#what really gets me is that they haven't even known each other for a whole year

[neverevan]

we talked about Eddie holding Buck's hand, but not about the gentleness of his other hand on Buck's ribs and I'm crying into my pillow as we speak

[aspirationalpeony]

Lucky Me

Summary: You and Mel do a little experimenting after she shares a disappointing truth about her past relationships. Content Warnings: Lots of smut. :) This fic is loosely set in the same world as "Finding Beauty," but can be enjoyed independently. AO3 Link

"He wasn't good at it," Melissa says. "Joe. Makin' me come." She blushes.

It's so not her--tough, capable Melissa, fearless and demanding. You touch her cheek, brush a strand of red hair back behind her ear. She hasn't had a touch-up in a while, and there's a streak of gray growing in at her temple. You love that she can be vulnerable with you, admitting these little truths about herself, in words, in body.

"Really?" you say. You have a well, duh moment in your own head: the last time you saw Joe, he interrupted you constantly, derailing your thoughts to tell his own stories, never letting you get to the punchline of a joke. He just feels like a bad lover, inattentive and untrustworthy. Plus, you know the stuff he said to Melissa about her body.

"Yeah." She plays with the band of her smart watch, then leans forward off the couch toward the coffee table, picking up her wine glass. (It's a weeknight, so the liquid inside is grapefruit-flavored sparkling water.) "And 'specially later on, I couldn't get wet, he'd get so frustrated."

"Even though you were telling him what to do?"

Putting her glass back down, she cuts a look at you for the assumption, but it breaks out into a smile, a little sheepish. Your heart does a flip-flop at the sight. "Well, yeah."

Your fingertip traces the shell of her ear. She shivers. You can't believe Joe would get frustrated, impatient, bored of trying to give this woman pleasure. Every inch of her has some private sensitivity: the lobes of her ears, the small of her back, behind her knees, below her navel. Getting to learn these secrets has been the most incredible privilege. And it's been fun.

It's taken her a while to learn to let you, rather than tell you; to give you a chance to explore. She's so used to controlling every moment, organizing her own pleasure and yours. You love when Melissa is the boss, but you also love when she gives up the authority; when she melts into the feeling and lets you be in charge.

"What about Gary?" you ask.

She snorts. "Gary who?" Her mouth twists and she shakes her head, at the question, at herself. "I mean, sometimes I'd take his mustache for a ride, but that's about it. He didn't have, y'know. It." Her eyes flick up to yours again. You haven't missed the way they've been down this whole time, unable to hold your gaze; how her chin is tucked toward her chest, her shoulders up. "It doesn't... Bother you? Talkin' about them?"

You check in with yourself, but end up shrugging. "Not really." You've spent time with Melissa and Joe together, and there's no heat between them, just the friendly chemistry of two people who've known each other half their lives. Gary you did see once, and he looked kind of like an uncooked ham. What is there to be jealous of?

You study her face. She's still pink and a little twitchy. "Does it bother you? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You drop your hand to her nape, rubbing your thumb comfortingly along the column of her neck. She sways into you with a sigh.

"I wanna," she says. "Talk about it. I feel like I..." Her lips pinch. "Owe ya."

"No," you say, straightening up. The plastic of the couch creaks with your movement. "Melissa, you don't owe me anything. I want to talk about it if you do, but--"

"Nah, that's--" she shakes her head. "It's not what I meant. I mean, I... It's like, it's a part of... Me. Y'know." She pushes her hair back from her face. "And 'cause I love you, and--" she laughs a little--"cause you're stuck with me, I..."

Your always-active heart gives a tremor, hearing the cautious vulnerability of her voice. You slide your arm around her and pull her in.

"It ain't that big a deal," she says, muffled, lying, against your shoulder.

Even if she can't admit it--your tough-girl sweetheart, not wanting to let her soft heart show--you can. "It is to me," you say, and squeeze her.

You loosen your grip, and she tucks herself against your side. It always surprises you how small she really is. Every day she's like a cat that's making itself big, back up, fur on end, daring anyone to come at her; here she gets to shrink back down, turn back into herself, become your kitten.

"I don't get it," you say after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "It's fun making you come. I love it."

"Lucky me," Mel says, very smugly.

"I sometimes think about--" you stop. This really isn't the moment for your fantasies: yeah, you guys were talking about sex, but not in the dirty sense; it was Melissa sharing something important, something emotional, and...

"Yeah?" she says. Her voice has two registers when she's turned on: airy, almost girlish, usually when you've surprised her, and throaty, a rasp. Now it's that fainter, breathless one. The sound of it sends a tickling frisson down your spine.

"Um," you say, and it's your turn to blush. "I think about... A lot of things."

"I'm waitin'."

You huff an embarrassed laugh. It's one thing to fantasize, another thing to tell the object of your fantasy all about it. "Sometimes I think about," you say, and clear your throat, "how sensitive you are. And I want to know how many times I can make you come."

You can feel the way her breathing speeds up, her body against your side, but she doesn't speak.

"We usually stop at two," you say, "but I think you can take more. I think you can take a lot more. And--sometimes, I think about how little it takes, like, when you're right there. Like I can just breathe on your clit and you'll come. I think about getting you there and telling you 'no.'"

Her breath catches.

"I bet you'd go crazy." You're smiling a little. You touch your mouth, tapping your lower lip, thinking of it. "You'd cuss me out, you'd yank my hair. You'd probably try to finish yourself off. I might have to tie you up to stop you."

"Oh," she says.

You risk a glance at her face. She's looking up at you from where she's leaning against your side, her green eyes glassy, her cheeks pink, her lips parted.

"You like that, baby?" You slide your hand down her back and feel the muscles shift as she moves, pushing herself up, then throwing a leg over you, settling onto your lap.

Having her like this is perfect. She used to hold herself up on her knees, not letting you take her weight, until you got her to understand that you loved the pressure of her body against yours, that there was no such thing as too much of her.

She dips her head and kisses you. It's not a starter kiss, warming you up; she kisses you like you're inside her now, deep and filthy, putting her tongue in your mouth with no foreplay. You groan as her hand cups your neck, feeling the prickle of her manicured nails against your skin.

"You think about me like that a lot?" she asks you when she's letting you catch your breath. The words are low, your faces close, like it's a secret someone could overhear.

"Yeah," you admit. Your hands slide over her hips to grip her ass. She gives an encouraging little motion when you squeeze. "I love thinking about what I could do to you..." Her breath hitches again. "What you'd enjoy."

"You get off on it?"

"Yeah, I do," you say. "I get off on getting you off."

Her eyelashes flutter. She makes a noise like a whimper. You have a flash of inspiration, and before you can second-guess yourself, you take her hand from your neck, the other from your shoulder, and pull them behind her back.

She gasps. It's an arrow of electricity right to your clit. Her eyes open wide, searching for yours, as you gather her wrists into one hand. It's not a very strong grip--she could yank away from you easily--but it pulls her shoulders back and leaves her chest thrust forward.

"Is this okay?"

She nods.

"You have to tell me."

"It's okay," she says. Her voice has dropped into that second register of pure arousal, throaty and low. "It's... It's good."

"Did Joe ever do this to you?" You don't know what makes you bring him up. Not jealousy, but... Maybe curiosity. Maybe wondering if he ever took the time to catalogue Melissa's reactions, to think through what would really turn her on, if he ever gave that much of a shit.

She chuckles breathlessly. "Like to see him try," she mutters. Her blush is traveling down her throat and blotching her chest.

You follow its path to the three buttons at the front of her blouse. You watch her chest start to heave as you work them open with your free hand. They expose the center gore of her bra and a hint of the silky curve of its cups.

You palm one breast roughly, squeezing. She groans. You can just feel her hardening nipple through the layers of fabric separating you. You thumb it, pinch hard, to make sure she can feel it, turning her next moan into a whine.

Her hips rock into your lap, trying to get friction. You lean back to look at her: disheveled, red, her hair spilling everywhere, her lip gloss blurry from kissing.

"You're so fucking sexy," you tell her, voice low, making her moan again.

You'd love to finger her, but there's no lube, and she's in leggings pulled up high over her hips, with not a lot of room between the two of you to get inside them. You slide your hand between her legs and over her covered sex.

She pushes down into your palm, hard, as you nose the tender inner curve of one breast, tracing your lips against the edge of her bra. Pressing through her leggings, you can feel the plump shape of her cunt. You trace those folds down, then up, over her clit.

"Oh, fuck," she breathes as you start rubbing. "Oh, fuck..." She shifts restlessly; you think she might pull her wrists away, but instead she arches toward you, drops her head back, inviting a bite to her throat, which you give. You suck soft skin into your mouth, scrape of your teeth, nibble, move down, find another spot, repeat. You can't leave marks, but there are blotches of satisfying pink where you've touched her.

"You getting close?" You work your thumb against her clit.

"Uh huh," she says, weak and needy. She picks her head up again and there's a lost, fogged look of pleasure on her face as she meets your eyes.

You hold her gaze. "Tell me when you're there," you say. "When you're right there. Okay?"

Her brow creases as she tries to focus. You wonder if she's ever tried to do this before, parsing out stages to her pleasure, or if she's always just gone up and over, never thinking about how she got there.

"I--I--I think I'm--" her voice is wobbly.

You pull your hand away. She whines and her hips jab down toward your lap, seeking a touch that isn't there. You rub her thigh, slide your hand up, over the soft curve of her belly and down to press against her mons; her hips jolt again.

"Fuck you," she says feebly.

You rub your thumb back and forth, far above where she wants it. You know she can feel the contact here in her cunt, a phantom pressure to remind her how empty she is, how close she was.

"More?" you ask.

She squirms and nods. When you give her no response, she huffs a sigh, rolls her eyes, and says, "Yes, fine, yes, more, oh--shit--"

You've found her clit again. You know this time she'll already be sensitive, and she might not be able to tell you when you need to stop. You focus on watching her: the glazed look in her eyes before she shuts them, her parted lips, her frantic breaths, her rocking hips.

You time it; you pull your thumb away. She gives a frustrated cry and squirms in your lap. You take pity and give her a distraction, rubbing your cheek against her breast, finding the hint of her pebbled nipple, the one you neglected before, and biting hard. You feel the elasticity of her bra's cup more than you feel her flesh, muting the sting of your teeth, but it makes her keen.

"You've got no fucking clue how hot you are," you tell her. You bite again and tug, drawing out another delicious sound. "I haven't even taken your clothes off. Look at you. I want to do this to you forever."

Your thumb at her clit again, this time so lightly it barely counts. "You want to come, don't you?"

Her wrists twist in your grasp, but don't pull away. She says, all breathless, angry bravado, "What do you think?"

"I think I could stop right now." She gasps, though you don't stop gently rubbing her clit. "Even though I want to make you come. And after that, I want to take you upstairs and eat you out. I want to suck on you and get you all over my face. I want--"

"Oh, shit, I," she says weakly, her hips starting to twitch.

Realizing, you say, "Just from this?" She's really almost there again? "Fuck, you're incredible. Should I stop?"

"No," she whines.

"You want it harder?"

"Yes!"

You give her what she wants. Finally, she pulls her wrists out of your grip so she can grab your hand and shove it fully against her cunt, letting her ride your palm to her orgasm. Melissa's always noisy, but this time, she's loud, the sound of her desperate cry huge in the living room.

"Oh, fuck," she says faintly as she sags down onto your lap. "I, oh..."

"You did so good," you murmur to her and rub her back, grateful to have both hands again. She buries her face in your neck and clings to you, breathing hard. She mumbles something. "What, baby?"

She picks up her head a little. "I said, 'yeah, you too.'"

It makes you snort. It's a funny mix of tenderness, affection, and gratitude you feel, knowing that even after an orgasm that took her like a runaway train, she'll still make sure to remind you of your place. Can't ever get too smug around Melissa.

You trace a hand up and down her back, finding the hem of her blouse and rucking it up so you can touch her bare skin underneath. She's hot against your palm and it makes you sigh.

"You want to go upstairs and keep going?" you ask, mouth against her ear.

"I wanna recover first," she says blearily. "What the hell was that?" She sits up a bit in your lap and you have room to reach around her and pick up her water from the table.

"A little taste," you say.

She brings the glass to her lips and sips, eyes narrowed, watching you the way kung fu heroines watch their enemies, prepared to bust out their fists at any moment.

"Of what I've been thinking about," you add. You rub her lower back. "I think you liked it."

"I think you gotta be crazy to get off on somebody not letting you come," she says, then scowls. "Which I guess makes me crazy."

"I guess it does." You can't smother your smile. "You're okay, though?"

"What do you mean? I came, didn't I?"

"I mean, sometimes emotions can get weird," you say, "after doing that kind of stuff. You get a lot of hormones and chemicals in you and they can make you feel..." You shrug.

"You got a lot of experience with 'this kind of stuff'?" Now her gaze is accusing. "You been holdin' out on me?"

"No, not a lot of experience. A little, maybe." You hold her hips, rubbing your thumbs over their soft curves. "A little experience. And a lot of things I want to do to you."

Her whole body shudders. She reaches back to put her water down, then loops her arms around your neck and kisses you. It's her post-coital kiss, lazy and loving, the hunger more muted.

"Gee," she says breathlessly when you part, and repeats herself, a grin curving her lips: "Lucky me."

[muddyorbsblr]

bigger than the whole sky [rtc what if…?]

'relinquish the crown' masterlist See my full list of works here!

BE WARNED SPOILERS FOR THE LOKI SEASON 2 FINALE AHEAD

Summary: What if…you'd broken Frigga's memory spell without Loki? | Your search for your husband leads you to a peculiar void beyond the Nine Realms, to a place that vaguely resembles the Tree of Life that you'd only read about in historical texts.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: angst with no happy ending in sight; this is in the RTC universe so…themes of incest if you squint; Loki S2 finale spoilers; slight violence in the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: gonna repeat it again…Loki S2 finale spoilers ahead; no prior reading of RTC is required to suffer enjoy reading this story

"I will ask you one final time, you sadistic hedonist," you panted, taking a moment to lean on Stormbreaker while the eccentric tyrannical leader of Sakaar laid bleeding on the ground. One hand clutched his abdomen where you'd struck him, the other gingerly held his broken nose.

This wasn't something that you enjoyed doing, putting others through pain. But knowing Loki's history with this Grandmaster long before you two had met was easing your worry somehow that you were doing something reprehensible. There were pains that your beloved, even after all the time you'd known each other prior to your betrothal and marriage, were not quite ready to share with you.

His time in Sakaar was among those pains.

That knowledge alone was enough to get you to stop catching your breath, marching over to the Grandmaster and pinning him to the ground with the end of your battle axe's handle.

"Where is Loki?"

"Lady, I already told you back in the viewing box, I haven't seen your u--Agh!" You pressed Stormbreaker's handle harder against a tender spot on his shoulder, his body visibly showing signs of surrender before he started tapping on the floor. "Alright I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whined.

"Shall we try this again, then?" He did his best to nod his head, sighing heavily. "Where did you last see him?"

"I swear to you on my Champion's grave it's been millions of years for me here in Sakaar," he choked out, still audibly struggling to draw in his breath. "It was a time he didn't even know you yet. You probably hadn't even been born."

"So you truly bear no knowledge of my husband's whereabouts?"

"Your hus--I thought he was--"

"Mind your words, charlatan god." He let out another groan of pure agony as you pressed harder on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry! I--I really don't know where he is, Your Highness, I don't--"

"Then what use are you to me," you said darkly, another corner of your soul feeling ass if the lights had gone out. Another dead end.

You took a dagger out with your free hand, the Grandmaster's pleas of mercy sounding muffled as they fell on your dulled ears. Nothing he had to say could spare him now; to you, he was no longer a lead, a well lit path that could perhaps point you to where Loki had been all this time.

Now he was simply a shadow of your husband's past. Something so dark that he didn't even dare let you know about it.

Despair began to seep into your veins, a single question overtaking all other remotely coherent thought. Would you ever find him? Would you ever get to apologize? To tell him how you felt? How you'd always felt?

Before you could strike, a loud crack resounded throughout the Grandmaster's suite, coming from a glowing green portal that appeared in the center of the room.

"I would probably take that call, if I were you," the Grandmaster quipped, exhaling a large sigh of relief when you removed the weight of Stormbreaker off of him as you stepped toward the portal. Once the threshold had begun to close after you stepped through, he let out a final sentiment. "Please say hello to your husband for me when you find him."

That was more than enough for you to decide throwing your dagger into the small opening that remained, hitting the smug anachronistic bastard on his uninjured shoulder.

Then the portal finally closed, leaving you in a place you couldn't quite describe. All you knew was that it felt like a place you should never have been allowed access to. A place that should be beyond you. Beyond anyone.

Winding, glowing vines surrounded you, each of them looked and sounded as if they were teeming with a life of its own. If you listened carefully you could hear voices. Your voices. Infinite iterations of them. But one rang clearer than every other in the entire space.

"Did I do something that angered the Norns so fiercely that they condemned me to love a man I could never have?"

"I know what it feels like to kiss him. To touch him. To be desired by him. And it's ripping me apart to know that I will never know that again."

"The people will look at this union and see it for what it is. Sinful. Shameful!"

You tried to block the memories out of your mind, of you begging your grandmother Queen Frigga to lock your memories away. Of arguing with your grandfather Odin and with your father Thor because they were signing your life away to marry Loki. Of the harsh words you spat at them all behind closed doors.

Of the day the lock on your mind finally broke, after finding your journals prior to the spell being cast chronicling how you'd fallen for the god despite your better judgment. The head-splitting agony of your memories reconciling and finding their place back in your mind.

An agony suffered in your lonesome while Loki was away on assignment.

You scrambled desperately to think of anything else, to follow along the path of the vines and hear something other than your own mistakes being echoed back at you. These desperate attempts made you realize that the vines converged in a structure that eerily resembled an image that you'd only learned about in your youth.

"Yggdrasil?" you whispered in awe, your feet bringing you closer still until you found a parting just large enough for one to squeeze through.

Once you'd finally freed yourself from the winding vines, all air left your lungs at the sight that greeted you. A golden throne at the heart of the tree. All the vines anchored to the man -- or God, rather -- seated in it.

Loki.

"You've left quite a trail of bodies in your wake throughout this quest of yours, little Princess," he spoke, not moving even a fraction from where he sat.

He gave you a soft smile, tears beginning to form in his eyes as he stared at you. As if he couldn't believe you were here with him.

"It's been too long, my darling wife."

You'd rehearsed time and time again throughout your search for your husband what you would say to him once you'd been reunited. You would tell him how wrong you were for how you behaved throughout your betrothal, your marriage. And you would abandon every shred of your pride and beg for his forgiveness. You would tell him you loved him, that you'd always loved him.

And that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

Yet somehow you could form none of those words. Instead you finally felt your body succumb to the tiredness brought about by the centuries you'd spent searching and laying waste to every imaginable corner of the Nine Realms and beyond for even the slightest shred of a clue as to where he could have been.

Instead you sunk to your knees, the tears streaming down your face as you stumbled over your words. "I remember everything. I had to find you. Tell you that I'm--"

"I know you are, my love. I watched you on the day the spell broke, the day you finally remembered. I wanted so desperately to come home to you. To not let you have to endure that pain alone."

"Why didn't you?" you blurted out, staring at all the vines he held in his hands. "What are all these?"

"Timelines," he answered you simply, giving you a minuscule shrug of his shoulders. "In every single one, there is an iteration of you and me. Some circumstances may differ, minor details. But at the heart of each of them, we live a life together. We find each other, fall in love. In some we even start a family."

"A family," you repeated breathlessly. The knowledge that each vine -- each timeline -- that was anchored to him held a variation of you and him, of your story, began to eat away at you, flooding you with guilt.

How wretched did you have to be that in your timeline you'd rejected him? Foolishly pushed him away with every mistake you made until finally it took you centuries to find him again?

"What happened?" you finally spoke after what felt like hours. "How did you get--"

"That is quite the long and harrowing tale, darling. In truth, it was a cavalcade of miscalculations and bad judgment calls, failed attempts of trying to save all these lives until I realized that the result would always stay the same if the equation contained the same variables."

"And what was that result?"

"Annihiliation," he answered you simply, giving you a misty eyed look. "Every single strand of time that I hold safe now would have been obliterated on sight. I know it. I've seen it. I've seen you disintegrate before me too many times than I wish to count. The device that once held them stable could no longer scale for an infinite number of possibilities, and letting countless timelines die in the name of the survival of a few was…unacceptable. The only thing that could carry a burden that great was--"

"A god," you finished, the words fighting you their entire way out, nearly choking you on the weight of them. The question that you wished to raise crippled you with its answer's implications. For you and your timeline specifically. "What happens if you let go?"

"It dies. Slowly. Drifts away until it eventually turns to ash." He began to make a motion, as if to approach you, until ultimately he decided against it. "This was the only way. It remains the only way. I must stay, and keep them safe. Watch our lives play out in derivatives of what ifs."

The selfish question that danced at the tip of your tongue plagued you with even more guilt. But what about my timeline? What about our life together? "There has to be another way," you grumbled, stubbornly shaking your head as if you were once again a toddler, refusing to accept the world for being what it was rather than what you wished it would be. "I could stay with you. I could stay and we can find a way together."

Your heart splintered watching him shake his head at you. "My beautiful headstrong wife," he breathed out, his tone filled with both fondness and heartbreak. "I can't in my good conscience let you abandon your life just so you could stay here with me. That would be too selfish, even for me. What would you have here?"

"You! I would have you. All these centuries I've spent in a desperate scramble to find you and tell you that I lo--" You found yourself completely choking on the words now, never having to articulate them before. "That I love you. That I've always loved you and I want us to start our lives together. I refuse to accept that after all this time I have to let you go. You can't make me."

"Asgard needs you, its future Queen."

"And I need you!" Your voice finally broke, sobs that you'd fought inside starting to bubble up. "It isn't fair that you hold all these different tellings of our story in your hands, but your story, yours and mine, ends in us apart. That you spend your days here, watching our life play out somewhere and somewhen else, and you're alone. Please don't send me away, husband," you began to beg. "Don't make me leave you. Let me stay."

He let out a sharp exhale, a tear escaping his eye, rolling down his cheek. "I've longed for the day I would hear you call me that," he sighed, a rueful smile gracing the handsome features that you were bereft of for centuries. "Truly I didn't think I would ever see you again, Y/N. My Y/N. I never thought that I would have you before me, and I hear those words you would only say in dreams with my own ears. Thank you, my dear heart. You have given me a gift in this quest of yours, in having a final moment with the woman I love…" More tears rolled down his cheeks when his smile widened before finishing his sentiment. "And the woman that loves me."

Your sobs filled the endless space, your body collapsing onto the ground as your grief overtook you. The notion of grieving for the living never seemed sensical to you until now. Now that the man, the god, you loved was calling this the last time you would ever see each other.

And you knew in your heart that with the power he wielded now, he could make that your reality without even lifting a finger. He could push you out of this void and back into any timeline of his choosing just as easily as he pulled you out of Sakaar.

The feel of familiar large hands pulling you up to your feet startled you, only having the briefest moment to look at your husband before he pulled you into a crushing embrace. You didn't think twice before wrapping your arms around him, holding him as close as you could and sobbing into his shoulder before realizing…

If his hands were on you, then why were the vines still in place?

"Loki," you sobbed. "Husband, please. No illusions."

"I can't hold you," he said, choking back his own sobs now. "I couldn't watch you break like this and do nothing." The duplicate he cast to hold you disappeared from your hold in a flash of green. "I've done it before against all my better judgment, I refuse to do it again."

"Then don't." Against your own better judgment, you stomped your foot, like a bratty child being told you had to go home. Which was almost precisely what this was. "If this is where you are and where you will remain, then this is where I wish to stay. With the god that owns my heart. With my husband." You blinked rapidly to expel the tears that blurred your vision before uttering the words that splintered at your heart even more. "I was made to be yours. You said that."

"And I yours," he finished, averting his gaze, letting his own tears drop to the fabric of  his trousers. "In every timeline. We must take solace in knowing that among these infinite tales, one is ours. What could have been ours."

"What should be ours," you insisted. You made your way over to him, placing your hand on the side of his face. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the sight breaking your heart further. "Our story deserves its bliss-laden epilogue, too."

"Not at the cost of everyone else's. Deep down you know this to be true."

"That does not mean I accept it," you grumbled. "Let me stay."

"You know that I can't. I will not subject you to live out the rest of your days here. Without friends nor family, and only a husband that cannot even hold you as company."

"But at least you would have someone to hold you," you argued, throwing your arms around him and letting your tears flow once more. "I can't just leave you here all on your own. You can't make me." You knew that he damn right could.

"My love," he sighed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "I wish for you to live a long, and fulfilled life. You've lost so much time in your search for me only for it to end like this. I can give you those centuries back, as a final gift. Reverse the clock, undo the toll it took on you. Let this be the final token of my affection. My fealty. My undying vow."

"Let me keep my memories," you pleaded, already feeling that this would truly be your final moments with him. You did not need to turn your gaze to know that the portal leading back to Asgard was there, waiting for you. Perhaps he would simply nudge you through with his mind, knowing that you would refuse to leave. "Let me keep my remnants of you if that is all that I can leave this place with."

He nodded once. "Very well, little Princess. When you walk through the portal only the physical years will be stripped away. Live well, and remember always that I love you. My heart will only ever belong to you. Until the end of time."

"I love you," you choked out through your tears. "Husband." Your heart ached at the sight of his tears, not bothering to fight back the urge to kiss them away. "I will miss you desperately and always. In every step that I must take in this life without you."

"You will always have me by your side," he swore. "When you feel a presence you cannot see, in gentle breezes within a still room. I will always be there."

You continued to wipe his tears away, the god constantly kissing at your palms. Seemingly refusing to let you go, too.

"May I kiss you?" you asked, barely audibly, your voice unable to even completely form the words. "One last time?"

He gave you a small nod, and you leaned in to press your lips to his, trying to pour out your years of lost time and the future that you were doomed to lose in just a few short moments into that single kiss. You could feel that when he kissed you back, he did so with both all the love he'd never been able to give you before, and the love that he would never be able to bestow in the future.

It was a kiss of finality. A kiss of goodbye. A bittersweet final page in the story of you and Loki.

I love you more than words can ever say, his voice echoed in your mind. Goodbye, my love. My fated. My darling wife.

When you pulled away he was gone. And you'd been returned to your shared chambers back in Asgard. As he promised, the physical toll the centuries-long search had taken on your body were gone. No more scars from miscalculated skirmishes. No more bruises from Sakaar.

No more physical reminders of what you'd endured trying to reunite with the love your life.

All that remained were the memories of those years, and your time in his domain beyond the Realms.

"Goodbye, my darling husband. My love. My Loki," you whispered into the quiet of your marital chambers, sinking to your knees once more and letting out a shriek of pure agony, the sobs swiftly returning and wracking your entire body as you lay pathetically on the floor.

"Y/N??"

The sound of your mother Lady Sif's voice provided little comfort, but it felt like a familiar balm. "Mother," you said weakly, unmoving from your spot on the ground even as she rushed to you, cradling you in her lap.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" She stroked your hair while your tears soaked her sleep dress. You felt her wave someone over, and moments later you felt your grandmother Queen Frigga's presence in the room with you.

"I lost. I lost and I know not what to do now," you managed to say through your tears.

"What did you lose, Daughter?"

You'd briefly considered explaining your journey, from breaking the spell, to your journey through the centuries, to Loki's domain beyond the reach of space and time. To relay what had become of your husband.

Ultimately the words were beyond you due to your grief.

"Everything," you answered her, holding on to her tight as if you were a child again. This would be the only semblance of comfort you would have. "I lost everything."

A/N: I had to after that finale had me processing and feeling the big sad all day, I promise I'm working on 2 other stories based on the finale that have kinda better endings.

Also I sobbed throughout writing this entire thing, just for the record.

Now here's the song to add to the vibe:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: (folded up and hunched over with chin in hands) (brooding)

Vaggie: "Someone's got a lovely long face today."

Charlie: (sighs) "Sorry..."

Vaggie: "Don't be, sweetie." (sits and hunches over too, hands clasped) "What's got you down?"

Charlie: "You, kinda."

Vaggie: "Me?" (terrified) "What did-"

Charlie: "And all this." (waves at vaggie next to her) "Specifically."

Vaggie: (edges away) "Is it the 'sweetie' thing? 'Cause I'll stop-"

Charlie: "No. No, I like it." (sighs again) "Vaggie, in the wonderful, amazing, dream-like over a YEAR we've known each other now, have you ever, like..."

Vaggie: (edging closer again) "...have I ever...?"

Charlie: "Killed anyone?"

Vaggie: "Wh- No!"

Charlie: "Not even a little?"

Vaggie: "What would 'killed them a little' even look like..? I mean, sure I've thought about maiming people, and probably would've a few times if you hadn't been there, but-"

Charlie: "What about when I wasn't looking? No... sneaking out for some midnight murder sprees?"

Vaggie: "Charlie- I can't even get up to use the bathroom without you tearing up half the bed with your claws looking for me. We've had to get new sheets three times this month. And last time I took a midnight shower, I found you curled up on the floor just outside the door afterwards. I almost STEPPED on you!"

Charlie: (pouting) "You were gone when I woke up."

Vaggie: "I was gone maybe ten minutes."

Charlie: "And I was missing you."

Vaggie: "Yeah. I figured." (smiles) "So how the fuck am I supposed to be sneaking out to kill people, when I'm best friends with the biggest cuddle bug in all creation?"

Charlie: "I don't know!" (frustrated) "NONE of this makes any SENSE!"

Vaggie: ".... now I feel like I'm missing something."

Charlie: "You're not though! That's why-" (GROWLS) (yanks at hair)

Vaggie: "Okay, hey- Charlie?" (takes her hand) "Talk to me?"

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "...why're you still here?"

Vaggie: "Do you... want me to move out?"

Charlie: "NO! Never! I, you- I don't even know how I'd-"

Vaggie: "So that's not the problem here. What is?"

Charlie: "The PROBLEM is- I want you here, but you shouldn't BE here! You're not a bad person! Whatever you did or used to do- you haven't been for a whole YEAR, and I'm just- just being stupid and selfish wanting you to stay, but you-"

Vaggie: "You're not-"

Charlie: "-aren’t doing anything bad! So WHY-"

Vaggie: "Charlie, hold on- no- you're not stupid or selfish. You've been alone, and that's not something you did anything to deserve, okay?"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "You can be sad without apologizing for it too, you know."

Charlie: (slumping) "Why are you still in hell, Vaggie?"

Vaggie: (wryly) "Not like I've got wings to flutter off with."

Charlie: "You deserve them."

Vaggie: "..... thanks for saying so, sweetie."

Charlie: "It's true."

Vaggie: “Pretty sure it’s not, since I don’t have them.”

Charlie: “You should. You should have them.”

Vaggie: “I’d rather have this.”

Vaggie: (lifts their hands)

Vaggie: “Who needs wings, when you’ve got the best cuddle bug ever. Right?”

Charlie: (holds tight) “…heaven’s probably better. Full of people you wouldn’t want to even maim. That’s where you belong, not down here in hell…”

Vaggie: “…with you?”

Charlie: “Oh I’d be fine!”

Vaggie: (lifts brow)

Charlie: “Really!” (looks away) “It’d be good. Knowing you’re up there in heaven, and, happy.”

Vaggie: “I wouldn’t be happy.”

Charlie: “Sure you would.” (miserable) “It’s heaven.”

Vaggie: “Hell’s better. It’s where you are.”

Charlie: “Vaggie…”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “Be serious? Please?”

Vaggie: “I am. But it's not gonna work if you don’t listen to it.”

Charlie: “Fine.”

Charlie: (deep breath) (looks vaggie in the eye)

Charlie: “Vaggie. Do you want me to try getting you into heaven?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: (voice crack) “Are you SURE?”

Vaggie: “I’m not going anywhere. I’d miss you too much.”

Charlie: “...okay.”

Charlie: (laughs wetly) “Okay. I’d. Same.”

Vaggie: “Yeah.”

Vaggie: (dabs away charlie’s tears)

Vaggie: “You’ve been feeling extra lonely haven' you, thinking about all that on your own.”

Charlie: “Maybe. A little.”

Vaggie: “…sorry I didn’t, you know. Make sure you knew sooner. ”

Charile: (laughs for real) “Don’t be. Not like I asked.”

Vaggie: (smiles) “Sorry for making you feel like you even had to ask.”

Charlie: “Um. Uh.” (clears throat) “You’re forgiven?”

Vaggie: (chuckles)

Charlie: “…and, you’ll tell me, if you change your mind? About the whole heaven thing?”

Vaggie: “I won’t change my mind, Charlie.”

Charlie: “But if you do, you’ll say so?”

Vaggie: “Mmm, kinda feels like you’re saying it like you think I will.”

Charlie: “No. I mean you can, I just… don’t wanna worry about it like this again.”

Vaggie: “Oh. Then I promise-”

Charlie: “Thank you.”

Vaggie: “-if you promise me you’ll let me know what’s going on in that brilliant head of yours.”

Charlie: “Pfft- More silly than brilliant. Didn’t wanna bother you.”

Vaggie: “Bother me? Now you're really sounding silly. You’re not the only one who’s been lonely.”

Charlie: “Huh? You? Why were you- Ohhh…”

Vaggie: “You’ve been a million miles away lately. Welcome back.”

Charlie: “Aww Vaggie! Were you missing me, even when I was right in front of you???”

Vaggie: “Don’t even.”

Charlie: “That’s so cuuuute~”

Vaggie: “Don't. You've been worse. You were impersonating a rug- You clung on so hard after I picked you up I couldn’t even get the blankets over us again.”

Charlie: “Lucky I make a good blanket!”

Vaggie: “The best. But you still gotta stop sleeping in front of the bathroom door.”

Charlie: “I can, try?”

Vaggie: “Is it really that hard to stay in a warm soft bed?”

Charlie: “It is when you’re not there!”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, please. I’ll be coming right back.”

Charlie: “…then I can wait.”

Vaggie: “Good.”

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: “Probably. I think I can probably wait.”

Vaggie: “Ugghh...”

Vaggie: (playfully bumps shoulders) (leans in as charlie hugs her instead)

[sundrop-writes]

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson

Season One, Episode One: "Titans"

Summary:

You and Dick haven't spoken since the Titans parted ways in San Francisco five years ago.

Even though you used to be as close as two people can be, both of you are doing just fine leading your own separate lives - until your psychic powers cause you to have a vision of the end of the world, and you have to turn to him for help. As much as Dick doesn't want to get involved, you know that him leading The Raven on the path she needs to travel is the only way to stop the terrible fate you saw.

He wants to deny it, and stay as far away from you as possible - but he can't avoid you or the truth that you have told him when he runs into that very Raven you speak of in an interrogation room later that night. He has to face a simple truth he has always known: you're always right.

Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 1.

Word Count: 2,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns (some people might accuse the reader character in this story of being more of an OC and I am okay with that - I try to make all the reader characters in my other stories as blank and open as possible and every now and then I let myself have a little bit of a treat) - but as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - I might make a separate post detailing the reader's entire backstory and power set (or I might just let it be spelled out slowly through the chapters) - but for now, I will tell you that the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; mentions of canon-typical violence; this fic does use Y/N; mentions of the reader being shot during a past undescribed incident; there is references to sex and discussions of sex, but no explicit smut (but there might be some later in the story? idk yet); emotionally constipated Dick Grayson; idk what else ? - pining, emotional angst, using humor to deflect emotional tension, banter. I just really like the vibes of this. there is not a lot of big content warnings for this fic (yet).

A/N: Honestly, I am really excited about this one. I have a lot of ideas for future episodes (especially the episode where Dick loses it emotionally and just gets followed around by a hallucination of Bruce for the entire episode - but that's not until Season 2, oop). Titans is one of my favourite series ever - if you couldn't tell - so getting to examine each episode closer and appreciate each individual episode as a unique piece of art while writing this instead of binging a whole season gives me a whole new appreciation for the show. I hope you guys enjoy these as they come out - especially because I do have an idea of where this fic is going, but I don't know where I want these characters to go in Season 4. (I kind of want to do a secret surprise reveal of two of the characters being related and being siblings, but... idk. Sometimes people don't like that.) But this is definitely a good opportunity to send me ideas of where you want this story to go/how you want it to end up. Anyway - please enjoy!!!

....

Dick needed some fucking air. 

He could barely fucking handle today. He had to compose himself before he lost it and started breaking things. It was all such a shitshow - the department pushing a new partner on him, footage of Robin all over the news, every other half-cocked beat cop making comments about how Robin was just another masked psychopath who wasn’t that different from The Joker. 

Fuck them. 

If they only knew what Gotham was like - if only they had to deal with a department full of asshole’s on the Joker’s payroll. If only they had to watch criminals walk away because they made bail on the decision of a corrupt judge. If only they had to sit behind a desk and listen to a mother’s sobs as she begged for him to find her missing child - knowing how many people elbow to elbow with him would laugh at her tears rather than start looking. 

If they only spent one night tending to civilians while the smell of burning flesh permeated the air, with the Joker’s screaming laugh stuck in their ears because he thought that bombing a low-income housing complex was just that funny. 

Fuck all of them. 

Dick clenched his fist tight - his knuckles aching as he resisted the urge to drive his arm right through the glass at the front of the precinct. He just - he really needed some air. 

Dick walked out the front doors (rather than smashing the glass), and took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying his best to calm down. It was getting late, and things were relatively slow, even for it being a Tuesday. No influx of late-night chaos yet. He had some time to collect himself before- 

“So - Robin’s in Detroit now, huh?” 

That voice. 

Dick felt the sting of familiarity pluck at his spine, and he whipped his head around at lightning speed, looking in the direction of the voice. Surely enough - you were the one standing there. It hadn’t been some kind of auditory hallucination on his part. 

So much for time to calm himself down. 

He was immediately met with a confliction - lust and annoyance bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to see you again, he didn’t want you to be here, especially not without warning. But you looked so damn good - it was a distraction from that fact. 

That was always the thing about exes, wasn’t it? 

(If Dick could even call you his ‘ex’ - the two of you had slept together more times than he could count, both metaphorically and literally, but the two of you had never put an official label on the relationship like he had with Dawn or Barbara. He cared for you like a friend, and like a lover in a way that he was never willing to admit - but did that make you his ex? Especially if he never stopped caring about you?) 

That thing about exes being: they always look so fucking good when you see them after a long time of being apart. The universe dangling something in front of you that you’re not allowed to have and technically, should no longer want. 

But oh - Dick found himself wanting so very badly. (And he tried his hardest to hide that fact as he continued to carefully stare you down.) 

Because you looked so good. 

You were wearing something of your usual style - an outfit of many confusing layers that somehow showed off the natural curves of your body and hid you all at the same time. 

A long skirt with a ruffled hemline and bold, colorful pattern. A pair of boots that you had probably gotten from some vintage store that were likely older than both you and Dick, leathery and well worn in. Your jacket was much the same - a supple brown leather with a soft fur lining that made you look very warm and cozy. 

Topped off with a pair of the largest, gaudiest dangling earrings that Dick had ever seen - the kind that would have gotten snagged on one of his nice shirts and gotten the two of you tangled up during one of your hook-ups. A pair of earrings that he would have scolded you for wearing - but he would have delighted in finding them on his bedroom floor after you left because it meant having a piece of you still with him. And it would mean having an excuse to visit you later because he had something of yours to return. 

Those earrings glistened in the light of the street lamps, just as your eyes did while you stared him down with those inquisitive, knowing eyes. Looking at him with that same expression you always wore - the one that seemed to say you knew everything that he never would. It equally fascinated him and infuriated him. 

He hated the fact that you had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing his heart to race - had you snuck up on him on purpose? Did you find it funny? 

“Y/N,” Dick said your name curtly, still feeling a slight twinge of shock that you were standing in front of him at all. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

You let out a dry chuckle, and stepped closer to him, making his whole body stiff. His first instinct was to step backward - to gain more distance from you. But he didn’t want to seem like he was afraid of you - afraid of that closeness. So he forcefully locked his legs and stayed in place as you drifted closer, and you idly conversed back. 

“Oh, Dickie.” You sighed in return, using his childhood nickname. “A warm welcome as always.” 

Dick rolled his eyes at this. Did he really need to bother with manners and formalities? The two of you had known each other for so long, he guessed that you were both well over stuff like that. 

“Do I need a reason to be here? Can’t I just visit an old friend?” You posed, a humorous tone still running through your voice. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he took a more defensive stance. He quickly went from shock then to annoyance. 

The two of you were old friends - you had known each other since you were in diapers together. The two of you had grown up together, raised by a unique circus family. And that meant that Dick knew you well enough to know that if you were here, you had a good reason to be. 

(If you had wanted to chase him when he first left Gotham, you likely would have camped out in the trunk of his car, or you would have shown up at his new apartment the day after he moved in. You wouldn’t have waited this long to contact him.) 

“Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit, please.” Dick replied sternly. “Why are you here?” 

“Grumpy.” You sighed, sounding defeated. 

He waited for a moment, and surely enough - you folded, now willing to directly explain your reason for showing up in Detroit so suddenly. 

“I had a vision.” You explained. “A girl. The Raven. A lot of others consider her to be the eater of worlds, but she is the one who is going to save us all, Dick.” 

He let out a harsh puff of air, reaching up and running fingers roughly over his temple. Yup, there it was - the headache had fully set in now. He really didn’t need this. Not tonight. 

He had known about your visions for a long time. When he was younger, he had been shocked to find out that you had inherited your mother’s ‘gift’. He previously had no clue that her set-up as a sideshow fortune teller with Tarot cards and a large crystal ball wasn’t all psychology tricks and half-guesses she put on for tourists - but in fact, it was actually something informed by larger supernatural forces at play. And it was something you could do as well. 

So he was inclined to believe you when you told him about this vague vision, but he also didn’t want to be involved. He had a lot on his plate right now - he didn’t need this. 

“Look, I’m sure that whatever you saw was important, but-” He began. 

You sighed and shook your head harshly at this ‘but’. 

“Why don’t you just take it to New York instead? This kind of thing is way more Donna’s speed, anyway. I’m sure she can help you find this girl, and-” 

“That won’t help.” You told him. “The girl is already on her way here.” 

You spoke the words with such utter certainty, and it sent shivers up Dick’s spine. The calm, tranquil look on your face - the ominous wiseness you held: it reminded Dick so much of your mother. The other-worldly authority she held that had ultimately gotten her killed. It was strangely creepy. 

“Just so you know, I hate it when you say ominous shit like that.” Dick told you, gesturing to your person with stiff offense in his body. “Just because your mother played the creepy voodoo witch for tourists doesn’t mean you have to.” 

“I’m not playing.” You replied, exasperated. 

You knew that Dick could be frightened of your powers at times. He was someone very logic-based - he built his beliefs around facts. So having you follow your visions and your ‘gut feelings’ when they were never concrete, changing on a dime - he hated the uncertainty and chaos that came with it all. But you had learned to trust yourself and your feelings over time, even if he didn’t. 

“And you know, you’re involved in this whether you want to be or not.” You told him, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Robin made his first appearance in months last night.” 

Dick became stiff at this, and quickly glanced around - as though waiting for someone to appear out of nowhere and point an accusing finger at him, screaming out that he was Robin and he had been caught. 

“You can’t help it, Dick Grasyon.” You declared with intense certainty. “You need to save people, you need to feel like you’re making a difference, you-” 

“So what, now you expect me to save the whole fucking world?” Dick snapped back. 

“She does.” You corrected. 

“Who?” He replied - confused and once again annoyed at your mysticism and bold confidence in your visions. 

“The Raven.” You told him. “She needs you. And whether you like it or not, you need her.” 

You shifted your stance then, waiting for him to tell you that you were right - which was how most of your arguments ended. 

But then, as a sick reminder, the lapel of your jacket opened enough for Dick to get a glance at your chest. The neckline of your blouse was wide open, but his eyes weren’t drawn to your cleavage - instead, he became focused on a large scar that you had sitting over your heart. A place where a bullet had ripped through you, leaving you barely alive. 

He still remembered the feeling of your blood warm under his hands while you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, begging him to save you. He remembered sitting at your bedside, believing that you would never wake up again. 

He couldn’t help but to reach up and gently skim his thumb across the roughness of the scarred skin as he glared at it with a stiff jaw. The touch sent shivers through you - it was the first time he had touched you since that last night in Gotham, when you had woken up to an empty bed and absolutely no explanation as to where he had gone. 

Dick felt rage boil inside of him. 

How could you ask him to save the world when he had been responsible for this? 

This - this was why he was no fucking savior. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said, choking on the words slightly as he took his hand down, shoving it back into his pocket once again. He had to avoid the temptation of touching you any further. 

If you weren’t safe around him, why would some little girl from your visions be? 

“This isn’t about me.” You scoffed. “Or-” 

‘Or us.’ 

You held back, knowing how dangerous it was to mention the royal Us around flighty Dick Grayson. For a bird without wings, he was absolutely capable of taking off in a quick moment when he wanted to. 

“This is about something so much bigger.” You pressed. “She’ll be here soon.” 

Dick let out another strained sigh at you using such ominous words again. 

“Well, next time you’re gonna come here and be all ominous and creepy, you should at least bring some coffee.” He told you, sarcasm tight on his lips. 

You made a mocking face in return. 

“Well, you could be more polite.” You scoffed. 

Before Dick could recommend that the two of you go and get a coffee in order to truly catch up, someone called out his name, drawing his attention away from you for a moment. 

“Hey, Grayson!” Someone called, sticking their head out the front door. “Prentiss is looking for you!” 

When he turned back, you were gone. He tried not to linger on it too much - how creepy it was. You were silent and quick like a ghost - he thought that your ominous jewelry might jingle like a house cat’s bell. 

But - he would call you later. Hopefully you still had the same number. 

…

Dick walked into the interrogation room, trying to clear his mind of the interaction with you. When he saw a small, scared girl, he thought it best to lighten the mood with a joke. 

“Hi, I’m Detective Grayson.” He said, introducing himself. “I hear you like to play baseball with bricks and cop cars. You wanna tell me what happened?” 

“You’re him.” She said, whimpering and tearful. “You’re the boy from the Circus.” 

At first, Dick thought that everyone was simply being ominous and creepy today. But then he realized:

‘Oh fuck. You were right.’

...

A/N: Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.

While this is technically the first chapter in a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.

Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series (it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, etc.). Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.

If you enjoyed this - great, thanks. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it. But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things), and feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.

Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for avoiding my husband on purpose, like, all the time? my husband (m36) and i (f34) have been married for almost 10 years (anniversary in a few months). we have 3 kids (m10, f8, f1) and he works full time while i stay at home. even before we got married i didnt really have friends other than him, and i always had a hard time finding excuses to get out of the house. frequently, he gets to hang out with his buddies who he also works with, and ever since we had kids he's always going out and leaving me home alone even when hes not at work just to idk. hang out at bars and pretend we don't exist. well lately ive been making time for myself to go out when the kids are at school (my youngest is pretty well behaved so i just take her with me instead of paying a babysitter) and i had managed to get kinda friendly with some of the wives of my husbands coworkers (theyre all members of the same union, so we see each other at those functions every once in awhile). i thought it was all going well and i was having fun and enjoying getting to be social for once, but about 2 weeks ago, the whole family was invited out for lunch (a picnic type thing) with his buddies from work's families. all was going well and for the most part even the kids were having fun, but then my husband got absolutely fucking trashed for no reason. none of the other guys were acting like that, and we've had conversations about him not doing that sort of thing, but he NEVER listens. he's always acting like this, but usually i dont have to see when its in public. well he embarrassed me so fucking much. he was trying to start fights, messing up his clothes, and wouldn't listen to me at all. just in his own world as always. i should've known because its been a decade of this, but i could have sworn it wasn't this bad before. he wasn't like this when we dated you know? so we got home and i was just. grossed out and annoyed. i slept on the couch and pretty much ever since then, i haven't been talking to him. i got a text from one of the ladies saying that a wednesday hangout thing i had been invited to had been canceled, but i pretty much KNOW 100% that it wasn't, and that they just don't want to be associated with me now. the kids don't really seem bothered by the tension around the house (i think its sort of normal to them since hes frequently not around anyways). i wouldn't be near as annoyed if there wasn't a part of my brain telling me "he did it on purpose". i know that's just how he acts but i could SWEAR its almost like he just doesnt want me to have friends. he doesn't want to hear about it, he just wants me THERE at home, watching the kids and existing solely for his convenience. i used to consider divorce, before we had our youngest. but i haven't had a job since high school, and i couldnt put the burden of asking for help on my sisters. they hate him, but i couldnt ask them for that support. and i dont even know what the kids would think, i cant do that to them. but yesterday, my husband brought it up (cornered me in our room pretty much) and asked why i was ignoring him. what if he really didnt know why? i TOLD him, but its like he forgot or just expects me to be "over it" by now. all i wanted was just this one thing, to HAVE FRIENDS, have that time away from being just "mom" and do what i want. he gets to do that so why cant i? or AT LEAST he could put some more effort into being around and doing things as a family? but i still wonder if im being the asshole, for giving him the cold shoulder for this long. he didnt have a happy childhood or good examples for parents so maybe he just thinks this is normal? i never asked because i assumed he knew it wasn't. and he does seem like, disappointed that i wont come to bed. maybe ive been driving him off and that's why he doesnt like to come home? idk at this point, im at a loss. aita?

[prettynice8]

Happy Birthday Bitch

Min Yoongi or Suga or Agust D x male reader, haters to lovers

The birthday boy

Stuff: Swearing, bottom reader, top Suga, sub reader, dom Suga, homophobic Suga but it's ok it's internalized, kissing but like aggressive, hate fucking, doggystyle, male reader, dick sucking (Suga receiving), creampie, kinda gay ngl, non-idol au, college au.

Word Count: 1,509

Summary: You and Min really hate each other. Anyway, he is having a birthday party and your friend invited you. Then the birthday boy demands his present from you or something.

Notes: sorry I haven't posted anything in a while, I just didn't really want to. Also fun fact, Suga used to be my least favorite member, I just thought that he was kind of boring compared to the other ones, but then I saw him rap in the Butter music video and had an epiphany of biblical proportion. Oh and Happy Birthday Suga.

It is moments like these that make you really hate your friends. Not only are they attending HIS party, but those butt sluts also invited you to come along. Those bitches were fully aware of your utter disdain for that fucking shit eating brainless fucking fucker, and yet they asked if you wanted to go. You said yes nonetheless but that is not the point.

You could never say no to a fun party, and the prospect of getting railed tonight was admittedly very pleasant sounding. You were aware that even though you hated the guy, he was very popular for some reason that you could never grasp.

He was just another dude who had nearly no personality or substance. A dumb look on his face that makes all the stupid bitches fawn over for some reason. Like he is not even that hot, sure he has an ab or two but that is it.

These thoughts kept swimming through your mind as you opened the door to the party that you could hear from miles away. As you walked in the smell of alcohol and the sight of random flashing lights was almost enough for you to pass out, the parties should be, which is almost even more angering that it came from HIM.

You were a little late because you only decided a few minutes ago that you were actually going. You made your way to the previously mentioned asshole friends that were invited to this place, but you were stopped by the man of the hour himself, Min Yoongi.

"I thought I had a no fags allowed rule." Yoongi stated, laughing at his own lazy "joke" if you can even call it that. The sudden appearance makes you jump, causing him to laugh more.

"Ew why are you talking to me!" You remarked disgustingly. "Don't you have other people to bother?"

"None as fun as you." He said, the shit eating smirk already on his face.

"Get a life." You snap at him, growing angrier every second you are in his presence. Almost walking away until he walks right in front of you, stopping your escape.

"Why are you even here?" He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

"You invited the whole school you stupid bitch." You responded aggressively, wanting this fucker gone.

"Fucking cock sucker." He exclaimed, laughing once again.

"Was that supposed to be an insult because you're just stating the obvious." You responded matter-of-factly, causing his laugh to stop and his face to solidify. "Or are you trying to start something?" You then winked at him, enjoying the uncomfortable silence he is giving you.

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" He questioned back, his frustration growing as he stared daggers at you.

"Are you ever enjoyable to be around?" You asked, already knowing the answer being no. You try to walk away again but he grabs my arm and whispers in your ear.

"Why don't I make you." He started calmly. His voice actually sounded hot? Whatever it was, it did something to you. Confusion stirs inside of you as your mind races, though the inner turmoil is cut short when you feel something poking into your ass, already aware of what it is.

You let out a quick gasp, Min Yoongi, the man who hates you the most out of anyone you have ever known, is it hard for you? and you are getting turned by it? This must be a dream. Pinch me now.

"I'm going to do way worse." Yoongi stated. Wait, did he hear you, did you let that slip. What the fuck is happening. These thoughts spread through your mind, all of the noises and people all around you die down, Yoongi being the only thing on your mind.

"Let's go somewhere more... private." He ordered before taking your arm and leading you to his room

He brings you to his room, locks the door, and slams you into it, desperately kissing you.

His lips feel surprisingly good with your own, soft yet solid enough to leave quite the impact. You kiss him back just as desperately, your hands already going to take his shirt off, which he helps you with. Once it is off his lips crash right back on to yours where they belong.

He starts to become even more needy, diving his tongue into your mouth and exploring every part he can. His hands take your ass in vice grip as yours explore his broad and muscly torso, following each tone of his body.

"I still hate you." He said between tongue entanglements.

"Ditto." You said before diving right back in, but his hand stops you.

You let out muffled wails of confusion and frustration until he finally justifies himself. "I think your mouth can be used for more important things." was the last he said before bringing you to your knees.

Being an experienced little diva, you know exactly what to do. You strip his pants and boxers off in a single swipe. His throbbing member was already begging for your attention, you hated the guy but had to admit that he was packing some serious artillery.

Your hands begin to work on his shaft, pumping it slowly up and down while giving the tip light kisses, but that wasn't enough for him. So he shoves your head straight down onto his massive cock.

You take him so easily, his cock already all the way in. You begin moving your head up and down his length, the tip hitting your throat every time.

"God you're fucking good! I guess you had to be at something." He groaned, you respond by nipping him a little bit, which he responds with by fully fucking your throat.

He grabs your hair tightly and goes to mother fucking town. Thrusting his hips into your mouth, almost making you cum just from this, the thought of this monster going in your ass scares you so much it is sexual.

He finally starts emptying his balls into your throat, taking you off his dick. He doesn't even have to ask you to swallow before you have already done so.

"Fucking whore." He said as he picked you up and threw you onto the bed. Wasting no time with taking off your clothes, literally ripping your shirt in half.

"Hey!" You yell.

"You won't be going anywhere for a while, so shut the fuck up and get on your hands and knees." He demanded unapologetically.

You do exactly as he says, wanting to get fucked by his massive cock so badly it almost hurts.

He wastes no time with foreplay, only giving you one quick kiss which was surprisingly sweet, a spank, and he was off. He plunged is dick into you, bottoming out in one quick thrust.

Tears spilled from your eyes, but you can think about that right now when he is already going full force, fucking your ass like a semi-truck, that actually would be gentler.

He has a death grip on your hips that will absolutely bruise, he also keeps spanking your ass repeatedly leaving it bright red, his teeth also leaving love bites all over your neck, but you cannot thing about any of that when he is pounding into so hard, leaving all other sensations feel like child's play.

You would say that Yoongi is only chasing his own pleasure but then he starts pumping your painfully hard dick. He also occasionally plays with your sensitive nipples, how kind.

The sounds of Yoongi's groans and skin hitting skin is nothing compared to the sound of your moans filling the room and probably the house itself, oh yeah there was a party going on.

The thing on your mind is Yoongi's hand pulling your hair, the other gripping your ass, his lips leaving light kisses and love bits on your neck, his crashing into you, and his ass deeply hitting your ass.

"God fucking dammit, you take me so well pretty boy." He complimented, waited, complemented. Did Min Yoongi himself just give you a compliment, and call you a pretty boy? What the fuck is happening.

"I'm close, I'm going to cum right into you." He stated.

He pulls you back, so your back is touching his chest and pulls you into a deep kiss. Unlike the ones earlier where it was all sexual, this felt almost loving, like the one he gave you before permanently ruining your insides.

That was all you needed before shooting ropes of cum onto the mattress. He follows suit right into you, filling your insides with hot cum.

You crash onto the mattress, completely fucked out of your mind. Yoongi gets off the bed and leaves, good riddance you think.

Until he comes back with a rag to clean you up. He tosses it and gets right into his bed with you. Yoongi pulls you up and lays your head on his chest, giving you one quick kiss on the forehead.

"Best. Present. Ever." He said.

"Happy birthday bitch."

THE END

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUGA 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳

[rxmqnova]

Hi, could you write a player reader x wanda where yn has the fame of player but deep down she wanted to be in love but she was afraid because she was adopted and never felt any type of love until a woman adopted her. Yn and Wanda met and she helped Yn a bit with maths(for example) and they started to feel for each other but Yn didn't want to say anything because why Wanda would feel something for her? But one day, yn didn't go to school, and Wanda went to Yn's house and she found yn in there crying because she lost her mom and in that moment, Wanda swore to always protect her and show her the love she feels for her

You're not alone

NO ONE'S POV With a huge smile on her face Y/N's telling her mom about her day. Her mother listening to her daughter's every word, smiling weakly while rubbing Y/N's knuckles with her thumb.

It's been a while since Y/N's mother got sick and had to go to the hospital. Y/N was absolutely devastated, but now her mother's feeling better and the doctors assured her that her mother's condition is a lot better, so Y/N's trying her best to come every day at least once and tell her mom everything what happens in her life.

"Math isn't so good, but I'm working on that, so no worries. We have a new girl in class and she's quite good at all the math stuff, so I'm planning to ask her for help" Y/N assures her mother. "Oh, look at the time! I'm running late already. I'll stop by after school, mom. I love you!" The girl presses a kiss to her mother's cheek, quickly taking her bag and rushing out of the hospital.

Y/M/N can't help but let out a chuckle, shaking her head with a smile as she's watching her daughter rushing out.

Luckily Y/N makes it to school just on time, running to her classroom before the bell rings, accidentally bumping into some girl and causing all of her books to fall on the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Y/N quickly apologizes, bending down to help the girl pick up her books, locking eyes with her to realize it's the new girl. "That's okay" The brunette smiles.

"Oh, it's you! The new girl… Hm. Wanda, right?" Y/N questions, receiving a nod. "Hm. I know we haven't really talked yet, but I would really-"

"I won't go out with you" Wanda blurts out on which Y/N tilts her head in confusion. "Sorry, I'm not someone you can change after a week of dating. I-"

"I wasn't trying to ask you out" Y/N stops the brunette right there.

There's a well-known fact on the entire school that Y/N is a player. Her longest relationship lasted for about two weeks. She really wants to find someone who would love her and whom would she love, yet that hasn't happened yet.

Maybe that's caused by the fact that she's never really felt a real love until she got adopted 6 years ago.

A simple 'oh' leaves Wanda's lips, her cheeks turning red at the akward moment.

"I was just hoping you would help me with math? I have no clue what's going on there and you seemed to understand in the last few lessons, so I was hoping you'd help me out a little bit please?" Y/N asks, hoping to get a yes.

She really wants to get a good mark, so she could show it to her mom and assure her she's doing okay, so she wouldn't worry.

"Oh, sure, I can help. Sorry about that before, I didn't mean to-"

"No, that's fine. Can we meet up after shool?" Y/N questions with a smile, looking into the green eyes and searching for an answer.

———

It's been over a month since Wanda started helping Y/N with math and Y/N's grades got a lot better ever since. Though lately there's only one thing on Y/N's mind and it surely isn't school… Wanda.

For some reason Y/N just can't stop thinking about her, but whenever Y/N decides to tell Wanda, she gets insecure. Why would Wanda feel something for her? Why would she like her back?

After all, she always remembers their first encounter, how Wanda rejected her even though she wasn't about to ask her out. The whole school is talking about it, Y/N is a player, so why would Wanda want to date her?

Wanda, on the other hand, is feeling the same. Her mind is constantly wandering around Y/N and she just can't stop it. But she's certain Y/N doesn't feel the same and she definitely doesn't want to be another girl Y/N played with.

Wanda steps into the classroom, expecting to see Y/N's bright smile, but her seat is empty. Wanda shakes it off though, maybe Y/N was visiting her mom again or she just overslept, right?

There still is this weird feeling, telling Wanda something's wrong. She's been waiting for Y/N to arrive, yet the girl just isn't showing up. Something must have happened.

So as soon as the last lesson ends, Wanda rushes to Y/N's house, ringing the bell and knocking at the door without any response.

"I know you're here, Y/N!" She doesn't, but it's worth a try. What if Y/N is sick and needs help? Or what if she got hurt?

Few seconds later the door finally opens, revealing the young girl in a horrible state. Her hair is messy and her eyes bloodshot red from crying.

Wanda's just happy to see her in that moment and immediately pulls the girl in for a tight hug.

"You got me worried sick. Why didn't you text me you wouldn't come to school today?" Wanda lets out a sigh, pulling away from the hug and finally noticing the state Y/N is in. "What's wrong? What happened, Y/N/N?" She asks, cupping the girl's cheeks and wiping her tears away with her thumbs.

"… My mom died" Y/N sobs out, burying her face into Wanda's neck and crying again.

"I am so sorry" Wanda nearly whispers, rubbing Y/N's back and squeezing her eyes shut.

Y/N told her everything about her horrible childhood and how she got adopted. The girl would never ever tell anyone, but for some reason, she felt like she could tell Wanda.

"She was the only one I had" Y/N hiccups, Wanda feeling tears in her eyes as well.

"That's not true. You have me. And I will help you with everything" Wanda smiles slightly, wiping Y/N's running tears.

"Why would you? No one ever cared for me, only my mom. So why would you help?" Y/N asks, stepping back a little bit.

"Because I care, Y/N. I have feelings for you… I-I love you. I want to be here for you and I want to protect you" Wanda confesses, slowly taking Y/N's hands in hers.

"Y-you do?" Y/N questions, her voice cracking a little.

"I do" Wanda smiles, bringing one of her hands up to Y/N's face and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I-I have feelings for you too. I was scared to tell you. I thought that you would never feel the same" Y/N admits, her eyes filling with tears once again.

"Come here" Wanda pulls Y/N in for another hug, rubbing her back and letting her cry. "I'm here for you, honey. I'll help you with everything. You're not alone"

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

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

[fizzie-frog]

Look I've never been much of a shipper but Fizzarolli with Asmodeus really demolishes me I swear to God. Just the way they know each other inside and out (which, obviously, they've known each other for possibly a decade). The way Fizzarolli sleeps without his cute little jester hat on, the way he, in general, trusts Ozzie with his body and his being and just-- Agh.

And the little things too like how he finds comfort in things from Ozzie and helps him calm down (as showed above). The way Fizz can just be bare, scars out front and broken horns and know that Ozzie will continue to think he's the best fucking thing ever. How Ozzie is always so supporting and finds just the right words and brings him up when he is down.

Also I know it tends to be shadowed cause it's not discussed much, but let's remember that Fizzarolli is disabled. And I'd assume he has more issues than just being an amputee (I love fics that approach that subject but I understand why there's not many as you can go wrong with this so easily).

He was in the god damn middle of an explosion as it happened and he survived something that by all means would've killed him, by some miracle (side note: omg just the thought of him being conscious even long enough to see Blitz while burning alive, I don't doubt he'd have preferred to just black out right away). I highly doubt such a thing wouldn't give him some other sorts of physical damage too. The whole speaking and hearing thing (why he probably knows sign language), the pain stuff, so many things.

Not to even go over the mental trauma and probably years of help and sleepless nights he'd have had on a psychological level. So when I say Ozzie has been through thick and thin with him, it's probably an understatement. But he loves him and aaaaghhhh I'm just so happy for Fizz that he has someone who will be by his side no matter what, to bring him up and help him out. Not many people get that, so many turn and run the moment their partner hits even the slightest hard time.

But hey, I guess this is why it's a fictional couple.

Btw, maybe I missed it but I haven't seen anyone mention this: I don't know if I'm overthinking it - I've already seen the whole pointing out of Mammon's mirror being shaped like him, specifically his mouth, but I'd like to also go into the metaphorical senses of the mirrors. With Mammon's mirror, he's looking into Mammon's mouth, like he's eating Fizz alive. But then he turns his attention to Oz's mirror, the heart shaped mirror, and looks in it to calm down. He opens the heart shaped mirror that reads "Oz". He's looking into Ozzie's heart, and Fizzarolli is reflected in his heart.

Could totally be accidental lmao but I think it's such fkin good symbolism I-- Don't even get me started.

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea the Series: Intro (First Impressions & Predictions)

Because I'm a huge over-analyser whose known for my lengthy BL essays - here are my takeaways from the very brief glimpse we got to Mahasamut and Tongrak. They gave us literally a 1 minute teaser, so as you can imagine, I'm filling in a lot of blanks at this stage.

TONGRAK

Tongrak looks like he's going to be an unapologetic menace. A very sexy and sassy menace. He has an air of blasé indifference which screams 'yeah and so what?' you're not the boss of me'. Someone whose clearly a bit prickly, petulant and headstrong. Writers are often independent or even loners, as it's a very solitary field. They have a very strong vision of what they want, which can mean a reluctance to compromise.

I mentioned that he gives 'I know I'm hot shit' energy. He exudes a confident sexuality which is shown in how assertive he is when flirting and the smugness in how he retorts. He knows he's hot commodity and isn't afraid to flaunt it. Probably is used to having people wrapped around his little finger. 'We play by my rules, I decide if I want you or not'. At worst he may even see people around him as playthings.

Based on the general premise of the series, Tongrak comes to the seaside for inspiration. Uppity cosmopolitan city boy thrown in to the bohemian outdoors. He looks very noticeably out of place in this setting. But he may use that to his advantage, knowing others are looking at him, dazzled by a prince in the middle of literal nowhere.

MAHASAMUT

Now what comes across most strongly about Mahasamut is that he's clearly very possessive. This is signposted multiple times in this brief introduction alone. He steals Tongrak away when he's flirting with someone else. He drags him by the wrist across the beach. I assume at this point they've not known each other long and he's being very handsy and grabby. He asserts that Tongrak 'will have to love him.' (Which could mean: I'll make you fall in love with me whether you like it or not, OR you falling in love with me is inevitable because I'm just too goddamn charming). Pretty presumptuous all the same.

This tells us that Mahasamut is equally self-assured. He has bags of confidence in his ability to keep Tongrak interested. Though he's being turned down, he doesn't appear dissuaded or phased in the slightest. Whether this is due to being generally a bit thick-headed, or putting on a front in order not to let Tongrak feel like he's won, is too early to say.

It's also worth noting that people who have such confidence in their conviction often haven't failed before. And there's a certain naivete in that. It's the whole 'through hard work and determination I can conquer all' mentality, which is not always the case.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC

Now what really fascinates me about this collision of personalities is that these two are going to butt heads. A lot. Whether that's in a good-humoured tug of war, or a stubborn battle of wills. Tongrak is resistant in a 'I refuse to compromise' type of way. Mahasamut is persistent in a 'I refuse to let it go' type of way (like a dog with a bone). Neither wants to give in. Both are declaring, 'you're going to want me'.

So Tongrak and Mahasamut are not your typical match on paper. There will be fireworks (most likely good and bad). It'll probably take them much longer to find equal footing that goes beyond just sexual attraction or lust. This is why I've got a hunch the love scenes are going to pop off. We're going to get angry sex, I'm calling it now.

You could argue that Tongrak and Mahasamut do share some similarities with Sky and Prapai - particularly with the bickering and chasing - just dialled up to 100.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS

ATMOSPHERE: The setting by the sea should prove to be a really interesting way of playing on tone. Watching those two interact whilst the wind blew around them, with the crashing of the waves in the distance was a whole mood.

CONTEXT: This feels leaps and bounds removed from the more grounded setting of Love in the Air. It almost feels like a summer fling. We're getting what appears to be a more adult backdrop, which I always greatly appreciate within the BL genre.

STYLING: Tongrak's outfits are going to murder me. The silky, drapey, billowy, low cut shirts with ample collarbone on show? CHRIST. Paired with the dainty jewellery. Kill me now.

Also, love the fact they were referring to each other as 'MISTER' and 'SIR'. Like SIR, DO YOU MIND? SIR, I'VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU. SOMETHING GOT YOU HOT AND BOTHERED, SIR?

[boyfiejay]

Soulmate AU

PAIRING : Jungwon x gn Reader

GENRE : soulmates, fated to be

Warning : reader has mixed feeling about this soulmate thing, they go to different schools, jungwon is a gentleman, reader is whipped for him, mention of a cut on readers wrist (not SH), swearing like once

Word Count : 1.3k (how tf😧)

Author's Note : pinterest pushed me to write this, like i saw that bracelet photo and i had to write this. Why do my periods have to hurt me so bad, im going to kms😂

Sunoo Version

You've always felt like an outsider, so different from people around you. You were constantly surrounded by couples, soulmates to be exact. To be honest, you found the idea of soulmates a little bit too much, too controlling as to how you had spend your life with someone you've just met.

But there was still comfort in that thought, as controlling this whole thing sounded, it still was a reassurance that there is a person who is so much suited for you that they can be called your soulmate. That no matter what at the end of the day, that person understood you better than anyone else, even if they've known you for mere hours.

So really do you find these soulmates? Everyone is given a bracelet with a distinct charm on it at the young age of 10. These charms are supposed to link together when you meet them, they're stuck together for as long as the charm wants.

And although your charm was pretty looking, it still got stuck in inconvenient things. Your wrists turning red at the harsh metal. It looked pretty but was a bit too uncomfortable.

Although the thought of soulmates made you feel giddy, couples were insufferable in your early years of high school, constantly reminding you what you did not have. Or what you did not find.

But as you grew older, your excitement about finding your soulmate grew less and less. Many people found their soulmates at the beginning of high school, some even in middle school. Your parents found each other when they were 15, your older brother found his soulmate when he was 16. And at the age of 18, you felt everyone look down on you with pity.

And whatever hope you had, had started to diminish as you were now in your last year of high school. Just a year away from graduation, everyone around you was constantly worried about whether you would find your 'meant-to-be' or not.

Finding your soulmate way later in life wasn't unheard of, but the chances of finding that person becomes really low the older you get.

And so your parents decided for you that you should meet new people, hangout more often because apparently the reason you haven't found your soulmate is because you don't socialise. Which is understandable, considering you only have a set of friends that you interact with.

Thankfully, you did not have any problem with making friends. But sticked to the few you trusted, well because everyone at your school is either a crackhead, doesn't understand boundaries or just so much drama. So you happily agreed to going our more often when your parents mentioned.

But what was annoying was that you were being dragged to a different school's yearly festivals. Well not really annoying, now that you were promised a treat from your friends.

Someone in the group, you failed to notice who, had mentioned that you all should split in groups and explore whatever you wanted, since everyone wanted to do a different thing. And initially you had two of your friends with you, but after a while of mindlessly strolling you realised that you were alone, your friends vanishing, leaving you with a cat plushie you won.

You wandered around, looking around to find your friends as well as looking for something interesting to waste your money on.

You spotted someone wearing an orange beret, similar to what your friend had worn in the morning. Unfortunately the person was slowly going out of your line of sight and merging into the crowd. You had to move quickly and soon enough you were trying to push past a bunch of people.

You broke into a small jog, the person finally in your line of sight. But just then you felt a harsh tug on your wrist, it definitely wasn't someones hand that was gripping yours.

It didn't take you long to realise what the tug was, you slowly turned, hoping that your bracelet didn't get stuck in some random person's sleeve.

As you turned, you were met with wide worried eyes that were scanning your wrist. Your eyes moved down, still internally hoping, and the sight that you had dreamed numerous times was in front of you. In that moment, you just felt this strong urge to cry, no one in your life could understand the times you had felt alone while everyone around you just seemed so happy.

And no matter how much you try to gaslight yourself, you had desperately wanted to meet your soulmate. Everyone described it like such an enchanting moment, your mom said it felt like sparks were flying, you would feel that you've known this person your whole life.

But right now, the person in front of you seemed so unfazed about the fact that he had just found his soulmate. Rather he was focused on the fact that your wrist was bright red, it burned due to the harsh tug and there was a small cut that he hasn't seen yet.

"Are you okay?" he said, finally meeting your eyes, his own searching for any pain on your face. Surely you felt enchanted, not only because this was your soulmate, but also because he was the epitome of 'handsome yet cute'.

He tilted his eyes, confused at you blankly staring. No scratch that, he was cute as fuck.

Snapping out of the trance he had put on you, you say "Yeah, I'm fine." your whole face was burning up at his intense staring. You were surprised you managed to sound normal.

"I don't think this is gonna let go any time soon." he said, talking about the charms. "Do you mind if we hung out together? Consider this our first date. My name is Jungwon." he said, gently smiling, dimples appearing on his cheeks. God he was too cute.

Clearing your throat, you managed to nod and return his smile, your eyes still staring at his dimples.

He looked behind his to tell his friends to go on without him, you just realised that there were around half a dozen people behind his that were just staring at you, trying to bore holes into you. A couple of them had a teasing smile when you looked at them, two of them covering their wide open mouths. Only one person seemed laid back and he motioned Jungwon to go on, dragging the others away with him.

Jungeon looked back at you after making sure his friends weren't fooling around or staring at you, "Let's go?" he said still smiling. You felt like you were going to combust.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know each other, Jungwon surprisingly being a very easy person to talk to. You both opened up about how you two were the only people in your respective friend groups who were soulmate-less, "Well, not anymore." was his reply, with a cheeky grin, avoiding your eyes.

And despite how respective he was, he was also flirty. Like not flirty in a creepy way, he was still respectful of your boundaries but he had some kind of charm that just made you flush bright red. Or maybe you were just whipped for him, despite knowing him for such a small time.

With red cheeks and shy waves, and a promise to meet again, the date had ended.

You could finally understand why people could write whole books just about their soulmates, you felt such a deep sense of endearment when you looked at him. You finally understood why your friends were so whipped for their soulmates, constantly yapping about them.

Your friends were surely going to hear an earful for leaving you alone, but you had a feeling that you were going to talk way more about Jungwon.

[maxsimagination]

𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘄𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀 - 𝘀.𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆

warnings: none, pure fluff

----

"thankyou so much, i'm sure she'll love it. bye." i clicked the red 'hang up' button on my phone as i finished up my call with nikki webster, the one and only. it was steph's birthday tomorrow and i wanted to surprise her with her favourite song, sung by her favourite artist.

macca, lani and caitlin had suggested we throw a party on the night of her birthday, and we surprise her with something, but it was me that thought of flying down nikki to perform.

the whole team thought it was a great idea, and they each pitched in to help set up the party, and make sure steph didn't find out. i even had tony make sure we were allowed to hold the gathering in the huge 'lounge' we had at the matilda's training complex. of course he'd said yes and and made sure there was speakers and a mic for nikki to sing with.

i was snapped out of my daydream when steph walked in and slid her arms around my waist. “hey babe, whatcha up to?” i turn to her with a smile.

"nothing." my voice is laced with cheekiness and steph can tell something's up. "you sound like your up to something, what have you done?" her tone was light enough for it to be a joke but part of her was slightly scared, i'm known to be impulsive and not think things through.

"i swear i haven't done anything, stephy." again with the sickly sweet smile. she decided to drop it for know, but her gut knew that i was up to something. it's a sixth sense she gets when she's with me.

——

the next day rolled around; steph's 29th birthday. i was the first one awake, like an excited little kid even though it wasn't even my birthday. i slipped out of the bed we shared and tiptoed down to the kitchen to start making some breakfast for my girl. my phone was on the kitchen counter, some light music flowing from the small speakers as i danced around, whipping up some pancakes.

it didn't take me long and i was soon pouring the batter into little circles in the frying pan. i had two plates on a tray, ready to be brought up to steph in our room. finally i had all the pancakes dishes up, grabbed the bottle of golden syrup that i knew steph would use, the utensils and the tray and headed to the sleeping beauty still in bed.

she was in fact, still in bed, and i slipped down next to her, putting the tray on my bedside table. "steph, wake up. i made you breakfast." it must have been the smell of the pancakes that woke her because she always sleeps through alarms. "mmm, mornin' babe, something smells good."

i chuckled at her and brought the tray to rest in front of us. "happy birthday." i pressed a kiss to her forehead and she sat up to eat with me. "don't remind me how old i am." she grinned at me and we started eating.

"stephanie-elise catley, you better be dressed! we have to go to training." i shouted out to my girlfriend who was probably still lying in bed. we had both finished eating almost a half hour ago and i had taken everything to the kitchen to get cleaned up. now i was dressed and ready to walk out the door but steph was nowhere to be seen or heard.

"i'm coming i'm coming!" there was a faint shout back and some small stomps from the room, you could tell she forgot we had training and was now hopping about the room trying to get dressed quickly.

i just laughed to my self as she finally hurtled down the stairs with her shoes in one hand and phone in the other. "okay, i'm here. let's go." she grinned proudly at me, it was the quickest she'd gotten dressed before. "alright, alright tiger. put your shoes on and we'll go." it was times like these that really made me fall in love more. i grabbed the car keys and we both went out to the car, heading to training.

——

i was absolutely shattered after that session. tony had us running hard, fine tuning everything we could for the world cup. the rest of the team was currently in the change rooms, i was outside with sam. someone had to keep steph distracted, and then get her back here for the party. "okay, so i'll take care of steph, we just need to set up the room inside before nikki gets here."

i was slightly stressing and sam could tell "hey, y/n, chill. i got everything covered. you said that party's at 5, nikki at 5:30?"

i took a deep breath and sighed. "yea, thanks so much sam. i just want it to be perfect for her." we finished the details of our plan and headed to get changed. once both me and steph were done, we headed to the car, me sending a discreet nod to sam and macca one our way out. they were the like the co-captains of steph's secret birthday celebration.

it was almost impossible for me to hard the jitters i had about my surprise for steph. it was now the afternoon and i had to get both of us ready and back out for the party. "hey, stephy! c'mere." she poked her head out from wherever she was hiding. "yea what's up?" "i'm taking you out for your birthday, you have to go and get ready." her face softened with a smile.

"you don't have to do that, y/n. i'm happy to just stay in with you." "but i want to. c'mon, pretty please?" i attempt my best version of puppy eyes and she instantly folded.

"okay, okay. anything for you, love." she left with a smile and got changed. i had already changed into my clothes, and soon so was steph. we went on our way and when we got close i told her to cover her eyes. with much protesting, she reluctantly covered her eyes with her hand for the rest of the ride. i pulled into the matilda's complex for the second time that day, turning the vehicle off.

"hold on, i'll come get you." i raced around the side to get steph. she slowly hopped out, eyes still covered. i walked her inside and made sure she wasn't peeking.

"okay, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" i opened the door to the room and the team yelled out at us from the other side. steph immediately opened her eyes and grinned at what she saw. "oh, this is so cute, thankyou y/n!" she turned to hug me and i returned the favour. we started mingling with all our teammates, me heading for sam and mac.

"that was so stressful. i was jittering the whole way here." they laughed at me and we all checked the time, ready for nikki to make an appearance.

speak of the devil, i got a ping on my phone and saw it was from nikki. 'pulling in now, see you soon.' i snapped into action and told sam to meet nikki out front and mac was in charge of putting on the song. i headed for steph. "we have to dance, come on, mac is putting on music."

she laughed at my antics and followed me to the middle of the floor. her favourite song, strawberry kisses, blasted through the sound system and steph broke into a grin.

'𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦,

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨,

𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘴,

𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪'𝘮 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.'

the lyrics were thrown out into the room and everyone joined in. it was the teams' song, they loved listening to it.

'𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦,

𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦,

𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳,

𝘰𝘩-𝘰𝘩.'

steph was having a magnificent time, dancing away with me, yelling out the words with the song. the the voice changed, it was still the same song but it was like it was being sung live, in the room.

'𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴,

𝘤𝘶𝘻 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺.

𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴,

𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦.'

everyone whipped their heads towards the door where nikki webster stood, mic in hand, singing steph's favourite song. the whole room cheered, even sam was clapping and cheering from her place next to the singer. i looked at steph, who was shocked. she had no idea this was happening. "happy birthday, love." she turned to me.

"you did this?" i nodded with a smile. she wrapped me in a tight hug, squeezing me until i couldn't breathe. it was definitely a memorable night, one that ended very late and with tony scolding us that we'd be tired at training the next day. but none of us cared in that moment.

[asmoslverboy]

To love the devil; Dottore x GN!Reader.

He is who he has always been. Despite the centuries he's had to accept and embrace his darkness, though he claims otherwise, he can't help but try to hide away from you. Neither one of you's a saint, but through his eyes, you're an angel. CW! Angst, immortal × immortal, Dottore is referred to as "Zandik", self sabotage on Dottore's part♡, dottore being emotional (ooc tbh, im self projecting on him)??

932 words

Dottore has many sides to him that he'd rather hide off from you. For someone so egotistical, so full of pride, you'd never expect him to be ashamed of who he is, who he has become. And he's not— shame, embarrassment— those aren't emotions that he's familiar with.

But fear, now that's a whole other conversation. It's not like you don't know what he's done, the things he's guilty of, his list of crimes, and of unethical desires he's tried to fulfill. It's not like you haven't personally seen him drown in sin over the 400 years of knowing him.

"Zandik, did I upset you?" You ask him as you're sitting on top of his desk while he's in his chair, looking up at your figure. He's been quite distant lately, more than usual. You could easily assume that he was having one of his isolative episodes, but he doesn't seem to be avoiding anyone other than you.

"Hm?" That's all you get from him, accompanied by a raise of his right brow, but his focus soon goes back to his notes, going over them, rambling about how he needs his next project to be the embodiment of perfection. Creating an aranara, was it? Some things, it seems, never change. He was so obsessed with the idea of capturing one of those little creatures of nature, back when the two of you were still students.

The next few hours pass by in the same cycle of events. You try talking to him, he shrugs it off and continues digging his head deep into his research files.

Do not expect any more of him for the next days, weeks even. It's like your existence no longer matters to him. All you see is the man that you've been with throughout basically your whole entire lives, acting as if you were a mere accomplice. He has repeated this type of scheme in the past, more than once, but it never lasted as long as it did this time.

Each of your attempts of getting a simple response out of him, one that requires actual words instead of some grunt or hum, has gone to waste.

You're unsure of what to do. Should you be more worried for him or for yourself? Is this the time it all ends between the two of you? Should you really just give up on him at this point?

"Zandik," you called out, but not to him, nor to anyone else. Sitting by a lake, all by yourself, no one to your company, other than the thousand microorganisms that lived and thrived in the waters. "I wish you would just speak to me."

It's not like you lack friends to confide in. But would anyone be as understanding towards him— the one who was labeled a monster, by all who've known him and by himself first and foremost— after you tell them about his present behaviors?

You laid your head on the cold, wet grass. Surrounded by nature, the collective of existence. You could never be alone in this world, not as long as you believe that everything around you is as alive as you are.

But are you truly alive? If, in the past, your definition of the word was to express yourself in every way, to feel and to be felt, would you consider yourself alive at this very moment?

Another day has come— it seems you had fallen asleep on the ground. You awoke, a couple ducks quaking as they poke you with their beaks. They didn't mean to hurt you, though. And if you think about it, your beloved is much like these ducks. He does what he thinks would best help you. Even if it has opposing effects.

"You shouldn't stay," he told you, his tone felt like it could cut through metal. You were back at his office again, figuring you could at least help him out at work, if unable to help his inner world. He was taking off his gloves as he was done inspecting some ancient Khaenri'ahn technology items. "Do you want me to—"

"I've given you every reason to leave. Yet you still cling to me like a bloodthirsty eel." He cut you off. He has never spoken to you like this (not whilst he was sober, nor whilst he was in his right mind). He was calm, but he spoke as if you were an object to be dismissed.

"Do you not love me anymore?" You wanted to ask him so, so desperately. But the potential answers to that question shook you to your very core. So you dared not speak.

Such conflict within you. Shall you leave him be? Shall you listen to his words instead of pursuing him any further? You're painfully aware of his nature; to push you away when he needs your presence most.

But it's been going on for far too long, has it not? If he's not allowing you to help him, then really, what else is there to do, if not fend for yourself?

"You deserve better," he wrote to you, in a letter that'll never reach your sight. "Your love should not be limited to one who can not accept, nor react to it," he wrote again. But who is he trying to fool? He knows that this piece of paper, along with all the other ones he's tried to write, will be crunched up and disposed of.

Not even once, for the sake of the person who's loved him through it all, will he allow himself to be heard.

[vrmxlho]

hii kira !! do u have any hcs for sae abt how he would be as a bf?

SAE ITOSHI 糸師冴

if sae were a love trope he would 100% be belated love epiphany

"i never realised how much i loved them until they were gone." type beat yk

like pride and prejudice, except he's elizabeth and you're darcy ??

where you confess first and he rejects you but once you're not near him he realises that he really did love you

or when he saw how loaded you were, you be the judge (kidding)

y'all already know i think he's a good cook. like he was in spain for ages you bet he picked a few things up. cuz idk about spanish men but ik most italian men know how to cook and well.

he pours all his love into everything he makes, probably his love language honestly.

but he'd never let you know he's cooking for you because he cares

"you look like a ghost have you been eating properly?" "oh, no. unfortunately, i haven't found much time to cook lately..." "how bothersome. am i gonna have to take you all the way to the hospital when you faint from anemia?" "but i'm not even anemic..." "you will be if you don't eat your spinach." "..." "you know what. since you're so incapable i'll just cook for you." "excuse me??"

forgive him, he's just a bit of a cunt, but he loves you i promise

(also if you didn't know fun fact: preparing a homemade meal for someone is akin to confessing your feelings to them)

he's not much for PDA in fact in public he has his same, stupid, emotionless, deadpan face that is so punchable (affectionately?)

but when you're at home he'll find any excuse to lean his whole bodyweight on you

he also loves leaning in to kiss you and then reaching behind you to grab something or whatever, just to leave you flushed and stressed the fuck out

annoying asshole

he also gets very touchy when tired, if you're sleeping next to each other he tends to end up hugging you close to his heart by the time you wake up

he may not seem it but he would genuinely do anything for you

he tends to ignore most messages/texts/emails unless they're super important but he'd reply to you the second you text him

or even if it's a silly tweet

@you: there are 2 many ppl at this café 😞 @officialsaeitoshi: send me your location i got you your usual @you: ayo, how did you have it prepared n everything 😭 @officialsaeitoshi: spidey senses

he also has the most deadpan, sarcastic humour known to man

he's horrible (just my type)

nothing that comes out of his mouth is to be trusted

beware!!!

he is the no.1 gossiper alive, he knows everything about everyone's business even if he looks like the type of person who'd never think of anyone other than himself

somehow he's both at the same time

he could go hours talking about this random guy in his club who's actually the secret son of a drug lord and who ran away from home to save himself from imminent death...

what???? how does he know this?

i'm pretty sure he doesn't know either, anyway

he loves his lil self care night routines

you both sitting on the sofa talking about life (actually it's just him talking and you listening but whatever)

sae itoshi was an evening person. not because he felt most productive then. and not because he enjoyed the peace and quiet of the city. but because he enjoyed his night routines with you right next to him every second. you'd sit on the sink sill as he gently passed a finger with clay on it over your face as you kept talking about your day. "and then when i went to get coffee there were just so many people at the café it was such a hassle. this guy–" "shush. do you want clay in your mouth?" he kept swiping the remaining clay mask on your now stationary chin. once done he lifted you and walked to the sofa. this was no new routine. this was the only way he was able to unwind. with you next to him, just talking about the little, almost meaningless things. "i read somewhere that your coach is having an affair is that true?" you didn't know why you kept instigating him. it was late and you knew if he began talking now he'd only finish once the sun rose or your wake up alarm rang. but seeing him so animated was a rarity so you had to take advantage anytime you could.

now for how he confessed

at first when you confessed he rejected you and didn't think much of it at all

until he started noticing the little things about you, he started obsessing with every bit of you

how you looked, how you dress, how you style your hair

but also how your under eyes crease when you smile

how you're very picky with your food, especially dessert, but you'd eat anything if someone handmade it for you

how you're so patient when you tutor even if the person is being a dumbfuck

after obsessing over everything you did for about a day or two he was sick of the weird, nauseating feeling in his stomach

it had been about three days since the confession. being rejected right on the spot, especially in that cold manner was painful to say the least. but you were sure you had gotten over it. and you hoped with all your heart that he too had forgotten. he had just stood there as you finished telling him how he made you feel and how you had liked him for a while now. he had a horrible scowl on his face, arms crossed and an uninterested posture. you already knew what the answer was when you were done but it hurt so much more when he finally confirmed it all. so it was surprising when you saw sae march up to you as you ate your lunch with your friends. he had the same horrible scowl on his face from before. and you could feel your stomach drop as he pulled your wrist in a gruff manner. careless. he didn't care for you. "itoshi what are you–" he finally stopped once you were in a quiet corner behind the main building, away from curious eyes. "we need to talk." "about what?" "i couldn't sleep." "ok..?" "i couldn't stop thinking about you." "oh. i'm sorry if my confession made you uncomfortable. i didn't mean for it to bother you so much." "yes. it's so bothersome. now every time i see you with anyone but me, it hurts. i can't stand hearing about anyone but me, from you. i don't want you to think of anyone but me."

and then you were just like 😧🫣😏🤩

if you think rin's dramatic just WAIT until you talk to sae he's insane

THE BIGGEST drama queen (i hate him)

although i do think he is secure about himself and knows you wouldn't ever hurt him

i feel like he does have abandonment issues (a bit)

like imagine going through your teen years without family in a foreign country, you'd feel isolated no matter how many friends you made or how nice your host family was

he tries not giving any external reaction so you barely notice at first but every time he sees you with someone, looking a bit too friendly, he always feels his heart tighten

he's very gentle when kissing you

it's not like he's super strong or anything (mans is tiny)

and it's not that he's scared to hurt you, he just doesn't wanna appear too possessive or anything

favourite places to kiss you: why do i wanna say your waist, also knuckles

no idea why i just feel like if he weren't allowed to kiss your lips for any reason he would kiss there

but he definitely needed you to initiate the physical contact when you first started dating

speaking of which

dates with sae

100% movie nights, or just staying at home in general

mans hates going out if it's unnecessary

although, if you want anything he'd do it for you in an instant

or when he's feeling extra energetic

he'll take you dancing; this can either be ballroom dancing (which makes you cringe a bit but it's fun), salsa or literally just clubbing

i think he secretly loves clubbing at techno clubs (is that what they're called?) he hates commercial music cuz it just gets so repetitive

ideal vacation destination: somewhere isolated

like a random island in greece

or some forest in south america

idk man

he absolutely hates tourist destinations, tourists are his no.1 worst enemy

that's why you always end up going on holiday at random times of the year

"hey love, take a few days off next week. we're going to bora–bora." "it's the middle of march..." "not in bora–bora." "that's not how it works..." "i've already bought the tickets and spoken to your boss so you really just have to start packing."

now about pet names

he generally doesn't like them and thinks they're cringe and annoying

which they can be if used excessively ig

he tends to call you by a nickname or just your name

he only uses pet names when he wants something or has something to tell you that he knows you'll be angry/annoyed about

like the fact he planned a whole trip to bora–bora in middle of march and didn't tell you a thing 😞

however, if you're open about how much you hate him doing things without involving you he will change his ways

he's a quick learner after all ❤️‍🔥

[happilychaengs]

volleyball

college volleyball player momo x reader

word count: 1.2k

barely about volleyball tbh, mentions of a toxic ex, swearing, angst kind of?, fluff?, i'm not sure what to call this and tbh idk if this fic is even remotely good lmk i guess

of all the places that momo could've dragged you to, you would have never expected her to drag you into your campus gymnasium, which is also used as the sports arena sometimes, when she said that she had a whole date planned out.

"didn't you say... we had a date?" your voice barely reaches momo's ears through the sounds of the balls sharply hitting the floor, shoes squeaking against the rubber.

"i did say volleyball, right?" momo glances over and you have a look on your face that almost guarantees that she didn't, "right... i didn't. i'm sorry."

you let go of momo's hand as you huff, trying to slip away from the arena. momo quickly catches your hand again, her eyes looking up to meet your now pissed off gaze, your back turned towards her.

"what?" the tone you spoke in sent shivers down her back.

momo's almost scared to let any words escape her mouth, "could... could you stay - i mean you don't have to, but - nevermind." her shoulders slump in defeat, half convinced that you were too mad at her to stay. it was the final game of the season, and for once she wanted you to see her play. even if it was only for a few minutes.

your heart sinks, your earlier demeanor now cast aside. "okay."

momo's head bolts upright and you swore you could've seen stars form in her eyes as her whole body crashes into yours, her arms pulling you in for a tight hug. "really? you mean it?"

your voice chokes out, your hands quickly tapping her shoulder for her to loosen her hold, which she quickly does, mumbling a low apology, "yes..., but you have to make it up to me for not telling me what we were doing."

she nods sheepishly, running her mouth as she held your hand, walking you to the bleachers, "okay, so volleyball-" and everything that she said passed you like a blur. she explained the rules of the sport which you already forgot, the roles and everything, you only remembering she was a libero, all the while introducing her team mates to you, which honestly, you can only remember nayeon because she once spiked the ball in your face on accident when you attended momo's practice for a few minutes. she stared at you with a hint of embarrassment, her head down as momo sat you down next to the scorekeeper, who momo introduced you to, jihyo, saying she got you an extra special seat closer to the court.

momo can't help but jump up and down, knowing you're watching her as jihyo rolls her eyes, swatting momo away, "you're about to start, go get changed."

momo does a stupid salute with a bright smile on her face before running to the lockers, leaving you alone with jihyo. she taps away at her phone for a few minutes before she turns her head to you, her phone face down on the table. "how is momo?"

the sudden start of conversation catches you by surprise, "she's... good. why?"

"i was just curious because i haven't seen her that happy in... a few years, to be honest."

your eyebrows furrow, "years?"

"we've known each other since we were kids. we were neighbors and all that and... in highschool, she had an ex - thankfully who isn't near us anymore - who hurt her pretty bad." your eyes widen, never hearing this from your girlfriend before, "her name - literally kills me to say her name at this point, was maddie."

"what did she do?"

you hear nayeon specifically yell at momo, who's now dressed in her jersey and doing some warm up drills, from across the court to receive better, momo sticking out her tongue in response.

"she was such a bitch." jihyo sighs and leans back in her chair, eyes wandering around the court, "she manipulated momo more times than i could count - even slapped her at one point."

your jaw almost drops, "are you serious?"

jihyo nods solemnly, "she didn't let momo leave her sight sometimes, even for practice, and uhm... she got extremely possessive at one point."

the bell rings throughout the arena, every player in position except momo. she's sprinting onto the court, fixing her shirt before standing next to nayeon, who flicks her head giving her a whole lecture.

"so... what happened?"

"momo almost quit volleyball to meet her reckless demands." jihyo repeats in a forced voice, mocking momo's ex, "'i don't give a fuck what you're doing, quit! you need to stay by my side!' she told momo that and god, i fucking hated that bitch and her stupid voice."

and no matter how stupid it sounded to anyone else, momo cherished volleyball over everything in the world and both you and jihyo knew that. she grew up playing the sport playing beach volleyball with her father and at one point her closet was only filled with dirty, deflated volleyballs she kept as memorabilia before she had to put it all in a box to move in with her roommate. she literally lived, laughed, and breathed the sport. to be almost stripped away from it, you couldn't believe it.

"are you serious?"

jihyo breathes out a small sigh, "yeah. she sucked."

all the players on the court shook hands, before a member from each team came up to rock, papers, scissors, the other team winning the ball.

"why did she never tell me?"

"i... she - i don't think she wants you to feel bad for her." jihyo sits up again, the game about to start, "i only told you because i felt like you deserved to know, but i don't want you to treat momo any different than you have. she's happy with you."

momo gets into position, knees bent and arms out as she smiles at you like a dope, not realizing the whistle blew as a ball flew into her face, putting her on the floor. you shot up from your seat, heart almost dropping as nayeon runs over to her, worried.

momo's nose is bleeding, her wincing as she wiped it, still smiling like a dope and sticking her thumb up.

"does this always happen to her?" worry washes over you.

"eyes on the ball, stupid!" jihyo stands up from her chair as she shouts at her from across the court before turning to you, her voice a lot quieter than it just was, "don't mind her. she does this every time."

the both of you sit down again, exhaling a sigh as jihyo flips the score. "i'm not going to treat her any differently, but... thank you for telling me."

jihyo gives you a light smile before the whistle blows again, momo getting a warning for taunting the other team too much.

"seriously though, she is stupid."

momo's covered in sweat, her panting as she ran up to you, the rest of her teammates going to the lockers. "did... did you see that? we won!" she has an impossibly bright smile on her face as you give her a tight hug, momo trying to push you off, "wait, i'm really sweaty - y/n, please-"

"i'm really proud of you." even though it was an borderline embarrassing statement to say aloud, you still said it, trying to push your embarrassment away.

momo gives up on trying to push you away as she slips into your embrace deeper, her features softening, "thank you."

[lonepantheress]

i really love you

☆ pairing: kim gyuvin x reader

☆ genre: angst mostly! rlly not as romantic as i hoped

☆ warnings: yunjin le sserafim cameo

☆ wc: 3.3k

☆ a/n: i feel like i owe 1000 apologies and then some. this is the first thing that i've written in awhile. i know i've been MIA but life has really been chaotic. still i wrote this a few weeks ago and decided just to post since i haven't. i miss this blog and the lovely messages i'd receive. i hope you all enjoy <3.

You were often told that people envied your friendship with Gyuvin. You hadn’t known each other your whole lives, but it definitely felt like it. In fact, you considered yourself lucky to have a connection that goes so far beyond the surface level.

The depth of your bond presented itself in a way you considered unique. It was incredible to have someone who knew everything about you – who wanted to know everything about you. He was your shoulder to cry on and the most reliable person that you knew. You often found yourself with the fleeting thought of What if we were more than just best friends? But you brushed it off before you even gave yourself the chance to entertain it.

Still, it was no question to the people around you that you and Gyuvin were something more than best friends – even without that “Boyfriend-Girlfriend” label.

Which is how you found yourself in this position: You and Yunjin found yourselves in the same boat of “I-haven’t-know-you-my-whole-life-but-I-definetly-feel-like-I-have,” meaning you frequently spent your time with one another, and on a weekly basis you slept over at her apartment and vice versa.

You’d watch movies and do skin care and braid hair, but above all you exchanged secrets. Over months and months of sleepovers you found out about Yunjin’s secret spelling mishap of 8th grade, and she found out about your high school boyfriend who liked to call you “Sugar Plum” unironically. No matter how serious or ridiculous the secret, they came out naturally in the dead of night during almost every sleepover the two of you would have.

“I think, maybe, deep down inside, I am possibly harboring some feelings for Gyuvin.” The confession came out with the same pit in your stomach you get when you’re throwing up. 

You sat across from Yunjin on her apartment bedroom floor with green face masks adorning both of your faces. You couldn’t believe the words that had just left your mouth, your heart raced while you waited for Yunjin to give you some sort of response. When your eyes darted up at her, she looked at you wide-eyed and jaw-dropped. 

The room seemed to hold its breath, almost as if it were waiting with you for Yunjin to say something. You were having one of those heart-to-hearts that you only have in the dead of night, admitting all kinds of secrets that you had to look deep inside to find. Still, upon hearing yours, she blinked a few times as if she was trying to process what she’d just heard.

“Wow,” she said softly, breaking the silence, “I mean, I already knew that! I just wasn’t expecting you to say it!”

You managed a weak smile in return, the corners of your lips shaking with nerves, “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Well? You haven’t said anything to him about it?”

“What? No! Oh god, no. That hurts my head just thinking about it, no. I can’t.”

“You can’t?” 

“I can’t.”

She didn’t understand you, but she understood the weight of your words and decided not to bother you about it anymore. Yunjin reached over and gently put her hand over yours, the warmth of her touch grounded you in that moment. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. You know I’m here if you need anything, right?”

The confession occupied the air between the two of you like a fragile secret. Now, the green face masks seemed oddly out of place. As if the intimate exchange had transcended the triviality of their original purpose. 

Yunjin’s initial shock gave way to a soft smile, her eyes holding a mixture of empathy and understanding. The kind of understanding that could only be offered by close friends – knowing they may not comprehend the depth of your emotions, they will be there for you nonetheless.

You sighed heavily and turned your gaze to the ceiling, letting all those emotions you shoved down take their place in your heart. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling half the time,” you admitted, voice carrying a mix of frustration and self deprecation.

Yunjin chuckled, her eyes crinkled in the corners and the dry mask of her face cracked in sync. “Babe, feelings are messy! I don’t think mine ever follow a logical path.”

“God, tell me about it. It’s just… Gyuvin, you know? We’re just too good as friends. What if I ruin it?”

Your hand received a reassuring squeeze from Yunjin before she withdrew her touch, a pensive expression on her face. She leaned back on her arms, considering your words carefully.

“I mean – I personally don’t get where you’re coming from,” she began, voice gentle, “But think about it this way Y/n: if your friendship is as good as you believe it is, then it’s strong enough to handle some turbulence. Emotions aren’t always predictable, and that’s okay! What if some weird unspoken tension affects your friendship more than your harboring some secret feelings?”

You sighed again, staring at the tiles at the ceiling as if they’d give you the answer after a while. “I know. You’re right. It’s just scary…I don’t even care if he feels the same way, what if things get weird between us?”

Yunjin leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “Babe, look, I can’t predict the future. I do know that honesty is the best policy, though. He deserves to know the truth, but you deserve to express your feelings even more! Whether he reciprocates or not, it’s not in your control. What you can control is how you handle this moving forward.”

“You’re right,” you admitted, letting your head down to face her. “I can’t even tell you how long I’ve been avoiding this for. It isn’t fair to either of us.”

Yunjin smiled widely at you, mask cracking more and more. “Exactly! And you know what they say about regrets, right?”

“What do they say?”

“Well.. I don’t really know. But they have to say something about it! Look, if he truly values your friendship then he’ll appreciate your honesty.”

You smiled back at Yunjin, your own mask cracking from the movement in your face. Yunjin stood up and held her hand out for you to grab.

You reached out and took her hand, letting her help you up from the ground. The air in the room felt a little lighter now, as if the weight of your confession had been shared and the burden lessened.

“Come on,” Yunjin said, “Let’s wash these off and then go to bed. We can talk about this in the morning or something. And if things don’t work, I will happily accept a confession from you on his behalf!”

Despite the impact that your much needed heart-to-heart with Yunjin had on you, you still found yourself unable to take any immediate action (or any action at all, for that matter.) In fact, it was more like the opposite. Your behavior took an unexpected turn – one that puzzled those around you. To you, though, it all made perfect sense. You had finally sat down and confronted those feelings that you had long harbored, and you need some time and space to really process it. Particularly, time and space away from Gyuvin. 

You shifted to practically being inseparable from one another to being distant and withdrawn. Those who’d grown accustomed to seeing you two together nearly every day were now met with your fleeting glances and casual avoidance. It was you who’d placed the invisible barrier between you and Gyuvin, leaving him equally confused by your sudden change in behavior.

Though, he didn’t know what exactly caused this sudden shift with you, he wasn’t blind to the cues you were throwing his way. He noticed immediately your short responses (if he had received one at all), and your excuses to avoid making any plans. He saw you take the long way from one place to another and he could only assume it was so you could avoid crossing paths with him. And while the biggest part of him wanted to know why, his brain told him to just let you deal with whatever it was you were dealing with. 

This went on for three weeks before someone decided to mention it. 

“What’s going on with Y/n?”

“What’s going on with Y/n?” Gyuvin scoffed at Matthew’s question and deadpanned, “If I knew that, she’d probably be here right now.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow, “Man, don’t get mad at me. I’m just so used to seeing you guys together all the time. It’s weird to everyone to see you guys apart like this.” Matthew leaned against the table at the campus café that they both sat.

Gyuvin let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair, “You’re telling me? I’ve tried talking to her but she’s just… distant? I dunno. I can’t put a finger on why.”

“Did you guys have a fight?”

He shook his head, face full of frustration. “Is it bad if I say I wish we did? At least then I’d know what I did. She’s just been acting different. We used to spend hours talking about the dumbest shit and now it’s like pulling teeth to even get a few words out of her.”

Matthew took a sip from his coffee, gaze fixed on Gyuvin, “Maybe she’s going through something! Sometimes people start acting like that when they’re going through something personally. It could be something heavy, and she’s just not ready to talk about it yet.”

Gyuvin frowned at that idea, his mind was racing considering Matthew’s words. What could be so bad that you wouldn’t tell him? “You think so?”

Matthew nodded. 

“I mean.. I don’t know, man. We’re always there for each other. If that’s the case then I wish she’d just let me in.”

Matthew gave a wide, reassuring smile before replying, “Maybe she will, eventually. Just give her some time. Try not to let her push you away completely, keep reaching out. Even if it’s just a, ‘Hey. How’s your day?’ text or something.”

Gyuvin nodded, trying his best not to acknowledge the little pit in his stomach that was gnawing at him, “I’ll do that. But I get to blame you if your advice sucks.”

With the days passing, Gyuvin took Matthew’s advice to heart. He started sending you the occasional message asking about your day or giving you an anecdote out of his. He wasn’t expecting lengthy responses, but he wanted you to know that he was still there regardless of whatever it was you were dealing with.

You, on the other hand, were dealing with all kinds of complex sentiments about your situation. To no one’s surprise, honesty was a much easier concept to speak about than it was in practice. That confession to Yunjin that night had opened a floodgate of uncertainty and fear for you. Part of you had expected your feelings to be reciprocated or to at least be brushed aside as a passing thought, but the reality was much more complicated. You’d unintentionally thrown a wrench in your friendship with Gyuvin, and it was past the point of you knowing how you could fix it. 

You spent a lot of time thinking about it, your situation. You stared at your messages with Gyuvin and wondered if they’d be any different if you were honest. When you’d see him on campus laughing with his friends, your heart would ring itself out. Your close friends could notice the toll that it was taking on you, especially Yunjin. She was the only one who knew anything about what you were feeling, so she was the only one who could try to help.

She noticed how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes anymore, or the heavy sighs that seemed to escape you involuntarily, or the way that you’d space out and think to yourself more often. 

One night, you were both sprawled across her living room couch with a movie playing in the background. The atmosphere was interrupted by the loud chime of your phone. It sat on the coffee table in the center and the screen was lit up with a text.

“Who’s that?”

You both knew who it was. “Oh, probably my mom or something. I’ll just reply later.” You could lie all you wanted, but you couldn’t pretend that your situation wasn’t getting to you. The message was short and sweet, but it made your stomach erupt with butterflies while simultaneously giving you the urge to throw up. Hi, I’m thinking of you. Just wanted to check in and ask you about your day.

“Y/n.” Yunjin spoke softly, but she sounded stern. She wanted you to take her seriously and to let your walls down again.

“Yunjin.” You responded, putting your phone back down and looking her in the eye.

“I can see how much this is bothering you. It’s eating you up inside, isn’t it?” She sat up and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, pausing the movie before facing you again. Neither of you need to clarify what “this,” was because the heavy toll it had taken on your heart was evident to anyone who knew about your feelings.

You couldn’t stop the tears before they began to fall. You could only nod in response, unable to put your feelings into words. 

“Babe, I think it’s time to face this head-on,” Yunjin suggested, maintaining a firm but gentle tone. “You can’t avoid him forever. It’s hurting the both of you.”

“But what if it makes things worse?” You whispered, voice trembling.

“I really, really, really don’t think you’d do that,” Yunjin sighed and faced you directly. “He asked me about you the other day.”

That only made you cry harder, feeling like your heart would just explode in your chest. “What’d he say?” You managed to ask through sobs.

“You know, he just wanted to see how you were. If everything was okay with you.”

“And what’d you tell him?”

“I told him that I couldn’t really say. That you’ll make the time soon to go talk to him.”

“Yunjin…” you trailed off and broke your eye contact with her, feeling embarrassed. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy,” she began, “But, this distance? This awkwardness? It’s not doing you any favors. At least if you talk to him you’ll know where you stand.”

All you could do was nod before Yunjin brought you into a deep embrace, comforting you while you cried on her shoulder.

Over the next few days, you continued to wrestle with the decision of finally facing Gyuvin. The inner turmoil was beginning to reach its peak, you knew that you couldn’t keep pretending like he didn’t exist. Yunjin’s words echoed in your mind as a constant reminder to confront your feelings and put an end to the growing distance between you and Gyuvin. 

One evening, as the sun began to set and cast a variety of golden hues over the city, you found yourself standing in front of Gyuvin’s favorite coffee shop. It was also your favorite, but you’d been avoiding it on the off chance that you’d see him there. Your heart raced as you took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage to go inside. The bell above the door tinkled as you entered, scanning the cozy interior until your gaze met Gyuvin.

He was sitting by the window, engrossed in whatever assignment he was working on, his brows furrowed in concentration. The sight of him sent a rush of emotions through you – familiarity, comfort, and a twinge of nervousness. You scolded yourself internally for being scared to talk to your best friend.

You approached his table, cringing at how loud your footsteps seemed to sound in the otherwise quiet café. He looked up, surprise registering on his face before morphing into a warm smile.

“Hi,” he greeted, closing the books that littered the table and setting them aside, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Hi,” you echoed, your voice a little shaky, “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

Gyuvin’s expression to a more confused one, but his smile never faltered. “Of course you can sit with me,” he gestured to the empty seat across from him, “I would actually really like it if you did.”

You settled into the seat, avoiding eye contact with him. The silence between the two of you hung for a moment before Gyuvin decided to speak up, “Is everything okay with you? I feel like I never hear from you lately.”

You took a deep breath, your heart still racing. “That’s actually why I came here. I was hoping you’d be here so that we could talk.”

His brows furrowed slightly and his expression dropped, concern evident in his eyes, “You can tell me anything. Please, talk to me.”

“I really love you Gyuvin.”

Gyuvin smiled earnestly at you, “I love you too. You know that you can tell me anything, right?”

You sighed and looked him in the eye before repeating yourself, “No, I mean, I love you.”

Gyuvin's eyes widened, and he seemed momentarily taken aback by your confession. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. 

You cut him off before he could speak, “I just – I sort of realized it one night and I couldn’t figure out how to face you? I didn’t know how, so I just didn’t. And I know it was wrong and I know I should’ve just been honest with you and I just….” you trailed off and looked for some sign of understanding in his eyes.

There was a passing moment of silence where your eye contact was never broken, but you could feel your heart drumming against your chest while the lights in the café began turning on to account for the lack of the sun.

“I love you too.”

Your eyes widened and you waited to respond out of fear that the butterflies in your stomach would fly out if you opened your mouth. “You love me?”

“I really love you,” he mimicked your earlier statement.

You laughed a bit and let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, reaching a hand out to intertwine with Gyuvin’s. “I was so scared. That by telling you I’d ruin our friendship. That scared me more than anything.”

"Y/n, you have to understand that our friendship is incredibly precious to me, like a guiding light in my life. But you… you're more than that. And now, it's as if our bond is being woven even tighter, stronger, because we're entrusting each other with the most vulnerable parts of ourselves." Gyuvin's voice softened, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "It's a kind of feeling that I never want to lose."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you at his words, tears welling up in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks, “I should’ve talked to you sooner. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his free hand. “You’re here now. We’re here now and that’s what matters.”

You chuckled through your tears, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Yunjin was right, you know. She told me I needed to face this head-on.”

“I never thought I’d say this about her, but you have a pretty smart friend,” Gyuvin teased, his smile widening.

You both laughed, the tension in the air dissipating. It felt like a heavy fog had been lifted for the both of you, leaving a clarity that neither of you had seen before. The café seemed to fade into the background as you focused on each other.

“So…” you began, “What do we do now?”

Gyuvin leaned in a little closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “I think you owe me, at the very least, a date for what I had to put up with this past month.”

You nodded, stifling your giggles from him before responding, “I think I can make that happen.”