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#tried to make it extra angsty for u
its-hyperfixation · 1 year
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just have patience. it’s not how you spend the time, it’s if you waste it.
happy early birthday my beloved @bellamyblakru , i love u so much. thank u for being my friend <3
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promptsbytaurie · 6 months
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anything with wing clipping. i once tried to do research on it for a fic and,, it is SO angsty
i got u fam <333 (i have way too much brainrot on this bear with me LMAO)
tips for writing ✨wingfics✨
!!please credit/tag me if you use this!! i'd love to see what you write!!
physical differences:
area where wings connect to their back is insanely sensitive!!
feathers falling e v e r y w h e r e
wings are big!! if the wearer hasn't had them for long, or is younger/inexperienced, they're gonna knock shit over
~birb noises~
they're actually really good singers with insane lung capacity, a lot of them are/could be opera singers
thin bones, so they're super light and even though most think it's embarrassing to be picked up so easily there's always One Dude who's like 'carry me everywhere'
smaller birds = smaller people. most wings correspond to a specific species, and hummingbird varieties are notoriously short (though never say that to their face, they will probably murder you <3)
unless the avian is a kind of waterbird (penguins, sometimes eagles) going into water will clog their wings and they could drown!! adding onto this i imagine that avians have special bathtubs and brushes and stuff so that they can properly clean their wings
on the flip side if an avian does NOT clean their wings they can get tangled or matted which a) is super painful b) could impact their flying and c) could cause sickness !!
dislocated wings >:(( this happens about as often as dislocated shoulders do with regular people. this can be caused by a couple things like blunt force, trying to manuever/twist wings in ways they aren't supposed to go, or flying too often/straining wings.
psychological differences:
preening!! it's intimate, but doesn't have to be romantic/sexual. obv there is room for very fluffy and romantic moments but it can be either way
flock!!! it's kinda like a family or a pack
the urge to Make a Nest and Only Let the Flock In
once the Flock is In the Nest then the Flock Will Not Leave Ever
molting!! old feathers fall out to allow new ones to grow in !
molting is basically the bird version of a period except all birds have it once or twice a year. they're more emotional, super sensitive, and extra clingy during molting!!
if an avian gives you one of their feathers it's basically a version of marriage, except it doesnt have to be romantic. its essentially a promise, like a 'we're with each other forever' kinda thing.
just as humans have discrimination, i imagine that avians have it too. more common species like songbirds, ravens, or crows are probably valued in society way less than those like eagles, doves, or parrots, and there could also be stereotypes against species like vultures or condors.
on wing clipping:
in my mind wing clipping is a lot like trimming your fingernails realllly sloppily, except the difference is that you should NEVER clip an avian's wings.
what i mean by fingernails is that the nails themselves don't hurt but if you do it sloppily there are Consequences: clipped too short -> irritated skin. clipped inconsistently -> sharp edges, snags on everything INCLUDING other feathers
huge violation of boundaries/self!! clipped wings -> can't fly. flying is integral to avian health and if they can't fly their mood and mental health will fall drastically.
clipped feathers take a long time to grow back, and therefore clipping has long-term effects. it also damages the feathers themselves (obviously) in ways that sometimes can't be healed
if an avian's wings are clipped their trust goes DOWN and their insecurity goes UP. its likely that if someone else tries to touch their wings they will freak out
clipped wings also make avians more jumpy and paranoid because they've lost their major way to escape/protect themselves: flying away.
angst potentials in wingfics (spoiler: there's a lot):
like i said, clipped wings -> can't fly. write about an avian's first time flying again. (not super angsty but still)
SUPER angsty: write about the actual act of wing clipping.
an avian is neglecting their wing care and tries to hide it.
relationship between a 'noble' avian (eagle, dove, etc) and a 'basic' avian (crow, raven, etc) and society's dislike of the relationship.
or maybe avians are a minority in a human world, and an avian has to hide their wings to be safe.
hope this helped!! <33
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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months
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You're My Home
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Summary: You and Javi have both had one of those weeks where no matter how hard you try, nothing seems to go right. It only takes so long before something stupid makes the both of you snap. When Javi confesses to you what's been putting him on edge, you find a way to make it up to each other.
Word Count: 4.9K
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), established relationship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap), vaginal fingering, creampie, angst, PTSD (poor Javi has a panic attack but you help him through it), hurt/comfort, makeup sex (!!!!), bad communication but apologizing/forgiving each other, mentions of food/eating, reader wears Javi's shirt and is carried by Javi, fluff fluff fluff bc you two are so in love with each other it hurts
This can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!
A/N: I don't know what's been in the water that has me so compelled to make something angsty, but here we are!! Once I started writing this I quite literally could not stop, and it turned out to be one of the most intimate things I have ever written 😭🥺 I love these two sm
It had been a week. 
A long fucking week. 
One of those weeks where it felt like no matter how hard you tried, everything just felt… off. You had just started volunteering to run the Alma Pierce Elementary School drama club, which had you staying an extra hour and a half after school every Monday and Wednesday, on top of preparing for Parent-Teacher Conferences next week. You loved your group of students this year, but holy shit, were they chatty, and the past few days you felt like you might as well have put a cardboard cutout of yourself at the front of the room and left, because your class had absolutely zero interest in paying attention to you. To top it off, you could tell that Javi was having a bad week too. You hadn’t seen much of each other the past few days, with you working late and prepping for conferences, and Javi working on a new project the department had dropped in his lap without notice. Even though you lived in the same apartment, you had felt like strangers this week. Sure, you’d had off days before, but the two of you were always open and honest with each other, seeking comfort and safety in the other's presence, knowing that you were both there for one another, through good times, and bad. 
But this week was not like those “off” days. Something about it had felt tense, cold, even. You hated it. You hated every second of it. The two of you were never like this. Javi was your best friend, yet somehow, sitting in the same room, you still felt a million miles apart. Every interaction that you’d had left a worse taste in your mouth than the last- snapping at each other over stupid things like unclosed containers in the fridge or leaving towels on the bathroom floor. The worst was that Javi just could not seem to let things go, his presence feeling overbearing, almost bossy, with everything that you did. 
“You left the iron on while you were getting ready, you’re gonna burn down the fucking aparment.” 
“Double check the locks on the door, you forgot this morning.” 
“If you don’t fix the bath mat before you get in the shower, you’re gonna break your goddamn head open.” 
Even worse than that, when you tried to politely remind Javi about something, or do something helpful for him, he had been a complete asshole to you. 
“Yes, I can remember to clean it up after I’m done, I’m not fucking 8 years old.” 
“Jesus, I know we need more coffee creamer, you put it on the grocery list and reminded me twice.” 
“I can put away my own laundry, just let me do it.” 
It felt like he was breathing down your neck, the fly in your ear that just wouldn’t go away, and it made you want to scream. You had considered yourself to be a pretty patient person- working with kids, you had to be, but this week, Javier Peña seemed to be testing every ounce of patience you had left in your body, and you were about to run out.  
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Your Friday night routine with Javi normally consisted of the 3 same things every week
Javi picking up pizza from place down the street on the way home from work
Eating the pizza and watching a movie 
Pausing said movie to have sex, finish watching the movie, and then fall asleep on the couch. 
On this particular Friday, you had a very strong suspicion that none of those 3 things would be happening tonight. When you came home, you practically collapsed from exhaustion the moment you got through the door. Dropping your bag and kicking off your shoes, you crawled your way to the couch, completely collapsing in its cushions, taking a few deep breaths to try and regain your composure from the hellish day it had been. You finally mustered up enough strength to get up and change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable before sulking around the apartment, making yourself finish chores that had seemed to go neglected all week. Javi was normally home a half hour after you, but as you looked up at the clock, he was 20 minutes later than usual. It wasn’t long before another hour had gone by, leaving you absolutely starving, unable to wait for the dinner Javi may or may not be bringing home. You scavenged through your fridge and pantry, pulling out sauce and spaghetti to make yourself pasta to at least tide you over. 
When Javi got home two hours past his normal arrival, you were shocked by the smell of pizza that filled your apartment as he walked through the door. You were even more shocked by the reaction he had to seeing the pot of noodles you had left out on the stove while you sat at the kitchen table to finish report cards to hand out at conferences. 
“Did you already fucking eat?” His tone was sharp and brash as he dropped the pizza box on the kitchen counter. 
“Well you’re home two hours later than normal, Javi. What was I supposed to do? Not eat? I’m more than capable of fending for myself if you’re not here with pizza.” You could feel pressure in your stomach rising, clenching your fists to try and hold in the last bit of patience you had. 
“That’s not the fucking point. You know I always get pizza for us on Friday, you know I’m bringing you dinner, I can’t help that things have been a shit show at work and I’m still trying to at least do something to take care of you.” 
Take care of you? Nuh, uh. That was the last straw. 
You stood up out of your chair, palms flat on the table as you glared at Javi. “Take care of me? Seriously, Javi? Like I’m some sort of helpless little puppy that can’t fend for themself? I am more than fucking capeable of taking care of myself, and this whole week you have been acting like I am literally incapable of doing anything in this house. Listen, I can tell things have been shitty for you at work, and this week has sucked for me too, but every time I try to go do something nice for you, something to actually help take care of you? You’re already halfway down my goddamn throat, telling me to stop or fix whatever it is I’m doing.” Your heart was racing, blood pumping through your veins so intensely, you could feel your hands begin to shake. 
“Because it’s my fucking job to take care of you!” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as you stood with your hands on your hips, laughing at him in the least humorous way possible. 
“Your job? Your fucking job? You don’t think I’m capable of taking care of myself? That’s fucking great. So you can take care of me, but I can’t take care of you? Yeah, that makes sense. Un-fucking-believeable. I don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you this past week, but I can’t do this right now. I’m going on a fucking run.” You stormed to the door, throwing on your shoes as you white knuckled your keys in your grasp. 
“You fucking hate running!” Javi yelled, clenching his jaw before burying his hands in his face. 
“I don’t fucking care!” You grunted back, deliberately slamming the door behind you as you sauntered down the stairs of your apartment to the parking lot. Javi was right, there was no physical activity you hated more than running. You weren’t really sure what your plan was, just that you couldn’t stand there fighting with Javi anymore. You could feel the adrenaline flowing through you, enough to make you pick up your feet and actually begin sprinting down the sidewalk. You just kept running. Running until you could feel your sides begin to hurt, until your eyes began to sting from the tears welling behind them, until your chest felt like it was collapsing in on you, making you stop in the middle of the cement pathway in a full on breakdown. You could barely catch your breath, sobbing, as your hands dropped to your knees, your body trembling with each pathetic whimper. 
What the fuck were you doing? Why was Javi being like this? Why were you being like this? Why won’t he just talk to you? Why can you just not make things right? Why was the one person you loved more than anything in the world the one who was making you feel like you’d been run over by a semi-truck? 
Wiping your tears and snot with your sleeve, you took a deep breath and turned around to head home, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was causing you to both suffer through the worst week ever.
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“Javi?” You peeked into the apartment, your voice barely above a whisper. 
“What?” He answered, his voice still sharp, making you wince as you walked over to the couch where he sat. 
“Javi… Javi what’s going on? I can’t do this anymore. If I did something to make you mad, I’m sorry, I just-” 
“Fucking work has just been a shit show, okay?” He snapped, cutting off your sentence. “I’m going to bed, I’m fucking exhausted.” He sighed as he got up, storming his way down the hallway, leaving you there alone on the couch, your bottom lip quivering as the tears began to stream down your face again, leaving you in a silent, sobbing heap on the couch. 
You waited a while before getting into bed with Javi, entering your bedroom in its already dark state to avoid crossing paths while the two of you finished your nighttime routines. You crawled into your comforter, eyes still red and puffy as you lay back to back with Javi, without so much as even a good night, let alone, an “I love you.” 
You could feel yourself stirring, tossing and turning in your sleep as you rolled over, outstretching your arm to an unfamiliarly empty space. You turned over to face Javi, now finding yourself wide awake at the fact that he wasn’t there next to you. Immediately, you shot up, calling out his name as you got out of bed, wondering where the hell he was. As you made your way into the hallway, you whispered his name once more before hearing the sounds of heavy, labored breathing coming from the living room. You rushed in, finding Javi sitting on the floor, his hand grasping at his chest with a look of pure panic on his face. 
“I feel like… Fuck, I feel like I can’t breathe. My heart is beating so fast.” He whimpered between his shaky breathing and sobs. “I just- I just kept seeing it over and over again in my head and I woke up and it still wouldn’t go away. Every when I wake up, it’s like it’s fucking haunting me. I feel like something’s crushing my chest. Baby, what’s happening?” He gasped as he looked up at you, helpless and desperate.  
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You knew exactly what was happening. 
Immediately, you climbed into his lap, wrapping yourself around him as tightly as possible, stretching your arms as widely as you could around the broadness of his body. You tried to slow your breathing down, taking long inhales and exhales as you held him. “Just breathe, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, I promise. I’m here. Deep breaths, okay?” 
“Osita, I can’t- Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” His voice was trembling, each word low and labored as he grasped at the back of his shirt you had draped over your back. 
“I know, baby. I know. I know it’s scary. I promise that you’re safe. I’m here, okay? Just breathe. In and out. I’m not leaving. You’re safe with me, I promise it will be okay.” Even though your heart was shattering, you did everything you could to be the calm in his storm, whispering your reassurances in your soft, sweet voice. Slowly but surely, you could feel the intensity of his breaths lessen, the rising and falling of his chest easing as he grasped tighter at your shirt, pulling you closer to him. 
“It’s okay, Javi. It’s okay. Listen, I’m gonna ask you to do something, alright? It’s gonna sound stupid but it’s gonna help.” You could feel him nod against your chest, his sobs finally beginning to slow. “Can you open your eyes and tell me 5 things you see?” You felt him lift his head, looking up at you, his face wet and red as his deep brown eyes locked with yours.
“Fuck, um, the- the wall, the carpet, the uh, um, the couch, shit, the TV, you. I can see you.” 
“Okay, perfect. What about 4 things you can touch, like feel in your hands?” You smiled gently at him as his breathing was now at a near normal rate. He raised up his arm, wiping his damp face with his palm. 
“My fucking wet face.” The both of you smirked, bringing you relief that Javi was already half laughing. “The carpet, my shirt, that always looks better on you than it does on me. Fuck, I can feel your skin, it’s always so soft. I love feeling it.” He ran one of his hands along the bare skin of your thigh, his fingers grasping at your flesh. 
“You’re doing great, baby. How about 3 things you can hear?” 
“Um, the cars outside, the fan, I could feel your heartbeat when I was on your chest.” He pressed his head back against you, raking your fingers through the ends of his damp curls, sticking to his forehead from his panicked sweat. 
Okay, almost done. What about 2 things you can smell?” You asked, running your fingers along the nape of his neck. 
“Your shirt smells like laundry. No matter how hard I try it just always smells better when you do it. And your shampoo. It always smells so sweet and fruity, it’s my favorite.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hand gently tugging at the ends of your hair, twisting his fingers through it. 
“Okay, last one. Something you can taste.” He lifted his head, looking at you as he slid the hand in your hair to cradle your jaw, cupping your face. 
“You.” He rasped, his lips barely pressing against yours, feeling the hot breaths between your mouths as they met. He pulled back, pausing for a moment before he spoke. “Baby…I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. This week has been all my fault. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this and I was scared. I was so fucking scared.” 
“Javi, it’s okay. Please, I just want to be here for you. You know you can tell me anything, okay? I love you, Javi. I love you more than anything. I know it hurts to talk about the things that scare you the most, but it’s even scarier watching the person you love hurt so badly and not knowing what to do to help them. I don’t care what it is, baby. There’s nothing you can tell me that’s gonna scare me away.” The look on his face nearly broke you. You could tell he was so hurt. Hurt by whatever had been haunting him. Hurt by the fact he wasn’t okay. Hurt by the fact that he had hurt you. 
“The project I’ve been working on this week… It all started because of how bad things are getting across the border in Mexico. A mom was out with her kids and they were all shot in a hit and run accident between two people making a drug trade. It was only an hour from here. I watched so many people do so many fucked up things that I thought I would never have to worry about again once I got home. And even if I did, I was going to be the only person I needed to worry about. But I couldn’t stop imagining that mom with her kids was you. You and our future kids. Every night since that fucking case file got set on my desk, I wake up to the same fucking nightmare of me running down the street, trying to grab you, push you, do anything to get you out of the way, but every fucking night I’m never fast enough. All I can do is watch as that bullet goes through you and you fall to the ground. I can’t let it happen to you. What if something goes wrong and I can’t protect you? I couldn’t fucking live with myself. I just want to keep you safe Osita. I’m so sorry. I love you too much to lose you.” 
Fuck. 
It wasn’t long before you were crying with him, squeezing him tightly once again, pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. That’s what had been going on. That’s why he had been so overbearing. That’s why he hadn’t been the Javi that you’d known and loved this week. On the night he’d told you the worst of the things he had seen and done away in Colombia, you had seen how his eyes had filled with regret, remorse, even anger. But this was different. Never once in the time that you’d known him had you seen Javi so scared. The look in his eyes when you found him sitting on the floor was one of pure terror. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like, waking up night after night to the image of Javi slipping away, let alone coming to grips with the reality that you couldn’t even fathom, and he knew far too well. Javi knew you had no problem sticking up for yourself. You were strong, tough, and fiercely independent- those were all things he loved so much about you. But those things weren’t enough to protect you from the dangers that haunted his past, or the terrifying reality of the present. 
Through the silent cries of your sobs, you felt Javi’s hand under your chin, lifting your head to force your eyes to meet. “Osita, I’m so sorry. Pease, please forgive me. I’ve been so lost in my own world this week because I’ve been so scared about what could happen to you. I had my head so far up my own ass that I thought I was doing everything I could to try and keep you safe in any way that I could, and instead I’ve just been a fucking dick to the person I care about more than anything in the world. I don’t wanna fight anymore, I fucking hate it. I’m so fucking sorry.” 
You draped your arms around his neck, your fingers tracing small, gentle circles along his back as you stared back at him. “I didn’t know, Javi. I didn’t know you were so scared. I’m so sorry. I don’t wanna fight anymore either. This has been the shittiest week. I missed you. I missed my best friend.” He pressed his hand against the back of your head, cradling it in his palm as he hugged you tightly. “You just have to promise me something, okay?” 
“Anything. Anything, baby.” 
“You have to promise me that you can’t keep all of this in. You have to promise me you’ll talk to someone about it. Me, your dad, people at work, Steve, a therapist, someone. There are so many people who care so much about you who just wanna help. You’re the strongest person I know, Javi, but it’s okay to not be strong sometimes.” He let out a long, shaky breath, darting his eyes down at the ground, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. “You promise me?” You asked again, grabbing his face in your hands, swiping your thumb along his wet cheeks. 
“I promise.” 
In that moment, it was like the two of you could feel something in the air change. The tension lifting, the frustrated fog fading, the both of you desperately needing the other to know how sorry you were for the way you had acted. You found yourself face to face, eyes closing as your mouths came together in the most gentle, tender kiss. But even as your parted lips barely pressed against one another, you could practically feel how desperate you both were. 
“I love you.” 
Even though you whispered it against the soft, unshaven stubble of Javi’s cheek, it feels like you’re screaming it, determined to make sure he hears those 3 words as they fall from your lips, that he knows how much you mean each one, every second of every hour of every day. You can feel the heat in your chest as his hands grasp around the small of your back, pulling you closer as your bodies melt together, the tension straining in your muscles dissipating with each second he pulls you closer. 
“I love you too.” 
It felt like suddenly, all was right with the world again. The Javi you knew and loved had come back, returning home to you. All of the fear and sadness was replaced by a rampant desperation to know how much you needed him, almost as much as he needed to show you how desperately he craved you, too. The tingle built at the base of your spine as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, his hand creeping further up your belly, pressing against the curves of your sides. You raised your arms as his fists balled up the worn fabric, carefully lifting it over your head as his hot breath ran against your neck, leaving gentle, tender kisses along your newly exposed skin. Your hands pressed against his hips, tugging at the waistband of his cotton sleep shorts as he locked his arms under your legs, bringing you both to stand as you wrapped your legs around the small of his back, the skin of your bare chests brushing against each other as he carried you toward the bedroom. Each kiss of your parted lips was like a plea, begging that the other would forgive you, that despite the way you had treated each other there was no one in the world that you loved more, that you would rather be with right here, right now. 
Crossing the threshold to the bedroom, Javi leaned his body over the mattress, carefully placing you down in the warm, tangled sheets of your bed that had felt so cold and harsh only a few hours ago. You looked up at Javi standing at the end of the bed as he nudged his shorts off of his hips, leaving him exposed, the clothes now pooling around his ankles. Crawling over you, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, the only thing left on your body after your shirt had been left behind in the living room. You lifted your hips, helping him shuffle the fabric down your legs as he ran his hands along the meat of your thighs. He leaned over you, the temples of your foreheads pressed against each other as his fingers danced along the skin of your bare legs, barely grazing against your entrance. You could already feel the slick of your arousal pooling under his touch, the calloused pads of his fingers ever so gently tracing up and down your folds, making you shutter. 
“Javi... Please.” Your voice trembled as Javi nodded, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You gasped as you felt the thickness of his fingers heedfully pushing themselves inside you, arching your back against the bed as his thumb delicately pressed on your clit. Each thrust of his hand in and out of your heat was dragging and deliberate, the rubbing of his fingertip along your sensitive bundle of nerves making your moans muffled against his chest. Every touch of his hand made you feel better than the last, but there was something primal about the way that you needed him inside you, how you ached to feel him buried deep in heat, to feel every inch of him. “I need you. Please, I need you.” You whimpered against his skin, making him lift his head to look at you as you watched the chocolate brown of his eyes grow darker with lust. He worked in silence, removing his fingers as he stroked himself, making your cunt throb in anticipation as you felt the tip of his cock stroke along your entrance, a moan escaping from your parted lips as he guided himself inside you. 
“Fuck…” He whispered, pushing himself in further, inch by inch, before bottoming out, his tip bumping against your cervix. You wrapped your legs around his back, doing anything you could to bring him closer to you, trying to melt your bodies into one and hold him so tightly you could never let him float away again. You dug your nails into his muscular back as he began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke, as if he was savoring every sweet moment. “I love you, Osita. I love you so much, baby. Gonna make you feel good, okay? I promise.” It was like you could feel his words with each stroke, the promise that had fallen from his lips burying itself deep inside you with every rock of his hips against yours. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of your mixed moans and skin hitting against each other. Even when no words escaped from your mouths, it was almost as if you could hear each other through the sounds between the two of you, coating your walls. 
I love you. 
I need you. 
I’m so sorry. 
His palm pressed along the sheen of your skin, snaking down your body to rub against your clit, intensifying the throbbing that you already felt growing between your legs. With each thrust of his hips, his cock pounded deeper into your heat, hitting the spot within you that had the arousal beginning to pool intensely within your belly, that creeping familiar feeling building at the base of your spine. You dug your nails deeper into Javi’s skin, grasping for the damp curls at the nape of his neck, your whimpers growing louder and more desperate with each stroke as you could feel yourself beginning to crumble beneath him. 
“Javi, pleaseee. Bab-ahhhhh, I’m so close.” You felt your cunt begin to clench around his length, making him moan as each push and pull of hips became more intense, punching against your g-spot and making your writhe under his touch.
“I know you are, Hermosa. Cum for me baby, cum all over me and show me how you’re mine.” 
His words make something inside you snap, making you shake and your body tense as your arms and legs tightened their grip around Javi, crying out his name as your orgasm rushed through you. His lips met yours, swallowing your moans as his pumps became frantic and sloppy, only taking a few more before he was chasing his own high. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect. Te amo más que a nada. Soy tyuo para siempre. (I love you more than anything, I’m yours, forever.). Fuck, I’m gonna- shit- I’m- ahhhhhhh” With one last push, you could feel him throbbing inside you, spilling against your walls, pumping every last drop of himself inside you as he slumped into your body, your hearts racing, chests rising and falling as one. The two of you laid there for a moment, your bodies tangled in each other, letting each of your breaths sync as you came down from your blissed out highs. Javi hissed as he turned over to pull out of you, making you whine at the loss, before rolling over to lay your head on his chest. You could feel his arm wrap around you to pull you in closer, his fingers tracing along your shoulder blade as you draped your arm across his stomach. 
“I guess that’s one way to make up for this shitty week.” You giggled as Javi shook his head, joining you, the both of you glad to hear the sweet sounds of each other's laughter for the first time in much too long. “Can we never do this again? I never wanna fight like that ever again. These last few days have sucked without you.” 
“Never. This was the fucking worst. Never again. I promise.” He kissed the top of your head, burying his nose in your messy curls as he held you just a little bit tighter. 
“Okay.” You smiled against his warm, tanned skin before looking up at him. “You wanna know the worst part?” 
“What, baby?” 
“I didn’t even get to eat any of that pizza.” Javi chuckled as he shook you playfully in his grasp, making you squirm and snicker as he held you. 
“There’s still some left in the fridge. Let me go get it and you can tell me all about your week, okay?” He kissed your forehead as he pushed himself out of bed, making his way to the door. 
“Okay. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, I didn’t even get to tell you how I had to call Mark’s mom in the middle of math because he stuck a crayon up his nose yesterday.” The both of you snorted as Javi looked back at you. 
“I can’t wait to hear all about it.” 
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Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed
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kisskiss-slashslash · 9 months
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Can I request jason voorhees, bubba sawyer, Thomas hewitt, and Vincent sinclair and how they would react to finding a message on the inside of their mask that says "rember, I♡U ~ Y/N" from their S/O other, and maybe another angst version where the find it after the reader died but for now just fluff please?
Yes you can <3 and I did both for all of them. First fluffy, then angsty
So yeah content warnings: Death
Masked Slashers when they discover that their s/o wrote a message on the back of their mask
Jason Voorhees
If he discovers it during your lifetime, he becomes downright giddy. He knows what it means, despite being unable to read. He has seen the same thing carved into way too many trees around camp. But this isn’t harming a tree or defacing the camp, it’s just you reminding him that while he is out there killing people, you are at home, waiting to lovingly welcome him back. And to return the favor, he may carve or write the same thing on something of yours, so you will also always know he loves you. Should he not discover the message before then, however…
-
His days have become so dark since you left. And since then, he also stopped taking off his mask so much. While you were alive, he had made it a habit to not wear it around you. After all, you loved all of him; there was no way to hide. So now, if he needed to eat or drink, he usually just lifted it a bit and put it back in place immediately after. So it took him a few weeks to discover your message.
Jason never learned to read, but he sees the little heart scribbled next to the message and that says just as much. His heart breaks all over again. For a good while, he just stands there with the mask in hand, bitter tears dripping onto the rough plastic.
Bubba Sawyer
You make this particular mask for Bubba, after watching how he maskes the masks himself many times. It really is a bit gross, but you’d do anything for him, so there you are, carefully stitching the flaps of skin together and finally using a permanent marker to write the message inside. Once he discovers it, he is over the moon. He will immediately drop anything he is doing and come to you to wrap you in a bear hug. Depending on the time of day, Drayton may chase him back to work with some choice words, or just roll his eyes and tell you to get a room.
-
Bubba has many masks, for every one of his moods. But he rarely swaps them out anymore, now that you aren’t around. While your body has been treated like the rest of the Sawyer-family’s deceased loved ones, sitting upstairs as well-preserved as possible and treated as if still alive, it is just not the same. You aren’t laughing and smiling anymore.
This mask that he wears now has been your work; you had insisted on making one for him a while ago.
When family bath day finally rolls around, he finds himself forced to take it off, and that’s then he finally notices it. A message for him, written inside of the mask, right on his cheek like a loving kiss. The other Sawyers can only watch in bewilderment as Bubba breaks down, sobbing and clutching the mask to his chest.
Thomas Hewitt
Making his human masks is grizzly business, and one he normally wouldn’t want to involve you in. But he remembers you sneaking downstairs not too long ago, citing simple curiosity as the reason.
He will most likely find the message fairly quickly, while washing up after a hard day of work. Once he sees it, he will smile to himself. While his reaction is fairly subdued, he will definitely be extra loving with you for the rest of the day, causing Hoyt to tease him about it.
-
Now that you’re gone, Thomas just tries to move on with his life, as painful as it is. He still has the rest of his family to provide for, after all.
During his work, he briefly takes off his mask to wipe off the sweat that gathered underneath, only to find the message inside. His heart cramps up at the sight, and he bites down on his lower lip to stop the tears flooding his eyes from making their way down his face.
Carefully, almost reverently, he puts the mask back on a dummy head, now deeming it way too precious to wear. Instead, he grabs another one, but before he can put it on, he freezes, realizing that his one also has the same message from you. Holding back the tears becomes even harder. Another mask. Same thing.
He finds that every single one of his masks has the same message scribbled on the inside. Overwhelmed by it, he sits down at his desk and buries his face in his hands, hoping it will conceal the hot streams of sorrow pouring from his eyes.
Vincent Sinclair
Leaving this kind of message in a wax mask is a bit difficult, but possible. You got yourself some gold foil from a craft store during your last trip to town, and while Vincent sleeps peacefully next to you, you quietly get up and carefully work the message into the wax with the foil. When Vincent wakes up and discovers it, he will look over to you and smile. That day, he works with even more vigor than usual, and come evening, presents you with a small wax figure he made especially for you.
-
Vincent considered himself almost immune to grief for a long time; even his mother’s death had made him determined to continue her legacy more than anything. But then you suddenly pass away, and he feels like the ground underneath his feet is crumbling.
Then he discovers the message, and he just… shuts down. It takes days for his brothers to coax him out of bed, and even then, he only gets up to stop his brothers from pestering him. Should any victims come to town during that time, he will go after them with the ferocity of a wild animal. In his head he is screaming “Why should you get to live?! With what right are you still breathing while they are gone?!”
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ronwestbreeze · 1 year
Note
i love ur writing sm! don’t know if ur taking requests but if u are, i’d love to request something 💌 so let’s say neytiri was already bonded/mated w someone else, jake still had feelings for her, even though she doesn’t have any feelings for him besides respect and a platonic love. anyway jake being the ole’eyktan the na’vi are pushing him to get married/bonded to further the Omaticaya clan. anyways reader is like a warrior! like neytiri level but she’s always been indifferent toward jake, so she’s against the wedding but she’s the best candidate for it, came from a respected Omaticaya family, and just like their relationship and how they fall in love, you’d get extra brownie point in how much i love ur writing if u make jake fall in love first and have them confess their love for each other in a angsty way LMAO love u bff, love ur writing, excited for anything you write ! 🫶🏼
thick skull
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pairing: jake sully x reader
warnings: none!
summary: in which you are forced into an engagement with omaticaya's clan leader.
word count: 3.0k
author's note: this took me a while, ahah, but here it is! i hope you like it. i tried my best to make it a little bit angsty. also to other followers, i took this request before i officially put up my navigation. so from here on i won't be taking any requests for now!
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When you were first told of the arranged engagement, you were furious and went off hunting for hours until your father had called you back. It wasn’t like you didn’t want a mate, no, but having one thrusted upon you out of  nowhere just because the ole’eyktan needed to be bonded with someone quickly pissed you off. But unfortunately, you couldn’t disrespect your family by acting out, even if you wanted to shoot something, you had your duties, responsibilities. If you’d fail to do this, you’d bring shame upon the family.
And it really jabbed the knife even further when you first met Jake Sully, leader of Omaticaya, and saw that he had eyes for someone else who was already mated.
“He is pathetic!” You seethed to your father back at your tent. “Not only do you expect me to marry an outsider but skxawng who is after a mated female!”
“You will do this, y/n!” Your father shouted despite your mother’s attempts at calming the both of you. “I will not have a failure in this family all because you are too stubborn to listen!”
“Aaah!” You hissed, snatching up your bow. “He would be dead before we are even wed if you keep pushing this on me!”
“y/n, please.” Your mother spoke before your father could argue any further. “Leave us, my love. I will handle this.”
After sending you a stern scowl which you steadily didn’t back down from, he marched out of the tent, leaving you and your mother alone.
“I know how you feel, my daughter.” Your mother cooed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I too was in the same position as you.”
You huff, “then I pity you.”
Your mother smiled, “you do not have to like him, just do it for the good of the clan. The elders have chosen you and for that you should be honored. Blessed to be looked upon by Eywa that she has handed you a mate.”
“He is not my mate.” Every bit of you wanted to fight this. Storm the elders’ tent and make them choose another naïve woman to fulfill this deed. You were not naïve.
But you also weren’t dumb.
After another long look from your mother, you breathed out a strained sigh, “He loves another. He will reject me. What am I to do with that?”
There was a subtle look that passed over your mother, one that you couldn’t make much of as she spoke. “You will not be rejected. Trust the All Mother, my beautiful child. Trust her.”
Giving into your parents’ wishes was like giving up a piece of yourself in the process. And since this wasn’t the usual process of finding a mate, your wedding would be soon. And you hardly even met the man you were to call your husband.
He was always either busying himself with the tribe duties or purposefully avoiding you. Your mother dismissed the idea and said he would not disrespect the union like that, especially as the clan leader. You on the other hand withheld judgment, albeit not perfectly, you waited.
You would not go to him. He would come to you.
The day that had happened was during one of your hunts in the forest. You were launching most of your arrows into a small pond of fish. But just as you pulled back another arrow, there was a sudden sound behind you.
Fortunately you were fast.
You spun around and let the arrow go. It was a warning shot mostly and you completely expected it to miss the target just barely.
But what you didn’t expect was to see Jake Sully standing there, surprised by the arrow now in the tree next to his head.
You pulled back another arrow.
Jake held his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I come in peace!”
“You should know better to sneak up on a na’vi woman.” Your grip tightened on the arrow. “A very angry one at that.”
He took a step back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me.” You hissed, reluctantly lowering your bow. “And find a different pond to hunt, this one’s taken.”
As you turned your back to him, Jake spoke, “Actually, I was looking for you.”
Now you were on guard. “Why?”
You watched him carefully as he slowly approached only to stop and kneel next to the pond, “Figured it would be better to meet my future mate now rather than wait until the wedding.”
He grabbed one of the arrowed fishes and took the arrow out of it. Still you watched him as you knelt down, further away from him. “You’ve met me. Once.”
Jake looked at you now, brows furrowed. “That doesn’t count.”
Now you frown, not in irritation but in confusion—and okay maybe a little bit of irritation—“What do you mean it does not count? That is when we met. When the union was first announced.”
“Yeah, but…” He sighed, placing the fish down next to him as he grabbed another arrowed one from the pond. “We didn’t have much of a conversation then…”
“I did not want to talk to you.” You say bluntly, snatching the arrowed fish from his hands. “And I don’t wish to now.”
Jake watched you, “You’re mad at me.”
“I am nothing to you.” You state simply.
He stood as you got into the pond to grab the rest of the dead fishes you shot. Just as you went for the last one, Jake snatched it up before you. You hiss. “Give that back!”
“What did I do?” He instead asked, keeping the fish away from you as you tried reaching for it. “Tell me what I did and I will give it back. Allow me to fix it.” You stare at him, warily and confused. “Please.”
“Why do you care?!” You snapped. “You don’t even want this union either, so why should I believe that you care?!”
Again, you try reaching for the fish. This time you get close only for him to grab the arm that nearly grabbed the fish, holding you in place.
“Because, believe it or not, I do care.” Jake frowned down at you, pinning you with his intense gaze. “I get it, neither of us likes this, but we’re going to have to work together at least, right? Be partners through this?” Finally he let your arm go, “We don’t have to like it or each other. But let’s just get it done, alright?”
Finally, he handed the fish back to you. Hesitantly, you took it.
“Deal?”
You watched him in a very calculated silence, holding the fish close to your chest as if he would reach over and take it again.
After a pause, you finally said through gritted teeth, “Fine, Jakesully. I agree to be the utmost loving wife you could possibly have.”
He winced and you turned your back to him.
Was this what awaited you in marriage? A bitter, cold, and distant union? This is what your mother, your father, and your people wanted? Did the All Mother herself want this?
If so, Eywa was wrong.
Jake didn’t mean for your relationship to start out like this. After the wedding the two of you hardly spoke in the beginning. Giving vague replies, barely having any conversations. This wasn’t what he had in mind at all.
You seemed better off, not entirely bothered by the distance between the two of you. Jake knew he had to fix it.
So on days where you least expected him to show up, such as your hunting days, he was there. At first you hated it and would always tell him off. But with great reluctance, as some days and weeks passed, you had grown used to his presence, as annoying as it was.
“Why do you follow me?” You ask one day, clutching your bow close to you. You were watching him with narrowed eyes. “Almost every day, I think you are busy with your duties as clan leader but then I turn and there you are. Why?”
Jake’s ears perked up as he knelt down to finish off your last hunt for the day. It had been twitching and whimpering still. He’d notice you often hesitated to finish the kill whenever you did catch a good hunt. There were days where he wished he could do it for you instead of watching your endless and silent torment before finally killing the animal.
You noticed his actions as well.
“We had a deal, remember?” Jake grinned before standing up. You frowned and his smile grew wider, “What, didn’t think I’d keep my word?”
All you did was give a quiet “hmph” before dragging the animal away back to your shared tent. A part of him hoped for a better reaction but then again he’d be a fool for not knowing any better.
It continued on like this, but it was an improvement! Now he got grunts out of you and longer responses. Sometimes he’d ask you questions about your family and how you learned to hunt. You, of course, were still wary of him for some reason. Like there was always something stopping you from opening up to him. Again, he really couldn’t blame her. They were strangers forced into a marriage, this type of stuff is bound to take some time.
No worries. Jake Sully liked to think of himself as a patient man.
Not.
But the day things began to really change was the day your mother had fallen ill. You were trying to stay strong, you accepted every condolence the tribe people offered you and remained the strong warrior that everyone knew you to be. But every night you were at your mother’s side, in tears, lost, and afraid that one day you would wake up one morning and your mother would be gone.
Your father had tried to force you to seek comfort from your husband but you’d ignore him and keep at your mother’s side whenever you could. But you noticed, even after rejecting your father’s request, Jake was there. All that time. He would be standing outside of your mother’s tent when you left late at night, waiting for you. You acknowledged him once and that was all you could give him at the time. But there was some inkling of you, hidden behind the protective armor, that was thankful for him. For just doing something as simple as being there.
One night, he wasn’t waiting for you. And at first, you felt this strange feeling of disappointment settle on your shoulders, adding to the exhaustion that has been weighing you down ever since your mother’s diagnosis. But you pushed it away and wandered off.
You did not go back to your tent right away. Instead you went to the Spirit Tree. For months you had been angry with Eywa, about the union, about your father, and now even about your mother’s illness. And yet here you were, turning to her one last time to ask for help.
What you didn’t expect was to find Jake there as well.
The bushes had alerted him of your presence. Jake turned and stood when he saw you, almost as if he were caught in the act of something scandalous.
“What are you doing here?” Eventually you ask.
Jake cleared his throat, “I-um-I came here for your mother…”
You had never been so shocked. “What?”
“I know you don’t want me getting involved, I just thought…” Jake sighed before looking up at the Spirit Tree with a long and thoughtful expression. “To be honest, I don’t even know if it’s going to work.”
Still, you were startled and now staring at him as if he were someone else. Another stranger. But this time…
“Why would you do that?” You shakily ask, willing the tears back.
Jake stared at you, brows furrowed until he smiled, “Believe it or not, I actually do care about you and your family, y/n.” He approached you but didn’t get too close. “I thought we knew each other enough by now that you’d notice…”
“I don’t know you, Jakesully.” You say quietly, stray tears falling past your cheek. “I thought I did. But I do not know now.”
He nodded, watching you carefully. “That’s okay.”
Slowly, you made your way toward him, the distance going from long to a hair between you. You did not want to cry. Every harsh word your father had uttered to you about your tears had crossed your mind. Usually, it would immediately make you stop and calm down, pushing it all away. But this time, it only became worse because the only reason you were able to push it away was because your mother had always allowed you to release it just for a moment.
All you wanted was to hide away. And you did. Resting your forehead against Jake’s shoulder, hoping your cries were quiet. It wasn’t until Jake tightly wrapped his arms around you did you finally let yourself cry.
And just like that, your walls were slowly beginning to come down.
It was against your will really. There was something about Jake, there had always been something about Jake, that made you want to try. That made you want to believe that this union could be more than where the two of you were at now.
Your mother had gotten better but it wasn’t without difficulties. Jake was there at your side the entire way and you let him. And you loved it. While your father had completely shut himself away from you, you had Jake now.
And soon, you were starting to begin to understand what your mother had meant.
There was a special celebration that the whole tribe had come together to celebrate. You were at Jake’s side, watching him be a chief for the first time. You were amazed at how well he had adjusted to his new role. Granted, he was still weak in some places, but that was where you always came in. A partnership. That’s what the two of you had for right now.
And maybe the potential for…
Neytiri and her mate were at the celebration. You hadn’t been the only one to spot them.
Only a fool wouldn’t notice just how much Jake was smitten with her. You watched as they locked eyes for a brief moment but your chest hurt so much all of a sudden, you had to turn your eyes away and focus on the rest of the celebration.
You had been the fool.
After the celebration you did not go back to your shared tent. Instead, you went to the trees and remained there until eventually your husband found you.
“Something happened.” He guessed as he appeared next to you in the tree. You tried your best not to throw him off as he sank down next to you. And he had the audacity to look worried for you. “y/n—”
“I do not want to talk to you.” You hiss, jumping down from the tree.
Jake came down seconds later, “You're upset and I’m worried. You didn’t even come back to the tent—”
“I do not want to talk.” You say again as you begin to walk away from him.
Of course, he followed.
“y/n, I know when you’re upset. Tell me what’s happened—”
You whirled around on him, “If you truly did know me as you so claim, then you would know exactly what it is that upsets me!” You jabbed a finger into his chest, “You’d know exactly why I can never allow myself…” No. No. Your voice wavered. No, you had to be stronger than this. You glared at him, angry that he would have this effect on you. “I will not allow myself to be hurt by you, Jakesully! I will not!”
His face fell, almost as if he were hurt by this. “Hurt you? W-Why would I hurt you?” You shook your head and tried backing away but he caught your arm. “y/n, just stop for a moment! Okay, I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Then why didn’t you just choose her?!” You shouted. If the words didn’t shock him, the shove from you certainly did but he was quick enough to catch himself. “The least you could have done was spared me all of this pain! But instead you want to torture me! Instead you want to make me fall for you only to break me in the end! At least allow me to suffer in peace!”
The look on his face was unreadable and all you wanted to do was be left alone at this point. Your father was wrong. Your mother was wrong. Eywa was wrong. Why did the All Mother wish this suffering upon you? Why did she wish you to endure all of this? What had you done to deserve this?
You hadn’t realized you were crying until Jake’s larger hands cupped your face and wiped the tears away. You hadn’t realized his lips were on yours until you responded back immediately, pulling him closer to you. It was pathetic really, how much you craved his taste just by the one time you’ve gotten a lick at it. It was pathetic really, how much you wanted more of it.
Jake pulled away slightly and whispered, “The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you or leave you to suffer…I don’t think I could live with myself if I allowed that to happen.” A small smirk appeared on his  lips. “And I thought I was the only one going crazy with all these feelings.”
Despite yourself, despite the euphoria, you whispered, “What about—”
“Hmm, looks like I’m not the only one with a thick skull around here.” Jake grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I want you, y/n. There’s no one else…what I had for Neytiri has gone. I want to start this life with you and only you.”
It was like your body had a mind of its own at the moment as you wrapped your arms around him, just to have him closer to you. And he held you just as tight.
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” You whispered, so quietly that Jake barely heard you.
There was another kiss against the side of your face.
“I was just waiting for you to notice me.”
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xhdream · 2 months
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Hii can u do what XH likes to do or how they’ll act if they’re jealous? Thank you!
cw: none
a/n: this might be a little bit messy, but expressing my thoughts on more angsty topics like this isn’t my strongest point when it’s not a drabble oof i apologise in advance if this isn’t what you expected, anonie! even a bit over the place i still hope you enjoy the read. ty for stopping by 🫶🏼
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♡ gunil
i think he’d be good at hiding it, so if it happens a few times - most of them you might not notice that he’s being jealous until later. but it really depends on the situation and the person he’s being irritated by. i see him pretty protective as a boyfriend, and if someone is really getting on his nerves he might turn quiet and reserved; just thinking about how he wants to drag you out of the place with a hand on your waist cause he hates how they’re looking at you. after you’re finally left alone his feelings would immediately show, and he wouldn’t try to hide them; he couldn’t even if he tried. he’d sit down to talk to you about it, and after you assure him there’s nothing to worry about he’d calm down, and treat you like a princess till the rest of the night (he always treats you like that but when he’s jealous he really goes all out)
♡ jungsu
it’s a little bit difficult to put my thoughts together when it comes to him. on one side i see him get jealous easily, but then not so much. i see him being more vulnerable when it comes to this in the beginning stages of your to-be-relationship - when you’re in the talking stage, going on dates, but still haven’t talked about anything more than that. when he’s jealous he might overthink things a bit, and contemplate for a while if it’s something that he should bring up or not. that’s why i see him waiting to see if ‘this something’ happens again or grows into something bigger. if not, eventually he would just add it into the conversation lightly without any conflict in mind. when you show him he’s the only one you’re interested in, he most likely would double the physical contact while also putting his arm around you, and grabbing your hand more confidently in public
♡ jiseok/gaon
in a relationship i see him keeping his jealousy moments to himself, and i think those jealousy moments won’t be many tbh. he might even feel good if he catches guys checking you out, cause he knows you’re all his and you would never give those guys even a crumble of your attention. if someone tries to spark a conversation that rubs him the wrong way he’d be extra touchy with you or pull you on his lap, but he won’t feel the urge to bring it up after you’re left alone, cause in his mind that would be unnecessary. if you make him feel secure and loved, then i don’t see him paying too much attention to his temporary sparks of jealousy. he might even make a joke about it to make you laugh, “did you see that guy checking you out? in front of me?!”
♡ seungmin/o.de
i see him a mixture of jiseok and gunil. a part of him would feel good, proud even, that his gorgeous girlfriend is desired by people who can’t have her, but if someone tries to cross a boundary he’d hold you close and change the direction of the conversation. his body language when he’s with you would always be enough of a sign that you’re together, and there’s a chance depending on the situation he might get overprotective, but in a subtle way if that even makes sense? he wouldn’t want to ruin your mood on the spot or make you uncomfortable, so he would wait for you to get home and talk about it. the conversation would be chill and would end in a lot of soft kisses and i love you-s
♡ hyeongjun/junhan
oh he would be so obvious when he’s jealous. it won’t be difficult for you to catch him cause the emotions would be written all over his serious face. if you ask him about it he’d do his best to convince you he’s not jealous at all, cause he wouldn’t want to seem insecure in front of you. he’d laugh it off, but on the inside he’d be thinking about it all day, especially if you’re still not officially together; if you are it would fade down more quickly. he wouldn’t get extra touchy or something like that like the rest of the members, because he’d be too much in his head; he wouldn’t want anyone to notice (even though he suddenly goes quiet in the middle of the conversation?)
♡ jooyeon
i just have to bring up the perilla leaf debate here, and how quick he was with his answer - that his s/o will not help out his guy friend with separating those leaves. even if this clip didn’t exist i’d still be a firm believer that he’s the jealous type of boyfriend. he’d get jealous easily, and you’d always notice the subtle changes in his mood. he’d never do anything to frustrate you during the moment, and he’d try his best to be chatty and all with a hand on your thigh or around your shoulder. he’d play with your hair, with your hand, and he’d lean in your ear to whisper you things all of a sudden. people who know him well can always tell when he’s being jealous, but those who don’t wouldn’t notice a thing. he’d most likely be grumpy and extra affectionate after you get home
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melancholy-of-nadia · 1 month
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love u lately (m) #9 | myg/knj/pjm
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title: love u lately​ chapter title: #9 - pour up pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: welcome to your "fuck it" era. you ran away and haven't returned back to the house since the fight with yoongi and jimin. you're not sure how namjoon hasn't caught on to anything yet... but now taehyung, hoseok, and jungkook just invited you to go out to party at some random frat not at your campus and get you to destress from the drama. oh you're going to destress alright. pour up a drink and well, you might... regret... this decision... warnings:  ANOTHER LONG CHAPTER, flashback pov, angsty, stressful, alcohol consumption, dance battle, FIGHTING, multiple fights?, blood mention, crying, THE TRUTH, AND MORE CONFESSIONS, txt appearance, sakura appearance, soyoon and john eun and san appearance, jin lowkey snitching, ANGRY NAMJOON, soft namjoon, throwing up, kissing, SMUT, creampie, fingering, no other smut warnings it's a surprise but its very tame no worries, reader is on BC, good end?, EXTRA POV at the end, a lot happens i can't remember hehehe maybe i am drunk too note: again pls send love to @daegudrama who is in charge of editing these terrible chapter total word count: 14.3k drop date:  April 12th, 2024, 6:00PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #8 | Series Masterlist | #10
March 1st [Friday]
It’s been 2 weeks.
2 weeks since the fight.
2 weeks since you have last been “home”.
That’s not to say you haven’t taken a shower or changed out of your clothes since then. God, no.
You’ve been staying in Hwasa’s dorm ever since. Her roommate went on an immersion program abroad, so she has no roommate for this semester. Luckily, you’ve had access to her dorm’s shared bathroom to freshen up and her roommates' baron bed.
As for clothes and other stuff, Jungkook has been bringing you everything you need. He’s the only one you can rely on from the house as you’ve always been the most comfortable around him outside of Namjoon, Jimin, and Yoongi. He’s also the one who knew about the deal and didn’t tell anyone, aside from blabbering to Jimin back in October. 
You’re not 100% sure what the aftermath was like in that house after you left. But one thing for sure is that the other guys—not involved in the deal—have covered up things to Joon about your disappearance. They know how rocky things are, and if Namjoon knew all of this, you think it could make things a million times worse. You appreciate them stepping in like that though, no matter what they think of the situation.
Jungkook did attempt to recap it all through text, rather thoroughly.
+++++++++++
 — past —
February 15th [Friday]
“You guys done fucked things up now. A three-way relationship? Are you fucking kidding me?” Jin was seething as he scolded Jimin and Yoongi in the living room. The other guys were sitting at the dining table as Jin told them that they had to stay for this ordeal. They sat there in silence, waiting for this to (hopefully) end as soon as possible.
If the argument from earlier didn’t sober everyone up, then Jin’s yelling definitely did.
“And you! Taehyung! What were you thinking asking that?!” Jin pointed his finger at Taehyung.
“Huh? Me!? Jimin was the one who told me to ask something risky if Yoongi pulled that block.” Tae tried to avert his gaze from the older man. 
Everyone groaned. Jenga blocks still remained scattered on the table and on the floor of the living room. Unfinished snacks and drinks remained a mess around the table as well. Jin made a mental note to make Yoongi and Jimin clean up the aftermath of Friday Night Game Night as punishment for what happened.
“But you know what, I expected something like this at some point. Hoseok and Taehyung, please pay up. I take Venmo.” The two men—that Jin name dropped—groaned, pulling out their phones to send him the money. “Hyung, what the hell, man?!” Jimin glanced at them back and forth, appalled. Even Yoongi was confused that there was something like this going on, but he really shouldn’t be the one judging right now. “What? Did you think we didn’t suspect anything? That y’all were slick? There were signs...” Jin’s words drifted off.
“Like?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the older man. “Well should I mention the blowjob that Honey gave you in Mr. Kang’s office?” Hoseok interjected as he turned around from his chair. Yoongi’s eyes widened, “What the fuck? H-How did you—” He stumbled on his words. Hoseok didn’t come in until after it ended, he thought. How would he have known!?
“The door may have been closed, but people approaching the door can still hear what goes on behind it. Especially in that old ass building…” Hoseok sighed, “Thought it was just you jacking off in there at first, but when I heard you say, and I quote,  ‘Fuck. You really drive me crazy. You know that, Sunshine?’ I connected the dots quickly. I sat out there waiting until it ended so I could come in to drop my shit.” He emphasized, leaving Yoongi completely speechless.
“Jimin sent me Y/N’s nudes accidently one night!” Taehyung stood up from his chair in an instant, abruptly confessing. “He unsent them, but I caught it! He had to fes’ up to me after that. I thought it was just the both of them in a situationship. Then when Jin said Yoongi hyung was also involved, I couldn’t believe that. But I started connecting the dots during the trip.”
Yoongi narrowed his eyes at Jimin, snarling a bit. Trying to avoid further questioning, Jimin mouths out to him that it happened while he was drunk when he stayed over at Taehyung’s during Christmas break. Though of course, Yoongi cannot read his lips.
“I didn’t lose the bet because I always knew there was a possibility it wasn’t just hyung and Honey after I caught them having sex. Especially based on the conversation Jimin and I had during his birthday party. So I was on Jin’s side.” Jungkook added, then he shrugged. 
“Interesting. Yoongi had told me about a dilemma he had with someone he was seeing. Jimin was also acting a little too clingy to Honey than usual, so I put the pieces together and realized what these two were doing. I thought I was wrong, but Jesus Christ…” Jin sat down in the loveseat, wondering if he had failed as president of Beta Tau Sigma. Should he have not let you move in to prevent this? Or should he have brought it up privately to you three and warned you all not to do it? Whatever scenario he thinks of doesn’t matter. What happened, happened. Now people are hurt and humiliated. He has to step it up to help you guys in any way, especially you. “Does Namjoon hyung know?” Taehyung inquired, earning everyones’ immediate deadpan stare at him. The silent action makes it seem that there is a shared understanding of something. No one wants Namjoon to know what happened. They know that if he finds out, they might have to be ready for their own funerals. “No.” Yoongi answered. “Fair enough. So what’s the plan now?” He followed up with another question. “We don’t even know where Honey went? Is she even somewhere safe?” Taehyung’s attitude towards this situation has been nonchalant, but in reality, he was actually very concerned for your mental wellbeing. He may be a social butterfly fuckboi, but whatever Jimin and Yoongi hid from you was a new low to him. You weren’t very close to him before, but he has grown fond of you in the past 2 years he’s known you. “We’re not telling Namjoon hyung that’s for sure!” Jungkook chimed in, scrolling at his recent messages. “I texted Hwasa because it’s the first person I thought she’d go to. She said that Honey was with her, asleep on her bed. Doesn’t seem like Honey wants to come back anytime soon.”
The guys let out a sigh of relief, though guilt shadowed Jimin and Yoongi. Feeling worn out, Jimin decided to get up from his spot, stumbled a bit and headed up to his room. Jin’s about to follow in pursuit to get him to come back and help clean up, but Yoongi stopped him. “Just let him be, I’ll help clean up if you need it,” The cat-eyed man said, reading into Jin’s intentions. “He’s already mentally punishing himself over this.”
After this, the other guys went into their rooms and called it a night. Yoongi remained in the dimly lit living room area, cleaning the mess that was left behind and reflecting on his frustrations. +++++++++++
You asked Jungkook about Namjoon. You knew that he would start to find things suspicious and eventually interrogate everyone about your whereabouts, like the older sibling figure he is. But Jungkook said that wasn’t the case. Jungkook [Feb 22nd 20XX; 9:24PM]: No, Hyung’s been holed up in his room working on his polisci papers or in the lib’s lab room helping his buddies with stuff.
Jungkook [Feb 22nd 20XX; 9:25PM]: He did ask about you though. Jungkook [Feb 22nd 20XX; 9:25PM]: But me and tae said that you’ve been busy working on a mid-semester project with her so you would be staying over at her dorm for a while. Jungkook [Feb 22nd 20XX; 9:27PM]: Yoongi hyung and Jimin have been closed off since then, but Namjoon hyung hasn’t noticed much.
You keep going through your past texts between Jungkook and rereading what was sent. There are more messages from him mentioning that Jimin and Yoongi have been more standoffish towards others, making you feel concerned for them. Wait. No. You shake your head. Why are you even worried? They were the ones who started it. Did they not realize that things were better off platonic, instead of messing with your heart?
You breathe out, locking your phone. You go back to lying down on your side on the bed, closing your eyes to stop yourself from spiraling. The door suddenly unlocks, and the creaking sound marks Hwasa's entrance into the dorm. Opening your eyes, you observe her movements as she places her backpack on the desk. “Hey Hon, did you go to your class at noon?” She asks, her eyes searching yours. You nod, answering, “Yeah, couldn’t skip it today. Professor Watanabe said we were having a quiz because no one asked questions last class. Came back here after class.”
“Ah, gotcha.” Hwasa comes over to settle on your bed, arranging a throw pillow against the wall for comfort. She shifts her position, making herself at home. "How are ya feeling?"
“Better than before, but still not that great.”
“Maybe you should go out tonight. I think Nu Kappa is having a party tonight? Oh wait, Sigma Lambda is for sure having a house party. Let me check in with Joshua for that one because–”
“No.” You cut her off, though the word coming out of your mouth sounded much harsher than you had wanted it to. “I just don’t want to be around people that I know or potentially know me. Or just run into them.” You refer to Yoongi and Jimin with that line, maybe even Namjoon too. 
You want to talk this whole thing over with them, but you’re not ready yet. You just can’t organize your thoughts yet, and you don’t know why. Maybe it’s the anxiety of knowing that a conversation about this would eventually lead to you guys to cut off contact completely. And that could be it. Maybe that’s for the better. 
You will move out of the Beta Tau Sigma house.
Maybe you can ask Student Housing if they’d be willing to let you officially move into Hwasa’s dorm for the rest of the semester.
Yeah, you can manage to make this work out. But is it what you really want?
No. Of course not. But at this point in time, you can’t imagine this going any other way. “My bad, girl. I just wanted to help cheer you up.” Hwasa’s expression becomes somber.
No, no. You didn’t mean it like that. Why can’t your brain work properly?! “No, it’s just— sorry.” You apologize, trying to think of something to brighten up the mood. “But if you want to go out, don’t let me stop you, bestie! Maybe you want to see a special someone out.” 
Hwasa lets out a giggle, “It’s okay, I know you’re going through a lot right now.” She places her hand on your back to give you reassuring rubs. “But I’ll take that suggestion. Joshua told me his friend is making his DJ debut at Sigma Lambda so I wanted to drop by and support.”
Concern crosses your face, “That sounds pretty awesome, but are you okay going alone? I can go with you if you want.” She shakes her head. “Nah, it’s cool. I don’t want to force you to be there when you’re not feeling too hot. I’ll hit up Annie and ask if she’s down to come with me.” “Okay, that sounds good.” You reply, appreciating her understanding and the attempt to bring some normalcy back into the evening.
+++++++++++
Hwasa was in luck because Annie did respond not long after she sent her a text. She invited Hwasa to get ready over at her dorm, which was the nice apartment-like dorm on the northernmost part of campus. Hwasa says that she might come back late, but more than likely, thinks she’ll be knocked out at Annie’s dorm. She’ll keep you posted. Before she leaves that night, she gives you her access card (since you’ve been entering her dorm before thanks to the shared bathroom she has with the 2 girls in the next dorm) and tells you to feel free to go out to get something for dinner. After that happens, you’re left alone now. The Hello Kitty clock on Hwasa’s table read, “8:46 PM” Maybe you should grab something to eat. You honestly haven’t been eating properly. But you are tired of the dining hall food after almost two weeks of eating it. You hated it even when you used to dorm last year. “Maybe I’ll order from DoorDash to treat myself after a tough week,” You say to yourself while you lay down on Hwasa’s big fluffy pink floor rug. Netflix movie night and take-out sounds ideal, right?
Just as you’re scrolling through your phone trying to find an option you’re craving, you hear a loud knock at the door. 
Oh shit.
It’s not Hwasa, right? She would’ve texted you that she was coming back because she forgot something. Then is it the RA? No. Hwasa said she was cool with him, so he wouldn’t snitch you out. Did something else happen?
You get up from your comfortable position to walk towards the door. You’re not gonna lie, you’re a little nervous to open it.
Who the fuck could it even be on a Friday night?
You open it slowly, seeing tall figures coming into view.
“Honey, come out!” “Taehyung!?” You yelp out. Once you recognize the voice, you rapidly open the door wide enough to find Taehyung, Jungkook and Hoseok on the other side. “What the hell are you guys doing here?” You ask. You don’t remember telling them to come over. Even if you did, there’s not much they can do in such a small dorm. This is the first time in two weeks you’re talking to any of the other guys besides Jungkook. “We came over because we want to invite you out,” Hoseok responds this time, signature heart smile showing. “We know you haven’t been feeling well so we want to go with you and let loose!”
You’re getting deja vu from the same conversation you had with Hwasa earlier.
“So go get changed out of your…pajamas.” Jungkook looks down at you as he speaks, somewhat checking you out. A thought in your mind just clicks that he was looking at your chest, wearing no bra and cleavage all out. Men… You’ve been wearing your lace tank top and My Melody pajama pants since you got back from class. You didn’t have any plans of going out after class, so why be dressed up in tight jeans, a shirt and whatever else for the whole day? 
“Look, guys. That sounds like a mighty plan you got there, but I really don’t think I should go.” “But why not? There’s nothing better than drinking and forgetting your regrets! Please come with us!” Taehyung steps in closer, trying to welcome himself inside.
“Because… I’m feeling a little sick…?” The guys look at you in complete disbelief before you admit the truth. “Okay, fine, I don’t want to party around here and see these people.”
“Who said we’re partying here?” Jungkook smirks, “No, we’re going… somewhere else.” “Where is this ‘somewhere else’ you speak of?” You narrow your eyes, mild interest sparking behind them.
“Stop asking so many questions and just get ready. I’ll even help you pick out something.” Hoseok takes this as an opportunity to enter the dorm, where you direct him to your closet of stuff. The two other guys follow in as well and stand there as Hoseok is sifting through the rack mixed with jeans, blouses, skirts and sweaters.  
“Here, this is cute.” He hands you your black heart ring detail halter top, flared jeans, and a black knit cardigan. “Oh, this isn’t that bad of a look? No wonder people say you’re the most stylish on the dance team.” 
Hoseok grins, his eyes lighting up with pride at the compliment. "Well, you know, I've got an eye for these things. Now, go change into this. The night may be young, but we’re not getting any younger here!"
You take the outfit from him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thanks, Hobi. I appreciate it." You look back at the guys who are still standing in the dorm, chuckling. "Um alright, can you guys step outside the door while I change?"
“Oh whoops!” Jungkook yells out, The three guys scurry out of the dorm, giving you a moment of privacy to change. 
Hoseok calls after you behind the door, "Let me know if you need any makeup tips! I'm a pro at this too."
You chuckle, appreciating the effort to lighten the mood. In the bathroom, you quickly change into the outfit Hoseok picked out. It's a mix of your style but with a touch of Hoseok's fashion flair. The black heart ring detail halter top fits snugly, paired with flared jeans and a cozy black knit cardigan. You glance at yourself in the mirror, the reflection showing a slightly different version of you.
After a deep breath, you open the door, greeted by the approving nods and smiles of Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook. Taehyung claps his hands together. "Looking good! Now, let's get out there and have some fun!"
With excitement now in the air, you grab your bag before you go and you all head out the building.
+++++++++++
Jungkook leads the way to his car, a sleek 2017 Mercedes-Benz C300 parked in the student parking lot next to Hwasa's dorm. The soft glow of the streetlights reflects off the polished surface, and you can't help but appreciate the comfortable luxury of his car. You will always remember that he begged his parents to sign off on it so he could get it as his graduation gift.
Jungkook unlocks the doors, and you all pile in, anticipation building for the night ahead.
The drive is filled with a mix of laughter and excited chatter as you navigate through the city. The atmosphere in the car is lively, the previous stress of weeks ago momentarily forgotten as you stare out of the car looking at the skyline of city lights on the freeway. It feels less suffocating over here. No Jimin. No Yoongi. No Namjoon. Just you and the other boys. You weren’t too keen on coming along with them, but now that you’re sitting here, DEAN’s Pour Up bass boosted on the car speakers, you know you made a good choice. You gotta let loose.
After 20 minutes on the road, Jungkook exits off the freeway into a residential area. As he finds a parking spot, you can hear the distant bass of music and the chatter of college students walking around. Is this another college’s Greek row?  The car engine turns off, and you all step outside looking around the neighborhood.
You're immediately struck by the grandeur of the fraternity houses. They are much bigger than the ones at your college campus, their size and architecture exuding an air of privilege. These houses are easily identifiable by the prominent display of large Greek letters or flags proudly adorning the front, signaling the presence of each fraternity.
Lights spill out from the windows, and the distant sounds of music and laughter grow louder as you approach the houses. The atmosphere is charged with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness being here. Though, you’re glad that you won’t run into people you know here. And even if you do, the chance is likely really low. Who would come 20 minutes away to party at another college?
Once this question comes to your mind, you feel a little odd. Wait, are you forgetting something?
Before you can think about it more, Jungkook gently holds your wrist, leading the way through the lively crowds of students walking around, and you follow suit. 
The four of you approach the entrance of one of the bigger fraternity houses, the thumping bass becomes almost palpable. The flag outside says ΗΨΒ— Eta Psi Beta. You’re honestly not familiar with this one as it seems to be one that doesn’t have a chapter at your college. Without hesitation or restrictions, you guys walk into the side entrance leading to the backyard. After several steps of walking along the slightly lit path, you're engulfed in an atmosphere of sights and sounds. The massive backyard is packed with people, the air pulsating with the beats of a 2010s party mix blaring from the speakers. You see a pretty girl with a colorful knit top and black hair DJing the party from the far end of the backyard, along with several people behind her overseeing the vibes. Color-changing lights crisscross above, connected to tall oak trees, casting a warm glow over the lively scene below.
To your right, a makeshift bar is set up, complete with a variety of drinks and colorful cocktails. Students are chatting, dancing, and moving in synchronized rhythm with the music. The atmosphere is infectious, and you find yourself getting into the groove, the worries of the past weeks slowly fading away. 
Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok lead you through the crowd, their excitement contagious. You can't help but marvel at the sheer scale of the party, a stark contrast to the more intimate gatherings you're used to. 
"Isn't this amazing?" Taehyung exclaims over the music, and you respond with an enthusiastic nod.
“How the hell did you guys find this party?” you shout back at him, catching yourself staring at the DJ Girl changing the setlist to some House and UK Garage music to hype up the crowd more.
“Jungkook says he knows a guy here!” Hoseok adds.
“Yeah! We go to the same gym off-campus and box a bit,” Jungkook explains closer to your ear so you could hear amid the lively ambiance. “Oh look! Speak of the devil!” His eyes widen when he sees the man he’s referring to step right up in front of you guys. “Woah! Jungkook! You came!” The man speaks with excitement in his eyes, facial features reflecting a youthfulness that adds to his charm. Like Jungkook, he possesses captivating doe eyes that convey both innocence and a hint of curiosity. He is seemingly younger than your group, however, his height is exactly the same as the trio with you. Jungkook chuckles, going in for a bro hug. “Didn’t think I was going to, but I dragged some friends with me.” Jungkook moves aside to introduce you three, “This is Hoseok, Taehyung, and Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you guys! I’m Taehyun Kang.” He extends a handshake to each of you, catching you off guard. Awkwardly, you take his hand in yours. His politeness radiates, and you can't help but find it adorable.
Taehyun leads the way, gesturing toward the makeshift bar. "Oh! Since you guys are here, let's get some drinks!" he suggests, guiding you through the lively crowd towards the vibrant bar area. “We have a special jungle juice just for tonight’s event. We call it Sugar Rush Ride!” He leans close to you guys, “We basically dumped a bunch of blue raspberry Jolly Ranchers in it mixed with other alcohols!” “Oh that seems pretty cool! Let me get some!” You say.  Taehyun smiles, pouring you some in a blue plastic cup and hands it to you. “You guys want to try some too?”
“I’m the DD for the drive back home, but these two can get some.” Hoseok reassures the younger men it's okay to get wasted. He’s always been a reliable upperclassman and brother to them.
You take the chance to sip the cup. Mm. It’s a little too sweet for your taste, but the strong burning sensation (of what you assume is rum and vodka), helps it lessen. Good. This is what you need right now so badly.
Fuck it.
For a moment, you're content to let go of your troubles and embrace the carefree spirit of the night.
+++++++++++
“Where’s Y/N? She’s not in her room.”
This question catches Jin off guard as he sips his wine, slightly choking on it before setting it down on the coffee table. He’s hanging out with Namjoon, John, San and Soyoon watching a Ghibli movie in the living room. Not that he was paying much attention, he was on his phone playing the new Maple Story update. Yoongi went to play basketball at the intramural gymnasium on campus, while Jimin went drinking with an upperclassmen, Taemin.
Of course Jin knew where you were this whole time since the fight, and even tonight when Hoseok said they were inviting you to the Eta Psi Beta party at the neighboring university. But is he about to tell Namjoon?
He’s not sure. Jin pauses the game on his phone, glancing at Namjoon. "Yeah, she mentioned she's spending the night at Hwasa's place. They've been hanging out a lot lately," he says, attempting a nonchalant tone to avoid revealing any hint of the tension between you and the others. His eyes flicker between the screen and Namjoon, unsure whether he should disclose more information.
Namjoon raises an eyebrow, a slight frown forming on his face. "Is she okay?"
Jin hesitates for a moment, debating how much to share. "I guess? She just said she needed a change of scenery, you know?"
"What do you mean?" Namjoon presses, sensing there might be more to the story.
Jin takes a deep breath, his gaze shifting away momentarily. "Look, there's been some tension lately. I think she just needed some space to clear her head."
Namjoon's expression tightens, concern deepening. "Tension? What happened?" John, San and Soyoon’s attention from the movie has been diverted to the conversation happening between Jin and Namjoon. Jin sighs, knowing he can’t divulge more information in front of them. So he gets up, grabbing Namjoon’s wrist, and dragging him into the hallway leading to their rooms. “God, I hate having to hide shit from you of all people.” Jin whispers aggressively, putting his hands on the taller man’s shoulders. “Fine, basically, Y/N ran away two weeks ago and is staying at Hwasa’s dorm.” “...What the fuck, Seokjin?!” Namjoon reins in his emotions, realizing that getting upset won't help him understand the situation better. Now, more than ever, he needs to find out what's going on with you. “Why didn’t anyone tell me—”
He interrupts the younger man, sighing in frustration. “It’s not my place to tell you what happened exactly and neither was it anyone else’s. I think you might have an idea, though, even if you weren’t there. If you want to know, go find her.”
Namjoon is left speechless, brows furrowing as he absorbs the information, a surge of worry overtaking him. 
Jin nods, understanding Namjoon's urgency. “And we didn’t want to get you upset and probably wreck anything…or anyone.”
“Where is she, Jin?”
Jin, once again hesitates for a moment. “She’s at a party with Hoseok, Tae, and Jungkook. It’s at the…Eta Psi Beta house at that neighboring university, not too far from here.”
“Oh Sh–” Namjoon looks like a deer caught in headlights, evident concern plastered on his face. “Did you not fucking know that’s the frat that he is in?”
“He?” Jin pauses for a moment confused about who Namjoon was referring to before it all clicks in his head, panicking. “Holy fuck! How was I supposed to remember that? Jungkook said he had a friend there. And I mean, it’s a big frat…what are the odds that she’ll run into him?”
Namjoon takes a deep breath, frustration and worry battling within him. He has been keeping tabs here and there on this guy for over a year, just out of concern for you. He wasn’t sure if you’d ever plan to seek him, or vice versa. No, this isn’t good. 
He doesn't want to waste any time. 
“I’m going out!” Without another word, he heads towards the front door.
John gets up from the couch seeing the commotion. “Woah, Joon, what’s going on?” His brows furrow, searching Namjoon's face for answers.
Namjoon's jaw clenches as he sighs, concern etched across his face. “I need to go find Y/N. She’s at Eta Psi’s party at UOX 20 minutes away, and she might be in some trouble soon.” As he speaks, his eyes dart around, calculating the steps he needs to take.
John senses the urgency in Namjoon's movements and offers his assistance. “I’ll take you! I didn’t drink at all earlier so I’m good to drive.”
Soyoon, catching wind of the unfolding situation, joins in, her eyes wide with concern. “We'll come along too and help you find her!”
Meanwhile, Jin, trying to compose himself, acknowledges the chaos. “I wanna go, but I’ll stay here. Yoongi will be back later, so it’ll be suspicious if we’re all gone,” he says, his demeanor calm but resolute, a stabilizing force amid the growing turmoil. Namjoon’s gaze flickers briefly to Jin, silently thanking him for staying behind. He then nods appreciatively at John's offer, grateful for the immediate support. "Thanks, John. Let's go."
 He gestures for San and Soyoon to follow as well, her worried expression mirrors his own. As they make their way to the door, John grabs his jacket, his movements quick and purposeful.
The front door closes, leaving Jin alone with his own contemplations. The room, once filled with casual conversation and the glow of the TV now feels empty and eerily quiet.
He glances at his phone, pondering whether he should reach out to Yoongi. He knows Yoongi hates that man’s guts just as much as Namjoon, but he knows that you will be even more troubled if you see him as well. As he debates internally, Jin takes a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever repercussions may follow, hoping that Namjoon can find you and the other boys swiftly and ensure you don’t end up seeing him.
+++++++++++
After several drinks, you’ve gotten lost in the humongous crowd of people filling the backyard of this frat house. The last time you remember seeing Taehyung’s social butterfly ass was when he was striking up conversations with a couple of girls. His infectious laughter and charming boxy smile drew them towards him, and soon he was engaged in a friendly game of beer pong with a group jealous guys and trying to show off his skills and impressive aim to the girls. They loved it.
You believe Jungkook was dragged away by an excited Taehyun wanting to show him something inside the house, though you’re not sure if he’s back…and somewhere in this crowd.  
So that leaves you with Hoseok for a while, and when 4 Walls by F(X) starts playing, he nudges you into the middle of the crowd.
You dance with him for a bit, enjoying yourself as you attempt to follow along the movements he does. This ends with you awkwardly laughing at your own failure. You could never pop and lock, or whatever he did.  You’re just not that flexible at all or well-versed with dance moves that aren’t “The Robot”. But Hoseok is gentle when teaching you. Compared to how strict he is with his students during his dance class sessions, according to Jungkook.
Dancing with him was short-lived, as he tells you to stay put because he wants to enter the dance circle emerging from the middle of the crowd in front of the DJ. He might be the DD for the night, but he isn’t going to miss out on the fun while being sober.
You don’t want to be squished with drunk, sweaty bodies around you, so you end up next to the DJ booth, where the same girl is still spinning tracks and taking charge of the party’s setlist. Her effortless grace and commanding presence behind the turntables catch your attention, and you can't help but be intrigued by her.
"So, how did you get into DJing?" you ask, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the music. Usually, you’re not as courageous to start conversations with random people, but today, the alcohol in your system said otherwise.
The girl flashes you a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Well, I've always had a passion for music," she replies, adjusting a knob on the mixer with practiced ease. "Back in Japan, I used to DJ at small local events. When I came here for my exchange program, I jumped at the chance to share my love for music with a new audience."
You nod, impressed by her dedication and talent. "Oh wow! That's amazing. You're really good at it," you comment, nodding towards the crowd as they groove to the beat.
Her smile widens at the compliment, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Thanks! I love seeing people enjoy themselves on the dance floor, connected by the music."
As you continue chatting, you come to find out her name is Sakura, and is in the same year as you. Before you get the chance to tell her your name, your attention is suddenly drawn to the makeshift dance floor where Hoseok is engaged in a spirited dance battle with another party-goer. The two of them move with grace and precision, their movements synchronized to the pulsating rhythm of the music.
You watch in awe as Hoseok dazzles the crowd with his fluid dance moves, his energy infectious as he captivates everyone around him. The other dancer, who you couldn’t see well from your angle, seems to hold their own with impressive skill drawing impressed sounds from the people watching. The guy keeps matching Hoseok move for move while Summer Walker’s Dat Right There plays in the background. After they finish, two other guys are up and dancing to the next song on Sakura’s setlist.
Sakura follows your gaze as you watch Hoseok get mixed into the crowd once again, a smile playing on her lips. "Looks like your friend knows how to move," she remarks, her eyes twinkling with amusement. 
You nod in agreement, feeling a swell of pride over your friend getting complimented. “Yup! He’s won several dance competitions in the past.” You sip your blue cup. What even is the alcohol inside this cup? You think maybe you should stop drinking before you start to get the urge to puke. Though, when else can you go all out like this without their supervision?
“Competition!? Woah, that’s on a whole other level than Jun! He’s in the school’s dance team too.”
You want to continue your conversation with Sakura, but suddenly, you feel your vision spin. Shit, maybe you are at your limit. You used to be able to drink more, why are you so weak tonight? You try to hold onto the table for stability, which then catches Sakura’s attention.
 “Wait, hey…you okay?”
You quickly look up at her, and wave her off. “Uh, yeah! 100%. Just need some water.”
“There’s cases of bottled water in the kitchen, just head in through the back door. Think you can make it there? I would help, but I’m—”
You manage a weak smile, grateful for Sakura's concern. "Don’t worry! I'll do that. Thanks, Sakura," you reply, your voice sounding more slurred as you attempt to maintain your composure. With a determined nod, you push yourself away from the table, focusing on steadying your steps as you make your way toward the back door.
As you navigate through the throngs of bodies, you can feel the effects of the alcohol weighing heavily on your senses. The music seems louder now, the lights brighter, and the voices around you a chaotic blur. You press a hand to your temple, willing away the dizzy spell that threatens to overwhelm you.
The sudden shift in atmosphere hits you like a wave as you step inside the house. The air is thick with smoke, a potent mixture of cigarette and weed fumes that assault your senses. You cough slightly, your eyes watering as you try to adjust to the stifling environment. 
The dim lighting casts long shadows across the room, adding to the hazy ambiance. People are scattered throughout the space, lounging on couches, leaning against walls, and mingling in small groups. The music from outside pounds in your ears, reverberating through the walls and floor, making it difficult to think clearly. 
Making your way to the kitchen, you find the bottled water, grab one and twist off the cap, taking a long gulp of the refreshing liquid. The relief is short lived though, as you glance around, searching for a familiar face in the sea of strangers. Jungkook, Hoseok, and Taehyung are nowhere to be seen for some time. 
You feel a pang of unease at being separated from your friends at a random frat party, God knows where. You’re also passed the point of being tipsy. 
What school are you even at? Why didn’t you bother asking about it in the car earlier?
Maybe you should try finding Jungkook. Yeah, he should be inside somewhere. You didn’t see him come out earlier.
You walk to the living room to try to search for him amongst the lax bodies taking hits from bongs, but suddenly you hear your name called out.
“Y/N!”
Jungkook?
Wait, did that sound like Jungkook calling out to you? Maybe? Maybe not?
You’re drunk, but the voice sounds familiar, though. Who is that?
You turn around.
And when you do, you immediately regret it.
The familiar voice that you deemed to be Jungkook was not him, but it wasn’t completely unfamiliar to you at all. You used to hear this voice so often. A voice that would whisper sweet nothings to you in the late summer nights and would annoy the hell out of you with his comments.
It can’t be him, you think. You’re drunk! You’re just drunk, Y/N! Why would it be him, here, right now? As much as you tried to refute the appearance of that man before you, the image became clearer.
Choi Yeonjun.
Once you realize this, everything around you seizes movement. Soon, it feels like you stepped into a dream with how hazy everything has become. The atmosphere consumed with smoke from people smoking weed here is definitely not helping. 
You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol running through your veins or your anxiety making the world spin once more, but there’s a curdling feeling in your stomach now.
Before you can even think, your legs start to move you back, very slowly. Away from the man who left you devastated and heartbroken not too long ago.
“Y-Yeon–”
“Y/N…” 
Fuck. It’s been almost two years and you still can’t fucking say his name. What’s wrong with you? You’re over him. Why are you somehow standing here in fear just from being in his presence?
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Me either.” That’s all you can mutter out? Wait. Is the “Jun” that Hoseok was dancing against earlier. Holy shit, this is all making sense. Of course you knew he went to a university close to you, but there’s thousands of students going there too. You would’ve never thought you’d just see fucking Yeonjun out of all people at a random ass frat party.
You wonder if he could sense the fear crawling through your skin, controlling your muscle movements. Your vision quivers twice as much as it should. Don’t make eye contact dammit.
Too late.
Despite your overwhelming urge to flee, you force yourself to stand your ground as Yeonjun approaches closer, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow. Every instinct screams at you to run, to go find the guys, to escape the memories that threaten to engulf you, but you swallow down your fear and brace yourself for what comes next.
"How have you been?" He asks, his voice soft yet filled with a tinge of uncertainty. 
You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of softness. And perhaps weakness. Your heart pounds in your chest, your palms clammy with nerves as you struggle to find the right words to respond. You’re gonna puke at this rate and it’s going to be embarrassing.
"Good... uh, how are you?" you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can't bring yourself to meet his eyes, the fear of what you might see reflected in them too overwhelming to bear. Instead, you focus on a spot just over his shoulder, willing yourself to remain composed despite the turmoil raging inside you.
Yeonjun's response is brief, almost curt. "Good," he says, his voice devoid of any emotion.
There's a tense silence between you two. You can feel the weight of the past pressing down on you, threatening to suffocate you with its suffocating embrace. But still, you refuse to break, determined to weather the storm no matter what.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Yeonjun speaks again, his voice hesitant yet persistent on something. "Okay, look, I know it’s been awhile, but I noticed you talking to Sakura earlier and I thought it was fate that I saw you after so long. Can we talk?"
“Huh? What?” 
Now what’s this about? You’ve been through too much and having a conversation about whatever the fuck is on his mind is something you do not want to do tonight. Or ever. You guys have been done. You have no more tears left to cry. You know your heart lies elsewhere.
“I know things ended badly when I left you, but—”
You’re not sure if he’s apologizing after reflecting on the past some time ago or if he’s trying to get back together with you, but you cannot stomach this. You want to leave. He’s probably drunk anyways. If he sincerely feels either of the two ways, he would’ve come to find you earlier to tell while he’s sober.
“Yeonjun,” You sigh heavily as you interrupt him, giving him a stern expression to show that you’re serious, “I’m not feeling too great right now. I need to go find the guys.”
“The guys?” Yeonjun scoffs. “You’re still hanging around with them?”
“Who?”
“Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin.”
What? You’re not even going to tell him that’s not who you’re here with, but now you have questions. There’s something he’s clearly insinuating here that he never told you when you two were dating. You wonder if it’s related to the reason why he ended things when you thought they were going so well. 
You want to keep edging him on until he spills.
“What’s wrong with that?” You raise your eyebrow, getting progressively more pissed off.
Yeonjun’s gaze hardens, his features contorting with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. “What’s wrong with that?” he echoes, his voice tinged with bitterness. “Can’t believe you’re still so dense after all this time.”
No, never mind. You’re not going to stand here and be degraded until you get a piece of a puzzle that doesn’t matter anymore.
“If you’re going to fucking insult me, then I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not leaving yet!” Yeonjun suddenly grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. His fingers dig into your skin with a painful intensity. You cringe for a moment. Panic courses through your veins as you struggle against his hold, desperate to break free from his grasp.
Before you could fight against his hold further, you turn to see a man, similar in height to Yeonjun, shoving him roughly against the nearest wall, his expression dark and menacing. This action makes Yeonjun let go as his hands are now elsewhere.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch the altercation unfold, fear and uncertainty swirling inside you like a raging storm. Who is this man?
Holy shit. 
Looking at him closely, the realization hits you like a ton of bricks—it's Namjoon.
Why is he here? How did he know you guys were here anyway?
"What the fuck is your problem grabbing her like that?" Namjoon's voice cuts through the chaos, his tone filled with anger and concern.
“Wait, Namjoon! Just stop. Let it go!”
Hoseok's voice breaks through the chaos, drawing your attention. He strides towards you, his eyes blazing with fury and worry. Taehyung and Jungkook follow closely behind, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. A crowd starts to form around them, even bringing in more people from outside after hearing the commotion.
Namjoon moves quickly, grabbing Yeonjun by the collar. “I don’t like violence, but you’ve really been pissing me off since that summer.” he growls, his voice dripping with menace.
Yeonjun staggers backward, out of Namjoon’s hold. Though his eyes remain wide with shock. He seems uncertain of what to do next, caught off guard by Namjoon's appearance and sudden aggression. His expression shifts from surprise to defiance, his jaw clenched with determination.
"Pissed off at me?" Yeonjun's voice is laced with poison, his eyes narrowing as he locks gazes with Namjoon. "I'm the one pissed off at you knowing she liked you this whole time and you never noticed a goddamn thing."
You remain frozen while hearing the words coming out of Yeonjun’s mouth. You liking Namjoon this whole time? Gears turn in your head. Did you never realize those feelings slip out of you? During the times you’d lovingly call Yeonjun, ‘Junnie’...did it feel so right because it was the same nickname Namjoon had? Yeonjun suddenly interjects with a sharp tone, "So you should stop acting up." 
The room falls into a momentary silence, punctuated only by the muffled thud as Yeonjun swiftly grabs a book from a nearby table and hits Namjoon's head with it. There's an audible gasp from the onlookers, some leaning forward in their spots to get a better view, while others recoil in shock at the unexpected turn of events.
Namjoon, caught off guard by the sudden blow, winces as the book makes contact with his head. He instinctively brings a hand up to rub the spot where he was struck, his expression a mixture of surprise and discomfort.
You, too, are taken aback by Yeonjun's action, your eyes widening as you and hoping they’ll just stop. 
Namjoon regains his posture and immediately goes back to gripping Yeonjun's collar, this time more tightly. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he retorts, his voice low and dangerous.
Yeonjun laughs, a bitter edge to the sound. "How thick is your skull? You can’t see how she’s looking at you, even now?” he sneers. "She's always been thinking of you all this time! Even when I was fucking her—"
Before Yeonjun can finish his sentence, Namjoon's fist connects with his jaw, the force of the blow sending him staggering backward once more. Yeonjun stumbles again, his balance thrown off by the unexpected attack and he falls to the floor.
The room erupts into chaos as people nearby shout and gasp in surprise. Namjoon steps forward, his expression dark and unreadable as he advances on Yeonjun, who raises his hands defensively.
"Namjoon, stop!" Your voice cuts through the tumult, your tone urgent as you rush forward to intervene. 
“Y/N, get away from them!” Jungkook runs towards you, trying to pull you away. Hoseok and Taehyung's faces are etched with concern as they rush to restrain Namjoon. Two other guys you recognize as Yeonjun’s close friends Soobin and Taehyun try to restrain Yeonjun as well. 
You run towards Namjoon and with a strong pull, manage to move him away and make him snap out of his sudden rage. When he looks down at your eyes, he notices you're slowly sobbing, frustrated.
He turns to look at Yeonjun, sitting on the ground as Soobin and Taehyun tend to his bloody nose as a result of the punch. 
As Namjoon's eyes meet yours, he registers the anguish reflected in your tear-filled gaze. The sight of your distress is like a bucket of cold water, jolting him out of his blind rage. Guilt washes over him as he realizes the impact his actions have had on you.
"Y/N," he murmurs, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
But before he can finish his apology, you turn away, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Your heart feels heavy with a mixture of emotions—anger, frustration, and overwhelming sadness. You feel stupid in a way. What are you upset about? Is it because he fought and hurt Yeonjun? Is it because of the pact he had with Yoongi and Jimin? Is it because Yeonjun touched upon growing feelings you tried to repress?
Probably, it’s all of the above.
Namjoon reaches out to touch your arm, his expression pleading. "We need to talk."
Should you talk to Namjoon? You’re starting to sober up a bit after all that, so maybe you should come clean to him about everything that has happened not only in the last few weeks, but the last few months.
And perhaps, it’s time to put an end to your feelings or let yourself be consumed by them.
“Okay, fine, let’s go outside," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. You wipe your tears, calming your breathing to stop the sobs. Namjoon nods in agreement, his expression somber as he follows you through the crowd. 
+++++++++++ 
“Why are you here?” You look down impatiently at Namjoon, who is now sitting on the sidewalk outside of the Eta Psi house. 
John, Soyoon, and San stand outside, their expressions etched with concern as they searched for you earlier. Namjoon waves them away, urging them to retreat inside and grant you both some privacy. They comply reluctantly, casting worried glances over their shoulders as they leave. They didn’t witness the fight or Namjoon getting hit, but it is evident from the tear stains on your face and Namjoon's deflated demeanor that something bad happened. They will likely learn the details later from Jungkook, who will be sure to fill them in once they are indoors.
“What? Why are you here? At this party a few towns over, all alone?”
“I wasn't alone! I came here with Tae, Jungkook and Hoseok. But what the hell is wrong with you?” “What do you mean what the fuck is wrong with me? Yeonjun suddenly grabbed you. I was trying to protect you.”
“You didn’t need to protect me because I could’ve handled that! Way better than you, who started a fight!” you retort, your voice rising with anger.
Stunned, Namjoon huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “You were standing there for a solid five minutes, hands shaking, and stuck in place!”
He saw that too? Shit. He’s right. You couldn’t even move, and once again it was just like the summer right before freshman year of college. Right when he broke up with you and the last time you ever faced him. You hate having to recall that day when it felt like all the love you poured into this human you cared for so dearly became dried up and nonexistent.
Not wanting to admit your faults and being in a partially drunk stupor, you let your cold nature take over.
“Who even asked you to do that?” you snap, your tone cold and defensive.
Namjoon only stares at you, unblinking and feeling the distance you suddenly put in between him. “Who asked me? Who–” he begins, but his words trail off.
This silence cuts through the night air. For once in your life, Namjoon cannot find the right words to articulate his thoughts. He suddenly looks flustered, debating what he should even say.
And in that second, your harsher features start to soften in realization. You regret your bitter question aimed at him and reflecting on your past trauma. Why did you have to say that? What the fuck is wrong with you?  You used to be more calm and collective for fucks sake. Who even are you anymore? 
Namjoon can be petty by nature too, though he’s never been like that toward you. 
“Says the same person who’s been in a fuck buddies deal with Yoongi and Jimin.”
Silence once again. Except now, it is accompanied by a light shower. It’s raining.
Your mind, however, is very loud right now. Screaming internally with millions of questions. More importantly: How the fuck did he find out? Did the other guys spill to him? Or did he know all along? Since when? 
“Joon, that’s just…it’s not…” Cat has your tongue now.
He chuckles bitterly, “Am I even mad? Nah, ‘mad’ doesn’t even cut it.” he mutters, his voice tinged with sadness. He looks down at his hands, now covered in droplets of rainwater, and sighs heavily. “I’ve been good at hiding it, but it’s been so fucking upsetting how stupid you three are for doing that. But how the fuck could I have confronted y’all?”
“Well if it weren’t for you making out with Jihyo at the party right in front my eyes, then this wouldn’t have happened. I just got so upset and ran off. Yoongi was only trying to comfort me, but I was the one who initiated everything. So if you’re going to hate someone, hate me.”
You may have lost Yoongi and Jimin, but the idea of Namjoon hating you and losing him hurts so much. But if you have to end things, might as well do it now.
So fucking much.
“No.” He mumbles.
“What?” “No.” Namjoon’s voice is much clearer, and definitive. He stares into your eyes, but before you can fully process his response, your own words spill out in a rush of guilt and self-loathing. 
“Uh I’ve been sleeping with our other two best friends, and even that won’t get you to hate me?” Tears blur your vision and you struggle to formulate a coherent discussion of every selfish thing you’ve done. “I feel like the shittiest person alive right now! Yoongi and I basically did that out of frustration against you and Jimin becoming distant and changing. Then Jimin ended things with Irene because he liked me all this time and then he got caught up with me and Yoongi and now we got into a fight and–”
“I’m never going to hate you, Y/N.” Namjoon interrupts, his voice steady and filled with unwavering conviction. “Because even if you did that shit, it’s clear as day to me why you did all of that. It’s because you’ve been in love with me all this time too.” His words hang in the air, a profound acknowledgment of the truth that lingers between you. 
There it is.
The thoughts you never wanted to address, not even to Yoongi on the night of the Gamma party.
Namjoon finally realized too. You hate to thank Yeonjun for making the dots connect in his mind.
“Well, congrats on opening Pandora’s box, because you’re right.” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Is he going to say something sassy, like ‘I’m always right!’? You wouldn’t even mind him shoving it in your face, because you deserve it after all. You got yourself into this mess.
Namjoon rises from the sidewalk and you find yourself enveloped in his warm embrace under the rain, his arms a comforting anchor amidst the turmoil of your emotions. In that moment, you realize that perhaps there’s still hope for the two of you, despite the mistakes and misunderstandings that have plagued your relationship. As you stand in Namjoon’s embrace, surrounded by the gentle patter of raindrops and the soft glow of streetlights, you find the courage to bare your soul to him.
“Namjoon,” you begin, your voice trembling with emotion, “Ever since we first became friends, I’ve felt something for you. It’s hard to put into words, but it’s always been there, just lingering beneath the surface.”
You pause, your thoughts drifting to the countless moments you’ve shared with him—the laughter, the tears, the late-night conversations that stretched into dawn about the most existential topics. From elementary until now. Each memory is etched into your heart, forming a tapestry of emotions that binds you to him in ways you never imagined possible.
“But it’s not just you,” you continue, your words spilling out in a rush of honesty. “Yoongi and Jimin, they’ve also carved out a place in my heart, each in their own way. It’s complex, messy, and kinda overwhelming.”
Your voice wavers as you confess the tangled web of emotions that have plagued you for so long. “But you, Namjoon…you’re the first love I never wanted to admit. I really wanted to take this to the grave if I could.”
Namjoon’s arms tighten around you, offering silent reassurance as you lay bare your deepest fears and desires. You already know how he feels, but him having the chance to hear you out probably eased every one of his own doubts and concerns.
As the rain continues to fall around you, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the scene, you feel a sense of serenity wash over you. The world around you fades into the background, leaving only you and Namjoon standing amidst the gentle rhythm of the rain.
With a newfound clarity, you tilt your head up to meet Namjoon's gaze, the air thick with anticipation. His eyes, dark pools of warmth and understanding, reflect the same emotions swirling within your own heart.
In this moment, there's no need for words. The unspoken longing between you hangs heavy in the air, a silent symphony of desire and yearning that binds you together.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, you reach up, your fingers tangling in the damp strands of Namjoon's hair. His breath catches in his throat as you draw him closer, your lips hovering just inches apart.
And then, with a surge of courage born from the depths of your heart, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a tender, tentative kiss.
The world seems to stand still as your lips meet, a symphony of emotions surrounding you, with a euphoric dizzying.You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol in your system doing that anymore. This is purely you in this moment suspended in time while the soft caress of your lips are against his.
For a heartbeat, you linger in the sweetness of the kiss, savoring the taste of rain and desire on his lips. And then, as if Namjoon becomes more confident in the moment, he deepens the kiss, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as you lose yourself in the intoxicating embrace of each other.
And this is where you realize, in the gentle patter of rain and the soft glow of streetlights, that this is where you belong—in Namjoon's arms, with his lips pressed against yours, in a world where love knows no bounds.
You pull away from the kiss, a soft giggle escapes your lips. The sound mingles with the gentle patter of raindrops around you. "I've wanted to do that for so long," you admit, a playful glint in your eyes. "Even when you were being annoying and scolding me at times, I thought it would've been better to shut you up with a kiss."
Namjoon's cheeks flush with a delicate shade of pink, his gaze shifting away shyly. "I...I wouldn't have minded," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. You love seeing this flustered side of him, and hope you can see more of it.
Before you can respond, the sound of wet footsteps interrupts the moment, and you turn to see John emerging from the house, followed closely by Soyoon, Jungkook, Hoseok, Taehyung, and San, who peer curiously from behind him.
"Are you lovebirds done over there?" John teases, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he gestures to you and Namjoon.
You feel your cheeks heat up at his words, feeling embarrassed that you were likely caught kissing Namjoon. Though, besides John’s question, no one else comments on the situation. "Um yeah, I think I wanna go back home," you say, your gaze shifting to Namjoon, who nods in agreement. "I wasn’t feeling good earlier, had too much to drink." "That’s why I told you to be careful!" Jungkook chimes in, scolding you jokingly as he tries to earn some brownie points from Namjoon for looking out for you. “You didn’t say anything!” You expose him, eliciting laughter from everyone present. Even amidst the lighthearted banter, your mind drifts back to Yeonjun, more or less because you’re worried about him taking legal action against Namjoon. “Wait, is Yeonjun…”
“Yeonjun’s going to be fine," Jungkook reassures, making you sigh in relief.  "Hueningkai and Beomgyu helped take him up to his room. He was pretty drunk, so we don’t think he’ll remember anything that happened tonight.”
Relief washes over you at Jungkook's reassurance about Yeonjun's well-being, the worry in your chest easing slightly. 
“Alright, I’ll take you and the others back,” John announces, motioning for you to follow him to his car parked across the street from the frat house.
As you approach the vehicle, you turn to Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook across the street. “Are you guys heading back too?”
Hoseok shakes his head with a smile. “Nah, we’ll stick around for a bit longer, make sure everything's all good here.”
“The night is still young for us, but go get some rest, Honey,” Taehyung says, gesturing for you to get in the car.
You give them a grateful smile, appreciating their willingness to stay behind and look out for any potential trouble.
With a final wave, you climb into John's car along with Namjoon, Soyoon, San, and John himself, ready to return back to campus. The engine revs to life, and soon you’re turning the street corner, leaving the chaos of the frat party behind you. As the streetlights flicker past, you lean back in your seat, feeling a sense of relief and contentment wash over you. 
+++++++++++
“I’ll help take Y/N inside and then walk back home,” Namjoon tells John as he shuts the door of his car. “Alright, just text me when you make it back. Have a good night, guys.” John waves, exiting the parking lot in front of Hwasa’s dorm and disappearing in the distance. He dropped off Soyoon and San at their dorms across campus, so he is just headed back to his off-campus apartment. Before you swipe Hwasa’s student ID to enter her dorm, you suddenly feel your stomach churn with nausea. Maybe it was the ride back that made you queasy, or the fact that the only contents in your stomach were alcohol. Without warning, the urge to vomit hits you like a tidal wave, and you bolt towards a nearby bush, clutching your stomach in distress. Namjoon's eyebrows furrow in concern as he watches you rush away. He quickly follows, his footsteps echoing against the pavement as he reaches your side. Without hesitation, he holds your hair up to prevent the puke from sticking to it accidently.
You continue to retch, emptying the contents of your stomach into the bush, Namjoon stays by your side, offering silent support and comfort. His reassuring presence helps to calm your racing heartbeat, grounding you amid your discomfort.
“I-I…really hate throwing up so much,” you admit between gasps, your voice trembling with embarrassment.
“I know,” Namjoon replies softly, his tone understanding. “You should’ve been more cautious.”
You nod weakly, acknowledging his words even as you struggle to regain your composure.
“I know that,” you murmur, pushing yourself upright and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “But I was upset...sad…needed something to take my mind off of the stuff with Yoongi and Jimin.” You swipe access and enter the building together.
“Yeah, how did all of that happen?”
“Well, it’s a long story…”
And you proceed to tell him everything that happened, from the night you first had sex with Yoongi all up until the fight that Jimin initiated at Friday Night Game Night two weeks ago. While you told him the story, you got changed, brushed your teeth, and drank some water to rehydrate you after the vomiting. He sat on your bed, watching you do each task and listening to you carefully. 
Once you’ve completed your routine, you join Namjoon on the bed, sinking into the soft mattress beside him.
“I think the answer is obvious, but we made that pact because we’ve been in love with you for a long time,” Namjoon begins, his voice soft as he gazes up at the twinkling string lights that adorn the room. “Sometime during junior year, we were at Yoongi’s house and just started talking about our feelings and didn’t know what to do.” He lays back against your pillows, sighing. “We didn’t want to ruin our friendship with you and we also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Namjoon continues, his tone tinged with regret. “We didn’t think you’d like us back because you were occupied with other guys on your mind back then. So, at that time, we decided to agree that neither of us would pursue you and move on.”
“Except that Yoongi decided to say fuck it,” you interject with a wry smile, remembering the impulsive decision that changed everything.
Namjoon chuckles softly, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, we had tried to move on, though Yoongi probably couldn’t let you go, so he went for it. Can’t believe he did that, but I would’ve done the same if I were in his shoes.”
He turns to you, his expression earnest as he asks, "So, what are you going to do, Tiny? How are you planning to reconcile your friendship with them?"
You pause, feeling stress settle heavily on your shoulders once again. It’s a dilemma you’ve grappled with countless times, each solution more elusive than the last. "I still don't know," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "In an ideal world, I'd love to be with you and them, but is that even possible?"
Namjoon's eyes soften with understanding as he listens to your concerns. "That’s a thing, you know," he suggests tentatively. “It’s called being in a polycule together."
You gasp, the concept both surprising and intriguing. "A polycule?" you repeat, your mind racing with possibilities. "Do you think...could that really work?"
Namjoon nods thoughtfully, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. "Maybe," he replies, his voice tinged with cautious optimism. "It's definitely something worth considering, but we'd all have to think about it more and talk it through together."
A polycule. You can’t deny how much you’d be down for the idea. The thought of being in a loving, supportive relationship with Namjoon, Jimin, and Yoongi is undeniably appealing. However, there are other things to consider, like the future of the relationship and how you could ever present this to your own families. No doubt your parents would get a heart attack. But maybe, you’d figure out how to make this work. You don’t have to publicly get married, maybe you could just frame it as being single forever with your other single best friends. It’d be like that article about the seven Chinese girlfriends buying a mansion to retire and die together. 
You move to straddle Namjoon’s lap excitedly, “I want to try that,” 
Namjoon's expression shifts from contemplative to surprised as you straddle his lap, the sudden change in proximity catching him off guard. He blinks, momentarily taken aback by your boldness, before a soft smile spreads across his lips.
You look at his beautiful deep brown dragon eyes, always so mesmerizing.Your heart flutters at the sight, reassured by the warmth in his gaze. You're acutely aware of the intimate closeness between you, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of your clothes, igniting a flicker of desire deep within you.
For a moment, Namjoon doesn’t respond. He’s caught off guard, thinking about how cute you look being on top of him like this. When he doesn’t respond right away, you give him a puzzled look.
"You're only wearing underwear under your oversized Pokémon t-shirt?" He teases, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Huh?” Your cheeks redden, “Y-You could tell?”
“Yeah.” 
Your heart skips a beat as Namjoon's hand brushes against your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. His touch is gentle yet electrifying.
Before you can fully comprehend what's happening, Namjoon pulls you down, your lips meet his in a kiss full of need and desire.
As your lips meld together in a tender embrace, the kiss deepens, becoming more passionate and intense. You feel the gentle pressure of Namjoon's lips parting, inviting you into his mouth. With a soft whimper of desire, you accept the invitation, allowing your tongue to dance against his.
He starts undressing you, from your t-shirt to your panties, eager to finally have you after all this time. Once you’re naked, you pull yourself back up and let him bask in the view of you. He’s awestruck by the sight of your perky breasts.
He takes a moment to admire your curves, his eyes lingering on the way your rounded hips fit perfectly into your waist. He traces the line of your belly button with his fingertips, marveling at the way your skin feels under his touch.
You watch him, enjoying the way he looks at you, and suddenly you're desperate for more. You reach down and cupping his face, pulling his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss.
Your fingers trail down his arms, tracing the muscles beneath his shirt, as his hands slide up your sides, grazing your ribs before moving up to cup your breasts. His touch feels divine, his fingers gently tugging at your nipples, sending shivers down your spine.
His lips travel down your neck, leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses as he goes. You can't help but moan softly, your head falling back in pleasure. He runs his tongue over the swell of your collarbone, and then moves downward, his lips leaving a hot, wet trail as he goes. He sucks gently on your nipples, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin.
You arch your back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your body. You feel his hands slide down your belly, the warmth of his fingers tracing circles on your skin. He kisses his way down your stomach, his lips leaving warm, wet kisses in a trail that leads to your hips.
You can feel the anticipation building up inside you. Your breath catches in your throat as he reaches the top of your thighs, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin. You're not sure what he's going to do next, and that's part of the thrill.
He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire. He moves to remove his sweatpants, his shirt, and finally his boxer briefs.
You watch him, your eyes widening as he stands before you, completely naked. It's the first time you've seen him without clothes, and it's a sight that takes your breath away. He's been your best friend for so long, and now here he is, vulnerable and exposed in front of you.
His erection sticks up prominently, a testament to his arousal. He's bigger than you expected, and the sight of it makes your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.
Before you can think about it, you reach out and touch him, tentatively wrapping your fingers around his shaft. It feels warm and hard in your hand, and you can't help but marvel at how it's throbbing beneath your touch.
He moans softly, and you can tell that he's enjoying your touch. You run your thumb over the head of his penis, feeling the slit that moistens with pre-cum. It's an intimate moment, and you can’t believe this is the first time you’re able to touch him this way.
You stroke him gently, feeling his muscles tense and relax as you do. His hips move subtly, as though he's enjoying your touch. You're grateful for his trust in you, and for the connection that's brought you to this moment.
As you continue to stroke him, you feel his hand on your thigh, gently running his fingers up and down your leg. It's a small gesture, but it means the world to you. It's a sign that he's not only comfortable with where this is going, but that he's also enjoying himself.
He leans in close, his lips brushing against his ear. "I'm so glad we're doing this," he whispers. "I've wanted this for so long,
“And I'm so glad you're here with me."
You can't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. This wasn't just about having sex with Namjoon, but the long, slow burning affection you and Namjoon have likely had for one another. You nod, your cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and affection.
He smiles warmly at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. "I know you're nervous, but don't worry," he reassures you. "We'll take it slow."
You nod, swallowing hard as you take a deep breath. This moment feels like something you've been dreaming about for years, and you're both nervous and excited all at once.
Namjoon's fingers trail up your inner thigh, and you can't help but moan softly as his touch sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. You reach down, and tentatively guide his hand towards your now soaked core, your legs parting slightly to allow him access.
He gently slides his fingers between your labia, feeling the dampness and heat that awaits him. You gasp as his fingers brush against your clitoris, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.
"Is this okay?" He murmurs, his voice low and filled with concern. You nod, unable to speak past the desire now coursing through you. “Words, please baby girl.”
The nickname immediately catches you offguard but you don’t comment on it. Your horniness yet again clouding your ability to question things.
“Y-Yes!”
With this confirmation, his fingers slide inside you, two, then three, stretching you gently as he explores your depths. You can't help but moan loudly, your body arching into his touch.
"You feel so amazing inside," he whispers, his fingers moving in and out of you in a steady rhythm. You can't help but thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more.
He leans down and kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers continue to thrust inside of you. Your body is alive with sensation, every touch, every kiss, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through you.
As he continues to fuck you with his fingers, you can feel your orgasm building. It starts as a gentle tingle, then grows into a throbbing need that courses through your entire body.
"I'm going to come," you gasp, your voice shaking with desire. Namjoon grins, his eyes shining with need as he increases the pace of his fingers, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles.
"That's it, baby girl. Cum for me," he urges, his voice low and filled with lust.
Every thrust of his fingers and every circle of his thumb brings you closer to the edge, until finally, you can't take it anymore. The band unwinds and you start to squirm in place.
You lay there, breathing heavily, waiting for the high to go down. You feel somewhat embarassed that he just did this to you and saw you come. You can’t help but want him more of his touch. You want him inside you.
"Namjoon," you breathe, your voice rough with desire. "I want you to be inside me."
His eyes flash with desire, and he pulls his fingers out of you with a soft pop. He moves towards the bed, his erection leading the way.
"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice deep and filled with anticipation.
You nod, your heart racing as you watch him position himself at your entrance. You can feel his knees between your legs, and the heat of his body presses against yours.
"You can do it without the condom, I’m on BC." you whisper, your voice shaking with nerves and desire. “I-I’m ready.”
With one smooth motion, Namjoon pushes himself inside you. You gasp at the sensation. Holy fuck, he’s huge. Can you really fit him in you? You’ve never experienced someone this big. Namjoon senses your discomfort and is about to ask if he should stop, however, you wave him off.
“Please keep going, Joon.” Your body clenches around his erection as he continues, filling you completely to the brim.
"Fuck," he mutters, his eyes locked on yours. "This feels better than I imagined."
He places his hand right below your stomach, and you can see the switch in his demeanor become darker. He smirks at you. “I can even feel myself right here”
“H-Holy shit,” These are the only words you can let out as he starts to further dominate you.
“I’m going to start moving, okay baby?”
“Mhm.” Just nodding in agreement, you brace yourself for what is about to come. Namjoon's eyes never leave yours as he begins to move inside of you, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first before growing more forceful with each passing second. You cry out with each stroke, your nails digging into his back as he fills you completely.
Your hips start meeting his movements, your body craving the sensation of him inside of you. You moan loudly, your body arching into his touch.
His cock slides in and out of you, each thrust bringing a new wave of pleasure that leaves you breathless. You reach up, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continues to fuck you.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he growls, his voice filled with lust. "You're so tight."
As he plunges deeper into you, he leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue dances with yours, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks you harder and faster. You don’t want it to end, but you can feel the building tension within you again, the waves of pleasure threatening to overflow.
Every thrust brings you closer to the edge, and you know that you're not far from coming again. You arch your back, your hips moving in time with his thrusts.
"I'm going to cum," you gasp, your voice shaking with need. Namjoon groans, his eyes locked.
"Then cum for me, baby girl," he growls, his voice deep and filled with lust. He thrusts harder and faster into you, his body bucking against yours as he drives himself deeper into you.
Every thrust of his hips sends another wave of pleasure coursing through you. Your body is alive with sensation, every touch, every kiss, every thrust sending you higher and higher.
You can feel your orgasm building, pulsing through your core, and you know that this time it will be even more intense than before. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alive with desire, and you can feel your climax reaching its peak.
"That's it," Namjoon mutters, his voice ragged with desire. "Cum for me, baby girl. Let me feel you come on my dick."
The words send you over the edge, and you scream his name as you come, your body convulsing around his dick.
"F-Fuck!" you scream, your voice echoing through the room. "Joonie!"
He feels your muscles clenching around him, and he knows that he can’t hold on much longer. He slams into you one last time, his own release building to a shuddering climax inside you.
"I'm cumming," he groans, his voice hoarse with passion. "Fuck, I'm cumming!"
As you both reach the peak of your orgasms, your bodies are shaking with the intensity of the pleasure. Breathing heavily. Sweating tremendously from the heat. Your nerves feel alive, and the overwhelming desire for him grows stronger. 
As the waves of aftershocks subsided, he pulls out of you gently, his cock glistening with your wetness. He breathes heavily, his eyes filled with laughter as he helps you clean up. It has been quite the experience, and you both know that this will probably become a regular part of your love life.
After cleaning up, he helps you into bed, spooning you from behind. You can feel that he was still hard under the sheets, and you giggle at his persistence.
"Joonie, you're still hard," you whisper, a smile on your face.
"I know, but I don't want to cum again just yet," he replies, his voice low and filled with desire. "I want to hold you like this for a while." He caresses your cheek gently.
You snuggle into his arms, your heart full of love for him. You drift off to sleep for a bit, before you wake up again wanting to do it again. This time, spending time pleasuring him. You suck his dick and deepthroat it, despite his worries. 
With this event, you know that your life will never be the same again. Namjoon has forever changed you, as well as Yoongi and Jimin and you couldn't be more grateful.
All that is left is figuring if you can make the polycule idea a reality.
Would it be insane if you’d try it? If you helped initiate the virginity race, then you could do this too. +++++++++++ [Extra POV]
Meanwhile, inside the house, chaos slowly dissipates as Soobin and Taehyun rush to tend to Yeonjun's bloody nose on the floor. Jungkook, guilt-ridden, is apologizing profusely for his friend's actions, his words tumbling out in a rush of remorse.
Beomgyu and Hueningkai, Yeonjun’s other close frat brothers, arrive on the scene. Beomgyu's laughter ringing through the air as he chides Yeonjun for his reckless behavior. 
"Man, you're lucky Namjoon didn't knock you into next week!" he jokes, though there's an edge of concern in his voice. “Can’t believe you thought it was fine to go up against a guy three times bigger than you!”
“Beomgyu, shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear it.” Yeonjun groans as he holds a crumpled tissue paper to his nose waiting for the bleeding to stop.
Hueningkai turns to Jungkook, Taehyung and Hoseok, sighing, "Guys, your friend Namjoon needs to get out of here soon before the cops decide to show up from the commotion," he says, his tone urgent.
Hoseok nods in agreement. "He'll be out soon," he assures them. “They’re outside talking it out. If they don’t wrap it up in 15 minutes, I’m dragging his ass to John’s car or Jungkook’s.” 
“Yoooo, what the hell happened?” Soyoon chimes in with John and San trailing behind her. She looks at the sight in the living room all confused.
“The guy on the floor is Honey’s ex and Namjoon fought him because he was being an ass.” Jungkook summarizes, make the three nod in understanding.
“God, can you all shut up and stop talking about–” Yeonjun winces in pain, making Soobin panic.
Taehyun, his patience wearing thin, scolds Yeonjun sternly. "Well, what did you think was going to happen?" he chastises. "Jungkook told me Namjoon is in the gym five times a week, and all you do is shotgun beers and chase tri delts."
Taehyung chuckles at the remark, unable to resist the humor in the situation. "Yeah, you might want to rethink your strategy next time, buddy," he quips, though there's an underlying seriousness to his tone.
“I wanted to be friends with Y/N again.” Yeonjun slurs, his lips pouting out. “Can I have another drink?”
“But you see where that got you!” Soobin intervenes. "And no!” He firmly denies Yeonjun's request for another drink. "You've had enough drinks for one night, Jjun.” 
Yeonjun grumbles in protest, but Soobin's resolve is unwavering. With a supportive arm, he helps Yeonjun stand up, steadying him as they both rise. "I think you should go to bed," Soobin suggests softly, his tone gentle yet firm. "We'll handle slowly dispersing people out and tell them to go to another party."
Yeonjun nods. Beomgyu and Hueningkai step forward to offer their assistance. Beomgyu slings an arm around Yeonjun's shoulders, offering him a supportive grip, while Hueningkai moves to steady him from the other side.
"Let's get you to bed, man," Beomgyu says with a sympathetic smile, his tone reassuring.
Yeonjun leans on them for support, grateful for their presence as they navigate through the crowd. 
But as he stumbled along with his friends' support, Yeonjun couldn't ignore the nagging feeling of regret gnawing at him. Maybe he shouldn't have been so hostile, towards you or Namjoon. It wasn't fair to you at all. It wasn’t why he wanted to talk to you anyways
He couldn't shake the guilt that washed over him as he thought about your past together. He'd acted out of jealousy and hurt, hoping to reclaim a piece of something that was long gone. But now, faced with the consequences of his actions, he realized how foolish he'd been.
With this, he’s closing the door forever.
All he wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep off the alcohol-induced haze.
-
-
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tbc !!!!! :D
a/n: 3 MORE CHAPTERS LEFT. we are getting closer and closer to the eventual polycule we might get... or not. this was probably the most exciting chapter to write because it was planned since LAST AUGUST. literally before any chapter of this series dropped. rae and i had been plotting the yeonjun v. namjoon fight since then and ironically yeonjun was in apartment 404 and filmed a fight scene. so thank me for manifesting yeonjun fighting lmao. it took me a little over a month to write because i had job interviews and rae was busy with life/school to edit as well so apologies on the delay, but it is here now. i will try to work on ch 10 and make sure it doesn't take to long, but i have to be job searching so it might take some time again. the goal is to finish this series before the anniversary in late august so we will see. would love to hear y'alls thoughts or theories on what will happen to our favorite quad and the rest of the house next chapter. thank you all for reading!
➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist! ➸ love u lately series masterlist
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demonicbaby666 · 9 months
Note
heya if u have the time could I request a jj x female bau member reader with hurt/comfort? I was thinking something along the lines of jj helping the reader bandage their own wounds. Thanks!
Bandages
One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists
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Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader
Genre: comfort/fluff
Words: 2k+
Warnings: mentions of neck wound, brief mentioning of blood
Summary: JJ helps you clean your wounds and looks after you after sustaining injuries in the field.
A/n: I hope this lives up to your expectations! It’s nothing too angsty and I tried to keep the mentions of blood and gore to a minimum and focus on the comfort side of stuff <3
The rain. It’s cold on your face. Raindrops roll down your cheeks, trickling down from your hair down to your chin. It’s refreshing, if not a little uncomfortable. It’s nice, though, to feel the roars of the sky fall upon your skin and coat it with a shimmer reflected only on the side of your face from the light inside.
Hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into a full chest, contrastingly warmer to your back, that is now soaking wet having collected each droplet of rain as though it were a rare coin worth millions.
“What are you doing out here?” JJ asks. Her hand rests over the cotton bandage sticking to your neck, “You can’t get this wet.”
Without meaning to, you flinch, then relax back into the body of the woman you know will always catch you.
“Hey,” you whisper your reply, turning in the warm embrace, making sure not to break away from it or tempt JJ to loosen her grip in any way. You’d never tire of looking into those azure eyes, feeling your feet tingle under their warm gaze. A gaze filled now with worry and wonder.
“Hey,” she scans you over quickly, not quick enough that you don’t notice, but you let it slip, “ready to come in?”
The rain begs you to stay with each pitter and each patter against concrete. You want to stay, yet it’s something else inside you that says no. It’s the feeling of knowing something that feels this good, in excess, can do more harm than not, like candy.
JJ hadn’t likely meant to instil this message or the sudden revelation you were having when simply asking whether you were ready to come back in. Nonetheless, she had, and it wasn’t unwelcome. JJ had a way of doing that, secretly, telepathically or unknowingly. She broke down walls you didn’t you had up, and you loved her for it.
“Yes,” you nod and offer a smile.
Her fingers intertwine between your own as she returns your smile with one of her own, and though it’s pitiful and lacks the energy of her usual smiles, you appreciate it.
She pulls the both of you into the warmth of the house, and you close your eyes for a few moments, feeling the blood in your veins warm up, and the goosebumps on your arms settle. When you open your eyes, you see JJ scanning your body again, spending extra time on your soaked bandages and healing wounds that didn’t require covering.
JJ’s headstrong, she always has been, she’d call it resilience, whereas some would say stubborn, but either way, you’d never minded it when it was so easy to see past it. With her looking you over, you know she wants to help, mainly because it had killed her to know she couldn’t prevent what had happened.
“They’re wet,” you point out, following her gaze, “Help me change them?”
To say she was beaming at the opportunity would be inaccurate, but her smile changes from sorrowful to hopeful. It feels more genuine, and your heart swells at the sight of it.
Since the attack happened, JJ watched you change with each passing day. She saw your smile fade and your energy level dissipate. So, to hear you wanted to take care of yourself, with her help or even for her benefit, is a victory.
“I’ll get the stuff,” she begins to walk away, stopping momentarily before turning back around with a sudden purpose and longing in her eyes, “I could help you shower before we change the dressings. Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable if we get all that dried blood and grub off you.”
She’s not wrong. A shower would help. It’s the fact you’d have to come face-to-face with the damage done that's prevented you from doing so. And for some reason, anything you should be doing to look after yourself seemed the worst thing imaginable.
You look at her, the word ‘no’ dancing on your lips, but seeing the hope in her eyes makes you feel like saying it would just about shatter your heart.
“A shower couldn’t hurt,” you run your hands through your wet wire-like hair, “I guess I need one…”
She chuckles, and it’s like hearing pure sunshine. The brush of bright yellow splattered across a blacked-out canvas. For the first time in days, you feel that the grin on your face is genuine. It’s something you want more and more of; it’s been bubbling under the surface for days - that feeling of hopelessness - and that laugh has saved you, provided you that droplet of hope that you can cling to.
You take her hand, and things seem that little bit brighter, that little bit easier, and you fall that little bit more in love with the woman pulling you upstairs.
Honey. It was one of the first things you noticed about JJ; she smelt like honey and vanilla. Luckily it was something that, despite a year of dating, had yet to change. It was three months into the relationship when you realised it was her hair that smelt like honey because of her shampoo and her body like vanilla because of her body wash. Body wash that she was now gently and ritualistically lathering all over your body.
There’s something innately intimate about showering with someone, especially when anything sexual did not enter that small steamy cubicle, when wandering hands only had the purpose of cleaning and when love-filled eyes only looked into one another with unspoken words of affection and encouragement.
JJ’s hands run through your hair, distributing honey-scented goodness through each lock, then return to massage your scalp. There was nothing you could do to prevent yourself from closing your eyes and falling back into her for the second time that night. Hot water streams down the front of your body as the smell of JJ engulfs you, and you let her surround you, contently humming.
“You okay, baby?” JJ asks, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Mmm hmm.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She laughs, and god, that laugh. The piping-hot water pales compared to the sheer heat that radiates and coats your body when you hear that laugh.
After the shower, JJ walks you to the bed, insisting you get into your pyjamas and lay comfortably in bed. Once convinced, she makes her way back to the bathroom, and you listen, whilst changing, to her gathering the needed bits and bobs.
When she returns, you bite your bottom lip, trying not to laugh. Instead, you smile in awe as JJ walks towards you, trying to carry a whole hospital's worth of medical supplies. You dare not say anything because, after all, it’s JJ, and you know she wants nothing more than to be thorough.
She holds the disinfectant spray in her hand as though she is scared of it, and she thinks she's doing an excellent job of masking her hesitance. To her credit, she probably is. It's only that you've known her so long you can notice her moving ever so slightly slower and gripping into the bottle tight enough for a while tinge to appear over her knuckles.
“Ready?” the question, you have a feeling, isn't only aimed your way. Nevertheless, you nod along with her, and she studies her hand.
“Ready.”
JJ sits beside you on the edge of the bed and starts removing your gauze bandages, prioritising the one on your neck. It’s unmistakable. She looks at the wound, battling her own intuition knowing what will happen. She looks anyway, her eyes sadden, and her shoulders slump.
“It wasn’t your fault,” you tell her, placing your water-wrinkled hand atop hers, “It could have been any of us.”
“But it was you,” tears start to form in her eyes. She continues, “And I couldn’t protect you.”
Her tears seconds ago were born of sadness, yet now with her jaw clenched and her hand balled into a fist, it is evident sadness is no longer the predominant emotion.
“I should have been faster; I should have figured things out quicker; I should have-”
You cut her off, and she thanks you as her body relaxes into the sudden but welcome kiss. After you're sure her tears are dried, and her jaw is relaxed, you finish the kiss with one final peck and sigh against her lips.
“I'm okay now, and that's what matters,” you lean your furrowed forehead to JJ’s, “you found me. You saved me, JJ.”
“I’m supposed to be the one looking after you, and here you are trying to make me feel better.” she sniffles as she finally smiles again. It's a welcome sight.
You bring your hands to her tear-stained cheeks, taking your time to admire - despite having just been crying - how beautiful she is. When she sniffles again and shoots you a curious look, your heart swells, and your head drops to the side in awe.
“We take care of each other,” and by no means did JJ make looking after her an easy task, but you took the challenge every time, “and we always will.”
Prying one hand away from her face, you wriggle your pinky in front of her. She rolls her eyes but smiles, lets out an amused huff of air from her nose, and then somewhat playfully grapples onto your finger with her own.
“Always,” she says with sureness in her eyes and a sudden straightening of her spine before kissing your forehead. Her gaze lowers back to your neck, “let's finally change these.”
The hesitance previously displayed was nowhere to be seen. Now JJ moved with confidence and a kind of expertise. She pulls the gauze plaster entirely off your neck, rubbing away any leftover tacky bits left from the glue; they seem to bother her more than they bother you as she starts waging war on them, trying and failing not to rub a little harder than necessary.
She then sprays the disinfectant around your stitches, cleaning the surrounding area. Only twice, the cotton pad brushed against your wound, causing you to grimace, but you smile the second you see JJ grimace along with you. The look on her face is priceless and causes both of you to burst out laughing.
“I love you,” you whisper once the laughter dies down, “thank you.”
She doesn’t respond immediately, and you worry, but you see why her attention is elsewhere. Her bottom lip is wedged between her teeth, and she’s squinting at the numbers on the plastic packaging in her hands.
“It's this way,” you try to show her how to open it, and it's funny because she could do this sort of thing with her eyes closed, yet she slaps your hand away and continues to read. It's endearing, really, that she wants to make sure she's doing everything by the book, but the air is beginning the irritate your wound, and if it's not covered in two seconds, you might just-
“There!” JJ proudly exclaims, peeling the plastic layers away and covering up your wound, “Oh, and I love you too, and you're welcome.”
She's happy. She's proud. And though you were close to ripping your stitches out, it seems unimportant because JJ’s taking care of you, and more importantly, she wants to. So, you push your impatience aside and close your eyes as she cleans your other wounds and redresses them with the utmost care, and by the time she’s finished, you feel yourself floating off the bed in a tranquil state.
JJ sneaks away to dispose of all the old bandages and scarlet-coated swabs. When she returns, she slips onto the bed behind you, slides her legs beside your thighs and wraps her arms around your waist. Her nose nuzzles into your hair, and though you don’t see, you feel her lips curl as she smells her shampoo in your wet hair. Closing your eyes, you settle back into her, brushing your cheeks to her forehead and breathing in honey, letting the scent calm and wash over your whole body.
“I could fall asleep like this.” You mumble into her hair.
“I don’t think my back would thank you for it if you do,” JJ banters, her warm breath tickling your neck and warming your cheeks with a crimson hue, “but I’d do it for you.”
Pulling yourself forward and turning in JJ’s arms, you place a feather-light kiss on her soft lips. She responds quickly, tightening her grip and pulling you closer so there is no remaining space between your two bodies. Her lips move languishingly but purposefully.
“Bed?” you breathlessly murmur over her lips.
“Bed.” she eagerly nods.
Tags: @aws-l @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @imlike-so-gaydude | click here to be added to my taglist
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callmelola111 · 11 months
Text
color me purple ♡ part two
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 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - soundtrack - - - - ♡
synopsis: it’s summer and you’re back at camp stillwater. as a counselor you mean serious business and you’ll do whatever it takes for your cabin to come out on top. the only thing in the way of that; ellie williams and her crazy antics. 
      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 3.3k
      | ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, some fluff but mostly angsty, HEAVY sexual themes on the verge of smut, swearing, slight mention of marijuana, ellie is kinda a perv, ellie calls foot fetishes weird so if u have one i'm sorry lol not trying to kink shame its just for the plot !!
a/n: happy wednesday y'all!! i was literally kicking my feet while writing this hehe. i love being a delulu lesbian on paper. also i've never played poker before so if i worded something wrong i am so sorry lolz. sending hugs and kisses 2 you all ♡~ lola
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Mrs. Campbell seemed taller this evening as she stood waiting to confront you with your fate. The moon shone brightly casting her long, mangled shadow across the dirt. As she spoke, your gaze remained locked to it, avoiding the disappointed look you knew was written all over her face. 
“What do you two think you’re doing?!?” she yelled. You struggled to form any words with the large lump consuming your throat. Your stomach would’ve dropped too but you were pretty sure you had lost it during your barefoot dash through the woods. Ellie stood next to you just as silent until your devastated face clued her into your current state. She quickly tried to rationalize, speaking for the both of you. 
“Mrs. Campbell, we're so, so sorry. Seriously, it was all my fault, please don’t blame Y/n!” You softened hearing Ellie so quickly take the fall. Feeling compelled to finally join this tense confrontation, you looked up from the ground. Your eye’s met with the wardens but they were filled with concern rather than fury as you had expected. Your injuries had alluded to a situation that she felt needed a bit more context.
“I’m just trying to figure out how you two ended up here bloody, wet, and 2 hours past curfew!” she said. With the guidance of Ellie you calmly explained the situation. Of course, it wasn’t the full truth. You took extra care to leave out the part about your little smoke sesh. And after what felt like hours of questioning and nagging, you and Ellie were given the benefit of the doubt, remaining counselors for the summer.
Mrs. Campbell gave her final say, “You girls better count your blessings. I’m feeling nice tonight. But, I can’t let your behavior go unpunished. Neither of you will be participating in tomorrow's first round of games. I'll take your campers under my wing while you two think about your behavior back at the cabins. Alone.” Tears welled in your eyes as you came to terms with the consequences of your actions. Ellie shifted her gaze to your heartbroken expression and the corners of her mouth turned down. Sure it was just one day of sitting out, but she knew how much the competition meant to you and felt like a total piece of shit for making you miss out. Even if it wasn’t completely her fault. 
“That’s final. Now both of you please go wash up and stop making me worry!” Mrs. Campbell concluded.
You and Ellie made the 5 minute walk to the showers in silence, still shaken up from the recent events. Despite the water’s icy temperatures, it felt nice to wash off the evidence of your night living on the wild side. However, Ellie showered one space over with little emotional relief, too consumed by you. She just stood idle as the sharp drops of H2O hit her back. Questioning how you felt about her, if you were mad, and what you were thinking but wouldn’t say.
She couldn’t take it anymore and quickly switched off the water, drying off with a rough gray towel. You followed in suit, stepping out wrapped in your pink towel. The textured fabric wrapped tightly over your breasts hoisting the mounds up to peak over the linen. They sat pretty like a Victorian woman in a tight corset. Ellie, now in a fresh pair of clothes, kept her head forward but eyed you from her peripherals before finally speaking.
“I’m so sorry… I don’t even know what to say. I never wanted to get you in trouble.” She looked absolutely miserable, so convinced you hated her. You’d never seen this side of Ellie before. A side that was real and vulnerable. You had always pinned her as this impenetrable tough guy, never seeming bothered by anything. And now here you were, bothering her. What was so special about you, why did she care?
“Ellie, I’m not mad at you, just a little sad. This was my choice as much as it was yours.”
Ellie turned to you, voice breaking, “Wait… really?” Part of her felt like an idiot for bringing it up now, considering it was all in her head, but you didn’t think twice about giving her the reassurance she seeked.
“Yes, really.” Ellie gave a timid smile slanting to one side and breathed a sigh of relief knowing that her assumptions were just a product of overthinking. 
“Now please, stop being so melodramatic and help me patch up all these stupid cuts.” You took a seat on the long bench placed in the tiled bathroom and Ellie followed like a humble servant. She got down on her knees like she owed it to you. Taking a wet cloth in her right hand and carefully cleaning your cuts one by one. Her touch was gentle, almost too much, but she didn't want to hurt you. You took pleasure in Ellie’s tender care and couldn’t help but wonder if she’s like this with all her friends. Even more, you questioned if it’s something you should be enjoying as much as you did. Ellie took her sweet time rinsing out the dirt from your wounds that you had acquired as an unwanted souvenir. Tending to your injuries gave her more time to study all of your nooks and crannies. Something she had only dreamed of. Ellie enjoyed every second until she reached your thighs, your gorgeous plush thighs. She observed as your pink towel bunched at the abdomen before splitting down the sides of your legs in a triangle-like formation. Mind hazy with desire, she couldn’t help but yearn for the other body parts under that towel that she wished to tend to. Ellie internally slapped herself for the heat that followed her nasty thoughts and her tour of your body was cut short. Following the clean, she took some Neosporin to smooth across the bigger gashes that covered your knees and elbow. You winced at the friction.
“It really got you good huh,” she teased, “maybe you can lie and say you got attacked by a bear or something.”
“No, not a bear,” your eyes rolling, “just Ellie Willaims and her antics.” 
“Oh shut up, you had fun.” You didn’t say anything back, just gave a smile, because you knew Ellie was right. As much as you wanted to be upset about how everything went down and how you were so easily influenced by her, you just couldn’t. Maybe because you knew she had no ill intent, or maybe you were beginning to realize that breaking rules wasn’t so bad- perhaps, it was even a little fun. 
You woke up early the next day with everyone else, despite your impromptu grounding. Although you yearned for sleep, the sun shone too bright and the girls chatter, too loud. You pulled the scratchy covers of your twin bed up, making it semi-nice for your next sleep. A sleep you looked forward to, as it signaled the end of this awful day. But, with the cabin overcome by girlish excitement it was hard to remain in such a sour mood. You ventured to the top of an empty but rickety bunk bed to observe the members of team red from above. It was like watching a village of little ants running around prepping for the day ahead. Some flew out the screen door to shower, a few braided each other's hair, and all of them finished dressed up in color coordinating outfits.
As 9:30 am approached, you wrapped up your finishing touches to the last few stragglers with silky hair ribbons and red face paint. By 9:40, the once bustling room was empty and the silence was loud. In an attempt to occupy your wandering mind you cracked open a Nancy Drew book, the 3rd in its series. The crisp pages slid between your fingers as the mystery consumed you, but it wasn't long before your peace was interrupted.
A peculiar knocking sound tore you from the novel opened in your hands. Setting it down on your green and pink bedding, you ventured to your dirty window to scope out the inexplicable noise. On the other side of the glass stood Ellie, like a kid, throwing rocks at your window. You stared out the gray panes that divided her in four, rolling your eyes at the audacity of it all. She continued her little performance pulling out a janky sign written in dried out blue marker. It read I'm bored… You pretend to be distraught at the news, playing into her little game. Ellie then flipped the sign over to show you the back where she had scribbled the words Do U wanna hangout? and then some idiotic smiley face to complete the message. Ellie’s own face mimicked the emoticon as she displayed all her teeth like a child on picture day. It was stupid and cheesy and it was kinda working.
The sign continued to waver in the wind as you consulted the imaginary angel and devil that lurked on your shoulders. You finally answered Ellie (whose arms were getting tired) through the window with a simple middle finger and yanked the curtains closed knowing you weren’t supposed to be leaving your living quarters that day. And although you maintained a tough exterior for the sake of the bit, you felt just a little bit giddy being invited over by Ellie. That same giddiness nagged at your morals until finally you sided with the devil. Besides, everyone will be gone and too busy to catch you guys slacking off.
You rushed to the sink to brush your teeth aggressively and then changed into a red cropped shirt with a wide neck and black biker shorts that sculpted your ass perfectly. You weren’t sure why, but you had this sudden need to impress her. Her opinion now carried a weight that was foreign to you. That weight then influenced a smear of the same cherry flavored lip gloss from the night before, remembering Ellie’s thoughts on it. You slipped the tube into your bra just in case and then skipped over like the girl next door.
Ellie opened up with a smirk. Her hair was messy and despite waking up hours ago her lounge wear remained on. You didn’t mind though. Something about her toned body in a black wifebeater tank and gray sweats made you excited. 
“Well hello there.” She gestured for you to come inside. You sat in the middle of the room on an old, sage green rug. Anticipating Ellie’s next move, you pulled your scuffed up knees to your chest. She plopped down next to you and began to poke.
“I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show up.” 
You scoffed, “I mean, I hate you Ellie, but not that much.” You straightened out your right knee and gave her a little kick in the shin.
“Shut up dude. I know you love me.” Ellie nudged your shoulder and you gave a simple chuckle in response, but inside you were questioning the past feelings of distaste you once harbored for her and the new ones that replaced them. You needed a distraction.
“Sooo.. how are you gonna entertain me??” Your question sent Ellie’s mind to all kinds of places, some dirty most dirty.
“Oh? So you wanna be entertained? How about a little game of poker?”
“Poker?” you said, becoming suspicious of Ellie's seemingly normal answer but the tone of her voice was a dead giveaway to the mischievous plans.
“Well… not just any poker. I play a little differently.” You urged her to continue.
“Like different how?”
“Ever heard of strip poker?” she questioned, scrunching her freckled nose in anticipation of your response. She wouldn’t think twice about indulging in this game with other friends but it was something about you and the unspoken homoerotic nature of your relationship that made the request much more daunting.
“Oh my god Ellie,” you gave a long sigh, “Do you really wanna see me naked that bad?” Usually her face would go bright red at a comment like this but today she was prepared for your little quips, having taken the leap to propose such a game in the first place.
“No. I wanna watch you lose.” she stated bluntly. And with her words, a jolt of that familiar cutthroat attitude surged through your body along with a little arousal that you ignored, pretending it was just adrenaline. 
“Oh you’re on.” you spat. What had Ellie Williams done to you? Just days ago you would have opposed such a scenario like sneaking over to play strip poker but her dangerously seeming presence was exhilarating to you. She was a drug you just couldn’t quit. And before you could even think twice, that drug was pulling out her playing cards and popping a mixtape ← into her old cassette player.
You grew quiet and the music grew loud as you anxiously waited for Ellie to shuffle the deck. She had a classic one with the red patterned backings. The cards slotted into each other as Ellie thumbed the split stack from bottom to top. It made a satisfying noise that repeated a few more times before she dealt them out between the two of you.
The rules were simple, each chip signified an article of clothing, whoever had the worst hand lost a chip and a little bit of dignity along with it. A stack of 4 old poker chips sat in front of you balancing on the ridges of the rug. 1 for your shirt, 1 for your shorts, and 2 for each sock. Ellie had the same. You could practically feel the sweat gathering on your brow as the game began. The first round was close, Ellie with a straight and you with 3 of a kind.
She quickly snatched up one of your chips before saying, “You lose!!” 
“This is just the first round, don’t get used to it.” you replied, peeling off your left sock. Quickly you placed your other foot on top of the now bare one, hiding it from Ellie like it was something to be embarrassed of. She took note of your behavior and clarified her intentions.
“You know, I don’t have a weirdo foot fetish if that's what you’re thinking.”
“Oh my god. Shut. Up. I don’t think that, I just don’t want you looking at my feet.” You turned your face away from her, putting your hand up theatrically. Your embarrassment amused Ellie.
“Just wait till you have to take your top off.” 
“That won’t be necessary.” You tried seeming confident in your reply but your face felt hot and your hands were clammy. You didn’t want to imagine being so exposed in front of Ellie. What if she doesn’t like it? Why did it matter if she did?
“Right, we’ll see how that goes…” Ellie’s voice trailed off, letting go of your stubborn ramblings. The game continued as so; round 2: you won, round 3: you won again, round 4: Ellie won. At this point there were no more socks to take off. Your stomach twisted and turned thinking of the next possibilities. Part of you wanted to give up and take off but the other part of you wanted to stay around and see what Ellie looked like without a shirt. This confused you.
During round 5 you could hardly focus, but luck was on your side when all Ellie could present was a pair against your straight, leaving you a winner. Without a second thought she crossed her arms grabbing at the hem of her tank. Her biceps flexed with motion as she pulled it over her head revealing a black sports bra. You stared unintentionally, mouth agape.
“Like what ya see?” Ellie remarked. Your cheeks flushed red and your head shot down into your lap like a reflex. 
“Relax, we’re just friends having fun. You can look.” she continued. Right… friends. You took a deep breath in trying to calm yourself. There was still more of the game to play and a craving for victory that lingered.
The next round was brutal leaving you with a measly high card, the worst hand you could get. Before Ellie even revealed her hand, your mind was at war deciding if you should remove your pants or shirt first. This felt like so much more than a simple game of cards with a friend. I mean here you were in front of half-naked Ellie, questioning if she was more of an ass girl or if she liked tits better. After your losing cards were revealed you took a pause, twirling a stray thread around your finger that you had pulled off the rug. Just as you were settling on pants Ellie interrupted.
“If- If you dont wanna, you don’t have to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” Ellie was starting to feel guilty for roping you into her games. For her, this wasn’t about winning, it was about pleasure and that's what made her feel so bad. You were here to play poker and Ellie was just waiting to see what panties you wore that day. Such a perv. 
“NO,” your voice raised, halting Ellie’s skewed thoughts like your life depended on it. “I want to.” You stood up slowly trying to steady your shaky hands. Gently, your long fingers rimmed around the waistband of the shorts. Ellie sat criss-cross looking up at you like a god. The black spandex peeled off your wide hips and down your thighs at an agonizingly slow pace for Ellie. Finally reaching your knees they fell the rest of the way down, pooling at your ankles. The cool air tickled your pantie-clad privates, sending you back down to the warm spot you left on the floor.
Ellie couldn’t even speak. It was like a wet dream seeing you dressed in nothing but a crop top and some lacey, pink underwear. The heat between her legs was almost unbearable and she could feel as her slick seeped straight through the plaid boxers hidden under her sweats. Too busy with her downstairs, she failed to give you any sort of sign that would hint to the pleasure your body was giving her. You felt stupid for even wanting that from her and flipped to lay on your stomach trying to hide your nakedness. Without Ellie’s approval or encouragement you felt ashamed.
Wanting this moment of awkwardness to pass, you reached for more cards to continue to the next round. Ellie grabbed the deck before you could even reach it.
“Actually uh- we should just stop.” she said, not even able to make eye contact from how overwhelmed she was with lust. Of course, you didn’t know this and a downward spiral of thoughts began. Have you done something? Said something? What happened?
You stuttered out a “Wha- why?” Ellie continued staring down at her crotch. Her stupid crotch- that was the reason why. She knew that if she lost the next round, her sweatpants that shielded her from embarrassment would have to be removed. The large and growing wet spot of your doing was something Ellie refused to let you see. She assumed that if you were to ever discover the amount of arousal a friendly game of poker caused, you’d be disgusted and never speak to her again. 
“I just- I think you need to leave.” You blinked hard and fast, trying to swallow back any tears being provoked by Ellie’s response.
“So… I’m that ugly, huh?” you said, voice now shaking. You felt humiliated.
“No, no!! It’s not th-” 
“Save it Ellie,” you yelled, tears beginning to run down your cheeks. “This is the last time I let you make me out to be some loser idiot who falls for all your tricks! I am not ending up like all those stupid girls who you’ve fucked over!” You kicked open the swinging door taking one look back at Ellie. Her face was dumbfounded, confused, hurt. What were you saying? What was all that supposed to mean? She thought of chasing after you but knew it would be no use. You were too stubborn and upset to be talked to by Ellie, and it was quite clear that neither of you had realized what this game had meant to the other.
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 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡
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taglist...
@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss
(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)
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399 notes · View notes
nervousgardenerkid · 2 years
Note
HELLO ITS ME AGAIN THE SELECTIVE MUTISM ANON I WAS WONDERING IF U COULD DO SMTH SIMILAR BUT WITH STEVE AND MAKE IT ANGSTY >:DD
so sorry for dropping this one you so suddenly and straight after the new one, it just came to me haha
also ty for doing the eddie x reader it really helped <333
a/n: ANON IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE BUT BETWEEN WORK AND SCHOOL IVE BEEN SO TIRED😭😭i hope you like this! credit to the gif owner! <3
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You're sitting in your lunch spot frozen as milk drips from the ends of your hair, the whole cafeteria is silent before erupting into laughter.
“Oops!” Carol says with venom laced in her voice. “Sorry, I'm such a klutz.”
You don’t respond to her and wipe milk away from your eyes. Your lack of response causes Tommy to slam his lunch tray on the table.
“She said sorry, aren't you going to forgive her?”
You shake your head knowing you don't have it in you to speak right now. Your heart is pounding out of your chest and you really wish some of your friends were here right now. Tommy let out an obnoxious laugh.
“Look at you! You can't even talk!” More students began to laugh while some looked at you in pity.
“Hello?? Anyone there? We're talking to you!” Carol said while poking your shoulder. Tears were streaming down your face and you were starting to feel lightheaded from the rapid breathing you were doing. Before you know it a jean jacket was thrown around you and you were dragged out of the cafeteria while students started to scream and cheer. You didn't have time to register what was going on but you get some sort of relief when you realized Robin was pulling you into the girl's restroom.
“Those fucking assholes, I swear to god I'll beat them up myself next time I see them.” She has you lean against a wall and turns to grab some napkins but you latch onto her hand. She looks at you and feels her heartbreak when she sees your eyes pleading her not to leave.
“Hey, it's okay. I'm just gonna grab you some napkins and clean you off okay? I have extra clothes in my bag for our sleepover today.”
You slowly let go of her and look down at her bag. You forgot all about the sleepover and you're scared to tell her that you no longer plan on spending the night after today’s events.
“It's okay, don't even worry about it. We can always do it another night! Go ahead and change whenever you're ready.” she says quietly while wiping dried-up milk off of your face. Once she's done with that she reaches into her bag and hands you some clothes. You nod your head slightly giving her a silent thank you before you go into the stall and change. You look down at your clothes and notice only your shirt is wet so you figured you can wrap the milk-soaked shirt in the pair of sleep shorts robin packed for you. You tried your best to take deep breaths and calm down but when you hear the door slam open your breathing picks up again. What if Carol came to tease you some more? You know Robin wouldn't let her but she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty.
“Where is she?”
Relief flooded your system as you recognized Steve's voice. You poked your head out of the stall and saw his back facing you, his hair is messed up and the only thing you think of is how hard Steve works on his hair. He turns around at the sound of the stall door creaking and lets out a sigh of relief. You gasp at the sight of him.
Steve had a busted lip and a bruise starting to form around his eye, you look down at his hands and see them bloody and bruised.
“Hey, don't worry about me,” he whispered while rushing to you and wrapping you in his arms. “They aren't going to bother you anymore, okay?”
You nodded your head. He grabs the clothes that are sitting in your hand and shoves them in his bag while grabbing yours from off the floor.
“Thanks for taking her out of there Robin,” he says while gently placing your hand in his.
Robin says it's not a problem and gives you a tight hug knowing those calm you down. Steve walks out of the girl’s restroom with you glaring at Tommy on the way out. Tommy had multiple tissues held to his nose and had a dark-colored bruise resting on his cheekbone, he flipped Steve off mumbling how he misses his old friend but Steve doesn't care.
He opens the passenger door for you making sure all limbs are in before he closes the door. He slides into the diver's side and reaches in the backseat handing you a notebook and pen.
“What happened, baby?”
Your brain replays what happened minutes ago and you shake your head trying to erase the thoughts, you don't want to think about it, not right now.
Is your hand okay?
Steve reads your question out loud to himself and chuckles.
“Don't worry about me. I'll be okay.”
You didn't have to fight him. I know you guys are like best friends.
“No, you're my best friend. I can't believe I hung out with people like them.” he starts to get lost in his thoughts when he feels you tap him with the pen.
Can we go home? I want to wash the milk out of my hair.
Steve felt his heart warm. He knows you mean he can take you to his house but the fact that you consider it home brings a smile to his face. He starts up the car and looks over at you.
“Are you ready to talk yet?”
You shake your head slowly hoping he wouldn't be upset at your answer. You know it could be frustrating when you suddenly go silent, as you've been told time and time again. Steve grabs your hand and places a gentle kiss on it, ignoring the small sting from the cut on his lip.
“That's okay, take all the time you need. I'll be here when you're ready.”
475 notes · View notes
thomasschabot · 1 year
Text
here comes your man
elias pettersson x director!fem!reader
great loves come around only once in a lifetime, and if you’re lucky enough they come back
word count: 3.6k
warnings: cursing, light allusion to sexual activity, alcohol consumption
a/n: this is my piece for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten in @antoineroussel’s winter fic exchange!! i hope you like it andi, i had a blast creating this angsty little world that eventually gets wrapped up with a hopeful little bow 🤍 as always, a million hugs and kisses go out to demi for organizing another majorly successful event!!!! props to @matthewtkachuk​ i guess for proofreading 0.5 seconds before i posted (love u b xx)
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⭑⭒⭑
He’s impossible to forget, no matter how much you want to.
Elias Pettersson was the love of your life from the moment you laid eyes on him. It was a normal day, filled with redoing shots and redoing their blocking over and over because athletes are notoriously horrible listeners, until he came in and rocked your world as soon as he stepped in front of the camera to introduce herself. All kind eyes and confident smirks, Elias shook your hand and invited you to get drinks after finishing up so the pair of you could get to know each other better, seeing as you’ll also be following up north in a few weeks to shoot another promotional piece. The night had ended well into the morning, and you were inseparable from that moment on. Everyone around you was pleasantly surprised, knowing how much it took for you to let people in, but something about Elias just made you feel safe.
Things progressed quickly, but naturally, and eventually you moved in with him because his salary allowed for a much more prolific and comfortable lifestyle. You fit together naturally, like two sides of the same coin, and you loved him with every fibre of your being. Elias reciprocated, protecting you fiercely from overbearing Canucks fans and doing everything he could to show just how much he cared. Moments where hockey didn’t take precedence were rare, but he made them so special every single one was impossible to forget. Brock and Nils did their best to keep teasing from the team and other family members to a minimum but neither of you minded much — you were so in sync and had each other to get through whatever was going to get thrown at you.
Everything changed after the Canucks failed to make the playoffs for three consecutive years, though you understood why to a point. While the situation had been hard on you, watching him dissolve into a frustrated mess, it was excruciating on Elias — after all, he was the face of a rapidly sinking franchise. You did all you could to support him through the ups and down, taking time off work when he needed extra care and making sure he didn’t do anything that could cause too much stress and decrease the value of his sparse point production. Elias wasn’t shy about letting you know much he wanted to be back on top, picking fights when you would return from all-day shoots and giving you the cold shoulder for days when he returned from lost road trips. Despite his pain and hostility, you thought the pair of you were working through the issues, and you had been waiting for the perfect time to do the conventional and pop the question to your love.
The plan disintegrated after Elias left, crumbled like dust in the wind. You had been away on a promotional shoot with the rest of the team to hopefully quell discontented fans, with only him and a handful of Canucks staying in Vancouver to focus on recovering fully from their injuries before scattering to every corner of the world. No one had alerted you to his strange behavior, his recession into himself  — whether it had been intentional or not you’re still not sure. When you entered the condo upon your return to the city there was nothing but silence and darkness instead of Elias’s laughter and excitement bouncing off the walls. He didn’t leave a note — just packed a bag and left. You tried to call him, but the number was out of service, and no one in his family responded to your panicked messages in haphazard Swedish. Elias’s close friends in Vancouver provided no details, and you were forced to live in a paid-off unit that used to belong to the one solid person in your life but now belongs to you. You assume he came back to the city at the start of the season, but you begged for a transfer to another department and no longer work on the sports media side of the firm, so you’ve got no way to be sure since you vowed to never engage in hockey again.
Time certainly hasn’t made it easier, despite your friends endearing statistics to prove the common saying, and you spend hours every day reliving what you once had. He’s everywhere — travel mug in your office from when he used to slip away from training to eat lunch with you and the commercials you did with him over the years replaying on television so you can never escape him and the love you’ve lost. He’s still in the apartment you once shared, trinkets and books and clothes left for you to pack up and donate. Elias Pettersson made it difficult for you to move on, no matter how desperately you want to.
⭒⭑⭒
“I call dibs on the left side!” Elias shouts, pushing past you and running full speed into the hotel room. It’s All-Star Weekend, and you’ve joined your boyfriend in sunny Southern California, ready to soak up some rays when not inside the chilly arena. You needed a break from work after months of near constant shoots, and Elias was all too willing to enjoy more time by your side, even if he technically had a job to do.
You frown, upset with him for picking the side you always sleep on. “But I always sleep on the left,” you whine, before realizing you sound like a child. Instead, you square your shoulders and enter the room while doing the best you can do pretend like it doesn’t bother you.
Elias laughs when he sees you, bright and bubbly in stark contrast to your broodiness. “Oh baby,” he coos, closing the distance between your bodies and wrapping his toned arms around your waist, “I just want to be able to protect you, stay between you and the door. These young guys are like dogs and I don’t trust them.”
His concern is endearing, and you’ve never been great at staying angry with Elias. Any and all negative emotions vanish the moment he kisses you. It’s tender, loving, but with a gentle buzz of electricity humming underneath to let you know her his intentions. You’d risk your life a thousand times over if it meant you got to kiss Elias whenever you wanted.
“Okay,” you sigh breathily when he finally pulls away, breathless and moving to deadbolt the door, as if preparing for a night with no distractions whatsoever.
“Okay?”
You look at him confused, as if he couldn’t have possibly forgotten what made you upset in the first place. “You can sleep on the left side of the bed, but only if I get to be the big spoon while we watch our show.”
Elias smiles. “That’s my girl.”
⭑⭒⭑
You’d do anything to have him call dibs on part of the room right now.
Instead, you open your hotel room door to find two double beds placed a perfect distance apart. You’re bunking with Emily, your new assistant, and while she’s friendly enough and the two of you get along well, she’s not the one you want to be sharing a hotel room with in Wisconsin in the middle of January. She isn’t the one you want to brush your teeth with and make small talk about the upcoming shoot with.
There’s no real reason for you to slam your duffel on the floor beside the bed left to you, but you do. Elias isn’t here, isn’t coming back, and you need to get the fuck over yourself. Knowing doesn’t make it any easier, and when you face plant into the stiff mattress and let out a gravelly scream Emily gets incredibly concerned. She’s noticed you’ve been off since arriving at the hotel — it wouldn’t take anyone remotely close to you to realize something’s got you down in a major way.
“What’s the matter?” she asks tentatively, worried her words might set you off further. “The idiots we’re going to film over the next couple of days stressing you out?”
Emily doesn’t see you roll your eyes because they’re tucked so close to the blanket it’s suffocating, but you can’t help it. Of course she’d think your issue was the job you both came here to do — she didn’t know Elias besides him being a superstar athlete or the fact you once loved him so much it made it difficult to breathe when he was around. You remind yourself it isn’t her fault and manage to muster up a response.
“It’s nothing, I swear. Sorry for making you think there was an issue, especially about the shoot. I’m excited to do it.”
There’s no way she bought the lousy excuse, but Emily is also smart enough to leave well enough alone. If she hears you sobbing in the shower she doesn’t mention it. When you eventually step out of the bathroom and walk towards the left bed Emily gave you without a fight, you can’t help but notice she doesn’t watch television to unwind. Instead, she’s set up a puzzle on the small coffee table in the room and is working in complete silence. It was something you did with Elias as a sort of grounding exercise, to distract you both from the horrors of the real world, and you’re confused why it isn’t common practice.. The silence in the room suddenly makes your ears ring and you cover them in an attempt to block out the pain and loneliness the sound represents because Elias isn’t ever going to pressure you into watching some fishing show ever again.
She isn’t clueless and refuses to believe there isn’t something seriously wrong with you when you refuse to even look in her direction. “Okay, what the hell is going on? If you don’t want to room with me just say so. They’re other crew members I can stay with, and they’ll probably be much nicer than you.”
“No,” you sigh, so exhausted by the weight of your emotions, “I don’t have an issue with bunking with you. This is just the first time I’ve had to stay in a hotel since breaking up with my boyfriend, and we spent a lot of time together in rooms pretty much identical to this one over the years. I guess I’m struggling more than I thought.”
Emily nods like she understands, and while you don’t think she really gets the gravity of your confession, it’s nice to know someone is there for you. When she asks about him and what he was like you laugh — how do you encompass Elias Pettersson into a single sentence? The task seems impossible but Emily is patient, letting you talk as much as you want. Once the words run out and you’ve cried enough tears to fill a swimming pool the two of you turn out the lights and try to sleep. There’s still an Elias sized hole in your soul, but having someone not skirt around her in conversation because they’re afraid to see your face fall is refreshing.
⭒⭑⭒
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
You close your mouth, open it, and close it again, but no sound comes out. Elias is standing on the doorstep in a sharp all-black suit, red pocket square contrasting the darkness and knocking the breath out of your lungs. He had insisted on getting ready for your firm’s yearly charity gala separately, to ‘keep the mystery alive’, and you’re glad he left early this afternoon to get ready at Brock’s. If he hadn’t, neither of you would have made it to the event
“Shut up,” you grumble, pulling him inside and kissing him with the fire of a thousand suns. “You look like a classical sculpture.”
Elias giggles, runs a hand through his hair to tousle it to perfection, and reconnects your lips. “Me? This old thing? You’re the real smokeshow here, baby.”
The deep green long-sleeve dress you found in the back of your closest pales in comparison to what he’s wearing, but the way Elias is eyeing you makes it seem as though you’re wearing a tiara gifted personally by the Queen. A warmth creeps up the back of your neck and wraps around to your cheeks, fueling the fire for Elias to continue to marvel at you.
“Come on, you,” you sigh, looping an arm around Elias’s waist and leading him out the door. “We were supposed to pick up my boss nearly fifteen minutes ago.”
He doesn’t speak, knows you’re right, and follows you willingly. Elas does the driving, always has, and when he opens up your door he steals another quick kiss. Your laughter bounces off the roof of the car the entire way to the next destination.
⭑⭒⭑
The knock doesn’t belong to Elias. There’s no plan for him to accompany you to the gala this year. Hell, you don’t even know if he’s in the country. The Canucks schedule no longer takes up space in your mind given the split, and you don’t really even know if it’s technically hockey season anymore. You know all that, and yet you can’t stop yourself from hoping Elias will be on the other side of the door when you open it. He isn’t — it’s your friend James, looking incredibly dapper in a tuxedo that must be from his high school prom but somehow still fits. A corsage rests gingerly in his hand, and you could cry at the sight of it. The small bouquet is made of lilies and baby’s breath, known by everyone as Elias’s favourite flowers because they remind him of home.
“I thought you might want a piece of him with you tonight, even though it hurts a lot,” he says tenderly, and slips it onto your wrist. Tears well in your eyes, but they’re mostly the happy kind. Of course you wanted Elias with you, in any capacity you could get though your romance has long since gone cold, and the fact James didn’t hesitate to make it happen makes you cherish him more. Before his hand can leave yours you raise them both towards your face, placing a chaste kiss to the back of his in thanks.
He’s patient as you lock up and opens the car door for you like a true gentleman. Though you adore James Taylor and would probably follow him to war if he asked, he isn’t the person you want beside you. Your heart and soul yearns for Elias in a way no one else will ever understand. It’s sort of ridiculous that you’re still hoping because there’s been no contact for nearly ten months, but you’re a hopeless romantic at heart and want him to come back so badly. James doesn’t pretend to share your pain, which you’re incredibly thankful for, and is the only person in your life who isn’t pressuring you to get past the monumental loss that was Elias leaving.
“I miss him so much,” you sigh when the car stops at a red light.
There’s a beat of silence before he responds, as if he’s letting you feel just how much you miss your long-lost love at this very moment. “I know, kiddo. I know.” When you turn to face him, James offers a smile and turns the radio up a little louder. It takes a moment for the sound to reach your ears, but when it does you begin to cry again.
Through the crackling speakers of the old truck is the song you and Elias shared your first kiss to. It had happened on the make-shift dance floor of the wrap party for the third shoot the pair of you collaborated on , in front of everyone, but it had been absolutely perfect. You still remember the cheering from Quinn and a couple other teammates he brought along, and your friends’ fond smiles because they were relieved you finally let your guard down enough to love somebody. Time eclipses you, and you’re thrown back to that night for the rest of the song. You’re a little shaken up when the car jerks into park at the event space, and James gives you a moment to compose yourself before he leads you inside and stays close the rest of the night, always there to cheer you up when the loneliness begins to hover a little too close.
⭒⭑⭒
The years pass, torturously slow at first but then at a rapid-fire pace, and the pain of losing Elias turns into a dull ache that only flares occasionally. A passion project that started in your living room turned you away from sports related content and into the world of the silver screen, relocating you to Los Angeles and into one of the most in-demand directors for action movies that manage to still pack a gut-wrenching punch. Rarely do you have a spare moment to think these days, and almost never do you let the thoughts drift to your ex-boyfriend. 
It’s been nearly five years since he walked out, smashed your life to smithereens without a second thought, and while you’ve healed from the trauma of it all there’s still the occasional moment where something reminds you of Elias and it makes it hard to breathe. Tonight, it’s the sight of a hockey game on the television of the dive bar you frequently haunt when you’re home for more than forty-eight hours. Shallow puff of air float through your mouth as you look for him on the screen, realizing that it’s a stupid idea because Vancouver isn’t even playing. You then remember how much fun you had watching Elias’s games, and you curse him for taking something joyous away from you. Another round of drinks is ordered, the bartender eyeing you wearily but complying, and you wallow in silence for longer than you’ll ever admit to anyone. 
Hours pass and midnight is rapidly approaching. While you don’t have an early morning, not having to be at a table read until the late afternoon, you know you can’t hold your liquor the way you could when you were younger and staying out much later is going to cause more hassle than it’s worth. 
“Could I trouble you for one more and the bill?”
It’s getting increasingly loud in the dive, and you have to yell to be heard. However, it still isn’t working, and the bar staff can’t seem to understand what it is you want. Damn them for making you spend more time here. You clear your throat, about to try again, when a voice you never thought you’d hear again speaks from behind.
“Combine her tab with mine and close it out, if that isn’t too much to ask?”
The hairs along the nape of your neck bristle. “I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much.” You refuse to turn around, knowing that if you do your resolve will crumble. Anger is the primary emotion when you think about Elias, but you also miss him so goddamn much. Never getting any closure makes things tricky. 
A chuckle fans out behind you. “Never said you couldn’t. I do, however, think it’s the very least I could do for you.”
It’s true, and you let him know it. Still facing away from him, you don’t utter another word, even after the final drinks are brought around and everything is squared away. Elias doesn’t push you, knows your stony resolve still after all the time away. The silence is deafening as you wait for him to finish his beer before downing your cocktail. Not a word is uttered between the two of you, but the air is slowly losing its tension. 
Eventually you turn towards him, haphazard and full of spite, though it’s lowering considerably. You hate the way he destroyed your life when he left, and you hate the way looking at him in the dim makes your heart soften considerably. 
“I hate you.”
“You should.”
“Are you going to apologize?” you ask, unsure why it wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth. 
Elias cocks a brow. “Will it make anything better?”
“I suppose not.”
Silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it isn’t like it used to be either, and you aren’t exactly sure what to do next. Elias decides for you. “I’d like to maybe work towards being friends again,” he speaks cautiously, as if he’s terrified of your reaction. “I don’t know many people in the city, or in southern California for that matter, and seeing the occasional friendly face would help out a lot.”
He explains that he was traded to Los Angeles in the off-season, and that though he knew you were around sometimes he didn’t want to reach out after all the pain you experienced because of him. You like that he doesn’t try to apologize or make excuses, just acknowledges he did a horrible thing and is content to sit with the consequences for the rest of his life.
You consider his proposal, thoroughly mull it over in your head, but you can’t find any logical reason to turn Elias down. Your parents taught you to give everyone a second chance, and it seems like you’ll be in complete control of whatever happens. 
“We can do that. Just slowly.”
A nod of understanding comes from him, and with that he stands from the bar stool he’s occupied for the last little while. “I’ll see you around then. I kept my old number for convenience, so just give me a call when you’re ready.”
You nod, mimicking Elias’s previous action, and offer a short wave as he retreats into the busying street. Los Angeles is a city that comes alive in the night, and you can’t help but wonder if the universe sent Elias to you for a second chance because it knew just how much you still loved him. Maybe you find yourself hoping this proposed friendship drifts back to the way things were, but you’ll never tell a soul.
⭑⭒⭑
enjoy this fic? give it a reblog :) <3
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transpanda-1 · 1 year
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TIMELINE FOR PEOPLE WHO DON’T KNOW KH BECAUSE THEYRE SMART (for @ashenberry)
In the beginning, a mobile game happened. This is universally seen as a “bad move” and everyone hated it
Anyway, Ventus jettisoned from said mobile game with some extra darkness(tm) in his heart because he didn’t settle his debt on his pay to win gacha dues
Cut to baldy mcbaldman Xehanort. He’s a weirdo obsessed with darkness, so he goes: “Eh. Guess I’ll rip the excess darkness out of this kid’s heart and make a new person or smthn”
Cut to him doing that. Vanitas born. Vanitas has no face, just kinda a blurry black blob with red eyes
Ventus goes “ow my everything existentially” and passes out into a death coma. Luckily though an actual baby Sora’s heart is passing by and goes “oh lemme fill that pothole for u. Googoo Gaga.” And Ven’s heart no longer resembles the Grand Canyon
Vanitas has face now, like Sora.
Xehanort’s like “boooo why don’t you die harder” and shoved Vanitas and Ventus together again when they were stronger cause he needed to form his super extra special car keys
Ventus goes “wtf die” and Vanitas goes “Okay. Your heart tho.” And Ven goes “wait shit.” And then his heart explodes
The remnants of Ven’s heart return to Sora, “heart pothole filler extraordinaire”, and asks if there’s no vacancy, then he’s let in.
CUT TO YEARS LATER AND A BETTER STORY
Teen Sora’s chilling on his island with his pals, [Girl] and bestest pal Riku who definitely doesn’t have repressed gay feelings for Sora that will result in an angsty apocalypse
Oops the apocalypse
Anyway [Girl] is a super bright heart and escaped apocalypse by chilling in the room next door to Ventus’s but still just a bit too far from the ice machine for convenience.
Sora figures this out and goes “ooh I hope this doesn’t wake anything tramsgenderly in me” and releases [Girl]’s heart from his, at the cost of needing to release his own heart
Cut to waking up things tramsgenderly OUT of Sora’s heart
Turns out this universe makes two things when u release a heart. Ur heartless, who has ur heart, and your Nobody, who has ur body. Very straightforward I know.
Because Sora had Ven and [Girl] inside his heart, his mom lets him have two Nobodies: Roxas and Naminè.
[Girl] restores Sora quickly so those two actual nobodies start out as blank slates n figure out their identities
And absolutely nothing else happened no siree
Some nobodies tried making a clone of Sora but it turns out his tramsgender vibes were off the charts and made a girl named Xion. She’s trans. She explodes. Queen.
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sabo-has-my-heart · 10 months
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Hey there, so first time asking and hope I do it right.. and sorry for the grammar erorrs, I'm not sure ur ok with the scenario but I'mma give it a shot
so! It's based on a dream I had last night lol, a crocodile x fem reader in Victorian era🌚 crocodile is in his late 20's and ofc the richest of them lords, all good and ready to get married, it's most likely an arranged marriage and he has to choose between a few number of fine ladies who are chosen and well suited for him, but he already has a secret lover, she's a petite young lady, years younger than him -not so rich- and kinda weak due to her physics(yes I got daddy issues), who would never come up to his marriage standards so when she gets aware of the arrangement thing she's heartbroken inside and eventho she's so attached to him in all ways still tries to cut ties w him so he can achieve what is meant for him, things get kinda angsty here lol, but crocodile already knows it so he comes to the rescue and express his passionate love and respect(I'm dramatic and I know it) to her and say that he would never do such thing to her(the make outs and touches💅🏻)I just know he is oh so romantic with his one. It's extra romantic and a lil angst you can also add anything u want, a bit suggestive maybe, oh and he calls her doll🗿
I love ur writings sm I hope this helps u to make smth out of my miserable explanation lol, and thanks:>
Warnings: Victorian era setting, slight angst, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 1140
     He was the most eligible lord of the decade, literally mr. tall, dark, and handsome. Even the scar across his face could not diminish his good looks. As the richest man in the city on top of his looks, the only things that he could not have as his own belonged to the royal family, and even much of those could be bought for the right price. Despite the ladies that lined the edges of each gala, awaiting for a dance with him, he only cared for one. A lower born girl, barely considered a lady in most circles. With no manor to speak of, only a single butler and maid, and little wealth, you were often the subject of humiliation by the higher born ladies. Still, though, he cared for you. A chance meeting at one of the many parties he attended, dressed humbly in a simple, yet beautiful gown with no extravagant jewelry to speak of. Immediately, he’d been drawn to you, asking you for a dance, despite your place at the far walls of the ballroom. While your status often forced him away, he was still adamant about meeting with you as often as possible, bringing extravagant gifts whenever he visited. Expensive jewelry, rare flowers, and exotic fruits, he treated you to them all. Even as he was pushed to marry, he fought against it as often as possible, insisting that there was only one lady that he desired and none of the women brought before him were her. But his borrowed time was up and his family fed up with his excuses, he would marry a proper lady befitting his status! They’d already chosen a girl, rich and well bred, her family well known and influential. Both families had agreed and the lady ecstatic as they announced the engagement.
     Looking at the announcement, tears began to fall down your cheeks. He was engaged, and to a high born lady. Someone infinitely more well suited to him. She was someone with wealth, influence, good pedigree, and good health. In comparison, your family was only barely counted among the lords and ladies, your family tree in question, few riches, no influence, and your health was of poor quality. She would make a much better bride than yourself. Even still, you couldn’t stop the tears that continued to dot the paper in front of you. Your lover was marrying. It might be clearly arranged, but that didn’t change the fact that she was better for him than you. 
     Knocking on your front door, Crocodile growled slightly. He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the announcement. He could only think that you must have misunderstood. He didn’t want her, he wanted you. Part of him feared that the shock of the announcement would affect your health, that your already weak body wouldn’t be able to handle such a thing. He had to see if you were alright. Finally the door opened, revealing your butler, the man standing there rather than letting him in like usual.
     “Lord Crocodile. It is… it is a pleasure as always.” the man said with a bow, though he still stayed where he was.
     “I’m here to see Lady Y/n. I haven’t seen her in days. Is she unwell?” he asked, trying not to show just how concerned he was.
     “I’m sorry, my lord, but Lady Y/n has locked herself in her room and refuses to come out. The only person allowed to see her is the maid and even then, only for meals.” the butler said, concern evident on his face. A similar expression crossed his own as he glanced up at your window, the curtains drawn. Why had you locked yourself in your room? Was it the engagement?
     “Tell her that I did not want this engagement. That she is the only one I desire.” he said before walking away, glancing back once more before heading back for his manor. He would have to have a talk with his family, he absolutely would not marry that woman. 
     Despite his message, he still hadn’t seen you in days, by now it had been 2 weeks since he’d last seen you and he was growing ever more agitated. At this point, he’d simply given your butler a large case of money before storming up to your room. It didn’t take much for him to knock your door in, startling you as you looked up at him. You sat on your bed in a nightgown, your cheeks tear stained and eyes blood shot. 
     “L-lord Crocodile, w-what-” “I have not seen you in weeks, your butler says you have locked yourself in your room, and your maid claims that you have been crying! Did you truly not expect me to come?” he asked irritably. More tears filled your eyes, even as you wondered how you still had more to shed.
     “L-lady Veronica is much more well suited to a man such as you. Great wealth, influence, and family, a healthy body to give you as many children as you desire. Such a lady is-” “Not who I desire, doll.” he said, much more softly as he sat on your bed, caressing your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his large hand on your skin once again. 
     “I… wouldn’t you be happier with her?” you asked, staring into his eyes in worry. Crocodile chuckled as he kissed you softly.
     “No. She could be the next in line for the throne or a literal angel and I would still desire you over her. I will always want you over any other. Whether my family approves or not, I will only have you as my bride.” he said, pulling you in for another kiss, then another. Pushing against his chest, you breathed hard.
     “Crocodile, someone could see us kissing like this. It’s…” you blushed as you looked away, making him chuckle.
     “Then one last one and I’ll stop for now, doll. The day you and I wed, however, you can not stop me. As my bride, my wife, such things will no longer cause a scandal and I will be allowed to have you as I please.” he said, giving you one last passionate kiss. He was reluctant to leave you after what had happened over the last two weeks, but he knew he had to sort things out with both families, so he would before asking for your hand. He almost didn’t let go of your hand, leaving you sitting there smiling, your heart pounding. Peeking out your curtain, you watched him leave. Despite how he tried to hide it from you, you could see the fury in the way he walked. He would ‘amend’ things with both parties and he would have you, no matter the cost, his family be damned.
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crappymixtape · 9 months
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not without me
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read this a long time ago from @willelfanpage and @frodohaven – unedited, but here it is! // i need a scene of will trying to go off on his own on a dangerous task and mike's so desperately trying to make him stay and he’s grabbing his face and pleading with him and will knows if he looks him in the eyes he’ll stay for sure, so he keeps them closed and tears are rolling down both of their faces and it’s just angsty and heartbreaking and beautiful and I need it now.
N O T W I T H O U T M E
🎵 make this go on forever, snow patrol
Tiny beads of sweat gathered along Will’s forehead as he shoved things into his backpack. Flashlight, extra batteries, the pocketknife Jonathan had given him for his birthday and as he dug around in his closet looking for the small first aid kit he used to bring to summer camp his eyes caught a flash of red.
Bright scales, fire painted and ripping across the paper as the dragon breathed, shields and swords and four brave souls standing before the monster ready to face the horror towering over them and his throat squeezed. Wrapped around the feelings that pressed into his chest.
“Will? Will are you up there! Will!”
Sucking in a gasp he pushed past the painting and grabbed the first aid kit from under a pile of shoes, crammed it into his bag and zipped it shut.
“Will? Oh, shit. I thought you left.”
Mike’s voice was teetering on panic, anxiety rippling down his arms and sending his heart hammering against his ribcage. Relief had hit him when he saw Will hadn’t left, but anger and frustration replaced it when he saw the bag in the other boy’s hands.
“Uh, what’s that?”
“A bag, what’s it look like.”
Mike scoffed. Jammed his tongue into his cheek and tried to stay calm, but dread was settling heavy in his stomach.
“Okay. Is there enough shit in there for me?”
“No, Mike. There isn’t.”
That was it.
“Well, what the hell are you thinking? You can’t just go alone. He’s out there looking for you! Who’s gonna be there to–”
“No one! No one, Mike! Just like it always is! You can’t save me, okay? And I’m not gonna put you in a bed next to Max.”
Will wouldn’t even look at him, kept cramming more shit into his bag and hunched over the side of his bed and Mike felt tears burning at the corner’s of his eyes. Firmed his lips into a line to keep them from trembling. Sucked in a breath to try and steady himself. To keep everything from shattering into a million tiny pieces and took a step toward the other boy. Held his ground.
“Yeah? Well, what if I don’t care.”
“You don’t get to decide, Mike. This isn’t your fight.”
“No! You take that back!” Mike was shaking now, had closed the gap between them and grabbed at Will’s shoulder. Turned him so that he had to look and didn’t fight the tears now as they cut angry lines down his cheeks.
Will felt a crack fracture his heart in two, felt it try to swallow him whole, but pushed against it. Tried to ignore it and pulled his eyes away from his best friend, turned away and closed him out.
“Just go away,” Will choked on the words, unable to even get them out and Mike couldn’t take it.
“I won’t! God, Will. Just look at me!”
Pushing himself between Will and the bed, Mike shoved the bag away. Grabbed onto Will’s face and held the line of his jaw in his hands, big and wide and warm and Will squeezed his eyes shut. Knew if he opened them to look at his best friend he’d break. Knew if he saw how much Mike was crying he’d lose it too and would never leave the house. Would never be able to find Vecna. Would put them all at risk. Nancy, Steve, Lucas, Dustin.
Mike.
He was crying now, quiet and stoic and eyes still closed and it killed Mike to see it, but he kept going. Kept pushing.
“Please. Look at me,” Mike’s voice was trembling as he swiped his thumbs across Will’s cheeks, swept the tears away, pressed a kiss to the skin there desperate and so fucking sad and finally Will opened his eyes.
“I can’t,” Will’s shoulders were shaking as Mike sucked in a breath, tried to blink his own tears away, tried to gather himself back up.
“Yes you can, yes you can. Please stay. Please. Please, Will. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do. Please. Will,” another kiss pressed to his cheek, to his jawline, to his forehead, “Will.”
“M’sorry,” Will sobbed, falling forward into Mike’s chest, pressing himself against the boy to try and hide there and Mike wrapped his arms around him. Held him close. Cried with him and placed kisses to the top of his head. Whispered to him and told him nothing bad was going to happen. That they’d do it together and he’d never leave his side. That he couldn’t bear the thought of him going alone. That he
loved him.
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist
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nights-like-this17 · 1 year
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Tagged by the one the only @thatbluelight
Writing questions tag game
What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?
Probably “Can I Break Down Your Walls?” as a whole story arc, all the crazy shit that happens and how each chapter added more to their relationship. It was the first time I felt really connected to an idea. Most of the beginning stages actually came to me in a dream so I could always go back to that.
What is your favorite part of being a writer? Which parts could you take or leave?
I love connecting with people and making them feel/process their emotions. I’ve definitely met ppl through it or at least communicated with them enough to know I’ve had a positive effect which is all I’ve ever wanted to do with my writing. I feel like it’s a roller coaster of a process to write, I’d probably leave behind the bouts of writer’s block or spells of no motivation, but still they’re a part of the journey.
What is your greatest motivation to write/create?
I first started writing to create the stories that I wanted to hear, to fill in the blanks of what wasn’t said or shown in the media I loved. Now I feel like write to further extend a safe space or give people the opportunity to escape reality.
What do you wish you knew when you first started out writing?
I wish I knew how therapeutic it would be. I’ve been writing since I was very young because I had nowhere else to express my emotions safely, but writing fanfiction now allows me to establish my own worlds around characters I connect with, get things off my chest through the scenarios I’ve built.
What is your favorite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you like and can!
Probably “Purple hurts, but Blue stings worse”. I’m a sucker for a soul mate fic. This was probably the most thought out story I’ve written.
What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?
I had to did deep for this but
“This,” Becky starts dramatic as usual before Sasha can even ask, “is your pretty lesbian who’s gonna help you with your little problem” she offers like this is the end, the only choice, the standard for making Sasha’s experience one to remember.”
Really any time characters are being extra. I also really love in Purple Hurts when Becky and Seth are in a bet to see who can go longer eating specific colored foods…but I’m not searching through 20 chapters for that.
which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? why do you say so and how do you personally feel about their ideals?
The first thing that came to mind was Finn in “Can I break down your walls?” Cuz he’s literally abusive and ends up in prison for aggravated assault…
But also Trina’s mom in the power ranger soulmate fics when she tries to rub her soulmate mark off with windex cuz she’s a homophobe.
if you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?
Half of me thinks she’d be proud of how much I’ve actually written and that people actually read it and enjoy it. The other half thinks she’d be stunned that I’m still using writing as a coping mechanism, that I’m still living through a lot of my trauma and that I’m not over this shit yet. She’d also be concerned that I have run from fandom to fandom over the years, where is my loyalty?
This was fun, and deeper than I thought it would be, but two(2) people tops are gonna read it. But imma keep it here just for me that’s fine too.
If you have made it this far, go read my FreenBecky fic…it’s very angsty and very gay.
Retagging @theworldisrough because I don’t know anyone else. did you do this yet sis? I just wanna bother you lowkey. HELLO. If u have not been tagged and wanna be my writer friend, the applications are open.
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goatedgreen · 1 year
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HI yes I have a handful of questions answer however u want em :3
Abbi: how does she feel about Loreina at the start of the story versus now? What's up with their relationship?
Frith: does he ever tie up his hair? If so with like scrunchies, braids, ponytails etc.
Felix: does he have any rings or jewelry for his tail?
Annora: what sort of projects does she get up?
Maria: in the art I've seen of her, her left eye is covered and there's a little bit of a scar visible. Would love to know the story there or a hint maybes :3
THESE QUESTIONS ARE SO FUN!!!! okay ill try answer them as best i can without revealing too much :)
Abbie: at the beginning of our story abbie is unfortunately a bit of an unintentionally shitty sister :( because of her magic, she gets a lot of attention from their father, the king, while growing up. but because of this attention, she becomes a little sheltered, and a little distracted from everything else, that includes her younger sister loreina. theres resentment there, but abbie is basically oblivious to any of this until she runs away and starts the rebellion, assuming loreina was just an angsty teenager. when she finds out her sister genuinely hates her, she's devastated and tries her hardest to mend the relationship between them
Frith: during his time locked away, and then later as part of the king's personal guard, friths hair is not given a lot of attention beyond making it presentable to the public, this sometimes included tying it back into a low ponytail for important events, but normally it was just left to do its own thing. once he escapes that environment, he finds that people really like braiding his hair, and he likes the comfort of being able to trust people to do that, so its often found woven with pretty ribbons or flowers :)
Félix: surprisingly ive never considered that before but hes totally the type to want to accessorise like that!! his powers work in such a way that his wings and tail arent always present (early on) but as the story progresses and his extra limbs are there for longer and longer, he finds ways to incorporate them more into his look. he suits gold jewellery:)
Annora: before the story begins and all the characters are introduced to each other, annora is the only one of them (excluding abbie) who is aware that she is.... connected to Some People. like... Weird People In Her Dreams Who Are Actually Real People In Real Life. she isnt content to just chalk it up to over active imagination, especially when, after extensive research, she tracks down these people from her dreams and find out theyre real fucking humans in the real world (apart from the girl with pink hair, who she cant find on any search engine or newpaper clipping). basically shes a full blown conspiracy theorist, except the "conspiracy" is her own fucking life and powers that make it impossible for her to leave her house because Dear God these plants are so fucking Loud in her head, and the animals are Rude to her, even if they're not communicating in any language she can understand, and damn if she enters another mall with all those Feelings in it she might bite through drywall. basically shes just really into finding the truth behind everything, which makes her great at uncovering all the things covered up by the King from this magical world shes suddenly thrust into
Maria: well spotted!! yes, maria has a large scar going over her left eye and down her cheek. i wont say much other than, if a child approached you with eyes as red as the devil, claiming to be able to "see you when you arent there" and always knows a persons next move... well it might make you a little fucking terrified, and some people aren't inclined to run away from what theyre afraid of, but rather try to elimate the threat.
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