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feelbokkie · 1 year

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📱Distancing yourself from BF!SKZ after receiving hate 📱 (Part 2) (Hyung + Hyunjin Line)

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: heavy angst, hurt/comfort

pov: 1st & 2nd person

description: Your boyfriend finds out why you've been distancing yourself (Half smau, half written)

pairing: bf!skz & fem!reader

warnings: swearing, break up, mentions of violence, mention of self harm (?), self loathing, mostly fluff, let me know if I missed anything

word count: listed below

screenshot count: 4

Part 1

Part 2 (Maknae Line)

방 찬 (Bang Chan) (1,150 words)

“Y/N’s a better person than me. I don’t think I would be able to handle it.”

“Handle what?” Chan asked the two staff members who were talking in the corner.

Chan normally stays out of things that don’t concern him, but when he heard your name he could help but get involved.

“All the hate. I don’t know what I would do if I was constantly being told to kill myself by strangers.” The taller of the two staff members mentions.

Chan thought quietly to himself for a few seconds. He knows that you had gotten some hate in the past, it’s only natural that a few fans would be upset that Chan is in a relationship. But he handles the situation with a message on bubble and everything was fine. Right? You wouldn’t keep something like this from him. Right?

“Thank you for your hard work today,” Chan says quickly before shuffling off to a quiet corner of the room.

He pulls out his phone and types in your name on Twitter. All the top mentions of your name are so vile and full of malice that he can only imagine how worse it must be in your inbox.

Chan spent the whole journey back to his dorm reading all the comments that you must have seen. You had to have seen them and that’s why you’re avoiding him. There’s no other explanation. All of your social media accounts are now private, comments are turned off, and you even took off your profile pictures. It’s bad and he blames himself for not seeing how much you were suffering sooner. Once they get home, Chan walks straight to his room and slams the door, causing Jisung, Changbin, and Hyunjin to share a scared and confused look.

With a need to put an end to all the madness before it escalates even further, he does the only thing he can do: start a Channie’s Room.

***

I stared at the link Chan had sent me for 5 minutes. I’ve been avoiding him for a few days, it doesn’t make sense that he would just send me a link like everything is okay. But it’s not, everything is fucked.

Our relationship is public, much to Chan’s dismay. He would have preferred to keep everything private, but after a picture of us was at risk of being leaked, we decided to get in front of the narrative and announce our relationship. Everything was fine, my name and picture were never released. A few weeks ago my identity was revealed. I didn’t tell Chan, I didn’t want to worry him with something I could handle on my own. And I did, but the toll on my mental health from most of the comments being directed at me would have been a dead giveaway.

I bite my lip and open the video on my laptop. I sit with my knees to my chest at my computer desk. The video stars and I see Chan sitting in his bedroom wearing the couple hoodie we picked out our first year of dating. I can’t stop the corner of my lips from turning up. His expression is hard to read. He looks tired. I can see it in the bags under his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you guys weren’t expecting a Channie’s Room today. It’s going to be short. I promise.” Chan explains as he reads comments on his phone. Why did he send me a link to this?

“‘Why are we here?’ I thought we could have a little chat. Just a quick conversation about something that’s come to my attention.’”A flash of anger hits his eyes only for a quick second.

Shit. He knows. He knows and he’s going to address it. I quickly pull my phone and dial Chan’s number to get him to stop whatever crusade he’s about to embark on. Chan picks up his phone and swipes his hand across the screen just as the call ends. Chan holds his phone up to the camera.

“If it’s alright with you guys, I’m going to put my phone away. It’s almost dead. But don’t worry, I can still see your comments on my computer.” He smiles at the camera before literally tossing his phone behind him.

“Fuck!” I shut my laptop and race around my room grabbing my shoes, wallet, and keys before making a mad dash to the dorm.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks when he answers the door. I take a second to catch my breath, doubled over in front of the door. I managed to turn a 30-minute walk into a 15-minute marathon. Call me superwoman.

“C…han…is Chan still in his room?” I ask, finally standing up having collected myself after a few minutes.

“Yeah, but I would wait for a second. He’s pissed.” Han calls from the couch.

“Oh, believe me, I already know.” I finally make my way into the dorm and head straight to Chan’s room.

I open the door and freeze when I see Chan still sitting at his desk. I quietly close the door and lean against it as I try to catch my breath. Chan looks at me quickly before finishing the live and giving me his full attention.

“Why are you out of breath? What’s wrong?” He stands up and places a hand on my shoulder.

“What’s wrong? I ran all the way over here to stop you from doing whatever the fuck that was on live.” I push his hand off and make my way over to the beanbag chair that Chan has for me to sit in.

“You’re mad at me for defending you?” He grabs a water bottle from his mini fridge and opens it before handing it to me. I take a huge sip.

“Not mad, upset. I was handling it.”

“How were you handling? By avoiding me?”

“I only avoided you because you can read me like a book. I didn’t want you to worry while you’re busy with your comeback.”

“So you were just going to suffer in silence?” Chan sits down on the edge of his bed and hands me the water bottle cap.

“Chan, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to start dating you. I expected something like this would happen eventually. I didn’t want you to worry because you already have so much weight on your shoulders.”

“It’s literally my job as your boyfriend to worry about you. It’s not a burden. You’ll never be a burden.” Chan climbs off the bed and kneels next to me.

“I love you. I promise that I will lean on you more.” I take Chan’s hand and kiss his cheek.

“And I promise to also lean on you so that you don’t have to worry about coming to me. Stay the night?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho) (921 words)

Part 3

Minho rarely goes on social media. He’ll post the occasional picture on Instagram for the official Stray Kids page, but that’s all. He has his secret account, but he mostly uses it when he’s been away from you for a while and misses seeing your face. He hadn’t seen you for a couple of weeks so he logged in to look at your most recent pictures. That’s when he saw all of the hate comments that were under all your pictures.

“What the fuck?” He mutters under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Han asks, looking concerned at Minho. Dance practice had run late so they’re all resting on the floor of the practice room.

“All these comments on Y/N’s pictures. They’re so vicious.” And recent.

“Do you think that’s why she hasn’t been around?” Minho blinks a few times before shutting his phone and putting his stuff away. He looks down at his phone one more time before leaving without saying anything to the others.

***

I set down a cup of water in front of Minho before returning to my spot in my armchair. He’s been quiet ever since he showed up at my door. It wasn’t completely strange for him to show up unannounced like this. He often comes over to spend the night on a whim. But this time feels different.

“How was practice?” I finally say, breaking the silence.

“Long and difficult, but we’ll figure it out. We always do.” The room falls silent again. I don’t know why I’m nervous, it’s just Minho. We’ve been together long enough, silence shouldn’t be awkward for us. If anything, we prefer it. Most of our nights in are quiet while we both just enjoy each other’s company.

“I saw the comments on your Instagram. When were you going to tell me?” Minho reaches for the glass of water and takes a sip.

“I… I was going to. I just didn’t know when or how to bring it up.” A few weeks ago, a few Stay found my social media and began commenting rude things under all my pictures. It’s escalated into a bigger issue than what I initially thought it was going to be.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you actually asking?”

“Y/N, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t actually want to know.” I don’t know why, but he saying that breaks me. Tears start falling down my face faster than I can stop myself.

The truth is, I’m not okay. I knew that dating an idol came with its own set of challenges and that publicly dating one would be even harder. I knew to an extent that I would probably get hate, either directly or indirectly, at some point in our relationship once we went public. So, I constantly did a lot of mental preparation for this exact situation. But no amount of mental preparation will ever prepare you for having all of your flaws pointed out and constantly being told to kill yourself. I hate to admit it, but it has severely impacted my mental health. I can’t sleep, and when I do it’s never for long. My appetite is nonexistent, I only eat when I realize that I hadn’t eaten anything all day.

“I’m not doing great if I’m being completely honest. I can’t remember the last time I got a decent sleep or ate a proper meal. I barely made all of my social media private, but that doesn’t stop people from sending me DMs. I have to delete every comment by hand because if I just turned off my comments, I would miss seeing the stuff you wrote. But that means I have to read each comment to make sure I’m not getting rid of yours— I’m just really exhausted.”

Minho is silent again as he gets up from his spot on the couch and kneels in front of me. He takes me in his arms and strokes my hair as I sob into his shoulder. I knew everything was getting to me, but I didn’t know how much it is affecting me until I said it out loud.

Min presses a kiss on my cheek and pulls away once I’m done crying. He places both hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. His are filled with tears and he has a sad smile.

“Let’s break up.” He says it so quietly, I almost didn’t hear him.

“What? No—”

“Y/N, you’re miserable. You’re not eating or sleeping, and in a way, it’s because of me. Even if we were to block all of the people sending you hate and delete the comments and DMs, you’ll still be at the center of all this negativity. The only way you’ll know peace is if we aren’t together anymore.”

“I love you, I don’t want to break up.” Tears begin to fall down my face again.

“I love you too, and that’s why we have to. It would be selfish of me to stay with you knowing that you’re dying inside because of me. I would rather end this and know that you’re happy somewhere than lose you forever.” The tears that were welling in his eyes finally start to fall too.

He’s right, even if he went and reprimanded everyone for sending me hate, it would never truly end. I wouldn’t be happy.

“Can we break up tomorrow? I just really need you right now.” I choke out.

“Whatever you need, my love. And just know, I’ll always be here for you.”

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin) (826 words)

“Excuse me, could we take a picture with you?” Changbin had run into a few fans on his way out of the grocery store when he was getting ingredients to make you soup.

“Ah, just one, I have popsicles.” He lifts one of the bags to show them the shopping he just did. They take a quick group photo before heading their separate ways.

“Changbin oppa is so sweet. I wonder what he sees in that bitch.” One of the fans says as they walk away.

“She’s probably just after him for his money. You know what the forums say.” Another one pipes up.

They thought that they were far away enough from Changbin when they started talking, but he heard them. When he turned around to confront them, they were gone. It takes him a few seconds to process what they were talking about. Forums? That mentioned you? Once he realized what was going on, he ran off to your apartment.

***

“Are you receiving hate?” Changbin asked when I opened my door.

I was laying down in bed, reading some new mentions on Twitter, when I got a text from Changbin saying he was downstairs. I shouldn’t have said I had a headache. Any mention of me being sick or hurt, he runs to take care of me. I knew he would find out eventually, I was just hoping it wouldn’t be tonight.

“Hello to you too.” I close the door and follow him into the kitchen. He put some grocery bags on the counter and was now leaning over the sink. I roll my eyes and start going through the bags. He really can’t multitask.

“Why didn’t you tell me about what’s going on?” He says without looking at me.

“Bin, can we not do this tonight? I really do have a headache.” I grab the box of popsicles and put them in my freezer.

“Your head wouldn’t hurt if you told me that people were harassing you online. I am your boyfriend, you should come to me when these things happen.” I put the last of the groceries away and walk to the living room.

“Yah! Y/N, don’t walk away from me. I just want to talk.” I love Changbin, but he can be loud. I’m used to it, but it’s unbearable right now.

“Maybe I didn’t tell you because it’s none of your business.”

“You are my business! And if someone is treating you like shit, I should know.” He sits down on the couch, running his hand through his hair.

“You can’t fight everyone to defend my honor.” I sit down on the opposite side of the couch.

“I can try.”

“And tell them what? That they’re wrong? That I’m not a cold bitch? Or a slut? Can you prove that I’m not? For fucks sake— you came all the way over here because you were worried about me and I’m trying to push you away. Changbin, I didn’t tell you because they’re telling the truth. I’m not the most attractive person. My personality is shit and my body count is a bit higher than I like to admit. The only thing that they’re wrong about is me being a gold digger.” Changbin’s expression softens. He scoots closers to me on the couch and places a hand on my knee.

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that. You’re wrong. They’re wrong. I’m the only one who is right. They don’t know you like I do. Who are they to call you a bitch? They don’t know that you carry around snacks for dogs and cats with you just in case you run into a stray. They don’t know that you’re the one who makes sure I don’t overwork myself, and take care of me when I ultimately do with no complaints. They don’t know that you also take care of the rest of my group members when they’re sick so that the rest of us stay healthy. They don’t know that you’re prettiest without your makeup, especially when you first take it off. They don’t know that you were going through something before we met. So why should what they say about you matter?”

“Bin—”

“If you don’t like something about yourself because you personally have an issue with it, that’s fine. It’s normal and I’ll be right here to help you fall in love with yourself again. And if you’re letting the opinions of others who have no idea what they talking about, I will personally kick their asses for you.” I can’t stop the corner of my mouth from turning up.

“I’m sure JYP and Dispatch would love that.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. I love you and I want to be there for you, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me in.” He moves his hand to my hand and squeezes.

“You can’t protect me from everything.” I sigh, squeezing his hand back.

“Wanna bet?”

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin) (1,076 words)

“Hyunjin hyung, isn’t this Y/N noona’s apartment?” Jeongin held his phone in front of the older boy’s face. On it played a video that showed your apartment, your place of work, and the shops in your neighborhood that you frequent. At the end of the video your phone number and the addresses for both your home and appear on the screen.

“What is this?” The color drains from Hyunjin’s face as he picks up his phone again and sends you a quick text, more panicked this time.

“I don’t know. I just saw it right now, but apparently, it was uploaded a couple of weeks ago— Chan hyung!”Jeongin dropped his phone and tried to steady Hyunjin’s swaying body.

“What’s wrong?” Chan asked looking at the scene unfolding in front of him. Jeongin quickly catches Chan up on what’s happening as Hyunjin slowly starts to zone back in.

“Something’s happened to Y/N, I just know it. I…I need to go check on her.” Hyunjin mumbles.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Hyunjin to have spells when you didn’t talk to or see each other. So when you first stopped replying to him, he didn’t think anything of it. But slowly, as time went on he would worry a little each day. When he first reached out and you didn’t reply, he just figured you weren’t ready to talk yet and left it alone. Finding out that you had been doxxed and were now unreachable racked his body with guilty.

“I’ll go with you, ‘kay? Minho, you’re in charge.” Chan wrapped his arm around the fragile boy and led him out of the room.

***

I haven’t left my apartment in a couple of days. I’ve barely left my bedroom since the incident at the convince store. I had been fired earlier that day because the unwanted attention I was receiving was messing with productivity. I had gone to get some snacks and cheap food for the next couple of days when I ran and got into an altercation with a couple of sasaengs. It’s safer in my room and I have enough food in my apartment for the next few weeks.

A knock at my bedroom door draws my attention. Knock? Did they finally manage to break in? I know there are been some people hanging around my apartment for a while now. My eyes scan my room for a place to hide. I settle on the closet. I quietly make my way to the closet and situate myself in the back of it, hugging my knees to my chest. I can’t even call for help, my phone is somewhere on the floor in my living room where it has stayed after I threw it. I have been getting an insane amount of calls and texts I was being bombarded with.

My heart is pounding so hard, I can’t hear anything. I squeeze my eyes tight and take a deep breath in. I let my breath out as I rub my sweaty palms on my pant legs. I should have taken some sort of self-defense course when I decided to move out of my parents' house. I didn’t think I needed to. Hyunjin went along with me when I was looking for an apartment. This one was in the safest neighborhood in my price range. He left a pair of his shoes and one of his coats by the door so it looks like he lives here. Hyunjin. He’s going to be devastated when he finds out. Whatever happens today, I hope isn’t the one who finds me. He’d torture himself for not being here, for not knowing.

I hold my breath when I hear the closet door open. If I stay as still as humanly possible, maybe they’ll leave. I squeeze my eyes tighter as the footsteps walk a little deeper into the closet. A rush of cool air hits my face as the clothes around me move.

“Hyunjin! I found her!”

Chan? I open my eyes to find the older boy standing over me with soft, yet relieved eyes. Hyunjin runs into the room and makes eye contact with me. Chan walks out of the closet to make room for Hyunjin. He kneels next to me and engulfs me in a hug, burying my face in his chest. Breathing in his scent, I start sobbing.

We sit like that for what feels like hours. The whole time, Hyunjin stayed quietly stroking my hair. Being in Hyunjin’s arms is the most peace I’ve felt in a month. The warmth radiating from his body and his familiar scent lulls me into a quiet state.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper when I finally calm down enough.

“Why are you sorry? If anything, this is my fault.” Hyunjin’s voice cracks. I pull away from his chest and look into his eyes. They’re red and glassy. I swipe my thumb under his eye.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t leak my information to the world.”

“That wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t dating me. Y/N,” he lets go of me and turns to face me fully, “I was so scared when I found out what happened. I was terrified that I was going to come here and find you…” Tears start to well up in his eyes at the thought of how badly this could have turned out.

“I know. I was scared too. But it’s fine. I’m fine”

“But it could have been really bad. Look at you—you’re covered in bruises. You can’t live here anymore.” He gently lifts my head to examine my face. Most of the damage is on my arms and torso, I have a small bruise on the corner of my mouth and a slightly busted lip.

“I know that—I’ve been looking at new places. But it’s going to take a while.”

“Just stay with me, it’s safer. Living with Changbin hyung and Chan hyung is like living with two bodyguards. And Jisung is pretty entertaining. Plus, I’m there.” I crack a small smile.

“Don’t you always complain about living with 3racha?” Hyunjin brushes my hair out of my face.

“Yeah, but maybe they’ll get their shit together if you move in with us. Anyway, let’s go. We can get something to eat and talk about everything.” Hyunjin stands up and sticks his hand out toward me. I take his hand and he pulls me up.

“I’m right behind you.”

—

Buy me a coffee?

#feelbokkie writes #stray kids #skz #chan #bangchan #bang chan #lee know #minho #lee minho #changbin #seo changbin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #x reader #skz smau #stray kids smaus #stray kids fake texts

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totheblood · 1 year

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hii love can you write hcs of ellie williams in protective gf mode

a/n: of course! thank u for the request <;3 p.s little bonus ai audio at the end (ellie yelling at u lol, ellie telling u to drink up, ellie asking u whats wrong)

protective gf ellie

it’s no secret that ellie is extremely protective of the people around her, but when it came to you it was a whole other story

she’s protective of you out in the world, if you’re on patrol together she will always enter new areas before you, scoping it out before giving you the okay to come in

“it’s safe to come in, babe.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

“and you’re still alive, so where’s my thank you?”

she would definitely try not to baby you since she’s positive you can hold your own (it’s very hot to her how badass you are on patrol) but sometimes she just can’t control it

she knows she’s immune so she would much rather take her chances than have you be bit, but you don't know that so you get into little quips about why she doesn’t let you fight infected

“i don’t see why i can’t clear out the area with you ellie, i feel like i’m not pulling my weight.”

“it’s not safe, you could get bit.”

“SO COULD YOU!”

“but i won’t.”

she will always check the sturdiness of the floor before telling you to follow her (she’s fallen through too many floors to take her chances with you)

when you do end up getting hurt on patrol she gets mad

like unreasonably angry at you… she’s working on it

“what the fuck were you thinking?! going in there gun’s blazing, you didn’t know how many of them there were!” she would scold you while tending to your wounds, it was honestly very confusing

“i’m sorry, i jus-“

“don’t do it again.” she would say it in her sternest voice before kissing the gauze where she patched you up

when it comes to protecting you from other people in jackson ellie was known for being ruthless

a guy hitting on you at the diner? she would slide into the booth next to you and wrap her arm around your waist with an exaggerated, “hey baby.”

someone who won’t leave you alone when you’re obviously uncomfortable? she would immediately step in between the two of you with her finger pointed in the guys face, “hey back the fuck up!”

if she ever saw you crying, all hell would break loose

inside her rage would be boiling, but on the outside she was running up to you, putting your face in her hands, scanning your body for any injuries, and asking you with the most tender voice, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“these guys would not stop making fun of me on my way home.” you would explain in between sniffles “just got so overwhelmed, but i’m okay.”

“who? what did they look like? what were they saying?”

“ellie, don’t do anything.”

“i won’t, just tell me. wanna make sure those assholes shovel horse shit for a month.”

after you would tell her she’d press a kiss on your forehead and stay with you until you fell asleep

after she would go out and find the guys who made you cry and beat them up (violence isn’t the answer but this is ellie and she’s a sucker for revenge)

ellie’s actually not above punching anyone for you, she just would never let you see that side of her

a part of her also wants to protect you from herself and what she’s capable of

so whenever she’s not doing mentally well she would seperate herself from you so she doesn’t lash out at you

she hates the look on your face when anyone yells at you and she knows she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she was on the receiving end

she also always walks you home, she likes when you call her a gentleman and kiss her goodnight

she’s also protective of you when you’re not feeling well, absolutely ignoring her own health to make sure you’re eating, sleeping, and getting enough water

“c’mon baby, drink up.” she would coo as she gently sat you up in your bed, her protective hand resting on the small of you back while you drank

she would stroke your hair as you slept, constantly checking your body temperature as she waited for your fever to break

on the flipside, whenever she was sick she wouldn’t let you around her

you would be banging on her door with homemade soup being like “ellie, open this goddamn door!”

and her sick ass would say “no! don't wanna get you sick!” through her stuffy nose

“fine, but i’m leaving the soup outside your door, please make sure you eat it and drink water!”

“thank you.”

“okay, bye, i love you!”

“i love you more”

she’s always doting on you, making sure your happy and satisfied

if you’re eating together she would make sure you are full before she finishes her plate just in case you want more

at community events her eyes would always return to you even when she’s in conversation with someone else

“she’s fine y’know? just the spring dance.” jesse would say after her looking over at you for the tenth time in their 15 minute conversation

“i know. i just like looking at her.” it wasn’t a lie, but she was still just making sure you were okay

ai audios:

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams hcs

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shewrites444 · 1 year

Text

over [xavier thorpe x reader smut]

[written by me and only me. i have been super busy so it's a little shorter than usual, but i hope you still enjoy lovies ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀)]

PART 2 LINKED HERE

word count - 1.4k

[summary: the reader, a normie, works with xavier during his shift at their local coffeeshop, where she learns about his crush on his classmate, wednesday, and intends to help him forget about it.]

[warnings: risky, public, dirty talk, oral, fingering]

"yeah, he never shuts up about her. it's kind of cute, honestly. tyler likes her a lot."

"what, no way! i don't know how she can like such an asshole!" xavier shouts in frustration, rubbing his forehead and leaning his elbows against the counter while i watch with a giggle, setting down one of the mobile orders on the endpiece.

i shake my head and walk past him to grab the next ticket, playfully nudging at his side. the lovesick boy was fairly attractive, i'd admit, but he was head over heels for this girl, considering he was already drooling over her to me, his coworker during his pilgrim world volunteer hours.

"don't get so fed up about it, dude. if she wanted you, she'd make it clear. tyler said she can be confusing, so i'm sure she is probably messing with the both of you." i explain, grabbing the cold brew from the fridge. "you may have to play the long game and wait. i'd suggest not doing that though, to save your mental health, you know."

xavier sighed, handing me a lid for the plastic cup after i poured the ice in. "i don't understand how you're so casual, and brutally honest, about all of this. haven't you had a crush before, just one you can't forget about?"

"obviously, we all do." i say, placing the new drink next to the other. i turn to face him, crossing my arms and shrugging. "but i just forget about guys. they're either too emotional, or have no emotions at all. it's better to just be single, and alone. you should try it - you look miserable."

"gee, thanks, [y/n]. best coworker ever. can't wait to spend two more hours with such a nice, lovely girl." xavier rolls his eyes, pressing the back of his body against the counter and looking down.

i smirk, walking over to the boy and lean against the counter aside him. i glance down, laughing softly. "you'd be a pretty cool dude to talk to for the next two hours if you weren't so down bad for a girl who just uses you for that sherlock homes shit she's trying to do."

"she doesn't use me."

i quirk my brow, tilting my head and crosses my arms at his statement.

"okay, at times. but that doesn't make her a bad girl!"

i sigh, throwing my arms into the air playfully. "here we go again! xavier picking the worst girl to like."

"shut up." xavier grins, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned back up. "let me live in my fantasy to help me feel better. like you said, long game."

"mhm. have fun with that." i tease, as i watch another paper print for a mobile order and walk past xavier, grazing my side against him as i lean up to reach for the sheet. i can feel a heat in my body from what i just did, biting my bottom lip as i grab the sheet and press it against the cup, feeling a presence behind me and seeing a shadow formulating aside me.

i turn around to see him standing infront of me, his hands both pinned against the counter on each side of me. i scoff, rolling my eyes with a grin. "so you'll try to use me, like wednesday does to you, as a distraction for your overall goal, because you're bored. funny."

"and you'll try to use me, like every other guy, so that you're a little less lonely every now and then. funny." xavier tilts his head, looking down at me with a smirk. "and i bet you find it kinky or some shit that i'm an outcast, too."

i set the cup down, moving one hand down to press against his pants. "if that's what you think my definition of kinky is, then i'm honestly a bit offended."

"then what's your definition?" he says as he leans himself down, pressing his lips against the top of my ear. "why don't you show me."

"why don't you get on your knees then." i snap back, moving one of my hands to hold the back of his head and nudge him down, watching as he followed what i asked.

i watch his khaki pants hit the tile floor as he tucks his hair behind his ears before reaching over to my shorts, unzipping them and sliding them down to my ankles, before he sticks one of his fingers into his mouth and into my entrance. i gasp, moving one hand to his head to guide him more towards me.

his tongue attaches to my clit as he begins to suck on it, one finger pumping itself in and out of me while he looks up to me, our eyes locking before i look up to the ceiling, closing my own while he stimulates me. one of my hands holds his hair as the other rests on the counter, which reminds me of where i actually am.

my eyes widen and i look around, noting that no one is in the coffee shop but in a way, it turned me on to know xavier was willing to do this regardless of where we were. i feel him slide another finger inside, snapping me out of thoughts and back to the knot that was forming in my stomach.

"you like that, [y/n]?" xavier pulls away from my clit, leaning himself back up to face me, now towering over me, while he pushes my body against the counter, helping me get on top of it, my ass pressed against the cold counter while he pumps his fingers into my warmth.

i lean my head against the cabinet and nod, a grin on my lips. "maybe, but that doesn't matter. it's not enough for me."

he smirks, looking down to push a third finger inside without hesitation, taking his free hand to hold the side of my face while he begins to rapidly pick up his pace, glancing down at me with the same stupid smile printed across his face from cheek to cheek.

i grip the counter with both of my hands, leaning up to press my lips against his for the first time during this entire encounter. i open my mouth to allow his tongue in, feeling my own juices touch my tongue while we continue to make out.

he persists, obviously trying to get me to reach my climax, as he aggressively finger fucks me against the counter. i bite his bottom lip, letting a small moan slip between our lips, which causes xavier to grin immediately upon my slip up. i earn one back from xavier as i reach over to his pants, unbuckling the buckle with one hand and sliding my hand into to rub against his hard length through his black boxers. i feel the boy sink against me, weak from any form of my touch.

"you don't know what i'd do for you to fuck me, [y/n].. you're so fucking hot.. fucking hell..." he moans against my lips as he slows down his pace, pulling his fingers out of my slowly, and attaching his thumb to my clit as he begins to rub, pulling his lips away from mine and looking down to lock out eyes. "do you want me to fuck you? hm? i'd fuck you right here, i don't care who sees. you're so fucking hot."

i tilt my head, slowly closing my legs enough to where his thumb was still able to remain attached to my clit. if there was anything that turned me on, it was playing games. if he really wanted me, he wouldn't give up.

"i think we both have work to get to, xavier. don't you think?"

he pulls his hand away a few seconds after my words, his eyes wide as he watches me shut my legs and slide off the counter, leaning down to pull my pants back up.

"no way." he buckles his belt back, leaning against the opposite side of the counter as he crosses one leg over to hide the erection straining from his pants.

i grin, walking back over to grab a cup for the order that i was supposed to make who knows how long ago. as i scoop the ice, i glance to xavier. "you like teases, clearly. but if it makes you feel any better, your girl is definitely missing out. so act the way you acted with me, with her."

xavier stands up, walking towards me and handing me the milk for the drink, watching me pour it as he wraps one arm around my waist, leaning down to peck the side of my forehead.

"i think my interests lie somewhere else at the moment." he grins, his other hand snaking behind me to grab me by the jaw, moving my head towards him to meet our eyes. "so this isn't over."

#xavier thorpe smut #x yn #xavier thorpe #x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #netflix wednesday #smut writing #fanfic #wednesday fanfic #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x reader

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eimids · 6 months

Text

Loving you is all I need

Leah Williamson x reader fluff

Leah and reader get stuck in an elevator together while they are fighting.

this is just a quick blurb

warnings: slight angst but also fluff

Words:650

"Hold the door" You yelled as you ran to the elevators. You and Leah had been fighting the previous night so you were a bit late to training. Someone sticks their arm out of the elevator to keep the doors from closing.

"Oh.. hi Lee" You said when you realized who was in the elevator.

"Hi Y/n"She said coldly to you and pressed the button with number six on it.

"are you seriously still mad at me? You never call me by my name it’s always some nickname" You frowned a little.

"I'm not mad. Just disappointed. I thought you wanted to get married with me but guess not" Leah said sounding hurt.

"But I do want to-" You started when the elevator stopped. You fell to the ground from the sudden stop.

"Shit y/n/n, are you okay?" Leah asked clearly worried.

"Yeah I think I am but my ankle hurts a little" You answered. Leah didn't respond but started pushing different buttons to call to someone that the elevator stopped.

"It's not working. Fuck this. Why there would read that if you push that button it would call somewhere when it doesn't fucking work" Leah said panicking a little.

"Leah calm down. Come and sit with me. Soon someone will realize that we didn't show up to training." You said to the blond woman.

She sat down next to you and calmed her breathing. You sat there a while in an awkward silence until you spoke.

"I'm sorry that I said no to your proposal but you never really gave me a chance to explain myself. You just got sad and left" You started.

"Well can you explain now. Whe have been together for 3 years and we have known each other for ten so what's the problem here? Or do you just not love me anymore?" Leah asked shyly.

"Oh Lee nothing like that. I love you so much and you know that. I won't ever leave your side. But it's just.. You remember how messy the divorce was between me and ex. It wasn't good for anyone and my mental health went so low. I just don't want to go through that again" You answered with tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Sweet I would never hurt you. I wouldn't cheat you like she did. I will do anything to protect you and I just want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have kid's with you and I want to grow old with you. I don't want to spend another day alone. All I want is you my love"

"Okay then ask me " You said quietly.

"Huh?" Leah asked confused.

"Aske me again" You said again and Leah flipped you to sit on her lap. She looked right in your eyes and asked.

"Y/f/n. Will you marry me?" Leah asked smiling.

"Yeah" You answered laughing and crying and then kissed the blonde.

You sat there kissing passionately a while, own bubble. Suddenly the elevator started moving again and you had to snap back to reality.

Soon the doors opened and Leah stood up, then helping you. You then walked to the team room. You were limping and Beth came running to you.

"Oh My God. Are you guys okay?" Beth asked worried, Viv by her side.

"Better than ever." You said smiling. Then you looked at Leah and kissed her.

"Sooo we have some news for you guys" You started.

"Don't say you too are leaving Arsenal" McCabe said quickly.

"What, no! Why would you think that?" Leah asked laughing.

"I just saw a dream about it. Did you guys know th-" Katie started but Buv interrupted her.

"Just tell us the news" Viv said inpatient.

You looked at each other and said.

"We are getting married"

#woso x reader #woso community #woso #leah williamson #blurb #angst #fluff

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rapunzelbro · 3 months

Text

Imagine Husk Finding Out You Relapsed

Im going to be on a hiatus and post here and ther. My mental health is causing me to not be as inspired. Anywho this is kinda a comfort fic and was hard to write so sorry in advance

Masterlist Taglist

When you started your path to redemption it meant having to stop your addcition that you carried over from before you were dead

It was a struggle to say the least but Husk was there to help you through all your shit.

He knew of all your nervous tendencies that led you towards reaching out for the drugs and offered alternatives which really helped

He constantly checked your room for drugs and when he found them, he never yelled

“What’s got you feeling like you need them?”

“I don’t know who I am without them”

That was always your excuse and he helped you but you just couldn’t let go of your struggles no matter how hard you tried

You and Husk making a deal that he would stop gambling in exchange for you to stop which was a major deal on his end

You agreeing and it going well up until you suddenly just loose it entirely.

Snapping at Angel Dust over some shit you two get in an argument about and leaving the hotel

Husk leaving to find you later at the bar that was packed. And you were with a bunch of others doing drugs before you followed behind before leaving from the back

You instantly regretting it when someone takes you and leads you out of the bar using his arm to support yourself

“Oh fuck no”

Husk quickly shooting the man before he could try any bullshit on you when you two made it outside and you falling from no support side he just died

Husk catching you instantly

“Doll.. why?”

You just not responding not having an answer for to as he takes you back to the hotel. And to your room

Angel glancing over at you, knowing exactly what you did and he feels slightly guilty to cause you to reach back towards her past

Husk placing you on your bed

“Y/n I’m not mad but why?”

“I don’t know.. I really don’t know”

You ending up crying trying to explain to him your best while he just listens to you, it breaks him hearing you like this.

“I’ll stick by your side until this is all resolved okay?”

“You.. you promise?”

“Yes doll I promise”

He keeps his word and this time you keep yours. And you finally have someone who is more important than your past

Husk

Husk Taglist: @saturnhas82moons @mixplara @aphestina @brithedemonspawn @vendetta-ari

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin vox

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stitched-mouth-vs-the-world · 7 months

Text

In The Dark Of The Night

Pairing: Valak / The Nun x Fem! Nun! Reader.

Summary: After arriving and joining the Covent you so didn't wish to join, Valak takes a liking to you.

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex (fem receiving), Tongue fucking, Fingering, Intercourse (P in V), Masturbation, Voyeurism, Unprotected sex, Overstimulation. Mention of reader possibly catching an STI from Valak and his ashy lips. Reader smokes weed.

Writing Time: 3 hours.

Word Count: 2251.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 6.

A/N:

Had a ball figuring this shit out. Started writing this at 1am, it's now nearly 4am and I have to be up in 2 hours 😁🔫 Think about that when the reader is crying about not getting enough sleep. I love this fic but I think Valak is very OOC, this is my first time writing him so hopefully I'll get better at it. Valak is referred to as 'The Nun' and with they/them pronouns (until they whip out their dick 😁) since I was semi writing fron the reader's perspective and they have no idea what Valak's name is or what they identify as. But I do write Valak as male, so they are male here it's just doesn't know until near the end.I'm tired so I didn't research Nuns and Covents before writing this, which I probably should of done but who cares since the movies do a poor job of explaining them? I'm sure y'all only came for the smut. I'll fix it when if I feel like it. Valak has ashy lips cause I said so.

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober 2023 works.

---///---

Something felt off, to say the least. You felt more uneasy in this new unfamiliar place than any other place.

When your father announced you'd be attending this new place, you were furious. Well, furious and heartbroken. He had written you off to become a nun because it was the easiest way to send you away. And all for wait? Because you had recently been having issues with your mental health and he couldn't deal with it? Or did he need you needed Jesus?

Either way, you started hating him on the drive here. And once you stepped foot in this place and felt the almost sicken bad vibes.

The teachers had been just as you expected. Strict, never smiling and so obviously loved having power over others. Others being the new not yet devoted Nuns or freshly devoted Nuns.

You was gonna hate it here.

You had met your new sisters and to be honest, none of them mattered to you. You weren't in any kind of mood to make friends, but you hoped that would change. You didn't want to be alone here.

The only Sister that seemed like friend material was Sister Irene. She had that kind and friendly spirit that you thought all Nuns should have.

But seriously, something wasn't right around here. You couldn't place your finger on it and honestly, you hoped you never could.

—-///—-

You tried to get comfortable in your new bed, but it seemed impossible. Like the Devil was purposely making the springs press into your back and then laughing at your discomfort.

You huffed as you gave up and got out of bed. You grabbed your carefully stashed away blunts and lighter and headed for your window. Unlocking the old window proved to be a little bit of a challenge but you managed.

You started at the sky as you smoked, the affect of the weed slowly crawled into you and eased you. You leaned against the wall of the window and slowly looked around your room. The atmosphere suddenly changed back to uneasy and even more so.

Something...or maybe someone caught your eye. You had spotted a figure in your room, in front of your bedroom door. It was so dark, you couldn't make out any features. Just the outline of a body.

It freaked you out to say the least and you knew you wasn't that high so this was real. It had to one of your Sisters right? Here to snitch on you for smoking a joint...right?

"If you're here to catch me up to something, well, you caught me. So what are you waiting for now? Go ahead and snitch." You called out.

No response. You were quiet for a few seconds, just staring at the figure. You then sighed a bit before drawing another drag and offering it up to the mysterious figure.

"Or do you want some?"

The figure suddenly disappeared and you couldn't see where it went. You stood up properly in fear and looked around again, you saw nothing. The room looked completely normal even in the dark but certainly didn't feel normal.

You nervously put out the blunt and crawling back into bed. You told yourself it had to have been the pot, even if you didn't feel that high it must of been that. Maybe your dealer gave you something different this time, some pot laced with something. God you hope it was just that. It has to be just a bad trip.

Fortunately, you managed to fall asleep fairly quickly after that. Bud seemed to be just what you needed to fall asleep. You would get you was asleep for maybe a little over an hour before you stirred awake.

Wonderful, awake again, and it only just turned 1am and you were gonna be woken up at 6am. Delicious, this is gonna be a night full of broken up sleep. You looked up to face the ceiling and hopefully fall asleep again, just get those much needed extra hours.

But you couldn't. And you didn't feel like smoking again, so you did the next best thing. Placed both feet against the bed with your knees bent and pushed a hand past your underwear. You carefully fingered yourselves with two fingers. As your pleasure built up, you closed your eyes and focused simply on your own pleasure. A few moaned slipped out of your mouth and when you felt although you was ready, you added another finger.

You lost yourself in your pleasure and smiled as you neared yourself closer to the edge. It didn't take too long, considering how sleepy you already was. But right as you felt your orgasm building, you opened you eyes. And boy did you regret it.

When you opened your eyes, your attention quickly went to the foot of your bed where another figure appeared. And this time, you could see their features. It was Nun, with a terrifying face say the least. You knew it wasn't another Sister because of their lovely face which was smirking down at you, giving you a lovely view of their sharp fangs. Their eyes glowing a piercing yellow.

'Hell no, not today Satan. Please no.' Is what you thought as you, now fully wide awake, threw your covers off, ripped all fingers out of your pussy and made a beeline for the door. You were stopped by a force that only could of been supernatural and air yeeted back onto your bed. You screamed as loud as you could and the creepy looking Nun inched closer and closer to you.

"Oh Baby, don't scream. Don't cry." The Nun pouted down at you and touched your right cheek.

Obviously, you screamed even louder. The Nun's soft expression disappeared almost as soon as it came and they clamped a hand down across your mouth and squeezed.

"Shut up, now." It's tone now gruff and aggressive.

You looked up at them in fear whilst noticing some strange beauty in their face and soon started crying, "Please don't hurt me."

"Oh Dear," Their soft tone suddenly back, "I'm not here to hurt you... I just wanted to help."

"H-Help?" You whispered.

The Nun gave you a smile and headed down south. You thought the smile was supposed to be comforting but it felt so evil and unsettling, it had the opposite the affect. You felt your heart beat faster in fear, the way your heart starts beating when your about to have a panic attack. It definitely didn't help that you still couldn't move and was completely immobilised by this supernatural force.

The Nun pulled your panties down to your knees, not bothering pulling them down all the way and quickly got to work. Their tongue was... something you had experienced before.

It was wet, messy and far too big to be normal. It was driving you insane. If you had to guess from just the feeling, this monster's tongue was almost the same size as the average dick. It quickly turned you into a moaning mess. Your cries became cries of pleasure and you orgasmed almost immediately. Either you was still worked up from fingering yourself, which was unlikely considering the brief heart attack you just had, or this Nun was unstoppable with their tongue.

The Nun gave you two more orgasms with their tongue before coming up. They looked down at you and smirked again. You could see now, their black lips and tongue were black from ash. It was all over their mouth and chin and you was now consumed with worry, hopefully now of that ash got caught in your pussy. Which STI would you get from that?

You hadn't noticed but the Nun had started pulling up their skirt and pulling at something underneath it. Out sprang the biggest dick you had ever seen.

Nope, that wasn't normal, if you saw that monster on any human man you'd tell them to see a Doctor. Cause 12.5 inches (you're estimating based on looks) is not normal. The Nun grinned and stared down at your terrified face as he pumped himself.

You looked up at him, "That's not going inside me."

"Yes it is." He stated matter of factly still smiling at you.

"It will kill me." You responded with a glare.

Whilst you was still a little iffy about the penis size, your fear was starting to melt away and you was no longer afraid to talk to this creature. It could be the dizziness from the multiple orgasms you just had but this was starting to feel like a normal not scary sexual encounter.

"I'll make it work." The Nun shrugged.

"Ok, but I need to know your name first." You told him.

The demon was silent for a few seconds, "I don't usually give my name... but I suppose you will need something to scream so. It's Valak."

Valak thrusted into you immediately after that, not giving you much time to adjust. You screamed in pain but Valak placed a hand over your mouth again and tsked at your vocals, as if you was the problem. He then pulled off your panties completely and shoved them in your mouth without warning, you choked a little and Valak moaned at the sound.

Fortunately Valak hadn't pushed all of himself inside of you, only the first few inches (which is still a whole dick, Valak, but ok) and didn't go any further than that. He moved in and out at normal pace, not seeming to care at all about your cervix which he was currently beating up with his monster cock.

But despite all the complaints, you was starting to love it. Once you had adjusted, you was moaning and crying again. Tears ruining your vision and making Valak more aroused therefore making him move faster.

He groaned as he fucked up and glared down at you, completely focused on your face. Deciding this wasn't enough, he bent your legs back as far as they could go, up to your head and leaving you in a mating press. This gave him more opportunity to add a couple more inches without hurting you as much.

You cried, screamed and whined as the creature defiled you. You felt filthy, absolutely disgusting. But also alive. Something you hadn't felt before. You were squirming and whimpered from a dick too big for your little pussy to comprehend and you loved it. It was now you realised there was no chance you could married to God, you was enjoying such a lewd act, letting a demon fuck you dumb, way too much.

"Please! More!" You whined against your panties.

Valak heard you loud and clear and pressed a thumb on your clit. He would of preferred to sink his whole dick into you but knew it would be too much.

He then leaned down and spat on your mouth. Most of it was immediately soaked up by your panties, which irritated the shapeshifter. So he pulled your panties out of your mouth and spat again.

"Swallow whore." He hissed at you.

You eagerly did as you was told, hoping there would be a reward. And there was, the demon grinned down at you again when he saw you followed orders well, and then shoved his whole tongue in your mouth.

He tasted just as you expected, like ash and death.

As you noticed before when he was eating you out, his tongue was not normal either. It was way too big and long, just like his dick. It filled up your mouth and made you choke slightly. But soon like before, once you adjusted to the size, you was moaning like a slut again.

You came again, you didn't know which number this one but it was definitely better than the last. But you were feeling drained now, overstimulated. You had no idea when Valak would cum though and it made you nervous, surely he would stop once he came you thought. But then, when would he cum? A demon's limit must be far greater than a human's.

And you was right, Valak could fuck for hours without cumming. And that's what he planned to do. He wanted to know what you looked like, excessively overstimulated.

You really wished you hadn't found out what made this place so off.

#stitched #stitched mouth #stitched talks #stitched’s kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #stitched writes #the nun #the nun ii #the nun x reader #the nun smut #valak x reader #valak #valak the nun #valak smut

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sunray-222 · 4 months

Text

Second to you. | C.S

warnings: angst, asshole chris, strong language, breakups, lmk if i miss anything

————————————————————————

when you and chris started dating, it was because you loved him for who he was. not the fame, not what he could bring you, just him. and chris was so in love with you, initially. chris was your escape, from your stresses, your mental health, everything.

chris was your go to. “i’ve got you no matter what baby. i promise.” he’d said it to you countless times, at first it was sweet but the course of your relationship currently, now it felt like he thought he was obligated to say it.

things lately had been rather, intense between the two of you. and not in a good way. you two barely talked, when you did it felt as if chris was always annoyed with you. you slept together, but a million miles apart. it just wasn’t the you and chris that you were used to.

“so, are we going to that party tonight?” you asked, hopeful eyes. maybe going out will bring out the better in you two.

“prolly’ not.” chris mumbled, not even looking up from his phone. “oh, baby please. we haven’t been out in forever?” you begged again, and chris only rolled his eyes as he continued scrolling.

you bit back the tears and the arguing, just wanting one day where you guys don’t fight. you went about your day deciding that whether or not chris went out with you, you and your friends and nick were going.

it was roughly 7:30 when chris decided to pay attention to you, and the short dress you landed on.

“where are you going?” he asked, his tone uneasy as he watched you carefully. “out, the party remember?” you asked, eyes widened as you explained.

“uh.. i guess i don’t remember you bringing that up.”

“course you don’t.” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “if i’d have said it naked chris i don’t think you’d realize then.”

and it only continued. the uncomfortable tension didn’t die down, it got worse matter of fact.

“you’re always on the fucking phone, of course you don’t listen.” you cried, voice horse. the two of you had been arguing for what felt like hours, over chris not paying attention to you.

“i’m always on the fucking phone because you’re fucking paranoid y/n. over everything. and it’s leaking out on me. i can’t handle all this shit y/n it’s exhausting.”

“you’re exhausted? try talking to someone who makes you feel like you’re fucking background noise. who makes you feel like you’re the second choice to their phone!” you yelled back, “and on the topic of being fucking paranoid it all started when you started shutting me out you fucking dick.”

you stomped away, slamming the bedroom door in his face. “don’t shut my fucking door in my face, you forget you moved in with me this is my shit y/n. chill your fucking ass out!” he screamed, slamming the door behind him.

“god why do you fucking hate me now?” you asked, tears streaming as you laid on the bed back away from him.

“i don’t. you’re being overdramatic and over reacting to fucking nothing.” chris sighed, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor and rubbing his hands over his face.

“i’m going to bed.” you cried, reaching up to turn the lamp off.

“whatever, y/n/n.” chris mumbled, grabbing a blanket and heading to sleep on the couch.

weeks had gone. and the silence was unbearable. and it had all hit you like a ton of bricks when matt asked you, matt who lived with you, “are you two even still together?”

you’d made your mind up then.

it’d been two days since matt asked, and subtly you’d been packing your bags, preparing to stay with one of your friends until you’d figured something out.

it was about 10 o’clock when you hear the sound of matt’s van pulling in and the doors shutting. you sat on the bed, with your bags all around you.

a rough 5 maybe even 10 minutes later chris finally makes his way into the room.

“you havin’ a slumber party or something?” he laughed, standing in front of the dresser pulling night clothes out. “i’m leaving, chris.”

the room fell silent. and chris was trying to fully wrap his head around your sentence. “okay, are you visiting family?”

it was a stupid question, you both knew that. you both also knew chris wasn’t fully grasping reality here. “no, christopher, i’m leaving you.”

“no, no. y/n you’re not, if this is about the fighting i’m sorry i was a dick, i’ll do better.” chris explained, panic in his voice as he turned around. “no, christopher. i tried to get you to change,” you huffed, looking down, you knew that if you looked him in the eyes it’d be immediate tears.

“y/n, please baby. i was just stressed, we can go somewhere just us i’ll turn my phone off better yet i’ll leave it here please baby. i’m sorry.” his voice cracking, it’s as if tears were going to slip any second.

“no chris. no. you were all i had, all i have if i’m being honest with myself. and i wish you all the best in the world. but i’m tired of feeling like i have to compete with your phone, and honestly yourself for your attention. i’m through letting you beat me down everyday.” you explained, pushing his hands off of your lap.

“y/n, it was just stress i promise i’ll do better.” his eyes filled with tears as he sat in the floor in front of you.

“chris i don’t even think you’re crying because we’re done, i just think you don’t wanna be alone.” you mumbled, standing up and going towards the door.

“i’m through letting you destroy me by being with me but not really being with me. i love you chris, but i have to love me more.”

sad, short, and angsty. love y’all lmfao

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo angst

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buckybarnesb-tch · 10 months

Note

Hi, can I make a request about Yandere Bucky when he is your therapist and after you tell all your shit he falls in love with you (I would like to have a little jealousy from him for the boys you are with)

Love your work <3

Yandere Therapist!Bucky

This was a very interesting one to write. I’m really starting to love writing AU’s of both Bucky and Klaus

Bucky knew very quickly that he was in love with you.

You sought out a therapist when you started having panic attacks more frequently and you met with 3 before walking into James Barnes office. He was polite, gentle and understanding in a way you had never experienced from any man in your life up to that point and that’s why you decided to come back again, and again, eventually deciding to meet with him once a week.

He was a very kind man. You talked about things with him that you had never told anyone before and he understood that, you appreciated how he would ask a question and change the subject to something lighter when you became overwhelmed, making a note to circle back to it later, never wanting you to become too upset but also pushing you just enough to begin making progress with your mental health.

You looked forward to your time with James, who had insisted on your third visit that you just call him Bucky. He made you so comfortable that you felt like you were talking to a friend and when you expressed that he told you that’s exactly what he wanted, for you to feel comfortable and safe in his office to discuss the painful experiences in your life, of which there were many.

Bucky however, by the end of your first session, he had fallen head over heels in love with you. He ensured you would be coming back to see him, it didn’t feel like work to talk to you, and he wanted to know everything there was to know about you. He could admit to himself he had become a bit obsessed…completely obsessed.

After your third session he made sure he had no other clients that evening and he hopped into his car, following you home to find out where it was you lived with the man you called your boyfriend.

Bucky hated Max.

Max was a physically and emotionally abusive asshole that you couldn’t find your way out from under. He had manipulated you into complete dependency on him and Bucky didn’t just hate him, he was Jealous. He wanted you to look at him like that, as the man to provide for you, as the man to take care of you, as the man for you to love with your whole heart.

He hated every man you had ever spoken with him about. When you and Bucky had started getting into talking about your sex life his jealousy got infinitely worse. He loved how honest you were with him, trusting him with your experiences and fantasies, even trusting him with your painful and scary experiences which he hated that you had been forced to live through. He decided he would make sure that you would never suffer again.

James Barnes was going to be your lover, your boyfriend, your Daddy. He was going to be your everything and you would love every minute of it.

‘I know that it’s scary for you Doll, but this relationship as you’ve described it to me isn’t healthy. You’ve told me about his abuse and his explosive rage, you’re not safe in his house, it’s not a home for you. Men are supposed to be gentle and caring with their women, that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun in the bedroom however you want but a man should never put their hand on you in anger.’ James explained, placing his notebook down and standing up. ‘May I?’ He asked and you nodded, moving over so that he could sit beside you on the couch. ‘I want you to let me hold you, you need to experience what kind touches from a man are like. I think if you feel them, then you’ll understand a bit better how important they are. If that’s okay, of course. I would never do anything you were uncomfortable with.’

‘I…yeah, it’s okay, um…how do…?’ He smiled at your awkward feelings, holding his arms out.

‘Come here Doll, let me hold you.’ Y/n moved closer to his side, leaning into his chest and sighing as his arms wrapped around her.

‘Now what?’

‘Just enjoy it. Hold on.’ Bucky lifted her up and moved to lay himself back against the couch so she was laying on his chest and he held her firmly, pressing his lips to her forehead. ‘There you go beautiful girl, you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. I’ll keep you safe.’ His fingers brushed through her soft hair as he fought with his cock in his mind to not get excited no matter how desperate he was to have you ride him like this. It was only about 30 seconds of cuddling before he felt her sobbing into his chest and he immediately held her tighter, rubbing her back and kissing her head. ‘I know. It’s okay Darlin, this is how it’s supposed to feel. You’re supposed to feel safe with your man.’

‘I’ve never felt safe like this…wish I had met you somewhere else.’ She teased and he chuckled along but he knew it didn’t matter where or when they had met, because Y/n was going to be his now.

Bucky kept that up as he began seeing her twice a week, every session went like that from then on. He would spend 30 minutes talking to her before moving to sit beside her and hold her to his chest once again and she never once complained, often being quite unhappy when the hour was up and it was time to go home. He loved that.

A session later he began kissing her head, then her cheek and the week after that he pressed their lips together quickly before ending that session and she was red as a tomato. He loved how sweet and innocent she was even after all of the pain she’s suffered. In their next session he found her burying her face into his neck, nuzzling as close as she could and he tested the waters a bit brushing his hand slowly from her lower back to her butt, caressing her ass gently but she never made any indication she was upset by it. He moved himself a bit and made it seem natural before bending his leg up between hers so his thigh was pressed right against her pussy. She whimpered in his ear as she fidgeted and he enjoyed her reactions quite a bit, trying to suppress his cock as it responded to her hot breath against his neck. He didn’t move again, just allowing her to be comfortable with him touching her like this no matter how difficult it was.

It was that next session that he broke her.

He had maneuvered her into the same position as 3 days ago, face in his neck, straddling his thigh before he pressed his leg more firmly into her, hearing her loud moan though she tried to muffle it. ‘Oh god! I’m sorry, I-‘

‘No, no sorries. Just relax pretty girl.’ He moved the same way once again and her hips rutted down against him as her fingers tightened into his shirt. ‘There you go. Feels good, doesn’t it?’ Y/n nodded into his neck as her body continued moving, grinding down on his leg until she was riding it like a desperate whore and Bucky was living for it. He was in heaven as his girl moved herself on him in ways he only imagined before. ‘That’s it, keep going. Use me Doll, make that pretty pussy feel good, you deserve to feel so good.’ One of his hands held her ass while the other trailed up the back of her shirt to touch her soft skin for the first time. ‘He doesn’t do this for you, does he? Does he make your cunt drip all over him?’ She shook her head frantically, so high on her pleasure he didn’t think anything could shake her out of it right now. ‘Dumbass doesn’t deserve such a pretty pussy, or such a wonderful girl. A good man would never treat you like that.’ He said it in such a way that he knew she would equate that good man to him, she was already half in love with him before, he hoped to push her over the edge today by literally pushing her over the edge. ‘Such a good girl.’ The moan that came out of her mouth was possibly the most desperate and needy sound he had ever heard, coupled with the sound of a sob and he quickly began moving his leg to help her finish faster. ‘It’s okay, just let it out, you cry if you need to precious. You’re a good girl, no matter what that idiot says. You’re so fucking good! No such thing as too needy with a good Daddy, I’m here. You’re safe baby, just…let go. Let go for Daddy.’

‘Oh God!’ She screamed, crying out in completion and desperation as she held tighter to his body. He held her to him and brushed through her hair gently as she came down from her intense orgasm and she was cuddled so close he believed she wanted to become one with his body. It was at that moment that the timer went off, letting him know that their hour was up and he slammed his hand against it to shut it up. ‘Shit!’

‘Don’t worry Y/n, it’s okay. I don’t have another client, just relax for a few minutes and-‘ she pushed herself off of him and quickly jumped up.

‘Im sorry, I should have done that! Oh God! I just assaulted you! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!’ She was frantic, moving to grab her bag as Bucky jumped up after her. ‘Don’t try and tell me it’s okay, that wasn’t okay! I’m a horrible person! You should never want to see me again-‘

‘And yet, I do. Relax Y/n, don’t you think if I didn’t want you to, I would have pushed you off? I’m plenty strong enough-‘

‘You felt sorry for me! Because of course you do! I’m so desperate for some affection that I just jumped my therapist, it’s fucking pathetic! I’m so-‘

‘If you say “sorry” one more time I’m going to take you ever my knee.’ He warned and she just whined, moving for the door. ‘Y/n!’ He caught her arm as she moved out the door and she wouldn’t look at him. ‘Please tell me you’re coming back? You’re scheduled for Tuesday and Friday, just please? Please come back?’ She hesitantly nodded before rushing out the door and leaving him to kick himself for pushing you too hard. He needs to get her back.

Tuesday came and went, she didn’t show up for the appointment and Bucky was worried. He drove passed her apartment and didn’t see any lights on, waiting there for a few hours but not once was there any movement. He called your cell and left a message for you, continuing to look for you after work Wednesday and Thursday just needing to see that you were alright.

When Friday came he was preparing to finish early that day since he assumed you weren’t coming until he heard the soft knock on his door, opening it to see you standing there with your hair covering your face which was odd, it was usually upon a ponytail or at least pinned away from your eyes. ‘Hey. I was getting worried about you, you didn’t call me back, I thought you were gonna skip out on me again.’ He moved and led her to the couch after shutting the door and sitting beside her. ‘Y/n? What’s wrong?’ Bucky moved to tuck her hair behind her ear and saw the purple color on her eye prompting him to tilt her head up. She had bruises around both of her eyes, her jaw was bruised and it looked a lot like finger shaped bruises, along with a split lip in 2 places. ‘Did he do this?’

Y/n nodded. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I…I tried to break up with him on Monday and this happened. I fell down the stairs and ended up in the ER, I stayed with my friend after that. My voice was messed up cause of the bruises on my throat, I didn’t want you to be subjected to that over the phone.’ She teased but his face let her know that he didn’t find it funny before he pulled her into his arms firmly.

‘Don’t you joke about this, this isn’t amusing to me. He could have killed you, I-I could have lost you!’ Bucky knew if there was ever a time to get to her it was now, she was already in love with him, this was the perfect moment to give her that final push. He pulled her onto his lap gently, not knowing where she was bruised and not willing to cause her harm before turning her head and pressing his lips to hers gently, not wanting to harm her split lip. She gasped against him but relaxed none the less into his body and into the kiss. ‘Please tell me you’re done with him? You can come and stay with me, I’ll take care of you! I can’t live without you anymore Princess, I just can’t!’

‘You’re my therapist, I can’t move in with you. That’s all kinds of illegal, you could get in so much trouble-‘

‘I stopped being your therapist the first time we cuddled in your session. I care about you so much Y/n, I can’t spend another minute without you in my arms. Please?’ His hand trailed up her back under her shirt as he kissed her neck over the bruises which he knew she loved.

‘Daddy…’ she whimpered, needy and desperate before Bucky couldn’t hold it in anymore. He spun them around so he pinned her to the couch, wrapping her legs around his waist, Y/n’s hands buried in his hair while his hips ground down against hers, letting her feel his hard cock pressed against her for the first time.

‘That’s right Princess, I’m your Daddy now, and you’re fucking mine!’ He couldn’t control the growl in his voice as he felt her sweet pussy pressed against him through their clothes, desperate to feel her warmth wrapped around him.

‘Oh God, I-‘ He cut her off with his hand around her throat.

‘Mine! You’re done with that fucking idiot, Daddies gonna take care of you now. Starting with taking you home and fucking this little cunt I’ve been desperate for since you sat on this couch your first day! Are you gonna be Daddies good girl?’ She nodded quickly, holding tightly to him, clearly needy for him now. Bucky knew that he wanted more than anything to fuck her in his office, however he also knew that once he felt her he would never pull his cock out of her again, he would be fucking her all night. He needed to get her home so that he could have his way with her and he knew she would do anything he asked of her right now. ‘Good.’ He yanked her up to her feet before bending down and hoisting her over his shoulder causing her to squeal before he slapped his metal hand painfully against her ass. ‘Let’s get you in the car. Daddy needs to feel your hot mouth around my cock.’

Her responding moan was all he needed. Y/n was his now and no one would take her from him, even if he needed to kill that punk asshole to ensure it.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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wroteclassicaly · 10 months

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A/N: I can’t sleep, I miss Eddie, and we still going through it, babes… So I channeled it into this. Love y’all, and thank you for making my dark days brighter ❤️

Warnings: Hurt that ends in comfort, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, fluff, depression, anxiety, mentions of past trauma/injury (Eddie’s wounds), & mental illness (reader has bipolar disorder).

The noise is soft, quiet enough that you can hear it if you lay to listen for a few seconds. Then it raises in octaves, a few clatters and curses. And despite the haze of your mood, a brief bit of fog dissipates, pinching your brow into an amused raise.

“Shit, fuckin’… slap my ass and call me your whore.”

You cover your mouth with a snort, as your fuzzy sock clad feet touch hardwood, and you make your way into the night light lit hallway. There’s a buttery glow from your kitchen that spills out around the corner, giving you a perfect view of your overly theatrical friend — Eddie Munson, as you come into the eye-line. He’s clad in a black t-shirt and whitewash jeans, his pizza decorated socks covering his own feet. His curls are damp, bordering on drying, and he hums a rhythm as you watch him flip a golden shaped object with your Goodwill gifted spatula. You perch yourself against the paneled wall, a warmth stirring in your belly.

He’s had to have used your spare key, and now he’s here before it’s barely even daylight — making something in your kitchen? First off, he wakes up this early? And second, he can cook?

That’s what leaves your mouth, following a series of scolding laughters when he’s clearly startled and drops the utensil on the stove. His rings clink together as he pinches his shirt collar, and you want to apologize, an instant guilt brimming you at surprising him like this. After everything that happened a few months ago, you really should’ve thought your entrance through (despite this being your own home). Eddie tuts, a smirk suddenly finding him amongst his Bambi eyed mirth.

“You scared the shit out of me, kiddo. Thought you were another hoard of bats coming for my other nipple.” He snatches up the utensil and flips it Steve Harrington style, calming your sudden anxiety, and easing your guilt.

You make your way over beside him, bare hip resting against the kitchen counter. He smiles softly, pouring in (what you now see is pancake batter) more of the mixture, flashing a wink your way. You look so fucking perfect and soft, just in socks, panties, and your oversized shirt with stars and crescent moon prints scattered about on it. He’s used to seeing this on you, but it never gets old. When you nursed him back to health after he was released from the hospital, you both grew a lot closer, having been mere acquaintances beforehand.

Changing his dressings, soothing his nightmares, helping him in and out of the shower — you took care of him in ways Eddie never knew existed. You were fearless, you were brave, you were funny, you were smart, you were beautiful and sexy, and as Nancy Wheeler had put it — he was totally fucking in love with you, like old classic — tickle your belly and balls type of romance movies. Once he had reluctantly left to return to the trailer with his uncle to repair the damage, he found that his desire to be near you had increased. And all was going well, until you started staying away from everyone, your voice languid and breathless when he’d call. He was worried it was your own processing of things that occurred, even if you’d been through it a few more years than he had, but Wheeler came through again with her knowing.

You were dealing with something that Eddie recognized as ‘manic depression’. He’d heard about it, seen it printed on the pamphlets in the nurse and guidance counselor’s office. Bipolar disorder. Nancy had explained (with the help of Steve) that you get like this sometimes, that it almost always follows your elevated periods of elated euphoria. Combine that with everything else that happened to you — Eddie immediately went into protective care mode.

He’d gotten up, showered, dressed, and phoned Harrington since he wasn’t able to drive yet. Steve came without question, especially fast on his way when Eddie mentioned the errands were for you. Both boys had gone to the local fabric shop, purchased the curtain and rod, tripped to the grocery store, and Steve had dropped Eddie off. He used his spare key and got to work on his speciality: chocolate chip flapjacks. He intended on surprising you with them, maybe waiting until he thought you were awake.

He didn’t mean to startle you, nor upset you. He’s quick to ease and relax, joking with you, praying you’re not mad that he’s here, invading you, your space, and whatever you’re going through.

Eddie flips the last cake, sprinkling in a few chips, and he’s flashing a cheshire grin, one that fades to a crooked tilt of his lips. “M’ sorry… I didn’t mean to, sort of… break in here? I planned on waiting — shit, that sounds creepy. No, I just wanted to have this ready for you… whenever you might, maybe want to have it?”

You cause his heart to swell ten times in size when you smile and reach up to push a lock of his curls off his forehead. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You’ve put an old movie on TV as you devour the fluffy, butter and syrup covered mountains. Whatever Happened To Baby Jane. Like you, Eddie is comforted by classic horror films, and can easily fall asleep to the controlled atmosphere they contain. When forks clatter against floral printed ceramic, and you take Eddie’s plate, deciding to forgo the dishes, he makes a beeline for the remaining bag, showing you the other items. You nearly cry on the spot, emotions circulating that you aren’t prepared to deal with today.

Turning off the living room television, you follow Eddie into your bedroom and help as he mounts the new rod and hangs your blackout bedroom curtains. And you… maybe sneak a few looks at the way his shirt rides up and his jeans tighten across his ass. It doesn’t take long before he’s got them secured, first breaks of dawn light spilling in through your blinds and illuminating his sweet features. Your fingers itch to touch, and you think he might reach for you, might feel the same wild, heart racing sense of vertigo, yet being serenely satiated.

“Oh yeah, here.” He slides his wallet from his back pocket, the chain dangling across his palm, and he pulls a small square card with a quote on it — out, handing it to you.

One day you will tell your story of how you overcame what you went through and it will be someone else’s survival guide

Below it, you recognize his doodling. A hand drawn, mini bouquet of daisies. He might not be able to afford real flowers, but he can use what skill he does have and draw them for you. He just hopes that you don’t mind. Your eyes are brimmed full of tears when he looks back up to catch your reaction. His gut sinks into his ass, and he fears he overstepped or set something off.

Hell, probably both.

He tries to backtrack. “No, hey. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to make you upset, sweetheart. I just… I was trying to find something to think of to say, because my words kind of get lost in my mouth, catapulting into the space of my brain.”

“Eddie, it’s okay.” Your voice is jagged, tone being dragged over fragments of emotion, throat swollen and damp with it.

He keeps going, more bold to be vocal now. “I think that it’s okay for you to ride it out here. You don’t need to force yourself into ideas of sunshine and physical activity. You’ve been through so much shit, and if your brain is on fire, then you deserve to put it out and let it fuckin’ rest.” He approaches you cautiously, tone gentle and warm like honey going down, almost raspy with it. “You don’t need to force yourself to be okay. Not with anyone, and sure as hell not with me. I mean, you’ve seen my guts hanging out and my nipple ripped off, I’d say we’re well past pretending, aren’t we?”

You’re speechless, body growing heavy and eyes tired. You can’t convey the hope that blooms, popping a bubble through the haze of the fog inside you. It’s not much, but it’s enough to help your psyche stop the race and let you breathe. Eddie is able to sense your fatigue, and he reaches out to squeeze your shoulders, motioning to the hall. “You close these on up and I’ll call you later tonight, yeah?”

He gets about two steps away from you and you’re calling for him. It’s comedic how fast he turns around. “Eddie? Will you stay?”

You’d turned the movie back on, on the set in your room, curtains closed and leaving the expanse shrouded in the glow of the set. Your head is resting on his chest, his jeans on the floor, legs tangled in yours beneath the patchwork quilt. The air conditioner is going, right along with the steady beating of two hearts, and Eddie doesn’t stop you when you knuckle-nudge his splayed palm up, pressing his fingers open to slide your own through. He accepts, squeezing, lacing, looking at you through the opening of light, and you lean into the kiss he presses to your crown. You’ll talk about things later, but for now… It’s okay.

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somnambulic-thing · 7 months

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wrong number 2.2k

A/N: Just had an idea for a fic I will very probably never write in a fully flashed out way because I have a million wips and no attention span and no deisre to have more wips but don't want to fully let this idea go to waste so here it goes in very shortened form and probably very messy and rough.

Eddie x afab!reader || imagine them in their early/mid 30s

cw: mental health themes, reader has a broken leg, angsty shit, fluff, happy end

You moved cities to have a fresh start after a rough time came to an even rougher but long overdue end. You know nobody here, a clean slate to draw new blueprints on.

Two weeks in and despite your grumpy hermit ways, you are friendly with some of your neighbours already. They are nice, helpful people which is a win you take like it was a million bucks.

Three weeks in, you fall down a flight of stairs, break your leg and bump your head. Brilliant.

Back from the ER you sink into your bed, looking at still unpacked boxes and biting back bitter tears of frustration when your phone beeps. You eye it suspiciously, anxious your past might be knocking already, bloodhounds of days past sniffing your weakend state and their chance to inflict a little more pain.

You figure you're overracting, turn on the sceen and find a message from an unknown number.

[Hey Rick. Sorry to drop this on you on such short notice, but I won't make it to your get-home-from-prison party tonight. I can swing by next week with a six-pack or something. You have a good time, yeah? I'll explain when we see each other.]

[Hey there. I'm afraid you got the wrong number. I don't know any Ricks. But gratulations to him from me for getting out of prison, when you get a chance. Unless he's a serial killer or something comparable. Then I want you to run.]

[Well, shit. Sorry.]

And then after a few seconds: [I get back to you in case I need a place to hide.]

And somehow this sparks a conversation that lasts for hours. His name is Eddie, you learn after some minutes of back and forth which are unsuspectedly remarkably funny. But he's surprisingly also really concerned about your leg and your mild concussion and the fact that you mentioned you will give yourself one day of rest and then try to catch up on and get as much stuff done as you can with your cast and crutches. Luckily you can work from home, you say. Eddie isn't sure how he feels about that.

He makes you swear you take it easy. He asks if there are people that can take care of you and you lie to that concerned stranger who is the first person to make you laugh out loud in a too long time. You tell him your friends are taking turns to look after you. Why lie to a stranger? It's complicated... He keeps checking in, keeps chatting with you about all kinds of things all day long no matter what he has to do: Work, band practice, DnD, being out with friends or his uncle, Eddie keeps lighting up your phone all day long. The later the day, the deeper your conversations and you soon get the feeling that Eddie isn't all just fun and jokes but when you actually try to poke softly, he evades you.

[When you feel better and still are interested in my bullshit, I'll share. Promise.]

Okay, fine. Why would he want to trust you with his private struggles? He's just a stranger, with friends and an support system, who probably will lose interest to invest his time into you sooner than he himself is expecting. Which is fine... really... would be fine if he wasn't really funny... and interesting with a hundred interests and hobbies... and so weird and oddly caring... and living on the other side of the country.

But four days in and you wake up with a text from him, asking you if you finally could sleep a little better than the days before.

And then at 3am and endless hours of exchanging messages filled with thoughs and musings and dreams, he offers to send you a copy of a book he is sure you would enjoy. That he really needs... you to read for important reasons. One of them is to remedy the boredom inflicted by bedrest in those hours Eddie is busy and can't entertain you.

You give him your address almost without second thought, despite your mind telling you to maybe think about it first...

You had avoided anything outside of texts - no pictures, no calls - and he hadn't pressed the matter by himself. Which was a relief because you're not sure if you could witstand the temptation if he were to offer.

Getting more pieces of him... It just felt too dangerous. But a book was just a book, right?

You rely on your 72 year old neighbour for food and other errands and chores around your place. Mrs P is such a sweet old lady eager to help as much as she can, bending over backwards for you. So you naturally try to bother her only when it's really dire.

Seven days in and you see the postman stuff a small parcel into your mailbox. You hurry to snatch your crutches, not even thinking about what you are doing and you limp down the six stories to your mailbox way too fast. Your head is not happy and neither is your leg and it takes you and your ego ages and all your strength to get back up to your apartment.

You fall into your bed, exhausted, sweaty and in pain and crying in frustration and you fall asleep on the package from Eddie before you can even think of opening it.

Your phone rings and wakes you up when it's already pitch black outside. You've slept most of the day away.

Answering the phone on autopilot, still half asleep you don't check the name on the screen.

"Yeah?" you drawl.

"Jesus fucking Christ you're alive."

"What--? I--"

"I haven't heard from you in hours and your messages sounded so antsy and sad all day and I had a bad feeling somehow. Are you ok? Did I wake you?"

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. Hi, that's my voice. Anxious edition."

You're overwhelmed. Finding no words while his words dig deep trenches of longing into your brain which are hard to get out of...

"You still there?"

"Uh-hn, yeah..."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just woke up, like you said. That's my voice. Sleepy edition."

And then he laughs. Oh god, what a sweet sweet sound.

"Hmm, sorry I just was really worried here..."

You tell Eddie there is nothing to worry about but that he's very sweet and he asks you if you have a little time to chat, tells you he likes your voice, likes it a lot and of course you have time but something weighs on you and the flutter of bats in your stomach.

You can't say if it's the aftershock of your staircase ordeal or the fact that your wonderful stranger keeps getting more and more real and more and more precious or a mixture of both. Suddenly there is silence on the other end of the line.

"Eddie? You still there?"

"Something's off."

You shuffle and feel the parcel poke into your ribs. You dig it out from under you, face heating up from two sources - the gift and his tone - and you start to fumble the parcel open.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't be. I just want to help. Let me help."

You finally fully unwrap the book. It's a well loved worn paperback copy. You run your fingertips over every wrinkles and cracks in the cover. Your voice sounds dazed to your own ears when you speak.

"I got your book..."

"Oh. Okay, yeah, great. And?"

You notice the excitement in his voice, notice that it matches your heartbeat when you open the book and find it full of notes. On some pages the margines are completly filled with Eddie's toughts.

"I just unwrapped it, like, ten seconds ago."

"Oh."

"I didn't realize you would send me... such a personal thing... looks like a diary..."

"Kinda is. Too weird?"

You stare at his handwriting which is somewhat of an elegant scratch and all those little sketches and something inside you gives way.

"I'm not okay..."

"I know. Tell me?"

You tell him that you lied, that there were no friends despite your eldery neighbor looking after you and you tell him about your little ordeal this afternon and about feeling tired and lonely and scared and starved for joy and he listens through it all.

Now it will be too much, you think but then you look at the book in your lap and keep talking. When you're done, there is silence on the other end.

"You still there."

"Processing."

"Mad?"

"Nope."

"Too much?"

"For me?" He chuckles. It's bitter and wonderful. "Sweetheart, it's not me who's dealing with all that shit right now. If you can handle living it, I can handle listening to it..."

"I hear you swallowing a but."

"But I know what you're talking about..."

You talk a little longer and despite him saying everything is alright, something is different. He seems distant, distracted, not fully with you. You keep leafing through that book, gently tracing the lines that are proof of his existance, marks he left in the world, preparing for him to ask you to send it back as soon as you can. You prepare for him to realize this was a mistake. A charity case gone wrong.

Eventually you get tired and a headache and he tells you to go rest, voice soft and deep and you're preparing for this to be the last time you'll hear it.

"Sleep well, yeah?"

No more sweetheart.

"I will. You too."

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

You have a restless night and wake up to a message from him.

[Good Morning. How did you sleep?]

You smile, feeling stupid, like you overreacted and you exchange some messages but they are short and flat and there is still no sweetheart. Around noon, your phone has gone silent. Inside your chest, the echoes of disapointment are deafening.

You bury yourself in his book, and it feels like you're having a conversation with him through his notes for they are like direct replies to your own thoughts about the story unfolding. You can't put it down, probably look up from it for the first time in hours late in the evening when you're full on crying, holding the book away from you to not get tears or snot on it.

And then there is a knock at your door. Three sharp raps. Quick.

And you think it must be Mrs P with your groceries, you feel guilty that she has to carry all the stuff upstairs while her knee is bothering her. You make your way out of bed, get your crutch and slowly move towards the door.

"Coming!"

You realize you still have the book in your hand and you wedge it under your arm to open your door and--

"Hi."

Your heart is racing as your mind tries to keep up with what is happening. You consider pinching yourself, consider reaching out to touch him, see if he's made of flesh and blood or delirium, feel the dip of a frown-made crease betwen his brows under your fingertips, the fine stubble on his cheeks under the slide of your thumb.

"That's my face. Worried edition... why are you crying?"

You lean against the crutch, wipe at your cheeks with one hand, dry your fingers on your shirt and pluck the book from under your arm, holding it up wordlessly. Eddie's face lights up in a big, wide, gorgeous smile. Now there are dimples you want to explore. Suddenly the floor is moving.

"Easy, easy." Warm hands steady you. You hear the door fall close behind you and then it finally dawns on you.

The dreamy guy from inside your phone is inside your flat.

He's holding you steady by your shoulders on outstreched arms, searching your face with big, incredibly dark eyes.

God he's fucking beautiful.

"You gonna faint, beautiful?"

You shake your head. That's all you can do.

"I'm going to use your very understandable shock to ramble for a moment, okay? Okay. The obvious first. What the fuck am I doing here without invitation? Offering you my help. I rearranged all my shit and I can stay for two weeks, if you like. I have a hotel room booked and ready if you don't want me to stay the nights. Next: Why didn't I ask on the phone first? Because I kinda feared you would just say no and be all tough and stupid about needing help. I am way more charming in person and I was counting on me actually being here, a real guy, showing you that I mean it, would make it easier to convince you... Am I pushy? Yeah. I guess I am. But... if you really want me to piss off again, I will piss off. We pretend that I was just getting back my book because you're not fit to get to the post office right now and I'll never bother you again... but I could stay and make you dinner while you tell me which part of the book made you cry, decide over my fate when you're fed and calmed down? I left a whole load of food with your neighbor downstairs. Nice lady. Thinks you're a stubborn thing, by the way."

You swallow around something enourmous and try your vocal cords on something simple.

"Hi."

He tilts his head, smiles softly.

"Hey sweetheart."

You inhale deeply. Your exhale either carries bravery or invites doom but suddenly you're really, really hungry...

"You're really here."

"Yeah, shit, I know... to be honest, my knees are really wobbly right now?"

"You're crazy."

"Hmm, totally... bad case... started about a week ago..."

And there you see it. He's nervous too. That finally makes him real.

"So," you say, reaching out to cup his cheek, your touch coaxing out those dimples again. "What's for dinner then?"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #long fics I will never write #my fic

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wosowrites · 1 year

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Mama Putellas (Alexia Putellas x Reader )

Warnings: ⚠️dislocated knee⚠️

A/N: From a request

Prompt: Reader gets injured during an important game, but the head coach doesn’t let Alexia leave the field. So Alexia’s mother whos in the stands goes with the reader. I had to rewrite all this because it didn’t damn save. Sorry if there are any typos. I was too tired to correct it.

You had gone viral a few times. Once, for scoring a bicycle kick from halfway through the opposing teams half, and another time for a pretty emotional speech you gave about feminism and mental health. What you never though you would go viral for, was for hammering your knee back into place with your bare fist in the middle of a game.

You were so excited for your 50 cap, starting once again the game for Barca. You were getting the honour of captaining the squad today, in recognition of you joining the 50 club. Your girlfriend, Alexia, couldn’t have been prouder.

You let out the team proudly and then did your captain duties. Coin toss, shaking hands.

The game started off strong, you, Mapi, and Lucy dominating the defensive line. Keira and Alexia was absolutely owning the midfield, and eventually, in the 17th minute, Keira scored a beautiful header from a cross by your girlfriend. You congratulated the young midfielder, and then high fived and hugged your girlfriend.

After the kick off, the ball somehow stayed in Real Madrids half for the next ten minutes. That is until their striker got a breakaway. You ran after her, trying to reach her. And you did. You bodied her off the ball and kicked it away, but due to her momentum, she ran into you anyways, sending you flying to the ground. Your body rolled over your head in a somersault fashion. But when you landed on your knee, you knew something was wrong. You looked at your knee from your sitting position to see your knee socket was completely popped out and sticking out the side.

You had always liked order, you were tidy and liked things to be where they belong. So seeing your knee like this… your only instinct was to fix it.

"Y/n, what’s goin-" Mapi started saying to you. "Holy shit." She breathed when she saw your knee. But you were already busy using your palm and hammering it into place. "Oh my god! Y/n! Stop!" Lucy yelled, seeing what you were doing. You ignored her and balled your hand into a fist before hitting it again.

Your scream filled Camp Nou, sending shivers to the spine of 99,700 people.

Your knee was back into place though, and so you let your body fall backwards, keeping a hold on your knee. "Baby," Alexia breathed, kneeling beside you and brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "Lexi- holy shit Lex." You panted, looking into her eyes. "That was crazy." Alexia said, trying to distract you. "Yeah crazy fucking stupid." You said.

The medics were there next, kneeling beside you. They told Alexia to go see Jonatan. The spaniard looked over to see the whole team drinking water, and Lucy vigorously re-enacting how you had hammered your knee back into place.

Alexia obeyed, and walked over to Jonatan. "I need to go with her." Alexia told him. "No way. I’m sorry but we’re 30 minutes in and this team needs you." Jonatan told Alexia. "Y/n is part of this team. And she needs me." Alexia argued.

The head coach gave the spaniard a look, telling her not to argue. So she did the next best thing.

Alexia ran the length of the field, ending up behind the opposing teams net. She knew her mother was sitting front row, having been so happy to see you get your 100 cap. You and Elisabet were close, even though she spoke little english, and you, little spanish, you made it work.

Alexia was quick to explain to her mother the situation, and sooner than she knew it, Alexia had waved away a security guard that had told her Eli wasn’t aloud on the field, and then they were jogging towards the bench hand in hand. "Wait here, mama." Alexia said in spanish, leaving her with Lucy who had decided to show Elisabet exactly how you had hammered your knee into place. Your national team teammate was proud of you, needless to say.

Camp Nou erupted in cheers as you got lifted up on a stretcher. Your shirt was over your face and you were crying lightly. The pain was horrific. When Alexia reached you, she held your hand in hers. "I can’t go with you baby. Jonatan won’t let me. But my mothers there, and she will go with you." Alexia told you, gently pulling your shirt down to cover your stomach again. "Okay." You said quietly, not being able to think of anything but the pain. "You’re so fierce mi amor, so fierce." She said to you.

Soon enough, Alexia’s hand was replaced with her mothers hand. The medical team carried you into the tunnel, and then outside where an ambulance was waiting. The paramedics loaded you into the back and helped Elisabet settle in.

The drive there was relatively silent other than the sirens. Elisabet didn’t say much, her english being broken, but she smiled at you in a way that you weren’t familiar with. In a motherly way.

When you got to the hospital, everything was a blur. You were hooked up on pain meds and brought to surgery right away. The surgeons were talking to you as you dozed off, telling you how you were the bravest, but craziest person ever for doing what you did. You dozed off giggling, with a smile on your face. You knew that no matter what, you’d have Alexia.

———

"Y/n?" A voice said gently.

Your eyes fluttered open to see Alexia sitting beside you, along with Mapi, Lucy, and Keira. They were all smiling at you but looked worried. "Is it bad?" You groaned, sitting up. "No! Well it’s not good. But it’s not bad bad. You’ll be back stronger than ever." Alexia said to you, the rest of the group nodding in agreement.

"People are going crazy for you, y/n." Keira said. She pulled out her phone and went on Tik Tok to the barclays women’s page. There, was a video of you hammering your knee into place with the audio "did somebody say, slay."

"Who chose the audio?" You giggled tiredly. "The admin I guess." Mapi laughed. "Yeah the part where I scream in pain and fall backwards is especially sexy." You joked. Alexia laughed, brushing your hair with her fingers. "We’ll give you guys a minute." Lucy said, ushering her own girlfriend out of the room. Mapi stood up and your forehead, always having been a sister to you.

"I was so fucking worried that whole game." Alexia told you as the girls walked out. "I know baby. I’m sorry- wait. The game. What was the score?" You asked, knowing loosing would have been really bad. "It’s okay. It was 3-1. Close call." Alexia reassured you.

You nodded and moved over to the side, leaving room for Alexis in the bed. She slipped off her shoes and snuggled up with you. Kissing your temple repeatedly. "Shh my love, i’m okay." You giggled as she kissed down your neck. "You’ll be okay when i’m done kissing you."

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso community #alexia putellas #mapi leon #keira walsh #lucy bronze #barca femeni

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nonclassyparty · 3 months

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tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)

(prologue; when we were kids)

and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school

6 and 8 years old;

Your mom helped you build the snowman.

An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.

The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.

(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)

After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.

Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.

Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.

"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.

All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.

"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"

But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.

"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.

You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.

They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!

She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."

"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face.

"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.

"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.

"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"

You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"

She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."

So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.

"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!"

Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.

When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it.

The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!

He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.

Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.

But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!

It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else!

The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.

You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.

Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.

10 and 12 years old;

"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!"

Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.

He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.

Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.

"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.

And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.

"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"

"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.

Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.

"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.

"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.

Stupid Beomseok.

Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose.

There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?

Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.

He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.

Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.

Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.

Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek.

Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.

Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.

The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.

Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl.

Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.

Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.

"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.

"Wha-?"

And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.

"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.

Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.

"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.

(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)

14 and 16 years old;

Wooyoung has a girlfriend.

You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.

Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.

That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking.

You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.

He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too.

His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.

So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.

He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.

And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.

You even saw them kiss. Just once.

When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.

Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.

Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder.

She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.

"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.

Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.

You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included) but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.

You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.

Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.

Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.

You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.

High school was scary.

"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.

"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"

You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."

A crush. As if!

She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.

"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.

He snorts, "Yeah."

You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.

The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.

He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.

And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.

Since you're such a crybaby.

He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.

Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.

"I think she has a crush on you."

He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.

"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."

Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."

A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.

He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.

Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"

"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."

Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"

She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.

As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.

18 and 20 years old;

From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.

Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.

Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo.

To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.

You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.

So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.

Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.

With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.

Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either.

Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.

But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence.

All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.

With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.

Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace.

He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.

It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.

It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.

"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"

You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"

"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."

"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."

He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"

After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.

A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;

"Do I really look funny?"

"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."

"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.

Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.

Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.

Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.

"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"

"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.

"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."

Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.

You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.

An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.

"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.

"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"

"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"

The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"

"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."

He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.

"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."

"Girls....like that?"

"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."

"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.

"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.

But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.

Eunwoo was one of those guys.

"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."

"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.

"Yeah, I'll walk home."

"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"

"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."

"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"

You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."

So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.

If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.

You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).

Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.

Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.

But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.

"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.

That ends up being your last straw.

You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.

Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.

He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.

You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.

Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.

He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.

Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something.

It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.

"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand.

He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.

"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.

You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.

"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."

"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.

"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"

"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"

Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.

The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"

You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.

But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."

Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."

His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.

"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"

Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.

"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.

"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.

"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."

Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."

Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.

Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.

"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.

Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."

He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."

Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"

You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."

Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.

But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-

"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."

Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.

There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.

"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.

It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,

"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.

"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"

"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."

Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.

Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-"

"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.

When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."

You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.

"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.

Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.

He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.

When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.

But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.

Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand.

Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk.

"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.

Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."

His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.

Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."

He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.

Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.

"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."

Likely thing to happen.

The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.

Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.

Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.

He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."

Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.

You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."

Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."

He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."

Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.

Why can't you just be nice to her?

The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.

He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.

You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.

"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."

He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.

Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.

Your brows raise.

"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."

You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.

"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."

And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.

19 and 21 years old;

"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!"

Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.

The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.

"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.

Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression).

So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.

And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.

"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."

You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.

In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.

But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.

In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.

You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team.

"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.

The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.

‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just ready to fight.

You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall.

"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red.

With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.

Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-

"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"

At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,

"Number nine! Crybaby!"

There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.

A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.

The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.

You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-

"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"

Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years.

Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.

When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.

You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;

"Jung Wooyoung!"

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung scenarios

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