#than keep losing or hurting girls while debating what to change it to

[yarnings]

Just got the reveal from Girl Guides on the new branch name: Embers (I like that way more than the other shortlisted option.)

It’s a good name.

[mageofseven]

Repressed Love: A DiaLuci Love Story

Chapter 23

Tag list: @astroseuss @zarakem @brielle043 @missloserqueen

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Both of Luce's children were surprised the next to see Lord Diavolo so...different.

Audriana handled it the best; her papa told her he 'just wanted to try a new look' and asked his daughter if he looked pretty

And of course, the sweet girl said yes! She didn't understand why her papa looked different, but he was smiling and said he liked his new look so everything must be okay!

Satan...oh boy.

The blonde couldn't even look the prince in the eyes anymore and would rush out of any conversation Dia would try to start with him.

Diavolo worried about this. Did he somehow make his relationship with his almost-stepson deteriorate quicker? What did he do wrong? Since changing his form, the prince became a lot more sensitive and fretted more openly about the blonde.

Lucifer assured him that wasn't the case, but honestly...he wasn't quite sure what was going on in the young man's head.

The pride demon debated on whether it would be wise to ask about it though.

Satan's...condition was fragile. Yes, being around Lucifer certainly helped, but upsetting him too much has shown to still push him into those blurry episodes, for lack of a better term

And so, the two continued their day as usual. When Audriana took her nap, the father-son duo headed to the library vault as usual to search through the books and documents.

While Lucifer searched for answers to his son's condition, Satan read whatever he pleased, as per usual

But the blonde didn't seem much like himself today; he seemed to stare into space more than he read anything in particular.

Eventually, the father sighed and returned the document he was skimming through back in its rightful place before sitting by his son on the usual bench.

"Satan..."

In truth, the pride demon didn't know what to say, but was giving his son a chance to speak, if he was willing.

The blonde didn't say a word, just continued to stare down at the ancient mosaic tile at their feet.

Luce gave his son a light shake to his shoulder, causing the other man to jolt from his thoughts.

"Satan, what is with you today?" The father asked, eyebrows raised.

The blonde pursed his lips.

"He...he changed..." The younger demon said softly. "He was supposed to make you change but...he changed his form so you didn't have to."

"Diavolo never wanted me to change my form." He told his son. "In fact...he begged me not to sacrifice myself for all of this. He wanted to be the one to do so in order to protect me."

Satan closed his eyes, looking pained.

"He needs to be bad; he needs to be a selfish man I can hate."

"And why in the realms does he need to be as such?"

The blonde opened his eyes and looked to his father.

"Because it's so much easier to hate him that way." He told him. "And...what if me hating him...what if that is the last thread that's keeping me alive?"

Luce stared at his son, unable to speak at first.

With hate comes anger and anger...it was the glue that kept him together. If he loses this hatred and, by extension, the last bit of anger in him... they'll be nothing left to keep his son's soul together.

Could his son's hatred of his fiancé...be the only thing keeping the younger man alive?

On one hand, he wanted both Satan and Diavolo to get along so neither had to hurt over this anymore

But on the other...maybe he's right; maybe helping him through his confusion and pain on this topic will just kill him.

To let his son suffer or to let his son die...was that really the only option the dad had?

"-cifer. Dad?"

The pride demon zoned back in after hearing his son's voice, his green orbs staring up at him in concern.

"I...I should get back to searching." The father went to rise from his seat, but his son grabbed his arm.

"Could you listen to this first?" The blonde asked, lifting up the small scroll in his hand.

The older man stayed seated and waited as his son scanned the paper for the line he needed.

~

Children of sorrow, children of pain

Absorb trauma to make the parent sane.

Full of love, full hate

Personified of the disgraced.

Become unraveled, become undone

For soon you will have won

The peace you so deserve

By ending the cycle of the cursed.

Lose the pain, find the grace

Or lose yourself in the maze.

Abyssal greetings call your soul

If you cannot pay life's toll.

~

"Doesn't it sound like me?" The son asked after reading it aloud. "It seems as if it's describing my...condition in a way."

"Let me see that."

Satan handed over the scroll to his father.

The first thing the pride demon noticed was just how burnt the scroll was; so many other paragraphs burnt and smudged with ash, no longer legible.

All books and documents in this library have an anti-degradation charm on them, preventing damage caused by age or outside sources

Meaning this scroll was burnt before the Royal Family got their hands on it

Yet they still deemed the remaining paragraphs important for preservation.

Why? What was so important about this poem?

Speaking of which...

"Satan..." Lucifer said carefully. "This is Ancient Celestial. When did you find time to learn the language?"

Ancient Celestial was the angelic language from the early Era of Seclusion. Lucifer knew it well because all angels were taught it as children; it was basically the equivalent of how many students in the human world who went to Catholic school had to learn Latin.

Silence.

Lucifer turned to meet his son's gaze, whose expression shown confusion and hints of concern.

"Satan?"

"...I didn't." His son answered. "It just looks like normal Devilish script to me."

This was...very concerning, to say the least.

Not only was the only document they found mentioning his son's condition burnt, but his son was reading in dead language he had no knowledge of.

Just what the devil is going on here?

[coldgoldlazarus]

One thing I think it's interesting that the writing in Arcane grapples with, to no immediately obvious conclusion, (that has led to at least one dubious take I've seen that it has "incoherent politics") is the tension between violence and stagnation.

---

Because on one hand, Arcane shows violence as a force of change, but almost always for the worse. Vander's uprising ends in countless undercity deaths at the hands of the Enforcers, and the orphaning of our girls. The fight with Deckard's crew ends in Milo blaming Powder for losing the loot and either starting or worsening her sense of ostracization.

The fight in episode 3 might have resulted in Vander's rescue if not for Powder's bomb, but honestly? I don't know how far they would have gotten with Shimmer-juiced Deckard still after them, and for all Vi's prowess he completely mopped the floor with her and Vander both, until Vander became the bigger monster. Even in the best case scenario, I don't know that the outcome would have been much different.

Episode 4's Firelight attack ends in most of them dead and Ekko fleeing, and a traumatic episode for Jinx. Episode 5 has the first round against Sevika, which ends with Vi stabbed through the gut literally and emotionally. Episode 6, they manage to escape Silco by dropping a sign on him but not much more than that, and the following battle against the Firelights ends with Vi kidnapped again and Jinx falling deeper into paranoia. Ekko's stand against Jinx in 7 does let Cait and Vi escape, but without the reason they were trying to get back to Piltover in the first place, and both combatants wind up badly wounded and further traumatized, in particular necessitating medical attention for Jinx that results in her infusion with Shimmer.

Another debatable case is Episode 8, which does finally convince Jayce that war isn't the answer and to push to grant Zaun their independence, but it still takes the death of a child worker and the forcible suppression of countless others to even open his eyes in the first place. Plus, I have seen some argue that he swung too far in the opposite direction instead, giving up on the Undercity and being willing to hand it over to Silco despite also seeing the conditions at the refinery he was running, rather than trying to find a more constructive and reconciliatory solution. (I'm not entirely sure I agree with this take, but I still felt it relevant to bring up.)

Hell, my friend has argued that the second fight between Vi and Sevika is the one exception to this rule, but honestly, even if we leave out Jinx's kidnapping her immediately afterwards, the fight on its own was ultimately pointless and unproductive, a waste of energy that had no real impact on the bigger picture by this point while losing Vi one of her gauntlets and leaving her too exhausted to fight back against her third abduction. And of course, the standoff between Cait and Jinx ends in Silco's death, which despite everything else he's done, still just hurts Jinx and leaves her alone once again.

---

On the other side of the equation, there is stagnation. With the undercity, first there was Vander. He did his best to keep things stable and steady, but that also meant that the undercity was trapped in place, under the heel of the Enforcers and under the oppression of Piltover. I love the man, I understand why did what he did, but Silco and Sevika weren't wrong when they criticized him.

But of course, under Silco, things got worse instead of better. He had all his long-term plans and whatnot, but in the meantime Shimmer became like a drug, giving people momentary pleasure or escape but ultimately leaving them even more destitute and their health and bodies in jeopardy to boot, as we saw with all the people in the abyss. In the short term everything became worse, and we'll never even know if his longer-term goals would have led anywhere, since he won't live to enact them and he only even got a shot at declaring independence ahead of his plans because of Jayce's offer.

On the other side of things, there's Heimerdinger and the council. Obviously, Heimerdinger's later opposition to Viktor's Hexcore research wasn't entirely unfounded; though we have yet to see the full consequences of that, knowing that Viktor must eventually become the Machine Herald we see in the game at least gives some idea of what's coming. That being said, while the show has yet to truly delve into the source and implications of the hex-crystals, I think it's safe to say that Heimerdinger's initial complete dismissal of the research was premature, and his later insistence on holding back too much was in direct opposition to Viktor's ideal of helping people who needed it right now. Again, there could and would have been consequences to just handing out hexgems like candy, given everything else already set in motion by that point, but it also denied all of the possible good they could have done.

And then there is the rest of the council; where Heimerdinger is small-c conservative and mostly oblivious to the struggles of the Undercity until his walkabout in Act 3, the rest are Conservative, corrupt, and uncaring about their constituents.

Mel's arguably the best of a bad bunch, but even then, as her mother points out she's still fairly complicit in the state of the undercity. Plus, it's made very clear that the line between her genuine good intentions and feelings for Jayce, and her Noxian upbringing to destabilize and control, is incredibly blurry and there is probably more overlap than she'd like to admit. I love her, but she's like a Game Of Thrones character who wandered into the wrong universe, and that ultimately negatively impacts the direction she leads Jayce and his hextech dream as she pushes him into politics.

And on that note, even as Heimerdinger obstructs the spread of hextech for good purposes out of at least some valid fear of the consequences, the rest of the council clearly pervert it into further fueling their own wealth and greed first and foremost. Once again uncaring at best, actively opposed at worst, to letting it be used or halted in any way that would benefit the lower classes and/or hurt their own bottom line, because either outcome would threaten their feeling of power. Unlike Vander maintaining stability despite the class divide because of the fear of what could go wrong otherwise, they maintain stability for the class divide.

---

So in the end, what is the solution? Violence brings change, but that change either makes things worse or just doesn't matter, with few meaningful benefits in the long run. On the other hand, stability brings stagnation, that either maintains a bad situation or lets it grow even worse over time.

There's a hint of Arcane's theorized answer in Episode 7, with the Firelights' hideout, and Cait's line "this city needs healing", but for better or worse that's all we get for now, with the exploration of how to enact such a thing on a larger scale being too big to get into right now, while Arcane is still in the middle of looking at how everything breaks first. (I feel/hope that is something that will be shifted toward in future seasons, though.)

Because in the end, the question of which is better, between violence or stagnation, is the wrong one to ask. Both have led to the situation being what it is now, both have played their part in shaping these characters into who they are. Both the systemic and personal instances of both have led to Jinx being failed again and again and again despite all the love held for her.

And with her rocket sailing across the city, right into the council's windows, the choice has been made for everyone. Stagnation has gone on too long, made the differences irreconcilable, and cannot last any longer. Violence isn't the answer either, it won't make things better... But it's here now anyway, and all that can be done now is see what happens and face the consequences.

[returntosaturn271995]

Wednesday, September 27th, 2023: Long Roads

"So that’s how you grow mental toughness. One task at time, believing that you can change and evolve, taking failures and notes to growth and not to heart. 

The person I’m most proud of as I lay here in bed, not bullying myself, but helping myself inch forward: is who I was as my lowest. Debating suicide, hiding under much rougher covers. That girl, so sensitive and hurt, knew enough to get help and keep trying with a map she hadn’t created yet and with no light to walk towards. She pulled herself up with no promises that things would get easier. 

That takes fucking grit. And I can practice on it more. I can get better at it. I put my hand on my heart and feel it beating: it’s never stopped since day one. Neither have I. I have gotten myself here."

One year ago today, my life was going to get a little worse and then much better. This was my first floor. I like to think I'm on the third floor right now. New job, higher salary, new housemate, new friends, new running habit, new yoga habit, new home decor and deep cleaning, new medicine, and new wardrobe. I had just started meditating and literally never cooked.

These are all huge upgrades that happened the way everything does: slowly and then all at once. I had to lose things to replace them with better things. They were lessons I was lucky to learn and a sign that sometimes the universe really is working in your favor even on your shittiest days. You just have to be friends with yourself first.

I thought of a year ago as a low, but even then I was striving and starting to improve: after all, I had been lower. I can't remember the last time I had suicidal thoughts and they used to play in my mind like a soundtrack at a party I was desperate to leave.

Now I have a map to reference and light to see. Things did get easier and then easier still.

In comparison to before, today was downright cheerful. Makenna and I went shopping for a card and bag at Pangea Outpost for Hannah's birthday present. We (well, I), picked a David from Schitt's Creek-themed card where he talks about crying a little and popping a pill. The bag is an obnoxious bright pink and covered in stars. I also got an orchid and sea salt candle for myself because we all deserve a little treat. My room has been smelling amazing because I switched out the Pura pods to Capri by Volcano and some mango-esque scent.

It's the little things. Like dusting my shutters and drinking from a fat coffee mug, that makes me feel like my corner of the universe is more airy and bright than it's ever been.

Afterward, we stopped by Sprouts and picked up some Ollipop Colas because Hannah is obsessed with them. Then I finished up work for the day, accidentally showing up to a meeting while wearing my "Gay for Soccer" ballcap for a good 15 seconds before whipping it off.

I redownloaded Daily Yoga and am dedicating 20 minutes tonight to stretching my calves before attempting another 5 K tomorrow. No shin splints this time. Also carbo-loading with homemade smoked gouda cheeseburgers with caramelized onion and roasted delicata squash.

I showered deeply and stood in the steam, breathing into my stomach and praying to no one in particular that some of the rough plaster I've been covering myself with to say safe is cracking off and away. Strong and vulnerable instead of brittle and shielded.

Is there something worthy, strange, and ethereal underneath my skin that makes all of this worth it? Unerasible and deeper than addiction and bad self-esteem. When I'm serene, and the tasks of the day have been crossed off their lists, there's a golden flutter of something like purpose.

An intuition that good things are coming, the best things yet to arrive. It's what got me through in the pit and it's what is pushing me forward still.

[missmonsters2]

today I feel awful... idk my insecurities are taking over me and I just want to curl into a ball and cry. maybe it's my hormones maybe the fact that I weighted myself and found out I gained weight (I can't fit into my jeans 😭) and the fact that I saw my sister in a tight skin dress looking perfect while I'm in my pj's just destroyed my confidence. I need something angsty to read to make me forget about my sad, miserable lffe right now. would you be down in writing sth angsty with nat maybe? you don't have to though. it's fine either way. I really appreciate all of your work and I keep reading on repeat whenever I'm feeling down. makes me cheer up. thank you, van ❤️

It's like we're the same person because I also went to visit my sister recently and my sister has gotten her life together and is living her best hot girl bod while I...let's not go there.

I just want you to know that you're hot as fuck and a body is just a body that we can change with time and effort. We're lit rally in this together. This time next year, we will be rocking the body that makes up happy and we'll be healthy!!! 💘💘

But I will still give you nat angst...but with a happy ending bc I said you deserve a HEA!!

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The Withers of Springtime Bloom

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spring is a time of blooming and when things come back to life. You can't help but notice things that may be causing your relationship with Natasha to wither.

Warnings: self-esteem issues, insecurities about body, relationship with working out and food, seasonal depression. angst with HEA.

Count: 2.1k~

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You're not sure when things changed.

Things change so slowly after all.

Without you noticing, things change and change and change until one day, you do notice.

You notice that Natasha has become quieter, somber.

You notice the lack of date nights and affectionate touches.

You notice that you've let yourself go a little.

You're standing in front of the mirror, staring at your body with a frown. You've gained weight since dating Natasha, but relationship weight gain was normal, wasn't it?

But you remember how Natasha was just as fit as she was before she met you. Sure, she was a superhero, and you were a regular civilian; there was no reason for you to train long hours as Natasha did.

Still...

You turn to the side and peer at yourself in the mirror again.

You can't help but wonder...were you becoming less attractive to her?

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It had been the beginning of fall when you met Natasha. You loved the season of change and when things turned into warm colors before withering away for winter to come.

Natasha had come like a blessing, and in the winter, she was just warm as the colors of fall. Instead of withering away, she bloomed and invested that warmth in your relationship with her.

Despite always being an early riser to work out, weekends were the days she stayed in bed with you just a little longer. There had been so many breakfasts, lunch, and dinner dates. You found yourself moving things around or neglecting to work around her busy schedule.

Perhaps that was when things began to change. Eating out so often and forgoing working out to spend time with Natasha was what led to this.

Spring has arrived, and things are coming back to life. Yet somehow, your relationship with Natasha was withering away.

"Hey," you greet her as you come home, shopping bags in hand. You bought some more clothes when things felt like they didn't fit comfortably anymore. The experience had been upsetting for you, and you didn't end up buying too much, telling yourself you didn't want to spend too much when you were going to lose the weight.

Natasha was working in her office, peering down over reports, and barely acknowledged you other than with a hum.

"Long day?" You ask her as you put your things away and walk over to her.

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "Trying to get these reports done since Maria needs them tomorrow."

That had been Natasha's excuse for spending long hours in her office every night for the last two weeks.

You place your hand on Natasha's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, but she leans to the side as if to readjust herself, but still away from your touch.

The sting immediately comes, but you try to push it down, so it doesn't hurt as bad.

"Right," you say hoarsely, but Natasha stares on at the reports. "I'm just going to get ready for bed. It's been a long day and all. Let me know if you need anything."

Natasha gives you a nod as you leave the room. You feel awkward as you lie in the bed you share with her. You wonder if you're taking up too much space.

There's a pang of something as you try to curl yourself to be smaller and only distantly realizing you've skipped dinner before you fall asleep.

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You fall back onto the mat, chest heaving and your lungs burning.

It's been a while since you've worked out, and now you're definitely paying for it with how unfit you are.

The gym is moderately empty with the hour it is. You hate going to a public gym because it always feels like someone is staring, but it's better for strangers to stare than working out at the Compound for people you know to stare at you.

The rational part of you knows that you should just talk to Natasha, but the emotional side of you whispers that you won't like what Natasha has to say, that she might even end it before you've had a chance to change yourself.

When weeks pass, and you weigh yourself again, you almost start crying because you've only lost a couple of pounds.

It's normal, you know it is. You're losing weight at a normal rate, but it's not enough. You know fast weight loss wouldn't make sense for your body but you also feel you don't have half a year to go back to your normal weight.

You sit on the bathroom floor for hours, debating what to do when you hear a quiet knock.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" Natasha's muffled voice comes through.

You wipe at your eyes furiously as you stand up.

"Y-Yeah," you answer back. "I'm just in the tub soaking."

There's a moment of silence through the door before Natasha answers back, "Alright. Enjoy yourself. Did you want me to order anything specific for dinner?"

"No, it's okay," you tell her. "You order anything you want. I already ate on my way home." You think about the chicken salad you've been eating for the past two weeks and almost sigh.

Natasha answered that she just came back to see if you've eaten, but she actually had to head back to the Compound. You were Natasha shuffling around before leaving through the front door, and you let out the breath you were holding.

You actually take a long, hot shower before putting on sweats and a big hoodie.

The truth was, you were hungry. The chicken salad was okay on the way home, but it had been a couple of hours since.

You knew starving yourself wasn't the answer, so you went into the kitchen to see if you could find something healthy to hold you over until you could go to bed.

But you can't find anything in the fridge except for Natasha's leftovers from whatever she ordered the day before. You can't find anything except frozen pizzas and microwavable foods.

You check the calories on the back and let out a frustrated sigh. Checking your watch, you realize it's too late in the evening to go grocery shopping because, by the time you get there, stores will have closed.

You slump down on the floor, leaning against the cabinets as you let out a pathetic whimper while your eyes became hot with tears.

You miss Natasha. You want Natasha holding you and telling you it would be okay. But you couldn't have that until you were back to what you were when you met her.

The front door suddenly opens.

"Have you seen my—sweetheart?" Natasha started to call before she noticed you sitting on the floor. "What's wrong?"

You use your sleeve to wipe at your eyes as you sit up straight.

"Nothing," you sniffle before you start to stand. "I just stubbed my toe against the edge of the kitchen island. What were you looking for? USB? You left it next to the bedside."

Natasha stares at your back, hair still wet as she takes in your attire.

"It's a little hot to be wearing a hoodie and sweats, isn't it?" Natasha asks softly. "Doesn't seem like you turned on the aircon in here."

You keep walking, but Natasha starts to follow you.

"'m cold," you say quietly so she can't hear the tremble in your voice.

"Are you feeling sick?" Natasha asks with concern as you sit down on the couch, turning on the TV. You pull the blanket over you as if to make your point.

"No," you tell her because you don't want her to worry. "Just cold after a bath."

Natasha sets her things down before she takes a seat next to you. Even in the low lighting, she can see your eyes rimmed red and dampness of them.

You're refusing to look at her as you have your knees drawn up to your chest and stare stubbornly at the TV screen.

Then she hears it.

Your stomach grumbles.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" Natasha asks softly again. "We can just order food and stay in tonight."

Your cheeks grow hot. "Don't you have to be at the Compound?"

You don't mean to snap at her, but you can't help but feel embarrassed.

Natasha remains quiet for a moment, quickly thinking over the last few weeks before she feels guilt trickle in.

She doesn't remember the last time she ate with you—doesn't remember the last time she saw you eat.

"Sweetheart," she calls you gently again, and you bristle at the tone. "Is there something wrong?"

The fragile dam you've built to keep the weeks of compiling emotions at bay breaks, and you're hurtling down the stream over the waterfall.

"Are you not in love with me anymore?" You choke out as you begin to cry.

You can't even register to feel horrified at your breakdown because you just need to know.

"I know...I know my body has changed since we first met and I've gained weight but I really am trying to lose it. I just—I feel like you're avoiding me. At first, I thought things at work have been really stressful for you, and I wanted to give you space but you're gone all the time. You're gone even when you're here."

Natasha can barely understand anything you've said after hearing you say the first part. Her breath hitches painfully in the back of her throat, and she legitimately feels appalled at herself.

She starts to say something, but you keep going.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to make this about me because if you're going through something then I want to support and be there for you. But I can't help but feel like you're grossed out by me. I mean—I feel grossed out when I look at myself. I feel like I'm taking up so much space—"

Natasha cuts you off abruptly, pulling off the blanket as she pulls at you until you're in her lap.

"Nat—"

"You're not gross and this is not about the weight you have or have not gained. You hear me?" Natasha says forcefully as she holds you close to her, hand over your thigh to keep you against her.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry if I've been making you feel like you're not attractive me," Natasha's eyes well up as your tears wet her shoulder. "You're literally still the most gorgeous person I've ever met and you're always going to be that to me."

Natasha's hand at your waist dips underneath your hoodie, her fingers trailing up your back as she sighs at your warmth. "I should've told you, but the springtime is just really hard for me. It's odd because it's a time for things to come back to life but some of the worst things have happened to me during the spring and things blooming makes me think about things that aren't coming back. I think it's also just a little bit of seasonal depression too. I'm just the rare percentage that gets it in the spring."

The explanation makes your body sag with relief because while you feel so horrible that there is a reason Natasha doesn't like spring, she's not falling out of love with you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I was hurting you," Natasha apologizes again. "I didn't mean to be so distant but I didn't want to bring your mood down as well, which is why I've been working so much to keep busy."

"It's okay," you muttered as your turn your head, forehead pressed against her neck. "I'm sorry spring is depressing for you."

Natasha merely hushes you as she kisses the side of your head.

You begin to feel awkward, thinking about how you must be heavy on her and try to move, but Natasha doesn't let you.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how to convince you that you're perfect to me," Natasha says so seriously as she forces you to look at her. "If you want to lose weight because that is what you want, then I support you. But I need you to understand that I love you no matter what. I don't care either way because you're so fucking lovely to me always. Do you understand?"

Timidly, you reply, "Okay. Thank you."

Natasha presses her lips against yours in a long kiss before she pulls back.

"Now, I'm going to ask again. Are you hungry? We can order in and watch that new show on Netflix I heard was pretty good from Wanda."

You feel lighter. You think you might still want to work out because that would make you happy, but you don't feel the rush like you did just a couple of hours ago.

"Yeah," you say shyly. "But maybe something not so heavy?"

Natasha nods as she presses another kiss into your cheek as she helps you settle onto the couch right beside her to grab her phone.

"Anything to make you bloom."

[lubdubsworld]

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts.

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[  Author’s Note :  物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“Yoongi left a bunch of painkillers for you. He said you can take up to three per day.” Jin said calmly , carefully slipping the sleeves of my t shirt over my wrist as i held my arms out for him. He slipped the shirt over my head gently but his arms hit my shoulders, jostling me.   I swallowed the whimper of pain that shot through me at the movement. Mina was now awake, happily wiggling around on her rocker. 

It was a little past seven in the evening and Jungkook wasn’t due to arrive for another hour . 

“I could sleep on a bed of rusty nails right now. I’m so tired and i don’t know why. “ I whispered, staying still as he carefully drew the fabric down over my ribs, before stepping back. 

“I’ll sleep in the nursery with her. You should take the bed. You’re in no shape to be up and taking care of her when she wakes up. Jungkook’s asked me to stay here during the day because I’m not going to be performing for a couple months anyway and I’ve been losing my mind, rattling around that huge ass mansion all by myself. ” 

The phone rang, startling both of us. 

I groaned before moving to get up but Jin oppa held a hand up.

“Stay in bed. I’ll go see who it is.” 

I watched him disappear out of the room, settling back against the pillows and reaching for the ice pack in the small cooler by the bed. I had to ice my ribs every hour or so and while it didn’t seem to be helping much, I definitely appreciated the temporary numbness it offered. 

Jungkook’s guilt had driven a new wedge between us and he hadn’t so much as looked at me in three days. 

I wasn’t sure entirely if this was a good or bad thing. The fact that he seemed to be considering that he had to get his emotions under control to stop hurting the people around him was a welcome change. But the idea of going back to being ignored and treated like furniture , wasn’t really all that appealing. 

“Jungkook’s parents are on the way.” Jin’s voice broke through my reverie and i jumped. 

I resisted the urge to sob out loud . 

Mr and Mrs. Jeon were on the opposite side of the grief spectrum and just as annoying. 

Where Sooah’s parents were intent on making Jungkook remember their daughter as often as possible, Jungkook’s parents were intent on making him forget her. 

The only thing the two of them had in common was a burning hatred for me. 

Jungkook’s parents had wanted him to quit the company and sell it when it went into loss but Jungkook had categorically refused because that would result in all of his employees getting laid off, and back then Jungkook had been nothing if not ridiculously compassionate. Jungkook’s parents firmly believed that if it hadn’t been for me, their son would be back in Busan, letting them raise their granddaughter. 

“Great, that’s great. Did you tell them their son is not around?” I grimaced. I’d only met them three times in total and the last time was in the hospital two months ago when Jungkook had crashed in the middle of a board meeting, weeks of starving and dehydration catching up to him. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience, getting cursed out in front of the doctors and nurses and it probably won’t be any fun in the privacy of my home either. 

Jin gave me a sympathetic smile. 

“He’s already told them he’s on the way. I’m going to take Mina out on a walk. Give you guys some privacy. Shoot me a text when they leave.” he said gently. 

“Can’t I come with?” I begged and he laughed. 

“That would be a bad idea, even if it weren’t for the cracked rib. Just relax. Smile and nod and let them spew whatever nonsense they want and then they’ll leave. ” 

I opened my mouth to tell him how many flaws there were in his plan when the doorbell rang. 

“And that’s my cue. Text me, yeah?” Jin moved to pick Mina up from the rocker before reaching for the baby carrier on the table. 

I debated the pros and cons of staying in bed and finally decided against it, gently throwing my legs off the edge and raising myself up to a sitting position. I heard vague voices by the front door, Jin’s sweet tones mingling with Jungkook’s slightly gruffer ones. 

I heard the door close and the stillness of the apartment was as oppressing as ever. I could hear him quite clearly though. The clink of the keys as they hit the bowl, the small click of the door as he locked it. 

i could imagine him, exhausted from the day’s work, briefcase held in one hand while the other tugged on the knot of his tie. 

I imagined for a second, what it must have been like for him with Sooah. She was a bright , incredibly cheerful person. Everyone kind of faded into the background when she was around. Sooah had always been the first to smile at a stranger, the first to laugh even if the joke wasn’t funny. The first one to stand up to help someone in need. 

I swallowed, clutching the sheets to ground myself. 

I guessed that she must’ve always rushed to greet him at the door. I could imagine him wrapping both arms around her waist, drawing her into a hug or even a kiss. 

 How was your day, Kookie?  (I’d heard her call him that, once when they had been at my father’s house for a charity dinner. )

I wondered if perhaps the very sight of her would have taken away all of the day’s exhaustion from him. Perhaps, he would forget all the ways his company had been failing back then at the sight of her beautiful laughing face. Perhaps losing his company hadn’t been as terrifying as losing his job.  

And perhaps once he lost her, he just couldn’t bear the thought of losing his life’s work too. And so he’d agreed to meet my father’s demands. 

My fingers began trembling a bit .

I could imagine her moving around the house, pregnant and glowing, laughing as he nuzzled into the curve of her belly. Had he perhaps pressed his lips to her skin, whispered sweet endearments to his daughter through the fabric of his wife’s clothes? Had he perhaps loved Mina, deeply? WAs it just his grief that made it hard to be near his wife. Or was it perhaps me? Me holding the baby that should have been in his beautiful wife’s arms. 

The wife he had been so madly, deeply in love with. 

Love, I thought vacantly.

It wasn’t something I had ever felt, for anyone until I’d began caring for Mina.

But what Jungkook had with his wife was something different wasn’t it? 

The love a man had for a woman. Laced with desire, longing and passion. A love that made you put their happiness over your own.  

Love like that had never been in the cards for me. 

Ever

I was an Omega. Rare and hated and known for being selfish and greedy. People didn’t love my kind. They avoided me. They always assumed I would take advantage of them. My peers growing up had treated me with so much contempt. 

 The girls would whisper how I was trying to seduce their boyfriends. The boys would call me a tease, even when I stayed far away and did nothing to attract their attention. I’d gotten used to it. It didn’t bother me. it was the way of the world for me. Ad it wasn’t like I could honestly deny some of it. 

I looked at handsome alphas and wanted them. I wanted to be held and cherished. To be bought pretty things and cared for. It had taken decades for me to beat that part of mine into submission. To remind myself that if I ever let that part of me out, it would destroy me. 

But love? Being in love with someone? 

I didn’t know what that could have been like for Jungkook. 

Or maybe I had but I couldn’t recognize it because I’d never received it myself. Whatever the cause, it was for me, a fairytale. It was hard to imagine people loving each other so much, to the extent that they would die for each other. ( Jungkook’s words still hung in the back of my mind : that he had wanted to follow her even in death ) 

Jungkook was right.

I could never know what his loss was like. 

Because I would never know what he had lost. 

It felt a little like being dipped in an ice cold lake in the middle of winter. My skin broke out in shivers, hair standing on end and I felt my throat go dry so swiftly. I’d never wanted to run away so much. I wrapped a hand sound myself, scooting back on the bed again. I reached for the blanket, wanting to pull it over my head and curl into a ball. 

Shut out the world and all the things that didn’t make sense. 

“Are you alright?” Jungkook’s voice broke through the haze in my head and I swallowed. He had an alpha’s voice and my body responded even if my mind resisted. It didn’t happen all the time. Jungkook couldn’t control me. But sometimes when I was feeling vulnerable, instincts took over . I was already dropping the blanket and smiling softly.

“Mina’s out for a walk.” I croaked out, surprised at how awful my voice sounded. 

I felt the press of something against my fingers and I blinked, staring at the glass of water Jungkook was pressing into my hand.

“Don’t worry, I called them and told them not to come over.” He said quietly , watching me drink with still trembling fingers. 

I swallowed and stared at him. 

“I... Thank you. “ I said fervently, feeling a few knots come undone in my gut. I couldn’t really stand up to Jungkook’s parents the way I did with Sooah’s parents. Because Jungkook loved them deeply and hurting them would be the same as hurting him. 

“There’s a party in a couple of days. It’s my birthday. I’m turning 34.  Yugyeom’s organizing the whole thing, so I’m going to hire a babysitter for Mina, because Jin hyung will be there too and you need help caring for her anyway. You can stay home and rest. ” he said . 

I scoffed. 

“I’m going to come with you.” I said firmly. 

Jungkook frowned. 

“What?” 

I glared at him. 

“I’m not letting you go to a party organized by your shit for brains friend, Jungkook. You’ll probably end up getting drunk out of your mind and killing someone and I’m not going to hang around to clean that up. I’m coming to that party and I’m making sure you don’t have more than one drink.  “

Jungkook’s frown deepened into a scowl. 

Did you ever look at your wife , like this? With so much loathing? I thought stupidly. Or did she only ever get to see the sweet and wonderful side of you? Did she ever annoy you the way i seem to every second of the damn day ? Did you hate certain things about her too? Or was she so perfect that you could only feel love ? 

“ I can take care of myself. Its my birthday , I can do whatever the fuck I want.“ He snapped. 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 

“Not unless you’re a five year old kid in the sandpit, which you’re not. You’re an adult and when you make stupid decisions as an adult, very real people end up paying for it. You’re old enough to know this Jungkook and for once, just listen to me. You can drink, fine. But I’m going to be there and if I see that you’re getting drunk, I’m going to bring you home. You either agree or I’m going to call Yoongi oppa .” 

That made him pause. 

“Fine. Fuck you.” He snapped, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. A few seconds later I heard the door to the shower slam shut.  

 I wanted to follow him and shake some sense into him but before I could decide if it was worth jostling my body, when another sharp pain lanced through my ribs.

Oh great. 

I took deep breaths the way Yoongi had taught me. Apparently, pneumonia was a thing that could happen, so i had to breath carefully to reduce the risk of that happening. 

The birthday party organized by Yugyeom was going to be a whole entire migraine inducing disaster. I could already feel the headache come on. It still amazed me that Jungkook was friends with him and his cronies. 

Yugyeom and his friends were the typical; brain dead alphas who thought themselves superior to all other ranks. Even worse, they viewed omegas as objects: fucktoys to be more precise and I bristled when i remembered the way he had always stared at me. 

Well, if he stepped anywhere near me, I would kick him in the teeth. 

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

When Jungkook’s mother turned up at home the next day, I wasn’t entirely surprised. I wasn’t surprised but it didn’t make things any more pleasant. 

“We’re willing to take Mina for a couple of days if you would both need time to prepare for the party. This is the first big event Jungkook’s holding after Sooah’s passing and we want it to be perfect. As his wife, i hope you’ll do your part.” 

Mrs Jeon’s pinched face did nothing for my already frayed temper. 

“There’s not much i can do with a cracked rib, mother.” I said politely. It stung, having to call this bitter, cruel woman mother but then, such was life. It was late afternoon and Jungkook was probably sitting in the comfort of his air conditioned office, being flattered and doted on by his smitten secretary while I sat here entertaining his vicious mother. 

“Nonsense, you’ve probably just scratched it. I know how you omegas like to exaggerate. “ she waved off my injury easily. “ There are so many details that need to be decided on and its unfair to drop all of those responsibilities on poor yugyeom’s head. Why don’t you go with him and help out a bit?” 

The idea of going anywhere with Kim Yugeom was easily the most repugnant thing to me. 

“I’m sure he knows Jungkook much better than I do. If i interfered, I’d only be getting in his way.” I said politely. 

Mrs. Jeon hummed.

“Well, its good that he’s agreed to the party at least. That woman never let him meet with Yugyeom or his friends when she was around.”

That woman being Jungkook’s late wife. 

I felt a sudden fondness for her. Clearly she had also recognized Yugyeom for the absolute pig that he was and kept her husband away from his rotten influence . But unlike with her, Jungkook didn’t actually care about me. So I had no way of stopping him from meeting the idiots. Yugyeom’s family was rich and reputed and it was clear that the Jeons wanted the friendship and the connection. Why else would they keep pushing for it so much?

“Is there any particular reason you’re here, mother?” I said finally, after hearing her babble on and on about caterers and invitations and what not. 

“I was hoping to meet Mina...why isn’t she here?” 

“I’m not able to care for her well, what with the rib. The doctor has advised me to rest so Jin oppa takes care of her during the day. Jungkook picks her back up on his way back from office. I can send her over to your place with him this weekend.” 

“That would be fine i suppose. Have you spoken to the decorators about changing the portraits put up in the house?”

I blinked.

“Sorry?”

“The penthouse, we’ve got it back now right? why don’t you move there. We have a cook and a housekeeper .”]

“this is closer to Jungkook’s office.” I had no idea where the penthouse was and could only hope it was farther way. 

Mrs. Jeon frowned. 

“This apartment is too small. Not to mention, you still have Sooah’s photos everywhere in this place. Surely that’s not healthy. Get rid of them and put up pictures of you and Jungkook.” 

Jungkook’s parents didn’t know that our marriage had an expiry date. i wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing. But they saw me as nothing more than a way to get rid of Sooah from the deepest recesses of Jungkook’s mind. 

“I’m sure, with time...Jungkook can make that decision by himself. When he’s ready for it.” I said gently, beginning the fresh throb of pain near my temple. 

“Nonsense, Heejin. Men won’t ever move on until you force them. Have you considered getting  pregnant?” 

I jumped about a foot into the air.

“I...what.” I croaked out. 

“You need a child too. He mated you. He owes you that. I’m going to tell him that he better do his duty by you.” She said firmly. 

“Please don’t.” I shouted, stunned out of my mind. Was this woman even sane?

“Why not?” She frowned looking at me like i was the one being unreasonable. 

 Why not? Because its barely been four months since he lost his wife of seven years to childbirth. Surely, you don’t think the remedy to that is to have him go through it all over again. 

 “ Mina is still small, mother. I’m sure we can wait a while. Maybe after she’s one or two.” 

 Jungkook would probably move on by then. Of course he would. Grief was overwhelming but it was also finite. It did get smaller over time. Easier to cope with. Jungkook would eventually be able to navigate his life around his grief. He would learn to make new connections and who was to say one of those wouldn’t be a compatible match? 

So two years from now, there was no reason Jungkook shouldn’t meet another lovely woman, a beta maybe and eventually expand his family. Of course i would be nowhere in the picture at the time. But that was fine. 

I remembered something I’d read somewhere, a while back. 

 If two people are like ships that pass in the night, they meet by chance for a short time , then do not see each other ever again. 

Like ships passing by each other in the night,  I reminded myself. That's what Jungkook and I were. 

“Well, if you think that’s wise.... fine. But now that Jungkook’s doing well, why don’t you entertain people more often? You haven’t had a dinner party here yet, have you?”

And so it went on, over an over for a whole two hours until I was wrung out from sheer exhaustion, my head throbbing and nails having dug half moon indents into my palms from fisting my hands too hard. 

By the time i finally closed the door on her face, I couldn’t help but sag against the door, sinking to the floor in a heap, cracked rib be damned. 

I glanced up at the solo portrait on the wall. The one my mother in law had wanted gone. 

“She must’ve really hated you, huh?” I said casually pulling myself up to my feet and moving to the dining space to stare at her face more closely. 

She was dressed in her wedding gown, a fitted mermaid dress with lace and satin detailing. She had a bouquet of white lilies in one hand, elbows bent and the blooms resting on her shoulder while her other hand curved around her slender waist. 

Beautiful was an understatement, I thought vacantly. 

“ You look like you didn’t put up with people’s bullshit. That’s cool I guess.” I smiled a little. “ You know in another world, we may have been friends.” 

I bit my lips.

“Yugyeom was shitty to you too huh? He seems the type. i’m glad you kept Jungkook away from him. I wish you’d somehow help get him away again. He doesn’t listen to me. Thinks I’m trying to control him or something. ”

It was ridiculous. What was i doing.. Why was i talking to a framed picture on the wall. God.

But now that I’d started, I couldn’t quite stop.

“About what happened with Jungkook... I don’t want you to think i was seducing him or anything. And when i said that I hated him calling your name when we... well you know why i said it right? It wasn’t anything personal...i was just pissed. I don’t enjoy the sex by the way... I don’t think he does either but he’s an alpha and you know how it is…they need that release or they kind of lose their mind .. So trust me we both hate the principle of it.... but at least he cums and well I don’t. He’s never made me cum. That should say something about how we feel about each other.......”

“Uh.. Should I come back later?” The voice near the doorway was so unexpected my heart jumped right to my throat and I screamed, stumbling a bit to the side.

Min Yoongi stood framed by the door, one hand wrapped around a bouquet of flowers and the other clutching his bag and stethoscope. He still had his white coat on over his shirt and slacks, hair mussed like he’d run his finger through it.

It took me a second to remember that Yoongi had a key to the house.

Another second to remember exactly what I’d been doing when he came inside.

Good God.

Had he heard the part where I’d talked about Jungkook not making me cum? Surely not? Oh Please no. 

“Jungkook told me to check on you. That you couldn’t sleep last night? Are you in a lot of pain?” 

Jungkook and I had shared the bed in his room last night and I had apparently, tossed and turned and whimpered through the night in pain. Or so Jungkook claimed. 

“Uh... I’m not sure. He said so... so..” 

“you guys sleep together right?” Yoongi asked casually, taking his coat off. I stared at the way the material of the shirt strained over his shoulders, my throat just a little dry. 

Yoongi smelled so ridiculously good. He was a doctor and he was so handsome and kind to me. The attraction would have been there even if i had been a beta but as an omega, the urge to just fling myself at him and beg him to make me his, it was kind of horrifying. 

Tamping down that part of me, I gave him a casual shrug, heart still pounding. 

“Yeah. There’s just two bedrooms here and one is Mina’s nursery. So ...” I finished awkwardly, watching him move around and place his bag on the table before unwinding the stethoscope, placing it around his collar. 

He gave me a small smile. 

“I’ll just take a quick look and check how your breathing sounds. that okay?” He asked gently. 

“Oh... sure. You need me to take my shirt off?” I asked curiously. 

He gave me a quick little smirk. 

“Not for medical reasons no.” He winked. 

I felt blood rush to my face along with guilt. What was I doing? This was Jungkook’s best friend!! His hyung. Someone he trusted and I was his....

His what? 

Nothing. I was Jungkook’s nothing. When was the last time someone had flirted with me . Someone who wasn’t a grade A creep. 

Yoongi moved closer, sitting down on the kitchen stool and beckoned me to come stand between his thighs. i moved, achingly aware of how much more potent his scent was up close. He looked up at me through sooty black lashes, a small smirk on his lips, feline eyes warm and open . 

“Put your hands on my shoulders, yeah?” He prompted. 

I hesitated, fingers shaking just a little before reaching out to rest on this shirt. I kept the touch feather light , the softness of his shirt the only thing I could feel.

He hummed and bending  down to lightly tug the hem of my shirt out of the waistline of my jeans. I bit my lips to stop myself from squirming. 

He glanced up , eyes meeting mine and holding my gaze. 

“You good?” 

“Uhuhbuh.” I stuttered and he grinned wider, pulling the fabric up to the curve of my breasts. He lightly ran his finger tips over the bruised skin , humming thoughtfully .

“You’ll be fine in a few weeks. Hang on.” He pulled back, plugging the steth in his hear before holding the other end up to my chest. He pressed it against my skin, just before the underwire of my bra and it was unexpectedly cold .

I jumped, fingers curling on his shoulder and squeezing down. 

“Hey.. what’s wrong?” Yoongi whispered, hands reaching for my waist, gently holding me steady and I flushed. He looked genuinely worried , lips turned down and brows furrowed and i felt absolutely stupid. 

“Sorry. Sorry.... It’s nothing.. i just.. it’s a little cold.” I laughed nervously and his gaze softened. 

One hand still curved around my waist, he brought the diaphragm up to his mouth, holding my gaze as he gently breathed warm air all over it. 

My throat went instantly dry and i had to swallow. He pressed it against my chest again and this time it was so much warmer. .

“Better?” He prompted and i nodded, guilt and discomfort churning in my stomach. What was i doing? I had no business indulging him. i had no business indulging any man. Ever.

 I looked away, pulling my hands up off his shoulder, pushing his hand off my hip as well . He didn’t say anything his shoulders stiffened at the subtle rejection. 

A mantle of awkward tension settled over us, a small thundercloud of regret and that threatened to rain misery all over us. I wanted to kick myself.  He was older than Jungkook by four years. Thirty eight years old. 

Did he have a girlfriend? Oh god, what if he was martried?

Nausea threatened. 

“Your breathing sounds fine. Are you practicing those breathing exercises , I taught you?” He asked casually and I nodded . I couldn’t trust myself to speak. 

“Hey...” He said gently and I flinched. 

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out. “ I didn’t mean to lead you on or tease you in any way and I’m sorry if i came on to you ...”

“What?! Heejin, stop. That’s bullshit. You never did any such thing. This was all me.” He said firmly. 

I stared at him.

“I know you’re married but... your marriage, its going to end right? Eventually.” 

I made to step back but he grabbed my waist again, this time a few inches over my jean and his fingers on the bare skin of my midriff made me want to melt. He had long slender fingers, a surgeons hands, and the press of it on my skin felt so foreign and gentle and different and good. 

“We don’t have to do anything. I just... I thought we could get to know each other. Over coffee or dinner.”

I wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all.

Because Yoongi was beautiful and handsome and so good and so much more than I could ever even dream of,  but he was and would always be so intricately woven with Jungkook and with Jungkook’s life. And I couldn’t imagine anything more messy than sticking around and watching Jungkook and his daughter forget me and move on.

“It’s.... probably a terrible idea. “ I said roughly, shaking my head. “ Its the kind of idea that would never end well.” 

“Are you sure? Because unlike Jungkook, i could probably make you cum.” He winked and I felt my face flame red. 

“Oh God...” I hissed, stumbling back. This time he let me move away, merely chuckling and reaching for his coat and bag . 

“I won’t bother you again. But the offer’s always open, yeah?” He smiled again. “ You need me to send over more pain meds?”

I shook my head mutely, begging him to just leave already. 

He nodded and held his hand up in a casual wave before walking out of the door. I collapsed on the stool and dropped my head into my arms , groaning. 

What had i gotten myself into. 

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

I didn’t actually see Jungkook for a couple of days. The meds knocked me out and he worked overtime, only arriving after I’d slept off and leaving before i woke up. Jin brought Mina around everyday and there was something absolutely exhilarating about watching her clutch at her little teething toys and rattles, gummy smile peeking out every few minutes. 

On a whim, i told Jin what had happened with Yoongi and much to my surprise he actually laughed. 

“About time . He’s been pining for what three years now?” 

I gaped at him, completely thrown.

“I..he.. what.” I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what I had heard. 

“He saw you at that art exhibition you put up in the Hyatt . By the way, don’t you paint anymore?”

I flushed. 

I had no proper response to that. What could i say? That my painting had just been yet another way to control me, only appreciated by father when he could use it to make more money. And that part of my marriage contract included that I wouldn’t paint or make any money off my art for the duration that I stayed with Jungkook. 

It was just yet another way my father reminded me that he controlled him. I didn’t fight him because he would win anyway. And the only thing he loved more than controlling people was winning battles that were always rigged in his favor. i wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. I would soldier through this awful marriage and at the end of it , i would disappear without a trace. 

I shook my head vaguely and Jin hummed. 

“Yoongi doesn’t understand art but he hung around the entire nine hours , morning to night . Three whole days of him just pretending to look at the artwork while secretly making moon eyes at you.”

I could only stare in sheer disbelief. 

“i... i never knew.” 

“How could you? Yoongi’s idea of courting is pretending he doesn’t exist and fading into the background. “ Jin rolled his eyes. “ He tried approaching your father to officially court you but your old man shut that down rather brutally.” 

I swallowed . 

“I... I’m sorry.” i said feeling foolish. Three years...what? I couldn’t think beyond the shock of the information. 

“Does Jungkook know?” I asked , scared. 

Jin shook his head.

“Like I said Yoongi never made it known . He was afraid it would make life difficult for you. He didn’t want any rumors around because everyone knew your father was looking to offer you to someone rich and young. Yoongi was what , fifteen years older? That’s quite a difference.”

“Thirty eight isn’t old.” I said sharply and Jin’s brow went up. 

“Oh?” He questioned teasingly and I flushed. 

“Jungkook is eleven years older. What’s another four more years?” I shrugged.

“You’re interested then.” Jin said thoughtfully. I recoiled, shaking my head quickly.

“I...what? No. No I’m not. “ 

“Why not? If it isn’t the age, then there’s no reason  to say no. Yoongi is handsome , settled and a great guy all around and besides,  your time with Jungkook is finite right?” 

“I... I won’t cheat on him.” I said firmly. “ i can’t... I... besides, Jungkook and I... we’re... we have sex.” My ears turned red, “ I can’t do that with two guys... I’m not like that. “ 

Jin nodded.

“Its alright.. Heejinah ...I’m sorry if i pressured you or anything. You don’t have to do anything. I know you have a lot on your plate right now. Yoongi probably got carried away . More than likely he’s going to panic and avoid you for a year just to recover.” He laughed and I smiled reluctantly. 

“He’s nice I don’t want to hurt him. “ I said softly. 

“ Sometimes that’s just inevitable . People get hurt no matter what we choose.” Jin gave me a sad little smile. “ Jungkook is just as nice a gy as Yoongi. If not better. He’s just...not in the right headspace to show that side of himself to you. I wish you’d known him before Sooah. He used to be this...playful and funny kid. We all went out of our way to keep him safe. Sooah was just as amazing. Usually , we try to find flaws in people our friends  date right? Well trust me Sooah was hard to dislike .” He laughed, eyes misting over as his gaze landed on her  portrait over the mantle. 

I followed his gaze and swallowed. 

“Do you think Jungkook will ever get over her?” I asked simply. 

Jin hesitated. 

“Someday? Probably yes. But it won’t be easy. He’s ... He feels things deeply. He always has. He loved her deeply, he cared for her deeply and so its only obvious that he’s going to feel the loss of her presence very deeply too.” 

I nodded. 

“Its his birthday tomorrow.” I said softly. “ I have a gift for him. Well its not a gift from me, but a gift nonetheless.  But I’m not sure if I should give it to him.” 

Jin gave me a surprised look. 

“What do you mean?” 

I smiled bitterly.

“Just that sometimes fate can be very cruel when it chooses its players. I’m forever wondering if he would be better off or worse without me in the picture and I just can’t decide.” 

“Different. He would just be different.” Jin said calmly. 

There was nothing else i could say to that. 

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

Yugyeom had rented out the rooftop restaurant in one of the poshest Hotels in Seoul and although the party was a pool party, I hadn’t bothered dressing for it. I wore a plain sequined top and burgundy skirt that fanned out around me knees. 

The place was teeming with people his age , friends acquaintances and business partners. The women had changed into bright , skimpy bikinis and lounged about in the brightly lit pool tossing a ball around .

The older people were being hosted by the Jeons on the lower level of the restaurant in a posh ballroom. Jungkook and i would have to visit them later but for now I was content sipping a mocktail, leaning against the bar while Hoseok and Lisa flanked me on either side, pointing out who was sleeping with who. 

Jungkook was in the pool with Yugyeom and Jimin and it was impossible to tear my eyes away from him. He looked happy almost, laughing and shaking water out of his hair as he moved around with the strength and agility of an Olympic athlete. Yoongi was in the pool as well and on the opposite team with Jin and Namjoon....and it was increasingly obvious that the half a dozen bikini clad women were there simply for an excuse to touch the handsome alphas as they worked up a sweat. 

“Jungkook is such a competitive bastard.” Hoseok laughed. “But I don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi today. i can’t believe he’s in the pool. “

“Of his own volition. “ Lisa added. “ usually someone has to strip him and toss him in. 

Yoongi kept glancing at me every few minutes. It was impossible to miss. It was also impossible to miss that at least three of the six women in the pool were trying to get into his pants. 

I sighed and turned back to the bartender asking for a refill. when i turned back around, Jungkook and Yugyeom were climbing out of the pool and Jin was moving to the opposite side to take their place with Jimin. 

“Jungkook and i are going to go get a drink. Anything for you , beautiful?” Yugyeom reached out to touch me and I almost fell in my haste to get away from him. 

“Keep your hands off me.” I snapped . Jungkook frowned. 

“No need to be rude, Heejin , he was just being polite.” He said softly and i smelt the alcohol on his breath.

“Don’t drink too much Jungkook.”

“Oh come on, beautiful., Its his birthday let him live a little...” Yugyeom laughed and I glared at him.

“I’d rather have him live longer “ I snapped. “ And that can’t happen if you keep trying to give him alcohol poisoning.” 

Yugyeom rolled his eyes. 

“Is she always this dramatic, Jungkook-ah.” Yugyeom laughed. Jungkook didn’t laugh but he gave me a look that said, ‘ please don’t make a scene’ and I bit my lips. 

I didn’t want to ruin his night. He looked ....so close to a normal person tonight and whether I liked it or not Yugyeom had contributed to that. The music was apparently Jungkook’s favorites only, the pool because he loved volleyball in the water and the buffet had all his favorite foods. Yugyeom had gone out of his way to make the party perfect and i suddenly felt like the troll stomping on Jungkook’s happiness. 

Swallowing my own instinct to drag my husband away from the alpha who had his arms around him, I turned away and walked off to the pool. Yoongi’s face lit up when he saw me.

“Hey there, angel. Here to watch me kick some ass? “ He cupped his hands in the water, before tossing a handful of water at me. I blinked in surprise, laughing a little. 

“I’m just here to cheer Jin oppa. “ I said impishly, moving over to the lounge chair near his side of the pool. Yoongi’s pout was adorable and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

Maybe I could stop worrying about Jungkook for a while. Yugyeom wasn’t dangerous. Even if he got a little drunk, I was still here. So were all of our friends. 

It would be fine. 

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

it wasn’t fine. 

An hour later, I found Jungkook in a room filled with cigarette smoke and light music, yugeyom and his friends scattered around the place with a few beautiful women lounging about on their laps. 

“You said one drink Yugyeom...he’s completely out of his mind.” I said shrilly staring at where Jungkook sat on the couch , shirtless and laughing as some girl in a bikini ran her fingers up and down his arm. She had one leg draped over his thigh.  I felt sick at the very sight of it. 

its because he’s drunk ,  I told myself.  He’s drunk and can’t consent, that’s why you feel sick, nothing else.  

Yugyeom gave me an easy smile. 

“Guy just wants to have some fun. Reina’s a friend of mine. She’ll take good care of him don’t worry. She’s the birthday gift i got him. “ He leered. 

I resisted the urge to punch him in the face. 

Glaring at him, 

“Jungkook, we’re leaving. Come on.” I made to move towards him but a hand shot out, gripping my wrist like a vice. 

“Not so fast baby.... I already paid for her. You can’t just waltz in here and take away her livelihood.” He sneered. “ Unless you want to take her place. This is a special bar you know. All these lovelies, they have something in common with you.” 

I stared at him frowning.

“What does that mean?” 

“I hired them from an omega escort agency...you know because that’s all you omegas are useful for anyway.” 

I rolled my eyes, yanking on my wrist. 

“You and your medieval ideals can go to hell. I’m going home. Jungkook!!” I yelled again and this time Jungkook turned eyes landing on me. 

“Heejin?” He slurred. 

“We need to go home, Jungkook.” I said firmly. 

“Now?” He blinked. I nodded. 

“Yes now.” I made to move away but this time Yugyeom wrapped both arms around my waist, pinning me to his body. Pain , sharp and unbearable shot up my ribs and I whimpered. He was squeezing too hard and God what if the cracked rib just snapped? 

Panic began setting in and I yelped.

“Let me go you bastard.” I struggled to get away, staring in disbelief at my husband . 

Jungkook was standing but he swayed dangerously. There was no clarity there and his eyes were hooded. He was drunk. Really, really drunk. 

“Jungkook tell him to let me go!!” I yelled , trying to tamp down the panic that was rising up my throat. 

“Don’t worry Kook. Just gonna ask her to wait outside for a while. Why don’t you finish your conversation with Reina.. i’ll entertain your wife for a while.” He drawled and i felt my entire body go ice cold at that. 

Jungkook was blinking rapidly, the words clearly not registering and genuine terror began to bleed into my veins. Jungkook couldn’t even fathom that i was in genuine danger here, let alone help me. Oh God, why had i come alone? Where were the others??

Yugyeom held me tighter and i swallowed a groan . My ribs felt like they were on fire. 

“Let’s take this somewhere private, Heejin?” He whispered into my neck and i couldn’t believe it. Yugyeom was drunk yes, but was this idiot also insane? 

“Wait...no.. Yugeyom don’t be a fucking idiot. If you touch me, that’s fucking rape...You can go to prison for that .” I shouted, trying to drill some sense into his head. He wasn’t going to risk prison to make a point was he?? 

“Not if you seduce me angel...and you’re going to... Or I’ll just tell people you did...same difference , right?” he whispered. 

And then he began dragging me off to the corner and my eyes fell on a side door leading out of the room . 

 If you let him take you there this is going to become frighteningly real,  a voice screamed in my head and I inhale deeply, ready to scream loud enough to get the attention of everyone in the damned building. 

The door opened just as I opened my mouth and I froze, watching Mrs Jeon walk into the lounge, looking lost.

“What is this place?” She muttered out loud looking around and the arms around me fell away so fast, I crashed to the floor. 

“Heejin-ah!” Yoongi’s voice came from right behind her and I flinched, willing my shaking legs to stop trembling. 

“Mrs. Jeon...” I muttered, voice strained and ribs throbbing. 

“Heejin? What is going on here? Where’s my son?” 

“Fuck... Jungkook-ah...” Yoongi moved to get him and I took a deep steadying breath. 

Years ago , I’d taken a self defence class and one thing i’d definitely enjoyed learning was how to throw a punch. And It wasn’t something i’d forgotten. 

Planting my feet firmly , i lightly rotated my hips, a subtle shift, before engaging my core , drawing all the fury and helpless rage inside me into my fist. I pulled my shoulders in and took a deep breath. Punch past your target , i told myself. You’re not just going to break his jaw you’re going to put him in the hospital tonight. 

“Mrs. Jeon, Jungkook had a great time toni-” His voice was all i needed to hear  to know exactly where his mouth was behind me. 

i relaxed my muscles as i threw the punch, contracting them just as my fist landed on Kim Yugyeom’s face.  

The satisfying sound of flesh on bone felt like music to my ears and Yugyeom’s sharp cry of sheer agonizing pain even sweeter. 

He crashed to the floor in a heap and I could feel my fist throb like hell. I was going to bruise so badly. But it was worth it. 

“That was for telling me that you were going to rape me and tell everyone that i seduced you.” I said calmly. 

Yoongi let out a noise of disbelief. 

“What the actual fuck.....” He shouted. 

“Yugyeom what the fuck man? Are you out of your damned mind?” One of his friends yelled. Yugyeom merely groaned. 

He couldn’t answer, blood trickling down his chin and hands cradling his jaw, whimpers falling out of his  mouth. My own fist throbbed like hell so the damage had to be significant. 

Mrs Jeon looked horrified and when she opened her mouth i quickly held a hand up.

“I’m not doing this. Not tonight. “ I said calmly. Jungkook was quiet, the way he always got when he was drunk and I groaned. 

It was going to be a long night. 

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

“We need to talk.” I said calmly and Jungkook swallowed. 

“Heejin, I’m -”

“Hear me out first Jungkook.” I said sharply. “ I don’t need your apology, it means nothing to me because it means nothing to you. You’re not sorry that you didn’t help me last night. You’re just angry that you had to help at all. You don’t give a fuck about me. I know that and I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is you getting drunk to the point that you don’t even recognize that someone’s in need of help. “ 

I took a deep breath. 

“If you did it to me, you’ll do it to your daughter too. Yugyeom is going to get you drunk someday when you’re taking care of Mina by yourself and then when she needs you, what are you going to do?” 

“You’re right... I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk -”

“I’m only here , talking to you , because of your daughter. If it was just you, I wouldn’t give a damn because you’re an adult and if you make your bed , you can just lie on it. It wouldn’t bother me. But Mina...she’s not capable of making the right choices. She need a father who can make the right choices, because whatever shitty choice you make, your daughter is going to be there along for the ride whether she wants to or not. You drive your car off a cliff tomorrow , she’s going to be there in the car seat laughing because she doesn’t know the consequences of your choices. “ 

I clenched my fists to keep my voice even. To stop myself from yelling. 

“I have something for you. “ 

I grabbed the brown paper wrapped canvas from under the table. 

“It’s a painting . Your wife commissioned me to make this a year ago when she got pregnant.” 

He froze so eerily still that it made me nervous.

“At first , i wasn’t sure if i should be giving it to you because well... because i was marrying you ... I wasn’t sure that it would be right, coming from me ...because I was taking your wife’s place after all...”

i laughed. 

“Now I know that's just bullshit. I don’t have a place in your life. I’m a nobody. This isn’t about me. This is about you. She told me back then that you were nervous about being a father. That was all she said. And she wanted me to pain this. “ I held the canvas out to him. 

“You can see it. I’m going to go stay with Jin oppa for a few days. I want you to see it. It shows how your wife saw you. The kind of father she hoped you would be. I want you to see it and make a choice. You can either get the help you need. “ i took a deep breath, “ Or I’m going to tell Yoongi that you’re incompetent to be a father. He’ll file charges , “ I had to close my eyes to get the next words out, “ and you will lose custody of your daughter.” 

Jungkook inhaled sharply, hands curling into fists on his knees. 

“i hope you make the right choice.” 

I wrapped both my arms around myself and walked out. 

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

Author’s note. :

I’m so exhausted I’ll tag people tomorrow! 

.@girlinthemikrokosmos  @xius-exos  @sugainfireslex  @yunkichiee@kpopstudybee @ephyraaaa  @peachoney9795 @ggukkieland  @veronawrites  @blr1004   @tinyhoagiepartylover @btsis7okay@squishyjk  @itsdingdong @emmmui  @honeeybunneey  @yeonkiminnie

@just-me-and-myselfs  @delicate-snow-flake  @kpop-lore  @beautifulvirgobutterfly @sumzysworld  @btsmylife21  @teresaisla

.@melrosaeparker @taestannie @dchimminie  @ meraki--life   @somewhereinthestarss  @mawwnsterr  @kookiesbreaky  @chimchoom 

[letarasstuff]

Showing the Bird

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you have fun reading it!

Summary: Spencer's daughter always is quick to pick things up she shoudn't do, this includes a certain gesture with her hand and middle fínger.

Warnings: A kid showing her middle finger

Wordcount: 1.6k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

Spencer is a technophobe. That’s why (Y/N) has limited access to any kind of electronics, which is a good thing for a three year old. The only sort she is allowed to use is the TV in the living room and even there her choices are limited to the several DVDs the little family owns and cable TV. Emily is in the process of persuading him to get a subscription to a streaming service for (Y/N)’s sake.

“Ok, Sweetheart. One hour of TV today before eating dinner and getting ready for bed, like we negotiated”, Spencer reminds his daughter before turning it on a kid’s channel. She nods, already engrossed by Peppa Pig hanging up on that sheep for being able to whistle.

Earlier the two Reids made a deal: If (Y/N) got all the states and their capitals right, she is allowed one hour of television. This may sound like he forced her to learn this information, but it’s really just a way to stimulate her brain and the toddler is eager to learn. Spencer only has to make it look like she has a gain in it.

The young doctor doesn’t like to leave his kid alone while watching TV. It’s not because he can’t leave her on her own for a few minutes. Spencer wants full control over what (Y/N) sees and what not. Especially he can tell what effects something has on a child and he doesn’t want her exposed to things she shouldn’t be subjected to at her age.

“Daddy, why are the animals talking to each other? I know they are translating all languages to us, but a pig speaks not sheep language.” Spencer is slightly baffled at her question. It’s mostly cute that she explains most things to herself in such a plausible way.

“Uhm, well Sweetheart. You have to-” Saved by the bell. Or more like the ring of his cellphone. Still he hesitates to get it. It’s Morgan, who probably calls because the team needs help with the case.

Spencer had to stay behind for this one, because he planned on taking his vacation days with (Y/N) to fly up to Las Vegas to visit her grandma. But Diana spontaneously took the opportunity to go on a trip with the sanctorium. Now the two do all the things they don’t have the time for in their regular day.

They already were at the aquarium, visited three different museums and even went to the movies once to watch the latest disney movie. Spencer really had to keep himself from pointing out the inaccuracies to not spoil (Y/N)’s fun.

Now the father debates taking the call. He doesn’t want to leave his daughter alone while the TV is on, but also doesn’t want to talk about a case right in front of her. The option of turning the TV off is also from the table, because this would be just plain mean.

So he answers it, afraid that the voicemail will turn on. “Hey Morgan, wait a second, I’ll have to leave the room”, then he puts his hand over the speaker and turns to the toddler. “Sweetheart, I have to talk to your Uncle Derek real quick. I’ll be right back.” She nods and goes back to her cartoon.

But while her father is in the room next door, the audio gets awfully quiet. Frustrated, because she isn’t able to understand properly what they are saying, (Y/N) looks for the remote. And there it is, waiting patiently for her and her little toddler hands.

But instead of turning the volume up, she accidentally changes the channel to an old cop movie. Curious about what is happening on the screen, the girl leaves it on for a few seconds. Upon entering a room, another man greets him with his middle finger raised. (Y/N) looks at her own and tries to copy that movement. On the third try she kind of gets it.

Getting bored of not knowing what the plot of the movie is, she turns it back on the cartoon she watched earlier and settles back down on her little chair next to the table full of books (Spencer put it there to avoid her sitting too close to the TV and straining her eyes while watching her shows, the distance is perfectly measured).

Just as (Y/N) sits down Spencer re-enters the living room, feeling relieved because he was able to help his team. “Hey Sweetie, is everything alright?” Happily she nods, showing him the bird.

Spencer’s face? Just imagine the shook Pikachu. “(Y/N)! You don’t do that! This is really mean!” He tells her in a stern voice. Where did she learn that from? He doesn’t know it, but the genius is almost a 100% sure she saw someone on the street doing it, (Y/N) always was quick to pick things like these up.

The toddler looks at him with a sad face, close to tears. “I-i-i didn’t know. I’m sor-sorry”, she says, beginning to cry. Oh no, this is not what Spencer was aiming for. “No no no, don’t cry. It’s alright. I’m not mad at you. You just don’t do this, people can get really hurt by your gesture.”

After calming her down, he thinks of something they can do outside of their apartment, to forget the little incident. “Do you wanna go to the office with me? All your aunts and uncles are going to get there soon and maybe we can go eat dinner with them?” Excited by the thought of seeing her family, (Y/N) nods and jumps up to get her own little go bag.

It’s a bright pre-packed backpack with small coloring books, normal books, pencils and other knick knacks she might need when she goes out with her father. The only thing that they have to put in is her favorite stuffed animal of the day. They call it like Spencer’s work bag, because the toddler once overheard the word at the office and refused to call it something different than his.

“Hey, look at who decided to give us a little visit!” Penelope exclaims as soon as the team leaves the elevator. (Y/N) tries to keep up with her preppy step, desperately holding onto her hand to not lose her.

As they finally come to a halt in front of everybody, the little girl smiles sweetly at them. “Hi”, she says in the most adorable voice. But instead of doing her usual wave, she raises her small hand with her middle finger standing out.

You just hear a faint “NOO!” and a crashing noise before Spencer comes along in a jog. He scoops his daughter up, looking her into the eyes. He takes a few steps away from where the team is standing.

“(Y/N), what did we say about this gesture”, he asks her in a serious tone. Instantly tears start to form in her eyes again, but Spencer knows he has to be strong now. “(Y/N), you have to stop doing it. It can really hurt people. Do you remember when Jason made fun of the braids Auntie Penelope put your hair in?” She nods.

Meanwhile the team stands awkwardly in the background, not knowing what to do. They never really witnessed the genius reprimanding his daughter in front of them. Though it’s not directly in front them.

“You were hurt by his words. The same is with the gesture you just made. We don’t do this to people, we don’t want to make them feel bad. Now, I don’t want to punish you, because you didn’t really know the meaning. Just apologize to your Aunties and Uncles. Next time you do it, there will be a hard no on TV for a week.”

Quickly wiping her eyes, the toddler mutters a small “Ok Daddy.” Spencer’s heart hurts a little at that, but he needed to be stern in this one.

She wiggles out of his grasp and slowly makes her way over to the others. (Y/N) gives each of them a hug, apologizing individually to them.

“So, who wants to see the new pictures of Sergio I got on my desk?” Emily asks in a cheerful tone to break the awkward tension. Immediately the girl takes upon that offer and bounces off to the desk with her godmother in tow.

Spencer still stands near the elevator, watching the interaction going down through the glass doors. Hotch pats him on the shoulder. “I know it’s difficult to be mad at them or strict even, but you did the right thing”, he reassures him briefly before making his way to his office. The genius smiles, as a parent you seldom get encouraging words about how you raise your child. It kind of feels like walking down a path with closed eyes. But on both sides are deep rivers with piranhas in them.

Derek takes a place beside his best friend. “You know, as serious as this is, it’s also as funny. I mean how she just smiled sweetly as a cupcake and deadass pulled her middle finger up like nobody’s business? My man, in your case I would keep a close eye on her during (Y/N)’s teen years.” Both laugh at the bizarre situation.

But luckily the toddler learned her lesson from this and stopped showing people the bird as a greeting. This is until she learns the next inappropriate thing, she should rather not do.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[itgirlification]

supermodel | jjk

the last three months have been hell for you, but Jungkook seemed to be living his best life.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: explicit mentions of body image and insecurities, infidelity, anal sex, oral (male receive), foul language (kinda), etc.

now playing: supermodel by sza

part two part three

Exactly three months ago, your and Jungkook’s 2 years relationship officially ended. Unofficially, it ended about 5 months ago. And for about one month now, Jungkook’s been seeing someone else.

Your heart and mind told you not to do it but you couldn’t help calculating. Three months ago, you were still dating, two months later, he started dating someone else. That must mean he’s known her for a while. Did he cheat on you with her? Well, it’s not like it matters now anyway, does it?

Her name was Yuki, an undeniable Japanese beauty. You were still in college, studying music and she was a famous model who appeared in internationally known magazines. You assumed she met Jungkook during a photoshoot since he was a professional photographer who often worked for companies like Vogue and Playboy. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her.

It wasn’t the fact that he moved on so quickly that hurt you the most. It was the fact that he knew all about your low self-esteem and how you lack confidence. Especially about your body. And he still went and dated a model, of all professions in the world. He was definitely over you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he did it on purpose. But thankfully, you knew better, he looked too happy for that to be even considered. He forgot about you.

You’re making yourself sadder by remembering all the times he assured you you were beautiful and your body was nothing to be ashamed of. The times he let his fingertips run over the lines of your stretch marks, whispering in your ear how much he loved them and how they reminded him of Tiger stripes. The times he caressed your jiggly thighs and told you how sexy he thought they were.

Then your mind would drift back to the phone in your hand, the Instagram page of Yuki Sakurai opened, careful not to accidentally like anything and expose yourself. Not that she’d notice anyway, she had 3.7 million followers, while you had a private one with 500 followers and no posts, and she gets around 300 to 700 thousand likes on each post, depending on whether she posts random photos or pretty pictures of herself. Or newly, your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Oh, how crazy everybody goes whenever she posts him. People love them together. You couldn’t blame them. Two attractive people? Of course, they’re gonna look great together.

Fucking great.

That the end of your relationship with Jungkook would look like this was semi-predictable from the beginning. He did admit to you that he never thought he’d date someone that looked like you when you first dated. And your heart broke a little. But he also made up for it in those two years, it was a beautiful relationship nonetheless.

While you weren’t exactly his ‘ideal’ type, he was definitely yours. You always heard from other women ‘when in a relationship, the man always has to love the woman more than she loves him. Otherwise, it won’t work.’ You never really got the saying until your breakup with Jungkook happened. It was the fact that you clearly loved Jungkook more than he loved you that lead to this.

“Oh my goodness!”, your roommate, Jane, dramatically exclaimed. “Will you stop feeling bad for yourself and do something? That’s not what hot girls do, sis.”

Jane was a lovely girl with a not so lovely temper. She always means well and you got along perfectly as soon as you met. Which was around 3 and a half years ago.

She looked over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. You obviously didn’t want her to see you snooping around your ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend’s Instagram but it was too late.

“Seriously, yn?”, she took your phone in her hand and threw it on the bed. “Let’s go somewhere, you can’t do this to yourself anymore. I’m not letting you.”

Jane was clearly worried about you at this point. The only thing you did these last few weeks was eating, shower, cry, sleep and miss a whole bunch of classes. This wasn’t good at all.

“Where?”, your question was short.

“To the mall? Or the nail studio? Anything that’ll get you out of this fucking dormitory.”, Jane sighed, pulling the blanket off of you, making you whine a little. “C’mon, go put on some cute outfit and we’ll go.”

You felt bad since she was trying hard to make you feel better. But it didn’t really work.

You nodded, standing up from the bed, nonetheless. You picked out a cute two-piece dress, that brought back blurred memories of the time you went on a date with Jungkook, wearing the same two-piece. Bet Yuki would look cuter in this...

‘Shut your petty ass up, yn. It’s embarrassing, the way you’re stuck on a taken guy who wants nothing to do with you’

You wish you could change the way you think, even if it’s just for an hour or two. You wish you would stop imagining Jungkook judging you when he saw you naked or when you told him that you wished you could cut off some of your fat with a pair of scissors.

You were beyond ashamed of yourself. Why wasn’t it easy for you to just stay by yourself? why were you so desperately in need of Jungkook by your side to the point where you’d lock yourself in your room for a month just because he isn’t there?

You needed Jungkook. You became so attached to him in those two years, because you always saw him as a permanent, a forever. Not just a temporary, not just a distant memory. You already saw him as the father of your children, as the man you’re gonna marry.

You were so blinded by the fact that you had him, that you forgot you could lose him anytime.

“I’m done, let’s go.”, unenthusiastically, you announced to Jane, who was already waiting for you.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”, In contrast to your spirit, hers seemed to be all roses and daisies. “Lord knows you need it...”

__________

“Look at this cute ass skirt, girl”, Jane pointed at a chic, wine mini skirt she was holding. “You know, when I saw it back there I wanted to have it, but it’d look so much better on you”

You took a few seconds to admire Jane’s beauty. She was about 3 cm taller than you, had a great posture, and almond, dark brown eyes that suited her dark skin tone perfectly. Her body leaned more towards the slimmer side.

“Shut up! No, it would not”, you let out a small giggle. “It would look gorgeous on you, buy it.”

She smiled a little at your laughs. She was happy to see you at least a little cheerful again. “Yeah, but I think it’d look better on you. I’m entitled to my own opinion, am I not?”

You knew this debate was gonna go back and forth, because of her stubbornness. “Let’s both buy the skirt.”

You ended up doing so, added by a bunch of bags full of clothing. This may’ve turned into your new coping mechanism. Who needed therapy when you can go on a shopping spree?

Two hours were spent in boutiques and clothing stores and Jane decided she was tired, wanting to visit the local spa.

“No, seriously, these Riverdale seasons just keep on getting worse and worse. Netflix needs to step up their game ASAP”, Jane ranted, making you laugh at how serious she takes it. “It’s getting embarrassing. I’m being for real.”

The two of you were sitting in the whirlpool at the spa, relaxing your whole bodies a little.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I don’t watch these new Netflix shows anyways. Been stuck on the vampire diaries for the last 7 years”, you chuckled, knowing you hated trying new things. “Can you pass me one of those magazines?”

Jane nodded, grabbing a random one from the table next to her and handed it to you, without looking at it.

The cover of it caught your eyes immediately. How could it not, when your ex’s new girl looks absolutely dazzling on the front page of it.

‘Supermodel Yuki Sakurai talks summer fashion tips, struggle with self-love and most importantly, her hot, new boyfriend the media is going crazy over’ was the headline of the Harper’s Bazaar Magazine cover.

You felt your stomach getting sick and your breath getting heavier, but you still flipped the pages until you found the one with her interview. You began reading it, skipping the boring parts.

‘Int: so, we see you have a new boyfriend. Tell us, how did you guys meet?

Yuki: Yeah, he’s an amazing guy. We actually met about six or five months ago at one of my photoshoots, since he’s a photographer and we exchanged numbers and stuff, and then we made it official mid last month.’

About six or five months ago? You were with him back then, but her answer was too unclear to find out if he cheated or not.

“Woah, yn, you okay?”

You entirely forgot about the fact that you were with Jane, let alone somewhere other than your bed.

Before you could react, Jane snatched the magazine out of your hand.

“You really can’t escape them, huh?”, She sighs, taking you in her arm. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. In a few months, you’re gonna look back to this and think wow I really was stuck on a guy who’s scared of microwaves and cried like a bitch when Iron Man died.”

You laughed, punching her arm playfully. “You know, I actually love these things about him. Shows his sensitivity and the way he perceives things.”

Jane looked at you as if she didn’t believe you were actually saying that stuff. “Girl, you’re overanalyzing this. Let’s just throw this shit in the trash, okay?”

She put the magazine aside.

“I just don't know what I did wrong.”, You murmured. “I know we weren't the best, but we didn't even fight that much. We could’ve talked it through.”

Jane pursed her lips and cooed. “You know, relationships are complicated sometimes. The reason why he broke up, to begin with, is probably not your fault.”

“Well, what if it is? I mean what if I was too fat or too ugly for him?”, you asked. “If he wanted a skinny girl so bad, I could’ve lost weight for him, I don’t get it.”

Jane looked at you like you lost your mind entirely. “I can’t believe you just said that! Even if that was the reason, which it wasn’t, you shouldn’t make yourself suffer because of it. That’s his loss. You’re beyond gorgeous and you have an amazing body.”

“You’re just saying that.”, tears slowly started coming up in your eyes. “But the thing is Jungkook knows all about my insecurities. Why would he do that to me? I know he knows that I’m still not over him.”

You usually didn’t like crying in front of other people, but you didn’t really care at the moment, besides that was Jane. You trusted her with your life.

“Girl, men are trash, I can’t believe you’re crying over one right now, seriously.”, she wiped your tears and held your face between her hands. “You know, honestly, I’ve read so many articles about how models actually hate themselves and have like the lowest self-esteem so in conclusion, no matter how miserable you are, his new girl is even more miserable.”

You knew Jane didn’t mean it in a harmful way, but it sounded harsher than needed. “I don’t hate her, she probably doesn’t even know about me. I’m just really insecure. He upgraded from me. He’s dating a whole model now.”

The situation just felt like a deja vu of these last few weeks laying in your bed, even though you were at the spa with your friend. You were supposed to have fun, yet you didn’t feel like having any.

“Why would you feel insecure when all you’ve seen of her are Instagram posts and red carpet pictures? She’s supposed to look beautiful, it’s her job.”

To a certain extent, Jane was right, but that didn’t really help your situation, you still felt bad about yourself. You stayed silent.

“C’mon, this isn’t fun anymore. Let’s leave.”, Jane mumbled.

_______

it’s been two days since the incident at the spa and you felt a little bit better now.

Those days were spent reading the same three book series you’ve read your entire life, overthinking, hot Cheetos, Indian takeout, and Netflix. It really wasn’t as miserable as it sounded.

You were just taking a little rest before term break ends and you have to go back to the shithole college again.

Jane was using the time until college starts again, but in different ways than you were. She was planning on going to some frat party in an hour and forget about the world’ for a minute. Or till 4 in the morning, where she will most likely drunk call you and ask you for a ride back to the dorms, because the friends she went to the party with were shit-faced as well and were in no way capable of driving anywhere without the cops stopping them.

Going out partying on a Friday night was a Jane tradition. In the past, you’d sometimes go with her, but you mostly spent your time out with Jungkook doing something more fun than partying could ever be. Now you can’t do that anymore, but laying in bed is more ideal than a party for you at the moment.

“How do I look?”, Jane twirled around to show off her black cocktail dress. She looked beautiful.

“You look beautiful.”, you responded to her question. “Are you leaving now?”

“Hm”, she said, to which you nodded. “You sure you don’t wanna come with me? It’s gonna be really fun.”

You shook your head no.

“Alright”, she shrugged, making her way out of your bedroom. “But I told you, it’s gonna be fun.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll stay here, I have shit to do.”

“Yeah, right, like binge-watching the vampire diaries and taking 5-hour naps”, she said in a sarcastic tone. “Anyway, bye-bye, Vic’s already waiting for me in the car.”

Victoria was perhaps one of the most obnoxious people you know, yet she was too much of a nice person for you to talk shit about her. The voice of your intrusive thoughts couldn’t help but to, though.

“Alright, bye, take care and say hi to Vic from me.”

After Jane left, an hour went by like it was just a couple of minutes. You were starting to get real bored and decided to watch some regular tv in hopes to find something you enjoy. You ended up not finding anything fun, but you still watched it, because you didn’t have anything else to do.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang and you were suddenly worried. Either this is a serial killer or Jane forgot something.

But to your surprise, it was neither, but it was none other than

“Jungkook?”, truly, those were the only words you were able to mutter out at your shocked state. “What are you do-“

At the speed of light, you were interrupted by your ex-boyfriend pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t say a word.

You weren’t expecting him. Not knowing how you were supposed to feel at the moment, you just let it happen. You were sure your mental state couldn’t get any worse than that, no matter how this will affect you in the end.

“Is Jane home?”, for the first time in 3 months, you’re hearing his silky voice again.

Jungkook knew Jane always had some type of special hatred for him with her killing stares and her bitter comments. You didn’t notice either though.

He also knew she must hate him even more after your breakup. Or maybe she liked him more now since she was able to get rid of him without killing anyone.

“No”, your answer was short and it made a weight fall from Jungkook’s shoulders before he continued kissing you.

It wasn’t anything you haven’t done before, yet it felt like it’s been ages since it last happened. Your mind drifted to the thought of Jungkook and his model girlfriend. You were asking yourself what their sex life was like, if she was tighter than you or if she had stretch marks and scars.

Jungkook’s lips were moving south, giving your neck wet kisses, while you were wondering why he broke up with his model girlfriend. Or if he even did. You felt selfish for not caring.

Removing your clothes one by one, you were left in your underwear, while Jungkook only had his boxers on.

This body was yours. You knew it inside out. Where he liked to get touched and where he preferred not to. You knew him better than anyone else. You were sure.

You already moved to your bedroom, since Jungkook effortlessly carried you there. You were sat on his lap, facing him and your hands were in his messy hair. His hands were around your waist, he was slightly smiling into the kiss, as you started grinding on him. He loved how easy it was for him to turn you on. You were still his.

Cutting off the kiss, he looked you in the eyes, while his hand was on your cheek. “Say aah.”, he said.

You widened your mouth obediently, which was followed by him collecting as much saliva as he could in his mouth and spitting it into your mouth.

“Swallow.”, demanding, he spit on your face, his eyes become darker with every passing moment. You did as he said.

You looked at him with big eyes. He knew you loved it. You’ve always had a thing for him degrading and humiliating you during sex.

He started grinding on you almost desperately. You knew exactly what he wanted.

Getting out of his grip, you dropped to your knees and freed his hard dick from his drawers. You reached for it and started pumping it, and licking it. Your spit was leaking down his dick as you used it for lubrication. Then you started sucking on it, just the way you used to.

Jungkook’s groans and satisfied sighs were enough to make you even wetter than before. You enjoyed giving more than receiving.

Your mouth was wet and warm around him, giving him a feeling of familiarity. You lick over the tip a few times, then proceed to fully take him into your mouth.

The bulge in your throat could be seen and the way your eyes were tearing up a little wasn’t bothering you at all. You loved giving.

Jungkook started thrusting in and out of your warm, welcoming mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat multiple times.

“Fuck”, a throaty moan left Jungkook’s mouth, giving you hints that he was about to cum. And he did, releasing in your mouth before you swallowed it. “Shit, baby, that was so good.”

You felt your face heat up and a sheepish smile made its way to your face. Your throat was sore.

The two of you were on the bed again. To you, it felt like it was the times before your breakup again, when you’d purposely start an argument just for the makeup sex because Jungkook wasn’t giving you any anymore. It was like sex was the only thing to look forward to.

You felt attached to Jungkook to a point where it was dangerous. You weren’t okay when he wasn’t around. He affected every part of your life and God knew it wasn’t always a positive thing. Maybe it was the fact that he took your virginity. Maybe because he was your first boyfriend, the first guy that made you believe you were worthy of love and that someone was actually capable of loving you. One thing you knew was Jungkook had an expansive influence on your life.

While you were practically drowning in your own thoughts, Jungkook was busy taking off your underwear.

“You okay?”, Jungkook calmly asked you, looking at your riddled face.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay.”, you sounded distracted, Jungkook wasn’t sure about asking you what it is though. He didn’t feel like getting personal.

So he shrugged it off and started kissing you again, his dick was unsurprisingly hard again as he played with your tits. He drew lines over the stretch marks of your thighs and kissed them.

“Can I fuck your ass?”, Jungkook’s raspy, tired-sounding voice casually asked, to which you quickly nodded, knowing that Jungkook’s favorite position had always been anal. He was massaging and gripping your ass firmly.

“This is gonna hurt at first, but I promise it gets better.”, He warned calmly into your ear, while putting some lube on his dick and just went right into your ass, slowly thrusting so you don’t feel as much pain.

He was right, it did hurt a lot when he first put it in, but the pain just changed into pleasure in a matter of time and his slow-paced thrusts helped with the adjustment.

“Fuck, I missed this ass”, he practically growled into your ear, as he kept on thrusting in and out, steadily gripping your wide hips with his big, veiny hands. “It just doesn’t feel right when I’m inside her ass.”

You knew your confidence shouldn’t rely on Jungkook bringing his girlfriend down, but you couldn’t help but feel good about your body when he said that. It’s been a while since you felt even a tiny spark of confidence. You weren’t so fond of him mentioning her while he was inside of you.

Your soft moans rang through the whole room like sirens, while he watched your ass jiggle against his pelvis, thrusting in and out faster every second. He missed this.

You had always thought you were indecisive, but you knew exactly what you wanted. You just couldn’t have that, so you’d eventually have to settle for less.

Jungkook wasn’t to blame for it, you just couldn’t concede your shortcomings. The movie’s villain wasn’t always the real villain.

Your hands traveled to your pussy to make sure you’d orgasm as well, when you heard Jungkook’s breathing getting heavier and his thrusts getting gentler than before, indicating that he was gonna cum soon. You were certain he could make you cum with just anal, but you wanted to cum with him.

With furrowed eyebrows and drops of sweat dripping down his body, Jungkook looked down at your arched back. The whole scene was sticky, especially when Jungkook presses his upper body to your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and kissing the spot.

It was kinda odd, having sex with your ex-boyfriend you were crying over just a day ago. There was a certain intensity to it though. Like your long-lasting nostalgia was finally fulfilled.

You’ve realized you couldn’t imagine yourself being intimate with anybody else. Jungkook already knew your body, how it looked without the material protecting it, the strawberry skin, the slightly sagging breasts you swore you’d surgically remove once you had the chance to but didn’t. He knew where you liked being touched, he was the first one to even touch you in those places.

You were unsure what you’d do with yourself when he leaves.

Jungkook’s thrusts slowly started stopping and you too felt the familiar sensation in your stomach.

Suddenly, you two were nothing but desire, fear, and pleasure. And faster than you could process, you came together.

For minutes after your orgasm, you were just laying on the bed, thoughtless. Maybe a little regretful. Not you, but him.

You weren’t facing each other, but you could hear each other’s breathing. Your stomach was filled with something you’d describe as post-sex melancholia.

All of a sudden, Jungkook stood up from the bed, startling your resting self a little, but you decided to keep quiet, wanting to see what he was going to do.

He made his way to the door to leave what he thought was your sleeping body laying there. You couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Where are you going?”, your soft voice suddenly rang in his ears. “Don’t you wanna stay?”

He didn’t know how exactly to tell you. You’ve always been a gullible little girl, you were the type of girl to think fucking equals love. Little did you know that wasn’t the case at all.

“Yn.... you know I can’t”, Jungkook responded, you knew it wasn’t gonna be good when he said your name like that. “I got a girl at home and I don’t wanna mess shit up with her.”

There it was. Your suspicion was corroborated. He was still going out with the model and you were a certified home wrecker. Great.

You physically felt your heart breaking. “Bu- but why are you here then?”

You were incapable of being mad at him at the moment. It was your fault for letting him in, again. After breaking your trust and your heart.

“This was a mistake”, he declared, not looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry, yn...”

He’s moved past your room now, already at the exit of your dormitory. He was about to leave.

“You already ruined shit with her when you came here and fucked me.”, your voice was small, but your words were heard.

Without looking back, he left.

And you went back to your room, standing in the middle of it for a minute in silence before your brain fully processed what had happened and your tears started pouring.

[alluringjae]

queen of hearts - sjn

summary: for the first time, one of your star students hasn’t been fetched right after class. but when she finally does, you weren’t expecting such a fine man to be her father.

pairing: johnny x female reader

word count: 5.5k

genre: fluff, romance, comedy | ceo and single dad!johnny + ballerina!reader + modern day!au

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, johnny being an overthinker, sexual innuendos (ten saying dilf hehe), slight explicit language, technical terms of ballet, a mini reference to mean girls

author’s note: sooo i came in touch with my former dance life, which led me to write this. there are links for the variations i used; their names are underlined when they’re mentioned. i am going to get technical with ballet terms here (even when my ballet knowledge decreased), so to any dancers reading, i really did my best, so please don’t come for me or do correct me for any mistakes.

although one character and her dance background, plus the name of the setting, are real, everything else about it is still a work of fiction.

i miss dancing, no cap.

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Ballet student and teacher by day, a soloist of the Korean National Ballet at night.

This was your daily routine, and it wasn’t the typical 8-5. But it’s debatable whether or not it was worse, because you’re always going overtime. That’s the thing when you’re an overachiever. Nonetheless, you loved what you do. It’s the lifestyle you gradually built since your preschool days.

Mornings on the weekdays were mostly vacant since all the kids were still in school. You’d start at 10 am for a warm-up class for the company. Before you delved into teaching and assisting, you’d train right after your lunch break. Partnering class, en pointe class, 1-on-1 sessions with choreographers, self-practice, then the company night class, that’s the organization of your week.

Now adding the teacher title, you mostly handled kindergartners to 5th graders in the academy aspect of the company. Your first teaching class would start at 1 pm. It’s when the younger students who finished their morning classes zoom into your assigned dance studio. One class would last an hour and a half, then you have a 30-minute break in between another class with the older kids. Their lesson repertoire was more strenuous due to the added across-the-floor lessons and jumps. Water was always your best friend, water refilling stations located everywhere in the company building.

You wouldn’t say you’re a strict teacher, but you weren’t shy to correct anyone from wherever you stood. You’d lightly align their arms or back properly so your students were working on the correct body parts. Compared to the other teachers, a lot of students enjoyed your kind yet frank approaches. Your former students, who’ve already gone to the higher levels, missed your lively presence and wished repeatedly that they want you back as their teacher.

“Teacher (Y/N), I miss you so much! Teacher Ten is so intense. I get the jitters especially when we’re en pointe on the floor.”

“Teacher (Y/N), Teacher Sicheng and Teacher Seulgi scare the heck out of me during partnering class. Especially when I tried to lift my partner, I keep losing focus because of Teacher Sicheng’s never-ending comments!”

Not to be sadistic, but you’d simply laugh at their minuscule complaints. Even if they’re struggling in the academy, those comments were directed to fix their techniques if they wanted to breakthrough.

“Kids, you’re going to be fine! They wouldn’t say or do those things just because they wanted to. They’re here to push you to the next level, like how I used to do with you. It’s a cut-throat industry after all.”

This was always your reply, bittersweet and truthful. Not everyone makes it, unfortunately, so if you’re really striving, you’d do whatever it takes. Throughout your career, you’re relatively impressed with how far you’ve come.

Trainee at 17, Corps de Ballet at 18, Demi-Soloist at 21, and Soloist at 23.

You’ve been a soloist for 4 years. The final stage, which was to become a principal dancer, is your running goal. Becoming a soloist was praiseworthy enough because you’ve seen so many give up in the Corps, but claiming a spot as a principal dancer has been the ultimate dream. Since you’ve watched Swan Lake for the first time at 4 years old with your parents, that’s where you found a passion for dancing and the stage. Here you are years later, practicing numerous variations daily, performing in opera houses, and mentoring all these gifted kids.

Your last class with elementary kids, which began around 5 pm, reached its end once all the students curtsied in front of you and scurried to their mothers or their nannies. The remaining plan on your agenda today was the company class at 7:30 pm, which exceeds the average hour and a half. It’s worse during show season. There have been times everyone went beyond midnight to polish every scene from head to toe.

Currently, there’s no upcoming show for the public, though the annual summer recital for the students was around the corner. Selected members of the company were chosen to perform individually in it, which was both exciting and intense. It’s also because it’s an evaluation on whether you’d get promoted in status or staying put. You’ve partaken in 3 recitals in the past, two of which elevated you from the corps and demi-soloist ranks. The recent one, however, didn’t change your soloist ranking.

It was a major first in your career in ballet, and after finding out the result of the latter, it emotionally pained you. Recalling how much soul you put into that piece, the rejection from your artistic director clenched your heart. Though in time, you moved on from it and viewed it as a stepping stone. Also, Sicheng and Ten personally stormed your apartment to pull yourself together with wine and pizza after going on a short leave.

Since you were trainees, Sicheng and Ten were your best friends in and outside the company. Working daily to occasional barhopping, that’s your youth summed up. It wasn’t because you didn’t like the girls you’ve worked with (though a lot of them were fake and bitchy), but these two were frank and humorous as hell. Together, you’d help each other with your goals rather than be competitive. Over time, Ten leveled up to a principal dancer for 2 years running while you and Sicheng were still soloists. The way you’d watch Ten take all the big roles, that’s where you want to be one day.

Back in your last teaching class, the entire dance room was vacant. Since it’s mainly used for ballet classes, you’d either run through anything you’ve practiced from the company classes and polish it or warm up a little bit more.

Except for today, this was the only free time to sew a new pair of pointe shoes because your current ones were dead. Dead in a sense that the hard shell turned soft, which won’t be able to support you when you’re up on your toes. You’re not taking any risks of minor injuries especially when you’re in the current lineup of company members performing for this upcoming recital again. You have to prove to everyone that you deserve a position as a principal dancer.

As your legs sprawled in a half middle split, your sewing equipment laid in front of you like you’re about to perform surgery, a tiny girl stood by the ajar studio doors. In her neat bun and holding on to her small duffel bag, you’re convinced everyone has gone home already since it’s quite late.

You may have your priorities as a company member, but she was still your student.

“Minji!” You shouted her name, speedily waving your hand. You’re not one to have favorites, though you couldn’t help wonder how extraordinary she was. She’s always taking charge in demonstrating the lessons to everyone and improving every session in the 3 years she’s joined the academy. “Come in! Come in!”

At age 7, she’s gotten taller through the years, above the average from how you see it. She must have amazing genetics. Her legs sauntered in seconds to you. Sitting down across you, she marveled at your setup. Specifically, at the fresh pointe shoes.

“Are those yours, Teacher (Y/N)?” She perked up, caressing its soft fabric and playing with the mini bows of the drawstrings.

“Yes, it is, Minji!” You answered while trying to insert the thin thread through the small eye of the needle. “Why are you still here? Is your nanny stuck in traffic or something?”

“My nanny went on sudden leave, so my dad’s the one fetching me. But I think he’s running late from his job.”

Oh, this was a first to know about her father. In all the years she’s been your student, you rarely caught sight of him, even in recitals. Maybe he sat in an unknown section, but you’re pretty much acquainted with all the parents of your students. Even if some were snobbier than the rest because they wanted their child to have more stage time, you still got to know them out of respect. Quite odd, if you said so yourself.

After deep concentration, the thread triumphantly passed through the eye so you tied the two ends of the thread in a double knot. Seeing as Minji attentively watched you, you tasked her to cut the ribbons of your shoes according to the trail of pencil marks. This was so she wouldn’t cut it too short or too long. While she did that, you hammered your shoes against the floor to soften the hard front, bending the shank back and forth so the arch of your feet could move without difficulty later.

Minji wasn’t expecting such loud sounds, her entire body shaken awake. Her facial expression was priceless, explaining to her, “Once you get your first pointe shoes in a few years, this is one of the basic things you need to do so your feet won’t hurt too much while dancing.”

“Will you be there to teach me how to make my pointe shoes?”

“Absolutely! Come to me first then I’ll mentor you all that I know.”

The process of sewing and breaking new pointe shoes engraved your mind since your adolescent years, with changes along the way. Inspired by some tricks from your former teachers, but there were some differing rituals you followed. There’s no definite process of it, just as long you’re comfortable to dance after.

With your feet, you stepped on the hard boxes of the shoes to soften it more, creating a popping sound. Followed by sewing your elastic bands in. For your ribbons, you liked to burn the edges with a lighter so the thread of it won’t run. Kindly asking your cute assistant for the lighter beside her, you scanned the edges back and forth the flame. In seconds, the edges had a distinct mark, fully closed. From there, you slid your feet to your shoes to make final sewing adjustments. Sewing your ribbons took you another few minutes, plus adding superglue inside the shoe so the shoe won’t collapse when it unstiffens and scratching the shank with a cutter so you won’t slip later while dancing.

Voila, the final product is done! Hopefully, it can last you a week at least.

“Wow, Teacher (Y/N), it looks pretty!” Minji applauded, collecting the mess you’ve both made to dispose of later. You, on the other hand, gave her your thanks once you applied some bandages on your big toes and put on your toe pads. Slipping inside the shoes and tying them, you rose up back to your feet and headed to the bar to break them in. From plies-relevésto forced arches, the shoes gave you the sensation that they were an extension of your feet. The ease flowed through, meaning you were ready to practice your variations.

While you stepped your shoes in rosin for friction, your curious student moved to the front where the mirror lied to watch what you’ve prepared.

“What variation are you dancing to?”

“This is the Gamzatti variation from La Bayadere.” You replied, tapping the play button on your phone and racing to your position on the side. Talking a short ballet walk, you strongly prepared your arms before the music of the orchestra takes off.

This variation consisted of a lot of jumps and turns. Grand jetés, attitude turns, chaîné turns, you needed a lot of core control and proper spotting so you won’t get dizzy. The thrilling music lessened your nerves because you enjoyed learning this piece from one of the principal dancers, smiling and letting the music guide your legs. Once you nailed 3 consecutive grand jetés, the variation ended with a sus-sous and the wrists of your hands flicking upwards.

Holding it for 5 more seconds, you landed back on your feet with heavy breathing and a need for water. But before you could, small claps and cheers from Minji in front erupted. Momentarily, you’ve forgotten her presence because dancing solo puts you in your own space. You’d never let anyone take you away from it.

“Teacher (Y/N), that was wonderful! Are you performing that in the summer recital?”

Yikes, she’s right but she wasn’t meant to see it yet. Solo performances from the company members for the recital were top secret, only unveiled during the production rehearsal. Well, you didn’t think this through, but you didn’t mind.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Time ticked a lot faster today, only 10 minutes left until the company class on the ground floor whereas you were in the second. Just a few steps down the stairs away, yet Minji was still here. You only presumed that within your hour break, her father could’ve made it already. But maybe he’s stuck in traffic or at work.

“Minji, my class starts soon. Have you contacted your father?”

“I already texted him earlier, but he hasn’t responded. This happens often, he’s a busy man.” She bowed in front of you suddenly. “I’m sorry, Teacher (Y/N) for the hassle.”

“Oh no, please!” You shook your hands so she’d stop. Because this situation was relatively new, you were unsure of how to handle it. Or that was until you remembered what Ten texted you earlier. “Minji, the blinds of the main studio are going to be lifted so anyone from the outside can view us practicing. Would you like to watch until your dad gets here?”

With her insistent nodding, she situated herself in one of the seats in the front row. When you entered the main studio, your two close companions already carried a metal barre to the center and leaned towards it while observing you walking to them in your flat shoes.

“I see we have a bit of an audience here.” Ten glimpsed at the young girl, astonished by the many dancers prepping and chatting away with their cliques from the glass barrier.

“Her dad isn’t here yet, and you did say the blinds were up today. Might as well give her a show while she waits, you know.” You lifted your right leg to the top barre, stretching it with your arms.

“Hmmm, shouldn’t her dad be more cautious though? It’s getting late and it’s a Thursday. Doesn’t she have school or something?” Sicheng pointed out, discarding his muscle tee to straighten out his leotard.

“That’s not my business though. She’s just my student, and since she’s still here, I have to entertain her while she waits.”

Before your friends said anything back, the artistic director of the ballet company strutted her way to the center of the room. It’s a common rule here that once she entered, everyone must be silent to listen and race to any free spot in the numerous barres spread out if they haven’t.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll do the typical barre, then before doing across the floor exercises, I’ll be requesting those performing solos already in the recital to dance any variation tonight as another evaluation on who deserves to perform twice.” She eyed the pianist directly beside her. “Proceed first with two demi-pliés then one grand plié. Don’t forget to do the port de bras of each position.”

As the live piano music played, your focus was divided. Partly properly executing the exercise while your artistic director roamed each barre area, partly thinking about what variation to perform. This was a first for the company, and everyone was just stunned to hear the breaking news. It’d be nice to get an extra opportunity to showcase to people your potential.

30-40 minutes flew by quickly. As the guys carried the bars to the side to clear out the floor and the girls changed to their pointe shoes, the artistic director ordered all the performers of the recitals to stand in a line in front of her. Everyone else was seated around the room, so the interested eyes of everyone were on you. There were 10 performers, half are from the corps and the other half are either demi-soloists or soloists. You and Sicheng stood beside each other, internally shaking with nerves under the intimidating eyes of the artistic director. She used to be a principal dancer for the Stuttgart Ballet in Germany before moving back to Seoul, making her undeniably capable of leading all of you.

“Okay,” From her seated position observing the 10 performers, her finger pointed at you directly. “Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), you perform first.”

Your nerves intensified and more sweat streamed out your upper body. Even if going first felt more relieving, no one was ever brave enough to perform individually in front of the esteemed artistic director. Principal dancers aside from Ten that you’re close with were intimidated when they have 1-on-1 or partnering sessions with her. But anyhow, in less than 2 minutes, you’d be done. This wasn’t the first time she’s had your full attention either, so you’ll treat it like the other individual performances you’ve had.

You smiled to yourself when the other soloists left you alone, while you gave the name of the variation you’re dancing to the pianist. Running to the side to put on a practice tutu, the artistic director asked, “What will you be dancing for us tonight, (Y/N)?”

“I’ll be dancing Queen of the Dryads from Don Quixote.”

The last time you did this variation was 3 years ago during the recital that didn’t change your position as a soloist. Even if this variation hurt to think about for a while, it was still one of your favorites to watch and do. Moving on, you could only muse how powerful and beautiful you felt at that time. This isn’t an easy piece to perform in your opinion. Yet according to the members of the company, this was their favorite solo of yours.

As the starting notes unfolded, you took a deep breath and elegantly walked into the frame. You only wished you wore your fake crown again for this. Minimal smiling and light arms, you imagined yourself as an actual queen who captured the eyes of many. In this case, your fellow seniors and juniors held their breaths at the captivating sight of you.

Off you go into a series of glissade jeté developpé on relevé at elevating heights, then a fouetté arabesque and another arabesque on relevé before ballet walking again to the side to dance across the stage. Sissonne to the front, right developpé to the front on relevé, pique to prepare for a single pirouette, you gracefully did a chassé to the front twice and stood on your toes with a sus-sous.

Doing it a few more times, the climax of the entire variation was nearing. Returning to the center, you took another deep breath and lifted your left leg for the Italian fouettés. Spotting to the front and back while maintaining your balance, the variation approached its end with lame duck turns, posing with your arms were positioned at a 45-degree angle, your back slightly arched and your left leg doing a tendu derriére. Your eyes reflected at the mirror in front, surveying your alignment. Once your 5-second hold was finished, you properly put your arms down and closed your back leg into 5th position.

The applause from everyone in the room roared, Ten and Sicheng wolf-whistling even for more support. It’s a usual thing every time any of you perform individually, and no one minded it. The artistic director grinned, giving a quiet clap from the front before calling out the next performer, who was from the corps. Bowing to everyone hastily, you paid more attention to spot your student by the window. She was smiling ear to ear, waving both hands at you.

“You did amazing, Teacher!” She mouthed. Hearing words of praise from members was one thing, but hearing them from students was another. You’re so used to watching them and giving them your compliments that you often forget that you’re a dancer first before a teacher. Seeing them all delighted, saying that it motivates them more, showed that you’re doing a great job teaching them. You’re a reflection of what you pass down, and all you want was for them to be the best they could be.

From her jolly expression, a tall masculine silhouette hovered a part of the window. Her instinct of giving a brighter smile when the hand of said silhouette patted her head then carried her duffel bag again, that could only mean one thing. Excusing yourself to the artistic director, you stepped out to bid your goodbye and maybe meet her father. Minji and the tall man were about to leave the building if it weren’t for your breathy voice calling them out.

“Seo Minji and Mr. Seo?”

They stopped their tracks. Minji was fast to react, familiar with your voice and racing towards you for a sweaty hug. Meanwhile, your focus shifted once the masculine silhouette came into full view. You finally understood why Minji’s growth spurt spiked up, noticing that he was taller than Sicheng.

The top buttons of his shirt were off, yet he kept his formal blazer on. His hair was a bit tousled, some strands falling in front of his forehead. He must’ve run here. Peeking through were some roots of his scruff growing. His eyebags were almost as dark as his brown hair. Yet by the way his Rolex remained spotless, you blatantly assumed that he was more than well-off. Especially when the ballet academy was one of the most prestigious ones in Seoul.

Out of all the parents you’ve met, none of them appeared youthful like him.

“Teacher (Y/N)?” Thanks to Minji, you moved your staring eyes away from him. This was another first, since meeting only the fathers of your students wasn’t your norm. Meeting young-looking fathers, to be specific.

“O-Oh,” You ate your words, suddenly blanking out. “You’re leaving me without saying goodbye, Minji? Not polite of you.”

“My father was rushing right after watching your performance, and I don’t know why.” She responded, her finger scratching the top of her head in confusion. Speaking of said father, his strong presence appeared right in front of you. The wrinkles of his forehead creased while his eyes barely looked at yours.

“Uhm,” His fingers toyed with his Rolex. “I apologize for my tardiness. I got caught up in work and all, plus her nanny le-”

“Mr. Seo.” You halted his rambling, already aware of the situation. Like father, like daughter. “It’s fine. Minji loved watching us practice while waiting, and she wasn’t a bother either. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Phew.” He swiped an imaginative bead of sweat from his forehead, displaying his relief with his playful nature.

At age 23, Johnny Seo started his own company in the fashion scene and it grew internationally in the coming years. Then when Minji unexpectedly joined the picture, he’s been multi-tasking to make ends meet. Lately, as a CEO, he has had meetings and conferences on a daily. So, his position as a single father was always tested. It worsened when he rarely has proper time to spend any time with Minji unless it’s the weekend or late in the evening. Breaking it down, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to meet you. It was more like he couldn’t when his schedules were packed from head to toe.

Having the guilt of taking your precious time, “Seriously though, I am sorry for being late. Her nanny resigned suddenly, and I have no time to find her replacement.”

“Mr. Seo, again, don’t worry about it. As her teacher and a company member, I am practically here 24/7 so it won’t be a nuisance at all if this happens again.”

“Thank you so much, Teacher (Y/N). That is your name, right?” He planted his palm on his forehead, stressed. “Being a single parent is hard. I am always forgetting things.”

A part of you couldn’t restrain from feeling sorry for his struggle. Taking care of a child should be the work of both the mother and father, not one of them being absent. You’ve feared this would harm Minji, but she’s a strong girl.

“The fact you didn’t forget to fetch Minji despite the late time is still something to be happy over. I’m not a parent or anything, but parenting, in general, is a challenge.” You added an insight, patting the head of the young girl beside you. “Cut yourself some slack, Mr. Seo. I’m sure Minji still loves you, right?”

Minji shouted a big yes, now clinging to the leg of her father. “It’s okay, dad. Really.”

Over the years, Johnny has been doubtful of his parenting skills. He was an only child, and he struggled to ask for guidance from his own parents due to the shame of having a kid at a young age. So, he’d ask for help from his other friends and co-workers. No matter how many times they’ve reassured him that he’s doing well, he’s an overthinker who always reflected on the bad scenarios. There’s also that pressure to find someone who can fill that absent position not just for Minji, but for himself too. No matter how many girls he’s asked out or been set up with, he failed in the love department badly.

It’s the soothing way you voiced out your truth that made all these negative thoughts running through his head freeze briefly. Over the past 3 years since Minji started ballet, she always had a great story about you to share. One of them was how ballet made her a lot happier because of your influence. If he had at least an hour of his day to meet any of his daughter’s mentors, it would’ve been you.

“Do feel free to call me Johnny instead.” He casually introduced himself, taking his hand out for you to shake. “Mr. Seo makes me feel like I’m at work right now.”

Despite his informal approach, you understood his intentions and returned the action with a promising smile. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Johnny.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Teacher (Y/N).”

Earlier, the nerves from performing in front of the artistic director died down fast. But for some reason, they rose back up when you’ve spoken to this man in a matter of minutes. As someone whose feelings don’t flourish in a single glance, why did this man specifically deliver you such a strong effect?

If it weren’t for Ten calling for your name by the door, you would’ve held on to Johnny’s hand longer, which would’ve been inappropriate. Letting go first, this was your cue to return to your class.

“I must head back inside, Johnny. Don’t sweat on fetching your daughter late, though she is still a student with school the following day. Right, Minji?”

Minji nodded as Johnny kept that mind, knowing where he has to improve next.  “Yes, Teacher (Y/N). Thank you again, sincerely. I’ll definitely see you again in the coming days until Minji has a new nanny.”

“That’s no problem with me at all, Johnny.”

Soon as Johnny held his daughter’s hand to exit the studio and you were re-entering the studio with an impatient Ten, he swerved swiftly as if he forgot something.

“Oh by the way Teacher (Y/N), I saw your whole performance awhile ago. I was blown away, you deserved the applause.”

Although you could only distinguish his silhouette, you didn’t suppose he watched you from head to toe. Most parents or nannies would’ve dragged their kids out of the studio once they find them like they were on a tight schedule, so this was novel to experience. That performance showed your prime too.

“Thank you, Johnny. See you again soon.”

Giving a final nod, you led yourself back to the studio, not bothering to acknowledge the erupting heat on your cheeks and entire body. Not to sound narcissistic, but compliments weren’t foreign to you. You’re conscious of the hard work that you put in your talent and if they pointed out your greatness, why would you deny it? However, receiving one from Johnny was like gearing your engine with new fuel.

Before you could try to reject these harboring feelings, Ten was fast to pick up on it. You cannot hide anything from this man at all because body language was like another language he’s fluent in (aside from the other 5). Unlucky for you, the saga continued.

“You’re so into dilfs, (Y/N)!” He shrieked in your ear, nudging your shoulder repetitively. He placed things in his own way, yet they always shocked you because it was so inappropriate. Typical Ten for you.

“Shut up, Ten!” You objected, watching the other performers. You’ve improved in ignoring his remarks over time. That was until Sicheng sat down beside you after his solo and got up in your business. That placed you in the middle of boys from the water sign clan of astrology. They just loved getting down to your love life, going raunchy and whatnot.

“Who’s into dilfs, Ten?”

“A Miss (Y/N) beside you, who met Minji’s dad awhile ago, was basically eye-fucking him.” Ten elaborated, planting his elbows on your leg and gave you a sneaky glare. “Minji’s dad is fine as fuck, guys! I’m telling you, like a literal god! I’m surprised this is the first time he showed up here after 2-3 years?”

“How come (Y/N) is always getting students with good-looking parents? Especially the single moms.” Sicheng slumped his shoulders, attempting to get your attention too. “Is he that hot, (Y/N)?”

“Yah.” Sighing with annoyance, you’ve given up trying to appreciate one of the corps dancers with her rendition of Dulcinea from Don Quixote. “Don’t speak of Johnny like that. You barely know the man, yet you talk about him so unprofessionally."

“Oh, Johnny is his name, huh?” Sicheng sing-songed, bobbing his head. He’s certainly going to stalk him later on social media, you felt it in your chest. Like it was ESPN or something.

“Talking about being unprofessional, yet you’re here referring him as Johnny, not Mr. Seo.” Ten barked back, his lips pursed and one eyebrow lifted.

Just as soon as you could retaliate, the artistic director’s velvety voice boomed the room.

“Alright, thank you to the performers. I will deliberate with the staff and principal dancers over the weekend, and let you know the results on Monday. Now please, let’s proceed to the center.”

Everyone began to spread out on the wide floor, snatching a good position so they could monitor themselves in the mirror. Maybe you’ll defend yourself later after class because now, you needed to beat everyone else and have a crystal-clear view of yourself doing these following exercises.

In the meantime, Johnny was in the middle of driving Minji home. He had a designated chauffeur, but he gave him the night off because he wanted to spend time with Minji. Around this time, she’d be sleeping soundly, but instead, she’s boosting with so much life. She hasn’t even eaten dinner yet, which was the first thing on Johnny’s agenda now.

Playing Coldplay in the car, Minji belted some lyrics from her favorite songs while Johnny smiled to himself while listening to her attentively. Taking a breath, her thoughts reverted to her fantastic ballet teacher and shared them with her father.

“Dad! Don’t you just think Teacher (Y/N) is so cool? Ugh, I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

“Oh, to become a ballerina like her, you have to work hard every day and memorize lessons fast. Are you up for it, Minji?”

“Absolutely, dad! I want to pull off perfect jumps and turns like her one day!”

In the other after-school activities Johnny enrolled Minji in the past, none of them compared to the passion she had for ballet. Her work ethic was alike to Johnny’s: if they want something, they’ll do whatever it takes to make it possible.

Aside from being a star student in her school, she’s aiming to be a star ballerina. Being the supportive father he is, Johnny was on board to do what it takes to make it happen. Unlike his parents trying to mold him into the next heir of their company, he’s all ears to the dreams of his daughter. His only dream for her was to be live long and happy, not to merely pass on anything.

Johnny lost so much in his young life, so he doesn’t want to lose Minji in any way. As much as he loves his profession, he wanted to be an active father as much as time allowed it. He mostly received complaints from others that he’s not prioritizing his time well, but after hearing your kind words, this heavy weight on his shoulders decreased. All this doubt started to vanish after meeting you for the first time.

“Dad! Isn’t Teacher (Y/N) so beautiful?” Minji honored whilst gazing at the twinkling night sky. “She loves what she does and shines at it.”

Johnny was accustomed to his female co-workers throwing themselves at him due to his attractiveness, more than flattered even to have them feeling weak for him. Yes, there were times he used it to his advantage, some he frankly turned down. 

However, the radiance you carried whether you’re dancing or not was something Johnny couldn’t cease wondering about. Unknown to him, he’s the one getting weak. Behold, an unlocked first for the confident CEO.

“Yes, Minji. I do think Teacher (Y/N) is absolutely beautiful.”

[achillieus]

we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one. 

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, mentions of depression, angst, bucky is a cocky bitch, but bucky also needs a hug

(other parts)  (masterlist)

part 1/3:

It’s December, his sophomore year of college and Bucky’s watching you again. From afar, always from afar. He’s scared if he goes near, something will give him away and you’ll laugh at him. He doesn’t remember when his fixation started but he’s certain it’ll pass. A load of girls on campus like him. Sometimes he thinks he likes some of them back. But not you. Bucky doesn’t like you. He’s beyond you. (Actually, you’re beyond him. He would never admit that.)  He watches you and notices how your fringe has grown the last few weeks and how a few strands are falling down your eyes. You brush them away and keep writing your essay. He decides it’d be better if he started writing his too. You’re a year younger but he knows you’ll probably get a higher score than him anyway. You’re good with words, he has noticed.

-

It’s March, your freshman year and you breathe out. You’re leaving the library, arms wrapped around books about Hamlet and Shakespeare, when you see him. Lately he seems to be everywhere you are. It’s getting annoying. You promise yourself you won’t stare at him again, but you cheat a few times. He’s wearing one of his overpriced shirts and he smiles at a sophomore girl. You know Bucky Barnes. You’d known him even if you didn’t want to. Because everybody does. Because that’s who he is. Everything you dislike about the world distilled into one label-whoring, conceited, 5′11″ tall boy. And everybody seems to be smitten with him.

He comes to you first.

“It’s destiny, Y/N,” he says, a smug look on his face, “third time I bump into you today.”

You tense. This is new. Usually, you don’t talk to each other if not for arguing in Romance Literature class. It’s one of the two classes you share.

“I must be very lucky.” Bucky chuckles and it’s somewhat engaging because he hasn’t given you a smile since the first day you met him.

“Admission office is on the left, doll”.

You had thought he was nice then. And beautiful. God, he was so beautiful. Please, he’s not. He’s an arrogant smartass. And now he’s standing here and for some seconds he laughs and you can see the dimples in his cheeks. You blink.

His light eyes divert to the books you’re holding.

“Try not to have too much fun.”

He mocks and walks away.

-

It’s July, end of sophomore year and Bucky joins a summer book club. (He doesn’t tell anyone. He enjoys his facade.) Every morning he grabs an iced latte and a butter croissant and he goes to the meetings. He reads a lot. And he loves it. It helps him feel. It’s a getaway. Bucky always stands proud and tall, trying to hide how easily he can be torn.

Running one finger along the starched collar of his shirt, he reads quietly and he considers the ever-changing art of literature; words and metaphors that allow him to imagine entire worlds and fathom his own sensitivities. He almost feels vulnerable. He decides that reading together with another person is an intimate act and he’s thankful he doesn’t really have any interest in anyone in the club.

But then it’s Monday and his teenage dream walks in, hair falling gracefully your shoulders, Gone with The Wind in your left hand. And it could have been the sun gleaming through the windows, but Bucky swears his whole being flickers. In a way or another he always responds to your presence.

You sit two rows behind of him and when he involuntary turns to you, you look surprised and yet you smile.

He tries to avoid you and he’s good at it, until someone decides it’d be fun to present the next book in groups. You’re the only two without a friend there and you end up paired together.

“I don’t like this.” he says.

“Oh, I know.” you whisper.

You spend an evening in his dorm, discussing the author and the plot holes. At first, he talks a lot, trying to impress you. But then he lays on his back, listening to the summer rain outside and you reading out loud. Regardless of what you feel for each other, he thinks it’s a beautiful sound.

Next morning, he buys two butter croissants instead of one.

-

It’s October, your sophomore year and you’re not exactly friends. Or enemies. Bucky has stopped teasing you and you think it’s because of your days in the book club. Actually, it’s because he’s dating Natasha Romanoff now and he promised he’d be kinder.

You realize sooner or later and you say it’s obvious you don’t care. (Who is it obvious to?) The girl is pretty, clever and vibrant and she’s a good person. You like her. You just can’t figure out what she sees in Bucky.

-

It’s January, his junior year and he’s not doing well. He knows it’s his fault (he always loved half-heartedly) and that makes the hurting worse. It’s guilt driven. He tries to get Nat back but she’s not ready. And it’s awful because nobody warned him and he didn’t know; it’s hard to feel lovable after a break up. He desperately needs a distraction. He pushes himself past his breaking point. Carves his grades into the back of his neck. Devours facts and theorems. Almost joins the football team for extra credit. But to be honest he’s never been that much into sports. Debate team, it is.

That’s where he truly learns to despise you. Who do you think you are? The proud jaw, those smart eyes, your feet planted on the ground as if the world’s wisdom belongs to you. You’re at your best while he’s at his lowest point.

He watches you and then he watches himself.

“Your last argument was weak,” you say, raising your eyebrows, “you should concentrate more.”

Bucky bites his lip in frustration.

“You’re not the boss around here.” He says, crossing his arms in his chest, “You may think you are, but you’re not.”

(Technically she is, Bucky. She’s the captain of the team.)

“Don’t start again.” You sigh. “I just want us to win next week.”

He rolls his eyes at you. He would never admit it out loud but a part of him is enjoying this. Feuding with Y/N feels natural. It reminds him of who he is.  And he feeds on that.

He takes a step towards you.

“Of course, so you can take all the credit.”

You just stare at him. Sometimes you don’t understand what Bucky is trying to prove. That he’s better? Or that you’re worse? You hate it. How quickly he can make you lose your temper.

(How quickly he can exhilarate you.)

“If you don’t like the team,” you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze, “you’re free to leave.”

Bucky laughs. This is how you are. This is how you will always be. Both strong, you just, him lost.

“You need me to win, Y/N,” he sets his shoulders back and smirks, “I’m good at this.” He remains close to you and refuses to look away. He can see you parting your lips for a second or two.

(Did he just glance at your lips?)

“I know you are,” you breath out and Bucky is incredulous, “so start acting like it.”

(Did you just compliment him?)

-

It’s the first day of February, your sophomore year and you think you’re losing your sanity. Bucky invites everyone at his dorm to celebrate their victory at the National Debate Championship. And it’s strange because Bucky never really invites anyone he doesn’t like. If you didn’t know him, you would have bet that he’s been feeling lonely.

You don’t want to go at first. But you’re glad you do. Under the green lights he has installed and all the alcohol in his body, he looks different and it’s the first time you genuinely see him. A boy with silky black hair, blue eyes and skin that looks like it’d be cool to touch. There’s something attractive about him, in a rugged way, and you’re seeing it again after a long time.

Your allergies must have gotten in your head.

He doesn’t talk a lot that night. Not to you. Not to anyone. You deduce pretty early that Bucky just wanted company to drink. You wonder if he’s still messed up because of the break up.

Probably. Everyone on campus is talking about how Natasha was hanging out with that boy, Clint.

He tells you, you don’t have to, but you still stay to help him clean up.

“Why are you doing this, Y/N?” His voice is low.

You started taking a new antihistamine, maybe it’s the side effects.

“It’s called being nice,” you say firmly, “you should try it.”

Bucky makes a little humming sound and keeps collecting plastic cups. The room is quiet, but for the sound of trash bags and you count the seconds before you speak again.

“How are you?”

“I’m not that drunk, don’t worry.” He half-answers, half laughs but he pronounces the last word with enough irony.

“No, I meant,” you breath, “Is everything okay with you?”

“Seriously, you make no sense Y/N.” He’s careful not to look at you.

“I just wanted to say,” your voice sways for a second, you’re a novice in talking with him about anything different than books and words and that makes you weak and nervous, “You’ll be back with Natasha, I’m sure.”

Bucky’s face hardens around the edges, his eyes saying more about him than any words could. He comes close to you and it could have been the smell of alcohol but you feel like you want to throw up.

“You and I, we’re not friends.”

You don’t blink. You stare blankly at him, waiting for what follows. But he just leaves the room.

You promise you will never go to any of his parties again.

...

feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)

[theoreticslut]

Summer Lovin’

pairing: fred weasley x reader

requested: no

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut

A/N: Hi. I hope this is good because i had the idea and just had to write it. Like i’ve mentioned before, I’ve written smut and steamy scenes before, but nothing that I’ve ever really posted and I truly have no idea what i’m doing so I just feel like it’s really bad. Like I’ve debated with myself for a week if  wanted to post this or not and finally decided to just go for it and see what happens with it. So, yeah, I hope you like it. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated (even if you want to send me your comments through an anon ask). Just let me know what’s good or what could be better, yeah? & also, just want to through it out there again that I am taking requests (check out my holiday prompt list) as well as doing a sleepover event for the next week or so in celebration of 300 followers <3 Take advantage of it! Xx

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @lauren2408 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @kaitlynw011 @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter @streetfighterrichie  @sarcasticallywitty15 @isthereanymorejello  

^let me know if you’d like to be added/removed! (& pls let me know if you’re 18+/comfortable with being tagged in smut) Xx

It had been a rough summer to say the least...at least in Fred’s opinion. He absolutely loved having you stay at the burrow, having been best friends with you since first year, but it truly was quite torturous at times.

He had long ago realized he had feelings for you, but pushed them away in fear of risking your friendship. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you as a friend, but godrick was it hard to keep pretending he wasn’t totally attracted and in love with you.

Watching you go around all summer in your tight, high-waisted shorts with your shirts tied into a knot to show your stomach was difficult to say the least. Even worse than that, seeing you in a bikini the handful of times you all went swimming.

You were beyond attractive and it was driving him mad seeing you in such minimal clothing.

The absolute worst outfit of yours to drive him insane, however, was your pajamas. Having known you were staying the entire summer at the burrow, you had many variations of pajamas, but they were all much too attractive to Fred.

He loved when you wore your short pajama shorts, usually landing just past your ass, along with a thin, baggy tee. He would never admit it to anyone, as he was much too embarrassed by it, but he couldn’t help but look at your chest when you wore a shirt like that for bed.

He knew you weren’t doing it for him by any means, but you never wore a bra to bed and you’d often cross your arms over your stomach when you’d encounter him. The action pushing your breasts up and into the thin fabric where he couldn’t help but imagine what your chest looked liked underneath. He nearly came in his pants the first few times he caught a glimpse of your hardened nipples through the shirt when it had been a bit of a cooler night.

Currently, he has locked himself in the bathroom away from his family as he has a major erection that won’t go away. He knows it’s not you’re fault, but you are certainly the reason behind this.

Having been one of the hotter days this summer, you had all decided you would spend the day swimming, which was fine, except for the fact that you wore a new bikini you must have gotten one of the days you had gone shopping with his sister and hermione.

It was absolutely stunning on you, but it created quite an issue for him. It was so tiny; covering your front, but essentially becoming a thong in the back. Not to mention it was extremely high cut, which elongated your already beautiful legs and accentuated the curves you had grown into magnificently. And then the top was literally just a strip of fabric, a bandeau he had heard you call it, but it just barely covered your breasts and it drove him wild.

The colour of it was phenomenal too, a dusty blue shade that complimented your skin tone perfectly. On top of all of that, you had your hair tied back into messy pigtails which somehow worked perfectly together even though it contradicted your outfit. Seeing you with pigtails was adorable and made you look so sweet and innocent, yet seeing you in that swimsuit brought on ideas that weren’t innocent in the slightest.

Then you had a spattering of freckles on your cheeks and shoulders that had reappeared after being in the sun this summer, which Fred just found intoxicatingly beautiful.

He had tried so hard to keep his thoughts clean, but then you had to go and ask him to help you apply sunblock to your back. He was doing so good, but then smearing the thick white cream across your back had him imagining all sorts of different scenarios.

It had only continued into nightfall as well. You all decided you wanted to do s’mores and hang out around a bonfire tonight after spending the late afternoon and early evening playing quidditch and then having a bbq dinner.

You had changed out of your swimsuit into a pair of jean shorts and an oversized hoodie, which in reality wasn’t the problem. Truthfully, it was the way Fred’s mind decided to work when looking at you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you wearing a bra under the hoodie, knowing from you and his sister mentioning it that you girls didn’t like wearing a bra more than you had to.

And then his mind would start to wonder what your skin felt like having had sunblock put on you and swimming. He wondered if your skin would feel soft and maybe a bit warmer than it should as it looked to him that you had gotten a very slight sunburn.

And in general he just couldn’t help but get turned on by how attractive you were sitting there in an oversized hoodie - that could be his if he’d own up to his feelings. He couldn’t help but notice how adorable you were with your cheeks spattered with freckles and tinted pink from the sun, not to mention how happy you looked as you smiled and laughed along with your friends and his siblings.

He had finally excused himself after you locked eyes with him after one of his brothers told a funny story, biting your lip to keep from smiling so much. That was the last bit for him. It drove him crazy imagining what you’d look like biting your lip as you tried to contain your moans as he pounded into you. He had been holding on all summer and he just couldn’t push his thoughts away tonight.

So here he sat locked in the bathroom, trying to get his erection to go away but realizing he needed to relieve himself if he had any hope of getting rid of it.

He was honestly embarrassed, not wanting to jack off in the bathroom over his best friend while you were literally downstairs in his backyard.

He groaned as his cock twitched at the thought of you down there. He wanted you so bad that it was physically hurting him at the moment.

He sighs, slowly palming himself over his trousers just to relieve some of the discomfort. He really really didn’t want to fully masturbate right here right now. It was just too awkward.

He groaned as he touched himself, picturing your beautiful face smiling at him, his hips jerking forward when he recounted how gorgeous you were biting your lip.

Before he realized it he had his hand in his trousers, rubbing himself as he recounted all the times he had found you breathtaking this summer.

He groaned as he pictures you in your pajamas, your nipples visible through the thin material of your shirt. He groaned as he imagined you in your high waisted shorts that seemed to just barely cover your ass and accented your thighs that he would love to grab ahold of. He groaned, his eyes shutting tight as he pictured you in your bikinis, you ass essentially on show and your breasts not far behind.

“Oh fuck, y/n” he moaned, trying so desperately to be quiet.

~.~

You frowned when you realized Fred hadn’t come back yet. He never mentioned where he was going, but you were sure he wouldn’t have gone to bed already. Not at least without telling you guys so.

You figure you’ll go looking for him, especially since you wanted to grab another glass of water anyway.

You frown when you don’t see him in the living room or kitchen. Lost in your thoughts you decide to make your way upstairs just to see if he had maybe laid down for a bit.

Not finding him in his room you sigh. Where could the boy possibly be? It’s not like he could just vanish.

You stop when you hear, what you think is,  groaning. Was Fred groaning? What for and where?

Slowly you follow the sounds to the bathroom and you let out a breath. At least you know where he is. You go to walk away just as he lets out a particularly loud groan, and it didn’t sound pleasant.

You knock gently on the door, frowning. You hoped he was okay.

Not hearing an answer you knock again, this time a little louder as you call out to him.

“Hey, Freddie. Are you alright?”

~.~

Fred stops, cheeks and ears burning in embarrassment. How bloody unlucky is he to have the girl he’s been masturbating to knock on the door as he’s still jerking himself off?

“Freddie?” He hears you ask again.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, y/n. Everything’s good.” He sweats, trying so hard to not let his voice betray him.

He’s still so hard and turned on, all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink here and fuck you senseless. He wants you a moaning mess underneath him, begging for him to let you cum.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound good.”

“Y-yeah. I’m sure.”

He’s trying so hard to not let a groan out at hearing your voice and imagining what he could be doing to you right now. Unfortunately he lets one slip out which is more than enough for you to keep pressing.

“Fred weasley, if you don’t convince me that your good in the next few minutes I am coming in there to check on you. You sound sick.”

“I-I’m fine, y/n. Promise. Just p-please don’t come in here.” He nearly cries, thoroughly embarrassed by the situation, but wanting to continue so badly. He’s been so worked up this summer and it’s finally caught up with him.

You frown hearing how troubled he sounds. You can’t just leave him alone - what if he’s sick? Maybe he ate something bad or got too much sun today? You needed to see for yourself that he was okay.

You tell yourself that’s why you mumble alohomora and gently push open the door, making you way inside.

“Y/n! What are you doing?! P-please go.” Fred urges, trying to cover himself before you turn around to face him.

“Not until I know your alright. What’s wro-oh...” you trail off, taking in the sight in front of you.

If your not mistaken, you just walked in on your best friend masturbating. He was beyond flushed, mostly due to embarrassment at being caught, though. Not to mention how messy he looked; his hair messed up from him throwing his head back, his shirt all scrunched up on his chest, and his pants pulled down around his thighs.

You blush as you take in the sight, yet your not able to look away, probably because you’re so shocked and embarrassed yourself.

“I am so so sorry, Freddie. Uh, let me just leave you alone.” You tumble out, quickly turning back towards the door.

“Y/n, wait.” He calls, furiously flushing at the thought that passes through his head. “C-could you please help me?” He stutters out.

“H-help you? How?” You gulp, turning to face him with your face flushed.

“I, uh, I can’t get myself t-to finish. I need more.”

You gape at him, he’s asking you to get him off. Your best friend of six years, who you may have a tiny bit of a crush on, is asking you to get him off.

While the thought excites you, it also makes you beyond nervous. Sure you and the twins were close and flirted around with each other jokingly, but you’ve never once actually made any advancements with each other.

“I know it’s awkward, but I could really use the help.” He mumbles.

“O-okay. Uh, well let me see.”

You bite your bottom lip, completely embarrassed as he stretches himself out again, slowly moving his hand from himself.

You can barely hold back a groan as you take in the look of his cock all red and erect, precum oozing from the tip. It looks absolutely delicious and you forget about the fact that it’s your best friends.

Cautiously you take him in your hand, kneeling in between his legs as he sits on the toilet.

“Oh godrick,” he groans as your hand wraps around his member, the difference in touch enough to make him even harder.

“You’re so pretty, Fred.” You mumble, sliding your hand down his cock, watching as more precum beads at his tip. Gently you swipe your thumb across his slit, drawing a deep groan from inside him.

“Do more. Please, y/n. Please.” He begs, his head falling backwards as his eyes clench shut.

You smirk, loving the reaction your getting from him. Never in a million years did you think you be kneeling here in the burrow’s bathroom jerking your best friend off, but here you were and you were loving every second of it.

Becoming more confident at the sounds he’s letting out, you bring your mouth to him, licking your tongue over his tip.

“Oh fuck. Y/n, sweetheart. Please, please.” Fred groans, his hips jutting up towards your face.

“Please what, Freddie. Tell me what you want your best friend to do to you.”

He groans, jutting his hips yet again at your words. He knows how filthy this situation is. Even though he loves you, you two aren’t anything more than friends and yet here you are ready to suck him off. He knows how wrong it is, yet at the same time it feels far too good to stop.

“Come on, Freddie, love. Tell me what you want.” You coo, slowly licking up and down his cock, paying attention to the vein on the underside of him as well as the edge of his head.

“I-I want your mouth, princess. I want your lips around me.” He groans, trying to watch you as you smile and bring your head closer to him.

“Good boy, Freddie. Very good.” You praise as take him in your mouth, feeling the weight against your tongue and swallowing around him to see how difficult it was.

“Fuck, princess.” He groans, throwing his head back as you do so.

You smirk and swallow around him again before sinking your head down on him more to the point of him hitting your throat.

Fred moans, grabbing at your hair that you had taken out of the braids from earlier.

“Fuck me, y/n. Please. I want you so bad.” Fred nearly cries, tugging at your hair.

You pull off of him, a string of saliva staying connected for a few seconds as he juts his hips into the air.

“You want me around you, baby. Is that what you said?” You ask, kissing at his neck.

“You want to be inside me while I ride you?”

“Yes. Yes, please, princess. Please.”

You chuckle at his neediness, leaving a few more kisses you neck as you stand up.

Slowly you unbutton your bottoms, sliding them down your legs as Fred watches lazily, his cock twitching at seeing you undressing.

“Like what you see, baby?”

“I love it.” Fred growls, eyeing you as you slip your panties down.

You don’t bother with your hoodie as it won’t be in the way. That and you don’t have a shirt or bra on underneath it and your not quite comfortable being completely naked in front of your best friend.

“You ready, baby? You ready for me to sit on your big cock?”

Fred groans, loving your dirty talk. He never would have imagined you taking charge during sex, but then again he never imagined that he would be begging you to get him off. Even though this isn’t quite what he had been imagining, it was still better than nothing. In fact, he almost thought this was better.

“Freddie, baby. You have to tell me what you’re thinking.” You urge, straddling him, but not yet sliding down on him.

“Yes. Yes, I’m ready. I want you to sit in my big cock, princess. I want my best friend to ride me.” He groans, grabbing a hold of your waist as you grind against him, spreading your wetness on his cock. It makes him proud to feel how wet you are, he’s only hoping all of it was because of him.

“Good job, Freddie.” You smile, kissing his collarbones as you slide yourself onto his cock, moaning out at how amazing it feels.

He was just big enough to stretch you out and it felt amazing. You honestly wished you had done this sooner.

“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good. Feel so good inside me.” You moan, bouncing on his cock as he guides your hips.

“Ohh, Freddie. Right there.” You groan as he rubs right against the spot you need him.

“You like that, princess? You like riding your best friends cock? You love the way I’m filling you up?”

“Yes, Freddie. Love it. Love you and your cock. Feels so, so good.” You groan, arching your back as he hits a spot inside you.

“Oh godrick, y/n.” Fred groans, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you closer to him, his cock twitching happily inside you as your walls clench around him.

“Are you going to cum, Freddie? Going to fill up your best friends pussy with your cum?”

“I know how much you want to.” You whisper in his ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“Oh, fuck. Yes, princess. I want to fill you with my cum. I want to fill you so bad. Please let me, princess. Please.”

“I’m all yours, Freddie.” You smile dreamily, groaning as he juts up into you, his cock twitching.

“Oh, fuuuuck.” He groans, shooting his load inside you as you let out a high pitched whine as you hit your high along with him.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, princess.”

“That was amazing, Freddie. Do you feel better now?” You ask, breathily heavily into his shoulder as you slump against him.

“So much better, princess. Thank you.”

You smile, nodding lazily as you catch your breath. Now that you’re finished, your not quite sure what to do. Was this just a one time thing? What does this mean for you two? Does this change anything?

“Stop thinking.” Fred chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as your still sitting on him.

“Can’t help it, Freddie.”

“You’re such a worry wart. We literally just had sex, hell my dick is still inside you, and you’re mind is already five steps ahead.”

“Does this change anything for us?”

“I would hope so. You’re the reason I was so worked up in the first place, y/n.” He chuckles, pushing your hair out of your face as you look at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. You are so bloody sexy without even trying and it drives me mad. I love having you here this summer, but Merlin has it been torture.”

“Yeah? How so, weasley?” You ask, leaning back and moaning as you forgot he was still inside you.

“If I tell you, we’re going to have to go for a round two; just thinking about you gets me hard.”

“And as much as I’d love to fuck you senseless, my siblings and our friends are probably wondering where we went off to.” Fred says, grinding your hips down into him.

You moan softly, your eyes shutting at the pleasure he’s bringing you.

“So, it’s your choice, sweetheart. We can either go downstairs and pretend that nothing just happened up here, or we can makeup some excuse to explain our absence and we can go continue this in percy’s old room. What do you want to do?”

You whine, not liking how much control he has over you right now. He’s got ahold of your hips, slowly grinding you down into him with his cock still inside you, and he’s letting you make the decision which is the last thing you want to do right now.

“What is it going to be, princess?” He coaxed, kissing at your neck as you had done to him earlier.

“Ohhhh fuck, Freddie. I hate you.” You groan, hating that he’s making you choose.

“I want you.” You moan, burying your face into his chest as it screws up in pleasure.

“Yeah? You want me to go fuck you in percy’s room? You want me to wreck your pussy and fill it with my cum again?”

“Yes, Freddie. Please.”

He smirks, kissing your forehead as he lifts you off of his dick.

“Alright, princess. You get your shorts on and go up to percy’s room. I’m going to go tell everyone that you got a migraine and that I’m going to keep an eye on you for awhile, yeah? I’ll be right up there.”

“I love you, Freddie.” You mumble.

“I love you too, princess. Now go. I’ll be up in a minute. No touching yourself, okay?”

You whine, but nod when he gives you a look. You’ve been wanting him for years and now he’s going to leave you like this after you just rode him? Granted he’ll be back, but you don’t want to wait. If he doesn’t hurry back, you might just have to do what he told you not to.

————————

Part 2 !!

[evertyun]

ENDLESS - ♯choi yeonjun

PAIRING : choi yeonjun x reader

GENRE : ANGST , slight fluff (?) like 0.5%

WARNING : this is a work of fiction anything mention about the character involve are PURELY MADE UP , emotion manipulation (?) , descriptive emotion , swearing , cheating

SYNOPSIS : "we're just friends" little did he know, y/n knows the truth.

OTHERS : include of other idols & oc, the story is not a long one shot its more of the main event skipping until the present time.

"you know i love you right?" yeonjun whispered while stroking your hair softly, cuddle up on the couch together.

you hummed in respond, deep down in your heart, you know he went to her place before he came over. breathing in the smell of her perfume that is painted all over him.

you know that even if you talk about it, yeonjun will keep emphasising they are 'just friends' constantly, you've been through this talk so often to the point that you have given up worrying about her existence. but instead coping with it yourself...

you love yeonjun so much that no matter what he does, even if it hurts you, you're willing to let it all go.

once again both of you are screaming at each other trying to see who is louder

"seriously beomgyu again?" yeonjun sounded pissed

"what about you constantly soojin, soojin, soojin, and that's all you know how to say, when we're together" you look back at him

"for fuck sake y/n, why can't you understand soojin is just a friend stop worrying about it" he shouted again, your heart clenches just holding in your tearz

"i didn't even say anything about your re— no never mind." you were about to retaliate the reply

"i just wanted more time with you" mumbled softly holding in your tears looking down not knowing if he heard your or not.

he stood there looking at you when his phone rang, he looked at the id caller and picked up, and you're just watching his every move

"oh hey whats up?" "i will be there asap" just two sentences only "im leaving" he lets you know and just take his hoodie and car key and left instantly not even checking up on you.

he really left...

"just fucking drop him" beomgyu said as he comfort you with your best friend yeeun

"you don't get it, i can't" the continuous sobbing from you as all of you walk along the pavement of han river park.

"you can do this y/n" yeeun whisper as she pat your back while you were still crying

what would you do without beomgyu and yeeun, constantly being there for you. the fact beomgyu and yeonjun are best friend as well...

"hey, y/n, i just want you to know if it ever gets too hard just know you are not alone" yeeun said while walking towards your apartment with beomgyu

"thank you..." was the last word for the night

some nights were different, but those some nights became a daily routine each day goes by you get more numb but each night you cry too...

he doesn't come by often anymore, maybe once a week but he do leave in less than an hour or two. you could tell from all the excuses he gives you it can go as far to made up lies such as "beomgyu asked me to fetch him home" "soobin forgot his keys" "taehyun left his gloves i need to bring"

"kai asked me to get him panadol he is having bad headache sorry i gotta go, love you babe" tonight was no different, he left so quickly.

but its amazing how he left his phone at your coach, you hold on to his phone debating to unlock it or not to. curiosity gets the best of you, you slide and key in the password he told you before.

'wrong password' he changed it

the phone vibrates the notifications pops up

soojin: i love you too

soojin: but i've reached dalkkom

soojin: im at the corner table see you <3

your heart clenches, so bad when you heard a knock. you walked towards and saw yeonjun as he let himself in and just retrieved his phone and gave you a peck on your forehead then he left.

the extra miles he goes for her, but never once for you, he cared for you once but not anymore. and yet the endless time you gave in

"babe i missed you so much i've been so busy with uni lately" yeonjun hugged you tightly, with his other friends watching the both of you. the look on beomgyu face was so unreadable as though he wanted to flip yeonjun over

"also i asked a friend to tag alone, after all y/n would be the only girl and i was afraid she would feel uneasy so i got one of my friend to tag along" yeonjun added as he let go of you

"yeeun is coming??" beomgyu said in sarcasm knowing too damn well soojin would show up instead

"it's probably soojin" you mumbled out

"what?? who now??" kai and taehyun said in unison

the way all his friends knew about the situation but none of them dare to confront yeonjun. they promise to never let girls come inbetween them and that was the reason

"sorry im late!" a female voice spoke, you turn to look at her

she is everything you are not. insecurity hits, her long silky black hair, her pretty orbs and well shaped lips.

then again,

if he is happy so are you...

soobin could tell you look upset, but what hurt the most was seeing both yeonjun and soojin having fun while you were there broken.

he never looked at you not even once that day, just glued onto her.

its clear enough that he has slipped away from you, its so clear but yet you refused to believe.

"i don't get why is he holding on to you if its clear he loves her?? just what the flying fuck??" yeeun said, its been nearly a year since this whole incident happen

its insane how you manage to hold on even though you clearly know that you are not the one and will never be the one.

the first time yeeun send you a picture of them together at the arcade holding hands. that picture was pure evidence he loved her. its so clear and so loud that you are just a second option.

months goes by you lose yourself, for constantly loving him even though he wouldn't return the affection to you. you were lovesick and tired, you took your friends word in to consideration.

it happens so often, he never showed up to your birthday, or even wished you. you're tired and numb so numb to go through it. he stop texting everyday with excuses that is so bad.

heartbreak . you want to be happy you realise your worth

[next paragraph might be a little too dramatic or to descriptive of insecurity and emotion]

today is the day... (present)

"lets break up" you let out, while both of you were cuddling up to each other

he look at you in the eye all he see was vulnerability, he let go of you without saying much. he know too damn well what he did, but never once did he regret until today in the very couch in your living room.

"wait why? babe, are you okay?" he asked looking at you with concern, you looked at the hickey on his neck that you know he tried to hide and back to his face return a smile to him

"i've hold up for so long, i can't do this anymore" you told him, deep down you just wanted to scream out 'just kidding' . because the look on his face look so genuine and broken as though he really did love you, but you don't want him to go through all the pain

choi yeonjun please get an oscar award. the way he reacts to you, not wanting to let you go. your heart aches so much. you got up from the couch and took your phone.

"please don't let me give in again, i took so much courage to finally let you go" you were holding back your tears, as you unlock your phone to the picture yeeun send you.

it wasn't just one picture but an album? some from beomgyu and some from his very own roommate soobin. the look on his face was clear that he couldn't use the "we're just friends" reason anymore.

"y/n... how long" was all he let out. the picture shown were as long as 5-6 months ago. all he wants to know, was how could you still love a cheater for that long

"it doesn't matter, it never did." you mumbled loud enough for him to hear

"i love you, y/n i feel so bad, please give me a chance, i will change i swear i can't bear to lose you." the guilt in his voice, but apologising was never on his mind

its driving you insane, by the way he could say i love you so easily.

"god yeonjun, i hate you so fucking much, all the i love you, you know too damn well i would give in, why are you doing this to me?" you let out along with you tears, he just look at you all empty

"y/n..."

the more you look at him the more you want to give in

"my love for you was endless and i thought it ended i guess it never did. maybe i am not feeling well tonight" you gave in, and you hated it so much.

guess you couldnt leave him after all

"y/n, just let me explain" he tried to reason out

"there's nothing to explain but... what does she have!?" you really went ahead to compare yourself to her "maybe her long silky hair, or her petite figure maybe her big round eyes, or even he beautiful lips, she has it all yeonjun you don't have to explain because if i were you, i do fall for her too.."

looking at the nearest scissor you grab it, yeonjun was in utter shocked he tries to grab the scissors before you but its was too late

"y/n please don't, we can jus-" before he was about to finish the sentence you cut your hair "look i don't have long silky hair anymore am i still pretty?" then you proceeded to scratch yourself and your face making sure it has some marks for you to regret tomorrow "oh no my face-"

"FOR FUCK SAKE Y/N STOP CAN WE JUST TALK!?" he finally shouted, you flinched and look back at him with built up emotions

"NO WE CANT I WILL GIVE IN, I WILL HATE MYSELF JUST... , I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH YEONJUN" you cried and scream out loud hoping her heard you loud enough maybe even your neighbour heard you out loud.

"y/n, im sorry" he walk towards you as he grab the scissors from your hand and he hugged you tight, its been so long since you felt this sincere feeling from him. and it hurts more than it felt good.

you pushed him away, and remove yourself from his embrace

"im going to sleep now, you can see yourself out" you left straight to your room. why just why you can never stop...

you looked up at the ceiling finally crying. cursing at yourself, he probably left to find soojin or even his friends for snitching on him. his move was so unpredictable too unexpected.

opening the door to your room he sat next to your bed. "y/n, it was a mistake i should never have taken you for granted im sorry. i love you i can't bare to lose you." pretending to be asleep not replying to whatever he says

he walked closer to you and gave a light peck on your forehead. you couldn't hold it in and tears fall, the guilt yeonjun felt was unbearable.

his phone buzz as he look down on to his phone and back to you, "i have to go and clean up the mess i've made" said looking at your "sleeping" figure

he stood up and right when he was about to leave, you grab his wrist instinctly

"the tightness in my chest, its so suffocating, but i love the feeling, because i know you're happy out there and having fun and that's what i want you to feel... to be happy, but if you really love me just let me go that's the least you could do"

he look at his wrist the one you are holding

"no y/n.." he really didn't want to let go his voice holds so much guilt,

"if its meant to be we will find our way back to each other again, i promise because i know i could never hate you even if you hurt me the most" you let go of his wrist finally.

he stood there looking at you for another minute or two and he finally left your room.

"maybe 1 more chance for change doesn't hurt at all"

even after all you have been through you still consider to put him above you.

a/n: i don't think it's my best but i will work on it, seems very rush but also sorry for spelling and english error as mention its not my first language;-;

[saphirered]

Drowned Sorrows (Vagrant pt2.)

Caleb settles at the table in your shared room, ink and paper ready to go to work and you grab your stuff making way to leave when Caleb stops you, stepping in your path to the door, arms crossed and eyes burning into you. You try to step around him but he just moves with you until you give up. Apparently He’s adamant on talking.

“What the hell do you want?” You roll your eyes at his childish means from preventing you from leaving the room.

“This has gone on long enough.” Caleb states.

“What has?” You play dumb and Caleb gives you a disapproving look akin to a teacher scolding a student and you could just wring the life out of him for for it. Gods, can he just leave you be?

“You know exactly what.”

“Please, by all means, enlighten me, oh grand master Widogast.” You mock and now it’s Caleb’s turn to roll his eyes. Do you have to be so annoying? Why can’t you just act like an adult?

“If you insist. Why do you run out of the room whenever I study? Why do you feel the need to cringe and cower whenever I do anything even remotely magic related?” Caleb asks as you shake your head biting your tongue. This man… This man has some guts to call you out like he has but you suppose maybe this whole thing between the two of you wouldn’t have been as much of an issue if the two of you could just talk about your issues instead of bottling it up until you burst in moments like these, usually ending in some kind of shouting match followed by the silent treatment until Nott makes you ‘kiss and make up’ like she’s your mom.

“It’s none of your business, Caleb. Now let me out.” You once again try to push past him but he doesn’t let you. “Try me, Widogast or I’ll-“ You threaten but are cut off.

“Do what? You won’t use your magic beyond rudimentary practices. What could you possibly do?” Caleb pushes. You know he’s pushing your buttons, your anger only another means to get answers for himself and you hate yourself for falling for his calculated move but you still do.

“You don’t want to find out, Widogast. It didn’t end well for the last people.” There it is. That’s what he’d been waiting for. Those words alone, that threat is not an empty one. You wouldn’t harm him, not permanently at least but there’s a truth to your words and Caleb knows his calculated move to piss you off is paying off. He’ll have to tread carefully if he wants more answers and not actually provoke your wrath.

Shit. Shit shit shit. ‘It didn’t end well for the last people’. Shit. You didn’t want those words to leave your lips at all. Ever. Stupid Caleb fucking Widogast. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You can’t deal with this right now and try to push him out of the way but Caleb hardly budges. You half contemplate leaving through the window just to make a point but you’d rather not draw that kind of attention to yourself.

“Veiled threats and half truths. Those are a coward’s words who doesn’t intend to make true on their promises.” Oh you’re this far away from kicking his ass.

“Well it takes one to know one.” You hiss. “You might want to think twice. We still share a room and I will not hesitate to smother you with a pillow while you sleep. Now. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” You feel a tingling in your fingertips, frustration running through your face with just a tiny hint of fear. You ball your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms. Last thing you need is to lose control right now but Caleb doesn’t have to know that.

Caleb steps out of the way, allowing you to pass. He stares you down until you close the door behind you, sharing one last glare before you’re off doing whatever you can to not be in any proximity of that room.

————

Hours later Nott has fallen asleep at the foot of Jester’s bed, the tiefling herself curled up comfortably. Beau’s sprawled out across her own bed limbs dangling off each side as she snores. You’d fallen asleep sitting against Beau’s bed until her hand slapped you in the face rudely pulling you from your not so comfortable sleeping position. You get up and stretch your limbs, cracking your back. Hopefully Caleb will have gone to sleep himself and you’ll be able to make it to your own bed without dealing with the wizard at this late, or rather early hour.

Exiting the girls’ room you see Fjord slumped against the wall near to his room, giggles and moans coming from the room he shares with Mollymauk. This time he had the sense to bring a pillow but Fjord still looked about as comfortable as anyone could be sleeping against the wall of one of the most expensive places in all of Zadash. You contemplated waking him and telling him to take your bed instead but you don’t doubt you’ll lose your comfy bed forever if you switched roommates. Don’t want to set any precedents because in all honesty, rather him than you having to deal with the lavender tiefling living his life to the fullest. Still, you take your cloak, throwing it over the half-orc gently as you move on to your room.

You don’t see any candle light bleeding through the narrow slit beneath the door so you count yourself lucky as you quietly open the door and slide in, tiptoeing over to your bed, putting your things down and beginning to get ready to sleep. You pull the silk covers back and lay down, making yourself comfortable and close your eyes. You can still smell the scent of that fine parchment and ink. You can almost hear the phantom scribbling of a pen over that paper, dipping into the ink vial every so often to replenish. It’s pure torture. The sound needs to stop. The smell needs to go and despite you trying to use some prestidigitation to get rid of the smell, changing it to those overly fragrant flowers at the shop you passed by a few days ago, the smell is still stuck in your nostrils, the sound still trapped in your ears, the damage already done.

You turn over onto your back, pulling the pillow from beneath you and pulling it over your head, releasing a frustrated but soft muffled scream more akin to a sigh into the plush feathers. The darkness behind your eyelids doesn’t help as you feel a vision of a room creep in, one etched into your memory just as that scent and sound are. Accompanied by feelings of pain and fear, desperation and helplessness, is the feeling of being completely and utterly trapped. No matter your tossing and turning, it all remains and the walls close in, sleep couldn’t be further out of your reach. That is until the lights turn on. A gentle orange glow fills the room and you’re pulled away from your memories and back into the room you share with Caleb.

“Would you stop your tossing and turning, please.” Caleb asks groggy, the sound of moving fabrics and endless sighs having awoken him from his own sleep. Caleb turns over to see you sitting, elbows on your bent knees and head in your hands as you try to stabilise your breathing, counting under your breath like its a life line. You may not exactly be friends and quarrel more often than not, that doesn’t mean he can’t be worried for you. Something’s clearly wrong and it doesn’t take an expert to see that.

“Are you alright?” He asks carefully turning to a half seated position to get a better view of you.

“Just go back to sleep, Caleb.” You grumble not moving from your position. No quip back, no witty remark, not even actual annoyance or a half threat to let Jester draw dicks in his precious books. The position you’re in, the traits you’re displaying are also familiar to him. He’s found himself in a similar situation many times and while you may have said it before as an offence, it’s true no less; takes one to know one. You’re reliving trauma, or at least coming back from reliving a traumatic memory of some kind. Triggered by what exactly?

“I’ll go back to sleep when I’m sure I won’t be awoken again every ten minutes.” In other words; talk.

“Piss off.” You spit raising from your bed, reaching for your bag. Instead you find an orange tabby raising it’s back and hissing at you, by the command of his master no doubt. You have half the mind to pick the cat up by the scruff and toss him at the wizard but right now you just want out.

“You can’t keep running away from your problems forever.” The words hit hard. Caleb’s right but why does it sound like a statement not solely directed at you? You know exactly why. You might not exactly have had any bonding moments with Caleb and he’s been shifty about his past but you know the words of someone who tries to deny that same truth themself.

“It seems to work just perfectly for you. Hypocrite.” It sounded like a curse. Hypocrite. Caleb had known for a long time but having it thrown so bluntly at his face, it hurt. He doesn’t lash out in anger or hit back with an equally venomous retort but instead just stares at you with pity. He really does pity you. He may not know the story but he knows that pain and no one should have to endure that. Still it’s your choice to keep it to yourself. It’s your choice to keep it all bottled up and locked away. No matter what he says, or does for that matter, he can’t change your mind, or even help you despite your differences, if you don’t allow anyone in, regardless of your like, or dislike in his case, for the person. He can’t help someone who won’t help themselves. And that’s exactly what makes him the biggest hypocrite here. His pain is his punishment.

“Where are you going?” Caleb asks as you push Frumpkin aside just enough to reach for your coin pouch, the cat hissing and clawing at your hands until he falls silent again. You open the door looking back one last time.

“To find a rooftop with a good view and drown my sorrows.” You close the door behind you and do exactly that. A bottle or two of good booze acquired and a nice rooftop found. The view would have been nice weren’t it cloudy. Halfway through your first bottle the gods decided to shit in your dish by the sound of rolling thunder and rain pouring down from the skies by the buckets, drenching you to the bone in a matter of seconds. You debated going back inside but you’re stubborn and stayed on that rooftop watching the water spill over the drains until you were shaking from the cold. Maybe suffering from hypothermia isn’t worth making a statement.

[thetravelerwrites]

Urgan (Orc)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Male Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Orc, Male Reader, MLM, Gay Reader, Football Captain, College, Friends to Lovers Content Warnings: Alcohol Poisoning, Children, Kids, Pregnancy, Unwanted Pregnacy, Mention of Abortion, College Drop-Out, Strong Language, Drug Use, Angst, Super Angst, ALL THE ANGST Words: 4385

A super duper angsty commission by the wonderful @severedreamerbeard​​! Urgan is the captain of his college football team and all around cool dude. He's an extremely reliable guy with his whole life ahead of him... until the woman he's been dating winds up pregnant, which turns his entire world upside down. The reader, Urgan's best friend, tries to help as much as he can while watching Urgan's life fall apart. Please reblog and leave feedback!

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Urgan had been your best friend since preschool. You were human and he was an orc, but you were both jocks growing up, both in sports, both athletic. He’d been there with you through all the major events in your life. He was there when your parents divorced, when you came out as gay in middle school, and when the teammates who had once been friends started bullying you because of it. He was always there.

You hoped you had been as good a friend to him as he had been to you. You were there when his dad died, when his mom remarried someone he hated, and when his highschool sweetheart cheated on him. After all that, the two of you were closer than brothers.

College life was easier on both of you. You both had gotten a sports scholarship and found a friend group that was a lot of fun to hang out with. Parties were epic, classes were less so, but you were living the life and loving every second of it.

Then it changed. Not for everyone, not even for you. Or at least, it didn’t have to. You could have made different choices. It would have been far easier if you had, you were sure. But…

“How long have you been dating Kelly?” You asked him over a beer. The two of you were sitting out on the front porch of a house party currently in full swing.

“Who?” He snorted, half-asleep. He’d pulled an all-nighter the day before preparing for his psych exam.

“Kelly,” You said, pointing into the open door at the girl wearing a halter with a half-empty vodka bottle in her hand, some of which she’d spilled on her chest, grinding on another girl who was sucking the vodka off of her clavicle.

“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘dating’,” He replied, throwing back a large swig of his beer. “Fucking, yes. I’m not trying to date anyone right now. I don’t have the time.” He threw his beer bottle into a large trash barrel and stood up. “Where’s Derek? He owes me fifty bucks.”

“For what?” You asked, standing up and following him through the house. He slapped Kelly’s ass as he passed her on the way inside, and she laughed.

“I borrowed it to buy coke three weeks ago,” He said.

“Didn’t he almost OD?” You asked.

“Yeah, but that ain’t my fault, I want my money,” Urgan said, muscling his way through the crowd.

“Don’t be an asshole, bro,” You said, still following him.

“I’m not being an asshole! It’s not like he learned anything, I bet you five bucks he’s doing coke right now.”

“Yeah, I’m not taking that bet,” You laughed. “I don’t know of a time when he’s not on coke. I think he was high when we first met.”

“That’s my point. You know I’m cool about that stuff normally, but it’s affecting his performance on the field,” Urgan grumbled. “I’m team captain, and if he doesn’t straighten up, I have to kick him off the team, friend or not. We lost to E.U. because of him.”

You grimaced. E.U. had been your school’s rival for generations. The loss hurt and was a huge blow to Urgan. It didn’t help that it was televised nationally.

“If you kick him off the team, the other guys will be pissed,” You reasoned.

“I know that,” He said grumpily. “But managing the team internally is my job. If I don’t do something about it, coach will either demote me or kick me off with him for not handling it when I should have. I can’t afford to lose my scholarship over some douchebag’s coke habit.” He made his way into the garage at the opposite end of the house and smacked a seated Derek on the back of the head. “Hey, Derek! Money! Now!”

“Dude, back off!” Derek protested. “I’ll get it to you when I get it, damn!”

“Not good enough,” Urgan said, kicking the mirror that was in front of Derek. Powder went flying.

“Hey!” Derek said, standing up and taking a swing at Urgan. Urgan ducked and caught Derek’s arm, pinning it behind him. He was always quick.

“Quit the coke or quit the team,” Urgan said, snarling. “We’re not losing another game because you’re too high to play.”

“The fuck are you talking about, man?” Derek said, struggling. “Don’t blame that shit on me! It’s not my fault you can’t organize your team!”

“I’m serious, dude,” Urgan said, pushing Derek to the ground. “I’m not getting punished for you. Straighten up or fuck off.”

“Suck my dick, asshole,” Derek said. He jerked his chin at you. “Or get your boyfriend to do it.”

Words like that were water off your back at this point, but it always riled Urgan up. You could already see him tensing.

“Let it go, dude,” You said, pulling him back. “Derek, seriously, you’re bringing the whole team down. Lay off the drugs, at least until after the championship.”

“Get the fuck out of my house if you’re going to act all high and mighty,” Derek said, pushing past you. “And you can forget that fifty bucks. It’s all over the ground now.”

Urgan’s fists were balled up and he was breathing hard.

“He’s not going to stop,” Urgan said.

“Come on, dude,” You said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re not going to accomplish anything here. Take it to the field. Show him why you’re captain.”

“I guess,” He said. “I’m hungry, man, let’s grab something.”

“Sure,” You said. “Kelly’s coming over to your place after the party, though, right?”

“Yeah, but she won’t be any shape to do anything but sleep. She knows where the key is, she’ll be fine.”

Finals were coming up, and most people were holed up in their rooms or dorms studying. Urgan was a decent student and never really worried about tests, though you hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days, which was odd. He could have been working a lot; he had a part-time job to pay for his own studio apartment. He said the dorms were too small for him.

“Urgan? No, I haven’t seen him in a week.” Joey said. Joey was a coworker from the bar where Urgan worked and also an ex-boyfriend of yours. You bumped into him at the university’s library while looking for Urgan. Urgan hadn’t answered his door when you went to check on him, so you figured he had to be here.

“Is he sick?” You asked, taking out your phone. You’d texted him awhile ago and you saw that he had seen it, but he hadn’t responded.

“I dunno,” Joey said. “All I know is that he asked the boss for some personal time. It could just be finals getting to him.”

You frowned. “Hmm… I’m going back to his apartment. He’s never been this quiet before. Something’s not right.”

“Tell him to come back to work. All the girls try to flirt with me when he’s not there. I need him to be my shield.”

You laughed and waved him off, heading out.

“Urgan!” You called, knocking insistently on his door. “Open the door! Are you alright?”

No answer. Frustrated, you got the spare key that was hidden in a slit of the doormat and unlocked the door. His apartment was dark and looked normal. Urgan was a fairly tidy guy, and nothing was really out of place.

“Urgan!” You called again, walking around the partition that obscured his bed. There he was, passed out on top of his blankets. There were empty bottles of liquor everywhere. Your heart stopped.

“Oh, fuck, please don’t be dead,” You said, crawling on the bed to slap him in the face. “Urgan, wake up!” His skin was cold, which scared the shit out of you, but after a minute feeling for a pulse on his neck you found a heartbeat, and you could see him breathing very slowly, so at least he was alive. But he wasn’t responding to your attempts to rouse him.

“Shit.” You took out your phone and called and called emergency services.

“911, what’s the nature of your emergency?”

“Hey, I need an ambulance, I think my friend has alcohol poisoning.” You said quickly, hoping it was intelligible, and gave them the address.

“Okay, sir, how long has this been going on?”

“I’m not sure, I just found him. I haven’t heard from him in days. He’s got a pulse, but he won’t wake up.”

“Is he cold to the touch?”

“Yes.”

“Is he breathing?”

“Slowly, but yes.”

“Can you make sure his airway is clear?”

You put the phone down and opened his mouth. There didn’t seem to be anything in the way.

“It’s clear,” You said.

“Alright, sir, I’ve got an ambulance on the way. Do me a favor and turn him on his side and bend the leg that’s on the top. Keep his airway clear and keep an eye on his breathing.”

“Okay,” You said, doing as the operator said and trying to keep calm.

The ambulance arrived within minutes, and after several moments of the EMTs attempting to wake him and failing, they loaded him in the rig. You were able to ride with him to the hospital. They took you both to a room, and you stood back as they began hooking Urgan up to all sorts of tubes and wires. They put a tube in his mouth because his breathing was weak and slowing down. They put him on a heavy saline drip and debated whether or not to pump his stomach. Eventually, they left him to rest and you sat with him.

“What the fuck is happening with you, man?” You asked him quietly as he slept.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and when you woke up, they were taking the air tube out of his throat. Urgan was awake and groaning in discomfort as it was removed.

“Dude, what the hell?” You said, standing up.

His eyes were bloodshot and he looked extremely sick, but at least he was awake. He waited for the doctors and the nurses to leave so that it was just you and him before he answered you.

“Kelly’s pregnant,” He said hoarsely. “It’s mine. She’s sure of it.”

“Oh, shit,” You said, sitting back down in the chair next to him. “I thought you used protection.”

“I do,” He said in frustration. “The condom must have broken or something. She told me she was on the pill. I don’t know what happened. I’m so fucking screwed.”

“You may not be,” You said, trying to comfort him, but you knew he was right. Being team captain meant that you put the team before everything. If you had another priority, you couldn’t be team captain. Not to mention the scandal of having a kid during the height of his college career would destroy his reputation and make him seem irresponsible. A baby right now was going to ruin him.

“Don’t bullshit me. I can’t show my face at school. Coach is going to kick my ass as soon as he finds out. My life is over.”

“Don’t talk like that, man,” You said. “What’s Kelly saying about all this? Has she told anyone?”

“No, not yet,” He said, covering his eyes. “Well, she hadn’t when I started drinking, but I don’t know if she has now.”

“She wants to keep it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get farther than ‘I’m having a baby and it’s yours’. And then I just started drinking and didn’t stop.”

“How far along is she?”

“Three months, she said.”

“How does she know it’s yours?”

“I was the only person she was sleeping with at the time. We were thinking about dating seriously, but it didn’t work out that way.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find out, I guess.”

You frowned deeply. “She’s… been partying pretty hard in the last three months.”

Urgan rubbed his face. “I know. I’m scared shitless the kid is going to be born fucked up.”

“Do you… think you can talk her into giving it up? For adoption, I mean? She doesn’t seem like mom material.”

“I don’t know,” He said. “I don’t know what she’ll do.”

“What about…” You hesitated to mention it. “What about an abortion?”

“That’s her decision,” He said vaguely. “It’s her body.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, don’t,” He said. “I’ll do it when I’ve got my head on right.”

“Dude, look where you are right now,” You said, gesturing vaguely. “Let me at least call her.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

You took Urgan’s phone, which was in his back pocket when he was brought in, and called Kelly. She was surprised to hear about Urgan’s condition and said she’d come up to the hospital.

She arrived an hour later and you gave them some privacy to talk. It was a while, so you went to grab a soda. When you came back, Kelly was leaving with tears on her face. You went in and saw Urgan sitting up in bed. His eyes were red from crying.

“Hey man, are you okay?”

“No,” He said, wiping his face and sniffing. “She’s going to keep it. I’m leaving school.”

“What?” You said, coming around. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m gonna finish out the semester but I’m leaving before the baby is born. I have to find a better job. I’m hoping I can come back when the baby is a bit older, like when they start school or something, and finish my degree.”

“But you only have a year left! Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“No!” He shouted. “I don’t want to leave school! I’ve been dreaming of this scholarship since I was a kid! It was my dad’s dream! But I’m not going to be a deadbeat! I have to find a decent job before the baby is born. I don’t have a choice.”

You were stunned to silence and just listen to him breathe through his tears.

“Are you and Kelly staying together?”

“Fuck no,” He said vehemently. “We both know that would be stupid. She’s going to stay in school as long as she can. She’s supposed to be due in winter sometime, so I should have enough saved up by then to give her for the baby, to make sure they’re comfortable.” He scowled. “I’m sure Derek is going to be thrilled. I can just see the look on his face now.”

“Don’t worry about that jackass,” You said. “Dude, I… Is there anything I can do to help out?”

He shook his head. “Kelly and I are going to keep this quiet until the end of the semester so that we don’t have to deal with anyone bullshit. After that, we’ll start telling people.”

“You’re not going to tell your mom?”

“Not yet. I can’t face her yet. She’s going to be so disappointed in me.” His tears began to fall again, and all you could do was put a hand on his shoulder and be there for him.

“I won’t say anything to anyone,” You told him. “I’m still your best friend, no matter what. If you need anything, you know I got you.”

“Thanks, man,” He said, his voice breaking.

Urgan finished out school as he planned, barely scraping a passing grade, and then notified everyone that he wouldn’t be returning. As expected, his coach was furious, his mom was disappointed, and the team was dumbfounded. Derek was the only person who seemed to be enjoying the situation.

During summer, he asked for an amniocentesis, both to prove whether or not Urgan was the father, and also to check for any genetic conditions, since Kelly’s family had a history of genetic diseases. Urgan was hoping that she was lying about only sleeping with him around the time she conceived and that he would wind up not the father so he could go back to school, but the test was conclusive. The baby was his.

Urgan found work pretty quickly at a seafood processing plant near town. It was grueling work and it didn’t pay much, but it was a full-time job and had healthcare benefits, which was the best he could hope for in these circumstances. He began saving immediately to buy clothes and diapers for his kid, which he recently found out was a little girl, and was in frequent contact with Kelly. He didn’t attend any of the doctor’s visits at Kelly’s request. Not that he wanted to be there in the first place.

You continued with college and partied like a normal college guy, stayed on the football team, and was promoted to captain. Urgan seemed happy for you and gave you pointers on leadership. If he resented you for it, he gave no sign.

Many of Urgan’s old friends, mostly team members, dropped him immediately. They no longer invited him to parties or events, and when you mentioned inviting him, they shot you down. As far as you knew, the only one who still stood by him was you, and you couldn’t be there as much as you wanted to as you now had responsibilities with the team.

Even still, if he called, you dropped what you were doing and went over. You promised you’d be there, and you were going to keep that promise. He was your best friend and you were going to stand with him. No matter what.

Urgan’s daughter, Roga, was born in November. She was small, even for a half-orc. You were there in the waiting room for the birth with the grandparents. It might have been your presence that stopped them from being at each other’s throats; the animosity in the air was palpable. Kelly’s dad was there, looking not-best-pleased at Urgan’s mom, despite her being nearly twice his size, but no harsh words were said.

Urgan came out in the full paper surgical outfit, holding the baby. He even seemed happy.

“Here she is,” He said, holding her out for the grandparents to see.

“Oh, isn’t she precious,” Urgan’s mom, Reana, said. “She’s got your eyes, Urg.”

“Yeah,” He said, smiling. “She looks a bit like dad, don’t you think?”

“She does!” Reana said brightly. “That nose definitely looks like his.”

The grandparents took turns holding the baby, and then went in to see the mother.

“Hey,” Urgan said to you, the only one left in the room. “Do you want to hold her?”

You chuckled nervously. “I dunno, man, I’ve never held a baby.”

“Neither have I, before today,” He said. “You don’t have to. I just wanted to offer since everyone else got to.”

“Yeah, but they’re family.”

“You’re family, too,” He said, looking at you like you were being an idiot.

You smiled a little and held out your arms, and Urgan carefully lay the baby into them. She was small and squishy and her face was all wrinkly. Babies all looked like potatoes to you. But she reached out and yawned and grabbed at your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s cute,” You said, letting her grip your finger.

“Yeah,” He said, grinning.

“How’s Kelly?”

“She hates my guts, but she’s okay.” Urgan reached out to take the baby, and you handed her over. “I should take Roga back. The lactation specialist wants to work with her.”

“I didn’t know there was a such thing as a lactation specialist,” You said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah,” Urgan said. “The last nine months have been extremely informative.”

You snorted. “I bet.”

He took the baby back to Kelly and you sat in the waiting room, feeling a little awkward. Why were you here? You weren’t really family. You knew you were supporting Urgan, but… he didn’t really need you there right now. He seemed fine. Happy even, considering the circumstances. Maybe… maybe you should go. You really didn’t belong here.

You texted Urgan to let him know something had come up and to call you if you needed him, and he told you that it was okay, and to be careful going home. As you left, you sighed in relief. But you also felt a little guilty.

Six months later was graduation. You finished top of your class and made valedictorian. You knew that if Urgan had still been in school, he’d have gotten that honor, but…

Urgan didn’t come to graduation, and you understood why. Kelly crossed the stage and accepted her diploma, and you couldn’t help feel a little resentful at her, despite the fact that it wasn’t her fault that Urgan wasn’t there, either. They really had done everything they were supposed to do--used protection, used birth control, was careful--but things just happen sometimes. Even still, it felt like Urgan was the one who had sacrificed the most and had gotten nothing in return.

You managed to get a job at an accounting firm almost immediately after graduation. It was a boring job but the money was good. You were hoping it would be a stepping stone to a better career later.

Since getting the job, you hadn’t really seen or spoken to Urgan much. You were still his best friend, but… you had your own life to live. You felt guilty about it, but your world couldn’t stop just because his had.

Urgan was still working at the fish processing plant, working long hours to support Roga. Urgan was basically paying Kelly’s rent and bills plus everything Roga needed for both homes, since he took her on the weekends from Friday night to Monday morning, when he dropped her off on the way to work.

However, a month after graduation, Urgan called you in a panic.

“Kelly’s gone,” He said. “She’s left. I got a text from her saying she’s gone to Canada.”

“What?” You asked in disbelief. “Did she take Roga?”

“No, I’ve got her here.” He said, his voice shaking. “When she texted me, I was scared she had run off with the baby, but she left Roga with her stepdad. I just picked her up and I’m bringing her back home with me.”

You felt terrible for hoping Kelly had taken Roga with her to Canada. Even though you knew it wasn’t Roga’s fault, all you wanted was for Urgan’s life to go back to normal. You just wanted him to have the things he should have had if Roga hadn’t been born. And you hated yourself for thinking that.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” He said. He sounded extremely distressed. “Can you meet me at my apartment, please? I need someone to talk to. You’re all I have left.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there,” You said, picking up your keys.

“Thank you,” He said, and then hung up. He was audibly crying.

You made it to Urgan’s apartment before he did, and you saw him step out of the elevator carrying a ton of baby stuff in one arm and hauling Roga in her carseat in the other.

“Can you take her, please?” Urgan said. He looked pale and in shock.

“Yeah, of course,” You said, taking her carrier and looking inside. She was sleeping with a stuffed griffon clutched in her baby hands. “Is she okay?”

“I think so,” He said, unlocking his door. His apartment was strewn with kid stuff. It was so much different than the last time you’d seen it.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” He said, dropping the load he was carrying in the middle of the floor.

“Dude, I don’t care about the mess, are you okay?” You asked.

“I…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He was visibly shaking. “I don’t know if I can do this alone. I had accepted being a dad, but I don’t know if I can be… the only parent. I… I don’t know any babysitters for when I’m working. I don’t… is she off breastmilk? When was her last check up? When is she supposed to see the doctor again? Kelly didn’t tell me those things because I.. I figured she had it handled. I was making sure they had everything they needed. I didn’t think I’d…”

“Okay, calm down,” You said. “Roga is fine. You can find all of that stuff out. I’ll help, I’ll help however I can, okay?”

“Okay,” He said, sitting on his couch heavily. “Okay.” He reached down into her carseat and unstrapped her, putting her against his shoulder, clutching her as if she was a warm stone and he was freezing. He was certainly shaking like he was.

This was the first time you’d seen Roga since she was born. Now that she’d had a chance to grow, she did look a lot like Urgan. It made you feel worse for resenting her.

“Look, can you watch her for a few minutes?” He asked suddenly. “I’m almost out of formula and I didn’t expect to have her right now. I was going to go Thursday to stock up. I don’t want to run out.”

“I…” You hesitated.

“Please,” He begged quietly. “Please. Ten minutes. I promise.”

You sighed. “Okay.”

He transferred Roga from his shoulder to yours. Uncertainly, you gripped her firmly.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” Urgan said, and he was out the door.

There was a rocking bassinet near Urgan’s bed behind the divider, and you settled Roga in it, staring down at her peacefully sleeping form.

“I wish I didn’t hate you,” You told her, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks. “But you took everything from him. I know it’s not your fault, but it doesn’t change anything. He’ll never be the man he should have been because of you.”

Roga sighed in her sleep and snugged into her bed without waking. You did nothing but sit on Urgan’s bed and stare at her the entire time Urgan was gone, allowing yourself to hate her and Kelly and the team at school and everyone who turned their back on Urgan when he needed them the most. When Urgan returned, your tears had dried, and you left.

Roga was still sleeping.

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felicitate. nine.

eight < current > ten

Dec. 24, 2017

You make yourself comfortable on the rooftop, debating if you should go ahead and text your brother. He would be almost as disappointed as you were; Satoru had taken to calling himself the captain of your ship with Yuta and Toge, even coming up with a nickname that incorporated shortened versions of all three names. You sigh, deciding it’s probably best to not text him. He’s likely already worried about leaving you in charge, no need to add a worry about something that isn’t deadly.

A sudden yell disrupts your thoughts and you jump into position, nocking an arrow and aiming towards the scream. You hitch your breath at the sight: Geto is striding into your school alone, leaving a trail of headless assistants behind him. One of the bodies is familiar and you recognize her as the assistant that gave you chocolate with a bright smile after a mission with unfortunate timing left you covered in curse blood and your own. She didn't flinch or offer pity - just a single chocolate kiss. Now she is covered in gore and blood, her previously pristine white shirt coated with her own brain matter.

You feel your resolve hardens. Geto is a curse-user, a human at his core, but he also is a monster. The arrow flies an accurate course but the man dodges, leaving it to embed itself into the wall instead of his torso. He turns to your rooftop, calling out, “Ah, (y/n)! And here I thought your brother would lock you in a tower.” Geto unleashes a grade-one curse that looks similar to a wolf and sends it after you. He is infuriatingly unbothered by your presence and continues his steady gait into the school grounds.

You start running across the rooftops, jumping over gaps and dodging the curse’s attempts to bite you. The rooftop tiles bite into your hands and knees. It faintly registers that a nail broke when you almost missed a jump, narrowly avoiding falling to the ground.

Satoru didn’t say how long to keep this secret, but you assume now is a good time to give Maki and Yuta a heads-up. You spot Maki stepping away from a classroom, so you run there, drawing the curse after you. On the roof next to where she stands, you plant your feet and turn, suddenly drawing your katana and slicing at the wolf. It draws back, avoiding your attack before lunging suddenly. Its claws sink into your leg. You cry out in pain, falling to your knees. When the curse lunges again, this time aiming for your throat, you fall on your back and thrust your blade into its stomach. You force the blade down its body with a grunt, disemboweling the creature. The teeth around your throat loosen, but the dead weight of the curse dropping on you prevents you from getting up immediately. Guts slide out and onto you and you suppress a gag. You feel a lot like Carrie on prom night.

When you finally stagger to your feet, you see Maki has engaged Geto in a fight that she’s obviously losing. You cry her name and rush to her side. She doesn’t get a chance to acknowledge you as Geto, in one fluid moment, breaks her weapon and sends her flying. She falls to the ground as a ragdoll, bleeding heavily from her side and head. You watch her body land, horrified, before you’re snapped back into the fight rudely.

Geto is now the closest to you he’s been since you were a child, frightened and unable to communicate with the people around you. He feels some long-forgotten sense of pity as he slides the blade of his knife further into your stomach. “W-wh-?” You look at the handle sticking out of your body curiously, blood starting to leak from the corner of your mouth. The pain hasn’t begun to register but your body understands that you are unable to fight. You faint, missing the entrance of Panda and Toge by a few precious seconds.

When Yuta comes out from the classroom, he isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find. He felt a few earthquakes and thought it best to find you and Maki to wait out any aftershocks together. Yuta was sure it was to be a little awkward after his rejection, but also wanted to be sure you were okay. He didn’t expect to find you covered in blood, the same cute gym clothing you were wearing that morning when he rejected you ruined. A quick glance around and he sees the rest of his classmates, his friends, in similar form. Inumaki is clinging to consciousness.

Geto, the one who grabbed Yuta months earlier, stands surrounded by the bodies, hardly winded. “I truly wanted you to live, Okkotsu, but this is for the future of jujutsu.” Yuta wonders how he can fight this man. How can he protect his friends, the only ones to give him a chance since Rika, when Geto already destroyed the strongest people he knew. He was so, so weak compared to each of them.

Inumaki desperately calls a slurred version of his name and says, “Run away.” The fact that the command does nothing, that Yuta feels nothing, breaks him from his spiral. He summons Rika in a rage.

“I am going to kill you!” He declares. Yuta doesn’t think he has ever felt such anger and despair, the feeling of watching Rika die now multiplied by four.

Geto simply says, “You are going to die.”

-

A sudden pull on your stomach wakes you harshly. “Shit!” Your eyes snap open, to see a sheepish Panda holding the knife that was previously in your stomach. You automatically go to apply pressure on the wound but your hands find Maki’s already there, dressing the wound. “What happened?”

“The fight’s over, but we need to find Yuta,” Maki explains. “He must have healed all of us, but you still had the blade in you. It needed to be removed before you get up. All of us are going to be fine, (y/n), you can rest now.” She helps you to your feet and you cringe looking at your ruined outfit. Maki catches your pout and smiles, glad some things never change.

Toge comes to your side to take Maki’s place as your crutch. You hug him tightly, unable to express in words how relieved you are. He hugs back, equally overwhelmed after seeing what seemed like your corpse. Toge helps you limp along as you all start tracking Yuta’s residuals. Panda clears his throat and asks, “When did this happen?”

“Only a few days ago. Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming,” you explain with an eye-roll.

“No, I totally did. Just curious who won the bet.”

“If we didn’t just fight for our lives, I would kill you.” You four continue to try to have a light conversation until you come upon Yuta’s unconscious body. Toge helps you sit on the ground and you move his head onto your lap, muttering about checking for a concussion. All of you needed medical attention but you were desperate to help any way you could now.

Yuta begins to blink his eyes open and sits up urgently. “Your wounds… Panda! Your arm!” He seems to be working himself into a frenzy. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder as Panda explains that everyone will be okay. Yuta urgently looks over you, trying to determine how much blood was yours, before he seems satisfied.

“Thank you for saving us,” You whisper. His eyes fill with tears and you wonder how scared he must have been. You maintain eye contact, hoping to communicate how much you admire him, before Rika’s jumbled voice makes the both of you jump. Yuta stands, leaving the circle your class formed around him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Rika,” he says, approaching her.

“What’s wrong?” Maki asks, a little fearful at how resigned Yuta looks.

Yuta hums a little before answering, “In exchange for her power, I promised to go with her.”

“What?” You screech and the suddenness of the yell pains your wound. Your classmates join a chorus of disagreement. Panda and Inumaki both grab fistfuls of his shirt to prevent him from walking any closer to Rika. Instead of her usual retaliation for someone restraining Yuta, her form just falls away to reveal a young girl. Four of you are confused but Yuta just mumbles, “Rika?”

A clapping distracts from the drama. You turn as best you can with a hole in your stomach to see your brother without any eye wear approaching your group. “Congrats. You broke the curse,” he continues to clap and stands next to you.

“Who’re you?” Yuta and Maki ask, causing you to snort before you groan at the pain.

Your brother pouts before replying, “Everyone’s favorite good-looking Gojo-sensei. Do you not see the sibling resemblance?” He gestures between your face and his, before carefully putting you on his back. He doesn’t even flinch at the grime covering you transferring onto him as well, relieved to see you awake and alert. You rest your chin on his shoulder and listen to him explain.

“I thought Yuta was interesting, so I looked into his lineage. Apparently, you’re a descendant of Michizane Sugawara. So, super-distant, but we’re relatives!” You groan and hide your face in Satoru’s neck; the teasing to come will be unbearable.

Your classmates look dumbfounded at the information while Yuta just goes, “Who?”

“One of Japan’s big three vengeful spirits.”

“A big-shot sorcerer.”

“Tuna.”

“The annoying side of the family,” you add.

Your brother takes back control of the conversation. “Yuta, you’re right. Rika isn’t cursing you, you cursed her. When the curser severs the bond tying servant to master and the cursed doesn’t desire punishment, the curse is broken. Though it seems you figured that out by yourself.” He gestures at the little girl and Yuta.

“Oh my god,” Yuta collapses in tears. “It’s all my fault…. Hurting so many people, Geto coming after me, it’s all my - all my -” He begins to hyperventilate. Inumaki takes a step to comfort him, but before he can, Rika approaches and hugs his trembling form.

“Thank you, Yuta. For giving me time and letting me be by your side. I’ve been happier these past six years than I ever was alive. Good-bye, be well. And don’t come over too soon, ‘kay?” She gives a bright smile, toothy and pure as she dissolves into bright ashes. Yuta stares at where she stood, long after all the ashes disappeared and everyone else walked away.

“See you,” He says to himself, before getting up to follow his friends to Doctor Ieiri.

[tsukibraun]

Pragma Love; Jean Kirschtein x reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

type: series, blurb

summary: you and jean slowly develop feelings for each other over time, but you both quickly learn that love isn’t as easy as you thought

warnings: feelings of worthlessness (you get better in the end tho cause you’re a legend, obviously)

listen to: Crush- Yuna, Usher

part 1/2

read part 2 here!

Self-worth is a tricky thing. You have to know when to be humble and when to humble others. You have to be able to determine what’s just a small flaw in someone’s personality and what’s them trying to walk all over you. You have to have enough love and respect for yourself without becoming a complete narcissist. You have to know what type love you deserve and how to reject the love you don’t like. And when someone tries to challenge your worth, you have to be ready to honestly defend yourself.

This is something you’d struggled with for a long time. It wasn’t easy being able to discern people’s intentions or to come up with a reason for why they treated you the way they did. Yeah, sure, this person could just be a total jerk, or you could’ve done something to deserve the harsh treatment. Maybe you really hurt them without realizing; maybe they’re just reacting that way to defend themselves. They could be a bad person, but what if it was the other way around? You never wanted to assume anything about anyone, but in recent years you’ve learned that sometimes that’s what you have to do.

That was the first thing you noticed about Jean. You witnessed the fight he’d had with Eren in the lunchroom one night. They both retaliated back at each other, but there was something different about the way he was doing it. Eren was clearly angry and wouldn’t let someone challenge his opinions, but Jean- Jean was beyond confident. He wasn’t threatened at all by Eren or his opinions; in fact, it seemed Jean knew he was right, at least in his head, and didn’t mind letting someone know that. He was confident in himself, like he knew he’d come out as the victor; but even if he didn’t, you had a feeling he wouldn’t be too bothered by it. He seemed like the type to just be proud of making his point.

At that time, you couldn’t imagine getting into an argument like that with someone. If they disagreed with you, even if you were clearly right, you would just let it go. ‘There’s no reason to put up a fight’, you’d say, ‘they have a valid reason to think what they think’. Even if they persisted after you clearly would not retaliate, you’d either end up agreeing with them to get them off your back or just sit and take it. Confrontation wasn’t an option and must be avoided at all costs, even if you weren’t the one that started it.

That was the first thing Jean noticed about you.

You were very quiet and laid-back; you often didn’t say much when you guys were in groups. You would just sit back and listen, quietly laughing at jokes from time to time. You weren’t quiet forever, though. After a couple of months you started to open up more; not too much, but it was progress. Little by little you would start to engage in group discussion, agreeing with someone, cracking a joke, or adding to the conversation in general. He thought it was so weird. You clearly had a lot more to say but you just...didn’t. You always bit your tongue and let someone else say it, or just let the idea disappear entirely. He didn’t pester you at first, though. He wanted to see how you would come out on your own.

There was one night, though, where he was really irked by your shyness.

It was late the night before an expedition. You guys were supposed to be asleep by then, but the night before a mission is always a restless one. While some scouts were responsible enough to get some shut eye, you, Jean, Berdolt, Reiner, Mikasa, Eren, Sasha, Krista, and Ymir had other plans. All of you sat in the lunchroom, making casual conversation. It was simple things, like games you would play as kids, things you hated, funny stories from before you became scouts. Eventually, though, you began to discuss your current reality. At first it began with the EDM gear, talking about improvements, how hard it was to use, what you liked about it, etc. Then you came to the topic of Titans. Many different things were talked about here, but there was one question that made everyone tense up: If you could only save your family or fellow cadet, who should you pick?

Ymir asked this question, of course, smirking at the change in atmosphere. This was a very sensitive question for many reasons, but you didn’t think too much of it. Everyone is different with their own experiences and reasons for why or why they wouldn’t do certain things. Eren was the first to answer. “What kind of question is that? You’d save your family, obviously.” No one answered for a while, each person contemplating their answer. “Do you guys seriously have to think about this?” Eren pestered. Finally, Jean answered. “As much as I can’t stand you, Eren, I’ll have to agree with you on this one.”

Everyone else began to give their answers and it started a small debate, but you were still thinking. Jean wondered if you were just gonna sit this one out again, and honestly the idea irritated him. But to his surprise (and everyone else’s) you gave an answer. “I’d save the cadet.” Everyone went quiet and stared at you, somewhat because they were shocked you answered, and somewhat shocked of your answer. Eren in particular didn’t like it. “Are you serious? You’d pick a soldier over your own family?” The tone in his voice made you anxious, but you still decided to explain yourself.

“Well, it’s not like I don’t love my family or anything but...in most cases, the cadet is more important...in practical ways at least. I’d obviously try to save my family afterwards but-“

“How heartless are you?” He interrupted. You felt a lump form in your throat as you predicted the confrontation that was about to ensue. “How could you say that? A soldier is more important than your mother, then? Sister? Father?” You gulped, trying your best not to freak out in front of everyone. You took a couple seconds to make sure he was done before speaking again. “Well...I don’t really view you all as just soldiers,” you trailed off looking at your feet, “I do care about all of you. I don’t hold the people I care about one against the other. I care for each of them all the same.”

“So, in this certain scenario, although I would never want my family to die, saving the soldier is more practical. They’re an extra set of hands, skill, thinking ability- we all know how devastating it is to lose a soldier. Everything becomes incessantly harder. What if they were really needed for future fights? What if they were an important asset? And, if I were able to save them, they could help me possibly save my family.” You finally looked up for a second, seeing everyone’s reaction to your words. You immediately looked somewhere else so you could finish your point.

“Saving a cadet isn’t just saving them, it’s also saving the rest of us. If I were to go after my family, what other things would I miss? More Titans coming? A retreat?A change of plan? And even if I did save them, it’s another liability.” You finally looked Eren in the eyes, seeing his clenched fist and strong glare. “Unfortunately, in this world, we can’t always go after what we want. Sometimes we have to go after what we need, even if that means losing something we want. Our decisions don’t just affect us- they affect everyone.”

A long silence followed the end of your tangent. This was the most you’d ever said in one go, and they didn’t quite know how to take it. They didn’t know you had such detailed thinking, either. They shared glances with each other before some began to speak again. “You know,” Berdolt said rubbing his chin, “when you put it like that, I can see your point.”

“Yeah,” Krista agreed, “I’m not sure I would do the same thing, but I can see where you’re coming from.” Eren scoffed. “You guys are delusional. The only reason you’re agreeing with her is because you pity her.” You straightened up, palms sweating. He could be right; you saw the looks on their faces when you were done. They could just be trying to keep you from feeling dumb. Before you could say anything else, Jean came to your defense. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, cocking his head to the side and leaning forward.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Eren continued, “the girl never says anything!”

“And so what if she doesn’t,” Jean asked, “she’s not bothering you. Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t-“

“Then leave her alone,” he interrupted, “She’s allowed to have her own opinion just like the rest of us. If you’re gonna get that pissed about it, maybe you should go to sleep.” Eren quickly stood up, ready to fight with Jean again, but Mikasa quickly stopped him. You looked between the two of them not quite sure of what to do; you decided not to say anything more to Eren since you had clearly made him upset. Instead, you quietly tapped Jean’s arm and gave a quiet “Thank you.” He gave you a small smile. “Don’t mention it. You know, though,” he said leaning closer to you, “you really need to learn to stick up for yourself. You can’t be so quiet all the time or else stuff like this is gonna keep happening.” He was so close you swore he could hear your unsteady heart rate; still, you returned his word with a small smile and nod.

Ever since then, you two were close.

It wasn’t necessarily a closeness that was outwardly established between you two, it was just there. If he saw you getting anxious, depending on the situation, he would invite you over to where he was. If not, he would give you a certain look, similarly to asking if you were okay or telling you everything was okay. You sat close to each other during meals; if one of you had a smaller portion than the other, you would give a piece of your meal without saying anything. You made sure you were in eyeshot of each other, whether that be on an expedition or simple training. It wasn’t an obsessive thing, just comforting.

Being around Jean made you open up more. Slowly, you began to be okay with showing others who you were. You began to talk louder, laugh more, speak your mind (with tact, of course), and stand your ground. It wasn’t to Jean’s level, but it was there. You noticed other small differences, too. If you needed help with something, you weren’t afraid to ask for it. You could come into a conversation without overthinking it. You began to speak to other people first instead of waiting for them to speak to you. You could walk up to a group of people without feeling like you were intruding. You were able to really live, now. And it was with his help.

The more you came out of your shell, the more Jean absolutely adored you. Sometimes he would be the one to sit back and observe; he would watch you talk and laugh with everyone and be completely infatuated with you. Your laugh, your smile, your humor, your kindness, your little mannerisms; the more and more he was with you, the more he realized he was in love with you. Completely in love with you. So much so it actually started to hurt.

Although he loved being around you, knowing that any of the cadets could have a chance of sweeping you off your feet frustrated him. Since you came out, everyone noticed your charm. The boys had complimented you a couple times, to which Jean told them all to shut up. He wanted to tell you how he felt, and he eventually would, but he had no idea when. He had to use tact like you did so you wouldn’t be too shocked and reject him, but he wasn’t quite sure how. Although you two were close, he had no idea what you wanted in a guy, especially not how you’d want to be confessed to. You didn’t seem to want much from anyone, but there was a part of you he didn’t know yet; the romantic part- that part of you with anyone was completely closed off. He didn’t want to ask you, either, because it was clearly something you weren’t too comfortable talking about.

He had no idea what to do, which was a pretty rare occurrence, at least when it came to women. Either way, he was going to tell you. He just had to figure out when.

Meanwhile, you were completely ignoring your feelings for Jean. Although you were a lot more open with everyone, there were certain parts you kept from them, even from yourself. You noticed the butterflies in your stomach, a different type of longing for his presence, him popping up in your head at random times. You knew how you felt about him, but you continued to lie to yourself. “It’s nothing,” you’d say, “I’m just overthinking it.”

You’d noticed him staring at you with a certain look in his eyes; the way he’d smile at you, the way he’d purposely brush your hands together when walking by, him being more protective and watchful of you- it was little stuff, but clearly different than what it’d been before.

And you absolutely loved it.

You didn’t notice, but you began to do the same thing. Smiling at him if you saw him sleep, fussing at him if he ever got hurt, making sure he had everything he needed at all times, fixing his collar or hair when it was a mess; everyone else saw it except you.

One day you’d have to come to terms with how you felt, but until then, you’d deny the feelings every change you got.

***

uh...hi!! this is something pretty different from what i normally do 😅 i’m not too comfortable writing stuff like this but i’m trying my best! hopefully this was a nice introduction to this series. anyways, if you read all of it, thank you sm!! i can’t tell you how much i appreciate it. take care and stay safe!<333