expression faded out of view as Rosaria winced her eyes together, the only sound following was the silent, throbbing pain in her temples.

Rosaria couldn't be bothered to open them again for a while, she tried to coax herself to sleep just to escape it for a little while — but she could make out the vague sound of a door closing and someone carrying her, she didn't worry about where.

"I think that bruise matches your eye color."

Rosaria's eyes shot open, to reveal none other than Kaeya sitting in front of her, a sheepish look dancing on his usually calm features. His hair was a little messed up, she figured he probably took the couch and she was lying on his bed.

"Sorry, bad time?" "You think?"

Rosaria was pleasantly surprised by the sound of her own voice, she was half expecting a bloody mess to come out instead of words.

Kaeya smiled, admiring her confused face when she heard the sound.

"Well, I'll be downstairs if you need me."

He disappeared into his stairwell, leaving a strangely content nun lying on his bed, bandaged almost everywhere.

© viperiti. Do not repost, translate or plagarize my works on other platforms.

[shreddedparchment]

Perennial Pt.05

03/07/2022

Just a Friend

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 2,934

Warnings: angst, jealousy, pining, talks of taking shits haha

Featured Flower: Gardenia

A/N: It’s been a minute. I really needed a break from being creative. I’ve been exhausted and I wasn’t getting as much joy from writing for various reasons. I’m back, with the intent of writing without expectation so, for those that read this, I hope y’all enjoy it! I really enjoy this story and I’m gonna try not to let the notes be something I look at anymore. Writing for readers can be stressful after a while so I’m gonna dive back down to my roots and write these stories strictly for myself. I hope y’all like it! Have fun! xoxo

Please don’t steal my fics or repost or translate. Don’t be a dick.

No Tags!

“Well?” you press, arms rising to cross your chest again as you square your shoulders.

Your body even angles itself as if waiting to decide whether to run as part of your fight or flight instinct.

Bucky just stands there, brow drawn down over his steel blue eyes, icy in response to your tone you assume, and says nothing.

“I thought you said you wanted to talk?” you drop your arms and hold your hands out at your sides, palms forward, waiting a moment before letting them fall and slap against the side of your legs.

The anger in Bucky’s face grows into irritation at your tone. The prickly demeanor that you can’t hide right now because you’re so annoyed and bitter, he clearly doesn’t like it.

“I’m sorry, did I do something to piss you off?” he asks, his gloved index finger pointing at his chest as he takes a step forward with his left foot then leans all of his weight back on his right.

You smile, despite yourself, but it isn’t pretty. You don’t think…

No, this smile is full of sharp bite and sarcastic amusement. 

“Did you do something?” you chuckle, hands brought up to your hips as you bite on your bottom lip and twirl your body halfway to the left and then back to the right just to have somewhere to expend the raging energy building up in your chest. “Did you DO something?”

The laugh, caustic as it is, disappears completely and is replaced by simple hurt anger.

“No, Bucky, see…that’s the problem. You did nothing. Nothing.”

You can’t seem to stop chewing on your lip and it hurts but you don’t notice.

“It’s been four months since you disappeared and you did nothing. No text, no phone call, no visit to tell me that hey, you were done with me and my shop and whatever friendship we had but let’s face it, it couldn’t have been a very meaningful or real or important friendship if it was so easily forgotten, right?

“Like, I didn’t become completely dependant on you for those few days out of the week, so it was easy to just move on. I didn’t spend night after night lugging my buckets in alone or throwing my garbage, alone. No, it would have been silly for me to expect to see you again after…after everything.

“So, yeah, you didn’t do something to piss me off, Bucky. You did nothing. And I hired a new part timer who I’m pretty sure has special abilities that she’s a little nervous about telling me about so I’m trying to be as kind to her as possible but because of her specialness, I don’t have to worry about bringing in heavy buckets or lifting heavy trash.

“Kamala handles all of that really well on her own. And…" You reach up to scratch at your hairline, averting your eyes down to the floor as if trying to think of what else you might add.

But then you realize what you need to say.

"...And I don't need you anymore." You hold out your arms again, a universal shift for outraged confusion. "So, I don't know exactly why you bothered following me back here when you've been going several months perfectly fine without worrying about me, or the shop. Not that I expected you to, or anything like that.

"I just….I thought we were friends and I was wrong. My bad. You can go now. I'm sure you've got other places to be and people you'd rather see."

Your anger collapses and while you still manage to keep an annoyed front for him, the ache in your chest is getting unbearable.

Moving back towards your counter, you grab your phone and watch through the corner of your eye as Bucky turns and moves towards the door.

Unwilling to watch him leave, you hurry back around the counter and move towards the back room where food that you know you won't be able to eat is waiting.

Tearing into your naan, you rip it into several pieces, waiting and straining to hear the ding of the bell and the click of the door to indicate that Bucky's gone.

Instead the soft thuds of his boots edge into the doorway of your back room and stop.

You look at him, still shredding your bread, and he looks so ashamed your hands stop moving.

No, he doesn’t look ashamed. That’s not right. He looks sorry. It’s kind of like shame but not exactly. There’s a tilt to the corners of his lips, a sorrow in his blue eyes. A question? But what question?

“Look, uh…”

“I don’t need an explanation, Bucky. I don’t need to hear about how you’ve been busy with Avenger work or how you’ve spent every waking moment with your girlfriend. I don’t want to hear it. Just…”

“I’m sorry.” He says it simply. Those two stupid little words and the damn look on his face, and the idiotic shift of his big ass feet in those heavy looking boots settle onto your chest and draw from you the longest and deepest sigh you’ve ever breathed in your life.

The air coming out of your lungs wavers and you grimace as you turn back to your food which you’re now absolutely positive you won’t eat with this hole growing in your stomach.

“I didn’t hear from you for months,” you shake your head. “And I feel so stupid for even feeling like I’m entitled to some kind of explanation or apology for you not being here. You never said you’d be here forever but you made it seem like…”

It’s not fair that you feel this way. Not to you. Not to him.

This sucks.

“Look, just…just go away for today and give me some time to cool off. Seeing you like that out of nowhere caught me off guard and I’m too upset to think about this rationally. Just give me a few days.”

“That’s fair,” Bucky says, but you don’t look at him. You can’t.

He turns to leave and your heart gives a terrifying jolt as he turns his back on you.

You spring from your seat, turning to face him as you grip the edge of the table with shaky hands.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” he asks a little too eagerly. He moves into the room, stopping to stand only a few feet from you, eyebrows high on his forehead as he waits with endless curiosity.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything!” he says quickly, taking a step closer.

“Don’t come back if you’re just going to disappear again. It’s better if you just stay away. I can’t take the disappointment twice. Once was enough,” you plead.

Your words pull at the corners of his lips again, his eyebrows rushing down to pucker between his eyes as he contemplates the seriousness of your words.

“I’ll see ya,” he says, and he leaves, the ding of the bell and the click of your shop door leaving you to wonder whether he really means he’ll see you later or whether it’s a friendly goodbye for good.

~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t see Bucky for a week.

You don’t expect to, even though part of you is hopeful. Just as hopeful as you have been to hear from your business partner.

It’s been months since he should have been back. Way before you expected Bucky to talk to you again and yet, all of your calls go unanswered. The hotel numbers are incorrect. And his itinerary is also completely bogus.

You spend some time every week at the bank, double checking the accounts to make sure he hasn’t run off with any money but that’s no like Greg to do.

He’s the last of your kin and he’d never hurt you like that.

Finally at the end of your rope, you call the cops and they also can’t help you. So this week is a bust for both Greg and Bucky.

He doesn’t come by to help with your buckets, which is fine because Kamala got territorial when you’d told her that Bucky used to help you. Well, after she stopped gushing about an Avenger being your friend.

She looked so ecstatic about it that you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’re not sure you ever meant anything to Bucky other than a way to pass the time between missions and dates.

On day five after your encounter with the former Winter Soldier, just as you’re locking the door to your shop and Kamala is sprinting off to the right sans jacket since spring has officially arrived, your pocket vibrates.

“Bye! See you tomorrow!” Kamala shouts back at you.

“We’re clooosed,” you sing, reminding her with amusement in your voice.

“Oh, right. See you the day after.” She shouts.

You chuckle, reach into your pocket and pull out your phone as you simultaneously reach up and try to catch the nylon strap you’d attached to your metal security shutter.

You’re only half paying attention to the strap and your eyes are instead focused on your phone. You unlock it and stop moving, hand in the air, as the preview message shows Bucky.

Heart seizing for a moment, you try to breath slowly, struggling to catch it as your heart clenches and your stomach rolls.

Why does this make you feel physically sick?

You tap on the screen and drop your arm, holding the phone closer with both hands as you stare at the short simple message.

Bucky: You still mad?

The more you read it the angrier you want to get. Instead you find yourself relishing in the fact that Bucky’s just sent you a text for the first time in ages. Why does that matter so much?

You start to type several times, but delete each message when it gets angry or sad or annoyed.

After five minutes of trying to come up with the perfect message, you send him a straight to the point, No.

Stupidly, idiotically, yet uncontrollably you stand there waiting for his response.

You’re staring so intently at your phone that you’re startled into a jump and gasp as your metal shutter comes crashing down onto the pavement, rattling angrily at the force with which it’s been pulled.

"Jesus," you cry quietly, hand and phone held tight to your chest. "Not so hard, you'll break it."

Even though your words are chastising, you know very well that Bucky won't take it as a reprimand. Not to mention you're too shocked to sound angry.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see if you needed help but you're right, the kid takes care of it all pretty easy. What was her name? Kala?" Bucky reaches into your other hand and takes the small ring of keys from you and stoops down to lock the shutter into place.

“Kamala,” you mumble, watching him with your heart suddenly fluttering like mad.

It’s embarrassing and your cheeks and ears burn suddenly, your eyes roving over his dark jean jacket and lighter bleached pants.

His boots are the same as before. Black heavy things that you grew used to stomping around your shop.

The shine of his metal wrist catches your eye as it peeks out from underneath his jacket sleeve and the black glove he’s always wearing. You’ve never seen his arm completely before and your heart aches because you know that his girlfriend must have.

Of course she has. They’ve been together for months and months.

“Why are you sighing?” he asks, standing up straight and warming your keys in his normal hand.

“Huh?” you ask, confused.

“You’ve sighed like three times in the last minute. You okay?”

“Oh,” shit. “I’m just tired. It was a busy day. It’s National Women’s History month and lots of men were coming in for flowers for their secretaries and assistants and moms and stuff.”

“Hm,” he doesn’t sound convinced. “Nah, I don’t buy it, kid. There’s more to it than that. What’s really eating at you?”

You don’t really feel like talking about your missing partner. In fact, you want to focus on anything else.

You’ve had to put your entire expansion plans on hold. It’s depressing as well as worrying.

“Why are you sneaking up behind me? I have pepper spray in my purse, you know. I could have sprayed you.”

Trying to muster some irritation, you turn and start to move down the street towards your place. It isn’t far so it’s not like this’ll be much of a walk but despite your rational thoughts about how Bucky is taken and you should be angry at him still, you’re glad to have a few minutes to walk with him.

He huffs a small laugh, just air escaping through his full pink lips. He licks them and you turn away and adjust your purse on your shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I was watching you and Kamala talk then I texted to see if you were still angry or not, but you aren’t so…I just wanted to help.”

You roll your eyes, irritated by that reasoning more than you should be. Offended even.

“I don’t need your help, Bucky.”

Your feet move faster, now suddenly eager to end this walk as quickly as possible.

Sturdy metal closes around your arm and then after a moment he pulls you towards the inside of the sidewalk as a car passes by honking angrily at someone jaywalking.

He stops you though, and that confused furrow of his brow from the other day comes back.

“What? What did I say? Why are you angry?” he begs. Literally, he sounds so pleading to know what it might be that he’s done because he seriously has no idea.

“I’m not some charity case, Bucky. I have an employee to help me in the shop. I don’t need a helper, okay? I don’t need you to save me.”

You let him hold your arm longer than he needs to. He’s not pulling away and on some level, you like that.

“I’m not trying to-that’s not what I’m doing,” he argues.

“But that’s what it feels like!” you shout, louder than you need to.

Frustration bubbling over, you look around as people passing look at the two of you with concern.

Embarrassed, you pull your arm from his grip and adjust your bag again.

“Okay, I’m sorry, alright? I’ll stop helping you at the shop. You don’t need to yell.” He looks around, concerned about the eyes you’re both drawing.

He is an Avenger. You suppose he’s worried about what people might think he’s doing and why some random chick is yelling at him.

“Why are you here, Bucky?” you ask again, this time your frustration boiling over into exasperation in your voice.

Bucky steps closer, closing the space to only a few inches because of the people still stealing glances.

“I missed you, okay? I-I’m sorry that I never came by or called or reached out in any way. I was busy. Really. And I thought about calling and texting so many times but something always came up. I know that sounds really shitty or like I’m making some kind of excuse, but seriously I-I wanted to call you.”

Looking into his eyes as he talks makes you want to cry. There’s so much there, so much hurt and other strong feelings that you really need to get over.

“I know you were busy, Bucky. I saw you on the news a lot.” You explain and start walking again. Bucky is quick to follow. “I assume you took like a shit at some point, right? Couldn’t you have just shot me a hi then?”

Bucky laughs again, shaking his head as he watches you then nods.

“I guess you’re not wrong.”

“I can’t explain to you why I’m as angry and hurt as I am, Bucky. It just is what it is. I wish I didn’t care. Then maybe I could go months and months without seeing or hearing from you and not give a shit, but I do care and I was…am angry. I’m just…gonna need some time. I can’t just flip that whole friend switch back on as if none of this happened. For all I knew the other day when you told me you’d see me later, you could have meant later for real, or maybe it was like a final goodbye?”

He’s got you fumbling your thoughts and struggling with your emotions so much that you’re already more tired being with him for these few minutes than you were actually working a full day.

“I know I fucked up,” Bucky says. “But you really are a friend I care about. You cheered me on when I didn’t think I could jump back into dating and helped me find my footing. That’s something that I can never repay. But I’ll start by promising you that I won’t just disappear like that again, okay?”

You watch him skeptically, eyes narrowed to slits as you wonder at the amount of disasters he must come into contact with as an Avenger that might make him break those words.

“Even if something happens on a global scale,” he says, guessing your thoughts correctly. “When I go take a shit, I’ll shoot you a text, okay?”

There’s a slight slant to his lips and his words echo in your head a few times. The seriousness with which he makes his promise breaks you and you shut your eyes as you’re overcome and laugh.

Just one really good laugh. A little because it’s outrageous, but also, the butterflies in your stomach make you feel giddy.

“Deal?” Bucky asks, dipping his head to meet your eyes.

He’s smiling when you look at him and after a slow nod, you shake your head at the ridiculousness of this whole situation and then push him away playfully as you turn away.

“Deal. Dumbass.”

[capncassas]

Walter Marshall x Reader | Cuddle Buddy Wanted

Summary: After reading an ad on the internet from you looking for a cuddle buddy, Walter is seriously concerned for your safety.

Word Count: 861 words

Warning: Pure Loving Walter Fluff being a big body guard.

Please don’t repost my writing anywhere, but do feel free to like, comment and re-blog, I am a fragile bean who needs love and support. If you would like to be added to my tag list send me a message.

Tag List: @littlebirdofrivia @smile-sugar @ughdontbeboring @peachatori @daddys-littlewhitegirl @wheretheriversrunintothesea

Walter was not the guy who spent his spare time on the internet, in his personal experience, all the internet did was lure unsuspecting victims to assault and death. The statistics spoke for themselves.

While tracking a sexual predator with his team, he was spending more time on his ass in front of a computer screen than he’d probably logged all his life, and your notice on a forum message board intrigued him.

‘Cuddle Buddy Wanted,’

F in the Toronto Area seeks M cuddle buddy. No sexual contact. Applicants must be 18+ and willing to meet for movies, food, cuddling and conversation 1-2 times a week. Txt preferred.

And there was a phone number.

That was what set Walter off.

There was a woman out there, in his city, willfully putting herself in danger in search of someone just to spend time with. None of his coworkers noticed when he programmed your number into his cell phone and then locked the screen.

For the rest of the day, Walter kept thinking about the message. When was the last time you posted, who had you interacted with, were you okay? Were you safe?

He was supposed to be working through his lunch break in his office when the number programmed in his phone kept calling to him. Walter stretched in his seat and his thick paw dig into his pocket and retrieved his phone, going straight to the number and tapping the text feature.

‘My name is Walter Marshall. I am a police officer with the Toronto PD. You’re not in any kind of trouble, but I saw your ad for a cuddle buddy and I must know you are okay. Please text back,’

Walter also wasn’t the man who wrote in text talk. He needed to compose full words and sentences. He hit send and sat his phone down and tried to focus on his work.

The rest of the day went by in expected agony and he was almost compelled to go to the geeks in the computer lab and ask them to track you down by your IP address when hours went by and you didn’t text back.

Maybe you learned your lesson and got your phone number changed after a bunch of perverts on the internet started texting and calling you. How did you not know the biggest rule about the internet? Never, ever give out any of your personal information.

Where were your parents? Because they absolutely failed you.

At ten o’clock that night, Walter’s phone chimed as he was climbing into his truck to leave the police station and drag his ass home for a shower and two hours of sleep before he came back to the station.

‘Hi Walter, my name is YN. I’m sorry I didn’t reply to you sooner. Thank you for checking on me. I am okay.’

Walter stared at the text and couldn’t understand how you seemed so casual in your response. He sat in the freezing cabin of the truck. The cold never bothered him, but he realized officers were looking, probably dreading that he would turn around and come back in.

He got what he wanted, but there’s something else that’s bothering him. Walter keeps reading your text over and over, not sure what it is, call it intuition.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’

His thumbs tap out the question before he can stop himself and hits send.

‘Nothing, honest. I don’t want to complain.’

Walter’s brows arch as he stares at your reply.

‘Tell me.’

A few minutes go by, and Walter wonders if maybe you will not reply again, maybe you’re busy fielding applications from serious applicants to your advertisement and it fills him with something he isn’t used to feeling.

Jealousy.

Starting the truck, he drops his phone in the cup holder and drives out of the underground parking garage. There are a few things he has to do before going home. His place is basically just a place he goes to sleep, and that’s it. But he needs food occasionally, and he was out of coffee grounds this morning.

Pulling into the gas station, he can see someone sitting in their car in front. He can just barely see the top of a head hunched over the steering wheel, shoulders shaking.

Walter climbed out of the truck and he saw the illumination of the cellphone. He can see the texts, you’re the girl from the message board.

Instinct dominates as he taps his knuckles on the driver side window and you jump from the noise, Walter takes a step back, holding his hands out to show you he means no harm and you scrub your hands over your eyes trying to clean away the tears and snot.

His heart is hammering in his chest as he reaches into his back pocket and opens up his text messages, holding the phone up to your window for you to see.

Recognition washes over your face before you throw the door open and land in his chest, feeling his arm protective arms wrap around your back and hold you tight to his chest.

“It’s okay… I’ll take care of you.”

[tobioismylove]

[12:46]

Slumped on the chair, Kunimi looks over at you wearing his volleyball club's jacket, face buried halfway into the collars as you peacefully sleep with your head resting on the table.

Your features were relaxed and soft, the corner of your lips slightly curved up into a smile to whatever dream you were having.

At times like this, Kunimi often wonders how someone like you could fall in love with him. He knew for a fact that he was really unsociable, having little to none energy 24/7 and his resting bitch face didn't help.

People would definitely try to avoid a boring person such as him so why is it that you love him? Why is it that you always give him a soft smile that's reserved only for him and go out of your way to be with him even though he barely shows any affection for you in this relationship?

He knows you've cried your eyes out last night. Your eyes were red and puffy when you arrived at school this morning. He was the reason for it, but yet, you still greeted him this morning with a smile as if he didn't just hurt you last night.

You and him were just chilling in his room yesterday after school when you had asked him if he could be a bit more expressive with you. You meant no harm, only wanting your boyfriend to talk to you when he's stressing over something but Kunimi mistook it.

"You know I'm like this so why do you want me to change now?" was what he said.

One thing led to another before he very rudely asked you to get out of his room and slamming the door on your face. A few minutes after you had left, guilt started creeping inside him and that's how it was most of the time.

"Akira?" He slightly flinches when your fingertips graze his cheek, bringing him out of his trance. "What's going on in your mind? You're frowning so hard." You asked, voice gentle as you were about to pull your hand away, but your boyfriend leans onto it, seeking for more warmth. "Baby, are you ok–"

"I'm sorry." Your boyfriend cuts you off, a sincere apology leaving his lips for the first time since both of you started dating. "I'm sorry for yesterday. And any other days where I've hurt you with my actions and words." Your eyes widened, mouth opening and closing as you were at a loss for words.

Kunimi Akira was never the one to apologize, moreover with words. So it really shocked you to see him apologizing, eyes never daring to look into yours as he leans his head onto your hand.

"I love you for who you are, Akira. So don't ever question why I love you out of all people." You stated firmly, knowing very well what was going on in his head with just a look at his expression.

"You can't express your feelings with words and I understand that. But that doesn't mean you make me unhappy. Yesterday I said such a thing because I want you to be able to communicate with me when something's bothering you." You smiled, thumb caressing his cheek. "Have you noticed the way you always hold my hand when we're walking back home? The way you cover the sharp edges of the desk when I bend down to pick up something? The way you always lend me your jacket when I'm cold or the way you just absolutely insult the fuck out of guys who judges me? Yeah, that's your love language." Kunimi blinks multiple times.

"I… I must've saved the world in my past life to be getting a gift like you." You laugh at his words, retrieving your hands from his cheeks to hold his hand under the desk. "You're very expressive with your words today." He smiles, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Once in a lifetime thing. Treasure this moment cause I won't be like this anymore." Chuckling, you pressed a kiss on the crown of his head as he nuzzled into your neck. "I love you, Y/N. Please always remember that."

©tobioismylove Do not repost, translate or copy my works.

reblogs are very much appreciated!

[jeonqquk]

permission to date | jjk

pairing | jungkook x reader genre | RICHHHH!JK , crack n then angst jskskdk idk it’s super weird , lame attempts at serious shit wc | 996 words summary | the one where jungkook seemingly forgets the fact that adults could make decisions for themselves notes | the irony of the fact that jk is a richboi in the fic but a prisoner in the header✨aNYways i just had to use this title lmao hope you enjoy btw tags weren’t woking, i’ll check it out tmrw morning first!

feedback is always welcome!

“We don’t need permission to date, Jungkook.”

You exasperatedly sigh, lolling your head back onto the couch and take in a deep breath. Beside you, Jungkook is not as relaxed and fidgets on the soft sofa, playing with his fingers which is a habit of his you’ve grown accustomed to. He did this a lot when he was stressed about something, would shift uncomfortably again and again until you asked him what was bothering him.

“Y/n, you don’t understand.” He turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed and you groan, “I don’t need to, Kook. You’re literally a 23-year-old CEO of your own company and don’t know if you’re allowed to date a girl?”

“It’s not that exactly..”

He nods, hesitantly and you can’t help but find his irrational fear funny. You try to stifle but let out a laugh, and watch as Jungkook widens his eyes, scandalised at the prospect of you finding his dilemma even the slightest bit laughable.

“Oh, this funny to you?” He sneers, although there is no malice present in his tone. You play along, teasingly nod and watch his facial features contort from distressed to cheeky. His lopsided grin and twinkling eyes only serve to prove you right further that he was thinking of something.

And that something could never be any good.

Jungkook moves closer to you on the couch, and you eye him suspiciously, unaware of what was going on in his brain.

“Let me give you something to laugh about.” He doesn't give you any time to digest his words before he’s tackling you to the floor, fingers digging into the flesh of your stomach and he straddles you, restricting your movement.

Jungkook tickles you like there’s no tomorrow, certainly giving you something to laugh about as he totally disregards your pleads to stop and keeps going. “Take that.” He’s unwavering as you try to move him away but the force of your laughter has you backing down, hands moving of their own accord to gt aay from his tactics.

You try to catch your breath between the loud laughs, “Jungkook! Stop i- Stop!” He ignores your words, or rather screams, of protest and continues tickling you with renewed vigour. You’re howling with laughter at this point, soft chuckles that were meant to keep your dignity forgotten, hands desperately trying to push Jungkook’s devilish ones away.

“O-Okay! I’m sorry!” You pant out in between the giggling and he pauses, “What’d you say, baby?” When you don’t respond, too busy catching your breath, he resumes ticking your stomach, laughing himself as you thrash around uselessly in his hold.

“I-I said I’m sorry!” You finally manage to get out, still trying to push him off and he finally relents, getting off you and moving to lie down beside you on the carpeted floor.

Jungkook’s white formal shirt is crumpled, both your hair a mess and you blame none other than the man in front of you for that.

“I hate you.” You turn to face him, breathing heavily and he moves a strand of hair away from your face. You shrug him off, resting sideways on your elbow and ask him, “Still don’t know if you can date me?”

Jungkook shuts his eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/n, you know that.” You nod. Jungkook and you are practically already dating at this point, you do all the couple-y stuff but the only thing left is making it official to the public.

He’s made it pretty clear to you that he wants to be with you. But, you don’t get why he was so afraid of finally revealing it to the media. He’s had his reasons, you guess, but it had been too long and you wanted answers.

“I really want to tell everyone about us, Y/n, I really do. I just don’t know how the public will take it. You know what’s happened to partners’ of other celebrities because of fans and I don’t want that to happen to you as well.”

His words sink in, and you completely agree with his concerns. If you had been in Jungkook’s place, the same worries would have weighed you down. However, he doesn’t need to worry about others’ opinions affecting you. If there’s one thing he should’ve learn about you after being together for almost a year- it’s that you don’t give two flying shits about what others think of you. It’s safe o say that you’re as independent as a woman could be and you want him to know that you’ll be okay even those around you don’t approve of your relationship.

You want his happiness, only. What others thought didn’t matter in the least to you.

But, Jungkook was different.

He was always so self-conscious, always thinking about what others' would like and doing things the right way. He was raised that way, you couldn’t do anything about it. Jungkook had practically been born in gold, having all the luxuries one could dream of right from the day he saw the world.

He had always been in the spotlight, the media always around him looking for juicy stories. Every single thing he did was being kept track of, and that definitely played a part in his current personality.

It was extremely rare for him to talk about his feelings too, so seeing him like this- addressing his worries was a first.

“I know, Kook, but you gotta know that I don’t care about them. I only want you, only want you to be satisfied.” He looks straight at you, dark eyes holding so much emotion in them. “You sure?” He softly questions, hand coming to rest on yours.

“Are you sure, Jungkook? I know how hard this must be for you and-“ You’re cut off by his lips meeting yours, gently moving in sync. He pulls off with a sweet pop.

“I don’t want anything more than to show my girl off to everyone.”

© intokook | absolutely no reposts/modifications/translations of works tolerated.

[marvels-writings]

World Turned Upside Down

Prequel: Used To

Sequel: My Forever

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) Masterlist

Yelena Belova Masterlist

Requested by @stephanieromanoff and (Kind of) @venablemayfairgoode: Hi!! I absolutely LOVED ‘Used To’, and I definitely felt the reader’s pain. Could you write a part 2? Like, maybe while going away from everything, reader finds Yelena and they start a relationship?

Word Count: 7.4k (long but a masterpiece of angst and fluff)

A/N: Two whole weeks of effort, literally, so worth it. I hope you feel the same after reading it. 

Edit: The post seems to have deleted itself so I’m reposting it

Golden light filtered through the windows, illuminating the quiet of your apartment; the light fell on your eyes. You opened them slowly and looked around the room. The windows showed the rest of the world slowly waking up, the cars whirring by as other people's lives took their normal turn.

Breathing in slowly, you turned around slowly. The sheets shuffled underneath you, tangling your legs further into them. Turning to face the blonde in front of you, a small smile graced your lips. Fingertips grazed over her cheek as you moved the hair away from her face.

Shuffling closer to your sleeping girlfriend, your smile broadened as you noticed she was still sleeping. It wasn’t frequent that you woke up before Yelena, but you loved every second of it. Your fingers ran across her relaxed features before settling around her cheek.

Your fingertips trailed down her cheekbone onto her shoulder, till your hand was ghosting across her chest. Her heartbeat sounded just underneath your fingers, bringing a sense of comfort to you. Toying with a strand of hair on her neck, her eyes began to flutter open slowly.

Taking in a breath, her eyes opened to see you watching her. Your eyes held open affection, a gaze she found herself seeking comfort in. Hazel eyes scanned your features, she shifted to see you better. Legs tangled with yours over the sheets, the touch bringing you back to her.

“Morning,” Yelena whispered, her voice raspy from waking up. You hummed in response, fingers gently toying with her hair as a comfortable silence blanketed it you.

Soft breaths resounding in your ears as thoughts continued to run through your mind. Thoughts of a certain redhead. She had called you, more than once, more than you had expected. Even after five years, you found it hard not to pick up.

The voicemails remained on your phone. Her voice asking you to come back, telling you that it had been long enough. You could barely stop thinking about it.

Yelena saw that something was bothering you, but she never asked. She knew you would tell her once you thought it over. Her trust made you comfortable enough to think about going back. But the thought of seeing her again made you stop.

“Breakfast?” Yelena asked, a small smile as your fingertips ran across her skin. Taking your fingers away from her hair, you gave her a small nod. Mirroring her smile, you moved to get off the bed.

Untangling your legs from the sheets, you smoothened out your clothes. Though, it hardly made a difference. The clothes were all Yelena’s, not that she minded. Everything she wore was yours, even the oversized sweatpants.

Moving your hair away from your face, you followed the blonde into the kitchen. You knew she didn’t eat much for breakfast, but she insisted on trying to make you something anyway. Taking a seat on the kitchen island, you fidgeted with your hands as your girlfriend started on breakfast.

Bread in the toaster, two cups of coffee brewing, eggs cooking on the stove. Yelena put the eggs on a plate and sighed as she turned around. You were still staring at your hands, refusing to disturb the silence surrounding both of you.

“Something on your mind?” Yelena asked softly, setting your plate in front of you along with your coffee.

You didn’t seem to hear her, snapping out of your daze as you looked up to face her. A smile formed on your face before you noticed she had asked you something.

“Sorry?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

Yelena chuckled, picking up her toast and setting it down next to her coffee. Taking a seat in front of you, she set one hand down in the middle of the table. Her foot bumped yours gently as she sat down.

“I asked what was going on in this beautiful head of yours.” She asked, her hand gesturing to your head.

You smiled at the compliment, the expression disappearing as you looked down at your food. Your fork prodded the eggs, playing with them. Another silence settled around the room as she waited for you to speak. You set down your fork and let out a sigh, gaining the courage to finally tell her.

“She called me.” You stated, your voice strained and tight as the words left your lips.

The blonde frowned for a moment until she understood who you were referring to. To you, her name would never be mentioned, when you talked about it, it was always ‘she’ and ‘her’. Her hand gently came onto yours, thumb running across your knuckles to show she was listening.

“She wants me to come back,” You continued, breath shaky as you spoke. “she says it’s been long enough.”

Yelena nodded at your words, letting them sink in. A squeeze to your hand brought your eyes up to hers. You looked uncertain of what you wanted to do next. The blonde tilted her head to the side as she resumed running her thumb over the skin of your hand.

“Do you want to go back?” She asked gently.

Her question was what you’d been asking yourself since the first time she called you. Were you ready to see her again? Should you let your absence remain for longer? A part of you wanted to go back to where you used to call home. 

But this was home, this huge apartment you’d bought with Yelena.

“I’m not sure,” You admitted, sighing. “do you want to go there?”

The blonde considered it, licking her lips slowly. She seemed to weigh her words carefully, to tell you what she wanted, and if she wanted to see her sister again.

“I would like to see Natalia again,” Yelena confessed, watching your expression falter. “, but only if you’re okay with it.”

“You know I won’t keep you from your family.” You found yourself answering before you could process her words.

Natalia, you’d never called her by her true name, scared it was too close to her. it was the first time you’d heard her name in years. The last time being when you told Yelena about what happened between her and you.

“Then why should she keep you from yours?” Yelena asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You nodded, considering her words. A light chuckle left you as you recalled the last words you’d said to her. 

‘If the entire world turns upside down’. It was so distant now, the realization, the arguing, the day you left.

“I did tell her I’d come back if the world turned upside down.” You recalled, nostalgia in your words as you turned to look out the window. Breathing in slowly, you took a moment to analyze how different your life was now.

It’s been almost four years you’ve been together, each day you spent with her you seemed to forget your life without her. Funny, it was a coincidence she showed up in your life just a month after you left Natasha. Going on a trip around Europe was an impulse decision, one of your best ones at that. 

It was what you’d wanted to do with Natasha, but you ended up by yourself. Until you met Yelena at a bar. The memories of how you began seemed to fade the longer you were with her. But everything in between felt like yesterday.

Yelena had been the one to take things slow. It matched you better than you had expected. It was perfect. You needed to take things slow after everything that happened. The blonde didn’t want to rush into anything.

 Sometimes, you thought maybe you were with Yelena only because she reminded you of someone you used to love. It was hardly that, being with Natasha had been something you wanted to do. With Yelena, you were surprised your life hadn’t been this way all along. 

A smile crossed your face as you remembered starting to trust her. It was slow, just starting with trusting her with your nightmares, even your fears if you were sure about it. She never pushed you, never held back a secret if she thought you’d want to know.

“In a way, it did.” You commented, making your decision to return.

Yelena watched you turn back to face her, your eyes meeting hers with certainty. Your decision was made, she could change it if she wanted to. But this could be good for you, maybe it would benefit both of you. After all, there were plans you had that needed a family watching you.

“You’re sure about going back?” She asked, just to make sure. You nodded your head, palm turning upwards to take her hand into yours. Skin brushed together as your fingers ran over her skin.

“Maybe not permanently,” You gave a half shrug. “but they are my family.”

Yelena smiled at you, her other hand slowly coming up to cup yours. Her fingers toyed with yours, letting the rings on your fingers clink together softly. Wedding bands had not come in their place, not yet anyway.

“So are you.” You smiled, lacing your fingers with hers. Her smile broadened at your words, eyes glancing down to where her ring met yours. She promised you forever when you weren’t sure you could find one.

————

Your phone buzzed lightly in your hand on the drive to the compound. After messaging the rest of the team about your surprise arrival, they hadn’t stopped messaging you. The first year was the only year they tried to keep in contact with you before giving up on you.

Wanda was the only one who never gave up on it. Every holiday, every birthday, she’d send you a text and try to call you. There were never any voicemails, but the texts were there, year after year. She didn’t know if you’d read them or not but still kept sending them.

Now, there were more messages than you could count.

The only ones you paid attention to were the ones from Tony. He told you that he could get you your room back. The one you had before you moved in with a certain redhead. No one had touched it.

Scrolling through the notifications, you noticed one text from Natasha thanking you. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Stark can give me my old room back,” You said, tucking your phone in your back pocket and turning towards Yelena. She nodded, looking outside the window as the compound started to come into view.

“The one I had before moving in with her.” You continued, to try to occupy the silence in the car. The taxi driver didn’t seem to care much about who he was driving or where. Though, you supposed he expected a large tip since you mentioned Tony Stark.

“Though I don’t know how long we’ll be staying.” You continued, licking your lips dryly. Your fingers reached to fidget with your engagement ring. Twisting the ring around your finger, you clenched your jaw and turned to look out the window.

The sound of the radio the only sound filling the taxi for a few moments. Fingers laced through yours, squeezing to bring your attention to her. Turning to face her, you gave her a half-hearted smile. Yelena gave you a reassuring grin before squeezing your fingers again.

“We’ll stay as long as you want.” She whispered, bringing your hand up to meet it to her lips softly. You smiled at the comforting feeling.

Chuckling, you remembered how Yelena hadn’t been one to show affection at the starting of your relationship. You had always been one to initiate any sort of physical contact. It was only after she told you how she wanted to make sure you were comfortable did it become commonplace.

“I love you.” You whispered, a smile turning up the corners of your lips. The blonde mirrored your smile as she turned around to face you. Hazel eyes radiated warmth as she squeezed your hand again.

“I love you too,” Yelena said.

With her, it didn’t feel like you were living a lie. You didn’t have to ask her if she meant it. To her, telling you that she loved you was a promise on its own.

Smiling to yourself as she squeezed your fingers the same way as you walked towards the entrance of the compound. You were about an hour earlier than you had promised to arrive. Hardly anyone was at the front.

You began to walk inside, taking in the sight of the compound. The smell of coffee wafted through the air, music probably picked by Stark created the atmosphere as you walked inside. It was like you’d never left.

Wanda sat on the couches, talking to Clint. A fond smile twisted the corners of your lips as you made eye contact with the witch. Her eyes seemed to widen almost three times their size as she caught sight of you. Jumping out of her seat, a large grin crossed her face.

“Y/N!” Wanda exclaimed, running forwards to you.

You stumbled backward with the force of her hug, hand slipping from Yelena’s. Laughing, you hugged her back tightly. Her hands pulled you closer to her, scared you might leave if she let go of you. You smiled as her grip tightened, burrowing your face into her neck.

Her hair still smelt of the almond oil she used, along with the coconut shampoo you’d suggested to her many years ago. Some things never really change.

Clint shouted that you’d returned. You paid little to no heed to his screaming, until you heard rapid footsteps approaching you. Wanda didn’t seem to want to let go of you, despite the rest of your family coming to crowd around her.

Tapping her back lightly, she let you slip from her hold. Turning to face the team, your face grew into a huge grin. Bucky stood in the back, giving you a curt nod before moving to sit on one of the couches. Hugging the rest of the team, tears began to form in your eyes. It had been too long you were away from them.

Five years just felt like a number when you said it. But the weight of it settled on your shoulders as you talked to your family. Five was just a number, it truly had been too long.

Jokes and teasing circled in the room, Steve patted you on the shoulder with a light threat never to do this again. A part of you assumed he was joking, but he seemed too serious for you to laugh it off easily. They dragged you over to the couches.

The grin on your face grew as the compliments flew through the room. The way you looked now was far too different from when you left for them not to notice. You’d left looking as a corpse of who they used to know. Now, you were glowing with laughter and jokes as you talked with them.

Moments you knew you’d treasure flew by until they noticed Yelena standing to the side. She tried not to look awkward, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets as she watched you. You reached out a hand for her. She took it and sat down next to you, squeezing herself between you and Tony.

“Who is she?” Wanda asked, tilting her head to the side curiously. Her arm hooked around yours protectively, she rested her head on your shoulder.

“Yelena?” A voice sounded behind you before you could answer.

The voice was familiar, almost too familiar. Turning around your eyes caught onto the reason you’d been avoiding your family. She wasn’t the same person you’d remembered. Her hair was blonde, she still walked with confidence, but that stride broke once she saw you.

Your jaw clenched subtly, you turned back around to Wanda who looked at you in concern. Giving her a tight nod, you glanced towards Yelena. She looked from you towards her sister, uncertain if she should greet her.

Giving her a nod and a small smile, you squeezed her hand to let her know you’d be alright. Without any words exchanged, she went up to greet her.

“Natalia,” Yelena spoke, a smile slowly growing on her face at the sight of her sister. Both of them grinned at each other before hugging tightly.

Yelena was a bit stiff as she hugged her, Natasha’s unspoken mistake still loomed in the air. She hugged her tightly before letting her go. She talked to her in Russian for a bit, you couldn’t understand any of the words.

The rest of the team stared at them curiously, wondering who she was. It wasn’t until they rejoined you on the couches was it they asked. Yelena returned to your side, her hand sliding into yours by habit.

“Who is she?” Steve asked you, a frown ghosting his face. You could only assume he wanted to be protective of you again. Bucky sat at his side quietly, scared of ruining anything again.

“I’m Yelena Belova,” Yelena answered for herself, winking at you when you glanced towards her.

Another smile twisted the corner of your lips at the gesture as you looked around the rest of the team. Natasha’s features flickered for a moment, into hurt, maybe even fear. You couldn’t tell, she put up her mask again.

“How do you know y/n?” Tony asked, leaning forwards and letting his elbows rest on his knees. He looked at her as if he was judging her. You chuckled and patted Yelena’s thigh comfortingly before speaking.

“Guys stop interrogating her.” You chided, watching Tony chuckle before leaning back into the couch.

You weren’t sure why you were protective of Yelena. They were your family. After all, you doubted they were going to chase her away. Even if they could, you weren’t sure they would want to.

Starting a conversation with them, you joked around for a bit before roping Yelena into the conversation. It flowed easily; she added to the stories you told and the comments you made. The stories you told weaved together flawlessly.

Natasha wasn’t paying any attention to the story, her eyes staring at the engagement ring on your finger. Yelena’s hand was intertwined with yours, denying her view to see the ring she was sure was there. She wanted to say something, maybe congratulate you, lie that she was happy for you.

The words were already dry in her mouth as she stared. She was the first to notice the engagement, but the last to comment on it.

“Y/n/n you’re engaged?!” Wanda exclaimed, noticing the ring when you made a gesture with your left hand.

She took your hand in hers, jaw almost dropping over the size of the ring. Gorgeous was hardly the word to describe it. It was a rose gold solitaire adorned with diamonds on the band. The diamonds looked like they were woven into the band itself.

A grin plastered itself onto your face as the rest of the team started to fawn over your ring. Before any of them could ask who you were engaged to, Yelena put her hand next to yours. A ring was placed on her finger as well.

“We are,” Yelena stated, her grin matching yours as you turned to face her.

Neither of you seemed to notice Natasha sitting frozen on the couches. The ring on Yelena’s finger wasn’t just any ring. It was your mother's ring, the one you’d talked about proposing with. The same ring you swore would bring luck to any wedding.

The ring she had been so sure she would wear someday.

“When?” Natasha croaked, clearing her throat after she spoke. The attention turned to her, the team glaring at her. It was as if her speaking could somehow take you away again. Maybe it could if she wasn’t careful.

“Nat,” Wanda whispered angrily, a red wisp forming on Natasha’s elbow. Natasha winced, glaring at the witch before turning back to face you. The question hung in the air for a few seconds, but you didn’t fill the silence.

“A few months ago,” Yelena answered for you. You gave her a grateful smile before turning towards the rest of the team.

Nervousness showed in your eyes as you glanced around the room. Your fiance squeezed your thigh gently, helping build up your courage for the request she knew you wanted to say. Biting your lip tightly, you took in a breath.

“We um,” You glanced at Yelena who gave you a soft smile you sought comfort in. “we wanted you to come to our wedding.”

A moment of quiet passed over your words before happiness and laughter quickly filled the room. The rings continued to be fawned over as new wedding plans were made. Your wedding plans, even your savings for them hardly seemed to matter as Tony announced he would be paying for it. You knew you couldn’t talk him out of it, despite how you might try to.

The team talked about the kind of wedding you should have, a spring wedding, a grand ball, anything. Plans and ideas flew around the room, the only person never offering any being Natasha. She sat silently on the couch, staring at the ground.

Your eyes glanced towards her before flitting back to Yelena, smiling brightly at your fiance. The same smile you used to wear around her, the one she thought she could never get enough of. The same lovesick grin the rest of the team made fun of you for. It was for someone who wasn’t her.

Natasha got up quietly, offering Yelena a tight smile of congratulations before padding out of the room. Her footsteps hardly made any sound as she made the effort to leave your life the way it is.

The conversation flowed on behind her, your laughter floating through the room. The wedding date wasn’t fixed yet, you weren’t sure when you should have it. Better sooner than later, you never knew how long something might last.

This, your family, you hoped this would last forever.

————

The TV played on in the background as you talked to Wanda about wedding plans. She had long since agreed to become your maid of honor. The witch was adamant about making this wedding perfect, you smiled as you talked to her about the flowers for the wedding.

Yelena was still unsure about who should be her best man/woman. Natasha was her first choice for it, but she wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with it. You’d told her you’d be alright with it, still, she waited in case.

The popcorn seemed to be taking a little longer than it should have. You’d offered to help her with it, but the blonde declined your offer, adamant she could do it on her own. You continued talking to Wanda about your wedding plans, unsure what kind of flowers you should have.

Wanda began saying that roses were a better idea, you weren’t paying much attention as you saw Natasha enter the room. Your eyes flitted over to her, your expression faltering for an instant. Bringing your mask back up, you nodded to Wanda to show you were listening. She didn’t buy it, glancing behind her. Noticing Natasha, she turned back to you, continuing her conversation.

“Hey, y/n…” Natasha trailed off, fidgeting with her fingers as she stood behind the couch. You turned to face her, giving her a tight nod. Wanda stopped talking, turning around to face the assassin.

“Hello.” You greeted, turning back to the movie. Even you weren’t willing to pretend everything was okay with her. The witch glanced between both of you before locking her gaze onto Natasha.

“Can I talk to you?” She asked, her weight shuffling on her feet. She glanced from you to Wanda, the witch glared at her angrily. Ignoring her gaze, she turned back to face you. You weren’t looking at her, your eyes looking at Yelena.

Your fiance gave you a supportive nod, the popcorn still in her hands. The look of concern on her face told you she would be here for you if things went south. You nodded at her, smiling gratefully then turning towards Natasha. 

Your smile dissipated the instant you looked at her, your eyes which were full of adoration only moments ago were empty, too empty.

“Alright.” You nodded.

Natasha smiled at you, hoping you would return it. Your face remained blank, prompting her to lead you to somewhere more private. The assassin sighed softly, hoping you wouldn’t hear her disappointment but wanting you to.

She walked towards her room, the same room you called home before leaving. Looking inside, you saw that not much had changed. It seemed all too familiar. Everything from the decorations, to the way the bed was made, even some of the pictures were your own.

Bile rose to your throat when you looked at a picture of the two of you on your anniversary. A glass of champagne was in your hand, your lips on her cheek, the corner of your mouth quirked into a grin. A grin plastered on Natasha’s face, her arm wrapped around your waist.

You picked up the frame from her bedside, aware of Natasha’s eyes watching your movements. A sigh left your lips as you looked at it.

The moment frozen in time. You let yourself fall back into time, experiencing that night over again. How ecstatic you were about spending 3 years with Natasha, three whole years. The nervousness about the party. The emotions were still frozen in the picture, you wished you could rid yourself of them.

“What do you need to talk about?” You croaked, swallowing as you set down the picture frame. Standing awkwardly on the edge of the bed, you fidgeted with your fingers as Natasha took a seat on the bed.

“Why did you come back?” She asked, her voice betraying no emotion. You swallowed, eyes flitting towards the ground instead.

“You and I both know it’s not just because I asked you to.” She continued, eyes watching you carefully. You sighed and looked up at her, shuffling back slightly. Natasha patted the spot on the bed for you to sit, you stepped forwards, then stopped.

It was the same bed she had broken you in. The same bed you’d sworn to be by each other’s side forever. The broken promises still lingered in the air like smoke. Breathing it in, you clenched your jaw tightly. Shaking your head, you shuffled backward and leaned against the wall.

Why did you come back? 

It wasn’t because she asked you to. You weren’t sure it was because you wanted your family at your wedding. maybe it was to see her again, to prove how much better you were without her.

To show her what she lost.

“Remember what I told you then?” You asked, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at her. The words were a bit hazy in your mind, somewhat like a nightmare you had a long time ago.

“Will I, will I ever see you again?” Natasha asked timidly, hope underlining her tone. She couldn’t stop you from leaving her with her mistakes. All she could do was hope for your return. Upon seeing your expression, that seemed unlikely.

“If the entire world turns upside down, you might.” You said a halfhearted joke as you turned towards the door.

Leaving your things behind, leaving your entire family behind. There wasn’t anything here for you anymore. 

“I don’t think I can forget,” Natasha murmured, the words as clear as day in her mind. The day you’d left, she couldn’t forget it. Your broken smile when walked out of her life haunted her, despite the pictures of your happiness she surrounded herself with.

“I told you that you might see me again if the world turns upside down.” You repeated, voice shaking. You cleared your throat, chuckling lightly as you leaned back against the wall. Your eyes roamed the room, taking in every detail before meeting Natasha’s eyes.

“It kind of did, didn’t it?” You chuckled, tilting your head.

Your life didn’t take the turn you’d expected. The plan was to marry Natasha, hopefully, grow old with her. Maybe get a house by the beach and have twins. That was what the plan had always been. It was still there, the house by the beach, the playground for your kids.

Natasha was the only change.

“I found everything I wanted in someone you consider your family.” You continued, hands moving to rest behind your back.

A smile crossed your face as you thought of Yelena. The way her lips quirked up into a smile, even at your bad jokes, the comfort of how her skin felt against yours, the sound of her voice when she’d just woken up. 

She was all yours, you had the pride of calling her your fiance.

“You found something in someone I considered my brother.” You muttered, your thoughts turning towards Bucky.

Hurt flashed across your features before you masked it quickly, turning to look up at her. The blonde fidgeted at your words, nibbling her lip and looking away from you.

“Bucky and I,” Natasha began, licking her lips. “we aren’t, we aren’t together.”

Your eyebrows raised, you’d thought Bucky was who she’d be running to for comfort after you. It had only made sense that she should leave you for another relationship. But just for sex, that was lower than even you thought she could stoop.

“That’s a surprise.” You mused, turning to look away from her and the bed.

An uncomfortable silence shrouded the room, suffocating you. You didn’t know how to break it. Small talk was the last thing on your mind. Thinking you should leave, you shifted your weight and put one foot forwards before the blonde spoke.

“I’m surprised if you remember my name,” Natasha whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. A frown etched into her face as tears began to line her eyes.

“What?” You asked, hoping you heard her wrong. Her voice was rarely quiet, only taking a lower stance when she was scared. It hurt a little she was scared, or even upset because of you.

“The way you look at me,” She continued, knowing you heard her. “it’s like you don’t even remember me.”

You hesitated, letting her words take their place. Your mask dropped, eyes looking down at the ground as a sad smile twisted your lips. Of course, she would bring this up, you had never looked at her this way like she never meant anything to you. 

“I used to look at you like you were my world.” You muttered, shaking your head lightly. You wished you were lying. You wished you hadn’t made her your world just to let her take it away from you.

“It’s almost ironic you took it away from me.” You whispered, looking up to face her. The mask you made just for her began to shatter. A tear slipped down your face, sliding across your face until it dropped onto the floor.

“I never meant to,” Natasha whispered, voice shaking as she saw you cry because of her, again. Her hand reached out towards your face, stopping she realized it wasn’t her place. Her words made you snap, your head whipping up to face her.

“It doesn’t matter what you meant to do Na-” You stopped yourself before you could say her name.

You didn’t know why you couldn’t say her name. You’d called her everything from Tasha to Nattie, you didn’t know why it was so hard for you. It was hardly a surprise when you couldn’t even think of her without hurting.

“Say it,” Natasha demanded, head snapping up to yours. Tears grew in her waterline, her voice breaking as she moved forwards. You swallowed thickly, pushing yourself further into the wall.

“Say my name, please.” She begged, looking up at you pleadingly. A tear slipped out of her eye, she retreated as her hands moved to wipe it away hastily.

You took in a shaky breath, wanting nothing more than to leave things the way they were. Closure was a gift you never got. The wounds were still torn open no matter how much you tried to stitch them shut. Saying her name would tear you apart, all over again.

“Does it still hurt you to think about me?” Natasha asked when you stayed silent. Her eyes looked at you imploringly, almost begging you for an answer.

How could it not hurt?

Thinking about her always brought back memories, always the good memories. The best of what you were, never the worst. The memories showed you everything you were, how she brought out the best part of you.

It also showed you what she took away.

“Yes.” You answered, just when Natasha was beginning to think you might stay silent.

Natasha flinched back as if you’d physically hurt her. Her mask was in pieces, she didn’t care about the emotions she was showing. Every attempt she made to try to calm herself, to stop feeling, it never worked.

“Do you have any idea what you did to me?” You asked, incredulous she had even asked you if it still hurt. The blonde didn’t respond, staying silent in fear she might hurt you more.

“You took away everything I gave you, and then more.” You said, breath leaving you in harsh pants. your hand ran through your hair as you began pacing in the room. Natasha’s eyes never left you, even as her vision grew blurry with tears.

“The peace I felt around you, the home you’d made for me,” You shouted, tears slipping down your face. “all of it.”

You wiped your face hastily with your hands, watching them come away wet with tears and mascara. All your pain was out in the open for her to see. The pain was caused by her mistakes. You cowered into yourself, leaning back against the closet.

Trying desperately to slow your breathing, you rested your head on the door. Staring up at the ceiling, you let the lights blind you for a treasured few seconds. Blinking rapidly, you looked back at Natasha. She watched you with emerald eyes you’d let yourself get lost in too many times.

“It still hurts when I think of you.” You whispered, looking her in the eyes.

Natasha’s jaw clenched, blinking to try to stop her tears. She turned around to look at the rest of the room. The pictures of you still decorated the walls the way they used to when you were still here. The decorations you’d bought for the room, even some of your clothes were in her closet.

Never could she let you go.

“I never stopped thinking of you.” She admitted, turning slowly to look back at you. It was still somewhat like a dream, to have you here with her. A dream she was too scared to wake up from to let you go.

“You should.” You said, sighing after. You backed up slightly, wiping away the remaining tears on your face. 

Mascara stained your hands and your sleeves. You didn’t know what Natasha wanted from you, you could only assume she wanted you back in her life, even after you’d been adamant about keeping away.

“I’m not giving you my heart again,” You stated, glancing away from her. “it doesn’t matter what you promise me.”

Some truth remained in your words. Even if she promised you the world, or for her to be better, you wouldn’t give up your world for her again. Your heart was once something you gave away carelessly to her. You didn’t want to repeat your mistake.

“I don’t want that from you,” Natasha said, catching your attention. Your gaze flitted back to her as a confused frown ghosted your features. The frown etched itself onto your face as she let the silence slowly drag on.

“What do you want from me?” You asked, watching her wince back slightly. She straightened her stance as if she was preparing herself for something. Silence dragged on as she prepared herself for pain before finally speaking.

“I want you to forgive me.”

Your mouth opened to yell at her, to scream that what she did was near unforgivable. For her to even think that you could forgive her after everything. You’d told her what she had taken away from you, and she still thought she could be forgiven.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Natasha stated before you could speak. Her hand lifted in a plead for you to hear her out. 

Your mouth closed but opened again as you considered keeping your silence. The blonde didn’t care for your silence, wanting you to hear the apology she had ran over thousands of times in her head.

“Please, I never meant to hurt you.” She repeated, knowing it wasn’t the apology you wanted to hear.

She swore she could not have prepared more for this moment. For having you in front of her so she could apologize to you. Even practicing in the mirror, over and over again didn’t help her. Seeing you in front of her, breaking all over again because she couldn’t be who you wanted her to.

It wasn’t something she had prepared for.

“Maybe it was unfair for me to fall in love with you in the first place when I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep you. I’m sorry.” She apologized, guiltily shifting her feet under her. Her legs dangled over the edge of the bed, she looked at them thoughtfully.

It wasn’t fair for her to try to be in a relationship when she couldn’t keep one. Maybe with you, she thought it would be different. But even you couldn’t change the mistakes she would make. Even at the start of your relationship, she knew she would hurt you somehow. You assured her that she couldn’t.

In the end, her mistakes would always come to haunt her.

“Falling in love wasn’t your mistake,” You spoke, bringing her attention up to you. “it was unfair of you to try to treasure something you knew you couldn’t keep.”

It was unfair of her, so unfair to lead you on for years, give you everything you knew you wanted. To make plans for the future, you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with her, so clearly. Then to take it all away again, just because she knew she couldn’t keep you.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha repeated, trying to make you stay. You could see her hand reach out for you before stopping herself.

A sigh left your lips as you moved down to kneel in front of her. Your fingertips hovered over hers before moving away. You whispered to try to get her attention, it didn’t work. Your hands slid into hers, squeezing gently.

She opened her eyes in surprise, looking at your hands in hers, the engagement ring adorning your finger. Her hands gripped yours tightly as if you were a lifeline.

Tears began to fall on your hands. You wanted to try to comfort her more, but this was all you could do. It was almost as if you were leaving her all over again, promising to say out of her life.

“Natasha,” You whispered, smiling when she looked up at you. Her eyes were so soft, so vulnerable in this moment.

Your thumbs slid over the skin of her hand, you looked at her carefully. She was still the woman you’d fallen head over heels for. But Natasha couldn’t be the person you spent the rest of your life with.

“Our time is over.” You said softly, wincing when she turned away from you. More tears dropped onto your palms. Her hands held onto yours tightly, you slipped one out of her grip to turn her face towards yours.

“We had our time together,” You continued, smiling at the fond memories of her. “and yeah it was beautiful.”

This is what you’d been missing all of these years.

Letting go.

It wasn’t as easy as moving to the other side of the world. It was looking her in the eye and saying that your time was over. It was letting both of you heal from the mistakes.

“I just wish we could have lasted longer,” Natasha whispered, clinging onto your hands tightly. She’d told you before that you were the best thing that ever happened to her. You were, it was foolish of her to cut your time so short.

“Maybe, but we weren’t beautiful because we lasted.” You said, tugging her attention back up to you.

 A light frown ghosted her face at your words. Your eyes gazed over her features, committing them to memory. The emerald eyes, soft cheekbones, the features you had grown to love.

“It was beautiful because it happened.” You whispered, your thumb tracing over her cheekbone gently.

A smile graced your lips, a tear falling from your eye onto your hands. A sigh left your lips as you moved up, leaning down you closed your eyes. Your lips met her forehead gently, her hands tugged you closer. You smiled, as she let go of you, letting you pull away.

A knock sounded on the door, you turned to face it, knowing it was Yelena.

“Come in.” You said, slowly wiping the tears away from your eyes. Yelena stepped into the room, taking in the scene in front of her. She glanced towards her sister wiping her face on her sleeves, giving her a sympathetic smile before turning towards you.

“Hey,” Yelena greeted, moving to slide her hand into yours. You smiled as her shoulder bumped against yours. “everything alright?”

“Yeah just,” You glanced towards Natasha. The blonde looked up at the two of you, no longer looking hurt. Instead, she looked at you with a gentle smile, finding herself finally letting go of you.

“Just catching up.” You answered, smiling up at Yelena.

She looked from you to Natasha, nodding at her sister. She would want to talk to her later, you were sure of it, but now wasn’t the time. Nodding towards the door, silently asking if you wanted to leave. You nodded letting her walk you out.

“wait.” You said, stopping in your tracks. A confused look showed on her face as your hand slipped out of hers, heading back to Natasha. Your fiance followed you back, leaning against the doorframe.

“I, I want you to come to our wedding.” You stuttered, shifting your weight. Wringing your hands together, you looked to face her. She looked unsure, her eyes glancing from your ring to her sister.

“Are you sure you want me there?” She asked, tilting her head to the side curiously. You nodded, looking back at Yelena. The blonde smiled at you, knowing it was hard for you to do this. You sought comfort in her smile, nodding again at Natasha.

“Lena considers you as her family,” You said, shrugging easily. “it’s only fair.”

Lena, the nickname was so familiar coming from you. Natasha raised an eyebrow, seeing as you didn’t answer her question. You chuckled softly at the action. She could always tell you had a different answer than what you said.

“I want you there,” You stated, watching her features light up into a smile. She nodded, looking from you to your fiance. Yelena looked certain she wanted Natasha to be there. She smiled and nodded.

“I’ll be there,” Natasha said.

You smiled in relief, waving at her as you walked out of the room. Yelena’s arm slid around your waist, her fingers reaching towards the ring you wore. Her fingers twisted them around your finger thoughtfully.

She didn’t know what you’d talked about with Natasha. But you were in a lighter mood, easily walking around the compound, telling more stories. You were more at ease, the closure bringing you in a different state of mind.

Years ago, you wouldn’t have even considered coming back here. The memories near painful for you. Now, the memories seemed like a story you told a long time ago. You thought the story had ended when you left.

But now, you’d finally let go.

In a way, it was a good thing the world turned upside down.

A/N: Please for the sake of my sanity reblog and comment and tell me what you think!!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria​, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart  , @never-didbefore​ , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss​ , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero  , @a-stressedstudent​ , @aaron-despair , @rooskaya-yelena , @dynnealberto , @thewitchandtheassassin , @wannabe-fic-reader , @izalesbean​, @higherfurther-romanova​  , @natalia-quinzel  , @stephanieromanoff , @fayhar​ , @darkangelxoxo-blog   let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[theweasleysredhair]

I Wish It Was Me [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 2179

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: She loves Fred, he loves someone else... right?

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: Very angsty, very fluffy. Based on the song “Heather” by Conan Gray! Requested - enjoy, nonnie!

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

You’d loved Fred a long time. Ever since that first passing greeting on the Hogwarts Express at the tender age of 11 before you even knew what love really was. He was full of life, energetic, funny, reckless. He was like a firework, bright and cheerful, always up for a laugh and causing mischief. Rough around the edges, sure, and sometimes a tad insensitive but somehow it made you love him more.

He had no idea - at least, you didn’t think he did. There were times, fleeting moments, where you were convinced maybe he did, and maybe he felt the same way, but then he’d flirt with some Hufflepuff 6th year or Ravenclaw 5th year and reality would hit you. He was one of your best friends.

You tried your best to push your feelings down, to try and get over him, but every time you thought you’d gotten a handle on yourself, he’d shoot a smirk your way or run a hand through his messy ginger hair or throw an arm around your shoulder or, worse, just throw a flirty, cocky remark at you and suddenly you’d be back to square one.

You suppose you couldn’t blame anyone else for falling for him. It was so easy for you after all, as easy as breathing. You didn’t have to think about it, it just happened and one day you realised his smile could put you into a good mood, his laugh could make your whole week.

Didn’t mean it was easy watching someone else fall for him though. You noticed right away when she started having feelings for him. She’d stutter, suddenly sit up straighter when he was around, smile more. At first it didn’t bother you - Fred always sat beside you, always involved you in conversations. Sometimes you’d notice him staring at you. He’d even give you his sweater to wear - it was warm and soft and smelled like him. “Looks better on you than me,” he would say, grinning at the way the sleeves would end long past the tips of your fingers and the bottom of the sweater would reach your mid-thigh.

Then suddenly it stopped. He stopped sitting beside you, stopped talking to you as much, stopped staring and stopped giving you his sweaters. Because suddenly, he fell for her. He had asked her to the Yule Ball, when you (and George, for that matter) were sure he was going to ask you (George asked you to go as friends instead and you had to ignore the sight of Fred and Angelina dancing all night). And it was her he was sitting beside, her he was speaking to, her he was staring at and her who was wearing his sweaters. That first time you saw her sat in his knitted jumper - the one with the large ‘F’ on the front - you swore you felt all the air leave your lungs.

It hurt.

It hurt like nothing you’d experienced before. You’d say hello to him in the hallways and receive nothing but a friendly nod before his attention was back on her. You’d try to speak to him at meals, but his focus was on her. You’d sit beside him, but go unnoticed.

You couldn’t blame him. Angelina Johnson was beautiful. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, effortlessly cool. Everything you wished you were but afraid you’d never be.

Everything you tried to be.

But you were tired of trying. Or trying to be okay. Of trying to even be his friend at this point - it hurt too much to watch them together. The way his eyes lit up as he looked at her, the way he smiled at her. You’d witnessed them kissing too many times than you wanted to admit, your heart aching as you wished it was you.

It felt like he was disappearing from you. And you knew George felt the same. Whilst they still spent time together, it was nowhere near as often as before, and you knew it was getting to George.

The more time Fred spent with Angelina, the more you spent with George. Something you were often reminded of was how smart the twins truly were and it took less than a week for George to realise you had feelings for his brother.

You denied them when he asked, but then he just looked so much like his brother yet was so different - that much kinder, that much more sensitive - that you couldn’t help but spill your secret. That you’d loved Fred for 6 years. Telling George made you feel simultaneously better and worse. Better because now you had someone to confide in and to help you through it but worse because admitting your feelings made them so much more real. And that was scary.

You saw Fred less and less, partly due to his new relationship but mostly due to your decision to avoid him. George had tried to discourage you, but he saw how much it was hurting you to see Fred and Angelina and began helping you avoid him instead where possible.

You didn’t think Fred would notice. You noticed his absence greatly of course, but you didn’t think he would be focused on your absence. That was, until one day you were leaving your potions class and you suddenly found yourself pressed between a wall and someone’s chest.

Your heart was beating as you looked up at the culprit, staring into the deep eyes of Fred Weasley.

“Why’ve you been avoiding me, love?”

His voice was low and he was staring down at you with such intensity that you had to look away.

“I’ve not-“

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted you, “You’re worrying me - why have you been avoiding me?”

His warm breath was hitting your face and you couldn’t help but shiver, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was because of the cold from being in the dungeons or the proximity between you and the boy you loved.

As if he’d just realised how close he was to you - his chest was pressed against yours and his hands resting either side of your head - he stepped back a bit, pushing his ginger hair out of his face as he looked at you expectedly, although a hand was resting on your shoulder as if he half anticipated you running away.

Which now you thought about it, wasn’t such a bad idea.

“I um... I’ve been avoiding a lot of people, not just you. I’m just going through something and-“

“You’re not avoiding George,” he said softly as his hand dropped from your shoulder. A flash of hurt crossed his features but he covered it up quickly.

“He’s been helping me.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come to me? Why George?” His hurt tone made you wince - the last thing you ever wanted to do was cause him any pain.

“You’ve been kinda busy with... with Angelina recently I- I didn’t want to bother you,” you pressed your lips into a straight line and looked down - suddenly your shoes were very interesting.

“You could’ve still come to me. I would’ve made time for you. We’re friends - best friends last time I checked. I thought you trusted both me and George. Not just- not just George.”

“I couldn’t... I can’t tell you,” you said helplessly.

“Why?”

“I just can’t!”

“Don’t you trust me?” He whispered, that same hurt look flashing through his eyes.

“I do trust you Fred I just can’t... I didn’t think it was a good idea to come to you with this certain problem I have. You wouldn’t be able to help because even I can’t help it,” you tried to explain.

He looked like he was still fighting the hurt he felt and you sighed. “I’m bloody in love with you and you love Angelina,” you said quietly, “And I thought I could handle it but I can’t. I can’t because it hurts too much. I love you, Fred. And it’s crazy because I’m so young but I know how I feel and that’s it. And-and I know you have Angelina. And that’s fine, it is, but I couldn’t be around you for a while. I didn’t think you’d notice, I didn’t think- I never thought- I-“

“You love me?” He asked, his eyes slightly wider than usual.

“Yes.”

He was silent for a while and you could feel your heart beating faster and faster.

“Fred?” You whispered, “Please... say something.”

“I’m with Angelina. You know that. I like her,” He scratched the back of his neck and stayed silent for a moment and you swallowed, nodding.

Your lips trembled and you fought to keep a tear from falling, “I know... I know. And I could never be her and I wouldn’t want to get in between you both so... that’s why I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I’m happy. I am happy,” he said determinedly, “I’m taken, I can’t-“

“I know Freddie,” you said softly, “I’m sorry. I never meant to tell you, I was trying to get over you. I just... I-I’m gonna go.”

Fred watched helplessly as your figure retreated down the hallway and disappeared around a corner.

“I loved you, Y/n,” he finally admitted to the empty space where you once stood. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the floor, sighing before shaking his head, “I love you.”

***

“Y/n, have you seen Freddie?” George asked as he ran to fall in line with you walking back to your common room.

“Haven’t in a few days, since...” your voice trailed off and George nodded. “I’m assuming you’ve heard him and Angelina broke up?”

You came to an abrupt stop and your head whipped over to look up at the tall younger twin, “What?!”

He shot you a cheeky grin, “Freddie broke up with her- look!” He nodded down the hall at where Angelina was stood extremely closely in front of a 7th year Ravenclaw, whose hand was on her waist, her giggling up at him.

Your jaw dropped, “But-“

“You know, if I were you, I’d go find my less attractive brother. I reckon he might have something to say to you,” George winked dramatically, “He’s on the Quidditch pitch.”

You frowned in confusion, “What? But I thought you were just looking... for him?”

George shrugged, “Maybe I made up a reason to talk about Freddie... and to show you Angelina’s new boy.”

“You cheeky-“

“Go get him,” George cut you off with a gentle nudge towards the direction of the pitch.

With a nod, you made your way outside, before realising rain was falling fast and drenching you to the bone. You pulled your cloak further around you, pushing wet strands of hair out of your face as you rushed over the grass, your eyes falling on a familiar figure.

“Fred, what are you doing?” You called out.

As you headed closer, you saw him look up at you and grin, “What do you think I’m doing, love? Quidditch practice!”

“It’s chucking it down out here!” You exclaimed. He leant on his broom as he watched you walk over to him.

“I heard you broke up with Angelina. Or, well, Georgie told me and I saw her with, you know.”

He nodded, his rain-soaked hair sticking to his cheeks as you came to a stop in front of him.

“Did he tell you why I broke up with her?”

You shook your head.

“Because of this,” and suddenly he’d crashed his lips to yours.

It was a desperate kiss, one that made your toes curl as he dropped his broom to the ground to grip your hips. It was mostly a clashing of teeth to begin with and you hit his nose with your own a couple of times before you both began moving in sync, ignoring how the rain was falling down around you.

He pulled away slightly, staring down at you the way you always dreamed he would - but the reality was better.

He rested his forehead against your own, both of you shivering from the cold yet in no hurry to get back inside. The corner of his lips turnee upwards into a smirk, “It’s you, darling. You’re it for me. Fuck- I love you. I have for years. You never seemed like you felt the same so I assumed you didn’t feel the same. You never said anything so I tried to get over you but... I couldn’t be with Angelina any more when I found out you were an option - the best option. The only option I want.”

As he leant down to kiss you again, standing with you in his arms, your clothes soaked through and your shoes filling with water, you couldn’t help the smile that began to creep onto your face. You’d thought about this moment over and over again, and now... now it was finally happening.

And it was better than you could have ever imagined.

[vynegar]

vyn electrifying night ssr, part five

it’s the day of the competition!

same disclaimer and notes from part one.

youtube link to OwO雯雯‘s video of the card story

links to other parts: one two three four

do not repost

PART FIVE

(36:20)

Break room

On the day of the competition, I arrived half an hour early to the underground bar Russell.

At the door, I happened to come across band members getting some fresh air. With their guidance I was able to quietly slip into the preparation room.

MC: (Oh! It's Dr. Richter...)

He was leaning against the dressing table. His already exquisite facial features were now adorned with makeup, and he wasn’t in the least inferior to any popular models.

He seemed to notice me in the mirror’s reflection and stood up, slightly surprised.

Vyn: I didn’t expect to see you here...

MC: Sorry, am I bothering you?

Vyn: No, you’re not a bother. I’m just trying to get used to some of the emotions I’m supposed to have before going onstage, that’s all.

MC: So you’ve already found the right feeling for the performance?

Vyn: Yes. If everything goes well, I should be able to show a decent performance.

MC: That’s great! When I got here, I saw there were lots of fans of the band outside, and I’m sure that with you joining today, they’ll gain even more.

In contrast with my excitement, Vyn was unusually calm.

Vyn: So, you hope that I’ll be seen by more people?

(37:14)

CHOICE: “Of course I do” or “I have mixed feelings”

MC: Well of course! You’ve been practicing so hard lately, and I hope that all your efforts can be rewarded.

Vyn: I also hope my efforts can be rewarded, but...

Vyn looked earnestly at me.

Vyn: It doesn’t matter to me whether I have the support of other people. I just want to be seen by you.

MC: !!!

CHOICE: “Of course I do” or “I have mixed feelings”

[37:35 – 37:48 in this video by Sherry’s Gaming Notes; again, not my video, go support them with likes/comment/subscribe!]

MC: ...To be honest, I don’t know. I think I have some mixed feelings about it.

Vyn smiled after he heard that, confident, as if he saw through the thoughts that I myself hadn’t even been aware of.

Vyn: But I think you do know.

MC: !!!

Vyn: Don’t worry. Whatever worries or misgivings you have, none of them will happen.

I lowered my head, trying to conceal my cheeks which were starting to heat up under his burning gaze.

Flustered, I took out my phone and looked at the time, then hastily reminded him.

MC: Dr., Dr. Richter, there are only ten minutes until you go onstage, is there anything else I can help with preparing before the competition?

After a slight pause, he sat back at the dressing table.

Vyn: Then could you help me fix my hair again? I'm not very good at it, I seem to have tied it a bit loosely.

MC: Sure! No problem.

I'd been tying back hair since I was little, so I've long since been familiar with doing it.

I took out the hair tie and used a comb to carefully brush Vyn's hair to be neat, then retied it.

After it was all finished, I looked up again and happened to meet his smiling eyes in the mirror.

Vyn: Thank you. I've heard that combing someone's hair has some wonderful meanings*. Hopefully it will bring me good luck for my upcoming performance.

MC: ...Yeah, good luck! I'll be watching you from the audience.

(38:28)

Underground bar's stage

Because this wasn't a conventional performance venue, there weren't any fixed seats for the audience.

When I returned to the area in front of the stage, it was already packed with noisy audience members.

MC: (Oh no... This position is so far back that I can't see Dr. Richter at all from here...)

The host began announcing the lineup, and as the first band in this competition, Vyn's group was already adjusting their equipment.

Hearing the music begin, I hurriedly searched all around me.

MC: (Ah! There's still some space at the side of the stage, if I try my hardest I can probably squeeze my way there...)

Not caring how I looked, I apologized as I fought my way through the energized crowd, trying to approach the stage.

Finally, I made it to where I could clearly see the whole stage before the end of the performance.

MC: (...It's Dr. Richter!)

(39:00)

The blinding multicolored lights flickered in time with the pulse of the song, igniting the energy in the atmosphere to its peak.

Audience member 1: Louis!!! Hot lead singer!!!

Louis: And now... Vilhelm! Come!**

The climax of the song was a solo near the end, and Vyn followed the spotlight into the center of the stage –

The audience members below were briefly dazed, then quickly burst into screams that were even more intense than before.

Audience member 1: Vilhelm!!!

Audience member 2: Look over here, Vilhelm!

MC: (Amazing! As expected from Dr. Richter!)

Vyn ignored the cacophony around him, his fingers dancing across his keyboard, enthusiastic and fully absorbed in his performance...

The digital sound system amplified his impassioned performance to the entire audience, and as he released his emotions without inhibition, there was a kind of force that stirred the audience.

Once I could react, I couldn't help but scream along with the crowd, joining into their shouts.

MC: Go Vilhelm!!!

In the moment, the stage's fervor continuously rose along with the resounding cheers.

Beads of sweat dripped down from his jaw and his tank top was soaked with sweat, giving off a distinctive tension.

Vyn: It was thanks to you that I was able to perform today.

When the performance was nearing its end, Vyn suddenly grabbed the standing microphone on the stage.

Vyn: It was you who gave me the courage to challenge myself, so today's performance doesn't just belong to me...

His eyes seemed to be directed toward the audience, but everyone there knew that his words were said to one person in particular.

Everyone followed his gaze, searching for the person that this beautiful keyboardist favored.

Vyn: This performance belongs to you too. It’s dedicated to you.

Through the raucous crowd, the passion in those golden eyes met my gaze.

The clamor, the roar of the crowd, it seemed like mountains and oceans separated us, but...

Vyn: I hope you like it.

But the words you said to me sounded like they were right next to my ear.

(40:33)

After the performance ended, host seemed to still be immersed in the lingering sound. He stood there dazed for several seconds before remembering he still needed to quickly interview them.

Host: That was brilliant! Truly brilliant! I wanted to record it so I could watch it every day on repeat!

Host: First, I wanted to ask this new member who ended the song: you played so well today, what was going through your mind during the performance? Tell us what you were feeling.

Vyn: Feeling...?

Host: Yeah, like excitement, or nervousness, why don’t you tell us what you were thinking? I’m sure your fans in the audience are very curious too!

Following the host’s words, Vyn’s gaze turned to below the stage.

Vyn: At the time, I felt... a kind of fear that I’d never felt before.

MC: (Huh?)

Vyn: Before going onstage, I felt scared because I was worried that I’d make mistakes during my performance.

Vyn: But the moment that the performance ended without a hitch, those feelings of fear still hadn’t subsided.

Vyn: Immediately after, I started to worry whether or not in the future, I’d still be able to give her novel experiences like the one today.

Vyn: I was even scared that... after seeing me perform, she might feel disappointment towards my true self in my personal life.

MC: ...

Host: Haha, if I may be bold enough to ask, does the “she” that you’re talking about refer to the fans who are here right now?

Vyn slightly nodded.

Vyn: It refers to a certain one of the fans here.

Vyn didn’t indicated who exactly this person was.

But up until the whole performance had come to an end, I could feel his gaze on me, not leaving for even a second.

(42:08)

Break room

Back in the break room, Vyn wiped at the thin layer of sweat on his forehead and sat on the sofa, letting out a long exhale.

Next to him, Louis smiled and tossed him a bottle of water, then sat beside him.

Louis: Not bad, Vilhelm, you almost stole the spotlight from me, and I’m the lead singer.

Louis: Based on what you said just now, now you can probably understand first-hand what I had been feeling back then...

Vyn paid no attention to Louis’s Schadenfreude-tinged teasing; his expression was calm as usual.

Vyn: Rather than worrying about me, let’s talk about you. How did you feel when you were up on the stage just now?

Vyn: If I haven’t heard incorrectly, your voice seems to be a bit shaky.

Louis: It’s true, I still feel scared. For a moment, I even felt like my mind was completely blank...

Louis: Do you have any good suggestions? Dr. Richter.

Vyn twisted open the water bottle, and only after taking several gulps did he slowly begin to speak.

Vyn: If my current self were in your position, this would probably be my advice...

Vyn: The reason you fear the stage isn’t because you hate it. Actually it’s the exact opposite, I think it’s because you love it too much.

Vyn: You love those audience members who support you, so you worry that your performance will fall short and disappoint them.

Vyn: Louis, it’s not a mistake to follow your passion. You don’t need to regret your past choices.

Louis: ...Then what about the future?

Vyn: As for your future choices, my suggestion is... anything.

Vyn: This performance was a success. Even if you don’t win in the end, you should be able to gain a considerable amount of popularity and opportunities from it.

Vyn: You can continue performing, continuously challenging yourself, striving to give more surprises to your fans.

Vyn: Or, if you really can’t transform this fear into motivation, you can give up because of that.

Vyn: After this performance, those fans will probably always remember how cool you were...

Vyn: In the end, what exactly you want to do is all up to you.

After speaking, Vyn stood up and threw the plastic bottle into the trash, preparing to leave the break room.

When he got to the door, Louis, who had been silent the entire time, suddenly called out to him.

Louis: Vilhelm, since you said that you could empathize with me, then tell me now – if it were you... what would you choose?

Vyn: ...Me?

Vyn stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Louis, not the slightest hint of uncertainty in his expression.

Vyn: If it were me, then before choosing I would first consider how important the other person is to me.

Vyn: Then I would ask myself, compared to being scared of disappointing them, am I more scared of drifting apart from them...

[END PART FIVE]

[PART SIX]

*There are meanings behind combs in Chinese culture, especially when given as a gift. I will just link this video (which is Jin Yamashina’s translation of one of the 1st anniversary cards, spoiler warning) because footnote 10 explains it well. Also, another more modern meaning I saw was wishing someone luck and prosperity (this idea is based on how the words sound similar to a different way to say “comb”).

** “Vilhelm! Come!” in English

[thegardenfairywrites]

Soothing

THERE WAS something that always makes Shoto Todoroki smile in days where he doesn't have to focus on school stuff. Something he deemed to be the right recipe for delight on Sunday mornings where everyone does their own things, like they would normally do in the weekends, may it be with their friends or their partners.

Shoto was thinking of the same thing. He always anticipated Sunday to come. Where the temperature in your room is just right without the pesky afternoon heat bothering the two of you. The atmosphere ever so vibrant and the scent of you is strong that he could drown in it, not that he minded that though. He thinks.

Every Sunday, after the whole six days of school and hero training was done, he would immediately go to your room after taking his morning exercise and shower. It usually ends around nine am, where he'll find you coming out of the shower, freshly cleaned and your hair slightly damp even though you have been drying it with your towel for a while.

The last time you left it drip down your shoulder, Iida scolded you, knowing very well that you should dry it, or else someone may slip on it. But that story is for another time.

Anyway, back to the plot. You smiled as you saw your favorite classmate going in through the main door with his arm muscle in display, beads of perspiration littering his forehead and the maroon and ivory locks were damp as well from sweat.

You waved towards him and walked back to your dorm, knowing full well that the dual-haired boy will follow suit after cleaning himself from morning exercise. You looked at him from over your shoulder, seeing him perk up like a puppy, as he speed walked to the shower room to get ready. You giggled from those said actions, nevertheless quickly going to your dorm room to get the bed ready for the two of you to occupy on.

He was quick with his actions as well, taking a shower almost hastily, however barely noticeable for someone who doesn't watch his actions and expressions well. There was a small smile plastered on his immaculate face, adorning so well with his features. it almost made you squeal from the cuteness and the prettiness he brings with him daily, hitting one of your weak spots and actually making you swoon like you've never swooned before.

You sighed after fixing the pillows of your bed, adjusting the lights in your room. Not too bright but not too dark. It's just right for Todoroki's liking. You smiled and before you can even go and sit on your bed, you suddenly jolt from the consecutive knocks from the door.

You let out a giggle and immediately went to the door to meet your guest of the day, Shoto Todoroki, looking as charming as ever. His hair damp from the shower, and the ever so hesitant smile that he always has before asking you if he could enter.

"Of course you can. We've been doing this for so long now. Come in!" You opened the door ajar, enough for him to get inside your room.

He nodded while blurting a little thank you. He immediately made a bee line towards your bed before plopping himself there, admiring with a small smile when he saw the newly made sheets of your bed. It was your favorite design, of course he knows that, because he bought it for you, despite the fact that you told him he doesn't need to. But for some reasons, the ever so blunt as a brick Shoto Todoroki, flashed you what seems to be puppy dog eyes hitting the very weakness of your heart like a truck trampling your body, and you couldn't do anything but allow him to buy the said sheets for you.

You sighed from the memory.

"So, do you want me to make you tea? I think I have a few more packets left, I could make a quick stop to the kitchen if you like?" You asked as you shuffled through your work table looking for the box of his favorite tea.

"No thank you. I'm already calmed down as long as you're around." You turned around, looking at him with a small smirk and a little blush on your face.

"That was smooth," you muttered under your breathe before you shrugged and laid where the stacks and stacks of pillows were perfectly placed against the wall. Todoroki watched as you got comfy on your place, and as soon as you lifted your arms in a hugging position, he quickly, also clumsily, tucked himself into your arms, placing his head over your chest and laid there comfortably. Like a baby, you even thought.

He felt the rumble of your laughter from your chest, but he didn't cared about that, it was nice hearing you laugh. It was a sweet as a melody, he always thought. He nuzzled on your chest as you started combing your hands on the soft yet damp locks of his maroon and ivory colored hair.

You chuckled again, but did not bothered teasing him, instead, you let out a long awaited sigh that you have been missing ever since this morning.

Suffice to say, you both enjoy Sundays like this, with your boyfriend sleeping on top of you.

Do not repost my story in any other platforms and that includes you reposting it here in tumblr! Reblogs are appreciated! Thank you!

A/N: Just a short drabble about Todoroki is out! I've been feeling stressed out, and having someone such as him laying down my chest? *Chef's kiss* Immaculate. I hope you all enjoy, and sorry for the grammatical errors, English isn't my first language and it isn't my strong suit. See you in my next post y'all!

[1kook]

commercial break ; ONE

a netflix & chill drabble  this follows directly after disney+ and bust !

summary; Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same. warnings; none unless u count yn bullying him as one miscellaneous; yn is regina george thats it word count; 1.3k

notes; u guys may be like “u feed us so well!” wrong i obsessively post bc I'm never satisfied with my work, like in d&b i really disliked the lack of resolution so here i am writing one the day after god bless lmk what u think xxxx

Because Jungkook is Jungkook and cannot go three minutes without profusely professing his feelings to you, the apology gets old real quick.

“I’m sorry, y’know,” he says in the middle of dinner, idly picking at his plate. It’s Chinese tonight, sprawled across the kitchen counter that overlooks your living room. The Bee Movie is playing on TV, a movie you hadn’t seen in years yet still managed to put a smile on your face. But you know what wasn’t putting a smile on your face? Jungkook ruining this movie experience with his fourth apology of the night.

You nod through a mouthful of rice, eyes zeroed in on the screen. “Uh huh,” you hum, foot idly bumping against the leg of your chair every few seconds. “That’s great, honey.”

He sighs. “I’m being serious,” he stresses. “I think, maybe you should like…” a long pause you use to shovel more food into your mouth while the bees on screen go to human court. It was a wild ride. Were they on crack when they pitched this idea? You would have been. “Punch me in the face or something,” he offers after a moment.

You quirk a brow in his direction, finally abandoning the film on screen in favor of turning to face him. “You want me to use you as a punching bag to help you get over your hurt feelings that you developed from being an asshole to me.” Jungkook nods. You shrug. “Okay.”

“Wait, really?” he says, face paling as you roll your shoulder around. “You’re gonna hit me? Like for real?” You raise your brows, as if that’s obviously what you’re going to do.

“Well, you asked for it,” you respond, giving your wrist one final flick before rearing it back. His eyes flutter shut tightly, pouty lips pursed together in a thin line. Your fist comes barreling, ripping through the air in an insane, Fortune 500-like speed, and then—

“No,” Jungkook groans, touching the spot where you lightly flicked his forehead. His bangs saved him from most of the impact, but even without it, it was barely more than a teasing poke of your finger against his skin. “You need to like, beat me up.”

You snort, turning your attention back to the screen. “You know, you’re beginning to sound a lot like me these days, Jungkookie,” you point out, fork scraping across the plate. Jungkook sighs, dropping his head onto the countertop in defeat. “Very childish.”

He lightly bangs his head across the faux marble, a strained whimper filling the air and ruining The Bee Movie. “Which is why you need to hit me or something, I don’t know. Make me pay for how horrible I was to you the other day.”

“I’m not gonna hit you,” you say, “because that would mean the next time you get mad at me, you’d hit me.”

“I would never!” he exclaims, eyes wide and round. Gone was the perfectly put together Jungkook, in was this sloppy mess of emotions. “Besides,” he says softly, cheeks a warm rosy color as he goes back to picking at his food, “you’d never wrong me like I did you.”

You hum, toying with the fork in your mouth. “Really,” you murmur, dropping the fork back on the table. You place your chin in your palm, lazily watching the movie now that you’ve missed a pivotal scene because Jungkook wanted you to beat him up. “I used your toothbrush the other day,” you mention.

Silence.

“You what?” he squawks indignantly. You glance at him from your peripherals. There’s an obvious expression of disgust on his features, eyes flickering from side to side as he digests this information. “Babe—that’s, that’s actually really…” He can’t even finish his sentence, mouth opening and closing as he finally seems to process the fact your mouth germs were on his beloved toothbrush.

“Yup,” you add. “Hope you don’t mind,” you babble on, “well, I mean, you really shouldn’t.” You glance at him, the mean streak in you crooning loudly in your ear the more and more uncomfortable he grows. “Considering you’re always spitting in my mouth.”

As wild as you and Jungkook liked to get in bed, what happened in bed mostly stayed in bed. It sounds gross to say it aloud, but he really has just been casually spitting in your mouth for the past few months. He was a dirty boy, and that fact makes him squirm.

“No, that’s different,” he frowns, obviously distraught by the valid point you bring to the table. “My toothbrush is my toothbrush.”

“I know,” you agree, nudging his foot teasingly. “Should I tell you about all the other mean stuff I do to your things that I never say sorry for?” He turns those frantic eyes on you.

“You’re lying,” he says, though there’s a question embedded within. You tilt your head to the side, as if to say, am I?.

When he doesn’t say anything more, you jump into a full novel recapture of every mean thing you’ve done and why. “And one time I was so pissed off that you finished my strawberry shampoo that I went to your house and drained the water from that stupid cactus’s pot. You know, the one Namjoon gave you?” Jungkook’s mouth opens and closes. “Why do you think it died so fast? I killed it.”

Before he can reprimand you for purposefully orchestrating the murder of his favorite senpai’s potted cactus, you’re intercepting him with yet another tale. “And another time, I was so sick of you polishing your awards all day that I went in and sprinkled a layer of adhesive pixie dust on them from the craft store, and I know it still bothers you to this day.”

“Jeez,” he sighs after a good ten parables. “It sounds like I piss you off a lot more than I think I do.”

You pat his shoulder gently, scraping the remnants of his meal into the trash can. “Yeah, but the difference is,” you say, finding your place beside him again. You don’t climb into your chair, just hover beside him until he’s begrudgingly wrapping his arms around your waist. There’s a cute pout on him, face squished against your boobs. “I routinely let out all my raging hatred against you instead of bottling it up.”

“Yeah,” he agrees sadly. “I guess so.”

Before you can let him off believing this much is fine, you intervene once more. “And also I never purposefully pick out everything you’re insecure about.”

“I didn’t know,” he cries, all traces of that suave gentlemen you love so much gone. But it’s okay, because in his place was this vulnerable puppy looking at you with the eyes of every rescue pop in those dramatic commercials on tv. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same.

“Well, now you do,” you reprimand, giving his nose a playful pinch that almost makes him sneeze. “And I think it’s only fair I get a turn.”

He pushes away from his hiding spot in your boobs with a frown. “So you won’t physically attack me, but you will verbally attack me.”

“Yes,” you respond without missing a beat. “Because you’re easy to bully and it’s probably because of the fact you didn’t have many friends in high school, which essentially made you the class loner, thus an easy target. Explains why Namjoon had to set you up on a date with someone as amazing and outgoing as me, otherwise you would have died forever alone because of your inability to talk to women and the fact you have an awfully picky personality that can be overwhelming at times. So thank me once in a while, yeah?” you smile.

Jungkook blinks. “I think I might cry,” he admits.

You cup his cheeks in your hands, puckering his lips obnoxiously for you to smooch. “Baby, you’re dating a retired Regina George. Y’gotta tighten up a bit,” you tease, relish in the tiny smile he tries to hide after your kisses.

“So is this going to be like a thing now?” he asks as you tug him over to the couch, where The Bee Movie is still playing loud and clear. He plops down and you follow, snuggling into his side. “Because I don’t think I can ever do that again. Hurting your feelings hurts my feelings.”

You snort, taking in his smell and his warmth beside you. Jungkook sinks into the cushions, pulling you close into his chest until the soft beats of his heart echo in your ears. “No— unless you want it to be?”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[luvholicz]

pairing. wayv’s dong sicheng x gn! reader

genre + wc. timestamp, best friends to lovers(ish), fluff, angst at the end + 1.2k

warnings. none, however sicheng is Really whipped its kinda gross blech

notes. reposted from my old blog!! this is one of my fave pieces to date so i hope u enjoy ^.^

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

'i'm beat,' sicheng thinks upon carelessly tossing his dirty old gym bag on the ground. his movements are heavy and sluggish, a fatigued expression present on his handsome features. the contents of his bag spill out, but sicheng can't find it in himself to bend down and fix it.

the poor boy looks less than pitiful in this moment. having forgotten to pack an umbrella this morning, his clothes stick to his body like a second skin. he peels off the damp clothing with a grimace, wincing when the discarded fabric lands on his bedroom floor with a resounding 'plop!'

sicheng is all but ready to settle in bed and get some well-deserved rest, but just as he pulls on his favorite pair of pajamas and tucks himself in, his phone rings.

"hello?" he answers wearily, not even bothering to check who had decided to call him. the only thing on his mind is the sweet temptation that is sleep.

"hi, sicheng!"your chipper voice replies. the boy winces at how enthusiastic and happy you sound, despite it being 7 p.m on a wednesday night. he wonders how you can keep your energy levels so high; he'd have to take a few notes.

"oh, hi (name)," it wasn't unusual for you to call sicheng (he practically expected you to), although it was quite unconventional; you two lived just across the street from each other.

he still didn't quite understand why you insisted on calling him every night just before dinner, but over the years he's learned that it's better to leave some things unquestioned. that, and because he liked it when you took the time out of your day to speak to him.

"how was your day today?" he asks, a hint of interest lacing his usually monotone voice.

"oh! well, today was actually pretty fun! me and donghyuck actually ended up in detention today because..." you begin. sicheng listens as you tell him about the happenings of your day, from the positives to your daily frustrations.

although he wouldn't admit it, he treasures these moments most. the moments where you speak about anything and everything and he just listens, humming or letting out a small "really, they said that?" to show that he was somewhat invested.

there have been times when you'd pout at sicheng and accuse him of never listening to what you say, claiming that you'd often hear him snoring while you ranted. sicheng would just chuckle and shake his head, not denying but not confirming your suspicions either.

in his heart, no matter how many times he may have accidentally fallen asleep to your voice, he knows that he'd never intentionally tune you out. you're too special to him for that.

you were his first long-term friend, hell, why should he put it lightly? you were his first ever friend.

when the other kids refused to play with him, calling him sickly and weak and slow and all the things that damaged his self-confidence, you stuck by his side. you took his hand with the friendliest smile he had ever seen and you made him feel like he belonged. you didn't tip-toe around topics, you didn't hesitate to call people out on their bullshit. you were confident and strong, and sicheng liked that about you.

and while he wouldn't necessarily say he was in love, he felt strongly about you. the way your easy-going smile would morph into a look of defiance and mischief once provoked was enough for his heart to start beating erratically in his chest. how you'd hold his hand absentmindedly when you two would be caught in a crowd, how your eyes shone like the stars when you'd laugh at a stupid joke donghyuck or johnny would make, the furrow of your brows when you were deep in thought, the childish lilt in your voice when you'd tease poor jaehyun on the rare occasion that he was flustered. sicheng felt strongly about it all.

"sicheng? are you still there? you've gone awfully quiet," you trail off from your story about how jeno had gotten one of renjun and donghyuck's arguments on tape.

"what? oh yeah, just thinking about some things," his voice tapers off at the end of his sentence. he can hear a faint hum of concern from your end, as well as the sound of rustling sheets.

"what kind of things?" you ask softly.

sicheng hums, repositioning himself and resting his chin on his arm. "nice things,"

"you're a shit conversationalist, you know that?" an exasperated sigh crackles through the crappy speakers of sicheng's phone.

he chuckles, a pleasant, low sound that comes deep from his chest. "so i've been told," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

for a moment, silence fills the air. the tired boy closes his eyes and listens to the soft hum of your air conditioning.

"your grandma told me about how you forgot your umbrella this morning," sicheng can envision the small pout on your lips, the same one you always wear when you scold him.

"is that so?" he doesn't bother suppressing a smile.

"yeah, she did," you sigh. sicheng hears more rustling, this time accompanied by a soft grunt. "you should stop overworking yourself. i don't know why you feel the need to keep tiring yourself out to the point where you can barely remember to eat breakfast. don't do that to yourself!"

"i know, i'm sorry," he apologizes. he's noticed you have a wonderful knack for encouraging and reassuring people. he loves that about you.

"yeah, you better be..." and once more, it's silent between you two. sicheng doesn't really mind; it's the kind of silence like in those cheesy romance books, the comfortable one where neither of you have to worry about filling the gap. it's nice, he thinks.

just as sicheng begins to nod off to sleep, he hears the muffled call of your name, presumably from your mother.

"oh, i have to go now," sicheng shakes the temptation of sleep away from his mind and feels the familiar dread that always came when you'd tell him you needed to go. "i'll see you tomorrow at school, yeah? and don't forget to eat dinner and shower tonight! your grandma's really worried about you!"

a plethora of reassurances leave sicheng's mouth as you list the things he needs to do. the boy is hardly able to quell the urge to roll his eyes. "i know, i know! don't worry so much about me, i can take care of myself!"

an indignant huff sounds from your end of the line, but softens into a relenting sigh. "i know sicheng, but you can't blame me! you're my best friend, i have a right to worry about you!"

he feels a strange stirring in his heart at your words, but he chooses to ignore it. "i know. i'll try my best to take better care of myself, so don't worry so much about me, okay?"

the line goes silent for a second. "okay,"

"okay," he closes his eyes once more, chewing on the soft flesh of his lower lip. "and (name)?"

"yeah, sicheng?"

sicheng hesitates for a second too long, for as soon as the words "i think i'm in love with you," leave his lips,

the call had already ended.

[forthehpfanboys]

Intact

Pair: George Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Life goes to hell when your mother, who happens to be Bellatrix LeStrange AND a Death Eater, finds out you joined the Order of the Phoenix with your boyfriend. 

Warnings: Swearing, child abuse?, I guess it's more like assault? Dark, probably graphic?? 

Notes: 100/10 on this one. Honestly it was fun to write-

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

You knew the moment you stepped into the house she knew and it wasn’t a good thing. The house was borderline destroyed from the glass shattered on the floor from the ‘family portrait’ on the floor to the burn marks across walls. Your shoes crunched as you walked across the remains of the crystal chandler that's been in the house for generations. You entered the living room and was immediately struck with a spell that had your black slamming into the wall. 

"You rat! You sniveling, useless, pathetic little rodent!” Her hoarse voice revealed how long she’d been screaming. She kicked the coffee table in the center of the room off to the side. “I should've known!" your mother screamed, her wand tightening in her hand. Her arm stayed stretched out, showing her lack of hesitance and empathy toward you. "You were always so ungrateful! So unbelievably selfish!" You held your head in your hands. A headache was throbbing beside your temples- you must've really hit your head on the wall- and her screaming was not helping it out at all. Her yells echoed in the house, almost shaking the shattered windows of the living room.

"What are you going on about?" you asked, finally raising your head to look at her. Her makeup was messy, her hair was an actual rats nest and her eyes were darker than you've ever seen. She looked insane, more so than usual.

"Don't act like you don't know! You betrayed the Dark Lord for that.. That boy!" Bellatrix screeched out, making long steps across the shard covered carpet to corner you. "Honestly! A Weasley, (Y/n)! A blimey, no good for nothing blood traitor! I raised you better than that!"

You stared at her with wide eyes. She knew. Oh, of course she knew who you were sneaking out almost every night to see! She probably found out herself or maybe Draco tattled, that coward. It didn’t matter how she knew, she knew you were with a Weasley, sneaking out almost every night to see him, the other Weasleys and the Order. 

"Raised me? I'm sorry, raised me?!" You genuinely had to laugh at that. "You can not take credit for how I came out! You didn't raise me!  No, no even close! You dropped me off at the Malfoys like a stray dog.” You didn’t even flinch when she jabbed her wand right under your chin, a sneer growing on her features. 

You tried to ignore how much it hurt to be ditched by your own mother, forced to swivel and basically praise the Malfoys for taking in someone like you. You were nothing compared to Draco. Everyone wanted a compliant son like Draco, but no, you had to be different, see your mother for how she really was. You could remember when she showed up one random day after graduating your 4th year, claiming she loved you, missed you, how times got too tough to have a baby boy around the house. The thought now made you sick. She didn’t care about you for fourteen years, but suddenly she does. Since then, life has been hell. Except around George. 

“I should’ve left you on the streets.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she grabbed your shoulder. Her unusually sharp nails seemed to phase right through your shirt. “I should’ve drowned you in a river, I should’ve given you to the Dark Lord himself.” Her nails dug deeper into your skin, puncturing it, leading to small droplets of red to seep into the cotton of your shirt. Your pain must’ve made itself known because she smirked and tossed her head back in loud laughter that made your temples throb again. “I should’ve killed you myself.” She pulled away from you, stepping back a few paces before turning swiftly to face you once again. She did a curtsy, not taking her eyes off you. 

“Clearly, there’s a lot we both should’ve done.” Your voice cracked as you pulled out your own wand from your pocket, holding it tightly. You stepped forward a few spaces and bowed, understanding what she wanted. She wanted you to suffer. She casted a spell before you could even blink, her laugh echoed in the house again.

“Crucio!” 

Your body slammed against the wall a second time, except this time, it felt like your heart was actually going to stop. It felt like every nerve was being ripped in half one by one, like you were being burned alive but drowning in an icy river at the same time. You physically couldn’t stop the scream of pure agony that ripped from your throat. 

You crashed to the floor as your muscles tensed up. The spell lifted before another scream could fly from your lips, giving your now aching muscles a break. You curled into a tight  ball, your knees to your chest, as your.. ‘Mother’ let out yet another cackling laugh. Honestly, you weren’t sure she ever stopped.

“What’s wrong, (Y/n)? Too much for you? Maybe I should just call you Weasley. You’re just as pathetic and dimwitted as they are.” She giggled, bouncing on her feet, before doing a spin. “Oh, I do love your scream though.” 

You were trying to blink through the tears and ignore the way your gut was twisting itself up. You officially envied anyone who said crap about Longbottom's parents- they didn’t deserve this. Through the tears, your eyes landed on your wand, just in arms reach. With a shaky, weak hand, you reached for it, an equally shaky breath leaving your lips when your fingertips grazed across the wood. It was so close. that was, until a heal came to rest into the back of your hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my insane rambling is too boring for you, is it?” Bellatrix spat out. She lowered herself onto one knee, putting testing her weight against the bones in your skin. You sucked in a breath, your eyes squinting shut. While she was down there, she decided to go on a tangent on how her life was so difficult, how she couldn’t have her love with her, whoever the fuck that was, and how she was a good mother. 

“You’re such a bitch.” You whispered out. While the witch was so worried about your hand and spitting all over your face with her sob story, you’d managed to grab your wand. You threw a punch, right to her crooked grin. The punch wasn’t your strongest, but it gave you enough leeway to wiggle your hand free and aim your wand at her, casting stupefy to throw her back. Before she could do anything else, you booked it out the door, running as fast as you could. You didn’t look behind you when she started screaming again.

“Ingrate! Go run off to those pathetic blood-traitors! You deserve to be with your own kind! A bunch of filthy low-lives!” 

You rounded the corner and apparated to where you knew they would be, where you’d be safe. With a crisp pop, you were in front of the door of none other than Sirius’ Black’s home. You didn’t bother knocking, you didn’t need too. You stumbled into the house, effectively cutting off everyone’s casual conversation in the living room. You ignored Molly’s gentle calls and Remus trying to see if you were ok. You just sprinted up the stairs, calling for your boyfriend. 

You didn’t even realize you were crying until your body collided with George’s, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist while the other went straight to your hair. He rocked your back and forth, his voice whispering everything was going to be ok in your ear. You didn’t even notice the crowd forming behind you.

“Cupcake, I’m going to need you to tell me what happened, ok?” He gently pulled you from his chest, his hands cupping your wet cheeks to wipe away your tears.

“She knows. Someone told her- or- or she followed us but she knows and-” You took in a shaky breath, being gently dragged back into a hug by the ginger. You couldn’t see it, but George, while never usually one to jump to violence, was close to throwing hands.

“LeStrange?” He asked, wanting clarification over who the ‘she’ actually was. When you nodded into his chest, his arms tightened around you. “Ok,’ he whispered, “ok, how about we go assess the damage, hmm?” He guided you down the hall, ignoring the questions about what happened, and taking you straight to the clean bathroom. 

George shut the door once you were sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He wasn’t quite sure if he was more heartbroken over the fact that you were shaking, struggling to breath and bouncing your leg rapidly or pissed that she dared to lay a hand on you. He knelt in front of you, a sad smile across his lips as he rubbed your knees. “What did she do, love?” 

You told him about the wrecked house, the yelling, the headache, the tiny scabs on your shoulder and how she fucking stood on your hand. You left out the curse, worried he’d actually go over there himself and hex the daylights out of her. No one would admit it but any Weasley could easily go from lovable dorks to murderous slayers in 3.4 seconds if provoked correctly. 

“Can I see your shoulder? I want to make sure it won’t get infected with whatever she carries.” His fingers gently pulled at the hem of your shirt, his eyes staring into yours as he waited for your approval. You suddenly found it hard to speak. He wasn’t gentle all the time, but when he was, it always stole your breath. 

When you finally nodded and raised your arms, he slipped your shirt over your head. The fabric slipped from his grasp as he stared at your bare chest, shoulders and arms. You could see every emotion flickering past his irises- worry, sadness, anger. 

“What?” You followed his gaze. Along your chest, stomach and shoulders, a bright red pattern of welts had formed. How you didn’t notice, you weren’t sure, but now that you were looking at them, they started throbbing. The marks seemed to mimic lightning bolts, but rounder, breaking apart and covering your body, but they all started at one spot. An angry lopsided organic shape stood out below your right peck, just on your rib cage- that was where the spell hit. The marks didn’t stop at your shoulders, or your neck. They traveled down to your very fingertips and a few made themselves known just along your jaw and across your cheek.

“(Y/n),” His use of your first name unnerved you, “what aren’t you telling me?” George’s hand reached out to gently touch where the bitch’s spell hit you while his eyes flicked up to yours. You stayed quiet, your chest shaking as you took in another nervous breath. You licked your lips, thinking over your next words carefully.

“She may have used the Cruciatus Curse on me.” You looked down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers. You heard him take a sharp breath. He whispered a quick ‘can you give me a moment?’ before walking out of the bathroom. You heard his heavy footsteps travel down the hall before a door slammed open, rattling the mirror hanging on the bathroom wall. 

“Freddie, I’m going to fucking lose it!” George’s voice carried easily through the hallway, causing you to jump. “No, I will not calm down! Shut up and listen!” The younger twin never spoke to his brother like that. “The crucio curse, Fred! The fucking, the, you know! For- I swear-” The door to the shared room slammed shut, the rattling mirror doing it’s thing again as you sat awkwardly in the bathroom alone. George kept going on and on about stuff you could no longer make out, but you could assume they were death threats sworn to come true.

After about 2 minutes, George came back, Fred trailing right behind him, a baggy Irish themed quidditch shirt and a pair of red sweatpants in his arms. George set the clothes down while Fred looked at the marks. 

“Bloody hell.” Fred sat down next to you. “Do they still hurt?” He let out a sigh of relief when you shook your head no. “Thank Merlin for that.” 

While Fred was chatting away, George had knelt in front of you again, his hand on the ball joint of your shoulder, his wand in his other hand. He whispered a quick healing curse on the five scabs before handing you the Irish t-shirt. 

“You ok?” George asked once the shirt was on. His hands had come back to your knees at some point and you weren’t quite sure when, but you appreciated the familiar warmth. 

“I don’t know. “ Your eyes were cast downward at the marks across your forearms and wrist, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I… Don’t you think they’re.. Meeeh?” You raised your arms a little, referring to the scars. 

“Really?” The red-head trouble makers asked in unison, causing you to turn between them a few times. 

“What?” 

“Sunshine.” George spoke up from the floor, his hands twiddling together as he got your attention. He smiled a little when your eyes looked down into his. “Remember Umbridge?”

“Of course I do. I was there- I left with you guys-”

“Hush, I’m trying to be inspirational.” His words cause you to grin and snort. “Well, then you must remember the quill.” He brought his hand into your view, showing what he thought was oh so important he told you to hush. The scars from the quill were still there, only faded, but still extra pale against his normal tone. “You could hardly see ours anymore, love.”

You reached out for his hand hesitating, but in the end, you were running your fingers across the skin, noting the change in textures. You turned to Fred, who flashed you the same grin and held his hand up, revealing the same scars. 

“Right..” You smiled, turning back to the twin you called yours. “They fade but-”

“-let you tell stories that strengthen you.” The twins finished, a wider smile on both of their faces. Fred stood up, ruffling your hair before heading out of the bathroom. George stood up after handing you the sweats. 

“I’ll let you get dressed here, cupcake. Come on back to the room whenever you're ready.” George planted a kiss to your cheek before planting one swift one to your lips and heading out of the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him.

“What would Molly say?” You asked, changing your pants and confirming the scars did run down to your ankles.

“After what you went through? She wouldn’t have the heart to make you stay anywhere else.” George called through the door before walking down the hallway to his room. You splashed some cold water on your face, hoping to wash away some of the trauma today would leave behind. 

Once your face was dry, you walked from the bathroom, to the shared room with the twins. You didn’t bother knocking once again, knowing you were more welcomed here than anywhere else. You plopped yourself on the bed, besides your boyfriend and snuggled into his side. Sure today would leave scars, mental and physical, but as George’s arms wrapped around you, you realized he was all you would need to stay intact in the end. 

And yeah, George did keep his promise for revenge in the end.

[outerbankswriting]

Could it be? Chapter 11 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2 - CH.3 - CH.4 - CH.5 - CH.6 - CH.7 - CH.8 - CH.9 - CH.10

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or  at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

A/N: THIS CHAPTER GOT DELETED BC TUMBLR WANTED TO MAKE ME CRY FOR A BIT SO I HAD TO REPOST..

Warnings: mentions of sexual trauma

CHAPTER 11

You shot a glance at Sarah once she finished spilling all your business. You watched as she gave you an innocent smile after realising you didn’t want everyone to know about Rafe yet.

“Look, I can explain alright?” You sighed as you reached for a beer. It was going to be a long day.

“Please do.” Kie muttered, raising her eyebrow at you.

You looked at JJ who was staring straight into your eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was hurt or angry but either of those options made your stomach twist.

“He promised that if I faked it for a night, he would leave all of us alone which means th-”

“And you believed him?” Pope was quick to cut you off.

“Why would you even trust Rafe Cameron in the first place?” John B added.

“If you would all stop interrupting me, then maybe I would be able to clear your doubts.” You spat coldly at your friends.

“Go on then.” Kie nodded.

“It’s just for the night, so he can be on the clear with his father and have no problems whatsoever,” you bit your lip, “after that I’m completely done with him.”

The silence was broken by JJ’s sarcastic laugh, making you immediately stare at his movements.

“Well I think it’s bullshit,” he gulped down his beer before standing up, “and if you’re trusting Rafe Cameron, then you can’t be trusted either.”

His words hit you like a thousand knives on the chest.

He definitely felt betrayed by you but his anger was stronger than the pain he was feeling. He tossed the empty beer on the sand, ignoring Kie’s complaining and gave you a final glare before walking away from the group.

“JJ,” you sighed and rushed to walk towards him, ignoring whatever your friends were complaining about as well, “JJ wait!”

You tried to walk faster towards him but the sand wasn’t letting you catch up to his pace.

“JJ stop!” You yelled a little louder but he kept walking.

You decided to run towards him, ignoring how ridiculous you looked trying to run in the sand for trying to chase a guy.

“JJ let me talk to you.” You grabbed his arm making him turn to face you.

His eyes drifted to the sea, not bothering to look at yours.

He was stubborn and you knew him too well to know how whenever he gets angry, his mind becomes clouded with his own thoughts, not bothering to listen or try to understand anything.

“Do you honestly think I want to talk to you right now?” He spat out.

But he was not the only stubborn one here, you were not going to let him leave without first making him listen to you.

“I want you to listen.”

“I don’t want to listen.” His jaw clenched and he pulled his arm away from you.

You were starting to get annoyed but you couldn’t blame him for feeling this way.

“JJ stop walking away from me!”

“You listen to me!” He raised his voice at you as he walked closer to you, your eyes starting to water at his actions, “I cannot trust you if you keep lying to my face!”

“I never lied to you JJ!”

“You said you were not going back to him!”

“I’m not!”

“Then why the fuck are you going as his girlfriend to the stupid party?!”

His eyes were filled with anger and your face probably looked like the one of a scared puppy since JJ’s features softened at the realisation of how loud he was raising his voice at you and how he was projecting his anger.

“I just can’t believe how you can still trust him after everything he’s done.” He lowered his voice but the anger still hadn’t left him.

“Nothing’s going to happen between us JJ,” you slowly walked closer to him, afraid he was going to walk away at any second, “I’m not going to let it happen.”

JJ licked his lips while shaking his head in frustration, he tried to avoid eye contact with you but failed once you softly caressed his cheek, making him calm down a bit.

“If that asshole lays a finger on you, I promise I’m going to kill him.” He muttered as his breathing got slower.

“Sarah is going to be there,” you said and grabbed his hand, “and so will my parents JJ. It’s just one night and then Rafe will be out of our lives.”

His eyes softened as you kept caressing his cheek and holding his hand. You watched as he slightly nodded, knowing he was still not trusting Rafe.

“Let’s go home okay?” You whispered before giving him a light kiss.

The two of you went to your house, not really bothering on letting your friends know you weren’t going back to the beach. You were probably going to send a text later to Kie explaining her everything. Right now all you cared about was calming JJ down and letting him know things were going to be alright.

Once you were in the comfort of your bedroom you decided to grab some beers from the fridge to loosen up a bit and forget the tension that had built a few minutes ago.

You knew JJ was still upset and angry since he wasn’t really talking.

“Last to finish their beer has to cook dinner.” You playfully winked at him before taking a big gulp of your beer.

You noticed JJ take a sip of his beer, not really following your little game to cheer things up.

“JJ come on,” you sat down on the bed next to him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night.”

“It’s not only that Y/N,” he said softly this time, “it’s the fact you always tell me your relationship with him was bad and I know there’s something about him you’ve been hiding from me.”

You didn’t know what to say so you just stared at your bed covers.

“Do you see?” JJ went on, “How can I trust you completely if you can’t even trust me?”

“I do trust you JJ,” you sighed, “I just,”

You took a deep breath, thinking about the right way to tell him.

“I have never talked about this to anyone because it scares me.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he moved closer to you.

“What do you mean Y/N?” He softly grabbed your hand.

“I just don’t know how to say it.” Your voice trembled and you felt your eyes start to tear up, JJ immediately cupping your face.

“Hey Y/N,” he whispered, “you can trust me, I’ll take care of you.”

You stared at his eyes while letting a few tears fall down your face. The two of you had already seen each other at your most vulnerable times and that’s what had made you feel so close to him.

You knew you had to tell JJ, you knew it was time to let it out, even if it scared you and even if you knew JJ would probably lose his shit.

You took a deep breath.

“I didn’t really want to do it with him,” your voice was low and soft and you noticed JJ’s jaw clench as he realised what you were talking about, “but I didn’t know how to tell him.”

You fought back the tears as you remembered the first time you had sex with Rafe and how you knew you weren’t ready but he somehow convinced you.

“It’s not like I told him I didn’t want to,” your voice trembled again, “I just let him do it because he was my boyfriend at the time even though I didn’t want to, and after the first time I didn’t want to do it again, but when I told him he got mad at me and he started hanging out with other girls so I just,”

You paused to stare at JJ, his eyes were once again filled with anger but there were also tears in them. His hand was still holding yours tightly, giving you the trust and confidence to keep going.

“I just did it again with him until I learnt to kind of enjoy it I guess? But there were more times I didn’t want to do it than times I did want to, and it just haunts me.”

You let the tears fall down as you felt a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

“JJ?” You asked once you noticed he remained silent, his eyes filled with tears and not leaving yours.

“That piece of shit.” He muttered as he trembled with rage.

“JJ,”

“I’m going to kill him.” He spat out coldly.

“JJ I told you this because I trust you, please,” you cupped his face, “stay out of this.”

“Are you kidding me Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows at you, “My fist on his face is the least I could to him to make him pay for what he did.”

“He never forced me to do it.”

“But he manipulated you Y/N.”

“I know that now,” you sighed, “but I didn’t know that back then.”

He nodded and bit his lip but you grabbed his face and made him stare straight into your eyes.

“I’m a different person now JJ, I’ve learnt from it.”

Just when his tears were about to fall down his face, he wrapped his arms around you, making you let out all the tears you were fighting back and feeling safe in his embrace.

“I will never hurt you Y/N,” he sobbed against your neck, “I’ll always take care of you.”

You weren’t even able to let out the words you wanted to tell him, you wanted to tell him how much you loved him but the words just wouldn’t come out because of your loud sobbing.

“I’ll be there.” He whispered once he let go of the embrace and cupped your face.

“What are you talking about?” You asked while wiping away the last tears falling from his eyes.

“I’m going to the party and I’ll be watching over you and I don’t care if your parents hate me for that.”

You smiled with tears in your eyes before nodding and softly placing your lips against his.

———————-

CH.12

A/N: I touched a pretty sensitive topic this chapter and I really want to talk about this. unwanted consensual sex (also known as gray zone sex) is a thing that happens to so many people and it’s not talked about enough. one of my closest friends experienced this and it has affected her sexual relationships deeply. if you’ve ever been through something like this please know that you’re not alone and you can always talk to me. you should never feel pressured to do sexual intercourse or any other sexual activities by anyone, not even your partner.

sorry for all the mess that’s been going on with my tumblr, I honestly don’t know what happened but tumblr support apparently already fixed it...

thank u so much if you’re still reading this story, means a lot!

——————–

[generalfoolish]

Oscar Isaac Week, Day 1: Favorite Character

Title: I’ll Always Wait For You

Fandom: Triple Frontier (2019)

Pairing: Santiago “Pope” Garcia

Rating: General

Word Count: 1450

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend just showed up out of the blue with a bombshell. You’ve loved him, and waited for him to come home to you, but now you’re not sure how to be there for him.

A/N: ***Repost because my first attempt at formatting was nonexistent. Anyway: my addition to Oscar Isaac Week, Day One. I think Santi is one of my favorites because I need him to be okay. I can easily see him sinking into a depressive episode because of what happened, and while I really hope he went to see his lady in the islands, here is a little Drabble of him coming back to a past love. We love a trope here! 

The first knock wakes you. It’s heavy, just short of pounding. In your dream, the knocks rattled your teeth. You woke just before the rattles knocked the teeth out, you’re worst recurring dream. The second knock jolts you to your senses. You were groggy, still mostly asleep, waiting for your eyes to adjust, and the second knock pumps you with purpose. Adrenaline, actually, but it got your feet moving anyway. Without thinking, without wondering why a burglar would knock, without stopping, you grab the old pistol from your bedside table.

An old gift, something you didn’t want to keep, but didn’t have the heart to throw out. You shook your head; it wasn’t even loaded. In any case, you keep moving. Some resilient and urgent move in your head, screaming at you to move your ass faster. Get down the stairs, it demands. Your eyes are barely adjusted to the dark, but you know your house pretty well. You take the stairs faster than you should, but your feet hit plush carpet each step. You look across your open floor plan, the blinds leaking little light in from the street, just enough to see that nothing is amiss. You sigh, droop your arms a little. Your adrenaline is ebbing, and you’re getting a headache. You almost laugh at your ridiculous response, when the third knock comes. It sounds like a heaving slap against the door panel, and you almost drop your gun in shock.

Scrambling, you cross the space between the stair landing and the door. On tiptoe, you peer through the peephole, not sure what to expect. Never did you expect him. Santiago Garcia. It was dark in your doorway, and it had been years. But you were sure. As sure of anything.

You threw the door open, and then your energy fizzled. You couldn’t form any words, especially not the right ones. Not the ones that had died on your lips the last time he had left. Not the ones he should have known. Not the right ones that could have kept him from going. Instead, you search him. His face, his frame, his features, and you drink it all in. He looks tired. Not just tired from a flight, or because of the late hour, but bone tired. Everything you want to say to him, scream at him, stays in your chest. All you can do is let him in.

“Sorry for the time, I—uuh—just landed.” He tells you, stepping inside. He only has a duffel bag, and you wonder why he’s bothered coming to see you at all. You snag your lip harshly between your teeth to keep the biting words at bay. You wince when the familiar metallic taste floods your mouth and loosen your hold. A self-inflicted split lip is worse than him leaving, again, you tell yourself. Instead, you decide to ask a reasonable question.

“Santiago, what are you doing here?” You ask, shutting the front door, and facing him.

“Well, I just landed. I’m just back from South America.” He reasons, a hand resting on the back of his neck, a small smile playing on his lips. You stare him down, urging him on. He doesn’t continue.

“Santi, 2 in the morning isn’t a great time to play games. I meant here, literally here. My house.” He exhales deeply, and a nervous grin spreads on his face.

“You said the door was always open, and you, uhm, kept that old service pistol I gave you.” He motioned to the gun hanging loosely in your hand, and you closed your eyes.

“I haven’t seen you in years.” You remind him, and you realize you still can hardly make him out. Neither of you had flipped a switch. You put the gun down on the entryway table and grabbed his upper arm. “But, if you’re here, you may as well be comfortable. Shoes off in here, who knows what you’re tracking in those old boots. Give me the bag and meet me down the hall in the kitchen. I’ll get you some tea, and if you’re hungry I have some leftovers from dinner.” You ticked off and grabbed his bag. You climbed back up the stairs and headed to the guest room. You paused as you set the bag down. You didn’t know why he was here, but you were already hoping he’d stay for a little while. Maybe long enough to move to your bed, you thought, feeling the blush creep up your neck. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t done with him before, but him coming in at such a late hour felt too intimate, too personal, after so long.

You shook your head to clear your worsening thoughts. You padded back down the steps, following your own familiar path to the kitchen, where he was already sitting at one of the counter stools. In the harsh lighting of the kitchen, you could see his graying hair and his shoulder’s slumped inwardly.

“Chamomile?” You ask, walking past him, and perking him up. He was still sporting a nervous smile, one that didn’t quite meet his weary eyes. He shook his head.

“I can’t believe you still drink that stuff.” He said, laughing gently. The sound filled the space, and you grinned back.

“Right! I forgot how much you hated it. Uhm, hang on. Let me think…I have a beer? Whiskey? Water?” You ticked off, trying not to think too hard about what he liked.

“Water is perfect, pollito.” You grab a cup from the shelf, and angle it under the water dispenser.

“Don’t call me that.” You warn as you sit the cup in front of him. He grins slyly, and drinks deeply. When you were dating, he had no limit of annoying pet names for you, and pollito had been his favorite.

“Okay, I’ve been hospitable enough, Santi. You have to explain. Give me something.”

“Well, I’m done.” You quirked an eyebrow but didn’t speak. He had been done with the Army, and then joined spec ops. He had been done with that, and then left for South America. You had been done with that particular game for too long to fall for it again. Santiago was a lot of things, and restless was one. Done, for him, simply meant moving to the next job. So, you waited, as you had for all those long years before, you waited for him to explain.

“The last job was bad.” You were going to say something snarky, something about how they were all bad, but then you saw his face drain of color. You saw his waterline start to flood, and you reached across the counter and took his hands. You offered him a small smile, but he was lost in his thoughts, too far to reach. You rubbed circles on his hands as you waited for him. You might kick yourself later, but you knew in your heart that you had always been waiting for him.

“It was Tom, he couldn’t…he wouldn’t let it go. He…he’s dead, now. And it’s my fault, mi vida. If I had just left it alone. I couldn’t let it go.” You felt him tense under your hands, and you swallowed a soft gasp. Tom had been one of Santiago’s closest friends. Their team was more like a family to them, and to lose one must have shattered them all. Your mind flickered to the other boys, and you hoped they were well. You had lost them when you had lost Santi. Another regret for the lost love.

“Shhh, Santi, it wasn’t your fault. Tom agreed to the job, whatever it was, sometimes these things don’t go to plan. He knew the risks.” You stopped short of outright blaming Tom, you didn’t really know the story, but your hackles rose to protect Santi from his own thoughts. He would spiral if he held onto his self-blame. He turned his dark eyes on you, and you withstood the storm forming in them. You weren’t sure who he was anymore. You wanted him to be the same, your Santi. He had been peppering pet names in, and you hadn’t missed the subtle glances. But, this man before you, he had seen and been through hell, you were sure of it. You just didn’t know how much of him made it out.

“You don’t hate me?” His usually commanding voice came out in a harsh whisper, one filled with so much yearning that it almost made you gasp again.

“Of course not, Santiago. I could never hate you.” He smiled and curled his hand up into yours. Whatever happened next, at least you had each other.