#at all and made it into a song during a time that was so traumatizing for ever afab person in the world basically and it just says 'i see | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlyswan · 4 months

Text

summary: in which leaving the past behind is not as easy as forgetting, and you want to be everything jungkook wants to know.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / wc: 7.9k

playlist: strange by celeste / sinking by clairo / manta rays by chloe moriondo / ceilings by beabadoobee / iris (cover) by phoebe bridgers & maggie rogers

content/warnings: [deep breath] no one will know the violence it took to become this gentle / it’s their first winter as a couple / oc’s ex bf slaps oc / jk beats up the ex / blood and bruises / crying :( / mention of cheating (not in our main’s rs we don’t tolerate that in this household :]) / mention of s*x / jimin as both their older brother and friend :(

in which masterlist!

note: greeting 2024 with angst woopsie… i literally ugly sobbed writing a particular scene T_T… anwww i hope it’s a good read <3 as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! i’d love to hear your thoughtsss 🥺

—

the word VICTORY flashes across the screen.

with a proud smirk adorning his lips, jungkook pushes down his headphones to hang around his neck.

he rises from his seat, resting his crossed arms over the partition dividing the computer that you’re renting from his.

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

he chuckles to himself when he realizes that you didn’t hear him, not with the music blasting from your headphones. you direct your attention upwards when endless song by no reply is abruptly put on pause; the cushions of the headphones are pressed up against your cheek by your boyfriend’s doing.

“what?”

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

“oh, yes…” your focus returns to the screen, fast fingers dancing along the keyboard without an ounce of hesitation weighing on them. “i just… need to… send the file to my email.”

jungkook blinks at the long rows of words you’re masterfully curating, thinking to himself — how the hell do you think and type that fast at the same time?

it was his suggestion to stay at a pc bang tonight so you could be together while you each do your own thing. he spent his half of his day-off playing games, and during that time, you worked on your research paper and finished an essay that isn’t even due for another week. you took a break every hour, munched on some snacks, and cheered him on while he was diligently playing. perhaps he could’ve done something more productive today, but it couldn’t have made him happier.

he holds out the last slice of gimbap in between chopsticks, lightly poking your lips, and his heart flutters when you offer him a sweet smile after welcoming the big bite with some difficulty, cheeks full and nose scrunched.

“is there anything else you want to eat?”

you shake your head, and unable to speak while chewing, you gesture for water as if you’re playing charades.

a kiss is granted to your forehead.

when he comes back with a bottled water, all your tabs have been closed and you’re wearing your white beret again, re-organizing your belongings in your backpack.

“ready to leave?” he inquires as he hands your order.

you hum as a reply, standing from your seat as you swing the backpack over your head to wear it with little to no effort.

jungkook thinks you’re so cool.

you visit the restroom as he settles the bill. when you come out, he’s already pulling out a credit card from his wallet. you decide to head straight for the door then, wait for him outside as the air inside the room has started to feel a little too stuffy after you stepped away from the computer.

you’ve always thought about it— how time stands still when you experience something traumatic, how that moment feels stretched for eternity… how utterly barbaric that is. you’re forced to memorize frames of the origin of your scars, relive it over and over again, eyes closed and open. moments of happiness, on the other hand, are fleeting. they are sand slipping through the gaps of your fingers. getting out of bed is scooping them in your hands and praying that they will hold on to you in the following rotations and revolutions of the earth. they never do.

there he stood at the bottom of the stairs, just as horrified as you.

his face is the last thing you want to see on a winter night.

because you still recall the amalgamation of emotions in his eyes two winters ago. his skin was flushed from the cold, but he turned redder with anger and your stomach coiled in shame.

“juwon?”

the name felt odd in your mouth. it’s like when you eat a food you haven’t had in a long time, and it doesn’t quite taste like you remember it.

and to be honest, you didn’t know what you expected to happen when he carried on to climb the remaining steps that led to you. but it definitely wasn’t… this.

the first hand to carress your bare body, as if it was in disbelief of its existence, and the rings you used to blindly adore— they collide with your cheek with a sound that resonates in your eardrums.

the slap thins out into a ringing noise.

“are you insane?!”

it continues to assault your hearing even as you scream and hit him back.

it ends when someone bumps against your shoulder in a haste, and the next thing you register is juwon lying on the ground with jungkook sitting on top him, balled fist throwing unforgiving punches at your ex-boyfriend’s face. juwon is held hostage by the shock and is unable to reciprocate jungkook’s aggression. he attempts to fight back but your boyfriend dodges easily.

“jungkook! stop, stop, stop!”

you run down the stairs with panic thundering in your chest, nearly in tears as you forcefully grasp at the back of jungkook’s coat to pull him away, but with his strength and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, your efforts prove to be fruitless.

“you fucking bastard! i’m gonna kill you!”

“that’s enough-” you cry out. “please!”

“how dare you lay a hand on my girlfriend like that, huh?!”

he is furious, gripping the collar of juwon’s sweater and slamming him to the ground.

“your girl?” coughing, juwon faces the side to spit out the blood in his mouth, which then shapes into an arrogant smirk. “didn’t you know? ____ was mine first. i was the first!”

the next punch he receives cuts his lower lip open, and a stronger metallic taste assaults his tongue.

“jungkook!”

before jungkook could inflinct more permanent damage, you resort to holding back his arm with both of your hands.

your gazes connect, and your heart drops to your stomach. he is seething with anger. your blood runs cold and a thick haze clouds your thinking. you can’t move your limbs. what do you do? what do you do? what do you do?

“____, let go. i’m not fucking finished with him.”

“please,” you beg, ignorant of the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. “that’s enough. look at him!”

“and why should i care?” he spits out as he shrugs you off.

“ah, jungkook! i said that’s enough! why won’t you listen to me?!”

your desperate tantrum falls on deaf ears. you squeeze your eyes shut when he re-assumes his stance, tucks his thumb over his folded fingers, exactly what he taught you about making a proper fist to avoid injuring one’s self when boxing.

“stop it! you’re scaring me!”

that throws a bucket of ice over jungkook’s head. the anger in his eyes is replaced by vacancy, and with that, juwon seizes the opportunity to finally strike him with a jab and escape from underneath him. jungkook finds himself pushed aside on the ground with a throbbing cheek, mostly likely to be noticeably bruised in the next hours.

“love-” you gasp, and you rush over to him but your path gets rudely obstructed by your ex.

“is this the guy you cheated on me with?”

he is extremely near that you can feel him panting on your face. two years later, your stomach coils in disgust. your glare is venomous, and if only looks could kill, if only looks could kill…

“just leave, won’t you? what’s the point of all this?” you roughly push him away with your remaining shred of energy, driven by exhaustion and frustration. “it was so long ago! get a fucking grip!”

he huffs in disbelief as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth. it also drips from his nose and eyebrow. strange enough, you do not feel guilt nor compassion for this man. not anymore.

“are you seriously crying just because he got punched one time…? isn’t that a little unfair? you loved me too. once.” he snickers, but he is visibly pissed off. he can no longer look at you in the eye. “shit, is he that much of a better fuck than me?”

your skin crawls. bile creeps up your throat. technically speaking, this is the consequence of your own actions, but you can’t help but to be resentful.

“you are…” your voice trembles, but your glare remains unwavering. “still as despicable and shallow as ever… and i don’t regret what i did.”

and it may have been a long time ago, but you still know how to hit him where it hurts the most— his ego.

you purposely bump against his shoulder as you make your way to jungkook, leaving him speechless as he stares at the ground. the night the two of you broke up, you were crying and begging him for forgiveness… what the fuck happened?

“let’s go home.” you demand quietly while refusing to meet jungkook’s stare— a mix of confusion, offense, and rage.

but the thing about juwon? he always needs to have the last word.

“you better keep a close eye. you might think you know ____, but whores never change. especially those who became one so young.”

“dude, how are you still speaking?!”

it’s too late when you realize that jungkook has left your side. he swings at juwon’s face with a force that sends the man stumbling backwards. he completely loses balance then collapses on the ground with a curse that almost misses your ears.

“don’t ever go near ____ again! don’t even think of it! if you show your face to me again, i might really end up fucking killing you. you hear me?!”

—

jungkook doesn’t recall a time when he felt a rage this intense and consuming. witnessing you get slapped, his vision went dark and he was shaking with fury. everything was a blur after that, but he knew one thing: this man violated the most precious person to him, and he won’t allow him to get away with that unscathed.

and that must be why he feels restless until now. neither one of you has dared to utter a word for the past couple of minutes. he can’t see your face as you’re walking ahead of him, leading the way with his wrist in your cold hand. however, he can hear your sniffles, and he can see you wiping your tears dry with the back of your hand. he thought he has experienced heartbreak, but this pain cuts deeper than anything he has ever felt.

“baby, let’s go back.”

he breaks the silence, standing infront of you to stop you on your tracks. he almost reeks of desperation as he intertwines your fingers together.

“please? there should be a cctv camera infront. we can sue him.”

“are you even hearing yourself? you’ll also get into trouble!”

his insistence only fuels the urge to cry and scream and break things. it’s an understatement to say that you’re ashamed. it was foolish of you, really, to assume that leaving the past behind would be as easy as forgetting. it may be out of sight but it is everywhere, and it sneaks up on you without tell and mercy.

“you attacked him out of nowhere! he can sue you for that too!”

“out of nowhere?” he repeats your words slowly, hurt flashing across his face. “i was protecting you, ____! who knows what else he could’ve done? and the shit he was talking about you? was i just supposed to stand there and do nothing?”

“and i’m protecting you too! why did you even have to punch him again?! he was obviously just trying to provoke you! god, i-” you release the air in your lungs you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. “thank god he didn’t see your face.”

that struck a nerve for some reason. he harshly rips off the mask that has been concealing half of his face all along.

“he hit you! look- fuck, you’re bleeding-”

oh, his rings must’ve grazed you.

jungkook brings out a clean white handkerchief from the backpocket of his pants, pressing it softly against your cheek. the sharp sting forces you to grit your teeth. it’s not only the wound… your skin is still warm and tender from the assault. you’re terrified to look at the mirror. you don’t want to feel sorry for yourself.

“and that’s what you’re really worried about right now?”

“okay, then i’m sorry for caring about my boyfriend and his career! i’m sorry, okay?!“

he dies a little inside when you harshly push his hand aside.

so this is what it feels like to be at the other end of your anger… shitty. it feels really shitty. after what happened, there is no sadness or fear. the twinkle in your eyes have been replaced with sharp daggers and it is gutwrenching to watch. it clicks for him then: you weren’t scared of him. you were scared for him.

he doesn’t allow you to go further than ten feet away. he seizes your arm before sneaking his hand on your waist to tug you closer to his body.

“you think i’m letting you out of my sight again? it’s not happening!”

you click your tongue in exasperation, left with no choice but to admit defeat as he hails the approaching taxi. you cover your face to hide from the blinding headlights.

ever the gentleman, jungkook opens the door for you.

“get in, ____.”

and the first thought that enters your mind: the air freshener is nauseating. it has to be something mixed with lemon.

you roll the window down as your boyfriend dictates the address of your destination to the taxi driver. not yours, but his. you send him an unimpressed scowl, but he only looks back at you challengingly under the warm dim light. the soft cloth is placed over your wound again, rudely snatched as you turn away from him. you hold it on your own as you watch the world outside the window, streetlamps with blurry light streaks and homes you will never set foot into. in the midst of your musing, you register the weight on your head, or its lack thereof. your beret landed on the ground in the aftermath of the first strike. what is there left to lose?

you thought you could be happy at last, but beside you is another soul you’ve stained with your bloody hands.

juwon was right, you never change.

—

“i still don’t think it’s right that i know the password.” you whisper as you push the door open.

“but i have a key to your house. what’s the difference?”

“i don’t know…” you begin removing your boots, carefully placing each one in the middle level of the shoe rack. “you live with six other people.”

“namjoon-hyung and yoongi-hyung are in their studios. the others went home.”

you enter the living room with jungkook hugging you from behind. his cheek rests on top of your shoulder, and he doesn’t want to let you go. the ride here was suffocating. he thought you wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the night anymore.

you blink at jimin who is sprawled out on the sofa, a gray blanket that matches his sweatpants is covering his naked torso.

“why does he sleep here? doesn’t he have a bed?”

“the sofa is more comfortable.” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear as he opens his eyes halfway, but then he gives up and closes them again, curling in on himself to resume his slumber.

“okay… now i know what to get you for your birthday.”

for a brief second jungkook assumes that you’re joking, but you sounded way too nonchalant.

“a sofa?”

“a new mattress,” you blankly stare back at him, before proceeding to break free from his embrace to search for the bathroom.

he follows you like a lost puppy, whining. “why does he already have a birthday gift and i don’t?!”

“quiet!”

he winces. “sorry, hyung!”

—

you’re perched in the space between jungkook’s thighs, legs swung over one of them as he tenderly presses a cold compress against your left cheek. you’ve changed into the pair of pink cooky pajamas he wore a few times and has kept in his closet specially for you. sinking into his mattress, drowsiness has also begun to seep into the depths of your bones. it’s been an arduous week, and you’re exhausted of fighting in every sense of the word.

“he deserves more than what he got away with.” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“jungkook, enough.” you chide at him with a sigh. “let’s just forget about this.”

“your face is going to be bruised for atleast a week! how am i supposed to ‘just forget’? are you hearing yourself?”

your rhetoric question from earlier comes back to gnaw at your thread-like sanity. you feel backed into a corner. you can’t think of a solution that will put this issue at rest, much less make either one of you feel better.

“he’s not worth it.”

“you are to me.” he declares.

it’s impossible to argue with that. you want it to stay true. you want him to keep believing in you.

“i’m tired.” you whisper, removing yourself from his lap. “let’s go to sleep.”

he gazes at you with longing.

you are lying on his bed but you have never felt so far away.

“are we really not going to talk about this?”

“not now. i’m tired, jungkook.”

“baby…”

“juwon is a terrible person, but i had it coming…” you mumble. “that’s all there is to it.”

foreboding silence falls upon the bedroom. you can’t bring yourself to look at jungkook, so you close your eyes and pray that when the sun rises, this night will simply turn out to be a nightmare orchestrated by your wicked mind.

“whatever that is, it doesn’t warrant what he did.” he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and it takes everything in you not to fall apart into a thousand shards. “and i’m sorry that i couldn’t stop it from happening.”

—

jungkook returns after his shower, not yet done with drying his dripping hair with a towel. you’ve drifted off to sleep in the time that he was gone, lips slightly parted open as you breathe out puffs of air in a steady rhythm. your hair is a halo and you’re an angel snoozing on a cloud.

he heard it loud and clear, and you haven’t denied it either, but there’s not a part of him that believes it. is he blindly in love with you? is this what he was warning him about? are you not an angel, but a siren?

wary of waking you up, he attaches a bandaid to your cheek. he flicks the lightswitch but he turns on the night lamp so you won’t have to manuever the dark incase you wake up in the middle of the night in need of the bathroom.

shit, shit, shit. he curses in his head when you begin shuffling as soon as he settles himself on the bed, but it’s just you unknowingly seeking for warmth in your sleep. he gathers you in his arms and your pillow is abandoned in favor of his naked chest. it always feels fitting, like his heart is the stuffed toy that you can’t go without at night.

he swallows the lump in his throat, brushing your hair away from your face to gently caress your soft skin. you look so serene. but your ex’s fingers can be traced on the red bruise that has tainted your cheek and his jaw clenches, hand momentarily balling into a fist to release the leftover anger still boiling in his blood. everyday, you feel the need to act tough because of people like him, and you are… but deep down, he knows, that you just crave to be loved.

“you loved me too. once.”

however, that has lost its meaning when juwon didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved.

and jungkook admits it’s not as easy for him to do in a whole different dimension. he leads a kind of life not everyone survives, but that never stopped him for trying his damn hardest.

—

you’re awoken in the middle of the night by jungkook’s forehead accidentally knocking against yours. his snoring doesn’t cease, however, and you had to remind yourself that this is the same boy who continued sleeping despite rolling off his inflated sleeping bag on camera.

you slowly sit up as you rub the sleep from your eyes. you spend an unknown amount of time spaced out, barely blinking. afterwards, you force yourself to leave the comfort of the bed, taking the cold compress along with you. you drain the melted ice over the kitchen sink before opening the refrigerator to refill it with ice cubes. you can’t help but to allow your eyes to wander around, which then leads you to contemplate on whether to cook ramen or not… but then again, it’s already 3am and most likely, you won’t be able to sleep again if you do.

“yah! why are doing just standing there?”

the deep voice echoes throughout the kitchen. you yelp in shock, nearly dropping the ice bag as you tap on your pounding chest.

“i told you to stop doing that!”

jimin bursts into a fit of too delighted giggles, hunched over the kitchen counter as he places a hand over his belly. he’s fully clothed this time, fresh from the shower, judging from his hair.

“it’s not funny!” you whine. “one of these days i might be holding a knife when you do that!”

“ey, what would you be holding a knife for? jungkook never lets you lift a finger while you’re here.”

that’s just because he knows you’re not very talented in the kitchen.

the wide smile on his face then fades, expression morphing into one of concern as he studies your face bathed by the refrigerator light.

“what happened to your face?”

fuck, you’ve completely forgotten about that.

“it’s a long story.” you sigh, closing the refrigerator.

“it’s alright. i have all the time in the world to listen.”

“you know that i really appreciate that and i’m grateful but…” your smile borders on a wince. “no, you don’t. get some more sleep, please.”

your unexpected response causes jimin to scratch his head shyly. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before laughing at the same time.

“oh, that’s right!” you pause on your tracks when an essential item pops in your mind. “do you have healing ointment? for cuts and bruises and stuff?”

“it’s for jungkook,” you add.

“doesn’t he have that?”

“it’s not here,”

your sweet smile tells jimin everything he needs to know.

“ah, that kid really comes home to different houses now. he’s all grown up.”

“…and how many exactly?” you arch an eyebrow.

he purses his lips together, jokingly pretending to think hard. “the dorm… and then his family… then there’s you?”

“anywhere else?”

“nope!”

“sooo, do you have it or not?”

“i’ll go downstairs and buy it right now.”

he offers you a kind smile and pats on the head. a protest dies down in your throat as he goes straight for the front door.

“thank you!”

“you’re welcome!”

—

despite your active efforts to avoid making any sort of noise, the door produces a small ‘click’ as you cautiously close it behind you. you discover that jungkook has flipped over to face your side, his arm outstretched as if he was reaching out for you. you almost feel bad for leaving him alone in bed, so you sit next to him, positioned on the lower half of the bed since he took up your space.

a short snore escapes him, one that rises then falls so abruptly, like a note on the piano pressed on accident. you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle.

how adorable. you have grown to tolerate, and even adore, his snoring.

stolen kisses on his bruised knuckles, tiny and featherlight, apologetic most of all. their bad condition brought upon by boxing worsened when he used his dominant hand bare, knuckles of his two longest fingers ripped. it seems that he did the bare minimum by putting a stop to the bleeding then washing them clean, then nothing else. he didn’t even tell you, didn’t complain or show any sign that he was in pain.

you hold the cold compress over his bruises, switching between his cheek and knuckles, mindful of not touching the wounds as to not aggravate him in his sleep.

you’ve been stripped down bare— your pride and dignity dismantled into pieces that create a picture of you that you do not like… but could be the love and sincerity in your heart be enough to live by? even if no one is awake to witness it?

you’re saved from drowning in your thoughts by the front door being unlocked. for the second time, you tiptoe your way out of jungkook’s bedroom.

“this is for wounds, and then…” jimin returns the tube inside the paper bag to grab the other. “this one, for bruises.”

“thank you. i’ll pay you back.”

“yah!” jimin expands his eyes threateningly, which you mimic in challenge as you hug the paper bag to your chest. “i’m also your older brother, okay? i should do these things for you.”

you scrunch your nose, to express disagreement at first, but later on it only makes your smile appear brighter.

“doesn’t it hurt you to smile? please use them well too, ____. do you understand? that’s why i bought the biggest ones!”

it does hurt.

“thank you…” you reply shyly.

you’ve forgotten how it feels like to be taken care of by family.

—

“baby, where did you go?”

jungkook’s raspy voice is music to your ears.

he woke up a mere minute ago, caught in the middle of sitting up on the bed once it caught up to his sleep-muddled brain that you’re no longer beside him.

“nowhere,”

you sit at the edge of the bed without another word, putting his hands over your lap to apply the healing cream to his afflictions.

his eyelids flutter in sleepiness as he watches your every movement.

a small dollop at the pad of your finger, transferred over his torn knuckle and smeared with the lightest of touch. occasionally your finger pauses, unsure, calculating— the last thing it wants is to hurt him.

he kisses your lips— he feels suspended in time—hasn’t quite reconnected with reality and with his body. wide-eyed, you seem taken aback by the display of affection. his mouth then softly curves with fondness.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you whisper timidly.

your actions have become hurried, but jungkook is far too drowsy to notice your discomfort.

for the final part, you rub the cream on the bruise on his cheek. you press a kiss on the corner of his lips. “all done. go back to sleep.”

“let’s go,”

he hooks his arm under your knees, eager to carry you over to your side of the bed, but he gets interrupted by your protest.

“wait, wait, wait- i need to pee first.”

“wha- hurry!” he complains with a peeved frown, which you fail to catch a glimpse of because he has squeezed you taut against his body. “i won’t be able to sleep without you here.”

—

eternally cursed with the ability to feel too much of everything.

you push your back against the bathroom door, breathing heavy and labored as you blindly pat around for its lock. the click serves as the cue for your salty tears to drip from the edges of your eyelashes, cascading down, down, down your chin. some of them crash on the collar of your pajama top, the rest on the white tiled floor. this room is a stranger to your shipwreck, but old habits die hard.

the intense pressure of the water collides with the porcelain sink. rain and thunder and the gusts of wind being your gasps for air. an isolated storm undetected in the city of seoul you’re forced to brave alone, on the floor, tucked into yourself to protect the beating sacredness inside your ribcage. the sobs claw their way up your throat rather than soaring like exhales do.

no one has ever raised their hand at you. not even your parents. not even when you broke your grandmother’s precious china, or lost their big paper bills to the wind, or cursed at them for embarrassing you infront of your friends.

you want to be mad and say that juwon deserved what he got. you want to say that you hope his nose is broken. but you don’t know how one is supposed to react when something like that happens. you don’t know if it justifies everything after that. if the roles were reversed and you slapped him, won’t no one bat an eye?

…and you know jungkook has questions you still haven’t figured out how to answer. you know he now has reasons to doubt you. you know in his eyes, you may now be a hypocrite and not the advocate he adored. these days, you don’t really want to be seen as anything less or more than who you are, but you so desperately wish to be someone he is proud to love.

you feel mocked for even daring to dream of it.

“i’m tired, i’m tired, i’m tired.”

incoherent mumbles further stirs the unbridled chaos.

“i’m so sick of this. why… why do bad things keep happening to me?”

you don’t expect an answer but you yearn for some sort of meaning. you don’t mind suffering but you wish it could only be to an extent where you don’t have to fear.

echoes of rumbles and thunder. you’re nearer the sky but farther from heaven.

—

it’s been more than a week. you’ve been waking up with a gaping hole in the middle of your torso. you climb out of bed, cover up your cheek with make-up, good as new, and go about your day as if nothing happened. life on its own is already too much of a burden for you.

jungkook checks up on you everyday, though, despite his busy schedule. mostly through the phone, and whenever he can, he goes straight to where you are after work to dote on you no matter the time. he kisses you on the cheek, claims himself to have healing properties, and says i love you. and during those periods of time you were together, he hasn’t said another word about the incident. and it has been driving you absolutely insane.

you glance down at him, sat on the floor with an ipad balanced on top of his propped up knees, wearing one of your anti-radiation glasses as he finds himself absorbed in drawing the view a foot away from him. you.

“why do you keep looking at me?” he scolds you lightheartedly. “go back to studying so we can go to sleep.”

“can’t help it,” you mumble as you reposition your pen over the paper. you’ve been reorganizing your notes the whole night for your upcoming tests, but your mind keeps flying everywhere else. “my boyfriend’s too pretty.”

“ah, it can’t be helped then. sorry about that.” he smirks cockily, pulling the dramatics by switching his eyes between you and his back. “should… should i turn around then?”

“did you box again?”

the accusation is spat out before you can think twice.

“oh, you did. your knuckles are all messed up again.”

he pouts, crossing his legs. “but baby, i have to train... i wrapped my hands properly!”

“still,” you sigh. “can’t you just let them heal for a little while?”

you turn to the cabinet on your other side to bring out the pouch of healing ointments you’re now suspecting he brought and didn’t accidentally leave behind.

you lay out your hand, and jungkook puts his on top of yours, dragging himself close.

you both smile when you see that he has laid his hands over your thighs like he’s getting a manicure. silly boy. you pull them closer by his fingers so you can reach his red knuckles.

“why are you trying so hard?”

your finger is stained with his blood. your voice is as gentle as your touches, and that’s why it hurts.

jungkook doesn’t know either. he’s been trying to extinguish his leftover anger and bitterness through work and boxing— suppressing the onslaught of negative thoughts threatening to poison what the two of you have. jungkook doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t want anything to change. right now, he can’t afford them to.

“there’s no one to fight.”

“turns out there is,” he argues.

he regrets it as soon as your hand trembles.

“it’s okay… to ask. we’re in a relationship. you’re entitled to know things like that.” your eyes are unafraid again, and it scares him, like you’re always prepared to let him go. “i won’t get offended, or anything like that. if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i trust you,” he says simply. “so i don’t need to know. especially if talking about it makes you uncomfortable. it’s okay… we’re okay, baby.”

stillness washes over the room like a tide that swallows everything up, and for a moment jungkook is convinced that the two of you will never bring it up again.

but the words you utter next are a punch to the gut.

they almost sound like a plead.

“but i can’t live my life that way, jungkook.”

strands of your hair descend to your face, framing it perfectly, but your eyes become hidden from view. you rip a bandaid open and blanket it over his two knuckles, still wounded as before, if not worse.

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know…” because there will be things i’d want to tell you, but wouldn’t feel the need to.

“then tell me,” he replies, prompted by a renewed determination. “i don’t just intend to be with you for a long time. i want way more than that.”

—

jungkook fiddles with the hello kitty bandaid using his thumb, mind reeling and grappling to process the overload of information told by your storytelling voice. all of a sudden, he’s grateful that you decided to lie down on the bed for this conversation.

“juwon was your boyfriend before me, no?”

“no, no, no. he was…” your lips part as if you have something more left to say, but you eventually give up. “yup, no.”

“so you found out that he’s been cheating on you for-for two mo-”

“three-”

“three months, and you…” he blinks. “slept with a stranger and let him catch you?”

“i was really petty. i was seventeen after all… my pride couldn’t take it. my friends- they tried to stop me but… but all i could think of was how to make him feel the way i was feeling.” your voice sounds small, smaller as you squeeze yourself into his side and curl up to hide your face. “so i let him think i was the bad guy.”

he understands that you were vengeful, but he doesn’t know if you comprehend the scale of what you have done.

“he looked so sad and hurt that i started to feel guilty. i don’t know if i was still acting when i was apologizing to him.” you scoff with eyebrows knitted together. “i felt so dirty… i still feel like a bad person, you know?”

you took the face of juwon’s demons and he didn’t like what he saw.

“i had it coming,” — he now has a grasp of what you meant before.

“so how has he been doing this to me for such a long time? how does he stomach it? knowing what i was going through? that’s what i thought… it makes me so upset…”

jungkook doesn’t try to assess you as you speak. he only listens, until your voice cracks. his heart is split into two as tears flood your eyes, escaping past the corners and slipping down to soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

you sniffle. “and the sex wasn’t even that great. i regret it even more.”

he flinches, abruptly squeezing his eyes shut. not that great? okay… okay. the mental image of you being physically intimate with someone that isn’t him definitely doesn’t sicken him to his core. at all. nope, nope, nope.

“fuck, baby, please,” he groans as if he is in pain, putting an arm over his eyes. “hearing about you have sex with other guys is making me want to punch something again. fuck.”

“that’s what you took away from the story?”

“yes!” he exclaims with conviction. “we should’ve met a year earlier. i would’ve let you use me!”

you gasp, scandalized. “oh my god! jungkook!”

“argh-” he animatedly clutches at his chest that caught your fist.

“you’re crazy!”

“uhuh, about you.” he proudly replies, pulling you closer to his side, as if that was still possible.

the subtle upwards of the corners of your lips gives him a sense of relief. he tenderly cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the bruise that has turned a darker shade of blue and purple.

“listen to me, i- i’m not here to tell you what’s right or wrong. i’m not that type of person. but what i can do tell you is that this…” he briefly shakes his head. “didn’t change the way i see you at all. he hurt you. he cheated and you were hurt, ____.”

your eyes gleam with uncertainty, a fresh wave of tears threatening to escape. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. why wouldn’t i be sure?”

“because you’re crazy about me.”

the sweet innocence of your eyelashes fluttering elicits a chuckle from him. you’re so fucking cute.

“that’s the reason i’m sure.” he tilts up your chin to plant a kiss to your lips, mumbling. “i’ve never been wrong about anything i’m crazy about.”

“thank you,” you say quietly, melting into his embrace. you nuzzle your face against his chest, and at last, you grant your eyes rest. “i can finally sleep peacefully again.”

fuck, it’s been weighing on you this whole time and he didn’t know.

“i’m sorry i only dated assholes before you.”

“aish, why would you be sorry about such a thing?” he kisses the top of your head, gentleness contradicting his following sentence. “i’d crush each one of those assholes for you.”

and he’d beat himself up the worst if he ever becomes one of them.

you yawn, sniffling right after. “mhm, i bet you will.”

he carefully rolls over to the side so he can wrap both arms around you, and you keen in contentment.

“jungkook?”

“yes, baby?” he coos.

“i… really… love you so, so, so much. you are… the one person i’d die for before i hurt.”

goddammit, it’s an angel sleeping in his arms.

“that’s a relief to hear. you’re very smart and scary when you’re mad.”

“eh, jungkook! i swear i’ve grown up! i’m not like that anymore!”

“okay, okay!” he laughs at your childish whining and squirming as he ushers you back in his embrace. “i believe you! i trust you! i love you too!”

—

although you spend more nights together in your apartment for your safety and convenience, in all honesty, you like staying over at jungkook’s more. his smell evokes the sentiment of home, and when you stay long enough, it becomes a temporary part of you. you’re gradually more well-versed in the organized and unorganized corners of his room. you like that you know where he keeps the safety pins and you know to be careful when walking so you won’t trip over his dumbbells he leaves lying around. and it’s a little ridiculous but… you like that his mattress is on the floor and you don’t really know why.

your boyfriend is still blissfully asleep as you climb over him, landing on the floor without a sound like a veteran spy. however, you rush to step out of the room before the rumbling of your empty stomach could wake him up.

“yah, thief! what do you think you’re doing?!”

“fuck!” the pack of ramen hits the floor when your hands fly to your chest to clutch at your painfully pounding heart. “i swear to god, you’re going to kill me one day!”

and unsurprisingly, your chagrin is countered yet again with jimin’s all too pleased laughter.

“____, you look so suspicious! why are you using a flashlight? we have electricity! we can pay for it!”

“i don’t like it too bright, okay?” you grumble as you pick up your supposed midnight meal.

“let’s just turn on this one then.”

“uh-” the objection dies down in your throat when the light over the dining table was switched on.

“i’m hungry, too. grab two more packs of ramyeon, please.”

“who’s the other one for?”

jimin fills the pot with water from the sink while you pick up two more of the same pack from the pantry.

“just us. don’t you agree that one pack is too small for one person?”

“it’s just enough for me though?” you rip open the packs one by one to retrieve the packets of seasonings. “with your job, though, i’d definitely have a bigger appetite.”

“alright,” he pouts, pretending to be upset. “let’s have just two then.”

“no, no, no-” you chase his hand, tightly gripping the last pack that he stole. “let’s have three! let’s have three! i didn’t eat dinner!”

—

“my mom brought a lot of kimchi yesterday. there’s an entire box in the fridge. i’ll pack you some before you leave later.”

“put some more in,” you say cutely as you peer down at the pot of ramen beside jimin. “please?”

he chuckles, adhering to your request before handing the container to you.

“thank you!”

you hop on the counter infront of the stove, chewing on a mouthful of kimchi with a joy akin to a child receiving a sweet treat. leaving the ramen to cook for the next five minutes, jimin sits a few feet away.

“aigoo, are you that hungry?”

“this is so delicious!” you praise his mother’s cooking instead of answering the question. “i can really eat this on its own.”

“ey, don’t fill yourself up yet! we have a lot of ramyeon to eat!”

“sorry, sorry!”

your giggles fill the apartment with warmth during this freezing winter. jimin didn’t doubt it when jungkook said that you light up every room you enter, he just didn’t expect that he would also gain a friend.

“how’s your cheek?”

“as you can see,” you motion at your face. “yellow. soooo… uglier.”

“that means it’s healing well.”

“i know,” the apples of your cheek become plump as your lips curve. “it no longer hurts to smile.”

“that’s a relief to hear,” he returns your kind smile. “jungkook has been worried about you.”

that’s the end of what he can tell you. jungkook won’t be pleased if you learn that he cried when he talked about the horrible thing that happened to you.

“thank you,”

“huh? for what?”

“being jungkook’s happiness.”

from his peripheral vision, he perceives your surprise. however, he is too flustered to meet your eyes while he is speaking from the bottom of his heart.

“the past year was physically and mentally draining for the team. as you know, we… we were considering giving up and disbanding. and of course it’s hard on all of us, but i’m really, really worried about jungkook. but!”

he chuckles at the dramatic rise of his own voice.

“i’m less worried now that you’re in his life. and i’m not saying this to put pressure on you or anything! but you see, when he’s tired, he bounces back quickly because of you. he’s smiling more because of you. and i know it goes it also goes the other way around. mhmm… i-i guess what i’m saying is that i hope you can continue being each other’s strength? be each other’s cheerleader?”

you have begun to feel emotional as you listened to his sincere and heartwarming words, but you can’t help but to cackle at the fact that you just witnessed the park jimin say the word ‘cheerleader’ while daintily waving his hands around as they were holding pompoms. how awfully endearing.

“…or something like that.”

uncontrollable giggles vibrate his body, dramatically slipping down the counter and onto the tiled floor to enshroud himself in extreme sheepishness.

“ah, ____! this is driving me crazy! don’t laugh!”

“what are you doing lying on the floor?” you playfully scold him, recording with your phone in secret. “why do i suddenly feel like the older one?”

“what’s with the noise?”

you whip your head around, wide curious eyes greeted with a shirtless jungkook who is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“is that ramyeon…? i want some too.”

jimin groans when he feels your foot poke him lightly.

“mister, can we add more? my googie is hungry too.”

—

“hyung, ____ told me something recently that really put a lot of things into perspective.”

and with that, jimin pours another bottle of beer in his and jungkook’s ice-filled mugs. “let me hear it.”

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know. at first i didn’t understand what it meant? then after we talked, something clicked for me. ahhh, i see it now. ____ didn’t want us to trust each other blindly… because that… that isn’t a good… foundation? for something that i want to last for a very long time. you, me, the members… don’t we all trust each other because we know that we’re good people to our core and we’re good at what we do? isn’t that why we have come this far, and why we keep going? besides army, of course!”

jimin blinks lazily, glossy eyes from the alcohol underneath it all. “that’s right. we wouldn’t have started this anyway… without that kind of trust. i don’t think it’s a connection you can just build with anyone too.”

“oh, that’s it. that’s right!”

“living together for a long time doesn’t guarantee it.”

“exactly.” jungkook nods repeatedly, probably too passionately, a guaranteed ticket for a hangover later on. “we talked about that last time too.”

“right? so we should protect it… maintain it… never lose sight of our purpose…”

the lack of words that follow does not equate to silence. glasses clink against each other and teeth rip bags of chips open and noodles are slurped. they’re overseas and they can’t go to a korean restaurant and grill their own meat. the hotel steak would take forever to arrive and quite frankly, they had it yesterday and it was not good. this is not exactly ideal, but it has its own charm.

jungkook takes another swig of the bittersweet alcohol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards.

“____ has become an important part of my life that i would do anything to protect too. how do i say it…?” he exhales to relieve the heavy weight on his chest. “i feel like i gained more purpose in life, hyung… to be honest, i might have a harder time because of that. i know it but… i’m happy. seriously, i’m happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

2K notes · View notes

poge-life · 1 year

Text

𝕍𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝔽𝕒𝕚𝕣 ~ 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕪

“ I’m (y/n) (l/n) and we’re the cast of Outer Banks and today, we’re going to test how well we know each other.” You smiled looking between the camera and the group to your left. Carlacia raised her hand as she motioned between you and Drew, “Drew shouldn’t be allowed to answer any of these because none of us will even have a chance.”

Everyone let out sounds of agreement as you shook your head, reading the first question, “I don’t know. These are questions that made me think about my answer.”

“Okay, oo. This is a good one. What movie animal is my dog named after?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this.” Drew told you but you shook your head in disagreement, “I’ve mentioned it before but I think it was when you guys first met him.”

“The adventures of Milo and Otis?” Chase asked and Madison agreed but you shook your head. Both Austin and Drew leaned forward to try and read the car but you quickly pulled away, tucking the card against your chest, “Cheaters!”

“What movie has a dog named Milo in it?”

“Oh! The mask! His dogs name is Milo!” Rudy answered and you flipped your card, showing ‘The Mask’, “I’m a huge Jim Carrey fan and since Milo is also a jack russell, it was fate.”

“Oo, you guys are never going to get this one,” you laughed, reading the card, “it literally took me so long to even think about this one. When I was 5, I jumped off the banister and had to get stitches. Where were the stitches?”

Everyone looked over at Drew, who would be the only one to remotely know the answer but he just tilted his head at you in thought.

“Your head?” Madelyn asked but you shook your head, “Nope. My sister did though. Cracked her head open.”

“How are you and your sister still alive?” Austin asked, looking at you in surprise as you shrugged before writing your answer on the card.

“Your legs?” JD asked, snapping his fingers at you

“Nope. Not even close.”

Drew clapped his hands once as he looked over at you, “Your tongue. You bit through your tongue and had to get 6 stitches.”

“Your tongue?!?” Madison asked, looking over at you in shock as you flipped your card, showing the answer, “Yes. I smacked my chin on the arm of the couch and bit right through my tongue. My tongue was stuck and I had to get stitches.”

“You just need to live in a bubble at this point, girl.” Carlacia laughed as everyone agreed with her.

“What do I think is the grossest thing a person can do?”

“THROWING UP!” Drew and JD shouted at the same time as they high fived. You cringed as you showed your card that read ‘throwing up’ as the answer.

“I hate throwing up. I hate the way I feel before, during, and after. It’s just so gross and gives me the ick.” You shuddered as Austin patted your leg, “The first time she threw up in front of us, she cried because of how grossed out she was.”

“That was traumatizing for all of us,” Rudy explained, “we were out on a boat and she just went very pale and threw up. Everywhere. We had no idea what had happened and then she just started bawling her eyes out. We all started panicking, thinking something was wrong but then she said how she hated throwing up and it just…it killed the whole vibe.”

You chucked the marker cap at Rudy, who ducked but went to retrieve it, “Sorry that being seasick killed the vibe, dillhole.”

Letting out a laugh at the nest question, you looked over at Drew and shook your head, “you’re not allowed to answer this one. You’ll get the answer right away.”

“I’ve known all of these, baby,” he winked and your face went red as you hid it behind the card, “just trying to give them a chance.”

“You guys gross me out.” Madelyn teased, looking between you two

“What is my favorite show to binge?” You asked, but you wrote down two possible answers.

“That 70s show is one.” Chase answered, “I always hear the theme song in your trailer and you quote it constantly.”

“You also watch the walking dead a lot too.” JD added, pointing to Chase, “you yell at your laptop a lot.”

“Dude, you have no idea how long it took me to get used to her yelling at the tv.” Drew told him, “the first time she did it, I thought she was pissed at me for no reason but she was just watching the walking dead.”

Everyone started talking about how into your shows you get, causing you to hold up your hands in protest, “Okay, okay! There’s nothing wrong with being passionate about movie and tv shows. But yes, that 70s show and the walking dead are my go to.”

“Two complete opposite shows, by the way.” Madison pointed out

“Oo, how many tattoos do I have?”

Everyone went quiet as they stared at you, no doubt picturing the tattoos that laid under your clothes. You had been purposely asked to wear a long sleeve top and pants to not let them get the answer so easily.

“I wanna say…12?” Carlacia asked, tilting her head at you, “Most of them are on your right arm but I know you have a few on your left. You have the fairy wings on your back…”

“I know you have a dinosaur on your leg because I drew a hat on it last week.” Austin answered, causing you to look up from writing your answer, furrowing your eyebrows at him, “you drew a hat on Terrance?”

“You named the dinosaur Terrance?” JD laughed as you nodded, “Terrance the triceratops.”

“Terry, for short.” Drew added, pointing at you as you nodded

“I wanna say 10 or 15.” Madison said, leaning forward, “I know you got P4L after season 2 came out.”

“You only had like 2 when the show started.”

“There’s a few you guys don’t know about cause they’re always covered.” You told them, going over your answer. Drew didn’t even miss a beat with his response, “Well, they don’t. But I do.”

“Okay! Who’s next?!”

#outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks imagines #rafe obx #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron smut #obx #obx rafe #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagines #obx rafe cameron #obx3 #outer banks x reader #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x reader

3K notes · View notes

notaplaceofhonour · 2 months

Text

I was raised in the People of Destiny cult (later renamed, and more well-known as, Sovereign Grace Ministries, now Sovereign Grace Churches).

The valorization of martyrdom and The End Times was so ubiquitous it was ambient noise. We stood in the church lobby theorizing about who the antichrist would be, we argued about whether Jesus would rapture us all before, after, or during the Tribulation Period where Satan would be given free reign over the earth. There was a strong Christian Zionist fixation on Israel as the final battleground and capital of the coming Messianic Age. But the one thing we were all certain of was is that we were in the End Times, that we were not of this world and couldn’t get too attached to our lives here.

We were raised to believe our sin nature made us undeserving of life, that we deserved death and eternal conscious torture.

My parents read us the Jesus Freaks books (a series by Christian Rap group DC Talk about martyrs). I spent “devotional time” reading Fox’s Book of Martyrs. We had guest speakers from Voice of the Martyrs, their pamphlets were often stocked in our church’s information center. We grew up with our dad listening to right wing talk radio and making us listen to songs about how the Godless atheists were outlawing Christianity in America, that we could all become martyrs soon.

The group’s theology was damaging & traumatic in a lot of other ways that contributed to the suicidality I have continued to struggle with for the rest of my life. For a long time I did not believe I would live past 20. There are times when the idea of giving my death meaning by using public suicide to make a political statement has appealed to me.

So now, seeing so many social media posts glorifying the suicide of a US Airman this week, I have been furious. Reading his social media posts, I recognize so much about the way I was raised in his all-or-nothing, black-or-white mindset, the valorization of death-seeking & martyrdom, and the apocalyptic fire-and-brimstone imagery of self-immolation. The moment I saw people I followed celebrating his self-immolation, I said to myself “this feels like a cult”

So when I learned he was raised in a cult too, nothing could have made more sense to me. His political orientation may have changed, but his mindset did not—it was no less extreme or cult-like.

I’ve talked about so many of the reasons this response from the broader left scares me, including how it’s laundering that airman’s antisemitic beliefs, but I cannot think of anything that would hit me in a more personal place than this specific response to this specific situation has.

When I see the images, I think: that could have been me. That scares me, and what scares me more is that so many prominent people are overwhelmingly sending the message to people like me that there is nothing else we can do that would have a more meaningful impact than killing ourselves for the cause.

I do not believe that. I will not even entertain it. And having to see his death over and over and over again, to argue against people who are treating this like an intellectual/moral exercise or a valid debate we all have to consider has been immensely triggering and fills me with a rage I rarely feel. It’s unconscionable that we are even putting self-harm on the table, and that pushing back against that is somehow controversial.

There is hope. Our lives do have meaning. There are far more effective means of fighting injustice. And the world is a better place for having you in it. Don’t fall into believing this is a way to give life purpose.

389 notes · View notes

artemismoorea03 · 9 months

Text

DP x DC: Deaths Song

Mostly have DC in mind for this one but again, it could work for Marvel too.

Danny is quiet no matter which form he's in. He's quiet and withdrawn from the rest - sure when they ask him a question or it's a topic he knows stuff about or interested about he can go on forever! Typical traumatized teenager with big interests and no outlet.

He's as helpful around the house as he is on the streets, helping Alfred reach the otherwise impossible crevices of the manor which would otherwise only get cleaned twice a year. He doesn't complain and will often offer his help just to keep busy.

It's during one of these 'spring cleaning' events that Alfred hears it for the first time.

Danny is singing.

It's quiet and muttered, but it's there. Alfred doesn't comment and instead listens to the voice as it stays soft. It's hard to tell from where he is standing but from what he can tell it sounds like he's singing in another language.

He discovers later it's French.

One by one the rest of the Bat-Fam catch Danny or Phantom mindlessly singing when he's doing something absent mindedly or when he doesn't think anybody is listening. Each time it's a different language which is impressive on it's own but what they're more focused on is the fact that Danny feels safe enough to sing.

Like a bird once caged and trapped he was finally starting to share his songs once again.

The Justice League has no idea about Danny's past though, just one of many tightly guarded secrets about the newest member's history. They know he's half-human, that he protected Amity park for years without any help from outside sources but they have no idea about the hells he went through.

So while they're all reading through debriefs and looking through paper after paper they're all caught off guard when he starts gently singing to himself once again. It's in English this time and just an absent minded action which Batman had grown used to.

It made the others freeze though and look towards Phantom as he continues singing, completely unaware of his own actions as he floats above his chair, laying in thin air as though there was a table under him.

In the end it's Flash who breaks the silence, not by commenting on the singing but instead joining in as he goes through his own paperwork. Phantom tenses, looks at Flash as the other members look down but as Flash continues Phantom starts singing again.

One by one the league joins in, even those who hadn't originally lived on Earth had learned the iconic song and those who hadn't learned it quickly enough.

Soon the paperwork was forgotten as the energy in the Watch Tower got more and more energetic, as Phantom and Flash were the first ones who got out of their seats to dance but they were far from the last. Captain Marvel joined in and little by little others did. They broke their character little by little.

Something Batman couldn't understand until he saw the look on Phantom's face. A genuine toothy grin surrounded by almost teary grins of some of the heroes. They weren't acting like fools because they had too much energy but because in the minds of the Justice League they were making a dead kid smile.

"Come on, B! Join in!" Flash said, and Batman sighed.

He was the last one at the table but the look on his newest sons face was impossible to ignore. Finally he got up and stood by Danny, humming softly and clapping while the others continued to sing and even do the actions along with the song.

Later, long after the meeting was over and they were getting ready to leave somebody made the comment;

"Who would have thought the Song of the Dead was YMCA."

Which caused Danny to bend over with wheezing laughter.

#dp x dc #dpxdc prompt #my prompts #dc x dp prompt

663 notes · View notes

ddoxhan · 28 days

Text

all I wanna do

like a rain shower in midsummer, I need you cuz all I wanna do is be with you

word count : 5.3k words

genre : fluff revolving around two goofballs; scriptwriter! ningning x office worker! reader; experiencing a disastrous date won't stop you from planning the best date for the love of your life

t/w : none :)

a/n : a light-hearted, playful date with ms ning yizhuo! imagine her laughters throughout the entire thing and just seeing how happy she is being with you 🤍 I love this baby so much :') anyways enjoy !!

outfit? check. water bottles? check. portable fan? check. power bank? check. umbrella? check. snacks for your pretty girlfriend? check. after that disastrous date with yizhuo last time, you were traumatized hence the over-the-board preparation for today's date with her. you had planned a lot of events for the day, hoping that she would be surprised with how you made sure things were to go according to plan. her reactions are just the cutest and no one can tell you otherwise.

regardless of whether it was going to rain, or if you lose her in a crowd as her phone dies, or if she gets incredibly hungry that she's in the mood to murder you. yes, that was how the entire date went the last time when you two headed for a mini concert in the outskirts. just thinking about it again sent chills down your spine. never again, you thought.

as you take a step out of your apartment, that annoying ringtone informed you of who the caller was.

"yeah, babe?"

'on the way? or you just woke up and getting ready to throw on just anything?'

"missy, I'm slaying my fit of the year. and yes, I'm on my way. maybe in another thirty minutes?"

'okay, missy. sounds good to me, see you then babe!'

"love you."

'love you too!'

her voice got softer, as usual walking away from her phone to do her own things. she usually lets you end the call, either you'd end it while chuckling at her antics or listening a little longer to hear her humming a song that's on her 36th spotify playlist.

the sun was shining, the clouds were fluffy, and the bus just passed by the stop before heading for yours. was it more than enough time for you to make it? sure, but, that was if you ran for it. you were definitely not waiting for the next one that was going to be in the next 15 minutes.

the run wasn't too bad, giving you a chance to try out your new pair of sneakers. definitely not made for running, but they were sure looking amazing with your outfit. yizhuo had gotten them for you when you had finished that torturing physics paper one semester ago but you couldn't get yourself to wear them. she insisted that you wore it after she saw them in a new display box you got for it when she slept over after spending hours playing animal crossing with you.

'jagi, didn't I get those for you?'

'yep.'

'wear them when we go on a date next week.'

'but-'

'no buts.'

so that was how you were striding in these slides. they made you a little taller, which was the perfect height to pull yizhuo into a hug and rub your head on her hair. she hated those the most, but you love the scent of her vanilla shampoo, calming and soothing. as you stared out the bus window from your seat, your lips naturally curled into a smile as you reminisced those times when you and her took the bus home during your uni days.

when you had shared social law with her, you always took the bus with her after classes at the end of the day. you had known that she lived a little further from campus instead of the dorms and you happened to also take the same bus line as she did. acquaintances bloomed into friends, and you took your friendship with her to the next stage when you confessed that you saw her as more than a friend. you were the happiest girl alive when she said that she felt the same too.

when you had graduated with your psychology degree and her with her communication degree, that was when you found out that yizhuo had not lived three bus stops away from yours. and that was also when she had found out that you lived two bus stops before where she supposedly lived. in summary, you were two idiots thinking that you guys were so smart for trying to fool each other.

she did indeed live in the campus dorm, but just got down the stop where her friend lived at, in a way using her as an excuse to spend more time with you. you on the other hand, did similarly to spend more time with her by pretending that you got off at the next stop after hers. for four months straight, you had took a whole trip around the neighbourhood each time you had social law.

till this day, this was still something that you and her would bring up and laugh about at how stupid you two were. but you didn't complain, you were stupid in love with her.

a ring on yizhuo's doorbell was enough to make her frown from finishing her favourite shampoo to smiling as it indicated that her huggable human was by the door. when she swung the door open, she was surprised to find you with a bouquet of crocheted pink tulips and a puffy tote bag. first, you hated tote bags because you were afraid of forgetting them on your seat. second, what occasion was it for the flowers?

"hello, girlfriend."

"hello to you too. what's with the flowers?"

a toothy grin was all it took to convince that it wasn't a special occasion that she knew, but rather one that you wanted to celebrate because, you just wanted to.

"it's 520 days since we've started dating. so yeah, happy 520!"

"and here I thought that I had forgotten our anniversary or something."

"well, it's still something to celebrate about."

if yizhuo had her clumsy and quirky antics, you had your puppy-like and unpredictable antics. it wasn't once or twice that you had showed up to her front door with tulips or roses, be it real or fake, or crocheted. or that one time you had a spur in the moment and made her beef wellington for lunch. you didn't even like cooking that much.

'I saw this recipe and I thought you would like it a lot!' as she quotes from you.

but none of that can stop her from loving you more as each day went by. the good morning and good night texts were a must and meeting up at least once every day was the base, whether it be face-to-face or through facetime. as much as she could feel her fatigue from her day fade away when she saw that smile of yours, so did you when you heard that laughter of hers when you crack a joke.

"thank you, babe. I like it a lot."

she tiptoed to press a little peck on your cheek, which led to that big ass grin on your face and your tail would have wagged hard like a helicopter, if you had one. seeing your usual reaction, yizhuo went back to her room to proceed getting ready for the day. oh, did you mention that she looks amazing even when she had her hair up in a messy bun, and the most worn out, comfortable home clothes? yeah, now you know.

as you took your spot on the couch, it didn't take her longer than 20 minutes to be in the cutest outfit for your anticipated outing. the opening of her bedroom door prompted you to stand by the shoe rack and put your shoes on.

"ready?"

"mhm."

after you leaving her place, she naturally headed over to the bus stop while you stepped further from it, making her confused at the way you had a mischievous smile on your face. you walked over to her and dragged her along to the nearest car rental shop, rendering her further confusion.

leaving her at the entrance for a bit, you returned while twirling a shiny key with a far too recognizable logo printed on it,

"I knew we were going to the aquarium, but you didn't mention anything about driving there. when did you even have a driver's license?"

"well, surprise."

driving wasn't a practical option since you lived four bus stops away from your now alma mater. public transportation was a pain in the ass during before and after work peak hours but that was more worth than paying for the parking fee. that included having not told yizhuo about your driving capabilities.

your campus was practically in the middle of the city where most necessities were within public transportation reach. it didn't really matter if you had a car or not cause that was how convenient travelling for stuff was. if there was a need for a car, you would just ask minjeong for hers since she drives. even now, you could get to your job without a car, and you only head to office 3 days a week.

"and you rented a BMW?"

"yes?"

the look on her face darkened further as she couldn't comprehend your spending tendencies. you weren't a thrifty douchebag, so this was really a firsthand experience of you being willing to spend so much when there were cheaper options.

"please tell me you're joking. this could easily cost you half of your monthly salary for a day."

"okay okay, yes, I'm joking."

"thank god."

" but I did buy a kawasaki though."

yizhuo's jaw could not drop further as you said those seven words. she couldn't even form words, let alone sentences.

"wha- huh- you- eh?"

"come on, I got a second hand one so it's a lot cheaper. and it was a snatch with its low mileage."

the whole ride to the aquarium was just her bombarding you with questions on why you decided to get a motorcycle, when did you get your driver's license and a whole lot more. the entire ride there. though you weren't annoyed, you found it adorable that she wanted to know more. you being down bad was an understatement, you were just so in love with her that you don't see any chance of you getting back from being down bad.

you sure didn't need a second hand kawasaki to get to work considering the many reasons that would have stopped you from getting it. but there was one extremely big reason to get it that surpass every other. it was yizhuo. at the end of every day where you would drop by her place to spend time together, she would tell you about the things she encountered on the way home on the train, be it good or bad.

you were content with listening to how she would coo at the children and babies she saw, but grimaced at some things she would witness that you don't even want to reiterate. just then you thought, maybe you should get a vehicle to fetch yizhuo after work. as a scriptwriter, the expectation to get things done by her deadlines were brutal, from your nine-to-five job perspective. at times, she would finish past dinner hours and leave the broadcasting station with slumping shoulders while you waited for her at a nearby cafe to have dinner together after she clocks out. it always made a part of your heart ache a little when she drapes her body over you, with her basking in your scent.

she had always reassured you that she would feel her energy pick up when she spots you at your usual spot waiting. and even more so when she hugs you, as if you were her human energizer. but to imagine the days that you wouldn't be there, it was the right decision to get a vehicle for her to relax in after work on the way home. regardless of whether it was this nice BMW or the kawasaki you got, you get to accompany her back home while she talks about her day at the broadcasting station.

to head home together after a long day and lay in her arms on the couch while watching a movie was always your dream. usually her housemates would be around and it wasn't that comfortable to have the whole living room to yourselves. you would either leave after dropping her off or you would spend some time in her room for a while since she would reason that you have work the next day. one day, you would get a house together with her and make that dream a reality. one day.

"for me? this nice ass bike because you wanted me to get home safe?"

"yep."

she looked at you in disbelief, worried that the cost of this damn bike would put a hole in your wallet while you had a sheepish smile knowing exactly what she had in mind.

"I know it sounds crazy but trust me, I've planned this for a long time."

"how long?"

"roughly 5 years."

as yizhuo mentally counted, she figured that that was when you were still freshmen back in university. although she was flattered by the fact that you fell for her since then, she couldn't help but feel bad. and you knew she would from the way her smile fell a little, just enough for you to be able to tell.

"don't feel bad babe. I did say it's for you, but it's also for me, for us. it's a lot better than having to squeeze into the train and having body odour rubbed all over my face."

the joke managed to lift her mood as she giggles at the way she could relate too. well, you could say that this kawasaki was a dream motorcycle that you've had your eye on for some time now too. her hand reached over to yours on the gear stick, her eyes looking into yours, feeling that she was the luckiest girlfriend on earth.

"you're welcome, and let's go see those penguins, shall we?"

"welcome to underwater haven, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! I will be your guide today, so make sure to remember how I look like. you wouldn't wanna get lost and bump into the polar bear."

the crowd laughed at the humor of the male guide, before following to enter into the aquarium for the day.

in one hand, was your professional camera to capture the beauty of the animals (as well as your girlfriend), and yizhuo's hand intertwined with yours in the other. although she was more fond of furry animals in the petting zoos, she absolutely loved the way your eyes would sparkle when you tell her about your favourite aquatic animals that even she had managed to remember by now. you looked like an excited child jumping around and she just wants to give you all the kisses that you deserved for being so cute.

"oh! that's the angelfish. isn't it such a nice shade of pastel blue? and the way they just look so pretty."

"yes yes, very pretty."

and her gaze was just fixated on your smile that hasn't fell ever since you stepped foot in here. she couldn't give a damn about all these fishes that looked the same to her. all it did was make her crave for some good sushi, but she shall not talk about that while you're here. maybe in the next few days, she should bring it up. for now, she would enjoy this aquarium date.

"did you have fun?"

"mhm. did you? weren't you bored a little halfway?"

"I mean yeah but when I look over to you, wow best day ever."

you shot yizhuo a glare before relaxing when you knew that she had eyes only for you.

"I love you too."

that sheepish smile on her face made you chuckle at the way you found it cute, realization for the nth time that you would never be able to win against her. be it her random rendezvous at odd hours or cheeky remarks like this.

"so where would lunch be, ms. 'I have a BMW now so we can go anywhere we want'?"

she's just not gonna let you breathe huh?

"well, it is a thursday today. so you know what that means."

"the bazaar!"

the first time she found out about the bazaar, she had always gone there either alone since her friend had clashing schedules or would resort to the cafeteria food which she disliked a little. after knowing you through social law, she deciced to persuade you to accompany her there.

'you mean be your chaperone?'

'I wouldn't put it that way, think of it that you're there as my food mate.'

it was a weekly food bazaar that happened at the city square, filled with all kinds of food from all around the world. yizhuo was always down to try anything that was edible, while you were just there to be with her as you didn't fancy trying new things.

'come on! try this, the vendor said it's glutinous rice cooked in a bamboo tube.'

'it looks questionable.'

but to be honest, it did taste good. while she had a habit of ordering a variety to try, she wouldn't hesitate to share it with her friends, encouraging them to head to the bazaar to try out too. when you looked back and thought about it, she was also helping out the local businesses that had a hard time. she tried to deny, giving you the reason that they had better food that whatever the cafeteria served. however, you would notice each time you stood by her while she talked to the vendors. the way her eyes fold into crescents, truly grateful that they were doing great.

as you spent more time with her throughout your days, you harbored feelings for her and they just grew out of control when you would malfunction from being around her. you were there once as an acquaintance, now you were back there again, as her girlfriend. wow, thinking about it made you feel overwhelmed.

"are you sure we're able to finish this?"

"if we can't, we could bring it over for minjeong."

"I'm pretty sure she would be too full from lunch with jimin. you know how those two are."

"well, I guess this is all for us!"

just watching yizhuo enjoy the food in front of her made you feel as if you had ate. if your girlfriend was happily full, then so were you. at some point, the vendors didn't change often, and they soon became permanent at the bazaar, being able to find a crowd of customers for themselves. you didn't remember how it happened, but when yizhuo would always recommend it to the people around her, you knew who it was because of.

"what? is there anything on my face?"

your gentle gaze had her rub the sides of her mouth, then her cheeks. full of food while she mumbles, it was just a sight too adorable. you succeeded at holding back your urge to squeeze her cheeks, or you would end up with a flick on your forehead.

"nothing, you just look really pretty."

"thank you, but I can't tell if you're being sarcastic cause I am stuffing my face full of food right now."

"nothing beats a happy girlfriend who loves her food. and it's cute."

extending a hand over to clear that sauce stain on the corner of her mouth, you looked so lovesick, it almost made the people at the table on the right gag. what did single people do to be punished like this?

you would only cut it out with the lovey dovey eyes when yizhuo made sure that you were eating enough unlike when you were in your final year. that final year research paper had you lose 5kg throughout the journey and you wish to not experience that ever again. sleep was an option and so was food. if it wasn't for her threatening to have your meals properly or she would not see you again, you would have probably fainted at least twice that year.

so now, you have a wonderful girlfriend and a stomach full of good food. the day was going spectacularly smooth without any problems. but you spoke too soon when the sun had set and night had came.

after the bazaar lunch, you were to drive to a restaurant by the beach that yizhuo had really wanted to try but didn't insist on going as it was far. since you had rented a car, it was only right to bring her there. before night would fall, it would have been perfect to enjoy the sunset by the time you would have arrived considering the journey.

that was until the car started to smoke on the front all of a sudden. pulling over to the side of the road, you had to call for help from the nearest car repair shop to send a tow truck. you weren't going to risk driving there despite it being a short distance, not with her in the car.

as the tow truck arrived along with another car, you thanked the foreman for offering to drive you two to your destination when he couldn't get you a spare car. nevertheless, you managed to reach just in time to sit by the beach to admire the sunset with yizhuo. that was before it got windy and droplets of rain turned into a downpour.

"why is it always like this whenever we decide to go out for dates?"

she was feeling a little down from the mishaps from the car to the downpour. to be frank, you were too, since you had hoped that the date ended perfectly since she had looked forward to it a lot. although she didn't verbally express her excitement, you could tell from the way she had already put together an outfit for the day a week before and marked the date on her calendar with a big red circle and hearts around it.

"babe, things happen. plus it was my fault that I didn't check the car properly before today."

"it's not your fault, like you said things happen. just why on our dates..."

you were half soaked from the rain even with an umbrella. as you sought shelter at nearby shop, yizhuo wasn't soaked as much because you had wrapped yourself over her to make sure she didn't. that also made her a little more upset as she was scared you would get sick because of her. on the brighter side, you were at a vintage shop where they had quite a collection of film cameras. you had to take the opportunity to get one from here before you left. but first, back to making your girlfriend feel better.

"hey hey, babe. look at me."

you placed your hands on her cheeks and made her face you, squishing them a little. around her colleagues, she was competent and very professional when dealing with the producers and directors at her workplace. but when she comes home and relaxes around you, she would turn into a small little kitten that needed her favourite human pillow. just like how you had her pouting and leaning into your hands.

"things don't have to always go as planned. it's best if it did, but now that it didn't. we're here at this vintage shop and it looks like there's a lot of stuff to explore around here."

"sure we missed the sunset for a little, but we stumbled upon this place."

and with that, your girlfriend was back to her normal self.

"okay, but promise me you're not going to get too many things. nothing else is going to fit that glass case."

"yes, ma'am."

giving her a tiny salute and a cheeky smile, it was another mission success of making the best out of a (sorta) ruined date.

"I did mention not to get too many things, but you did get something that was very expensive."

"but it does take really good film pictures. plus, a good camera to fit the most beautiful model in the world."

yizhuo scoffed at the compliment but couldn't help but blush a little. thankfully, the downpour had come to a stop, only a small drizzle remained.

as you headed towards the restaurant that you had made reservation for, you couldn't help but feel super lucky at that moment as the sky was still lit and the ambience of the waves hitting the shore, as well as the drizzle adding its touch. along with the beautiful sight of her while her hair is blown by the wind, that gorgeous smile making you fall for her all over again.

arriving there, you were brought to your reserved table before ordering whatever she wanted on the menu. the wait wasn't too long, which was good as it was quite eventful before this meal. as you indulged in the local delicacies, you couldn't help asking yizhuo if she was in for some alcohol. and knowing her, she wouldn't pass on the offer.

you only drank a little as you would still need to drive back, as the foreman had mentioned that it wouldn't take till the next day to fix the car. just as you wrapped up your fulfilling meal, your phone rang, indicating the caller to be the foreman.

"yes, mr. lee. is the car done?"

"I'm very sorry miss, but I've called to inform you that we've come across another problem from the engine as we looked into it earlier. we would need another day for it as we are closing soon."

"ohh... umm... alright then. we'll look around for somewhere to stay for the time being. thank you very much."

hearing how you would need to look for somewhere to stay and seeing that apologetic smile plastered on your lips, yizhuo just knew that the plans for the day had changed for third time.

"we need to look for a motel?"

"hey! you don't need to put it that way."

the ends of your ears started burning a little as you hid your face in your hands, trying to lower the rising temperature of your cheeks. her word choice had caught you very off guard while she remained calm.

"it is what it is. plus, we could get separate rooms so why so shy?"

she was definitely having a great time teasing you.

you managed to find a decent place after asking the locals. but being there on the weekends only meant that there was no such things as vacancy. however, you still decided to shoot your shot, praying for two rooms.

"we've got only one room left, with a single bed."

and you definitely didn't expect that shot to miss entirely. it was better than no rooms at all, and it meant using the same room as yizhuo. you had to repeat that to yourself several times to fully register what you had heard. number 1, you had not slept over at her place before as you didn't want her housemates to feel uncomfortable with your unfamiliar presence. number 2, it would only be you and her in a room. nothing would probably happen, given that you would be sleeping on the couch.

"where are you going?"

"to sleep...?"

drying your hair with the provided towel, you glanced over to your girlfriend who already dried her hair and changed into a set of pajamas that you had got from a nearby shop. you were in a similar one with a different color, reminding you too much of what married couples would usually where in dramas. 'enough!', you thought.

as much as you wanted to wake the next morning in your arms, you held yourself back as it might make her uneasy. what if she's not used to sharing the bed with someone? what if she thinks it would be hot? what if you snore? what if―

before you could complete all the possible scenarios from overthinking, yizhuo stretched out her arms, telling you to hug her. and so you did. as you fell for her temptation, she pulled you in closer to make you fall onto the bed. as she leaned over to place her lips on yours, your brain short-circuited with too many things happening at once. pulling away, all she saw was a shocked puppy speechless and thoughtless.

"you good?"

"huh?"

"were you going to sleep on the couch?"

"yeah..."

it was as if you lost your ability to speak because all you could do was nod or give short answers to her questions. well, you were being considerate for your girlfriend in case she didn't want to share the bed with you and you were more than willing to let her have the bed for herself. after all, the bed wasn't the biggest and it was just fitting for two people, no more, no less. but she didn't mind at all.

"why when we could just sleep together?"

you hit her a few times for her choice of words and she just wondered what she said so wrong. 'sleep together', technically you were going to sleep together but not sleep together. there was a difference, but you were just being overly sensitive from the way that your body was in close proximity with yizhuo.

it wasn't like you didn't cuddle with her before in the living room while watching dramas and movies. it wasn't like you didn't hug her every single time you would leave by the end of the day. it wasn't like she wasn't already clingy and always finding an excuse to stick right next to you, be it be holding hands or just pulling you into a bear hug. but why was this time so different just because it was on a bed?

"you could take this as practice before we get married in the future."

right, that was why it made you so fidgety and anxious like a teenage girl who was in love with her first love. true enough, she was your first love, if you were to minus out the short fling back in high school that wasn't even a relationship nor situationship.

your relationship had not even turned 2 years old and yizhuo already had confidence in that you would marry her when the time comes. and she was darn right that you would. that day just sealed the deal where you definitely couldn't see yourself spending the rest of your life with someone else other than her.

the way she would enjoy your rants about sea animals that she couldn't care less, the way she reminds you about spending too much, the way she held your hand throughout the whole date.

although she wasn't interested in the many species of fishes that you knew, she didn't complain about it and just enjoyed how you were ecstatic about them. she would nag you a little about getting too many vintage cameras when you wouldn't even use some of them, but she knew that every single one you've bought had at least taken one picture of her. she knew that physical affection wasn't your way of expression where gift giving and words of affirmation was, she made sure that you felt hers.

just like this very moment, you could feel it through the way her gaze bores into your eyes, letting you know that she loved you as much as you did for her, if not more.

"okay, if you say so, wifey."

"oh? already agreeing to the proposal?"

"no way, I will be the one proposing to you in the best way possible when that day comes."

"but does that mean you want to marry me?"

yizhuo was glad to see how you snapped out of your trance with the playful banter between you and her. not only that, your string of thoughts had brought you to a conclusion that sounded like the best one to your life story.

"yes, ms. ning yizhuo. I would love to marry you."

"cause all I wanna do is be with you."

#ningning #ning yizhuo #aespa #aespa fluff #aespa imagines #aespa scenarios #aespa x reader #ningning x reader #Spotify

154 notes · View notes

shesjustanothergeek · 1 year

Text

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Three

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Before you read this chapter, I want to tell y'all I am perfectly aware of how messed up this is. But if the male writers of Game of Thrones can show graphic depictions of sexual assault and get away with it, why can't I show something messed up but empowering? They literally showed sexual assault as a good thing because the trauma can "empower" a woman. How about a girl finding strength in her body and pleasure? Now, let's traumatize these men back. >:}

Also, I find it a bit humorous that the reader is wearing something like this during this entire chapter. Also, I made a playlist of songs that I listened to while writing this story.

Chapter Warnings: minor x minor sexual situations, CNC, we do not follow SSC here, folks. (safe, sane, and consensual.)

Aegon led you up a dark sandstone staircase worn from thousands of years of use, turning his head back periodically with a wide grin. You knew he was leading you to the Streets of Silk, where the high-end brothels were, not the type Ma ran. It was something interesting you found with Aegon, how he chose to forgo the upscaled silken sheets with finely dressed whores that most of the High Born frequented. But he, the first-born son of King Viserys Targaryen, First of Men, King of the Andals, and Protector of the Realms, choose to sink his royal cock into the cunts of lice-ridden women. You did not mind Aegon choosing something as malapropos as that, for if his tastes were better, you would have never met him.

"Come, little one, we are nearly there," he encouraged, squeezing your hand briefly and kissing it. The simple act made your cheeks hot, a hue of red blooming from your nose to your ears as your short legs struggled to stay in step.

You felt giddy with a man's affection, a feeling you had not experienced in many years. Ma had never let you grow close to a person near your age, always promptly snatching you away and telling your acquaintances to "get lost" or deal with the consequences. No child had ever dared to become friends after that. You had only Madam and the Ladies of the House until the unsightly curly, white-haired prince made his appearance.

Aegon led you down sharp turns and uneven ground, squeezing your fist every moment he felt you got too far behind. Despite the fast walking, his legs were shaking, his knees nearly buckling under him when his shoe got caught on a loose rock. You chuckled when you helped him up. His excitement was contagious. You could not help but feel the same, your cloaks billowing out behind you.

"Where are we going, my Prince?" You asked sweetly, biting your lip in anticipation. Aegon noticed you didn't use the title as an insult this time but as a... flirtation. Were you flirting with him, he wondered.

"Have patience, little one; we are only fifty paces away," he chortled, stopping for a moment and patting your hand in reassurance.

"I find it peculiar that you know the precise distance," you jested.

Jested? Jested! Aegon nearly died from happiness at the realization. Someone, who had no incentive to be kind to him, was treating him like a friend. Like he was not the royal cunt drunk fuck-up everyone claimed he was. You were so beautiful, kind, and innocent. And best of all, you were his. None of the other Targaryen knew of your existence, other than Daemon. Perhaps if his family had known about you, bastard or not, Aegon could have been betrothed to you and not that half-wit bug-obsessed sister he now called wife.

Aegon supposed things did happen for a purpose, though. If you had been raised as part of your actual family, you would most likely feel the same as all of them about him. You were too perfect, sent from the Gods, plucked from the very clouds he prayed to and placed into his wanting, needing lap. An angel finally leading him out of the purgatory he called life.

"We're here," he stated in finality, gesturing for you to look at the building.

It was much larger than Ma's. Whereas hers was built from solid oak wood and a straw-thatched roof, this was constructed from a smooth stone. Burnt steel braziers with yellow-orange flames lit the dark entrance, dancing off of Aegon's pale, veiny hand as he knocked. A woman with deep midnight hair cascading down her exposed tanned skin opened the door, hugging the frame as her golden dress did to her curves. You could see Aegon's purple eyes blown with lust as he drank her in, unabashedly wetting his lips.

She smiled, perfectly white teeth showing through her painted lips as she did the same to Aegon. More likely sizing up the potential profit in her head rather than his appearance. Then she looked at you, her smile dropping and full black eyebrows furrowing. You didn't know whether she was displeased at another woman being here, somehow seeing you as competition, or because you seemed so young. Being sized up as if you were any predator unnerved you. You were just a daughter of a whore, raised on moldy bread and stolen apples, not someone to be seen as a rival. You hid behind Aegon, intimidated by the beautiful woman's stare, and tightened your grip on his hand.

He chuckled, more at the fact you were so intimidated by an older woman's disapproving glance you sought him for protection as if he wasn't the very thing that brought you into this situation.

"Do not worry, sweet thing; Mila will not hurt you. The bitch's bark is worse than her bite." You were surprised by his brazen disrespect for the woman who might service him tonight, but she didn't seem fazed.

"This is not the first time you have brought another with you here, your grace, but never one so young, so..." Mila sucked her teeth in disapproval, raking her eyes over what she could see, "so inexperienced." Her insults upset you, and you moved from behind Aegon.

"Do not take age as a lack of experience, woman. I grew up with the sounds of women moaning and men begging to cum. It was my lullaby."

You brushed past her, deliberately bumping your shoulder into hers as you entered the brothel. You didn't need to look at her face to know you got a reaction from her—Aegon's snickering as he followed in after you were assurance enough. He knew that small demeanor could not last long, not in his hatchling.

Music filled the brothel, and the soft murmurs of people chatting amongst themselves melted into the songs, creating a gentle hum in the air. All you could see was gold. Gold walls, chairs, lounge seats, gold pitchers, and chalices of Arbor Red and green liquid as people flited along the main room. Shiny curtain dividers of the same palette divided private rooms as you entered further, the moans and pants becoming louder. Three more women came up, all dressed in varying shades of cream, tan, and gold, taking your cloaks and giving you and Aegon goblets.

It was nice. You could understand the appeal of a man such as Aegon devoting their time to a place like this. They treated you like royalty even when you were not. You were not used to being the one dotted on, usually watching from afar before Madam snatched you away and locked you in your room.

"My Prince," the lithe blonde one said, eyes a stormy grey as she bowed. "It is a pleasure to see you again. It has been so long." She took his hand, leading him to an empty bench as the second girl ushered you close behind. "And I see you have brought a guest with you." Her voice was tight as she addressed you, pursing her lips in an almost pity-like emotion.

Aegon released a breathy laugh, moving his fingers to lace with yours, smiling. "Yes, she is my companion for the evening. I expect her to receive the same treatments you would give me, as she is an extension of my crown tonight."

The girls shared a look, expressions, and wordless conversations thrown at each other before they decided to nod and smile.

"Of course. Whatever our Prince desires shall be given," the brunette nodded. "What shall we get you started tonight, your grace? Wine, mead?" She asked.

Aegon grinned to himself, flipping through all the options of alcohol he could choose for his hatchling, then let out a puff of air with his decision. "The Green Fairy, I would like to start with that, wench."

This time, you could understand the expressions on the ladies' faces. They looked shocked, worried, and scared, even for you, at his drink of choice. They both nodded, not protesting his request, as they got the drink. When they returned, they were holding a different set of glasses. They were crystal, intricate designs that blew into the stem as they set the supplies down. The pitcher was also transparent, and you could see a deep emerald liquid. It was unfamiliar to you, having grown up with mainly bottomless red and purple drinks.

"What is The Green Fairy," you questioned Aegon, leaning closer to him so the girls couldn't hear.

"That is the common name for it, little one. It is called Absinthe, and it is absolutely delightful," he assured you. You hummed, shifting your body centimeters away from him, still nervous.

You continued to watch as the whores sorted the supplies. It was entrancing, a ritualistic setup for something as simple as a drink, gathering ornate spoons with holes in them and pouring the green contents into the cup. It seemed like something a High-Born would drink, so you were not surprised that Aegon chose it. The blonde gathered another pitcher, this one not from the same set, and asked Aegon how he would like it.

"You know how I like it, Carmilla," he retorted, and she gave a slight nod, getting a small wooden stick and lighting the tip on it with a candle flame.

She brought the stick to the Absinthe, creating a burst of fire before it disappeared as Aegon put his palm over it. You stared in awe, your mouth agape as he brought the glass to his nose, removing his hand and inhaling the vapors with a moan before swinging it back. He slammed the empty cup on the wooden table, grinning like a madman at the burn in his throat. You could tell he loved the feeling, a blush creeping up his neck to his ears from the heat.

"And how would the lady like it?" Carmilla asked, gesturing to you.

"I-" you began to stutter, but Aegon came to your rescue.

"The classic way. We would not want to scare my sweetling off from the drink, now, would we? She is not as well versed in The Fairy as I am." He playfully nudged your shoulder, making you giggle. You were sure your skin matched Aegon's, heat covering your entire face and ears with embarrassment. After you just went and said something to Mila, he said something like that.

The brunette grabbed the fancy silver spoon, placing a sugar cube as she poured the Absinthe over it, the liquid running through the holes and into the glass. She repeated the same process as she did with Aegon, grabbing a wood stick but lighting the sugar cube instead of the drink. You watched it carmelize, burning the alcohol off for a few seconds as she slowly poured water over it, careful not to go too fast. It was so beautiful, so mesmerizing, watching the browned sugar slowly melt into the cup. Drip, drip, dripping down until it was dissolved.

Aegon paid no mind to the show before him, staring intently at your whole face. Watching your mouth, brows, and nose scrunch up as your eyes danced across the scene, taking in the unfamiliar experience.

Once all the sugar was gone, you looked at Aegon expectantly, waiting for him to tell you what to do. The realization that you were looking to him-- him to guide you, made his cock harden.

Oh, his little dragon. The things he could show you.

"Drink it, little one," he urged, eyeing you with a jerk of his head. You gave him a half-hearted grin, unsure about the drink. You've, of course, had alcohol before. Most of the time, water was unsafe to drink unless collected from wells or the skies. You had it for almost every meal. Still so young, you did not like the taste but knew the necessity of it. You brought it to your nose, taking a whiff and recoiling your head in disgust, grimacing.

Aegon studied your face, watching your thoughts show themselves. It smelled like madness, reckless abandonment traveling inside your nostrils and bursting into your head, yet it was cool, calming, like the steel of a blade unsheathing from its scabbard. It is... an extraordinary thing.

Adorable.

He repeated the same motion, wordlessly telling you to try it anyways. Well, if Aegon could drink it without so much as a reaction, you could, too... probably.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself as you flung the glass into your mouth, gripping the stem as the alcohol burned your tongue and throat. At first, it wasn't bad, a savory flavor hitting your taste buds, like the herbs a tavern would smell of, but then, everything else came crashing, nearly making you spit out the liquid. Your body heated in embarrassment, tucking your chin to your chest as you tried to hide. Everyone at the table laughed, the two women who were less than enthused about your presence shrieking, gaining the attention of the other patrons in the main room.

Aegon refused to let you wallow in shame as he grabbed your wrist, yanking you up as he cheered. "She's done it," he yelled, looking at the several dozen pairs of eyes trained on you. "Well done, little one!"

The others couldn't help but gather in the celebration, walking closer to the group of you and congratulating you on whatever. Most were too drunk to care, just happy to be around the excitement. You could not help but laugh along, enjoying the attention, something you never got with Madam.

"Another," Aegon shouted as the women repeated the same ritual.

What felt like moments later, you found yourself lying between Aegon's legs on a private bed, your back to his chest, his fingers playing with your frizzy hair and tracing up and down your arm. The room was hazy, but you didn't care. You were too far down in the feeling of his touch. You sighed into him, your glass replaced by some Dornish wine instead of The Green Fairy. You could not feel the burn anymore, tipping back the red drink, some slipping past your lips and down your throat. Your motor skills were sluggish, but your senses were heightened, hearing, feeling every sound and touch, nerves of fire through your body.

Serval women lay next to you, sleepy from the festivities or drunk like you were. Aegon had the tolerance of ten men. You found out after ignorantly challenging him to a duel of cups, which of course, you lost, much to your chagrin.

You hummed softly as Aegon slid his fingertips up your bicep to the base of your throat, wrapping them like a necklace. It tickled that area of your body unfamiliar with touch as you leaned your head back on his shoulder. The whites of his eyes were nearly bloodshot, staring down at your face with blown pupils. You had not realized how attractive he was until now, the yellow light from the torches shining behind him like a halo. He looked ever the prince. You lifted your arm sluggishly, trying to reach for the crown of light but stroking your fingers through his short curly hair instead. It was an acceptable replacement, you decided, closing your eyes to feel the strands between your digits.

Aegon leaned his head closer, resting his forehead on your furthest cheek, his nose poking into the other. You were content with the connection, nearly falling asleep until you felt his hand slide up your neck, gripping your jaw to be level with his. Your lips parted, struggling to breathe through your nose at this angle. His eyes flickered at the movement, then back to yours as you blinked slowly.

You realized too late that he was kissing you, his wet mouth pressed against yours, his tongue feeling it. It felt so lovely, a pleasant tingle traveling to your stomach as you slid your hand further into his hair. Aegon could feel the hot air leaving your nose faster, tightening his grip on your jaw. You whimpered into his mouth, the slight pinching uncomfortable but not unwelcomed.

Everything felt... heavenly. Aegon's touch was a gift from the Gods, one you accepted with open arms as he trailed his free hand down the front of your dress, pressing into the small space the fabric dipped between your legs. A jolt of ecstasy went through your body, causing you to part from him as you hiccuped a moan. He repeated the motion, pressing what felt like a button harder, making your eyes roll back into your head.

You knew there were ways to pleasure a woman other than penetration but did not understand the anatomy of it; perhaps this was what they were talking about?

Aegon continued pressing, now rubbing in tight circles as your humid breath covered the vellus hairs on his face, moving your hips to seek more friction. You were raised in a brothel. You knew about sex, practically an expert by the time you were ten and one, but the logistics were lost. As a child, you had a curious mind like any other, sneaking peaks through keyholes at the working girls at Madam's before she would grab you by your ear and haul you to your room. It was natural how your body reacted to Aegon, and you did not mind it.

"Aegon," you breathed against his skin, your eyes half-lidded as he kissed your neck. He hummed, nipping at the skin as you squeaked.

"You sound heavenly," he whispered, rubbing himself against your back.

"It feels..." You trailed off, losing yourself in the pleasure.

"Tell me, little one, tell me how you feel." Your back arched as a loud moan filled the small room, causing some guests to stir.

"It feels so... so good," you cried, rutting your core onto his fingers. He chuckled into your shoulder, nipping your collarbone as his free hand laced with yours.

A woman opened her eyes, disturbed by your loud noises, but she didn't seem to care, rolling onto her other side and going to sleep. You bit your lip, embarrassed that something so intimate, which was supposed to be done in the privacy of only two people, was in the middle of an audience.

"Do not silence yourself, my little dragon. Let them hear you roar."

You were lost, lost in the sea of alcohol and ecstasy Aegon had rowed you out too. The brackish waters pulled you under, and you struggled to fight them, running out of the will to do so. A tear leaked from the corner of your eye, running down your temple and into your hairline. He kissed it away, licking his lips and groaning at the salty taste.

Gods, he wanted to come so badly. He wanted to sink into your virgin cunt, tearing your maidenhead as your blood coated him, spilling his seed inside you. But despite what his family said about him-- despite what everyone said about him, he could be a good man—a good man for you.

"A-Aegon, it is happening." You knew what was coming, but not the name for it, not what this little death was called. "It-it's happening."

"Shh, shh," he brushed the strands of your dark hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, squeezing your hand in reassurance. "Let it happen," Aegon soothed, "let it happen."

You shrieked, allowing the waves to drag you under, consuming every fiber of your being with pure, unfiltered pleasure. Your crushed his grip, your hips moving wildly and burying your face in his neck while you cried. Having your senses heightened and stoked simultaneously was too much to handle. Aegon held you the entire time, pulling you out from under the ocean as air finally filled your lungs.

Your body shook, soft mewls escaping as the aftershocks wore off. You hated it but loved it. You wanted it again. You finally understood Aegon, why he sought out pleasure the way he did, for if it always felt like this, you would too.

"How are you, sweet thing," he asked, moving his hand between your legs and your face, cupping your cheek.

You couldn't respond, only groaning as your eyes closed. Aegon laughed, pulling your body on top of him as he laid back down on the sheets, head resting on the pillow. You felt yourself falling asleep.

"Thank you," he spoke quietly. You had never heard a man thank a woman for giving her pleasure. You turned your head, questioning his gratitude. He gently placed your head back on his chest, and you did not protest, too exhausted from everything that had happened.

Aegon's cock was in pain from the denial of your touch, silently begging for you. It had been problematic throughout the entire day, never ceasing the constant pumping as you explored the city. He had no idea how he managed to control himself for so long. Self-restraint was not his strong suit, but you changed him. You made him different. Aegon wanted to defile you when he saw your sticky fingers steal a bracelet off a noblewoman's wrist.

But you were precious, his little dragon, and you could not force a bond with a dragon no matter how much one willed it. It must be the dragon's choice.

Master List of Series

I hope y'all don't hate me for this chapter...

Thank you for reading!

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @buckysmainhxe, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlyka, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid

917 notes · View notes

honeygrahambitch · 8 months

Text

Hannibal is humming softly while sitting at his piano. From time to time he scribbles something on his sheets, replacing a musical note or adding a few more.

Will is eying him from the sofa, trying to anchor his whole self to that one image which is beautifully happening in front of his eyes.

Three weeks exactly had passed since they had jumped off the cliff. Their wounds were slowly healing. Even the wounds they didn't know they had were starting to ache less.

Will was happy Hannibal had finally built up the energy to play the piano. It wasn't a big one and some chords couldn't be properly tuned anymore but to Will it made no difference. Out of the two of them, Hannibal's condition had been worse. A few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder and a bad cold which had turned into pneumonia. His coughs hadn't allowed any of them to rest.

Will is wearing one of Hannibal's sweaters. The fabric is soft against his stiffened body which is slowly communicating him to brace for the worst.

He had tried his best to hide his sudden panic attacks from Hannibal. After all, he had been in the worst possible shape, Will's whines would have been futile to both of them.

Will guessed the panic attacks had started because of the post-traumatic stress caused by their fall. They had almost drowned. He had almost lost Hannibal after just gaining him back.

No. These thoughts were exactly the wormhole he shouldn't fall into. Most of them happen during the night so hiding them is not hard but now he feels his whole body impossible to move off the sofa.

Hannibal's song suddenly stops which only sends Will into more spiraling. He feels lost for a second. He wants to dissociate and just disappear for a few minutes.

"Will?"

"Yeah?" He replies while trying to mask his despair.

"Are you alright?"

"Absolutely." He says and realizes instantly how forced it sounds as the cold sweat is only sending him further away.

Hannibal gets up from the piano and sits on the floor right next to the sofa. Will knows he can't fool him.

"For how long has this been going on?"

"A while."

His voice quivers.

"But I'm fine, it's not-"

He realizes his whole body is shaking only when Hannibal takes his right hand into his. His skin is warm against his cold sweaty hand.

"Will, I am here. And I need you to be sincere. Are you more comfortable with going through this on your own or do you want me here?"

Will swallows as hot tears threaten to spill out. He is frustrated at his own inability to just calm himself. He had no reason to go through that. He almost misses Hannibal's question as it rings somewhere at the back of his mind.

He appreciates the way he is always careful about his personal space. He never intends to invade Will's intimacy more than he allows him to.

"Stay here." He says and Hannibal tightens his grip on his hand.

"Will you let me hold you?" Hannibal asks, his eyes consumed by concern. His Will is slowly fading away and he wants to help. He hopes Will would allow him to help.

Will nods. He needs to ground himself. He needs an anchor. And Hannibal knows he would never ask for cuddles. He climbs on the sofa next to him and wraps his arms around Will's body, putting as much pressure as he can.

One of his hands brushes away Will's wet curls as Will's head is resting on his shoulder. Will is unaware of the way his own arms are desperately holding onto Hannibal as if he is his lifeboat.

"I can't breath." He says as he can't feel the air in his lungs anymore. He feels his chest heavy, filled by the ice cold water of the ocean.

Hannibal cups his face and their foreheads meet. "Breath with me. I am right here. I am real."

Will nods. With his last bits of energy, he leans in and their lips meet eagerly. Hannibal is a bit hesitant as he doesn't want to push Will into anything when he is in that kind of state but at the same time he knows that it will help him ground himself.

It was not their first kiss. The previous weeks have given them plenty of time to explore each other. But it was certainly one of their most different kisses.

He feels Hannibal's hand gripping the back of his head and pushing him more into himself. Will melts into him as his mind is no longer spiraling over the appearent lack of air.

When he moans it's because of the relief and because of the way his body is slowly relaxing. It feels as if he finally dropped a brick he had been carrying.

When he pulls his head back, it feels as if he had run ten miles.

"Don't you dare leave." Will whispers and Hannibal knows he is not talking only about that very moment.

"I could never, dearest." He says as he leans in to kiss Will's forehead. "I don't want you to go through this on your own again."

"You weren't doing great either. I didn't want you to worry."

"It looks like neither of us was doing great. That didn't stop you from watching over me during every night while I was sick." He says softly. "Let me watch over you, Will."

For the first time in his life, Will accepts. He wants and needs Hannibal to watch over him. He needs his golden gaze, his warm hands and his silky voice. He needs his touch and his words.

He needs his love.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal series #hannibal fanfiction

257 notes · View notes

lovelyjasmari · 20 days

Text

Twisted Wonderland Reaction Part 17 ~ Special Edition

Hello everyone!

So…it’s been a while since I’ve made one of these. Almost 2 years to be exact. But after book 5 forever changed how I engage with twst (for better and worse), I haven’t really been up to doing reaction posts anymore. Also after book 5 I actually began focusing more on the jp server since there were many things in the official translation that I found…lacking to say the least.

But when twst jp released this mv on April fools day, I just knew I HAD to talk about it! I’m actually surprised more people aren’t. Probably the biggest thing about this mv is that in a lot of ways the narrative of book 5’s ending has changed now we have context to how NRC Tribe performed. I’ve seen a lot of posts on the bird app saying things like it makes sense now why they lost the VDC.

I will say, this is definitely NOT a perfect performance. But as a former dancer with WAY too much time on their hands, I decided to analyze this. So for context, I did a mix of ballet and jazz for eleven years and in 2017 I decided to return to dance and have been dancing consistently ever since. To judge this fairly, I watched the MV several times, four times per member, (do the math and feel free to judge me). And with that, here are the things that stuck out to me the most.

He is beauty, he is grace, HOW HE HELL DID HE NOT KICK EPEL IN THE FACE?!

Synchronization/symmetry

The lack of synchronization was the first thing I noticed, ESPECIALLY in the first 30 seconds. The footwork is sloppy and Deuce and Ace in particular aren't as sharp with their moves as the other five. Rook seems to be the only one doing the choreography correctly because one point at 0:25 (and again at 3:31) where he bends his knee higher than the others and thanks to those fuckass uggs standing out so much, I couldn’t unsee it. At 1:03, 1:07, 2:07, and 3:00 Ace’s form is noticeably off as well.

And this may just be a personal hangup of mine but I found lack of symmetry between the boys at 1:14 very odd. Like, I don’t know how I can describe it but the way Epel tried to take center stage during his and Vil’s duet gave me the impression that wasn’t originally in the routine. At 1:13 there’s a split second where you can actually see Vil looking down at Epel like “...wut?” I immediately thought about that moment right before they go on stage where Epel offers to take on Vil’s solo’s because he looks so weak but Vil refuses. I wonder if Epel trying to take center like that is a callback to that exchange. Unfortunately, since the boys were perfectly symmetrical for the rest of the song, it stands out as awkward all the more.

Kalim and Jamil

Lowkey, Kalim and Jamil both carried this performance after Vil. The little magic with the mic was a super nice touch and Kalim shines the most during the dance break. He seems to be having fun with it despite being in agony. What’s interesting is that after Ace and Deuce, Kalim is the most out of sync but he pulls it off well since I can tell he’s been on the stage before. Both he and Jamil are natural performers.

Vil’s movements

So, this has been something of a headcanon of mine but it seems to have been proven correct with this mv. Vil has always struck me as someone who probably has a lot of classical dance training but little training in other styles like hip-hop or jazz. His movements are very graceful and elegant but almost…too elegant? I don’t know if that makes sense but they seem very smooth for this style of choreography.

AND THAT FUCKING GRAND JETE!!! Absolutely flawless but it feels SO out of place here! I will give him credit though, that is one of the most difficult jumps to pull off in ballet, and the fact he did that in fucking 5-inch heels right after the most mentally and physically traumatic episode of his life, it’s beyond impressive. And the fact he landed perfectly and so seamlessly moved into his final solo is even more remarkable. Still, that was the most jarring element of this choreography and I think it would still be out of place even if this was a “perfect” performance.

Now here’s where I potentially piss people off

All in all this is a perfectly imperfect performance. Being completely objective and not taking my love for these characters into account, I honestly still don’t see how they lost. Well, I understand why but it still is fucked to me. I can understand Vil feeling like NRC Tribe didn’t perform their best since they were exhausted and hurting from dealing with his overblot. I can also understand that they were probably a lot more polished in rehearsal. But here’s the thing, for a group of amateurs, I would probably expect this quality of performance even if they hadn’t had to deal with Vil’s overblot.

First off, the choreography is rather complex for beginners and requires a lot of synconization to look correct. But perfecting syncronization alone can take months and in larger groups sometimes even longer. To give an example, last year at my dance school, the kpop class did a TWICE cover that took us the better part of eight months to learn and we had to learn the chours in groups of three. And even then we still fucked up alot because again, none of us are professionals. If NRC Tribe can look like this after only ONE MONTH of training, that’s extremely impressive. Vil, can you train me please?? XD

As for having to perform right after beating OB Vil’s ass, again I was expecting to see A LOT more noticeable errors. And knowing what they all just went through honestly makes me admire this all the more. The thing is, it’s easy to be beautiful when everything is right and perfect in your world. But being able to smile even when you’re struggling and your heart is breaking is even more beautiful still. Personally, I don’t think I could perform even half as well if it were me.

It’s unfortunate that we don’t have a MV of Neige’s performance so I could do a fully fair analysis. But if we look at all the evidence, it seems to me that NRC Tribe still gave a better performance. And I think the true tragedy here isn’t even that NRC Tribe lost since I think that was always a given considering the dynamic NRC and RSA has.

The true tragedy, I think, is that Vil could be convinced that this perfectly imperfect performance was still inferior to Neige’s. But I’ll leave that for another time.

#twisted wonderland #jas reads twst #twst book 5 #twst book 5 spoilers #nrc tribe #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #jamil viper #kalim al asim #ace trappola #deuce spade #rook hunt #shut up jas

54 notes · View notes

storiesofleftoverghosts · 3 months

Text

dating RE2R!Leon Kennedy... and what Taylor Swift songs it would be like

pairings: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

warnings: just your typical canon violence mentioned, Leon's trauma is discussed.

requested?: nope!

word count: 2343

a/n: guys i'm sorry for being gone for so long! i said i was gonna post this on sunday but i have commitment issues. so yeah this is my take on Leon Kennedy. specifically RE2R!Leon. i want to do all eras (if you will) of Leon but i'm nervous that i'm gonna like...BUTCHER his character. so sorry if he's out of character or anything! also this is a long one so buckle up.

also if you're new to my blog then these are headcanons mixed with Taylor Swift inspired blurb type of thing at the end.

okay being honest y'all

dating Leon before and after Raccoon City are way two different experiences (because duh trauma and all that good shit)

so let's start with before Raccoon City

a common thing I see is that he's like a puppy dog which ok yeah

but I'd like to put my own spin on him ok?

anyway

even before Raccoon City, Leon is definitely traumatized from his family yknow…

being brutally murdered

which makes him hesitant to get into a relationship

but when he first meets you, he’s already absolutely smitten

I picture Leon to be a very awkward yet sweet lover

like sure he's had partners before you but I think you'd be the first person he sees a realistic future with

he doesn’t want to ruin anything with you

he may be a 21 year old man

but romance and being in love makes him feel/act like a blushing high school girl

what can he say? he's a hopeless romantic

he's the type to remember small anniversaries at the beginning of y'all dating

and makes somewhat of a big deal out of them

"happy 4 months babe! I got us dinner reservations at (your favorite restaurant) :)"

oh yeah he loves to use pet names

babe and honey are the names he uses the most

chivalry isn't dead when it comes to Leon

always holding doors for you

getting you "just because" flowers

definitely is the type of guy to wait for you to tie your shoe while everyone else is walking ahead

his love language receiving is physical touch and giving love language is words of affirmation

knows you can stand up for yourself but won't hesitate to put someone in their place for you

taking things super slow because he doesn't want to rush into things

didn't actually kiss you until the fifth date

and he asked for permission of course

holds your hand every time you guys go out together

his favorite types of dates would be walks through the park and picnics

it's cheesy sure but classic and he loves to hear you talk

also loves to make you laugh

one of his favorite sounds to exist

has tried to cook a romantic dinner for you once

but got distracted by how beautiful you are and almost burnt the place down

yes he almost died from embarrassment but eating take out and cuddling with you was worth it

mans is such a supportive boyfriend and your #1 fan

he loves to imagine your guys’ future together

when he gets into the police academy he's a bit worried about the relationship

but when he sees your eyes light up and the way you squeeze him once he tells you the news

he wants to laugh at himself for having doubts in the first place

dating while he was in the academy was tough but y'all made it work

was shocked when you agreed to come with him to Raccoon City

but happy nonetheless

wow! everything he's ever dreamed of is coming true

your guys relationship is stronger than ever and you both are on the path to success

what could go wrong??

...Raccoon City is what could go wrong.

so your relationship after the events of Raccoon City is... different

you weren't there with him during that unfortunate night in Raccoon City

he thanks God or whatever higher being for that

truthfully you were one of the things that got him through that fateful night

whenever it felt hopeless, he thought about your smile and the way your eyes crinkle when you do

that kept him going throughout the horrors he saw

also just the fact that he wanted to tell you “I love you” one last time

trying not to throw up when you hear about Raccoon City

not being able to get ahold of Leon was one of the worse things you'd ever been through

finally getting a hold of him and the both of you sobbing into the phone

"I thought you were gone and I was going to be alone-" "I would never leave you. Never in a million years."

when you finally see him, you give him a long hug

you were careful about touching his shoulder of course

he's not exactly the Leon you knew before

the light that used to sparkle in his eyes had been put out

but he still looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky

being there by his side during nightmares and calming him down

helping take care of his shoulder wound for a while

studying up on PTSD to understand him better

squeezing his hand when he gets that faraway look in his eyes

patience and understanding becoming your best friends

doesn't open up right away with what happened in Raccoon City

if/when he does, it's a loooong night of him slowly opening up and talking about it

and you of course listening

holding him and being gentle with him when he eventually breaks down

sometimes he lashes out at you when he's in that headspace

but he immediately apologizes after and that brings him out of it

constantly reassuring him about things

the date nights y'all have now consists of ordering take out and cuddling on the couch

binge watching cheesy sitcom series becomes another way of spending time together

it’s a way of trying to hold onto the sliver of normalcy between you two

he feels bad about not being ready to go out in the world yet but again you reassure him it's okay

embarrassed that you take care of him because he thinks it should be the other way around

he was already protective of you before Raccoon City

but he becomes even more protective after

mans is like a guard dog okay?

he's not trying to be overbearing, he just wants to know where you're going out to incase something happens

reminiscing on his favorite memories with you before everything happened

having you by his side helps ground him when he feels a panic attack coming on

communication becomes more important than ever (even if it's the hardest thing he can do sometimes)

him thinking you deserve better than him

yet being so in love with you that the thought of losing you makes him physically ill

makes sure to tell you that he loves you at least once a day because that’s all he could think about during Raccoon City

no he doesn't tell you about how the government threatened yours and Sherry's lives if he didn't join

that isn’t your burden to shoulder

he tries to do his best with keeping certain details from you

mostly because it makes him sick to think about and he doesn’t want you to worry more

you're the last thing he has from his life before Raccoon City

he wouldn't dare dream of letting you go

can't imagine his life without you

Okay so this was a bit tricky for me! I personally think that Fearless (from Fearless (Taylor’s Version)) and The Great War (from Midnights) fit RE2R!Leon the best. For those who aren’t familiar with Taylor’s music, Fearless is about the start of a relationship and the fearlessness of falling in love. I think that it’s a happy and upbeat love song and perfectly fits RE2R!Leon before Raccoon City. The Great War is about a couple having a rough patch in their relationship, but promising each other they’ll stick together throughout it. Which if that doesn’t scream post Raccoon City Leon then I don’t know what does.

…

Leon may have physically survived that devastating night in Raccoon City, but mentally, huge pieces of who he was had died. No longer was he that bright eyed rookie ready to help change the world. Now he was an ex cop who got an unwanted promotion that only reminded him of the horrors he witnessed.

Hopelessness was something that hung in the back of his mind every day. His smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore. It had only been two months, but he was still constantly on his guard. Even when he attempted to get some sleep, he couldn’t allow himself to relax. Nightmares of what happened in Raccoon City had constantly plagued his dreams. Sometimes he swore he could hear that monster’s loud footsteps down the hallway in the shared apartment.

One of the only things that seemed to keep him pushing through the dark was his partner. Being around you helped calm his racing mind. You were like a warm blanket in the cold darkness his mind had been in the past month. No matter what, your hand was the thing he had constantly been reaching out for.

Small things would trigger unpleasant flashbacks which made his stomach turn. A week ago you had accidentally dropped a pan you were reaching for, and the loud bang sounded too much like a gunshot for comfort. One moment he was in his apartment and the next he was back in Raccoon City. He could smell the rotting flesh and hear the groans of the undead. His breathing had quickened, and he immediately got ready to defend himself from monsters that Guilt ate at you as you attempted to calm him down.

"Leon honey, it's okay. You're at home with me. You’re having a flashback." Your honey coated voice reminded him. This wasn’t the first time he had an episode and it wouldn’t be the last. After a few minutes of reminding him to describe his surroundings and breath, you finally managed to coax him out of that state of mind. It had become second nature for you to remind him that nothing from Raccoon City could get to him anymore. When he finally was able to calm down, he immediately reached for you. Tears had brimmed his eyes and seeing that broken look on his face crushed your heart. Why must good people like him go through the worst things?

The worse thing for Leon is when he would unintentionally lash out at you. He couldn't stop the venomous words that accidentally left his mouth. Punishing for things you never did left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Jesus Christ, just leave me alone for a moment!" He'd snapped the other day when it had been particularly hard to get out of bed. You had been asking him questions about how he was feeling, and if he needed anything. Just being a caring partner. God the look of hurt that had flashed upon your face was one he could never forget. Apologies had never escaped from him faster than that moment. It was like putting Band-Aids over bullet holes (no pun intended) and he knew that these outbursts of his weren’t fair to you.

You were an angel sent down from heaven, this was something he was sure of. Why did he have to keep flying off the handle over the smallest things? Realistically he knew that you were only human and made mistakes. He knew you were just trying to take care of him. Dark circles had begun to form under your eyes from the lack of sleep you had been getting. That was because of him and his night terrors. His heart ached for you, and he had never hated himself more for that.

Leon was so caught up in his thoughts about you and everything that he hadn’t noticed you enter the small living room. The first thing you had noticed was that faraway look in his eyes. You had called out his name before making your way to sit by him on the leather couch. Hearing your voice made him come back to earth, and his thoughts grew quiet once he saw you.

“Hey love. You alright?” Your voice was gentle as you reached for his hand. He hadn’t hesitated to grab it. Of course you knew he wasn’t okay. Leon usually wore his heart on his sleeve. Your thumb gingerly rubbed his knuckles as you waited for his response. Leon was hesitant to tell you everything he had been thinking. After an internal debate, he figured it’s the least he could do as your boyfriend.

“I’m…sorry for snapping at you the past couple of months.” He finally responded after a moment. You furrowed your eyebrows in response. As much as you had appreciated his apology, it felt like it came out of nowhere. What the hell had triggered this?

“I’m sorry about being the reason you haven’t slept well, and just sorry in general. You deserve better than me.” Words were overflowing from his mouth before he could stop it. He squeezed your hand as he continued. “I don’t know why I’ve been so… awful towards you and there’s just-“

“Leon stop.” You interrupted him. For a moment he seemed like his old self as he looked at her with those puppy dog eyes of his. “Look, I appreciate your apology. But you also just went through a traumatic experience. You’re not gonna just bounce back.”

Scooting closer, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Your head rested on his chest and you could hear his heartbeat. It was a soothing sound, reminding you that your boyfriend was alive and here in your arms. His arms fell into place on your back.

“I don’t care if you think I “deserve better”. You’re what I want, no matter what. I will always be yours.” Pulling yourself back, you cupped his cheeks into your hands. Hearing you vow your love to him like that made his heart flutter. Leaning forward, you planted a soft yet tender kiss on his lips.

Yes, Leon knew that there was no way in hell you guys could return back to the way your relationship was before. He wasn’t the same person as before, but he was slowly realizing you weren’t the same person either. In this moment with you, he knew you guys would survive this war zone inside his head.

He would make sure of it.

#leon kennedy x reader #re2r leon x reader #re2r leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #reader insert #taylor swift inspired fanfic #taylor swift #elliessodashop

81 notes · View notes

quinncupine · 8 months

Note

Hello Quinn, I’m relatively new to your writing but I’m literally obsessed!!! I have a request for you, how about Deku x fem reader where he’s out on patrol and calls his s/o to check on her but she doesn’t answer and he has this guy feeling that something isn’t right so he goes home to find someone had broken in, what happens next is completely up to you you have my trust lol, sorry if this request is a little weird but I live for worried Izuku lol

I think we all know by now that I love throwing my characters into scary traumatizing situations, so this one was fun to write!

Home Invasion

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Word count: ~4,900

Warnings: gun violence, burglary, cursing

Quinn’s Masterlist

Izuku stared out at the bright lights that reflected millions of colors across the glittering buildings. Night time in the city was always beautiful. It was one of the reasons he loved night patrols.

As he made his rounds in the sector, his mind kept wandering back to you. What were you doing right about now? Since he was stuck on the night shift this evening, he wouldn't be there to witness your nightly routine.

He'd come to memorize your exact routine each night. Izuku chuckled as he imagined you putting on another spot of tea before you went to clean your face, humming whatever old song was stuck in your head as you danced around your shared apartment. You were probably in your pajamas by now and though he'd never voice it, he'd hoped you were wearing those Deku pj's Ochacho had gotten you as a gag gift last Christmas. It embarrassed him each time you put them on, flushing his face to near boiling every time he saw them. But he loved the way you looked in them.

The night had been quiet and his body was itching for action. Chilled fingers twitched along with his jittery form as he leaped across to the next rooftop. He always preferred to travel by rooftop during patrols. It was always easier to get a feel for whatever mood the city decided it was having that night. Plus it made sneaking up on unawares criminals much easier.

But it seemed as if all the villains in the city decided to take the night off during his patrol. That rarely ever happened. Especially with his special brand of luck.

With a sigh, he glanced down into the empty alley and made his way onto the next block. He hopped onto a ledge above a lonely intersection, watching one car lazily make its way through the light and down the next street.

He had time to make a quick call. To ease a bit of the boredom.

Fishing the cracked phone out of his pocket, he dialed your number and waited for you to answer. He was almost certain you were still awake, but a guilty thought crept into the back of his mind that maybe you decided to go to bed early tonight since he wouldn't be back until the wee hours of the morning.

The phone rang a few more times before it went to your voicemail where your chirpy recorded voice asked him to leave a message. He hung up, worried that he did call while you were asleep. He didn't want to bother you, especially this late at night.

Pocketing the device, he headed for the next block. As he landed on the next building, he couldn't help the nagging sensation in the back of his mind, demanding his attention. He knew your routine. He knew it down to a tee. Something about it didn't sit right with him. Of course, there could be a million possibilities of why you didn't answer, but usually, in Izuku's case, it always seemed to end in the worst-case scenario.

His boots dug into the gravel of the rooftop he'd stopped on. The low hum of the ventilation hid the crunch under his boots. He used the cover to lean against the metal and pull his phone out again. It couldn't hurt to just try one more time. As long as he heard from you that everything was okay, then he would be okay. He could always apologize for waking you later.

When the call went straight to voicemail this time, he stared down at the phone. Something wasn't right. That familiar sense of dread filling the pit in his stomach practically screamed it over and over at him. Something wasn't right.

Izuku pulled up the location app you both had installed on your phones. He pinpointed yours, and sure enough, you were home. Maybe you had just put it on silent, or maybe you were just busy with something at the moment.

He impatiently rapped his fingers along the cold metal surface of the unit as he thought through his decision. The apartment78 was outside his patrol route this week. From his position now, it would take him at least ten minutes off route. That nervous hole growing in his gut was only urging him more and more to just at least stop at home to check. You two could laugh about how silly it was later.

Mind made up, he turned back around and launched himself into the air, leaving a small ring in the gravel. If he boosted his speed with his quirk, he could make it there and back in time to finish his route.

The night had been a quiet one. You were used to them of course. Every couple of weeks, Izuku would have to work the graveyard shift so you wouldn't see him until the morning. After a nice relaxing bath, you slipped on your pajamas, hoping that when Izuku did eventually make it home, he'd see you asleep with his likeness plastered all over you. It always made him melt into an adorable blubbering puddle which you took too much pleasure in.

After setting the teapot on the stove, you headed into the bathroom to finish washing your face. Humming a tune, you turned on the faucet. The water felt nice, especially after a long day. You could feel yourself relaxing the longer you splashed your face.

Over the sound of the sink, you heard a door close. With a handful of water brimming past your cupped palms, you froze, glancing at your phone on the counter. Izuku wouldn't be home yet unless something drastic happened, but normally, he would at least call if there was an issue.

Dropping the water back into the sink, you grabbed a towel and patted your face dry, then turned off the faucet. Before you stepped into the hallway, you slipped your phone into the waistband of your pants.

"Izuku? Didn't your shift already start? What are you doing home-" Your words died on your lips as you turned the corner into the living room, locking eyes with a masked person in a hoodie. The ski mask was lifted, revealing a pudgy face and wide saucer-like eyes.

The man was holding a large sack, half filled with contents from around the room. A burglar. You'd walked in on a burglary.

Two pairs of shocked eyes stared at each other for a few tense seconds. Your heart had gone into overdrive, nearly hammering itself right out of your chest. Your feet unconsciously backed up, but the man dropped the sack with a loud crack and pulled out a pistol, shakily aiming it at you.

"Don't move!" he cried out, eyes nervously darting around the room.

He didn't expect to be caught red-handed. His thick fingers trembled, shaking the barrel so badly you were sure if he did decide to shoot, he had a pretty good chance of missing. But you didn't want to take that chance to begin with.

You raised your hands in surrender. "Look, I don't want any trouble." You tried to keep your voice steady so as not to spook him. "Take whatever you want, as long as you leave. Just put the gun down alright? I won't fight."

That much was true. You weren't a hero like Izuku. You wouldn't try to bust your way through a fight. You only had your wits to keep you safe from a bullet and a shaky trigger finger.

The room was silent as the burglar nervously thought it over, the gun never wavering from his target. At last, he lowered it slightly, glancing down at his sack of stolen goodies.

A small bit of relief rolled through you as you thought he'd just take his prize and leave, but then a loud ringtone buzzed from your waist startling you both.

"What is that? What are you doing?" He took a heavy step forward, barrel pointed back at you. "Drop it! Drop it now!"

You couldn't help the panicked yelp as he waved the gun wildly, threatening to shoot. With slow motion, you lifted the phone out of your waistband and carefully placed it on the floor, face up. You could see Izuku's goofy grin lighting the screen as the phone vibrated loudly on the floor, demanding attention. After another ring, the phone went dark, along with your hope.

"N-now kick it over here!" He cried out, obviously getting more and more frantic with how this evening was turning out.

You couldn't say you were any more happy than he was.

Sliding your foot out, you gave it a little shove. The phone twirled across the wood floor until it came to a stop between the two of you. The man narrowed his eyes at you as he took a few more steps out to reach it.

As he bent down to grab it, you debated on the odds of running. If you just got outside, you could escape to get help. Or he could have a much better aim than you thought. The chances of him hitting his target weren't low enough to tangle with. If only there was a way to warn Izuku. But right now, your only means of communication was currently in a panicked criminal's hands.

The man examined your phone until the shrill cry from your kettle in the kitchen startled him so much that he dropped the device. You heard the crunch of your screen the moment it hit the floor, and you were afraid he'd destroyed your phone. Destroyed your chances of calling for help.

He cursed as he swiveled in the direction of the kitchen, trying to find the source of the noise.

"It's just the kettle," you said quietly, not wanting to startle him any more than he already had been.

A nervous gunman was an unpredictable gunman.

"This wasn't how it was supposed to go," he whispered as he stormed into the kitchen, keeping the gun trained on you as he moved the kettle off the stove, silencing the pot and filling the apartment with more tense silence.

You watched him, heart hammering in your chest as you tried to figure out what he was going to do. You'd seen his face. His mask was still sitting above his brow. He hadn't made any attempts at hiding himself. You weren't sure if he just hadn't realized it in his panic or if he knew he'd be screwed either way. But with the way he was staring at you now, you were sure this wasn't going to end in your favor.

"He said it'd be easy." The man rubbed his forehead with his free hand, before running his palm down his face. "Shit!"

"Please, if you leave now, I promise I won't say anything."

At least not until you had your phone back. Then there would be nowhere for him to hide once Izuku got wind of it. The only problem was getting to it with that barrel still staring down at you.

"No!" He yelled, pulling the rest of the mask off to rub his head with the side of the gun. Sweat had built up in his damp hair. It dripped down the side of his face, pooling under his chin. "No, no, no! You've already seen me. I'm screwed. If I mess something as simple as this up, then they'll-" he paused as if the next part was too terrifying to say aloud. "No! I've gotta fix this somehow."

An icy dread filled your veins. Everything he just admitted was what you were afraid of. You were the only witness. All he had to do was just get rid of the witness. A short-term solution to a long-term issue. It was a terrible plan. One that had major consequences for both parties, but he didn't seem to be in the listening kind of mood.

That familiar ringtone broke the taut mess of emotions hanging in the air. You glanced at the phone jingling against the floorboards with its merry tune. A stark contrast to your feelings at the moment.

He moved quickly out of the kitchen, back to where your phone lay innocently on the ground. The burglar lifted his boot and in one hard stomp, killed your only chance of calling for help. The buzzing stopped as your poor phone was crushed underfoot.

"Get on the floor! Put-put your hands on your head!" He charged toward you so quickly you sucked in a breath, stumbling back a few steps. "Don't make me tell you twice!"

Unsure of what else to do, you stiffly obeyed. Kneeling on the floor, you locked your hands behind your head, trying your best to regulate your heavy breaths. Panic was building in your throat. Tears blurred your vision. Fear flooded your thoughts. Thinking was nearly impossible as he pointed that gun just inches from your head.

The man wiped at the sheen of sweat building on his forehead and blinked hard. "I-I don't want to hurt you…but I can't…I can't go back to jail. If he knows I messed up again then-" He groaned, smacking his face.

"You won't!" you pleaded, holding in a sob. Anything to make him stop pointing that gun at your face. "Please, this will only make things worse."

"I just needed to pay off some debts." He seemed to be pleading right back, a wobbly tilt to his voice. He was just as scared as you. "It was supposed to be easy money. No one was supposed to be here. You weren't supposed to be here."

The man must not have done very good research before he attempted this little caper. You supposed the only reason he'd gotten caught was the work trip you were supposed to be on this week had been canceled. You weren't supposed to be here tonight. It was a last-minute change that threw him for a loop. And now it seemed you were paying the price.

"I can't-argh!" He twisted away, smacking the butt of the gun against his head in frustration. "Shit, shit, shit!"

The criminal stalked back and forth, seeming to debate about what to do next. As he paced, he only occasionally threw a sparing glance your way. Your stomach churned every time he looked at you. If you could just get past him without him looking. If you could just get through the door before he realized. You definitely didn't want to stick around to figure out what he would ultimately decide.

As he turned his back once more, you tensed your legs, ready to spring into action. With one quick motion, you dashed for the door on the other side of the room. He spun around when you were halfway across the living room and screamed. The gunshot nearly deafened you as it splintered the vase beside you.

You shrieked, stumbling back into the wall, trying to distance yourself from the shattered pottery. It was a gut reaction but it was the wrong choice. Your hesitance gave him the opportunity he needed to place himself between you and the door, raising the gun with his finger on the trigger.

There was no time to think. You knew he was going to shoot. He was too spooked to let you go now. Not after the attempted escape. So you did the only thing you could.

You ran.

Backpedaling as fast as you could, you flung yourself around the corner and down the hall. In your panic, you dove into the first room you came across which happened to be the bathroom. Once you crossed the barrier, you twisted and kicked the door shut, practically throwing yourself into the wood as you fumbled with the lock.

The moment you twisted the lock, he slammed himself into the door. The knob shook so hard you were worried he would tear it right out of the door. The bathroom was small and with not much space to work with, you backed up, nearly tripping on the rug in front of the bathtub. Your breathing was too rapid to gain control so you bent over, struggling for air that just wouldn't come. Panic had nearly engulfed your entire being.

The door shook a few times as slammed himself into it over and over again. Whatever the door was made of, it held up surprisingly well under the assault.

But it wouldn't hold forever.

You'd sealed your fate by running. There was no way he'd let you live now. And why would you trap yourself in the bathroom of all places? It was windowless. No means of escape. It just happened to be the first door offering meager protection in your panicked state. If only you'd had the sense to make it to the bedroom where the window led out onto the fire escape.

"Come out now!" He screamed from the other side. "There's nowhere to run!"

Your legs hit the porcelain of the tub. Stepping into it, you crouched low and hugged your knees. Yes, you'd successfully trapped yourself, but you did have one thing going for you. He shot at you. One of your neighbors must've heard the commotion. At least you hoped so. All you had to do was wait him out and hope the door held until help arrived.

The kicking stopped. A part of you prayed that he'd finally come to his senses and fled while he had the chance. Silence filled the bathroom, ringing loudly in your ears as you held your breath. Tears leaked onto your knees, soaking your pajamas. You stared down at one of the masked faces of Deku adorning your knee. You needed him right now, but how in the world was he supposed to know that? The knowledge that he wasn't coming was turning your panic into full-blown hysterics.

There was a small click from the other side of the door. You didn't even have a chance to react as a bullet shot through the thick wood, impaling itself in the tile above your head. With a scream, you threw yourself flat against the tub, hoping it would provide at least some protection. A second shot tore through the curtains.

"Help!" you cried as loudly as you could. "Help!"

A third shot shattered the side of the toilet bowl, spilling water everywhere.

You curled tighter into yourself, squeezing your eyes shut.

Expecting a fourth shot, you covered your ears, but instead, a loud thud shook the floor outside. Freezing, you listened in the terse silence, the sound of your breath too loud in your ears. It seemed too good to be true…had someone finally come?

Izuku landed on the sidewalk in front of the six-story walkup. In the darkness of the late-night air, he saw only a few windows glowing with life. His eyes scanned the side of the building, searching out the right floor and- there. The faint glow from the living room drifted through the curtains. So he knew he wouldn't be waking you up, at least.

He entered the lobby, shoes squeaking in the quiet emptiness, and jogged up the stairs that lead to the fifth floor.

The building itself was pretty old. A single elevator sat permanently out of commission, much to the ire of the other residents. Most of the rooms could use a fresh coat of paint…and probably a few other repairs. But rent was cheap and with opening his own agency only a year ago, his savings would take a while to grow back.

You didn’t seem to mind. Working yourself to the ground trying to make your own path with your career. While the place itself was a bit old and rundown, it was what you two joyfully called home because it was where each other was. And that's all you could really ask for in this life.

Izuku had made it to the third floor when he heard the distinct sound of gunfire from above. It was muffled, but there was no mistaking the sound, especially in his line of work. That sense of dread floating in his veins seemed to pool right into his stomach as he boosted himself up the last two flights.

When the door came into view, he stopped, taking in the sight with dread.

The door was slightly ajar.

Someone was inside.

With you.

A second shot fired off and one of the neighboring doors peeked open. An elderly man popped his head out of the door looking rightfully alarmed. Izuku caught his attention with a finger to his lips and motioned for him to go back inside.

He made his way to the edge of the door and glanced inside. From his viewpoint, he could see the living room. There was a shattered vase on the floor, a black bag full of various things you two owned, and then there were the remnants of your crushed phone. But no signs of you or whoever fired that gun.

Another bullet fired further inside, and your scream was what got him moving double time. His quirk sparking around him like furious lightning, he launched himself past the living room. The commotion came from the hallway, and when he rounded the corner, he saw a man dressed in all black fire, another bullet into the bathroom door.

The bullet had barely left the chamber before Izuku slammed into the man with full unmerciful force. Both men collided with the wall at the end of the hall, cracking the plaster. An agonizing cry came from underneath him as the man curled around his arm, bent at an odd angle. He didn't put up much more of a fight as he groaned, glaring up at Izuku.

"You broke my arm!" He screamed as if Izuku was the one in the wrong. "Dammit!"

But the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and with no fight to serve as a proper output for his fury, he slammed the wall beside the intruder's head with a boiling cry of outrage, making a fist-sized hole in the wall. Walls, he could replace. Heads, not so much.

At the sudden violent outburst, the man stiffened, blinking the rain of dust out of his eyes. He snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide with terror.

Once Izuku took a few breaths to calm himself down, he wrenched the criminal off the wall, only to slam him belly-first into the floor. Pressing a foot down on his back, he used a set of zip ties from his belt to secure the writhing mess of a man beneath him. He didn't care to be gentle as he nudged the criminal on his side and tied his hands tight, ignoring the sobs spilling from his mouth. He moved down to his legs and tied those two. Just to be sure, this bastard wasn't going anywhere until Izuku decided what to do with him.

"No, no, no," the intruder cried weakly into the floor, struggling with his binds. "It wasn't- argh- it wasn't supposed to go this way. It's all her fault!"

He glared down at the whining mess struggling to free himself. "You'll pay for your mistakes. If you hurt her at all," he squatted low to make sure he was listening. "I swear you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

With that, Izuku turned his attention to the bathroom door, now decorated with a few bullet holes. He made his way over until he stood just outside it, trying to hear any signs of life within. It was silent and that perhaps scared him more than anything. Just what would he find in there after this disaster of a night?

You were everything to him. If something were to happen to you, he honestly wasn't sure what he'd do. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not in the safety of your home. Not when Izuku-Deku- is supposed to be watching your back. Not to someone as perfect and as kind as you.

Shaky fingers gripped the knob and turned, only to be stopped by the lock. When he called your name, a slight wobble to his voice, he only heard silence for a few terrifying moments before the subtle sounds of movement came from inside.

"…Izuku?" you asked quietly, sniffling and not entirely trusting. "Is that really you?"

"It's me. I'm here. Everything's okay now. You're safe, I promise." He leaned his head against the wood, trying to tamper down his own racing heart. "I'm so sorry."

The door unlocked and swung open so fast, that he barely even registered it before you crashed into him with a fierce hug, squeezing as tight as you could manage around his bulky frame. The fabric of his uniform twisted in your grasp. You buried your face as deep into his chest as you could and let out a shaky sob. In one long breath, you let all your fear and terror out.

"H-How'd you even know to come?" you asked, voice muffled by the cloth but unwilling to let go just yet.

His arms curled tight around you. A secure embrace you were grateful for and melted into it. You felt him trembling almost as much as you. He had been just as terrified as you were, maybe for different reasons, but still the same fear.

"I…I don't know." He admitted into your hair. "I just…I had a feeling."

And he would forever be grateful to the fates for whatever reason they decided to give him the instincts to come. But at the moment, all he cared about was that you were here, alive, and safe in his arms.

"I'm glad you did," you spoke softly, your emotions finally reigning themselves in a bit. "I don't even want to think about what would've-" you paused, your mouth not quite able to form the rest of the sentence.

He didn't want to say it either. Just thinking about the worst-case scenario had him shuddering at the thought. What if he had ignored his instinct tonight? Would you even be alive after he would've eventually come home hours from now?

Sparing a glance at the man who was too absorbed in pleading his case to the floor, he twisted you around so you wouldn't have to look at him.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Izuku gently cupped your red puffy face in his hands. Those giant green eyes laced with concern as he searched for any sign of pain.

"I don't think so." That much was true, at least in the physical sense. But you did a quick cursory check of your limbs and, finding them still intact, you grasped his wrists. "Thank you. You saved me. He would've- I might've-" stammering out the words, your raw voice dissolved into a puddle, and you pulled him in for another tight hug.

As you hicciped into his uniform, he could only hug you tighter. A light kiss to the crown of your head, and he leaned in to whisper, "I will always be there for you. I promise."

"You won't leave?" you murmured, voice vibrating directly into his heart.

"I won't leave," he assured you, gently swaying from side to side. "I'll stay right here by your side for the rest of the night. For the rest of your life if that's what it takes.

He felt your body sag in relief. Your fingers curled into the creases of the fabric. You let out a deep, slightly shaky breath.

It wasn't a lie.

He would stick by your side for as long as you would let him. You were the light of his life. The thing he looked forward to each and every day. The man would give anything up to make sure you stayed happy, healthy, and alive.

As you fought back the adrenaline slowly seeping from your body, he wrapped an arm around your waist, that look of concern still adorning his freckly face.

"Do you need to sit?"

"Maybe," you admitted, dropping your head into his shoulder and trusting he would have your weight should you stumble.

He led you to the couch where he could still keep an eye on the hogtied criminal down the hall and helped you ease into the cushions. You patted your knees and frowned. Your pants were dirty, smudging the print of his masked likeness.

"They're dirty," you muttered, poking the print. "And they were my favorite."

Izuku, despite the situation, blushed as he stared down at your pants. "They were?"

"Yeah. But I suppose as long as I have the real version with me, I can manage." You leaned back, taking his hand and curling yourself around his arm as he stood vigil over you while you waited for the police. "You're a good hero Izuku. And you just keep proving it. There isn't a doubt in my mind that you'll be Number One someday."

As you closed your eyes, you didn't catch the red dusting his cheeks, but you did hear the way his breath hitched in his throat. You smiled something small and wobbly as you scrubbed the last of the tears from your face. Finally, you let yourself relax a little, knowing you were safe with him. There was solace in knowing he'd always be right there by your side.

#izuku midoria x reader #pro hero deku #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #deku #deku x reader #burglaries #gun violence #nameless criminal #izuku would do anything to protect the ones he loves #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #story request

142 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 11 months

Text

Too Close

Pairing: rockstar!joel x actress!reader

Author’s note: this isn’t exactly where I wanted it to be but I still like it (ps fic named after this song)

Summary: “Why, get you gone! Who is’t that hinders you?” “A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream Act III, Scene II, Lines 318-319 [2.5k]

Warnings: arguing, language, tumultuous co-parent relationships, the l word, allusions to substance abuse, vague depictions of a panic attack, brief description of disassociation, poor sleeping habits, fictional situations of survivor’s guilt/traumatic events, this one’s a doozy y’all

Joel ushers you into his bedroom and quickly closes the door behind him like you two are sneaking around and don't want to get caught. You bite your thumbnail as you think, replaying the brief moment you saw Angela over and over again. He stands there, hands on his hips, and takes a deep breath. You don't know where to start. Two hours ago? Last week? Twenty years ago? Time seems to collapse between the two of you.

"If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me. Not Sarah." He says as if getting pissed at Sarah was even on your radar.

"I'm not gonna get mad at her. She's a kid," you scoff. The fact that he even had to specify that makes your skin crawl. At what point during your relationship have you made it seem like you would ever be angry with her? "How long have you known?" You ask the million-dollar question, and he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sarah reached out to her a couple of months ago, and she responded. I didn't think she'd actually show up."

"How long is a couple of months?"

"She emailed her before we left for New York." He says, and you have to sit down on the ottoman at the front of his bed to catch your breath. You bury your head in your hands and fight the tears stinging behind your eyes. Your knee bounces with unspent anger and anxiety, and your heart hammers in your chest.

"So, the entire time I was telling you everything about my past and showing you where I lived and trusting you for the first time, you were in contact with your ex-wife?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything. You look up to stare at him, and he shakes his head.

"I didn't think she'd actually come into town."

"That doesn't matter, Joel! You should've told me!"

"I didn't know if we were even anythin' before we went to New York, so it didn't feel important." He says like it's your fault, and you raise your eyebrows at him. You walk over to him, fire in your veins and venom choking you as all your frustration spills from you.

"Oh, is that why you fucked me? Because you didn't know and wanted to try something? Wanted to see if I was worth keeping around?" You ask. "Because you seemed to have a pretty good idea of what we were when you stuck your tongue down my throat, so please tell me what revelation you had that made you think you didn't have to tell me you were talking to the woman who left you with a baby."

"I didn't want to ruin our time together."

"Well, it's pretty fucking ruined now, isn't it?"

"You don't get it!" He raises his voice, and you throw up your hands in defeat as he turns his back to you. You groan and rub your face, looking up at the ceiling in hopes that some sentient being will smite you right then and there.

"Then, explain it to me, Joel." You say, and he shakes his head as he faces you. You think of the young Joel you saw in the picture you saw two weeks ago. The Joel who was a single dad working construction to afford formula for his daughter. The Joel who was in his early twenties and divorced and scorned. The Joel who wrote one of your favorite songs and released it alone, not knowing what his future would hold. That Joel is hard to find when you look at him now.

"She's sober. She has a steady job in Texas. She's finally gettin' back on her feet. I've been tryin' for eighteen years to get her to even pick up the fuckin' phone, and now here she is, and she's better. This could be a chance."

"A chance for what?"

"For us to be a family or, at least, for Sarah to have a relationship with her." He says, and you nod, biting the inside of your cheek. You’re not family. You’re an outsider, someone to hang around until Mom gets to come back and take what’s hers. You’re not permanent in the grand scheme of his family.

"Do you still love her?"

"What?"

"Do you still love her?" You repeat slowly. He gives you a look before running his thumb over an invisible ring on his left finger. It might've been a nervous habit, but you saw it. You saw the way he flinched when he felt skin instead of metal.

"I…" he starts. "I will always have love for her. I-"

"Oh, my God." You can't even stand to hear the rest of his sentence. You push your hair out of your face and start pacing.

"She's Sarah's mom!" He yells.

"And she left! She left and didn't give a shit about either of you, Joel! And now that you're famous and have money, she suddenly checks her inbox?!"

"You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Apparently, I don't know a lot," you say. He softens momentarily as the words hang in the air, and you shrug. You furiously wipe at your eyes as unauthorized tears roll down your cheeks. "I trusted you. I let you into my life. I told my fucking parents about you. Do you know how hard that was for me? Do you know how many years I spent protecting myself from this exact situation? But I trusted you not to do that. I," your voice catches in your throat, and Joel rushes over to put his hands on your arms. You know he's trying to rub his hands up and down your skin to soothe you, but you push him away, stumbling back from his touch. "I don't know where to go from here. I don’t know if there’s even anywhere for us to go after this.”

"We can work through this. We just needa talk bout it and figure somethings out, but we can move forward."

"No, we can't." You cry, and he gives you a confused look.

"Honey, look at me. Yes, we can."

"The contract is ending early. Apparently, your team is fucking ecstatic with how things are going and decided you don't need me anymore. That's what Melanie came to tell me before I fired her," you laugh, wiping your nose on your sleeve and letting out a sharp exhale. "I should've fired her a long time ago, but I did it today because she said I shouldn't be with you. It was my last straw, and I thought that not having any auditions or work lined up would be okay because this morning, I believed in us so hard that I was willing to endure that. I let myself make the stupid choice to be happy for once because I-" You cut yourself off. You can't even bear to think the words, let alone say them out loud. Joel stares at you with big watery eyes, but you can't find it in yourself to feel sorry enough for him to comfort him.

"I have to go. I can't be here right now."

"Please, just wait," he begs, and you shake your head, pulling your jacket closer to your body. He might've tried to say more, but you don't wait to hear it. You fly down the stairs, hiding your tears from the girls, and leave the house. You don't slam the door or throw one last comment Joel's way. You're sane enough to know not to put children in the crossfire of anything, let alone relationship problems.

Once you're at the curb outside of Joel's house, you let out a loud sob. Your hands shake as you pull your phone out of your pocket and hit the first number on speed dial. Ryan picks up on the third ring. The second he says your name, more tears fall down your face, and you feel like you can't breathe.

"What's going on?" He asks urgently, and you hiccup.

"Can you come get me, please? I don't... I can't go home. I don't want, fuck," you press your palm to your scorching forehead and try to force yourself to think. "I really need you."

"Stay where you are. I'm getting in the car now. Where are you?"

Ryan and Carolina hold your hands, rub your back, and offer you tissues as you tell them everything. The contract, the fake dates, the phone calls from Texas, New York, the girls, Melanie, Angela. Everything. They don't yell at you for lying about your relationship or blame you for what went down with Melanie. They just offer soft assurances that you're okay, and they love you. You cry through most of it, and they take turns holding you while you three sit at the dining room table.

You don't remember the last time you've cried this hard about anything. It feels like there's a gashing hole in your soul, and you're desperately trying to keep everything together so you don't lose it. And you want to blame it all on Joel because that would be easy—convenient. But you think that maybe this hole in you has always been there, and you've slowly been losing pieces of yourself without even realizing it.

You think Melanie took a lot of it, pawning your shiniest pieces for brand new Range Rovers and Birkin’s. You think you left a bit here and there every time a director pushed you too hard, and you sat in your trailer for hours, staring at the wall and wondering how you could feel so disconnected from your own body. And you think that more was taken in every unwanted picture taken of you, in every headline talking about your appearance or lack of a partner, in every interview question that had nothing to do with your work as a trained actor. You want to go around Los Angeles with invoices, demanding that people give you back to yourself because how dare they take those pieces. You want to gather them in a box and try to fit them together again like a puzzle with bent and missing connections. You want your fucking life back, but it’s not yours anymore. It’s theirs. Maybe it always was.

"I'm so stupid," you whisper as you stare at your hands. Carolina wraps her arms around your shoulders and presses her cheek to yours, the smell of her floral perfume and Elizabeth's baby lotion surrounding you.

"You're not stupid. Not by a long shot, okay?"

"God, why does this hurt so much? I feel like I'm dying."

"Because you love him," she says, like she didn't just destroy your world. You clench your jaw and try to stop yourself from crying more, but her soothing presence around you is enough for you to break. "You love him, and he loves you, and it's not enough to change anything."

"That's dismal." You try to laugh as you wipe at your eyes, and she nods. Ryan reaches across the table for your hand and holds it like it's fragile china.

"It's awful, and I wish I could take this pain from you. But, I swear to you, one day, you won't hurt like this. One day, you're gonna sing and dance again. You're gonna smile and laugh and make jokes again. You're gonna make beautiful art and fall in love with the way leaves fall, and you're gonna be okay."

"How do you know?" You ask.

"Because I know you."

Because I know you. Those four words scare you and make you grapple with the terrifying reality that they've seen the rotted parts inside you and still chose to love you. They remind you of how much you love them. They remind you of how much you love Joel, and it doesn't even matter because it will always end this way. It will always end this way, but it matters that the love was there. You wonder if it always will be. You wonder if one day you'll hear his song on the radio and be able to sing along. You wonder if he'll be able to see your movies. You wonder if supporting each other from afar is enough and decide that it has to be. There is no other choice. It will always end this way.

Carolina and Ryan let you sleep in the guest bedroom down the hall from them. The one that's always ready for you when you need it. The one with a pile of borrowed clothes with your name on it and the one with the soft sheets and extra quilts. You lay in the dark, your head throbbing with the weight of your tears, and you should be sleeping, but you're not. You're running through every single moment with Joel like you can will things to change. He fucked up. You both did. There are a million things you would change or take back, but Jesus Christ, were you happy.

You shake the tears out of your eyes and reach for your phone, ready to mindlessly scroll through social media until you feel the tiniest bit better. However, your email inbox flashes with an unopened message before you can get to Instagram. You furrow your brows and open the app to see an email from Melanie. You open it out of habit and almost immediately sit up in bed.

From: Melanie Lundquist

Subject Line: Opportunity

Pike's assistant reached out since I'm your last manager on record. The role's written specifically for you, so it's yours, without a doubt. Don't say I never did anything for you.

-Mel

Attachment: THE_BEGINNING_OF_THE_END_R.PIKE

Richard Pike wrote you a role. An Oscar-winning producer wrote you a role. You immediately open the document and begin reading. You really should be asleep, especially after the day you've had with reshoots, but you can't stop devouring the words. It's about a young woman dealing with the survivor's guilt of living through a terrorist attack, mental health, and substance abuse issues. She's angry, sad, and hard to love at times, but she's also so fucking funny and caring. She's dynamic and heartbreaking and raw. She's everything you've ever wanted in a role.

You stay up reading and crying over her story, feeling her pain so deep in your heart that it hurts. When you get to the end of the script, the sun is slowly rising, and you're almost certain that you'll die of dehydration, but you don't care. You find Pike's assistant's email address and tell her you need this role. Surprisingly, she writes back not even ten minutes later despite it being almost six in the morning.

Happy to hear it. Mr. Pike will produce the movie, but Mrs. Liliah Hanover will be directing and working with you directly. I will pass the message along to her team. Shooting begins at the beginning of next month in Ireland. The expected film time is six-twelve months, and housing will be provided upon arrival. Are you still interested?

For some reason, you type back a single, enthusiastic "yes!" before locking your phone and falling asleep for fifteen hours.

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel #tlou au #the last of us au #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #the last of us hbo

246 notes · View notes

hanayanaa · 8 months

Text

V ISNT DEAD GUYS!!! : )

ALWAYS BACK UP YOUR DENIAL WITH PROOF AND EVIDENCE KIDS

1) well okay, first off, the classic rule that if a character dies off screen, they're probably not dead. classic time tested rule!

2) they made so much merch of her, not to mention she's literally the face of the franchise as one of the first characters liam made for the show. They aren't going to kill off such an iconic and integral character this early on. remember, we still have SEVERAL more seasons to go!

3) the lyrics of eternal dream, which are supposedly about V's inner thoughts and wishes, states that she is tired of this dream (life), which is more of a nightmare for her. I'm going to annotate the entirety of it on genius sometime this week hopefully /srs, but the last line is "I can't end this dream", a desperate cry, for she can't escape her living nightmare, where she is hurt and used and traumatized so much, but also, in our case, potential evidence of her coming back? nola klop, her va, also said that this version isn't the whole song, since she mentions being excited for the full version. and since it's about V, a full version, along with that line, implies she will return. mostly that latter point though, ill admit the single line might be a stretch LOLL but i figured eh might as well include it...

4) J's still off reading about stock prices or whatever in tessa's space ship lol. J's doing J things and she might've gotten bored and went exploring and ended up finding and saving V. we literally have no idea what she's doing besides getting a command to look after tessa's vehicle, which she can probably do from a relative distance. she's stated as a workaholic, but that means she'd also probably get bored quickly if she has nothing to actively do, if there isn't anything for her to be actively guarding, she might wander off while simply occasionally checking the ship. (I also want more J too she's so fucking funny)

5) she had her eyes closed during the final scene where we see her! If she had kept them closed, then she should be fine in regards to getting bootlooped at least. maybe she was scared, or was embarrassed in a way, not wanting herself or anyone else to see her in this raw, vulnerable state she hates and fears so much. and unless the sentinels tear out her heart/core, she'll probably be fine and can regenerate herself. (side note: alice has an id card like nori and yeva, doll's mother. she was one of the patient zero drones who were purposefully infected with solver in order to see it's effects and conduct research, so she'll probably be back as well, considering she's most likely a solver user. beau might be back, i can't say for sure, all depends if she decides to revive him or not. the disassembly drone corpses in cabin fever labs were probably because alice used a combination of sentinels and solver manipulation to take them down and remove their hearts, which we can see she keeps in an old oven, which is why they can't regenerate themselves anymore and are effectively dead. the hearts are the "worm" thing uzi mentioned would come out of V if alice cut her up.)

6) while the show itself has a lot of gags, it's also brimming with genuine love for detail and lore, like they're fucking around, but they're also not fucking around. V has a lot to tell us still, since she's been extremely mysterious and quiet about her own personal past, probably due to trauma and being terrified of being vulnerable, since she was so often hurt when she let her guard down. a lot of things about her aren't really directly mentioned, and are just IMPLIED, the most prominent examples being her genuine inner thoughts, since there are many zoom-ins to her face and expressions, but we are only left to guess on what she's really thinking. so they're not going to let her go just yet; in fact, i think the next episode will be one centered around her (probably more flashbacks? who knows, but i think since she's been important, but not centered on really until now, she'll recieve her own time in the spotlight.)

7) similar to the point above, her character arc is far from over, and if she were to die now, it'd be a crime against her character and the entire story. she was and still is a vital part of the team, but everyone else was so wrapped up in their own plans or infatuations that poor V ended up getting almost completely ignored. even though she loves everyone deep down, and protects them with her life, she never once got a thank you, or asked how she's doing, or anything. all she got was mostly light arguements and insults back-- the last thing uzi said to her was "you, ew! you're mean!", while the last thing V said to uzi was "uzi, I trust you." one could argue that because of her snarky attitude, she's kind of walking into these scuffles, but...really? no one ever stopped for one second to think about that person right next to them and think about who they are beyond that snark? not even N, who's been with her since the beginning, and openly admitted to having a crush on her? or tessa, her superior, who presumably rescued her from the dump, gave her clothes and hair and companionship? she squealed upon seeing N, but didn't give a single glance at V aside from an argument near the end of the episode, and a reflection of V looking solemnly back in her helmet. i genuinely think that because of these mistakes, she'll come back... eventually, at least, so hopefully they can learn from their mistakes and treat her better this time around, for they are getting a second chance, and everyone can slowly start healing together. V has a very broken heart, so for her to fully heal, i unfortunately don't think that will happen for a long time, but she can begin the process slowly, if her teammates start treating her more kindly, as a peer, someone whose thoughts and opinions and feelings matter too, rather than just someone to be snarky and argued with.

to summarize, she has an almost 99.9% chance of coming back because she's the face of the franchise, along with having a bunch of merchandise, it'd be kind like of shooting yourself in the foot to kill off the literal most iconic character, the literal icon. the final lyrics of eternal dream and the mention from her va that this current version isn't even the full length version, implies V will come back, especially since the song is from her point of view. lastly, her character arc is far from over, since while being a vital part of the team, her teammates have been ignoring her for the most part ever since episode 2, even though she's been there with them this entire time. bringing her back gives everyone a chance to make it up to her, and brings both parties to a point of healing. lastly, her character arc aside, she has much to tell us about the lore, since she is implied to know and be hiding a lot, but since she is so mysterious due to her painful past, it is hard for her to open up. the last two points are connected, as if she is more comfortable, she'll open up more, revealing more about the lore and story along with it.

Out of all the characters ive loved throughout the years, i genuinely do think she is the most tragic one. considering the only real decision she was ever allowed to make was sacrificing herself to the sentinels, possibly in an attempted suicide to finally end all of the pain welled up in her heart? yeah.

she's probably one of my favourite characters of all time, even though ive only recently watched it, she has already made a permanent mark on my heart. i really, truly do hope that she comes back, because she deserves it. she deserves to heal and be appreciated for who she is, and she deserves a space where she's comfortable enough to let down her walls and be her honest self again. i think if she comes back, we'll see a much more vulnerable and timid side of her we haven't seen before except for occasional rare moments. she'll still be snarky, but it'll take her a while to recover from the initial shock of all her emotional turmoil surrounding her sacrifice, as well as get used to all the new attention she's getting. after that, however, she'll recover and start healing and come back as a stronger, happier, and still very snarky V. ♡

102 notes · View notes

jmdbjk · 1 year

Text

Oh, Jimin...

These are my personal impressions, thoughts, interpretations and opinions on Jimin’s solo FACE album. Some of the things I say here are built on things I know from past original content, interviews and what Jimin has shared personally. Some of it is just me reveling in my first experience with Jimin’s long awaited album.

It is such a serious album. Jimin said this is the story of what he was feeling, chronologically, 2020-2022, during the pandemic era. At the beginning of 2020, BTS was rising higher than any Korean artist ever had before and then all of a sudden the momentum came to a halt, and there was nothing. Having the life you’ve known suddenly jerked away from you is traumatizing.

Once the king of social media, Jimin almost ceased by the end of 2020 and never went back. “Oh, he just outgrew it.” No, the man was struggling with his issues and not only did he not need to see the extra crap spewed all over social media but he had nothing left to give, nothing left inside.

I noticed how Jimin looked physically back in 2020. He was downright frail y’all. The man was trying to give us what we wanted at the expense of his mental and physical health. That breakdown he had during the ending ments in Memories 2020 was too much. They were all stressed out, but Jimin... those that said he was being over dramatic... the man was struggling with his mental health.

I wrote this last June, 2022 but never posted it:

After Memories 2020 dropped, we’ve heard Jimin say he struggled after everything got canceled. Days upon days that turned into months upon months and more than two years passed before they finally returned to in-person performances. He stated that during isolation and lockdowns he wondered what was the purpose of his life, or that he had lost his purpose.

Jimin’s struggles were most likely much more severe than he let on and he 100% kept it to himself because he didn’t want us to worry about him. That sounded like solo delusional projection but think about Jimin and how he’s behaved in the past...always telling us not to worry. Always saying things to reassure us that he’s happy, he eats well, don’t worry.

There was no working, no performing, their lives and his life changed drastically overnight just like all of ours did. Would we ever get back to normal? What will happen in the future? When will all of this end?

Face-Off

The album opens with a carnival calliope, it was a little jarring and unexpected. The images it conjured in my brain as the notes played were of a worn out circus winding down. It made me think of the big wild circus that WAS his life, and it just wound down and keeled over.

Knowing the premise of the album, I think the title, Face-Off, implies Jimin is looking at himself. Speaking to himself. The lyrics could also imply he is speaking to someone else, like people he once trusted. But I don’t think so.

He was having a confrontation with himself. Reasoning and bargaining with himself.

Maybe he once trusted himself but in this time and place in which he finds himself, he questions what is he doing? and second guessing himself. Day in and day out, the days are all the same nothingness. Hiding his feelings, faking it, pretending it was all ok. It’s all cool. It’ll be all right. He has said many times he looks back at that time and thinks he could have done more for the fans. Being hard on himself. His own worst critic.

And then this enters the picture: using alcohol to self-medicate. Getting drunk. Numbing the pain. Forgetting. Drink all night. Oh, Jimin...

We know he has a very high alcohol tolerance. He once mentioned that he used to drink a lot. When he declined the champagne during the live after the Busan concert, we all made jokes about it and moved on. Oh, Jimin.

Face-Off feels like it could have been a purging song when he wrote it. A little primal, you know... just scream, get it out. Painful but cathartic.

This is the lyric that was scary: “tonight is a beautiful night, I think I’m close (or I think I have it all/I think I’ve found myself)” were chilling to me because they did not come across as optimistic, they came across as being at the end of one’s rope after becoming a shell of a person. He follows that line with “tonight I don’t want to be sober.” Oh, Jimin.

His vocals open very low and moody then transition to a plaintive cry, punctuated with anger.

Pour it down, pour it out... the anger, the emotions, the words, just pour it out.

Interlude: Dive

Like the calliope that sadly wound down, Dive opens with the melody slowly winding back up to speed. Another day starting. Someone knocks, voices, the ambience of a normal day, breathing, running footsteps. The crowd cheering and Jimin’s voice during his ending ments at the Busan concert, more sounds of people in his life. We hear Jimin’s footsteps trudging, it sounds like we hear him climbing steps, entering his house, closing the door, and first thing he does when he is alone in the quiet is pour a drink and drinking deeply. I am concerned.

Maybe it is supposed to represent the closing of Chapter 1, about a day in the past that was once a “normal” day, since it included the last things he said during that concert.

The music track is dreamlike, repetitive. Living in a dream. Every day. Same thing. Go home. Drink. Do it again. Dive means go deep. In deep. He’s in deep.

There is a very subtle line between drinking in order to make it through another day/night versus drinking to relax and wind down. A slippery slope to walk on every single day.

We’ve transitioned from the world changing overnight to living in a daze trying to pretend everything is ok. Coping.

Like Crazy

(I am going to express my thoughts using the English version of the song.)

Jimin has explained the song is influenced by the movie of the same name.

I have learned that the dialogue from the movie was NOT original to the movie but hired voice actors specifically for the song: “I think we can last forever.” “I’m afraid that everything will disappear.” “Just trust me.” And at the end: “How long again?” “What’s the point?”

He has said the dialogue that was used fit the message of the song. I have not seen the movie. I don’t think the song is a literal interpretation of the movie. I think the song’s basic concept is the emotional struggle trying to maintain a dream. But maintaining a dream is unrealistic no matter what you do to try to make it last. Jimin had to come to terms with that.

Jimin’s vocals begin very light and airy, very dreamy.

[God, he’s fine.]

The vibe of the song is sort of retro, very much evokes the artist, The Weeknd. It has a very 80′s synth beat. It is a very danceable song. Like I said, on the surface.... very dreamy.

Vocals transition and it still seems like he’s having a conversation with himself, or with a voice within himself. A voice telling him to “trust me, follow me... I will make it good for you.” Me: gives a side eye to that voice in Jimin’s head because now I know it’s not trustworthy. “I’ll take the pressure off, been reaching for the stars.” Chasing that high. Go easy, Jimin. Please be careful.

Yes, the lyrics are also very sexy... “give me a good ride,” and “Let me have a taste.” Yep, I’m with ya on all that... ahem...

[Wow]

[side note: I love the make up in the bathroom scene with that stroke of silver under his eye.]

“All my reflections, I can’t even recognize.” ...what he sees of himself is not reality. He doesn’t recognize himself. Don’t try to save me. I want to stay like this.

To me, the mud on the floor, the mud flowing down the walls, the mud on the hand that grabs his wrist at the beginning of the song, the mud on his hand at the end... could represent his perceived imperfections, flawed, therefore dirty: his struggle to cope, his less than perfect thoughts... substance abuse... the struggle that he needs to be perfect on the outside or the attempt to appear perfect on the outside but there’s all this dirt on the inside that he can’t hide any longer.....the huge pile of mud at his feet is out of place in the otherwise normal room of his life. Becoming overwhelming for him.

Some of the visuals of this song are, to put it bluntly, very, not heterosexual. Again, these are just my impressions and opinions. But a friend pointed out the photo on the front of his pants and I went looking for information about the art photographer, Robert Mapplethorpe. He was heavily involved in New York’s gay BDSM scene. Some of the things written about him:

“In a rapidly changing society, he fearlessly confronted taboos surrounding gender, sexuality and mortality, seeking to instill beauty and dignity into subjects that lay outside accepted social norms.”

“... a man who consistently brought his audience face to face with the unknown and the unseen.”

The song ends with him reaching toward the camera to smear it with the mud to hide his imperfect self. When Jimin puts his face in front of the camera, he doesn’t want us to see his imperfections. He wants to be as perfect as he can, he says it all the time, he wants to look pretty for us, but I hope he has realized we accept him as a real human being even with his very human imperfections.

Alone

The alarm clock goes off...yet another day...doesn’t trust the people even if they are nice to him...he’s lost...day in day out... passing out drunk and not remembering...what am I doing? am I the only one feeling like this? Alone, pretending to be ok...every day the same...how much more until I can go back to before? Feeling more and more isolated within his own mind, pretending to be ok but losing himself every day. Mayday. The cry for help. Telling himself it will be all right (we all told ourselves this back then). The small nagging voice that doesn’t believe it.

Realizing you’ve changed and you are never going back to the way you were before.

Not gonna lie, that line right there broke my heart. Gives new meaning to Set Me Free Pt. 2′s line: "raise your hands for the past me.”

He was in so much trouble and no one knew. He reassured us over and over that he was fine. Not to be over-dramatic but I don’t want to think about how close he was... I have seen a few people say this song really resonated with them. It is a very powerful cry for help.

Jimin’s vocals blew me away. The vocals start out very subdued, almost beaten down. His vocal fry squeezes my heart. He ends crying out “what do I have to do to end this darkness?” Bad twilight. Night’s can be hard.

Set Me Free Pt. 2

From my post on March 17, 2023:

Going insane to stay sane. Raise your hands for the past me. Now set me free. This is where I literally cried. Oh, Jimin.

Going crazy trying to fake being ok.

Now I know this song is about him saving himself, setting himself free from this prison he was in, the depression, breaking the chains of alcohol dependency, of telling the naysayers out there and his own internal naysayer to go fuck themselves, Park Jimin is back. Strong and beautiful and fierce. The light of the moon shining on us.

We know he still considers soju his joy. He sounds like he’s taken control, not totally abstaining, but in control. I only wish the rest of his days are happiness and stable mental health well-being.

Letter

So unexpected. I was in shock. My heart floated away.

People talk about how Jimin’s album has no collabs on it, unlike the previous member’s solo work. My opinion is, when you are sharing deeply intimate feelings and emotions and struggles about yourself you don’t want or need other people/voices on your song. It’s not appropriate.

The only exception to this was… Jungkook…not exactly a collab, but he’s there. The other songs used background vocalists who are not members of BTS.

This song was hidden. Yes, there have been other hidden songs. But come on...

Letter has a strong stroke of Promise in the “oh, oh.” And when Jungkook starts singing it is like the world is set right because those two voices blend like nothing else I’ve ever heard. And he comes in in the middle of the song gently supporting Jimin’s vocals. But unmistakably Jungkook. I know it’s up to interpretation, but for me, the lyrics from then on take on something a little extra in meaning with Jungkook there singing with Jimin.

You held your hand out to me and now I will hold on to you. So simple and beautiful. The sounds of the surf remind me of the song “Okinawa” that Jimin posted once. Which also reminds me of their pics at Santa Monica beach...

Letter seems to be an actual letter. When the members told him to write it down, put it in a song, maybe Jimin’s first impulse was to write it as if it was a letter. The lyrics are simple and very to the point and convey:

“...though I’m not good with words, I want to sincerely say let’s make each other happier. You who showed me I am bigger than my small self. You've been by my side and I will be by yours. I hope we stay together until the cold winter. Though the future is unknown and scary, let’s stay together. Never forget we’re together.”

There are references to past songs: Sea, Spring Day. Both of those songs were from 2017.

But Jungkook. On a Jimin song. That was hidden. Clever. That we had no idea about...even though Kookie knocked us over the head with it when he played the guitar for us, making sure we knew he’d only had one lesson. Who do you think gave him that first guitar lesson? Jimin... and Kookie blurting out some English in his last live... who do you think he’s been practicing English with? Duh, Jimin.

It was a hidden song AND the credits were hidden on the page in the book. They were printed in varnish only, which is basically shiny, clear ink.

You know what I think? Jungkook knew about this song since Festa dinner. The teasing about not being offered the chance to listen to the song. That little shit. I KNOW IT WAS THIS SONG!! I JUST KNOW IT!! This was the rumored subunit. Or at least one of them. I guess we’ll eventually see if there are any more between the others.

They sound so beautiful together. I love them. And as I keep saying, they are fine… they’ve been fine.

Last words...

Anyway, that was a lot of words. Maybe I got too deep. Jimin explained himself about how the album originated.

As I was telling my friend earlier...everything in this album has peeled a layer, or several layers, away from EVERYTHING I've seen and heard from Jimin and the group since 2020. I had written some things in the past, like last June and even before that, about how Jimin seemed not well mentally. Things that I had no business saying in public because who the hell am I to think I can say something like that about someone I have never met? So I never posted those words. I never thought I would be so close to the mark in thinking those things. He’s been through it, wrote songs about it, and moved on. And I am so proud of him and this album.

#jimin face #face-off #like crazy #i'm so proud of jimin #if they were trying to quash any ships this was not the way to go about it #i said that after hickey-gate too #also jikook #did i mention i am so proud of jimin?#and kookie is so funny

263 notes · View notes

bettyshoweduptotheparty · 11 days

Text

Reputation to Midnights and Final TPD Predictions

With 4 days until the Tortured Poets Department and two lines of lyrics we have so far, here are my thoughts on how we got here over the last 5 albums and final predictions for what's coming on Friday:

2016 changed the game - reputation era and long-term bearding

Many people might disagree, but I think the year 2016 changed a lot of things for Taylor. Without going into detail about snakegate, a possible failed coming out and scrapped album and the presidential election, her music has had a different tone ever since reputation (and I don't just mean sonically). As someone who writes a lot about love and relationships, the way she was writing about them changed from fairy tale love, pining and heartbreak to forever/long-term love, commitment/endame, 'us against the world' sort of love. And I do think she wanted to put that album out in 2016 but can't really do that when you're newly single and writing about wanting forever with someone... so in came Joe Alwyn who became the free pass for writing songs about long-term relationships, marriage and kids for the next six years. But LWYMMD (the song and the mv) made it pretty clear that this was not her first choice. Whatever happened, she had her agency taken from her, and she was mad about it. She may have made one hell of a comeback, but rep Taylor was on a revenge mission, and she has been ever since. Now, add to that the very same people foiled her coming out (possibly) a second time in 2019, I can well imagine the tortured poet that Taylor became during the pandemic with all that built up anger and misery pouring out into the folklore and evermore albums. And my guess is that with the plan to re-record the first 6 albums came an idea of how she could possibly get her revenge after all, which brings us to Midnights and TPD.

Midnights and Tortured Poets Department - Reflection and melancholia

Midnights had a similar tone to me than what we have seen of TPD so far: introspective, sombre and looking back on happier times and missed opportunities (hence the whole '13 nights throughout my life' concept). There is a lot of wondering about what ifs and regrets and always with a sense of vengeance in the background, which shows how Taylor clearly holds a grudge and has a hard time letting things go that have hurt her. And this continues in the two lines we have seen from TPD so far. The 'full eclipse' gives me love blackout vibes and this line

is so similar to many folkmore and Midnights songs where she talks about not being able to move on from a traumatic event (failed coming out *cough cough*). So, this album clearly continues the theme of reflection, regrets and vengeance, but with an additional touch of reckoning or impending judgment. I've seen some people say it seems like Taylor is putting someone (else or herself) on trial, and both the evidence file esthetics and the legal language she has been using in the hidden words puzzle on Apple Music have been feeding that theory:

She told us back in February she'd be entering all of her defenses and her muses into evidence, so is she the one being trialed and we are the jury? Or is she presenting evidence in her defense and accusing someone else? I initially thought the former, but now I'm thinking it could be either or both.

The songs will tell the story of the most painful times of her life and we will be able to decide if she chose her suffering or if the context/industry is to blame. My favourite swifties pointed out this morning that the ‘un-recall’ lyric is a parallel to CIWYW “I recall late November”. So what is she trying to forget? The 2016 election. The start of the love blackout. Much like the ‘full eclipse’ lyric. They almost had it all but then her plans got foiled and Tr*mp was elected which forced them underground. And where did she run off to? London. And what’s track 5 called? So long, London…

So, a lot of this album so far gives 2016 vibes. And I’ve said in a previous post (here) that the visuals seem very rep-inverted. Black vs white and the half yin-yang ☯️ in the logo. It’s looking likely that this is going to be the reflection on that time where her vendetta originated before she goes for revenge. And I’m not trying to clown but the rep parallels haven’t stopped:

This QR code mural in Chicago is very rep-cover coded and leads to a website that has the same 321 error message as the TS website the night of the Grammys. The message then was red herring. And not to sound too crazy, but I've said from the start that something feels off with this album. The absence of proper promo or merch is still weird. And would an entire album as a red herring be too crazy? Probably. But is she a crazy woman? Definitely! 😉

#tortured poets department #tpd #reputation #midnights #final thoughts and predictions

51 notes · View notes

atxxzist · 1 year

Text

broken | c.s (10)

prev // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: 6.5k

warning: u r gonna have 2 read to find out (nothing traumatizing tho i promise!)

"so, you were playing tags with the kids and fell?"

"yes."

you vividly recall the lies you told your friends--how you got the cut on your knees being one of them amongst others--but they were just happy you made it back safely and didn't get any more hurt than that.

after returning to seoul, your days are back to being nothing short of mundane tasks, hanging with your friends and enduring yunho's constant whines because minji had to go back, and then the mostly lazing around in your room and doing anything to pass time.

but with your eyes stuck to the ceiling and your head hitting the back of your pillow for the majority, your mind can't help but to wander.

wander back to the trip and how sweet and caring san was. his lips that spoke genuine words toward you, and his eyes that showed something much deeper in them. something much more than just physical touches and empty sex; something that could've fooled anyone into thinking he's in love with you.

but by now, you've learned to not keep your head too high because choi san will only give you false hopes, never failing to remind you of what exactly the relationship between you and him really is--if his silence ever since the trip speaks of anything.

no texts, no calls; no renditions of such thing that will give away you were just in his arms a week ago. but you've come to terms with it that it is fine; unsure if the small ache is disappointment (if that's even possible anymore) or just being sad overall.

but again, you've accepted the situation to some degree.

you focus on integrating yourself back into the school mindset where academic achievements were the center of your universe (for the most part), since the semester is around the corner again.

and because the semester is around the corner, mingi and yunho wanted to check out a place; a noodle restaurant recommended by a friend of mingi, eager to go because of all the positive reviews.

"so how do we do this? paper rock scissors and whoever loses have to pay?" mingi quirks, one eyebrows raised and flipping through the menu.

"nah. y/n makes the most money, this is her treat to us," yunho says, to which you react with a scowl.

"says who? i don't even have work during summer."

"what happened to that program you were talking about?" mingi throws in your face, and it's only until then that you remember the 'summer program' you supposedly came back from.

"that was less than a week and we don't get paid much compared to the regular hours," you save yourself, somewhat even proud for having thought of a lie so fast on the spot.

mingi rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"greedy. you are so fucking greedy."

you shrug, unable to help it all.

"well, i'm sorry. i've never had this much money before."

"don't make this dark now."

it's your turn to roll your eyes.

"fine, i'll pay. but nothing over ten dollars."

"stingy too, how unfortunate," mingi mutters, provoking a kick to his ankle from you under the table, lasering a glare in return.

in spite of all the teasing and snarky remarks, because you have a soft spot for him and is silently thankful for all mr. song had done for you, you give in and let him order three bowls of naengmyeon, two of which he's probably not even going to finish.

yunho on the other hand is nice enough to spare your wallet a little, settling on only one that's enough for the evening.

summer feels like it's passing by in a blink of an eye. like it was just yesterday that you, mingi, and yunho were fighting over what to do and where to go. now all of a sudden, you're going to be back on campus soon enough, wallowing in the pit of assignments and exams that will eat away your mental health.

it's an awful vision, because you don't want to let go of this summer.

mingi and yunho are chatting about their library assistant jobs, and you're listening with attentive ears, chopsticks poking at your noodles when a buzz goes off in your bag.

your body reacts first, eyes shooting to your friends who's still lost in the conversation, knowing it can't be them who texted you. and unless yuna is coming home early, there's only one other person who has your number.

🟣: hey 🙂 are you free to call tonight? i want to talk to you abt something. lmk.

y/n: i'm out right now but should be back soon. i'll let you know

🟣: sounds good! talk to you then 💕

it's relieving until it's not. the highs and lows alternating like getting a hit of your favorite drug before the effect wears off and you just feel nothing. numb. all too used to it, aware it's not good for you but unable to stop.

how long will it go on before declaring that something so temporary and unsecured is unfulfilling, no matter how good the high is.

not anytime soon, unfortunately.

you text him with excitement upon the return, the dinner over a lot earlier than you had expected; yunho having talked about some paperworks he still has to finish, and mingi for finishing all three bowls and groaning about the food coma he's going through.

y/n: just got back. call me whenever

you sit with a fluttering kind of excitement, thinking about what could possibly be this important to prompt a call from san this late, but also honestly just ecstatic to hear from him again.

it takes a few minutes before the ring of your phone starts, having answered so fast, there's no way he doesn't know you were sitting in nothingness just waiting for his call.

"hey," he greets from the other side.

"hey," you respond just short of a shy whisper.

"i hope i'm not prolonging sleep for you."

"no, you're good. i'm not even that tired."

you wonder if san really cares whether you're getting sleep or not or if it's just proper courtesy to act like he does when he took a girl out on a week-long trip, only to disregard her completely after like the moments and hours spent with each other means nothing.

"no worries, i'll make this fast," he says, clearing his throat. "wooyoung's throwing another party before school starts, and i called to ask if you want to come with? it's going to be a couple days from now, so you'll have plenty of time to be prepared."

it's quiet as you take the time to think, knowingly aware of the fact that taking up the offer to be seen publicly with san at wooyoung's party has a lot of things at stake.

"no pressure, just thought i'd ask," he adds when the silence only stretches on.

"i'll be there," you say so suddenly, like all the thoughts and logics from before flying out your head just for the one chance to see the boy who made you question so many things within the past few days.

"okay, cool. i'll text you the detail when the time comes."

you don't get anything from san until the day before the actual party.

a simple text from him about picking you up and when it's going to start so you will have the time to compose yourself for the loud and obnoxious setting of what one usually consists of.

you have made sure to double check when you were exiting the dorm building that nobody you know happened to coincidentally see you get into his car--a fight with your friends with only a few weeks left of summer not on your wishlist.

you guys arrive a little past 8 p.m., san proceeding to drag you through the house almost the same way mingi did; brushing past the hoard of drunk people, whatever they're smoking, and the flashy lights that comes in all colors.

you catch a sighting of that old couch that was the best company at both the event you attended prior, pushed against the wall and a lot discolored this time around.

with the amount of parties wooyoung probably throws, you're honestly impressed it's still even intact.

but you're quick to pry away, moving back around only to hit right into san's back at the sudden stop. he turns to you and giggles at the wide look on your face, having noticed your curious eyes that would roam each passing scene.

"we can stay in here, it's a lot less crowded," he says, and you nod in return, doing a once-over of the room and recognizing the kitchen where you first talked to him. a place so bittersweet.

"i'm gonna go get us drinks first. punch or beer?"

"i'll take some punch."

"alright. i'll be back."

you watch him disappear behind the crowd of people and begin looking for a spot to settle in.

there's two guys over at the corner with red solo cups, chatting away and seemingly paying no attention to anyone else. then another pair of girls by the counters also engaged in a conversation.

while it's not your definition of peace and quiet, you'll take it over the rave going on just a couple feet outside.

you prop against the counter closest to the sink and wait until you can see san's figure making its way back in, one cup in each hand and walking to where you are.

"thank you," you utter as he hands you yours, placing his on the empty space and settling in front of you, observing as you take a slight sip.

"they changed the flavor," you comment, licking some remains off your lips.

"yeah, every once in a while," he replies, taking a swig of his cup before putting it down again.

you nod, biting down your bottom lip and thinking of what to say next; another question at the tip of your tongue again.

"do you uh... come to these parties often?"

he was here all of the two times you came and talked about them on more than one occasion. you suppose, it's only a given someone like him would come to a place full of entertainment; each passing person walking with confidence and unfazed by anything.

after all, he is the life of the party.

"once or twice a week. sometimes three."

the numbers leaving him like they're small quantities. but two or three definitely sounds like a lot, especially if you're talking about a party of this size. you wonder just how much resources wooyoung is wasting.

"i see..." you simply mumble, quiet under your breath.

"how's your knee?" he asks, prompting you to take a quick glance at it, the once before red color turning into a lighter pink, and the pain feeling like a much dull one.

"it's healing."

he nods, attention moving to down another sip.

"did your friends ask?"

"they did, but they bought the story i told them."

he chuckles and shakes his head, a smirk creeping up.

"you know, you're a lot more cunning than you let on."

"i must be around you too much," you tease with the subtle jab, cranking the volume of his laughter as he stares at you so charmingly. and charming he is indeed, you have officially lost count of the amount of partygoers that would flock to the kitchen to greet him; talk to him, like he's the brightest flame in the room. a complete people magnet.

you can only deliver small, awkward head exchanges with them while san oozes all the confidence and charisma in the world. you will always be amazed at how someone like san and mingi can just talk to anyone.

the small smile on your face can't be helped, watching him in his natural element, making something inside of you churn with admiration but a painful realization all at once.

his eyes peers across the room, bidding goodbyes to the ones leaving and then hello's to the next person to come in, all while your gaze only hold his as if he has all the answers to your problems--like he's the embodiment of hope.

you're also drawn to him; his brightly lit flame, no different to any others in the room.

"this is y/n." san's voice snaps you out, blinking your lashes to a boy whose hair is bleached in blonde and staring at you with equally amusing eyes, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

"she's cute," he comments courtly, parting with a smile and going off to join the two from before at the corner, their introductions audibly out of your range.

"that's chris," san starts again, your attention moving back to him. "he's studying abroad, but just thought i'd let you know of his existence because you're going to see him quite a bit if you're going to start attending more of these."

you only hum in acknowledgement and nod, not stressing too much about having to remember chris or anything, unsure how many more of these parties you'll be showing up to.

little do you know, this party will be the start of all rendezvous between you and san, all of them similar in a way but each with their own variations.

yuna returns two days before classes officially starts.

attempting to roll in her pink suitcase, sunhat, and jumpsuit, she announces her arrival to your figure still stuck on your bed with feet kicking into the air as you randomly jot down your new schedule onto your notebook.

"hey, you're back," you cry out, jumping right out of bed to help her squeeze through the doorway.

"yes i am."

"how was the trip?"

she sighs, throwing her hat off to the end of her bed where it lands perfectly.

"good for the most part. i would've gotten back earlier but the flight from japan to korea got delayed due to some weather issues. then my father lost his ticket and had to repurchase. but overall decent."

you laugh, reaching behind to shut the door.

"good to hear."

yuna almost forgot what she was going to do until she catches the notebook sitting openly on your sheet.

"oh, right!" you watch with an intrigued gaze as she digs through the bag on her shoulder.

"i got you something."

you can't even be surprised by the act. it's just so yuna of her for you to joke about something and her to actually do it.

"you didn't have to. i was just kidding around."

she shakes her head and pulls the item out: a new and shiny notebook covered in yellow with cartoon characters on the front, a lot thicker in appearance and holding much more pages.

"no worries. i wanted to. saw it while in japan and automatically thought of you."

the way your heart pulls together at the act of kindness brings about the biggest smile on your face, you could almost leap in and give her a hug.

"thank you," you say, so soft and tender, the idiot smile still haven't left.

"of course! i wanted to get you something computer-related but i don't know much about those, so i apologize. i saw you writing in your notebook a lot so i figured maybe you like writing."

you chuckle in response, thinking to yourself that for someone who's rarely ever around, she's awfully observant, even picking it out in your favorite color.

"well, i'm glad you didn't because i am traumatized by it. i changed my major a while ago."

"oh?" she perks with some form of fascination. "to writing?"

"yes. creative writing."

"you know, i have an uncle who runs a firm and he's always looking for technical writers for their products, as well as for their website and whatnot. i mean, i don't know if that's exactly creative writing, but if that's something that piques your interest, let me know."

"isn't that like... nepotism?" you're joking for the most part but also with a genuine curioisity about being able to secure a job because of your rich friend. but then again, your current job was only because of san as well.

"i have no idea, but if you're decent, my uncle has no reason to not hire you. food for thought. if you want to wait until graduation, that's fine too. just let me know."

the one day left of summer is spent fulfilling a promise you made to mingi and yunho about catching a movie at the theater. a new, better, theater with adjustable seatings and the outside not littered with graffitis.

it's a little bit more costly, but you all agreed it was worth it.

the walk back to the dorms is pure torture for you, both of the boys unable to stop the teasing about your sudden passion for writing.

for as long as they've known you, that's definitely one they've never heard before, bringing up all the times you'd stick to reading picture books (because to be a good writer is to read a lot according to them) and struggled writing a 500 words essay.

"you guys literally can't expect me to be the same person a year or so ago. my interests can change, and my brain is still developing. mingi, you're a psychology major, you should know that!" you shriek in defense.

"well, yes, but, there's just some changes about you lately. tell us, when did this interest start?"

you roll your eyes, a deep groan leaving.

"do you guys have to know every detail?"

"obviously yes, so we can talk you out of it, miss wannabe nobel prize winner in literature."

"mingi, literally shut the fuck up. you gave one advice and suddenly you're a psycologist."

"hey, it's all working out so far, isn't it?"

yunho laughs at the banter, waiting until he's in the clear to say something.

"we're kidding. well, i'm kidding. anything you write, i'll be happy to read. even if it's just prince charming coming on a horse to save you."

mingi snickers.

"don't give her ideas now."

"i literally hate the both of you."

intro to creative writing. whether it's to prove both of your friends wrong, or to console yourself that you're worthy of yuna's offer, you want to take it seriously; dive into it that's more than just the short entries in your notebook or the vivid imagination in your head.

thankfully, within just an hour into the class, you can say the environment is a lot more friendly and welcoming. a good divide of both males and females and everyone definitely looks a lot more approachable.

the first week of classes is nothing special. instructors usually just taking the time to go over the course schedule and what's to be expected.

the second week is when you start kind of getting into the gist of it. the class tasked with a short literary piece and dissecting the meaning behind it.

it's not anything exciting, but is an overall improvement to your experience so far.

the third week is when you get another text from san. when you're mostly busy and occupied, it's easy to not think of him. but when he reminds you of his existence again, it's hard to think of anything but him--which is the problem.

he tells you of the party that usually happens at the beginning of the semester, and you're starting to think they have one for just any occasion. or maybe wooyoung just needs a reason to keep throwing these parties.

you're hesitant at first, unsure about spending your night at a place full of alcohol, weed, and people who probably doesn't remember their name since that's the last thing that should be on your mind if you want to take your courses more seriously.

but all it takes is another plead from san for you to fold pathetically, arriving at the party with him hand in hand.

it plays out all the same, with him pulling you through the open spaces and greeting the few he knows along the way, big dimples and a handsome smile before excusing himself to go off with you to the kitchen.

it is all the same as well, just a little more crowded this time perhaps, but that doesn't stop him from backing you into a counter as you gawk at him wide-eyed.

he's not shy to deliver a kiss to your jawline, his hands finding way around your hips and resting on them with ease.

only until you whisper something does he pull away, watching how you move your eyes to the strangers also in the room, a rosy pink shade decorating your flustered cheeks.

"t-there's people here."

he has to giggle it off, your adorable nature truly the saving grace because if you already think a kiss is going to faze these people, he thinks you might go into cardiac arrest knowing the shit they actually do at events like this.

"they don't mind, trust me," he assures, his grip tightening around your hips before lounging forward for a deep kiss.

then every party after that is similar in that it starts all the same, with san eventually leading the way to the kitchen and if you guys are lucky and there's no one, he does more than just a kiss.

if not the kitchen, you guys will hang in the hallway or bathroom upstairs, make out and lose a sense of time, and maybe have sex the couple instances you guys were lucky to have found an empty bedroom.

chris is there every time, always in a corner or lurking somewhere in the background, sometimes even watching the door for you and san.

“that’s chris,” san starts again, your attention moving back to him.

“he’s studying abroad, but just thought i’d let you know of his existence because you’re going to see him quite a bit if you’re going to start attending more of these.”

you've come to develop some sort of attachment to chris at these parties, that if san was nowhere in sight, you would turn him--the only other person you knew.

and an almost perfect attendance one after another, you realize mingi just might be right.

“well, yes, but, there’s just some changes about you lately."

perhaps there is something different about you these days; the boy you've been hanging with opening your eyes to the fun you've been missing out on, and maybe you do want to come out of your shell a little bit.

but it doesn't hit you how much of these parties you've been attending until exam week creeps in and the only way to study for them is to go cold turkey for one, maybe even two weeks until you pass all of them.

what really sets reality for you though, is when yuna throws a passing comment about how much later you've been coming home. how she even sometimes make it back before you. that's when you start to think it might be just a bit bad, needing to tone it down before your friends catches on.

still, the most impressive fact is that you haven't run into wooyoung at his own parties, yet. not that you want to test your luck.

"i won't be able to make it," you tell san on the phone, a low wail that leaves him shortly.

"aww, why not?"

"exams are coming up and i uh... i want to stay inside and study."

the stark contrast of your words even amuses you. that no matter what fun and entertainment you've been exposed to, you will always crawl back into the girl that priotizes getting good grades and is rather nerdy, even if you despise the workload with such strong hatred.

"oh, alright." he giggles quietly. "you're still coming to the school carnival, though, right?"

"yes. i'll be there."

"okay. i'll see you then, and have fun studying."

"pfft. have fun at the party, and tell chris i said hi."

the carnival is a fundraising campaign so nothing fancy or anything like that, obviously. it's a much watered down event, but you figure since your friends won't be available due to their jobs, it doesn't hurt to go with san.

it takes place in the quad of your university, string lightings everywhere; on the trees, around the booths and food stalls, and smaller ones on the cement walkway.

the smells of cotton candy, popcorns, and corndogs greet you upon arrival, turning to san for him to suggest the first thing to do.

his voice is quiet under the loud music and laughters of those around, you have to lean in just to hear him.

"want to play a game?"

"sure." you nod.

a balloon dart game in the back intrigues him--three dollars per person, the sign says. the student running the booth motioning with enthusiam as you two inch closer.

san drops the payment for both you and him into the fundraising box, handing you a set of darts consisting of three.

"you go first or i go?" he quirks an eyebrow in amusement.

"you go."

you stand by the side, watching with the utmost alerted eyes when he misses the first throw, grunting out only shortly and containing it for the next missed one, then also the final where he scores absolutely nothing.

"christ," he curses with a whisper, switching with you who can only chuckle in response.

you also miss the first one, then the second, but surprisingly managing to hit one close to the center for the last turn as it pops; the student ringing a bell and telling you to choose from the prizes.

"you know," san brings up on the walk to the lemonade stand after agreeing on it. "you're pretty good."

you smile a little at the compliment from him.

"yeah? mingi and yunho would always say my aim isn't too bad."

"i can see that."

you both come to a stop at the stand, san rummaging his pocket and speaking at once, "two lemonades, please."

you dig through yours at the same time, pulling out the changes just in time.

"let me pay this time."

san shakes his head.

"what kind of gentleman would i be if i let the lady pay on a date?"

you scoff at that.

"and what kind of lady would i be if i let you pay every single time?"

"the perfect one," he says, putting on that handsome smile that's enough to distract you momentarily while he hands over the payment.

"your drink, my lady." he offers with the same smile that you just can't resist.

you huff and puff, pouting as he lets out a giggle and put back your changes.

"let's go find somewhere to sit."

"what kind of gentleman would i be if i let the lady pay on a date?"

the word replays in your head. date. is this a date? it could be you're thinking too much into it, but you suppose you've never been on a proper date with san.

it is certainly very different; from the activities to the setting, to even the interactions. everything is much more mellow; soft. and you think you prefer it this way. so maybe it is a date. yeah.

even if it's not, it does make you feel so happy your heart could almost jump out of your chest just because san said it is.

"cute." the voice rings in your ear, knocking all the creative thoughts out of your head.

"huh?"

"the plushie. it's cute."

"oh... yeah." you almost stutter, swallowing the knot in your throat and attempting to straighten your posture just to make it clear you definitely weren't thinking of anything else.

he laughs, able to spot the light pink slowly making its appearance again.

"it kind of looks like you."

you retract at the sudden comparison and have to hold the plushie up just to get another good glance at it.

"i absolutely do not look like a white bunny with big flappy ears."

he laughs again at the denial.

"well, you are cute like one."

you only clear your throat and try to fight off a smile that threatens to blossom at the remark that makes something inside your stomach flutter with butterflies.

"do you want to keep it?" you finally derive the subject after enough blushing.

"oh, i couldn't do that. you earned it yourself."

you curl your lips together for a moment of silence before speaking again in such a hushed volume, the commotion could've drowned it out if san wasn't sitting just a bit too close.

"well... your birthday was a while ago, right?"

the question catches him in a daze, more taken aback than anything that you would even remember it.

"yeah."

"i'm sorry i didn't get you anything or even wished you a happy birthday, i was just..." conflicted; thinking too much if it would be appropriate. you have thought of it; remembered it, of course you did.

"--no, you're fine. it's really not a big deal," he brushes it off along with a short laughter but it just sounds indifferent.

"did you celebrate it?"

he shakes his head slowly. was he supposed to? birthdays are just... birthdays. the day has passed so long ago that you came into the world, he will never understand the excitement and joy people have for the day they grow closer to death each year.

"not really? just kind of stayed home and watched a movie. i did get a text from wooyoung at least."

"oh..."

“just something my family never did much, i guess,” you simplify, and jongho nods along with an understanding hum.

“they’re really not all that,” san chips in, both yours and jongho’s heads snapping his direction. “waste of money and time.”

"then, consider it my gift to you." you strech an arm out, hanging the plushie in the air. "it's not anything... extravagant, but it's from the heart."

you break out into a tight-lipped smile because you're aware it's a bit silly, but when he accepts it with open hands, returning a genuine one of his own, you think it might not be.

"i'll take it."

an hour flying by, small talks after another and walks around the area to check out everything, san wants to play one last game before closing off the night.

a ring toss. you don't know how good you're going to be at this one, but either way, san offers to play for you. unsure of what he means by that, you stay back and watch, not really bothered that you're not playing since san is a sight two times more enjoyable.

before he finally manages to land on a bottle, he must've went through at least twenty rings. but he's so proud when he did, fist in the air and all, it's contagious enough for you to clap.

given the game is much harder than the last one you guys played, the prizes are much bulky; in size and value.

"for you," he says, all of a sudden shoving the giant teddy bear in your face, whose head is probably bigger than yours.

"me?" you repeat.

"yes. i said i'll play for you didn't i?"

he's quick to snatch the bunny that you were holding for him, practically rubbing the nose of the bear into your cheek, you have no other choice but to hug the stuffed animal like a baby.

"san, when you give someone something for their birthday, you don't get something back."

he chuckles.

"i know, but i want to. a gift from the heart."

and despite rolling your eyes at the mimicked phrase, sighing under your breath and bringing up again and again that he can keep the bear, you go to bed so happy.

laying on it awake, the event that took place earlier today playing repeatedly in your head and it makes you feel like a giddy schoolgirl all over again.

thinking about the words he used, the display of affections; all the parties he invited you to, and just how often he's been reaching out.

you know that you shouldn't. shouldn't fill your fragile heart up with hope and get optimistic about a boy who ignored you a month ago, but you can't help it.

can't help but fall for the bare minimums on a handsome smile and coy look; the sudden act of kindness that convinces you maybe love isn't dead, yet.

that something has changed in san and something has changed between you and him.

"will you be able to make it?"

every time your phone rings, your stomach sinks itself in, sometimes lounging across the room or tripping yourself on the way just to pick up his call and tell him yes, you can see him tonight.

sadly, just not this night.

neglecting school works has really caught up and now you're left with a stack of assignments that's due tomorrow or the day after that. it doesn't get any better that your writing class has now really transitioned into the 'creative' aspect and you're to come up with a draft of your own work before the end of the week.

"can't. i have too many assignments, sorry."

"ah... okay."

"but uhm, if i finish early i'll let you know?"

"yeah, sure. text me or something. good luck!"

it's still hard to shake off the disappointment, almost like a fear of missing out since you've went to so many of them, you know you could be enjoying yourself with a pretty boy instead of wallowing in misery.

but one, two, probably close to three hours goes by and you've somehow managed to tackle most of them. the ones due tomorrow at least.

you realize you're most likely not dumb, just lazy. and lazy you are, mind jumping straight into already rewarding yourself, what better way than to go to a party and let loose? you'll worry about your next set of assignments tomorrrow.

you text san like you said you would, waiting five minutes, then ten, then fifteen and there's still no reply.

maybe the music's too loud, maybe he ran into a drunk as hell wooyoung and is helping him, or maybe he's busy chatting with chris or whatever other ten plus people he knows there.

you figure you'll just show up. that's not too desperate, right? he's the one who's been inviting you after all, so why would he not want you there?

you make your way through the crowd willingly, this time with no one to guide you. all alone and pushing past the sweats and awful smell because he might be in the kitchen. he has to be.

maneuvering until you arrive at the entrance of the kitchen, always having been the brightest flame in the room, he's hard to miss because your eyes are drawn to him immediately.

as soon as you recognize that familiar head of black hair, time must've stopped and it must've taken your breath with it.

you've experienced a lot of pain in your life if that isn't evident by now. from your parents abandoning you to your mom telling you straight in the face that she never wanted you. then your aunt and uncle who isn't of much difference, to your first boyfriend who cheated.

your life is a mess.

and you understand in actuality, some of it could be considered much worse, but right now--in this moment, it feels like the pain in front of you is the worst one ever, it dulls everything else in comparison.

this pain knocks your breath away and you could almost faint from how sharp the hit is to your fragile heart.

to see san's hands resting on hips that isn't yours, face snuggled and flushed against another skin the same he would do to you. and if you think it can't get any worse, the short couple of seconds that you actually look away, you catch chris in that same old corner with a drink in his hand.

you briefly lock eye contact with him and he could only pretend to sip his cup while looking away to join the other boys again in a conversation.

that's when you realize; when it all sinks on you, that chris isn't a friend. he's the guy that sticks by san's side when he pulls shit like this, making sure no one walks into the room he's fucking a girl in, and informs him of any relevant information because why would you ever think choi san could have a change of heart just because he spewed a few sweet words and made you feel like the most special girl for two hours.

“this is y/n.” san’s voice snaps you out, blinking your lashes to a boy whose hair is bleached in blonde and staring at you with equally amusing eyes, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

“she’s cute,” he comments courtly, parting with a smile and going off to join the two from before at the corner, their introductions audibly out of your range.

to have thought it was a genuine compliment when he probably only looked at you as one of them. and thinking of all the times you couldn't make it and all the parties san attended without you.

the more you connect the dots, the more depressing it gets, and wow... stupid, you are so fucking stupid.

you knew, of course you did; had a feeling and all, not completely oblivious that you weren't the only one. you just didn't think it would hurt so much to actually see it for yourself; really see how easily replaceable you are.

still, you can't stop staring, and you must've stared for too long because she finally notices, eyes fleeting to you and pushing san off slightly before tilting her head and looking at you like she's bored.

as if waiting for you to find something else to entertain yourself with, because who the fuck are you to be an audience to her and the boy before her.

and san must've noticed; confused about the lack of body response and where her gaze is, that he turns his head back to see for himself. but you can't even properly digest the horror in his facial, the only thing you see is that deep, dark, and ugly mark on his neck along with a few lipstick stains in the shade of red close to his jawline and to his lips.

you can't stay here any longer and embarrass yourself like this, feeling a lone tear well at one of your eyes before moving back to the crowd.

"excuse me," you mutter, trying to push your way out of there, the last thing you hear from the kitchen is the marching of heavy footsteps and san's voice as he tries to catch up.

"wait, y/n!"

next // series m.list

taglist: @sorryimananti-romantic @revehosh @cookiechristie @avantalem @atiny68 @sannwa @shibera @mochibabycakes @justineasian @eastleighsblog @baguette-atiny @crimson-mia @yeosxxx @sleepychimm @atz-diary @diorwoo @naiify @becauseiloveyunho @damagelove @softie00 @s-nsanshine @atinytinaa @moonseonghwa @lemontreefantasy @wooyoung4eva @yeosangsbiceps @likexaxdaydream @knucklesdeepmingi @barbielibra @tmtxtf @brown88 @harusoraa @frankenstein852 @yujispinkhair @mermaid17venus @nolxverlikeme @writersun @kkayfan @wooyoungjpg @galaxypox @byunniebaekhyunnie

#i did it somehow #now off to cry bc of finals #ateez angst #ateez x reader #san x reader #choi san x reader #san angst #ateez series #fic: broken

171 notes · View notes