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charmandabear · 3 days

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11. Astarion x Reader 👀

We're not going to worry about how long it'll take me to answer these. We're not going to talk about it. Listen, I'm trying so hard to not make these into whole things, I just want to treat them like writing exercises, but I physically can't not finish smut once it's started.

From @astarionfreak's smut ask game ~ other entries

11. "I touched myself last night thinking about you." "I know."

Tags/Warnings: reader isn't gendered but has a vulva, blood/blood drinking, p in v sex, somewhat rough sex (reader gets a little feral in this one)

You're not subtle about it at all.

Every time he catches you staring, you quickly turn your head. At one point you even just shift your eyes, trying to pretend you're looking at something behind him. But there's no way he isn't at least a little suspicious.

Since the night you let Astarion bite you, the tension between the two of you has been palpable. Something about having him pressed down on top of you, his lips on your neck and his hand cradling your neck in a way that was disproportionately gentle set something on fire inside you. You really thought that you could just get over your little crush if you got it out of your system. Sate the need and you could go back to just being friends... Or whatever you are with him.

But it had the opposite effect. Now, his very presence turns you on. The wind catches his scent and you instinctively press your thighs together. He grins after making some sassy remark to Gale, and the glint of his fangs in the light makes your mouth go dry. You even need to suppress a moan when he gets a particularly impressive kill. You really hope no one heard that one.

So now, sitting around the campfire with the rest of your companions, you're just trying desperately to appear normal. You laugh absentmindedly at whatever joke Karlach just made while in your mind, Astarion's railing you up against a tree. It's only when you realize that Wyll has been trying to ask you a question for the past 90 seconds that you know you're too far gone to be in polite company.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it, long day," you make the excuse lamely. "I'm going to turn in a little early, I've got a bit of a headache."

"Do you want something for it?" Shadowheart asks with a frown. "I've got some herbal remedies that might help."

"I'm fine, I think I just need some rest." You force a smile onto your face. "'Night, all." You walk back to your tent stiffly, speeding up to cover the last few meters quickly. Your breath wracks through your body and your blood pounds in your ears. You've never - never - gotten this worked up over another person, never mind a man. Honestly, he's not even really your usual type, you'd normally be much more likely to pursue someone like Shadowheart. But she so clearly has a thing for Karlach, and that's not something you'd want to get in the way of.

But this pale, devastatingly handsome vampire elf has your desire in a chokehold.

You light a lantern inside your tent and take out your journal to sketch. You try to conjure some of the imagery you saw today to keep your brain off Astarion. Scratch and the owlbear cub playing. The terrifying harpies that almost lured one of the tiefling children. Astarion's blade dripping with harpy blood while his bright red eyes sparkle with mischief and the thrill of he kill.

Fucking hells.

You eventually put your journal away and lay down on your bedroll, staring at the ceiling of your tent while the others continue to chat and laugh outside. You listen to their conversation die down, their goodnights, and finally the distant sound of crickets and other nighttime fauna. Your eyes start to grow heavy, or at the very least bored of looking at the support rods in your tent.

You only realize that you've drifted to sleep when you're startled awake by a soft tapping on the canvas flap that separates you from the rest of camp.

"Y-yes?" Your voice is shakier than you'd like, although it's not like a vicious creature would politely knock on your makeshift door. The flap lifts up to reveal the literal last person you'd like to see right now.

"Hello, darling," Astarion grins in that irresistible way that he does. "I wanted to check in on our fearless leader. You've seemed dreadfully jumpy all day."

"Oh! Um." You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. "I'm.. fine. Thank you, Astarion." You nod your head in a gesture of dismissal, but he doesn't move.

"Are you sure? You're positively flushed." His smile suggests he knows more than he's letting on. You chew on your lower lip to distract you from the growing ache between your legs.

"I'm perfectly fine, Astarion, thank you. Good night." You reach to close the tent flap but he holds onto it. Your fingers brush against his and it's like a jolt of lightning passes between your hands.

"I'm not buying it," he hums, dropping his voice. He pushes his way into your tent and you scramble backwards. The last thing you need is for him to touch you - you might not be able to control yourself if he does. "Now tell me, what's had you so hot and bothered all day?"

"N-nothing," you stammer, wishing you could just disappear on the spot. He raises an eyebrow and you backpedal. "Well, fine, I think something Gale cooked isn't sitting quite right with me. I was... embarrassed." The lie rings hollow even to you.

"Come now, love, we both know you're a terrible liar." He crawls towards you on his knees, a predator stalking his prey. Your breath catches in your throat. "Do you have something you need to confess?"

You're trapped. You've run out of room in the tent to back away, and Astarion has all but crawled on top of you. His scent is intoxicating and his eyes gleam in the low light. The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"I touched myself last night thinking about you."

"I know." The grin that curls across his face is fiendish. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

"You know?" Then you gasp suddenly. "The tadpole..."

Astarion lets out a bark of a laugh, loud enough that you're worried it might wake your other companions. "Darling, I didn't need a tadpole to figure that one out. Like I said, you're a terrible liar." He nudges his knee closer to the apex of your legs and you can feel your arousal making your underclothes wet. "What I want to know is, how did you picture me? My head between your legs? Did I have you on all fours in the forest? Or..." His lips ghost against yours now and your head feels dizzy with lust. "Or perhaps I had you pinned down in this very tent, taking my time as I had my way with you?"

Your instincts take over and you close the minimal distance between you, pulling him down on top of you as you ravage his lips. You claw at his clothing, no longer interested in maintaining decorum. He tears at the laces of your breeches, pulling them down below your hips and exposing your dripping cunt to the open air. A cry rips through your throat as he licks a thick stripe up your slit, and his chuckle rumbles deep in his chest. He pulls up on his knees and grins down at you, open and wanton, as he slips out of his pants.

"So very eager," he hums as he frees his cock, engorged and already dripping. A shudder runs through you as you see it, and you yank on his shirt and pull him down to meet you. You kiss him roughly, catching his lower lip in your teeth as you hook your leg around his waist.

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Astarion," you hiss through gritted teeth, and you groan loudly when he easily sinks in up to his base.

"Someone wants the whole of camp to hear," he growls in your ear as he begins to slowly thrust into you.

"Then you better make it quick so we don't wake them," you snarl in response, all pretenses having vanished. You tangle your fingers into his hair and press his face to your neck. You feel his lips stretch into a smile just before he sinks his fangs into you, the icy shard of pain melting into the heat of his mouth warming with your blood.

You jut your hips up into him, desperately chasing your release as he drinks his fill. He fucks into you, hard and messy, and before long you're feeling the pressure building in your core.

"Gods, Astarion, don't stop," you gasp hungrily in his ear, and he increases his pace to a punishing rhythm. You're starting to grow faint from blood loss just as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Your walls clench and shudder around his length and he tears his mouth away from your neck, his expression wild and bloody. A few more broken ruts and you can feel him spilling inside you, the feeling his pulsing cock prolonging your own climax.

The two of you eventually still, covered in a sheen of sweat and panting heavily. Your ears strain to hear if there has been any disturbance in camp to indicate that your other companions heard anything. Outside your tent remains, thankfully, silent.

"Well then," Astarion exhales quickly as he slides out of you. "Darling, if it's going to be like that, then you just need to invite me next time."

#smut ask game #astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 smut #smutty fanfiction #smutty one shot #bg3 astarion x reader #bg3 astarion fanfic

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 17 hours

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6: A FINE LINE

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

You and Bucky deal with the fallout of the undercover mission.

Word count 2.7k

Warnings: Nightmares, angry girlfriends, Steve and Nat being besties to idiots

You were blissfully oblivious to the world while you slept for the whole quinjet flight, waking only as the small plane touched down the runway outside the compound.

"Sorry," Bucky grimaced as you woke with a gasp.

"Are we home?"

You turned to look at him. As he nodded, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by the lines of worry across his forehead. He was looking at you with so much apprehension, that you almost reached out to comfort him. Almost. The memories of the previous night came flooding back and sadness filled your heart again.

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

You ignored his question in favor of your own. "Did you fly all the way back without stopping?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his chest swelled with pride that you had noticed what he had done for you.

"That was a dangerous thing to do. You're exhausted." Bucky's face fell but you continued to chastise him anyway. "What if something happened? Are you trying to get us both killed?"

The long sleep had done nothing to improve your mood, you felt sluggish and now you were hungry to boot.

Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, before the word ‘sorry' came out in a whisper. "I don't want to hurt you."

"But you did."

The uncomfortable silence between you was broken by a crackle on the radio. "Everything okay in there?" Steve's voice sounded over the radio.

"Yes!" you answered, hitting the button to open the aft exit hatch.

You stood up, the blanket fell off your shoulders and sent a shiver down your spine. You were still only wearing a bikini. Bending down, you picked up the blanket, covering yourself and stalking out of the plane. Bucky followed a few steps behind you.

Steve took one look at you and knew that things weren't right but he was saved the hassle of finding a polite way of letting you know how rough you looked.

"You two look like shit!" Nat appeared from behind Steve. "Why did Tony say everything was fine?"

"We got everything we needed but… the getaway was a little bumpy and my stomach didn't do so well," you pouted.

Natasha put her arm around your waist. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," she said, leading you away.

Once you were out of earshot of the boys, she rounded on you. "What happened out there?"

"What?" You are taken aback by the tone of her question.

"Come on, don't give me the innocent act. Something happened between you and Barnes."

You sighed deeply. Bucky's words played in your mind on a loop. You felt deflated. "Do you think I'm a bad friend?"

"Oh sweetie, no one would ever suggest anything of the sort."

"I said something, I knew he wouldn't like it. And he got really mad and said some really awful things."

"What did he say?"

You couldn't bring yourself to repeat his words, even though they were burned into your brain. For some reason, you still felt the urge to protect Bucky. Logically, you knew he didn't deserve it, but your heart, the stupid organ that loved him unconditionally, had more sway over you in that moment. "It doesn't matter."

You were saved from further interrogation as your stomach rumbled loudly.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and fed. You can rest after that."

"Nat, did the intel pan out?"

"Yeah," your friend grinned at you. "You did good."

You felt a smile tug at your lips, at least you had been able to achieve something of use. Even if you had tanked your friendship in the process.

Meanwhile, back in the hangar bay, Steve was having a similar conversation with Bucky.

"Well I’m assuming from the way you’re both acting, something happened between you two."

"You’re a punk, you know that." Bucky huffed.

"And you’re a jerk." Steve quipped fondly.

"I was a jerk. I think I’ve ruined everything."

"What happened?"

Bucky was too ashamed of the words he had used. His soul burned with shame at the spite he had felt. He had never understood why people used the phrase ‘a fine line between love and hate’, until now. Because in that moment, for the briefest of milliseconds, Bucky had hated you; for what you’d said to him, but mostly because you didn’t love him back. He wanted to give you the world, and you wouldn’t take it. His heart was broken and you had offered to mend it, only to break it again. He would do anything to quash that feeling, shove it back inside a bottle, put a cork in it and throw it out into the deepest of oceans.

Hatred was the feeling that surrounded him as the Winter Soldier. He was hated by his keepers and hated by the world around him. Now it had crept into his soul and stained his thoughts of you. Worst of all, he hated himself for the things he had said to you.

"I think I’m going to lose her."

"Bucky, just tell her how you feel about her."

"I can’t. Not anymore, not after this."

"Bucky-"

"Would you just drop it, Steve? Why’re you so keen on this? Are you trying to get me to destroy everything so you can have her all to yourself?" Bucky rounded on Steve, unleashing his anger on the only other person who had stuck by him unyieldingly.

Steve just looked back at him, pity filling his eyes. He knew how badly Bucky was hurting. Meeting the person who you love more than anything else in life and not being able to be with them, he had suffered the same pain when he had woken from the ice, knowing that he would never get to dance with Peggy in his lifetime.

Bucky’s anger had flared suddenly and was equally as quick to dissipate, his shoulders sagging from sheer exhaustion. He had been up for almost thirty turbulence filled hours. He needed rest. Steve put a hand on his shoulder, waving away Bucky’s attempts to apologize. He guided him back to his room, requesting that FRIDAY have someone send food to his room. Steve sat on his bed, waiting while Bucky showered. Despite the powerful shower sounds coming from the bathroom, Steve could hear you and Nat talking. He couldn’t make out your words, but he heard the gravity of your tone.

"Oh Buck," he sighed quietly.

Nat left you just before Bucky came out of the shower. Bucky looked surprised that Steve was still here.

"You need to eat." Steve pointed at the meal that someone had delivered. He started unpacking it for Bucky.

"I’m tired. I should sleep," he said pointedly, indicating that he wanted Steve to leave.

Steve picked up the sandwich and handed it to Bucky. "Eat this and I’ll leave you alone."

Bucky complied. He was good at that. He finished the grilled cheese sandwich without any enjoyment, the bread tasting like sandpaper in his dry mouth. "Happy?" he asked, gruffly.

Steve didn’t answer, leaving Bucky to the solace he sought. Not that Steve’s departure did anything to assuage the guilt that had seeped deep into Bucky’s bones. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from his bed, glancing at the door, almost as though Steve would sneak back in. When no one appeared, he spread the blanket on the floor and lay down on it, closing his eyes on the world that was filled with pain.

Unfortunately for Bucky, his subconscious offered him no relief. His mind was tired, his emotions ruled the roost and left him susceptible for the nightmares to invade. They seeped in with stealth and gripped him like a vice.

It was midnight when a noise woke you. You startled, breathing heavily as your eyes darted around in the darkness, body immediately on high alert. It always took a few days to let the safety of your environment lull your body into a sense of security. You listened carefully for signs of disruption, but for several moments there was only silence. Just as your heart rate settled, you heard it again, much clearer this time and you knew exactly what it was and where it was coming from.

Without thinking, you shot out of bed and rapped your knuckles against Bucky's bedroom door. He didn't answer, he never did when he was like this. Fortunately, you were an old hat to this routine. You crouched on the floor, calling his name gently until his eyes opened. The moonlight flooded through his uncovered window and you moved to an angle where he could see you. Only when his eyes focused on you, did you touch him, lay a comforting hand on his arm.

Bucky sat up slowly, eyes filled with unshed tears as he gazed at you sorrowfully. The anguish in his face was unbearable and you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. His arms wormed their way around your waist holding you in a tight embrace, one you never wanted to leave. His warmth, his sturdiness was your strength, your pillar. You needed him just as he needed you.

You didn't have any plans on moving and Bucky made no move to let you go, but eventually your body protested. You were sitting on your lower legs and the pressure on them reduced the blood flow leading to a painful tingling which started in your toes and was spreading upwards. Maybe a little wiggle would help restore your feeling.

Your movement didn't go unnoticed by Bucky. "Are you okay?" he asked, taking his nose out of your neck.

"My legs fell asleep," you groaned.

He chuckled in response. "Need to get up?"

You nodded, wobbling to your feet like a baby deer standing for the first time. Once you had recovered your balance and the tingling had ceased to be painful, you jumped up and down a few times for good measure. "Human body wasn't made for this. Come?" You held out your hand for him.

He took it without hesitation. "Where’re we going?"

"Not far." You led him to the bed. "I thought we'd put a stop to this." You pointed at the floor.

"Sorry," he whispered.

You sighed, jerking your head towards the bed indicating that he should get in. Dubiously he followed your instruction, relieved that you chose to get in beside him rather than running away. He pulled the duvet up to cover your legs and you sank into the pillows beside him. It was so much easier to be close to him physically than emotionally these days.

Bucky was looking at you, you could feel his gaze but you didn't return it, not knowing what to say. He solved your problem by initiating the conversation.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. But maybe we can discuss your driving skills some time. They need some work."

"I'm sorry for…" he sighed. "For everything."

"Do you really think I'm a slut?"

"No!" His answer came back so fast, there was really no room for doubt. The way his eyes stared into yours, you could feel his regret.

After a few moments of contemplative silence you asked him another question. "Since when do you watch porn, Bucky? I mean, we used to spend all our time together. And it’s not with Steve, I know that much."

"Well sometimes, when Sam, Clint and Tony-"

"Say no more."

"I didn’t think they were realistic, but on the mission, when you started talking like that… it made me wonder if it’s real, and if I’m not doing things right. I mean, what if I’m not good enough, you know? And I was angry. I mean I know it was wrong, I knew it would hurt you. But… you hurt me and … I wanted to hurt you back." Bucky hung his head with the admission.

"I’m sorry about that… I just - it’s just, she makes me feel like I’m not your favorite person anymore and I hate that."

"You’re jealous?"

You shrug. What could you say, of course you were jealous, your insides were withering and dying from the envy that consumed you.

"But you’re never jealous of anything, or anyone!" Bucky carried on, not being able to read your expression in the darkness.

"You have to care enough to be envious of somebody."

"You care about me?" he smiled.

"If you didn’t already know that, you’re dumber than I thought."

Bucky chuckled, but it turned into a sigh. "I’m sorry for calling you a slut."

"I’m sorry for mocking your girlfriend. Just so you know, Priya seems like the kind of person who will let you know if she isn't pleased. Can't imagine she would just lie there and take it."

"Yeah she probably would. I guess you don’t get to her position without being able to speak up for yourself."

"Her position?"

"She just got promoted to head of pediatric surgery. That’s a big deal, right?"

The little green monster inside you growled angrily, amplifying your feelings of inadequacy. "Yeah, that’s pretty impressive," you answered softly. "Congratulations to her."

Bucky curled up beside you, burying his head against your shoulder. "Thanks, Cricket," he muttered, drowsily.

His voice was low and tired and a wave of guilt washed over you. He was trying. You could see how hard he was trying to be a good boyfriend and a good friend. "Go to sleep, Bucky."

"Night." It was surprising how quickly he fell asleep. Even super soldiers needed time to recover.

Once his breathing was shallow and even, you whispered back to him. "Goodnight, Bucky. I love you." You closed your eyes and joined him in slumberland.

"Jamie?"

Priya’s voice floated into your ear, waking you.

"Jamie!"

The bed shook as Bucky shot up from his position beside you and you opened your eyes to see a very pissed off looking girlfriend standing at the end of Bucky’s bed.

"Priya!" Bucky exclaimed.

"What’s happening here?" Her voice was quiet, forceful, dripping with anger.

"Look, it’s not what this looks like," Bucky protested.

Priya rounded on you. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"No, Priya. I’m not sleeping- we didn’t have sex," you said emphatically. "We just fell asleep, we were talking and it was two in the morning and..."

Priya’s eyes narrowed and she looked between you and Bucky. "Talking? At two in the morning? Steve said you got home yesterday afternoon."

Bucky jumped in, trying to diffuse the tension. “It’s not like that, Priya. Cricket was just… I had a nightmare and… well,” he shrugged. “We fell asleep. I haven’t had one in a long time. I know you haven’t seen what it’s like, and I’m grateful for that.”

Priya crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. "And you couldn’t go back to your own room after you woke him up from the bad dream?"

You could see the hurt in Priya’s eyes, and you felt guilty for being the cause of it. She had never been outright unkind to you, in fact she had tried being friendly, tried getting to know you. You were the one who had shut her out.

"For what it’s worth, Bucky is the most trustworthy person I know. He would never do something like that to you. I promise that nothing physical has ever happened between us. I’m not a slut. But, I’m going to go,” you said quietly, “let you guys talk."

Bucky hesitated, looking from you to Priya. His heart sank as he processed the words you had spoken, he knew he had hurt you deeply with his words and his heart ached with regret.

She sighed, her anger softening slightly. "Fine, explain."

Bucky took a deep breath, his eyes pleading with Priya. "I know this looks bad, but Cricket is just a friend, I swear. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Priya looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding. "Okay, I believe you. But don’t let it happen again, Bucky."

Bucky nodded, relief flooding his face. "I won’t, I promise."

You stood up, feeling like an intruder in their moment. "I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sorry for causing any trouble."

Priya gave you a small smile. "It’s okay, Cricket. Thank you for being honest."

As you walked out of the room, you could help but feel another pang of jealousy. Since Priya had come into your life, you were on the outside, always looking in. Would you ever be more than you'd always been?

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Tag list: @samodivaa @scoonsalicious @noonespecial90 @browneyedgrli @vicmc624 @cjand10 @capswife @julvrs @ordelixx @sashaisready @sebastians-love @belleofthebooks @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @love-isnt-greed @hhiggs @winters1917 @blackhawkfanatic @calwitch @learisa @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lillianacristina @mostlymarvelgirl @wintercrows @buckitostan

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

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reii-naa · 2 days

Text

HEHE HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME AND TO AVENTURINE

fluff , gn ! reader , teeny tiny angst , aven's real name is used , 2nd pov , established relationship (late bday special)

waking up, you checked your phone for the time, then noticed a notification. your eyes scan the reminder, and your sleepiness was gone in an instant as your eyes was left wide.

"it's may six.. it's may six!" you rejoiced, looking at aventurine who's still sleeping. quickly covering your mouth, you head to the kitchen and prepared all of the things you needed to do, and make all of the food.

the moment aventurine wakes up, he was instantly greeted by the sweet smell of sweets from the kitchen. "oh my, such a nice smell." he chuckled, hugging you from behind as he opens his sleepy eyes.

there, aventurine noticed the delivered cake on the table, an icing pipe on your hands, and other foods such as ice cream and pizza. his eyes trail to the cake, reading: "happy birthday!"

"oh, whos birthday is it?" aventurine raises a brow. you let out a giggle.

"ours, duh!"

the blonde raises his brow is confusion. "ours?" he couldn't help but ask. "hehe, it's our birthday. today is may six!" you exclaim with a smile, kissing his cheek and cleaning your mess.

his eyes widened. "i wanted to celebrate your birthday yesterday, but i decided to celebrate it today with me." wiping the remaining stains off your hands, you look at him. you were surprised with the tears on his eyes.

"kakavasha, dear?" you ask in concern. today was supposed to be a special day, so seeing him emotional was concerning. "i- i'm sorry, was the food not to your liking? is the cake not your favorite flavor?" you quickly ask.

"no.." he replied with a slightly shaky voice. "i'm just happy you remembered." he smiled at you, tears streaming down his face. "i- i'm thankful you prepared."

your worries were gone as you gave your lover a warm smile. "of course, why would i forget?" you ask, kissing his tears away. "love, don't cry. today's a special day for both of us. come on, let's enjoy."

aventurine looks back at the table filled with all the food you made for the two of you. he remembered the days when he was but a child, living with his sister. the time where he had to survive and barely ate nothing. and during his birthdays, he only ate at least one whole loaf and nothing else.

but now, here he is. you by his side, table filled with various foods he had wanted to try when he was a little kid.

he kisses your lips with a hum. "i'm really one lucky man to have you." he chuckled, causing you to giggle and kiss him back. "i too am lucky to have you, kakavasha." you smile.

"so, you wanna invite topaz and ratio over?" you ask, looking at the table of food. "because i think we can't eat this all." aventurine thinks about it, before humming, embracing you from behind and burying his nose on your neck.

"sure, the more the merrier." the blonde replied. he raises a brow when you show him a small box. "my gift to you, dear." you show it to him. without breaking the embrace, he takes it and opens it, and his eyes widened in amaze at the content inside it. it was a golden necklace with thr first letter of your name.

he chuckles, showing another small box to you and opening it. it was the first letter of his actual name. "i guess we both have the same idea."

"happy birthday kakavasha."

"happy birthday [name]."

i know people celebrated his birthday earlier, but i want to make it a bit special for me by celebrating it the same time as mine

happy birthday to our favorite gambler

#hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #star rail fluff #hsr x reader #hsr x reader fluff #aventurine fluff #aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader fluff

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zchnlswrld · 21 hours

Text

LOVING YOU

MASTERLIST | WC: 8.1K (EXACTLY) | RELEASE DATE: 7TH MAY 2024

NON-IDOL!WOOYOUNG X FEM!READER (X NON-IDOL!SAN)

Synopsis: Loving Jung Wooyoung wasn’t worth it. Loving him wasn’t worth a god damn bone in your body. Yet here you are. Loving Jung Wooyoung made you hurt. It was a pain you were willing to endure for so long.

Warning/s: Angst. Hurt to comfort. Some fluff. Mentions of food and alcohol.

Rina’s notes: This is probably my favourite thing I’ve written kind of gagged! For texts white is someone else and blue is you! Sumin and Ningning what are you doing here?? There may be some spelling and grammar mistakes, I just haven’t had time to clean it up! Not too proud of the ending as I don’t really know how to end stuff sorry!!!!!

Tags: @newworldnet

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like watching your heart getting ripped out and doing nothing to stop it. It’ll happen again so why bother. Your heart aches as he smiles as Sumin knowing full well she’d never love him as much as you do. But what you do know is that she makes him happy and that’s all you can ask for at this point.

The sounds in the cafe had gradually faded out as you watched the pair lovingly gaze into each other’s eyes. They were both so content with being in each other’s presence you’re sure they’d forgotten you were even there with them. Neither of them had spoke to you nor looked in your direction for a while, leaving you to trace your finger in the grooves of your mug.

Your eyes drifted from the couple to the chalkboard above the counter, after reading it you look around the room. You do everything but look at the couple.

“So what about you?” Sumin smiles at you, breaking you out of your daze.

You return the smile, slightly lost, and reply. “What about me?”

“What’s your favourite thing to do? It’d be nice to know you more, seeing as you’re his best friend and all.” It’s always that last line that gets you but she says it so politely you aren’t sure if it was supposed to come off as condescending.

“Oh.” You think for a moment. “I don’t do much. I stay inside.” You give her an awkward smile, looking over at Wooyoung to say something.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and nods. “That’s something though, kiddo.”

Before you can get another word in he lets go of you and continues talking to Sumin about whatever they were before. Slowly you reach into the bag on your lap and pull out your phone. You see San’s name on the screen along with a text message and open it discreetly.

Is everything going alright?

just call pls

i wanna go

Read 13:17

You make an effort to turn your phone off of silent and after a few moments it rings loudly, cutting off the conversation happening next to you. “It’s San.” You place the phone on ear closest to Wooyoung and San says something about needing your help but you don’t really register it. You simply pick up your bag, pull out your wallet, place some money next to your cold drink, wave to the pair and leave. You can hear them both say goodbye but you shut the door just as quickly as you open it.

After leaving you turn the corner and see the pair through the window, they go back to talking as usual. Wooyoung laughing at something Sumin says and you can almost hear his hearty laugh as if you were still in there.

San hears your irregular breaths and his heart breaks for you. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

“He’s so happy.” You let out a shaky sigh.

“I’ll come and get you.” Keys jingle on the other end of the line and you can hear Byeol meow at San for leaving.

“They’re so happy, together.” You study the smile on Wooyoung’s face. He doesn’t cover his mouth with his hand and instead reaches for hers. His smile reaches his eyes, as does hers.

“Wait at Aurora, it’s Hongjoong’s shift.” You nod, although he can’t see it he knows.

Your phone slowly slips back into your bag, you’re not sure if you put the phone down or if San has but you register that it’s no longer in your hand. You finally tear your eyes away from the pair and drag your feet two blocks to Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s store.

It’s a silent walk.

There are no cars on the road. There are no people in the street. There are no birds chirping.

You’re left with your thoughts. Dangerous, really.

This is the first time he’s been so enthusiastic about having you meet someone, he pushed so hard for it and how could you say no to that face. The face you’ve loved so dearly since 8th grade.

She is the first girlfriend of his that had smiled at you and spoke to you and asked about you, something that gains Wooyoung’s stamp of approval. She offered to pay for your drink and even gave you a book you’d been meaning to read that she had on hand. She didn’t judge you for being a homebody nor did she pass comment on it.

Sumin was lovely. That’s what you hated more than anything.

Hongjoong had clearly been warned about your arrival because by the time you arrive there’s a hot chocolate on your usual booth and a small post it note next to it. Your heart clenches at Hongjoong’s gesture, not because it hurts you but because you’d missed being there.

The place was empty, his lunch rush had ended as all the sweet treats on display were gone and Yeosang was wiping tables.

You go straight to the booth quietly, getting a small smile from the man behind the counter as you walk past him. Placing your bag next to you, you pick up the note.

‘It’s on me.’

Simple and short but enough to remind you that’s exactly what Sumin said that made Wooyoung kiss her on the cheek while wrapping his arm around her while you were in line together. Of course Wooyoung was affectionate, he always has been but not like that in a long time. He’d hug and hold hands and give San or Yeosang the occasional kiss on the cheek but that’s where it ended.

You keep staring at the note before wordlessly folding it and putting it at the edge of the table.

“Do you think he doesn’t know?” You’re not sure who you’re speaking to, yourself, Hongjoong or Yeosang.

“Honestly?” Yeosang responds, his voice telling you he’s close. You nod and he sighs. “I don’t think he does.” Looking over at Yeosang he comes and sits opposite you. “I think he’s so wrapped up in his own world he’s not looking right in front of him.”

He watches as you take a sip of the warm drink. It provides no comfort to you as it usually would. You feel empty. Just as you place the drink down you hear San enter.

There’s nothing but pity in his eyes.

The cycle continues and he’s not sure how much longer he can let it go on.

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like being at the beach on a sunny day. It’s warm for a moment before it gets too hot and you get burnt. You’d endured it for so many visits so what’s one more, after all you’ll be out of it soon. It’s hot in the house, there are too many bodies and not one window open. Wooyoung had told you it was a nice gathering between friends and not a full blown party, hence the long sleeve shirt and jeans. He lied to you but at least the rest of the group is here.

“I was hoping to see you again! Our meeting was cut short last time!” Sumin rests her elbow on your shoulder and shouts over the music. She offers you some of her drink but you have your hand to decline it. “You don’t drink?” You shake your head, causing her to laugh. “That’s a shame! We could have been drunk buddies! Wooyoung said you were once!”

Ah. Those times. The reason you stopped drinking. “Not anymore! But thank you for the offer!” She smiles and leaves you alone, going somewhere to the sofa’s to mingle some more.

The music feels like it’s getting louder and you begin playing with your sleeves, scratching up your hand as you do. It begins to hurt but you ignore it the best you can and focus on finding someone you know. Your best bet is Seonghwa being in the kitchen, making sure people drink safely and responsibly so you go there.

It takes some pushing and small excuse me’s that go ignored to get there but in the end you do. He’s keeping it as clean as he can while staying out of everyone’s way, it’s in his nature after all. He silently gives you a comforting smile as you walk his way.

“I didn’t think you come.” He speaks into your ear.

He leans down to your heightso you can reply in the same manner. “I thought it was just us. That’s what he told me.” Seonghwa pulls back, just as confused as you were when you arrived. You pull him back in to defend Wooyoung but he doesn’t give you the chance, instead he speaks to you.

“Friends don’t do that, you know that.” He shakes his head and cleans some cups on the side.

You reply. “It’s just how he is!” But you’re not sure he hears you.

As he busy’s himself you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. With the amount of times it goes off you could mistake it for a call, but it’s not. It’s Wooyoung.

hey

heyyyyyyy

hey hey hey

are you here

sumin asked if you’re here

you’re bffs now she says

WEREH SO BFFS NWU

that was sumin

d'you make it or not

can it woo

you lied

now where are you?

He leaves you on read and you sigh. Just as you go to put your phone back he pipes up again.

you know i didn’t mean to

welllllll

bathroom

su thinks she’ll be sick

Read 22:13

This time you successfully put your phone away and bid Seonghwa goodbye, although you aren't sure he can hear you considering the volume of the music and the constant chatter. You push through the group of people in the doorway as politely as you can and make a beeline for the stairs.

The crowding on the stairs didn't slow you down, you came to see Wooyoung but now that Sumin is (supposedly) being sick you want to make sure she's alright.

The bathroom door is wide open, a couple in there all over each other, so you knock on his bedroom door just a couple meters away, assuming she's in the suite. You continuously knock without receiving a response. It takes you a couple minutes to decide what to do. You could go downstairs and see someone you know or you could go home or you could go and see Wooyoung like you said you would. How could you ever knowingly let him down?

You shout that you're coming in before opening the door and the sight you're met with makes you freeze. Much like the couple in the bathroom they're all over each other. Lips and hands constantly moving to cover more area. Each movement more desperate than the last as they pull each other closer. You can't watch any longer and slam the door shut behind you as you leave. You don't know if either of them spot you and you don't want to stay long enough to find out.

You shoot down the stairs just as quick as you went up them. Seonghwa watches you from the kitchen doorway and tries stop you however his efforts are in vain when you rip your wrist out of his grip without slowing your pace. He sees you go through the front door and sighs as he catches a glimpse of Wooyoung coming down the stairs.

"Is she here?!" He shouts over the music as best he can, San, Seonghwa and Yunho are all in his line of sight but they all look at him before going back to what they were doing. He does some extra searching around the first level of his house but his efforts come up short. You aren't with any of their mutual friends or your usual spots.

Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe you left after you realised it wasn't a meet up. Maybe you left when he wasn't there when you got here. Maybe you never came at all. Maybe you came upstairs and opened the door and saw him and Sumin before promptly leaving because who would want to walk in on their best friend and their partner making out? He surely wouldn't want to walk in on you doing that.

Wooyoung opens the front door in order to let some air in as he tries to figure out what's going on. After all that over thinking he's quite confused when he sees you sitting on the curb at the end of his house with Yeosang at your side.

He considers walking over to the two of you but you lean your head against Yeosang’s shoulder and he decides to stay back. He watched from afar as you speak to each other, he can’t make any of it out and he assumes by the closeness that he should leave it alone.

“I just went in. I knocked by no one answered. I upset myself in theory.” You laugh quietly.

He shakes his head. “Not really. You thought she was being sick. Wooyoung doesn’t like sick so you did what you thought was right.”

“It’s his room and I just walked.” You look down and shuffle your feet uncomfortably, thinking back to the scene.

“You usually do, it’s nothing new.” He peers over his shoulder as best as he can and he’s sure he sees Wooyoung watching you from the corner of his eye. Wooyoung notices and pushes the door shut slightly to cover himself.

“I just want to go home now.” You stand up and Yeosang follows suit.

He reaches out for you but you start walking away. “Let’s get something to eat. You’ll just sit and wallow in self pity at home.”

“It’s better than seeing them.” You wipe your eyes, a movement both boys watching you catch up on. Before Wooyoung can even consider comforting you his friend jogs slightly to catch up to you.

He goes back inside and shuts the door behind him. Both you and Yeosang hear the door shut and you look at him as he sighs. He reaches out to wipe your tears and pulls your eyes away from the door.

“What do you want to eat, hm?”

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like watching snow fall and land on wet pavement. The snow won’t settle, so why try. It's so pretty but at what cost? Wooyoung looks at Sumin with so much love, it's the same way you look at him San says. But if it was why can everybody but him see it?

"Did you end up coming over last week?" Sumin diverts the conversation towards you, getting too shy to talk as Wooyoung stares at her.

You wave your hand dismissively and swallow your drink. Her question makes Wooyoung look at you and you softly punch his shoulder as he sits next to you. “Only for a couple minutes because someone said it was a gathering between friends, not a party with everyone he knows.” He laughs and so do you to hide how annoyed you really are, this makes San stare at you from across the table but you slightly shake your head at him.

“Oh!” Sumin exclaims. “Wooyoung said you guys used to party all the time. Are they not your scene?”

“They never really have been, I only went because I was 18 and he wanted me out my dorm room.” You sigh.

“Books were your life back then, one of us had to do it.” San pipes up, sipping his coffee, amused. The other three laugh as you jokingly frown at San.

Silence falls over the table as all of you dig into the cakes in front of you and drink your lukewarm beverages. You can see San’s eyes flick from you to the couple as they feed each other, you try to pay no mind to it but he watches your shoulders slump the tiniest bit more and he can’t help but feel pity for you.

It’s past the lunch rush for Aurora hence the group gathering but you can’t help but feel like an outsider to the other three. Wooyoung and Sumin being in love and San not having to battle the same feelings as you makes it easy for him to speak. But every movement you make has you second guessing yourself. For comfort you end up watching Wooyoung, something you’ve done for a long time that you aren’t quite sure you can give up.

He’s so pretty and lovely and caring and kind and the thought of all that makes you want to fall for him all over again. He’s so happy to watch Sumin talk to San even though he’s the biggest chatterbox at the table, he’s so content that they’re getting along. His eyes tell you everything you need to know about how he feels and as comforting as they are how easily you can read them hurts. Because it’s not for you.

Sumin smiles at you and you shoot her one back. She doesn’t seem hurt or jealous or angry that you’re staring at her boyfriend, there’s an unreadable emotion in her eye that you can’t pinpoint but you know it’s not negative. San spots your interaction and sees you ever so slightly cringe and curl into yourself.

He takes this as a sign to go, as much as he knows you want to stay for Wooyoung (just for it to be like old times once more) he can’t bare the sight of you working yourself up and feeling like you make people uncomfortable. He’s seen it all before but this time it seems to be worse. Maybe it’s because he can see how in love Wooyoung is, how both of you know Sumin is the one for him and this is it, how you wished to be loved the way you love him. San stands up with a smile “I’ll pay for this one, Wooyoung you’re paying for the next.”

“You’re going?” Wooyoung goes to take his wallet to pay his and Simon’s portion but his friend dismisses just as fast.

“Mhm, we have to take Byeol to the vet. You know my sister doesn’t like doing it and I don’t like going alone.” He gestures for you to get up, which you do.

Wooyoung reaches out for your hand as you step out the booth and you feel him just graze your wrist, his movements causing you to move back. His touch burns, it hurts and you’re not sure why. All you know is that you can’t see him right now because everything is starting to hurt.

You can see Sumin from the corner of your eye as the gears begin turning in her head and she connects dots you wished she couldn’t. She’d caught you.

Quickly, you wave bye to the couple and Seonghwa behind the counter as he finishes up his shift and leave San to pay. Wooyoung considers going after you but Sumin shakes her head and he doesn’t. “Girl to girl, don’t worry.” Is enough for him to leave it alone. You’d never spoke to him about ‘girl problems’ before so if she knew, that was already more than him.

San comes outside and sees you sat on the curb with your hand on your chest. He can’t tell if you’re trying to slow your heartbeat or steady your breathing but he leaves you to it until you’re ready to talk.

“I’m a terrible person, San.” You look over your shoulder at him. “I like a guy with a girlfriend and she knows but that’s barely changed anything.”

“You don’t just like him, you’ve loved him since we were kids. No partner has ever changed that for you. You aren’t a terrible person, not when you liked him first.” He tries to reason. He reaches out to you and helps you stand up.

The pair of you walk to his car in complete silence. There’s nothing else that can be said because he’s right.

The car isn’t too far, just down the road, but it gives you time to think about your next steps. You could either come clean and move on, never mention it again or apologise to Sumin. Coming clean could ruin everything though and suffering in silence for too long can ruin a person but you have nothing to apologise for. You’re stuck in an endless loop of hurt.

As you slip into the passenger seat you can feel the dreaded vibration of your phone in your pocket. You don’t open the message, instead watch it come in on your lock screen.

I don’t blame you. You’ve known him for much longer and he cares about you. You haven’t done anything to come in between us so I can’t fault you. I won’t say anything if you don’t feel comfortable with it.

“Sumin knows.” You read the message out to San before turning your phone off in your lap.

“And how does that make you feel?” He tries to be empathetic as he starts the car.

“Pathetic.” Your phone lights up one more time but you flip it over after reading the next message.

Just don’t hurt yourself more than you have. A boy isn’t worth that much.

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like watching the cherry blossoms flower and then counting the petals as they fall. The petals, although beautiful, are eventually forgotten about. You sit at the kitchen island, staring at the clock above the oven. 10:23pm.

Sighing you open your text thread with Wooyoung once again and check if he’s read any.

Today 11:14

what’s the plan then dude

it’s the 17th

Today 14:22

you missed the last one

you said we’d watch two movies to make up for it

doctor strange isn’t gonna watch itself??

Today 17:36

what are we doing????

wooooooyuuuuuuu

is it off??

Today 19:12

san came instead

thanks for letting me know you weren’t coming

Delivered

Just as you go to turn it off and head to bed you watch the ‘Delivered’ switch to ‘Read 10:24’ and your heart drops but you’re not sure why.

When it comes to Wooyoung you’re not sure about a lot of things but there’s not much you can do about it. You’re so used to feeling that way that, to you, at the end of the day it is what it is. It’s how you feel and you can’t help that, you just have to learn how to navigate it.

Your phone rings and you see his caller ID. Hesitantly you pick up, Lord knows what he’s going to say but you hope it’s along the lines of sorry.

“What’s with you and San recently?” He exhales.

You laugh quietly, he’s the pathetic one now. “Not even a hello?”

“I don’t show up so you replace me with San yet again?” You can hear shuffles on the other end of the line.

“Was I supposed to stay by myself on the day we have reserved for each ot- wait, you didn’t show up you’re right!” After turning the lights out and shutting off any electrics you need to, you go to your bedroom and put your phone on charge. “Hold on, you’re on speaker.”

“We were supposed to watch Doctor Strange together!” He argues.

You laugh at him, amused once again. “Wooyoung you didn’t show up and didn’t even tell me, how was I supposed to know you wanted to watch it with me when you didn’t have the decency to text me?”

“I forgot! I went out with Sumin and my time was taken up!”

“So why are you mad at me!”

The line goes quiet and you’re sure he’s put the phone down. After hearing some more shuffling from him that theory doesn’t stand. Either way he still doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know actually.”

“Meeting on the 17th is our thing and you forgot, we’ve done it every month since we were 15 Woo. You forgot, it was something you wanted to do and now you’re mad at me because I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

He falls quiet again and this time you put the phone down. You’re already hurting after being ditched but being ditched for Sumin (even though they’re together) on your day made it still just that tiny bit more.

You watch his caller ID show up on your phone again but you turn it off and flip it over on your nightstand. Before you lay in bed you flip down the picture of you and Wooyoung at your graduation that sat next to it.

He’d never forgotten before, he used to make a point that it was your thing not only to his partners but your own friendship group and yet he’s the one forgetting. He’s the one who’d got your hopes up only to leave you hanging.

You lay awake that night, overthinking. Staring at the ceiling of glow in the dark stars you and Wooyoung put up one night after watching The Blair Witch. Regardless of how you feel about him a friend doesn’t do this to a friend. He didn’t forget to go bowling with Mingi and Yunho. He didn’t forget to go to the lakes with Jongho. He had meetings with Sumin those days too. Were you just that forgettable?

Quickly you text your best friend, feelingly conflicted after putting the phone down and being shouted at for something that was entirely his fault.

it’s our thing

you left me and that’s on you

Delivered

You keep your phone open on the message screen expecting Wooyoung to be awake considering you know he has the next (or current, depending on how you see it) day off however nothing comes.

Instead you watch the ‘Delivered’ switch to ‘Read 04:25’ with no response.

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like flipping through an old photobook as you fantasise about what could have been. It had been a while since the whole group were together (in a calm setting) but it had been a long time coming seeing how busy you had all been.

You can’t stay mad at Wooyoung for long, it’s been a week and you’re currently sat next to him on Ningning’s couch as she pulls out your yearbook. “Here he is,” she covers Wooyoung’s picture and shows it to Sumin who’s also sat next to him “we did let him walk around like this. I can only apologise.” She takes her hand off the picture and she immediately laughs.

“This is you?!” She points at her boyfriend only for him to look down and laugh. The rest of you laugh as well and she scoffs in amusement. Her eyes scan over the rest of the page. “You were all in the same class, that sounds like trouble.” She mutters jokingly.

“If you were looking for trouble it was these two.” Seonghwa point to you and Wooyoung. “Team Rocket over there.” He rolls his eyes, thinking of the many times he or Hongjoong had to free you from detention.

You lean back and pout. “It wasn’t even me, it was all him and I was taken in by association!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have associated with me then!” He fires back just as fast.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t!” Both of you roll your eyes at the same time causing the others to laugh once again.

It was nice to be in a friendly setting with everyone rather than stuck in a small space with the couple. You’d been seeing them at random times of the week, Wooyoung being the one inviting you out never Sumin. She text you from time to time however it was mainly to ask how San was and if you would both be seeing them soon as a group.

“How did everyone become friends then? I’ve never been with you all at the same time to know.” Sumin hand’s back the yearbook to Ningning and looks around expectantly.

“Ning and I are childhood friends.” You start.

“Then hell-spawn moved in next door.” Ningning glares at Wooyoung who does the same back.

Yunho smiles at the pair. “Mingi and I met them in middle school after Wooyoung tripped Ning into Mingi.”

“Jongho and I were always in the same classes and clubs.” You add.

“Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Yeosang were in the high school student committee so they were running into these two all the time.” Mingi points to you and Wooyoung who frown at him.

Wooyoung mumbles quietly “No need to add that.” making Sumin laugh.

“And San joined my home room and just never left.” You smile at him which he returns pretty quickly. “Made me show him around the whole school only to find out he didn’t even go there.”

Sumin’s jaw drops in disbelief as she looks at San who nods with a cheeky smile. “Wow so you really have been friends for years!” She looks over the room. “It’s really nice to have you all be so welcoming no matter how long we’ve known each other.”

“Don’t worry about it, anyway come with me. I have so many good pictures of Wooyoung, you have to see them.” Ningning stands up and offers a hand to Sumin which she quickly takes, standing up too.

As they leave to the hallway people begin to funnel out of the front room and you follow Yeosang to the kitchen. You both silently make yourself drinks as well as pour some extras for everyone else. There’s a quiet sound of chatting coming from behind but you and Yeosang continue in silence.

He watches over you with a look that asks how you are and all you can do is shrug, there’s not much you can do about how you feel but live with it, you have for years anyway.

A call of your name from the hallway takes your attention away from the silent conversation so you put your drink down and instead you go and join the other girls as they look at photos. Sumin points to a picture on the wall of you and Wooyoung, both of you in relatively formal outfits that match to a certain level. “When was this?” She seems so innocently intrigued that you take it off the wall and let her hold it. She brings it closer to her face and comments about how small you both were.

You’re both stood next to each other timidly, his hand holding yours as you both smile. His purple tie matching your purple dress. The picture was taken by your mom but Ningning had begged for a copy.

“The night after graduation, right?” Ningning leans it towards herself slightly.

The night after graduation. The night where Wooyoung pulled you away from the makeshift gathering you and everyone else in your year were having to tell you that he decided not to go to his dream college even though he was accepted. He told you he couldn’t go because he didn’t want to be far away from you because best friends don’t just up and leave each other.

The night where you almost had your first kiss, with Wooyoung at that. The only reason it didn’t happen was because Seonghwa thought something bad had happened (you guys were away for 30 minutes to be fair) but instead walked in on your lips just barely grazing each others. He left but that didn’t matter because the moment was gone. So you both settled on holding each other close and slow dancing until you were too tired to do it anymore.

The night your crush on Wooyoung came into full effect and you fully believed that the moment between you at the gathering would lead to something more but instead it went unaddressed and ignored. Your heart clenches at the memory and you have to physically stop yourself from clutching your heart.

Ningning breaks you out of your daze by asking the same question as Sumin. She watches your heartbreak for your younger self as you think of the night, after all besides Seonghwa who saw you she the only other person who knows fully what happened that night. “Yeah, we had to make our own prom because our senior pranks went too far.” Both you and Ningning laugh at the memories while Sumin continues to look at the picture.

“Wooyoung come look at this!” She exclaims. He pops around the corner and she passes the framed picture to him. He falls silent just as you did and looks up at you. “You two were so little.”

“We were indeed.”

“You were matching too.”

“She had no other friends, someone had to go with her.” He laughs to himself before leaving quickly, Sumin follows after him while asking about the senior pranks he had commit.

Ningning turns to you and places her hand on your shoulder, she strokes the are with her thumb. She’s given you the same look so many times you don’t have to speak to her to know what she’s going to say, it’s not like you could do anything about it anyway.

“Let it go, it’s fine.”

“No it’s not.” She tries to reason but you’ve already pushed her hand away from you and joined everyone else as they gather around the front room once more.

Loving Jung Wooyoung was like watching flowers die. Originally you cared for them but as time passes you realise can’t keep holding onto them. You realised this when Sumin text you last night asking if you and San would want to meet her and her boyfriend in a couple days to hang out. (She didn’t explicitly say ‘her boyfriend’ but saying ‘my Wooyoung’ was enough to make it sting a little.)

You responded to her a few hours later reminding her you and Wooyoung have plans, a text she leaves on delivered but you know she’s read it. So you’re confused when she walks in before your friend, she thanks him for holding the door for you and waves at you.

Wooyoung pulls out a chair for her across from you and then sits next to her. “I couldn’t leave Su behind, not if we’re coming here.” He holds her hand on the table. “It feels like it’s our place now.” You’re taken aback but you feel so much different from last time. You feel hollow, like an empty can that’s being kicked as someone walks down the street. It doesn’t hurt as much as you think it would, as much as it usually does.

“So what did you wanna see me for?” He keeps his body facing Sumin but looks your way.

“Just a catch up is all, we haven’t seen each other in a while.” Your statement makes the atmosphere awkward. You all know why you haven’t seen each other but it goes unsaid and instead makes Sumin put her head down awkwardly.

You lean back in your chair and cross your leg over the other. “How have you guys been then?”

“Well, we’ve been alright.” Wooyoung starts. “Su met my parents recently, that happened too.”

She nods. “They’re really nice.”

“How are you?” He follows up, looking away from Sumin.

“I’ve been good. San, Yunho and I have been hanging out loads, we’re going bowling with Ningning and Yeosang next Saturday so, yeah, I’ve been busy.”

Wooyoung leans back too, confused. “Where was the invite?” He tries to joke but it doesn’t come off as one.

“We sorted it in the group chat, you never replied so we thought you were busy.”

“Well I’m sure we can come right?” He looks over to Sumin who agrees, stating that their calendars are empty.

You shake your head and look down at the table. “We already booked it for five. We planned it like two weeks ago so.”

The table falls silent. None of you are too sure what to talk about. It’s true, you did call Wooyoung to catch up and hang out but with or without Sumin there wasn’t much to talk about. How do you catchup with your best friend who’s supposed to know everything about you? He spent all him time with his girlfriend, which is understandable, but it felt like he was leaving you behind. Not only you but the rest of the group.

There was nothing you could talk about, leaving the three of you sitting quietly looking around the cafe. It wasn’t the same as last time, this time you weren’t doing it because you were hurt or upset and didn’t want to look at the couple. This time you were doing it because it was awkward and there was nothing else you could say. You wanted to reconnect to Wooyoung but you didn’t know where to start.

You wanted to be his friend again.

That small realisation hits you hard. You weren’t stuck on him. You wanted to go back to the way it was before. You’d have to relearn everything about him but you were willing to do it if it all felt normal again.

There’s nothing you can say to fill the silence at the moment. All of you shift uncomfortably. Wooyoung wants to see you, Sumin doesn’t want to do anything that could upset you considering she knows (well, knew) about your feelings towards her boyfriend and you’re fighting yourself on what to do.

“I think I should go.” You announce, you aren’t sure to who but they both seem to take it on board. “I’ll see you around.”

You and Sumin give Wooyoung no time to argue as she assumes your seat and you leave, she smiles at you softly on your way out which you reciprocate quietly.

The scene mirrors the one when you first met her, only this time she knows you’re watching through the window but she pays no mind to them. You watch as she talks his ear off while he nods and agrees every now and then. He stares at her with an emotion you can’t quite read, perhaps you weren’t in love enough to know if it’s a stage of that or not.

Before you can think about your next steps your phone rings and you’re quick to pick up. “Hello, San.”

He makes a small sound of shock. “You sound much more joyful than I would have expected.”

Taking your eyes away from them you look up at the clear sky. “Yeah, well, it’s a good day.”

“That’s good.” San sounds just as content as you. “That’s what acceptance is like.”

“How would you know?” As if your brain is working on autopilot you begin walking toward Aurora.

You can hear some sort of movement on the other end of the line. “We’ve all been through it at least once.” Hearing Byeol meow at San as he walks past her makes you both laugh, her volume will never daily to make you smile.

Both of you stay quiet, the silence isn’t awakened like earlier or sad like last time, it’s nice. Neither of you had to fill the space or force anything, you see each other so often now that there’s nothing to update on.

His car door slams and his keys jingle. “Aurora?”

“Yeah.” Smiling, you cut the call off with the small cafe in sight.

Loving yourself after so long is like having a picnic in Summer. It’s bright. It’s warm. It’s enjoyable. San sits across from you on your blanket, empty food boxes around you and bottles of fizzy leaning against your leg, staring you down while he paints. He pouts as the 30 minute timer goes off, cutting off his playlist when it does.

“Hey drop the pout! At least you’re not doing this with Hongjoong or Yeosang, they would have wiped the floor with both of us.” San pulls his painting closer to himself as you reach out for his. “Come on, I worked hard on this!” You plead but he shakes his head.

“Five more minutes?”

“No, we can flip them at the same time-“

“But you’re so much better than me at drawing!”

“I’m literally not!”

He finishes up some details before hesitantly handing you the small canvas, you do the same with a smile and at the same time you both flip them over to see the paintings.

San had (poorly) painted a portrait of you in the park you were sat in with the exact same setting behind you, a stream and flowers behind you. There were a few ducks painted on there too, all sat in a line. You smile at the painting, making San smile too.

He checks over your picture and immediately spots Byeol in the corner. It makes him smile, how much you love that cat.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect, I’ll put it up in my home office.” He puts the picture down and admires you staring down at his portrait.

You turn the paintings face up and leave them on the blanket to dry in the sun while you begin to eat any remaining snacks and fruit.

The whole experience is calming and comforting. “Next time we’ll have to bring Ningning and Jongho. There’s something there, I’m telling you.“ San laughs and shakes his head before offering you to feed you a strawberry which you gladly bite. “There is something there! There always has been! I’m telling you San!”

“Or we could bring Byeol on a harness and leash.”

“Why didn’t you say before we left?! She’s home alone on a nice day and we could have brought her with us!” Your phone begins to vibrate, presumably with texts, which you ignore to continue talking. “Next time it’s nice out we will.”

“Alright, promise?” He reaches his pinky over to you and you lock them. “Promised. Now are you going to get that?”

You push your thumb against his with a small smile. “We had to make it official first.”

Once you let go you pick up your phone, opening it quickly to see where the notifications were from only to see _ on your messages. Opening the app you realise they’re all from Wooyoung.

Today 13:16

r u busy rn

can I come over

I’m freaking out rn

I think su is done with me

what do I do

what do women do

how do I apologise

nvm she doesn’t want me to apologise

she wants time

what does that mean

i’m out with san right now

i told you two days ago

but it’s our first fight

you should probably message hongjoong

he’s good with stuff like this

pleas dude

wooyoung i can’t help

sorry

You put your phone back down without awaiting his response. “He fought with Sumin and he wants to know what to do.”

“Are you going to see him then?” San seems slightly nervous about your answer which thankfully goes unnoticed by you. Once you shake your head you can see him visibly relax.

Lying back you laugh at him. “Why would I?”

“You usually do.” He reasons, moving to sit down next to you.

“Fair.” You turn your head towards him and squint to see him. “Well, I’m here with you so there's no need to go anywhere. do you want me to go?"

San lifts up his hand to block the sun out of your eyes, letting you look at him properly. "No." He shakes his head while biting his lip.

"Then I won't." You move your own hand away from your eyes and rest it on your stomach as you close your eyes. "It's been really nice today, thank you. I think we should do this more often, with Byeol next time."

"That would be nice." He's thankful that you can't see him because he's sure that the face he's pulling right now isn't the best, he's trying to find the right words for what he's about to ask. "Do you think we could, possibly, may- Never mind actually.” He shakes his head and looks around the park awkwardly.

“Maybe next time we could make it a date. I don’t want to jump into anything now after everything but I think, if you’re willing to wait, we could try.” You turn your head away from San and sigh.

He smiles to himself. “I’ve waited for a while, what’s a couple more months.” Both of you quietly laugh at his comment. “Don’t fall asleep now, we’re yet to go on the swings.”

“Oh, leave me alone! I’m just resting my eyes!”

Loving you is like dreaming. It’s so incredible, it’s everything you want. Except when you when up you have to face reality and it’s difficult. That’s how Wooyoung feels as he watches you laugh at a joke Yunho says he doesn’t find all that funny, maybe it’s because he leaned in and told you personally and Mingi and Yeosang laughed because they just caught him saying it. You laugh so hard a hand rests on your stomach while the other hits Yunho’s shoulder.

“You’re staring holes into him.” Jongho comments beside him. Wooyoung continues to watch you from the other end of the table as you place some meat from the small barbecue onto Mingi and Yeosang’s rice while telling Yunho to get his own. “Wooyoung eat your food or go.” Jongho repeats your gesture but gives himself and his sulking friend meat instead, Seonghwa scolding him as he does.

Ningning sits across from Wooyoung and shakes her head. She glances over at San who watches you attentively, a smile slowly forming on her face. He stares at you with that same look you used to have when staring at Wooyoung and it’s enough to let her know you’ll be alright. She’s glad it’s him. Anyone else and she would have had her doubts but San stuck with you throughout all your hardships and struggles, even if he hurt himself along the way. Again, much like you did with Wooyoung but you’re past him now.

Wooyoung looks across at Ningning and follows her eyes to San. He’s brought straight back to reality. A cold feeling washes over him. He’s confused but when everything clicks his heart burns. His face mimics yours when you first met Sumin as he begins to notice all those small things he didn’t before.

How you left soon after meeting Sumin. When you lied about seeing them together that night (something neither of you have ever addressed, he’s not sure why). Why you were upset about being left on your day. All the uncomfortable moments and shifting when they spoke to you about you.

“It’s not… fair.” He whispers, Jongho is the only person that catches it and watches him leave. The group turns to him as his seat screeches when he leaves. He meets your eyes and for a second he spots understanding which is then followed by guilt. Jongho goes after him as he makes his exit, leaving everyone else to continue their conversations and eating.

Ningning follows suit too, leaving the two hotheads alone would result in an outburst you don’t deserve and as your longest friend all she ever wanted was your happiness. Wooyoung’s ruined it once she she’ll be damned if she lets it happen again.

Both Jongho and Ningning stare at him with pity as he watches you, San and Yunho laugh together. “It’s as if I hadn’t just left. I feel so-“

“Invisible?” Ningning leans towards him slightly. He nods and looks between you and San. “You can’t expect her to pay attention to you all the time.”

Wooyoung doesn’t come back inside even after Ningning and Jongho do instead the pair of them watch him through the window as he leaves. Both you and San see him from the corner of your eyes but by the time you’re properly looking he’s gone.

Instead he walks all the way back home, leaving his stuff behind in the process. It’s late and the street lights barely work but he’d rather be alone. It’s probably not the best to be alone with his own thoughts and feelings but it’s better than seeing you and San.

In the restaurant Jongho and Ningning watch their friend’s phone vibrate, it’s the third time ‘Sumin 💕🎀’ has shown up on the screen. Both of them leave it alone as they continue eating.

There’s nothing they could do but watch the cycle repeat. You’d both put each other through it unknowingly, only a little too late.

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glitterjay · 19 hours

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I need popular heeseung and unpopular y/n who has a crush on him but gets rejected when she tries and confesses but later on gets drunk and ends up in his bed

⭒ popular!heeseung, unpopular!reader, rejection, mention of alcohol / getting drunk, they dont fuck!!

⭒ c's note: it would hurt my following lives if heeseung rejected me

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @kissestoenha

lee heeseung, the captain of the basketball team and the man who has been your crush for as long as you can remember, was hosting a party this upcoming weekend to celebrate the team making it to nationals.

of course, the whole institute was invited because he's popular like that, and he knew his friends would want to invite others anyway.

your very own friends have been encouraging you for the past year to finally confess your feelings to heeseung. it wasn't that hard to talk to him at all. he wasn't a jerk type of popular.

"you won't know what could happen if you never try. what if he likes you back?" one of your friends said.

"and what if he rejects me?"

"then you'll be able to finally move on!"

you shook your head, still unsure. you always think you're ready to tell him how you feel, but you can't help but think that to him, you're just another girl who finds him attractive.

and you were right. you grew tired of your circle pestering you to go talk to him, saying how you could even have a chance to hook up with heeseung at the party. so you gathered the courage to approach him during your study hall while he was switching classes.

"heeseung, you've got a second?" you called.

he waved his friends off, shooting a kind smile that always melted you on the spot. "for sure! got questions about the party?"

you balanced on your heels, your hands playing with the hem of your shirt as you prepared yourself mentally.

"look, i know this is crazy and sudden," you started. "but i've liked you for quite some time now. i know you don't even know who i am; i'm just a phantom or whatever, but i just wanted you to know."

his smile never left his face, which was actually making you more nervous. he let out a giggle and ruffled your hair. "i appreciate it, really. there's no day where i don't get something like this told to me, so it's not sudden at all. i'm sorry i can't tell you my feelings, but what i can tell you is that i do know who you are. i've seen you a few times hanging out by the bleachers, and you were in my english class last semester! at least you aren't like those girls who are always on top of my ass." he shivered.

the entire world fell on your shoulders. it's true that you were expecting a rejection, but him actually knowing you left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

"regardless of what just happened, make sure to have fun, mkay? see you at the party?"

"yeah, see you at the party..."

"i dont want to go!"

"but you told heeseung you'd see him there!"

"and!?"

your friend was trying to get you out of bed, desperately throwing things at you—which you were dodging by being under the covers—so you could start getting ready.

"i don't want to humiliate myself like that."

"it'll be more humiliating if you stay here like a loser. c'mon!"

"ugh, fine!"

it took you about an hour to get ready, considering you had been crying since the encounter with the boy.

once ready, you and your friends headed straight to the party's location. to be honest, you did not want to see heeseung at all, but you deserved to have fun after getting rejected.

but it was not your day at all. you saw him, everywhere. every time you wanted a mew drink, on the dance floor, with his friends, he was in every corner you looked at.

this made you get drunk quite fast, drinking bottle after bottle to help you distract yourself from the thoughts flooding your mind.

later through the night, your friends scattered all over the place. you could feel your head spinning, and you wanted to go home.

you got up from where you were sitting, holding on to anything you could as to not fall.

the amount of people was making it even harder to walk, and in the blink of an eye, you bumped into someone. when you looked up, you saw no other than lee heeseung himself holding on to your waist.

you weren't going to lie, he looked hot. maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you felt like you could kiss him right there.

"are you okay?"

you didnt answer. you kept staring right at his face. his hair slicked back made his face features a lot more noticeable. he should start styling his hair that way more often.

heeseung dragged you with him to his room. it was the safest place he could think of since it was locked and only he had he key.

he sat you down on his bed and gave you a water bottle he had on his nightstand.

the water was able to sober you up a bit, and now you were aware of your surroundings. still, you had the urge to kiss heeseung's gorgeous face, something you would not think of if you were in your right mind.

"hey, heeseung?"

"hmm?"

"can i kiss you?"

"only if you sober up."

#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen #engene #kpop #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen imagine #enha imagine #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen heeseung

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hippolotamus · 14 hours

Text

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🪩

tagged by the always lovely and talented @dangerpronebuddie 🔪 @loveyouanyway 💔 @diazsdimples 💖 definitely go read their snips!

Thanks to some prodding from James (and inspo from the tune that goes with this scene) Mirrorball fic has made a return (*chants to self* please stay, please stay, please stay) This scene happens way after anything posted so far. Nonetheless, master list of snippets and lore here. Bon appetit or whatever

Chim taps on the screen, opening Buck’s message and lets out a disbelieving huff. He scrubs at his chin, occasionally flicking his gaze up to Buck then back down to his phone. This goes on for what must be a solid minute before Buck’s curiosity and impatience get the best of him. “What?” Chim pockets his phone and looks at Buck, really looks at him. A piercing and disarming stare that makes him squirm, and not in a good way. It’s not often that this side of Chim shows up. The part that’s more like an older brother, loving and caring for Buck even when he probably doesn’t want to. Buck knows he should be more grateful, but right now he really hates it. He wishes Chim would go back to teasingly calling him a dumbass about whatever ridiculous thing he did or said. “I know you’re not asking me that right now. Like, I’ve always known you weren’t the brightest sometimes, but jeez, Buckaroo, I didn’t think you were this stupid.” Buck resolutely stares at his shoes, at the album covers and other kitschy knick knacks decorating Chim’s small office, at the imaginary dirt under his fingernails. Anywhere but at the man in front of him. “Have you tried talking to him, Buck? Like actually talking to him.” “No need,” Buck sniffs, aiming for nonchalant and missing by a mile. “He made it pretty clear how he feels about things. About us.” He crosses his arms defensively and bites the inside of his cheek. He’s done crying over Eddie. (Okay, he’s not, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to let himself do it in front of Chim.) “You don’t think that maybe there’s a chance-” “I don’t have anything to say to him!” He curls his hands into fists, digging the nails into his palm. “And there isn’t a damn thing he could say that I wanna hear from him right now. Or ever.” Nothing except I’m sorry, I was wrong. I fucked up and I didn’t mean it. I love you. “He made his choice and now I have to deal with that. Because I still have shit to do. If this is how I choose to make sense of it all in my head, Chim, then so be it. So.” His breaths are ragged and shallow, his voice trembling. He swipes away the tears beginning to escape before they can roll down his cheek. “Are you going to do this for me or not?” Chim studies him for a moment and Buck thinks he’s about to get an earful. Except he doesn’t. “Yeah.” Chim sighs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Buckaroo. I’ll take care of it.”

The Tunes™️

np tagging @actuallyitsellie, @epicbuddieficrecs, @a-noble-dragon, @tizniz, @mountedeverest,

@fortheloveofbuddie, @weewootruck, @saybiwithme, @bidisasterevankinard, @shipperqueen6,

@ramonaflow, @taketheplanspinitsideways, @spotsandsocks, @theotherbuckley, @stereopticons,

@kitteneddiediaz, @mrs-f-darcy, @daffi-990, @drowsy-quill, @your-catfish-friend,

@thekristen999, @filet-o-feelings, @wikiangela, @underwaterninja13, @lizzie-bennetdarcy,

@rainbow-nerdss, @steadfastsaturnsrings, @queenmabcreates, @inell, @jesuisici33,

@shortsighted-owl, @queerbuckleys, @bi-buckrights, @elvensorceress,

@bucksbiawakening, @giddyupbuck, @hoodie-buck, @indestructibleheart, @ladydorian05,

@lemonzestywrites, @monsterrae1, @statueinthestone, @slightlyobsessedwitheverything, @the-likesofus,

@thewolvesof1998, @watchyourbuck, @wildlife4life anyone else who wants to 😘

#sorry not sorry but eddie did a Not Great thing #buck is a very sad boi right now #yeah he’s changing up his music again #that’s how he deals #but #maybe he can try the peach cobbler #hippo writes #fic: watch my shattered edges glisten #buddie wip #tease tidbit tuesday #tumblr tags please just work challenge #Spotify

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auseyre · 3 days

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Legacy is one of the major themes of KinnPorsche, and the show is brimming with examples. Physical legacies like the rings and the house, and so many psychological ones. Legacies of hate and love, of regret and trauma, of abuse, of honesty and deceit.

We never get to meet papa T(though we get a pretty clear picture of what he was like), so that leaves Korn as the primary arbiter of legacy in the show. In one way or another, he directs almost all of it. And hey, it’s an outsider that wears a tattoo that says ‘there’s no legacy as rich as honesty’ because that sure as hell isn’t a Theerapanyakul motto. There are two specific legacies that I want to mention though.

“Tragically, your worst enemies will always come from your own household.”

I’ve gushed before over the three sets of brothers and how they’ve defied the legacy of sibling hatred and harm that came before them when it would have been easy to do the opposite. I will always stan sibling love and I adore all three sets of relationships. But the rewatch made me actually delve more into that legacy.

The first time I watched, I just assumed that Korn and Gun had always been in competition, always hated each other, and that was the legacy that got passed on to their sons, but I don’t think that’s true at all. I think at one time, Gun looked up to and admired his big brother. I think it was them and Nampheung against papa T... or at least Gun thought it was. Until the events at the Kittisiwasds house.

When everything goes down, Gun isn’t angry, he’s in disbelief, he’s devastated by Korn’s actions, something that I don’t think would be true with the relationship we see between them now. Now, he knows his brother is a cold-hearted bastard. Tellingly, when he finds out Nampheung is alive, he is shocked back to the Gun he was then, not the cold, angry man he is most of the series.

Korn crafted a new legacy that day, one of broken siblings, competition, distrust, and hatred between the main family and the minor one. And I think he did it deliberately to cover his ass. Who would ever believe a word that came out of the Gun we see against benevolent dictator Korn? Everything Gun said would look like jealousy. As long as Korn kept poking at Gun and the minor family with a stick, he never had to worry about any of them developing a relationship with his sons.

He never had to worry about Gun stumbling onto any information he shouldn’t about Nampheung, Porsche, and Chay. He never had to worry about any of his secrets coming out. Even Kinn didn’t really understand why his uncle hated his family... he thought it was a matter of money and power envy. And Korn wasn’t wrong. It barely took anything for Porsche and Vegas to stumble onto part of the truth, just a little communication.

The kind of communication that Korn spent years sowing distrust to prevent. (Porsche is sorry, not sorry to keep fucking up your shit, Korn.)

That means if you were to encounter the pressures these king snakes exert, your heart would fail to pump blood—that's how strong this is,"

Korn is a king snake. He holds on tight to everything he loves, and everything he hates with the same fervor, constricting until they can’t breathe, until their hearts can’t beat. His sons have learned this lesson well, flailing in his coils their whole lives. Khun is trapped in the house, with lots of toys and some playmates to keep him occupied. Kinn is trapped under the weight of family love and responsibility, and Kim is trapped on a barely visible leash, No matter how much freedom it seems he has, it’s still an illusion. It’s no surprise that they do their best to reject that legacy from Korn. They actively strive to be different from their father in the way that they handle relationships.

Khun

Kinn,

And Kim all let go.

We know it’s not easy. They all try to be stoic about it, Khun playing it off like he's not hurt, not missing his baby brother and leaving first, Kinn and his stiff upper lip, waiting until Porsche is gone before kicking at the handcuffs, the symbol of them tied together and Kim who tries to stifle all emotion, holding it in until he can’t any longer. We see the heartbreak and regret but they still let go. They will wish and want and ask, but they won’t be their father, won’t tie someone in ways they can’t escape, won’t hold them with lies and manipulation, won’t smother the thing they love until there’s barely any life left.

There’s a line that Korn uses from the utterly fantastic, amazing fic Wings of a Butterfly https://archiveofourown.org/works/39799374

.... “you can’t sharpen a blade with silk” and I think about it often okay, because the great irony of Korn’s legacy is that in some ways, Kinn modeled himself after the man Korn pretends to be, not the man he actually is. Yes, he’s more impulsive and irreverent — gifts from his mother as he’s told us, but the kindness, the gentleness, the guy that cares about his people, like Pete said, that’s all from the mask Korn wears.

Korn spent a lot of years moving pieces on the chessboard, only for everybody else to wind up playing another game entirely. His sons won’t be like him, and his nephews won’t be like the man helped create (Porsche, Porchay, and Pete are sorry, not sorry to fuck up your shit, Korn). He may get to write history, but he won’t get to write the future.

#kpanniversary2024 #kp anniversary 2024 #prompt 14 legacy #sorry I can't shut up about this show #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #korn theerapanyakul #gun theerapanyakul #kinn theerapanyakul #tankhun theerapanyakul #kim theerapanyakul #porsche kittisawasd #porchay kittisawasd #vegas theerapanyakul #kp rewatch #maybe the real legacy is the friends we made along the way so suck it Korn

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calxide · 21 hours

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⸻ SLEEPLESS NiGHTS 💤

kazuha x gn!reader | 500+ words ; no pronouns used for the reader. i, literally, cannot sleep so i wrote this fic pls help. written in lowercase. not proofread pls just let me sleep already. words: milk, punch are mentioned. sleeping tgt. god when will i have this. just pure fluff, some brainrot, and definitely no sleep for me.

“i can't sleep.”

it's past two in the morning, yet here you are, standing in front of a dazed, closed-eyed kazuha — a plushie in your arms, blanket on your shoulders, and an oversized pajama.

kazuha tried his best to force his eyes open. but he fails, so he just sends you a smile.

“come in.” kazuha almost hit his head on the doorframe when he turned around to make way for you to get in.

you plopped yourself comfortably on his sofa. “sorry, i had a terrible sleeping schedule last week. now, i can't get it out of my system.”

you've been pulling all-nighters last week because of the hell-stack of schoolworks you had to do, and now, you couldn't bring yourself to sleep, so you decided it's best to show up at your best friend's door at 2 am since you live in the same building anyway.

kazuha chuckled and went to the kitchen. “milk?”

“sure… i'll take anything to make me pass out.”

“a punch then?” he joked.

“why not?”

a few minutes later, he comes back with two glasses of milk in his hands. “here you go, sleepyhead.”

“you're the sleepy one here, dummy.”

“fake it til you make it, they say,” he joked and took a sip from his glass.

as soon as you both finished drinking, kazuha offered to bring it in the sink. after a while, he came back with a blanket enough to fit you two in—enough to cover the sofa you were sitting on.

you raised an eyebrow as if asking what's his plan for the night. kazuha simply shrugged, sat beside you again and covered you.

the blanket was fluffy. it was warm to be under the blanket, and even warmer with kazuha by your side.

you noticed him drifting off. kazuha has been a victim of your sleepless nights for quite awhile now, but he doesn't seem to mind. sometimes he'd ask you to tell him stories so your problems would come off your chest, sometimes he'd be the one to tell tales for you to fall asleep.

but tonight, kazuha's clearly tired, he's completely dozing off. his head was hanging and you're worried he might actually fall off the sofa.

“you can sleep on my shoulder, you know,” you whispered your offer. “or like, just lay your head on the sofa.”

without thinking much, kazuha immediately made himself comfortable using your shoulder as his pillow. you wondered if he had forgotten you were the one who he was supposed to help fall asleep.

although, you don't really mind. sometimes, it's not bad to lend a shoulder to a friend, literally.

you and kazuha just stayed like that for who knows how long — it was quiet, the comforting kind, with the only source of noise coming from the air-conditioner.

you examined his peaceful sleeping face. kazuha looked beautiful as he always does.

you smiled as you felt your heart flutter. ah, silly thoughts.

“good night, kazu,” you mumbled.

you planted a kiss on kazuha's hair, then laid your head on top of his. yawning, you finally felt the melatonin kicking in. and so, you drifted off to dreamland.

kazuha shifted his position a bit and smiled as if he was dreaming. “sweet dreams, y/n.”

NOTE hello hahahahaha 5 months in in 2024 and im back just because my eyebags are insanely bad and i havent had an 8-hour sleep since god knows when (exaggerated but u get my point) plzzz wait for me school is almost done. thanks hope i can fall asleep now... p.s. i havent written anything for so long now so i apologize...

#kazuha x y/n #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x reader #kazuha x gender neutral reader #kaedehara kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #✍ー rein writes

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 22 hours

Text

Darling, Please: Part 2 of 3 Begin Again

Pairing: Husband!John Price x Wife!Reader Summary: You and John meet up months after the incident at your home. Things go exactly to plan. Warnings: angst, no happy ending, grief, divorce, heartbreak (it’s not sunshine and roses sorry) A/N: So I was going to just make this a two part thing but I’m thinking maybe 3? Let me know what you think. No smut, only feels.

Word Count: 1000~

Part 1 | CoD Masterlist | AO3

The café is loud, the hiss of steam from the coffee machine blended with the lowing of idle chatter. Phone calls, business meetings, friends catching up over a brew, it’s all so mundane. It almost makes you forget why you’re here. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills your nostrils as your knee bounces up and down nervously under the table.

There’s a stack of papers in a manilla envelope in your handbag, drawn up by your lawyers last week. Every day since that night on your bathroom floor months ago, you’ve told yourself you were really going to do it this time.

But the moment you see him, holding the door open for a group of teenagers, his smile more radiant than the sun, you know you’re not going to do it.

“Hey,” he greets you with an almost shy utterance of your name. You smile at him, heart hammering in your chest as your stomach churns with butterflies.

“John,” you say, a little breathlessly as you take in the way his t-shirt sleeves strain over his biceps, his beard and hair freshly trimmed as he smiles knowingly at you.

“Didn’t expect to see me looking so good, eh?”

“No,” you fumble as you try to recover from your obvious ogling, fingertips worrying at a sugar packet as you avoid his gaze, “It’s just-,”

“Love,” John says, his voice like honey as he places a broad hand over your own your heart aches at the gold band still on his finger when yours are sat on a dresser at home, gathering dust, “It’s ok, you had every right to expect something different, something much worse.”

You look up into his ocean blue eyes and you see a warmth within his kind eyes that nearly breaks your heart. It’s a warmth you’ve not seen for over a year, the missing part of John that made him your John. You’re sweating, heart threatening to explode in your chest as you let yourself hope for the first time in a long time, that you have your husband back.

“John, I can’t do this,” you force yourself to say, as fear bubbles up in the back of your throat, making your voice crack as tears burn at the corners of your eyes, “I can’t keep letting you back in just for you to drag me back down with you.”

The hand covering both of your own squeezes lightly before pulling away. You have to stop yourself from chasing the warmth of his touch.

“I understand,” he says solemnly, “I didn’t expect you to come running back at the first sign of a fresh haircut.”

He surprises you once again, his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but he isn’t angry. He isn’t reeling from the sting of your rejection, instead he seems… relieved?

“Then what? What did you want to see me about, John?” You ask as icy fingers of finality grip around your heart.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he says as he plays with he gold band on his finger, it’s only now that you notice he can’t take it off, he’s worn it so long without removing it his knuckle stops it from sliding any further off his finger.

“Go on,” dread forms in the pit of your stomach as you begin to fear for the very thing you had come here to propose.

“I’ve been talking with my lawyer,” he says slowly as he watches your face like a hawk. You notice the messenger bag slung over his chair now. How had you missed that before?

You feel like you can’t breathe, like the air is too thick, too hot. You look around frantically to the exit, where a couple is leaving hand in hand, smiles on their faces as you feel like your world is about to come crashing down.

John is still talking but you can’t hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears. You’re watching his lips move without hearing him as you feel like you’re floating outside your own body.

This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? To get divorced? To unhitch yourself from the self-destructive man you heard leave in the early hours after he fucked you senseless on the bathroom floor.

No note, no goodbye, just another sliver of your soul carved out and devoured by his grief.

But you don’t recognise that man as your husband, not right now when the real John Price is sat across from you.

“Love?” He calls out to you and you’re brought back to the rumbling din of the café, your mouth dry as tears roll down your cheeks.

“John, please, don’t do this,” you plead as you notice an almost identical manilla envelope on the table to the one in your handbag.

“It’s for the best,” he says with a sigh as he rubs his hand over his jaw, “I can’t keep doing this to you, to us.”

“Please,” you beg, but he’s already standing up, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans as he gives you a sad smile.

“I love you,” he says your name with reverence as his eyes shine with unshed tears, “I’ll always love you, but I have to let you go.”

“Don’t do this,” you beg as he shakes his head solemnly, “John, please.”

He’s walking away, back turned as he practically runs out of the establishment.

You don’t think, abandoning your belongings as you run after him, pushing past people with their to-go cups. You hear an angry shout behind you but you don’t care, you have to get to him.

But you hear the familiar rattle of his beaten up Land Rover Discovery, a sound so deeply engrained into your psyche it floods you with dopamine. Only for the hit to be crushed as you see him reversing out of the parking spot up ahead.

Your eyes meet and there’s a flash of regret and sorrow that passes between you as he hesitates. But the spell is broken as he tears his eyes away, looking over his shoulder to make sure he’s not about to hit anything.

He doesn’t make eye contact again as he manoeuvres out of the car park.

Despair hits you like a slap to the face as you realise that it’s over. It’s really over this time. You can’t breathe as you fall to your knees on the dirty pavement. You feel for your engagement and wedding ring, seeking comfort only to find none as you’re met with the bare skin of your ring finger.

You finally got what you wanted.

Didn’t you?

…

Didn’t you?

Part 1 | CoD Masterlist | AO3

#john price #captain john price #captain price #captain johnathan price #task force 141 #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #price x reader #price x you #price x y/n #captain price x you #captain price cod #captain price x female reader #john price cod #captain john price x you #angst

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gayhoediaz · 2 days

Note

Buck's 'be safe' is still ringing in my head and now I'm thinking about how Tommy said he was jealous of how the 118 was an easy family and he wants to belong so much. Here's Buck constantly inviting him into the softest spaces and being sweet and saying 'be safe' and pressing his face to Tommy's as they hug. Easy affection from the most affectionate person and now Tommy gets the full force of that *screams*

no anon you don’t understand this makes me so soft because. this go-around we have only really seen tommy through buck’s eyes, right? so tommy is this big, beefy, confident, smooth man that makes buck weak in the knees (rightfully so girl me too) but. we know that there is more. from lou’s comments, and yes from the comments about being jealous about how the 118 is a family, and from what we know from season two - there is so much more.

tommy is confident. tommy is smooth. tommy is comfortable with his life and who he is. but there is also more.

he is also this guy who has probably never felt as if he belongs anywhere. i’m sure he has friends (as in let’s grab a beer, let’s catch up kind of friends) but he doesn’t have a family (or at least didn’t for a long time) i think he’s very lonely - and i don’t think he’s the kind of person who sits around feeling sorry for himself, absolutely not, but he’s lonely nonetheless.

and now, here is this kid who looks at him like he hung the moon and he’s telling him to be safe and tommy likes him so so so much and he’s trying his hardest to get back to the wedding in time and he doesn’t quite make it so he comes rushing in, covered in soot and yeah he probably doesn’t think that buck is going to be angry by any means, but maybe disappointed? but he’s not. he’s just so happy to see him and he calls him a beast and he shuts him up with a kiss and

tommy just. suddenly has everything he has ever wanted. it makes me so emotional.

#nie answers 💕#i need a meta tag again i don’t remember what i was using #niesmeta #that works

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chiaraanatra · 20 hours

Text

Intoxicating

∘₊✧────✧₊∘ ! 18+ MINORS DNI ! ∘₊✧───✧₊∘

Summary: Anakin just cant help himself.

Warnings: SMUT, dom!reader, sub!ani, mentions of male masturbation, panties (stealing, sniffing, used as gag), mild somno (kinda?[he steals your panties while your asleep]), hand job, mentions of fingering(f), overstimulation(m), orgasm control(?), scent kink(?), pet names (reader calls Ani baby, puppy & sweetheart). IDK what to tell you, Ani and reader are little perverts! No use of Y/N. (Let me know if I missed anything.)

Word Count: 1.2k

AN: Think of this as a belated May 4th gift! Apparently I think any character played by Hayden is just a panty thief. I'm not sorry. Thank you to my wonderful boyfriend for being the inspiration for this! Jay, your dirty dreams are truly an inspiration!

《 m.list || ao3 》

At what point do I just accept that sleep isn't going to happen...?

Anakin woke up next to you hard as a rock with a sheen of sweat covering his body. He wanted to just go back to sleep, he really did, but the only thought on his mind was how desperate he was to cum. How he needed to cum.

He tried to be discreet, palming himself through his boxers in an attempt to ease the harsh ache he felt while trying not to wake you. His eyes followed the streams of light coming through the curtains as they illuminated your peaceful form sleeping quietly next to him.

As if on cue, your body shifted and the sheets that once covered you now left you exposed. Anakin couldn't help but stare as the only thing covering you was a pair of cute cotton panties.

Of course, the thought crossed his mind. Maybe I could just... "Fuck..." He shook his head trying to shake the idea from his head. Little good that did.

Before he could register his movements, he slowly made his way closer to you. He didn't want to wake you just to appease his own perversions, but they were right there, squeezed against your plush hips, and he knew that your scent would send him straight over the edge.

He started to slowly ease the tight fabric off your body. He groaned when he noticed the patch of wetness left behind by your weeping pussy, the sight only causing his lust and need to grow. He continued to move the fabric over your hips, down the soft skin of your thighs, and over your pretty little legs and feet.

Finally, he had them.

Anakin wasted no time bringing the fabric to his face, inhaling deeply before moving his boxers down so he could stroke his cock.

Your scent was beyond intoxicating. No amount of alcohol or drugs could compare to the euphoria that your scent brought. Anakin could feel himself getting closer and closer, not only due to sheer sensory overload but also the perverseness of his actions.

His eyes were screwed shut feeling himself so close to reaching his peak. He was so overwhelmed that he didn't feel the bed shift under your weight as you moved. He only noticed your presence when he felt a soft hand touch his chest. His eyes shot open, a mixture of fear and embarrassment occupying his blown pupils. He was met with a devious little grin and utter delight plastered all over your face.

"You are such a little pervert. Stealing my panties to try and get yourself off..." Your voice was mocking and sultry, doing nothing to ease his embarrassment or how hard he still was. "Well... did it work?"

Anakin couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, still embarrassed he was only able to shake his head.

"Aww, do you need help baby?" Anakin could only nod, "Let me help you."

You moved to rest your back against the headboard and spread your legs. "Lay your back against my chest." Anakin sat between your legs, strong back pressed against your chest. Your hands roamed over his skin with feather-light touches. Gods, your touch made hell seem cold.

Anakin’s breath hitched when your hand finally made its way to his dripping cock. You started slow, painfully slow.

“Faster…” His request came out more as a groan.

“What was that, Ani?” you leaned closer to his ear, “You’re not in any position to be making demands, sweetheart. A pervert like you should be thankful for what I’m willing to give.”

“I’m sorry… I-I ju- mmph!”

You cut him off, shoving your panties in his mouth, “Gods! You are making so much noise, puppy.”

At that moment, all thoughts left Anakin as he was swallowed by pleasure. Muffled moans made their way past the fabric in his mouth. Even quieted, they sounded so desperate and needy. All Anakin wanted to do was cum, he could feel himself getting so close but not able to quite get himself to fall off the edge.

You could tell he was struggling, “Aww, you're trying so hard puppy...” Your mocking tone only made his eyes roll back as his head made contact with your shoulder. “I know what will help.” He could hear the mischief in your tone. What he didn’t notice was you reaching between you, running your fingers along your slit before fingering yourself, just enough to coat your digits with your wetness, knowing that it would push him right over the edge.

You held your glistening fingers up to Anakin’s nose. You smelled divine, so intense. “Open, puppy.” He did just that allowing you to remove your panties from his mouth before replacing the fabric with your fingers.

Anakin groaned at the taste of you in his mouth, you could feel his body tense and his cock twitching. You tasted so good, so sweet. Anakin wanted more but he was distracted by the waves of pleasure that enveloped my body and the familiar feeling of pressure build up.

You continued your brutal pace, fingering Anakin’s mouth with one hand while fucking his cock with the other. Only you got to see this side of Anakin and Gods, he was never prettier than when he was falling apart in your hands.

You kissed his neck, “You wanna cum for me, puppy?”

“Mmhmm” Anakin tried to reply, before giving you a small nod as he continued to run his tongue along your delicate fingers with fervent desperation.

You pressed one more kiss to his neck, “Cum.” As your simple command left your lips, you bit down hard on the juncture between Anakin’s neck and shoulder.

Anakin’s body tensed as his orgasm washed over him like a tidal wave, his cum spilling over your hand. You removed the hand that was in his mouth moving it to wrap partially around his throat. You angled him so you could continue to leave open mouth kisses and bites along his neck and shoulder.

The pace of the hand still on his cock slowed but you weren’t ready to stop yet, despite the soft protests that left Ani’s lips. “I can’t, I-I can't… Please I can't…” You two had a safe word for a reason, if he really wanted you to stop he would tell you. Till that word was spoken, You couldn’t help but overstimulate him just a little. Anything to hear those pretty little whimpers pass his beautiful lips.

Your torture came to an end eventually, much to Anakin’s dismay, though he would never admit it.

Anakin shifted his position so that you were no longer behind him. He watched as you moved off the bed to stand in front of him. “You did so good for me puppy,” his heart skipped at your praise and the smile that graced your features. “Why don’t we get cleaned up and get some more sleep?”

Before you could completely move away from him, Anakin gently grabbed your wrist. You looked back in confusion and worry, “What’s wrong Ani? Did I push you too hard?”

He shook his head, flushed cheeks and fucked out expression still present on his face. “Can… Can I have a kiss... Please?”

“Oh, of course, baby.” You leaned down pressing your lips against his. The kiss was soft and gentle with lips moving slowly in tandem with one another. You were the one to break the kiss, knowing Anakin would be content to kiss you like that for the next ten lifetimes at the very least. “Let’s get cleaned up and when we're back in bed, I’ll kiss every inch of that handsome face of yours.”

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @bimbo-baggins86 @daisydark @espinathena-17 @Ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

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rainybubbles · 3 days

Text

Draw me, love me- Soap x reader

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

"Will you ever draw me, Johnny?"

His eyes fixed on me. With his pencil suspended, he stopped drawing.

"I don't think so, it's merely a pastime," he responded, his tone almost aloof.

"But you've drawn Lizzie, haven't you?"

"That's different."

My lips tightened, my gaze dropping to the ground. A knot of bitterness formed in my throat. If there was one lesson I had gleaned from Johnny, it was that he would never sketch me.

(Never would he love me.)

—-------------------------

-It's quite ironic that our friendship began amidst charcoal and erasers, in a small village lost in Scotland, the only art class for miles around.

-We were the only two students of Madame McGuire, a housewife desperately seeking occupation. Looking back, she was a failed artist. But my parents wanted to cultivate a passion in me, and when my rugby endeavors left me with more broken bones than joy, they finally realized that sports weren't my ally.

-So, at the tender age of 8, I entered that house feeling anxious, and there he was, covered in charcoal up to his nose.

-Seeing him laugh kicked off our sketches.

A stroke of pencil led by questions, followed by a few strokes of erasers as we got to know each other, and slowly our friendship sketch took shape in that decrepit house. Sheet after sheet, our sketches brought us together, his energy was indomitable.

"Hey, will you ever be an artist?" he asked.

It was the first time I was asked the question without disdain. No implication, no 'but think of something else.'

"I don't know," I replied.

That was a lie.

I knew.

I wanted to be, but I didn't dare to dream about it.

"I think you should try; you've got cute pigtails like artists," he said.

"Do all artists have pigtails?" I asked.

"They have quirky hair, my mom says so."

I paused, releasing my marker.

"In that case, my dad can never be one," I admitted sadly.

"Why?" John asked, curious.

"He's bald."

He handed me his favorite marker and resumed his coloring.

"Oh, that's sad for him," he sighed.

"At least he can look like Mr. Clean."

"Is he cool?" he asked.

"...not really," I replied.

"Mine isn't cool either," he said.

"Oh yeah?" I asked.

"When I was born, he left. And now he tries to knock on the door, but my mom won't let him."

"What do you do then?" I asked.

"I threw a bucket of glitter at him," he said.

"Did it work?" I asked.

"Yeah, but now I'm out of glitter for next time," he replied.

"Try charcoal, it stains. Last time, I was covered, and my mom screamed."

"I'll try that," he said.

They were ridiculous sketches, full of stick figures, houses with square windows, and purple-skinned people. But it was our art, our relationship.

_______________________

Slowly, during high school, I found myself gravitating towards the art club, which was slightly larger than Madame McGuire's classes, with a modest increase from one classmate to three. Admittedly, a four-person club crammed into the janitor's closet didn't boast much, but it held a special place in my heart.

Deep down, I harbored a hope that John would join us.

Yet, he opted for the rugby club, and gradually, we drifted apart. While my sketches remained monochrome, his days overflowed with vibrant social interactions.

I felt like a dull canvas, yearning for a splash of color. Meanwhile, he effortlessly embodied a lively watercolor.

Attempts to reconnect faltered. Our conversations in the hallway, the offering of sketchbooks, the inquiry about his artistic pursuits—all met with fleeting gestures, mere nods. In hindsight, I should have recognized my insignificance compared to his bustling world.

Thus, I embarked on a solitary journey from sketches to hues.

It was a daunting, lonely, and unattractive endeavor.

Progress eluded me.

My phone remained silent, notifications reduced to mindless spam, and evenings lingered in the quiet company of my parents.

Weekends became my sanctuary for artistic expression, while weekdays served as a means to evade familial interactions. The cycle persisted.

I found myself trapped in a cycle of sketching, erasing, and doodling, endlessly switching between pencils in a desperate attempt to breathe life into my ideas. Meanwhile, he effortlessly thrived, seamlessly integrated into his vibrant world.

I resented him.

(I resented myself.)

__________________________________

In our second year, Johnny left the rugby club.

No one quite knew why the golden boy, the one so highly touted to future recruiters, would do such a thing, but he did.

That was Johnny now.

No longer the tentative, hesitant charcoal sketch, but a permanent ink drawing.

So, one evening, when I caught sight of his silhouette at the art club, I realized he was back for good.

I didn't know how to take the news.

Embarrassed, I tucked my sketchbook under my arm.

"John," I greeted as I settled in.

"I wanted to apologize, y/n I- I didn't behave well."

"No, no. You've evolved, and that's normal, we can't always stay with the same people."

That's what I kept telling myself.

Adults say stuff like that.

My mom says it when my dad comes home too late, ignoring the scent of perfume on his jacket and the divorce papers in the drawer.

"But still, I missed you. I loved making you laugh and our moments together, and I let all that get to my head."

"...okay," I finally said.

Johnny smiled and handed me a blank page.

"For a fresh start."

"It's your history evaluation, but I appreciate the metaphor."

He apologized and offered another sheet.

That evening, I could finally sketch in peace, with him standing behind me, ink in hand.

Sure, I remained a hesitant pencil, but at least Johnny was there to catch every one of my missed strokes.

Finally back, I felt relieved.

_____________________________

In our final year, something shifted.

Johnny abruptly traded his black ink for bold strokes of red oil paint.

Nothing but red.

His once vibrant gaze darkened, leaving me puzzled by the change.

His aspirations for college faded into whispers, his focus elsewhere, perhaps lost in that obsessive red.

"You're painting a lot in red these days."

"It's my preference."

"Why not... try something else?"

"Are you really the one suggesting that to me?"

I hesitated, unsure of what more to add.

Sure, I remained within the comfortable confines of our village, with pencils, sketches, good grades, the compliant, quiet person, destined for college, but—

I knew.

My life wasn't a venture but a dreary routine.

Yet, why did he feel the need to emphasize it? To dismiss my art like that, to belittle it?

Tears threatened to spill, and I bit down on my lip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I—things have changed."

"You said that last time too."

"But it's true, I— I'm enlisting, y/n."

Only later did I discover the passing of his military uncle. That's what had altered everything. Johnny sought to shield others, to mold his painting into a formidable barrier.

"I understand."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Would you prefer I voice my thoughts? About turning young lives into cannon fodder for people seated in diplomatic chairs? It's not wise, John."

"Y/n, it's not—"

"We don't see eye to eye on this, John. And we never will. So, best of luck, I suppose."

"Thank you."

It marked the first time I expressed my opinion without trembling, without yielding, without erasing it.

For once, I had wielded black ink too.

_________________________

Madame McGuire threw a massive party, a couple of years after we graduated. John kept texting me for New Year's, Christmas, and my birthday. I replied, and that was about it. Everything turned cold after he left. Despite the confidence I gained, I struggled to channel it into my drawings, which were buried at the bottom of my drawers beneath my college coursework. I had given up on art.

"Hey, y/n."

Or so I thought. But seeing him standing there, smiling at me, my only thought was to capture him on canvas so I could observe him every day.

"John."

I couldn't finish my sentence before he enveloped me in a hug. His arms had definitely tripled in size, and his hair was styled in a ridiculous egghead cut, a far cry from the mullet he once dreamed of.

"I'm trying to imitate your dad, it seems," he said, referring to his haircut.

"I bet you cried when they shaved it off," I teased.

"Maybe," he grinned.

It was funny; our exchanges seemed fluid again, our pigments blending once more in the waters of friendship.

"Are you... doing okay?"

Awkward.

He had a smile on his face, he hugged me, and yet, I knew the answer.

"I- yeah," he replied uncomfortably.

Maybe not so fluid after all.

"Are you still doing art? I mean, I heard someone from our village got into an art college on a scholarship, and it has to be you."

My smile faded.

No.

In reality, in high school, you were the art prodigy.

One stroke and everyone praised you, one hand movement and everyone was in awe.

But as you grow older, you're not alone anymore. You're not interesting anymore.

You're just an artist among hundreds of others.

I observed him, wanting to lie, to throw pigments in his eyes, to force-feed him acrylics as lies, but—

"No, y/n isn't frivolous, they chose a history degree," my father interjected.

Frivolous.

What burned with desire, with passion for a decade, the thousands of pages in my drawers, of pencils, of hours spent studying, of sleepless nights smiling.

My father summed it up in one word in the harsh reality of the working world.

A sheepish smile appeared on John's face.

"But you loved it," he said.

"Not so much anymore," I lied.

Because how do you admit to cowardly abandoning your only reason for living?

My heart clenched, my eyes avoided his gaze.

John was like me; he knew what art was, what it meant to be an artist.

I felt his hands on my shoulder.

My heart trembled, scared of the passion John could reignite.

"I refuse to believe that," he said.

"John."

"I kept going, you know, I— I still draw."

"Really?"

"In my journal, at least, I draw. If I don't stop, don't you either, y/n, please, promise me."

His promise was there, my feet at the edge of this canvas of friendship.

And without too much thought, I jumped right in.

"Okay."

________________________________

He sent me his sketches whenever he could. Forced to stick with pencil, his art lost its vibrancy. So, I compensated by using colors, paint. Slowly, confidence crept in, only to be shattered by doubt. But every day, I sent him a photo. And whenever he could, he complimented my art. I think that's what made me fall.

My art... it was me.

It was the essence of who I was — the part of me that didn't need words, that I could shape and mold into something beautiful. It wasn't about my body or my face. My art was my soul. So, his compliments, slowly, I took them for more. Our late-night conversations, from opposite ends of the world, I cherished them a bit too much. His laughter, the way he said my name, his hugs, everything was... him. He appreciated my art. So, I thought he appreciated me.

(It's false, I knew he didn't)

"You know, right now I'm in a desert."

"You told me that six months ago, John," I chuckled over the phone.

"In a different one."

"You should have been an archaeologist at this rate."

"I thought about it, you know, but no, I don't want to be chased by a mummy."

"I don't think that's likely, John."

"You haven't seen enough movies, y/n."

"Yes, actually."

A silence stretched.

"I'm getting promoted."

"Good for you," I smiled.

But the silence persisted.

"But I want to specialize first."

"...what do you mean?"

"I... I've always been good at math."

"Yes, but you don't kill people with equations, John."

"Yes."

"No, I don't— oh. Oh."

"I want to try bombs."

"So you're telling me you want to become Einstein at 4 a.m. in a desert over the phone?"

"My mom would have a fit, and I wanted your opinion."

"No, you don't want that, John, and you know it."

He didn't say a word before finally speaking.

"...it's true, I just needed to talk about it."

I was angry. Why tell me? I hated his job, his sacrifice.

"Damn it, human cannon fodder exploding, you—"

I stopped myself. John had made his choice, no matter my arguments. I was his friend.

"Are you happy?"

"Yes. Really."

"Then... go ahead," I murmured, already regretting it.

"Thank you, y/n."

Suddenly, I wanted to shove my sketches down his throat. To convince him. Being a simple soldier meant he remained accessible, but a promotion... A promotion left me alone, surrounded by his sketches of battles and soldiers.

__________________________________

"Sergeant Soap, looking ridiculous," I smiled.

In his uniform, he had just returned from the ceremony. His family couldn't make it, much to his mother's dismay, who had been calling every five minutes to apologize and had asked me for a hundred photos of her son in uniform.

"Soap is cool."

"Soap? Nah."

He grinned, beer in hand in my apartment.

"You must be charming a lot of people in uniform like that," I joked.

"I admit to my little success," he joked back. "But... there's one, at the moment."

"Thomas?"

"How did you know?" he exclaimed, sitting up.

I laughed.

"You send me sketches of him non-stop, it's your trademark, McTavish. You sketch the people you like."

"...in more ways than one," he added with a smirk.

"Ewww!"

He continued his story about Thomas, our laughter fading in my apartment.

Maybe at that moment, I should have remembered that John had never drawn me.

______________________________

In reality, experiencing unrequited love is quite peaceful.

Nothing pulls you in, life just goes on.

Everything feels dull.

And suddenly, you catch sight of your crush and everything changes.

Then everything goes back to normal.

After Thomas, I caught sight of the sketches of Valentine, Ymir, Julio, Shirley.

Their features all blurred together in my mind, their smiles.

Every evening, I observed myself, searching for a resemblance, hoping to attract him, to be captured by his pencil.

But nothing.

So I continued to sketch him without being sketched in return.

And when I finally asked him the question.

"Will you ever draw me, Johnny?"

"I don't think so, it's just to distract myself," he replied in an almost detached tone.

"But you drew Lizzie, didn't you?"

"That's different."

I understood that he would never love me.

_______________________

- You don't talk to John anymore?

I was at my mother's for the weekend.

In truth, I had stopped sending my sketches (my feelings).

John, on the other hand, continued with his (his friendship).

- Not much anymore. The distance makes it hard, you know?

No, it had never been a challenge for us.

- I see. I... you know, I thought he would help you.

- Help me with what?

- Art.

I paused in the kitchen, setting the bowl on the table before turning to her.

- Mom, it's not—

- I know that—I never said anything. I never opposed your father, but seeing you pursue a history doctorate while every evening, I watched your fingertips, gray with charcoal, I can't help but think what a waste it is.

- Dad has nothing to do with this. I needed a legitimate degree, it's not—

- T/p.

Her voice turned cold.

I met her gaze.

- Stop hiding, please. she murmured, tears in her eyes as she hugged me.

I couldn't move.

- Speak up, address the world. I'm sorry for asking you to remain silent for so long. I should have... I should have spoken up, pushed you further. Go ahead.

It was as if a wave suddenly crashed over me.

I collapsed, tears streaming, into her embrace.

- I'm sorry. I whispered.

I didn't know why I was apologizing.

- It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay. she reassured, tears streaming down her face

Tears flowed, my breathing grew ragged, my nose stuffed, my vision blurred. I felt numb. Dissolving into her arms, all I could do was sob.

- I thought I could handle it. I murmured.

Pretend.

Pretend to be happy in a career I don't want.

Pretend to be happy when he doesn't love me.

Pretend to be happy when I'm not there mentally.

_____________________

Three years had flown by.

Sketching was no longer just a step; I dove in without hesitation. It had been tough—financially, socially. I had no connections in the field, retreating back to my parents' home. Rejection after rejection, unpaid internships barely covering my food expenses. Student loans weighed heavily on my shoulders. The other students seemed younger, more talented. But I held onto my diploma, earned through hard work, even if it meant slaving away at a fast-food joint. I kept applying, day in and day out, until one day, I landed a job as an assistant for a small comic book company.

Back in the village for Christmas, I had done the grocery shopping my mother asked for.

"John," I greeted him, having lost touch with him. In fact, I had blocked him. I needed to move forward. So, I sent him a message, asking him not to contact me anymore because I didn't want that friendship anymore. It was pathetic, I know. I was a jerk. But I needed it, strangely.

"You... you look radiant," he remarked.

"Thank you," I replied.

"I... your message, that—"

"I'm sorry. I needed space at that time. I shouldn't have... done that like that," I apologized.

"I see," he said.

"Still... Sergeant?" I asked, noting his mullet.

"Yeah, I... I'm still drawing," he replied.

"I see, that's cool. I... I'm full-time into it now," I admitted.

His eyes widened. "Damn, you made it!"

"I... it's an assistant job for an adult comic, calm down," I clarified.

"Still, you make a living out of it," he pointed out.

"You could say that, yeah," I said with a smile.

"Can I hug you?" he asked.

I couldn't answer before he did. Instantly, I knew I was back to having a crush on him. This man who always loved my stick figures, smiling and loving. His scent was like paint fumes, comforting yet toxic.

"I missed you," he said.

"You too," I admitted, stepping back.

The silence returned. I don't know why I ended up admitting that. I guess I was trying to fill the void. To panic about the silence. So, this confession slipped out stealthily from my lips, hoping to break the silence.

"I loved you, you know," I confessed.

"I knew," he replied.

Damn joke. I bit my lip when I saw him rummaging in his bag. A sketchbook, barely presentable, lay there, the year of our high school was written on it.

"This... I never showed you because we weren't talking during that year, but yeah, you... you were my muse," he explained.

I eagerly opened the sketchbook. And there they were. Sketch after sketch, painting after painting of me. Smiling, in the hallways, in class, angry, sometimes from memory. There was... only me. And John drew people he loved.

"Damn irony, huh. We don't love each other at the same time. It's... sad," I murmured.

"Oh well, you know... art is timeless, right?" he tried to lighten the mood.

I furrowed my brows.

"Tell that to the art restorers who bust their ass on Leonardo da Vinci's paintings," I retorted.

"Y/n, I'm not talking about that," he clarified.

My eyes met his.

"I... I don't know if this is a good idea," I admitted.

"I think it is," he said.

"John, I—"

"I can love hard enough for both of us, give me a chance. Let me draw you again," he pleaded.

"What if... it fails?" I voiced my fear.

"Then it fails, but I'm a pro at bombs, and you're one, so no risk," he said with a wink.

A silence settled.

"...that was horrible flirting," I finally said, breaking the silence.

"It worked, didn't it?" he replied with a smile.

"Okay," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope.

And for once, that evening, our two faces appeared at the same time in our sketchbooks.

If you want more : my masterlist

#soap x reader #john mctavish x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader

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