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eraenaa · 1 month

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Imgonnagetyouback

Inspired by the song "Imgonnagetyouback" by Taylor Swift

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: The plan is clear. Get Rafe back after your breakup.

Warnings: Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¡Kinda Biased Towards the Reader!, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Not Proofread

Word Count: 3,826

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks since Rafe broke up with you, and only now did you begin to spiral. It was not as if it was your first breakup with him; you would admit you two had a handful of breakups during the duration of your relationship, especially when you consider that you two had been dating since middle school. But this instance was different; this was the first time that Rafe was the one to initiate the breakup. Before, it was always you who called it quits, and he would come to you on his knees, begging you to take him back. However, now, he was the one to leave, and a fortnight had already passed, and no word was heard from him, leading you to become inwardly frantic.

“So this one’s official now, huh?” Sarah asked as you filed your nails, staring harshly at your phone, willing it to light up with a notification from your best friend’s brother. “The audacity he has to do this to me! Did I tell you how he broke up with me?” You asked, and Sarah said no, even though you had ranted to her the story at least twice. “We were just sitting here, watching a movie— we had not fought for at least a month, and then he just said, ‘Let’s break up,’ and fucking got up and left!” You groaned, remembering how you stayed up later that night waiting for Rafe because you did not believe his words and the ludicrous way he ended your relationship. “I hate him! I should smash up his bike to teach him a lesson. He’s so fucking immature!” You groaned and heard Sarah sigh, “I’ve told you that years before and hundreds of times after, but you just ignored my warnings.” You groaned once more and tightly shut your eyes. You feel Sarah go to where you sat, “What are you gonna do now?” She asked and you took in a deep breath. “I’m gonna get him back.” You stated, and from the side of your eye, you saw her expression grow confused. “What?”

“I’m gonna get him back,” You declared once more. “I’m gonna get him back then be the one to break up with him— a real break up this time. Like, totally over.” You say but that did not aid Sarah’s confusion. “He does not get to be the one with the final say. He does not get to be the one to end all of this.” You say. “No offense, Sarah, but I’m going to crush your brother’s heart.” You turn to her and watch her lips twitch. “Do you need help?” She asked, and that earned a genuine laugh from you after weeks of being stoic as you did not know if you should mourn your relationship or wait for Rafe to be standing with flowers at the other side of your door. “I’m gonna get him back so bad.” You say once more as your mind was already thinking of the ways to take your revenge.

You played in the tennis court with Sarah, her already luring in Topper, and with Topper came your now ex, Rafe. They just came from a round of god, and you try your best not to grow distracted by his presence, you willed your stubborn heart not to admit that it had missed him. You bounced the tennis ball, waiting for Sarah to finish her conversation with Topper. You smirked to yourself as you felt eyes on your ass. Specifically wearing Rafe’s favorite tennis skirt of yours. Your mind conjured the memory of him almost drooling as he watched you step out of the fitting room, fashioning the tight, lilac skirt. Just like a moth to a flame, Rafe threaded towards your direction.

“Hey,” He greeted; in his hand was a can of cold beer, and you urged your gaze not to be entranced by the veins on his rather attractive hand. There was just something about how he gripped things. “Hi,” you say, tilting your gaze upward and squinting your eyes as the sun is beaming down harshly. “How are you?” He asked, his voice holding an edge of tension and awkwardness. “Pretty good, we’re three, love,” You say and watch as his lips part as you intentionally use the nickname you used to call him in a phrasing that was completely ambiguous. It was exactly why you asked Sarah to lure them here to the tennis court, knowing it was the only appropriate setting where you could execute at least three parts of your plan to get him back. “Love?” He asked, his voice lower, and you nodded. “Yeah, love. Zero,” You say, your demeanor relaxed as if you were not at all affected that he ended your six-year relationship.

You watch him wet his lips and take a chug of his beer. “About the uh… the— our break up,” He stuttered, and you gazed top at him innocently, “What about it?” You asked and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, your eyes catching the way the ball on his throat bobbed, his lips parting, and you could practically see his mind trying to form his words to address the situation. “That’s it?” He asked after a while, and you bit your lip, knowing he loved it when you did that action, convincing him that you, too, were trying to think of a response even though you already knew how the scene would play out. “Yeah, I suppose. I mean, ours was a middle-school romance; it has run its course.” You said and watch intently as how hurt flashes in his eyes before quickly covering it with cool detachment. “Why? Did you think this would end up in like a marriage or something?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, noting how Rafe’s jaw clenched.

Every word you uttered was like a bullet into Rafe’s chest. He must admit he broke up with you for no particular reason other than just being petty. The sudden breakup was just a result of his pride being wounded. Topper and Kelce had reminded him of the times you broke up with him and him being quick to go down on his knees and beg for you back. His ego could just not stomach the way they called him a ‘simp’ and ‘fucking whipped’ that he made a rash and ill-thought judgment. He was waiting for you to contact him, a call, a text, even a fucking smoke signal, just anything as long as you did the first move first. But two weeks had flown by, and not a word came from you. Now, to hear you say that you’ve expected your relationship to end— that you were practically just counting the days before its demise presented Rafe with sorrow, regret, and, greatest of all, rage.

“Did you think this would end up in like a marriage or something?” The sentence echoed through Rafe’s mind. What the fuck did you mean by that? He remembered all too well the times you gushed about your futures. About how your wedding ceremonies would play out. What dress you’d wear. Where your honeymoon would be. The number of kids you two would have. The house you two will live in. Every specific detail of your future was thought of and was embedded in his mind, and now here you go, disregarding all of those sacred plans.

“Rafe?” You called as he stood before you unmovingly, but you could feel him seething internally. You stepped closer and placed your hand on his arm to get his attention. You bit your cheeks as you feel his skin grow riddled with gooseflesh, a reaction that only you could elicit from him. You stared into his eyes, intense blue orbs that were starting to think twice about his decision. “Hey asshole, get out of the court, we’re trynna play!” You hear Sarah scream from a distance, and you step back and steal away your touch from him but not your eyes, as you wanted him to get the message that there was no apprehension or sadness in you about his decision to end things. Rafe stomped over to the side, standing next to Topper, him obviously agitated and tense. You turned to Sarah, and a knowing smirk appeared on both of your lips as the laid-out plans were going well. You were so gonna get him back.

After your round of tennis at the club, the group decided to go back to Tanneyhill. You made yourself comfortable at the estate that was practically a second home to you. “Hey, Wheez,” You greeted as you went to the kitchens to grab a bottle of water. “Oh, you’re back!” She cried, and you laughed as you were enveloped in a hug by Rafe and Sarah’s sister, who was practically yours, too. “I heard about the breakup,” she whispered as she parted, but her hushed voice was moot as her older brother still heard her words. You were not quite sure what to say, but luckily, Wheezie spoke once more. “I mean, it’s not like it was unexpected, but still! I can’t believe you ended it; you were supposed to be my sister!” She exclaimed, devastated.

“She didn’t end it,” Sarah came, and you watched as Wheezie abruptly turned to her brother, who stood next to Topper, who was hindering from laughing. “You idiot! You let her go?!” She exclaimed at Rafe, and you just stood there as Wheezie expressed her disbelief at her brother. “Shouldn’t you be out playing,” Rafe gritted as Wheezie’s reaction was only solidifying his regret. You bit your lip and perched yourself atop the counter as you watched the three Cameron siblings argue, Rafe trying to be rid of Wheezie and Sarah coming to their little sister’s defense. You turn to Topper, the two of you being a constant audience of this little family affair.

In the end, Rafe, who was urging Wheezie to be the one to leave, was the one who stomped away. “Well, that went better than expected,” Sarah said. The three of you girls were left alone in the kitchen as Topper followed out his friend. “Still can’t believe that he was the one to break it off,” Wheezie said. You simply shrugged, “That’s why I’m trying to get him back,” You say. “So I can be the one to really end it.”

“Wait, so, if you two aren’t dating anymore, who are you going to take to Midsummers?” Wheezie asked. And you feel your lips part as that did not even cross your mind. You and Rafe had always gone to Midsummers together. The event connected to many memories and many firsts for the two of you. “I guess no one,” You say. “But what if he takes someone else?” Wheezie asked, and you turned to Sarah. “We need to find you a date,” She quickly said, and you nodded. “Wait— but aren’t you trying to get him back to get back at him? If you bring a date, wouldn’t that like piss Rafe off more?” Wheezie asked as you three headed towards Sarah’s bedroom. “Exactly. Haven’t you noticed Rafe likes things better when he can’t have them?” Sarah asked, and you nodded along, recalling the times Rafe’s determination to acquire things that were dangled before him but were just beyond reach.

“So, who would you take to Midsummers?” Sarah asked, “That’s an easy enough problem to solve; what I need now is something to wear for the party later,” You say and watch Wheezie and Sarah frown. “You’re going to that? You hate house parties.” Sarah frowned. “I do. But Rafe is going and it’s important for him to see that this whole ordeal is not at all affecting me,” You explained. “What? You’re going to flirt with other boys?” Wheez asked, and you smirked, “Duh,”

Rafe watched steely eyes as you sauntered into the room, taking the drink some dude handed to you and flashing him with a smile that had always been meant for Rafe. His fist clenched around his cup, effectively crushing the red solo cup as he watched you entertain the guys he had always kept a distance from you. His heart throbbing in his chest and his rage consuming him as you let one of them lead you towards the dance floor. Letting him stand behind you and let your bodies be flushed— letting him take Rafe’s place.

You gritted your teeth as Rafe made no move. He only stayed on his spot by the side with some girl from your school who had always been over him since he was in the third grade and you were in the second. But even then, even though you two were just children, you two had always been drawn to each other. You huffed as you felt the vile feeling rising in you as a random dude kept dancing against you, and Rafe made no move— at this point in time, you miss his violent jealousy that you used to frown upon.

You feel your heart still as your eyes locked with his. The silent language between you had gone mute and was now forgotten. Your heart clenched as he did nothing, only turned away from you and draped his arm around the shoulders of another girl. You staggered back as his actions stunned you and stung your heart. “Wanna get out of here?” The guy behind you dipped down and whispered in your ear, tugging at your hand. Your lips parted as you looked between him and Rafe, you waited a moment, willing him to turn around, but he didn’t. Is it really over now? You swallowed thickly and squared your shoulders, turning to the guy you were dancing with. “Yeah, sure,” You say meekly, and he grinned, pulling you away from the crowd and towards the bonfire lit by the shore.

Rafe felt appalled to have his arms around another girl, but he had these theatrics to get you back. He turned back his gaze to the dance floor, searching for your gaze and making sure that the guy you danced with did not step a foot beyond bounds. Rafe felt his heart fall out of his chest as he realized you were gone. He quickly removed his arm from the random girl beside him and searched for you. “Sarah, where is she? Did she go home? Tell me she went home alone.” Rafe asked as he saw Sarah with her boyfriend. “Who?” She asked, feigning innocence. “Don’t fucking play with me, where’s my fucking girlfriend?!” Rafe seethed, eyes franticly searching for you. “You don’t have a girlfriend, Rafe. You broke up with her, remember?” Sarah asked, enjoying the panic in her brother. Topper laughed beside her, and Rafe shook his head. “Fuck you two, you really do deserve each other,” Rafe gritted and headed towards the beach.

Rafe thought he had already uncovered every level of anger within him, but he was wrong. Nothing would compare to the rage he felt when he saw the guy you were dancing with holding you by your arms, trying to keep you still as you pushed him away as he tried to kiss your lips that were meant for Rafe. “Get the fuck away from her!” Rafe charged toward the guy and landed his fist on the guy’s jaw. Your eyes widened as Rafe suddenly appeared. You just stood there in shock, watching Rafe let out his rage on a guy who finally deserved it. It took a moment before your mind registered the severity of what was now happening; a crowd appeared and circled as Rafe and the guy fought. None even made a move to hinder them. You looked around and saw Kelce and Topper by your right, urging them to get Rafe, who was not at all phased by the crows that suddenly appeared. “You fucking force yourself on her! Fucking cunt!” Rafe screamed as his punches never missed his target. He was not at all tired of beating the guy who dared touch you, his mind not registering anything around him except the rage he felt.

You feel your heart drop as the distinct sound of a siren sounded out, the crowd that had gathered quickly dissolving, but the presence of authority did nothing to sedate and calm Rafe. He was relentless in punching the guy even though he was already on the brink of unconsciousness. “That’s enough! Go home!” The sheriff screamed, and two other officers pulled Rafe away from the bloodied and bruised body of the guy. “This was not supposed to happen,” You whisper to Sarah as they push Rafe against the cop car and handcuff his wrists. You found yourself being dropped off at the station to post bail and explain to the sheriff what had happened. “He was just defending me; that guy was forcing himself on me, and luckily, Rafe was there to stop him.” You explained and turned your gaze to Rafe, who was in holding, staring blankly at the wall, his jaw and fists still harshly clenched. “Well, he did more than stop him,” The sheriff muttered with a sigh. “He’s not pressing charges, so your little boyfriend’s free to go,” the sheriff added reluctantly. You nodded and quickly moved to go to Rafe, whose cell doors were being opened for him.

Tense silence surrounded the both of you as you stepped out of the station, and it followed the both of you until you reached Tanneyhill. You turned to Rafe, lips parting to speak, but he cut you off by placing his lips upon yours and cupping your cheeks with both of his battered hands. You melted at his touch, finally relenting and admitting to yourself that you had greatly missed him. When you two parted, you stared deeply into his eyes, deciphering clearly the thoughts he always struggled to word out. “You still love me,” You breathed out and felt your stomach twist as he nodded his head. “Of course I do,” He answered and kissed your lips once more. You wrapped your arms around him, your fingers lightly scratching his skull, his buzzcut hair prickling and tickling your soft palms. You feel him grip your ass once more, the telltale sign that warned you where this would lead. And though you missed feeling your body tangled with Rafe’s, you still needed answers. You were still deciding if your best-laid plans should be set on fire, skeptical that all of this was just his sleight of hand.

“Why’d you break up with me?” You asked, parting your lips. Watching as Rafe huffed and tried to kiss you again, but you turned away and urged him to answer. “I was being petty,” He mumbled, and you heard him groan as you frowned at him and removed your touch. “Baby, please,” He said as you stepped backward, your eyes narrowing at his words. “What?” You gritted. “Look, I’m sorry. It was a stupid decision. The guys were giving me shit about how you were always the one to call it off! I just… I wanted you to be the one to come to me and ask for me back…” Rafe trailed as he had no better word to explain his reasoning for breaking up with you. “You broke up with me because of your fucking pride!?” You almost screamed in anger. “I’m sorry, baby, please; I was so stupid.” Rafe sighed and tried to pull you to him; the big man he was had gone for the moment as his blue eyes pleaded with you.

You took in a deep breath and your senses were consumed by the smell of him. Your ears rang with the sound of his voice begging for your forgiveness. Your skin tingled by his touch. You breathed heavily and shook your head. “You’re so immature,” You sighed and pulled him down by his shirt to kiss his lips. Rafe smirked against your lips and savored the taste of you that he had longed for. “Am I forgiven?” He panted as you two parted; you stayed silent for a moment. Gazing at his eyes that were alight with hope. “Depends on how many times you make me come tonight,” You whispered against his lips, watching as his blue orbs turned dark. You shrieked as he hoisted you up and made you wrap your legs around him, hurriedly bringing you back to his room just to show you how truly apologetic he was.

You hummed in delight as Rafe sucked your tit, his other hand pinching the other bud. His body pushed you against the back of his bedroom door, and your hips moved to seek friction. “I missed you so much, baby,” Rafe groaned between the valley of your chest, biting and sucking your skin, leaving it red and most probably bruised. You bit your lip in anticipation as he tossed you on his bed. He watched you with a smirk as he removed his shirt, the moonlight illuminating his muscled body. “Like the view, my girl?” He asked and slowly crawled atop your body, his fingers finding the zipper of your dress, but he was slow to undo it. “Stop teasing, you’re still not forgiven,” You groaned as his hand was trailing the inside of your thigh. “Oh, right… I’m sorry, baby,” Rafe hummed once more and placed kisses on your neck as his hand cupped your cunt. His fingers draw circles on your cloth-covered nubbin, his lips peppering kisses on your neck.

You bit harshly on your lip as you pushed your underwear aside and finally felt the wetness he had caused. “So wet… you wanted me back as badly as I wanted you, huh, baby?” He hummed and watched as your eyes rolled back as he abruptly inserted his two fingers inside you, curling the digits and taking your breath away. “Rafe— I need you now,” You cried as his thumb laid flat on your nubbin. “Whatever you want, baby,” Rafe hummed and obliged your pleas. Stealing away his fingers and replacing them with his length. “God, so fucking tight," He grunted as he thrust into you. You could no longer hold in your moans as he pounded into you, the tip of his cock perfectly aligned with the spot in you that made you see stars and spew out moans that you were certain would be heard by those in the hallways. But you could not find care as Rafe fucked you senseless and made you reach your peak in record time.

You panted as you came down from your high. Your boyfriend is looking at you through his hazy, lust-filled eyes. “Am I forgiven?” He asked, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to lie on the bed and for you to be atop him. “Not yet.”

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thepromptswhisperer · 15 days

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Like A Moth To A Flame Prompts

“Let’s not imagine the worst, okay? For all we know right now, they could be harmless. A light bulb instead of a flame.”

“I’m not good for you.”

“I just want to be close to you. As close as you allow me to be.”

“Fuck. I’m so attracted to you right now.”

“No! I’m not doing this to myself again.”

“You’re my light.”

“I know I should stay away from you, but I can’t.”

“We both know you’ll be back for more.”

“You’re self-destructing.” “I’m enjoying the moment. Ever heard of that?”

“I can’t resist you.”

“Have you forgotten how it all ended last time?”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

“Why did you have to come back? Why? I was doing so well without you.”

“Stop looking at me.” “I can’t. And I don’t think you want me to either.”

“They don’t make me feel the way you do.”

“So? Guide me. Help me see.”

“I’m clearly not strong enough to leave you in the past. (So, you do it. Please. Leave. Set me free.)”

“You have too much power over me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. I will hurt you, [name].”

“I got burned one too many times.”

“The only thing left of our relationship, [name], is ash.”

“I can’t continue on giving you everything. I– I deserve more.”

“You’re dangerous.”

“I don’t want for this to end the same way it did last time.”

“You were always on my mind.”

“It’s… different. With them, I spent most of my time longing for something that wasn’t even accessible. With you, I simply feel alive.”

“I can’t seem to think straight around you.”

“I knew this would happen. I knew, and I still came back to you like the idiot that I am.”

“But what if we don’t burn alive? What if we just burn for each other? Isn’t that a possibility too?”

#writing prompts #writing inspiration #like a moth to a flame #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #relationship prompts #angst prompts #exes prompts #post breakup prompts #writing ideas #prompt list

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ladyempty · 1 month

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Yandere Maegor, Daemon and Aegon I reaction to Reader running away and marrying someone else and having children?? Please 😭😭

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. |

Aegon I

Aegon Targaryen I is the definition of a conqueror, courageous, intelligent and ambitious, with a friendly and captivating personality, easily lovable and admirable, but with few close friends. A certain air of enigma surrounded his figure, making people try to unravel him, attracted like moths by his light of monarchical dignity.

The king was comfortable and accustomed to sycophants, women dragging themselves for crumbs, or simply a single night in his bed. He was unfamiliar with something denied to him. He had "conqueror" in his name for a reason that went far beyond the submission of the other lords.

So it came as a complete shock when he was so bluntly denied when he approached you at one of the numerous banquets hosted by the royal family. At first, Aegon couldn't even process it, the features remained the same with a gentle smile and analyzing eyes and no words uttered. Like a person who was suddenly punched and in the first few seconds didn't understand or simply didn't know how to react. He just narrowed his purple eyes and watched you leave in an elegant bow.

The first time he was seriously denied, you hadn't done it to pique his interest, but rather to preserve your own honor, not wanting to be just another king's case knowing that he would return to Rhaenys at the end of the day. He admired this. If his plans were to push him away, you were not successful, you only made a dangerous obsession settle in your being.

He began to pursue you subtly, with gallant and courteous gestures, he urgently wanted to erase the first impression you had of him. Forcing the Targaryen to reveal his personality beyond the superficial, rambling for countless hours about some common interest and constantly summoning his presence, whether to read to him while I work or simply enjoy his warm presence.

And when his barriers were still not lowered, the king had to resort to more drastic measures, asking for her hand in marriage and making it clear that he would not accept being denied.

You would be softer when you were a wife and had duties towards him. The conqueror thought wrongly. Never in a thousand lifetimes did he expect you to run away. As soon as he found out, Aegon simply went crazy, the image made up of himself falling down the moment he threatened to destroy the entire seven kingdoms again if he didn't get you back.

Stone by stone, leaf by leaf. Everything was meticulously investigated by the countless guards spreading even through the most forgotten places by the gods. The Targaryen king became somewhat paranoid and easily irritated by his disappearance, not even Rhaenys could calm him down or change his mind. It was two years of pure torment.

Ah... When he finally found you in a small house in pentos... Married and obviously pregnant... It was like the world was open beneath your feet again. A loving feeling of betrayal. How dare you? Did you think that pathetic man could love you more than him?! How stupid.

He coldly killed her husband and none of her tears and pleas could change his mind. His heart was partially darkened by his betrayal. He won't forget anytime soon, you'll have to regain his trust to have the slightest amount of freedom. Countless guards will follow you closely, if you are even allowed to leave your quarters.

And your son? Don't worry, Aegon will assume paternity of the child even if it comes with rumors about having deflowered you before the wedding. It didn't matter. He just wouldn't let you mother a bastard or have that other man as a part of your life. Aenys was his heir anyway.

Maegor, The Cruel

You were certainly a very unlucky person to have caught the attention of the Targaryen king who was called cruel. You probably met at an event organized by him to celebrate one of his conquests, reaffirming his power and sovereignty as king, or you were one of his wives' ladies-in-waiting.

Whether you were from a big house, small house or even a commoner. It didn't matter. You were his the moment the king laid eyes on your enchanting figure.

Maegor was a man of few feelings, he didn't truly love any of his wives, it was lust mixed with the rational thought of creating heirs. But you were different, there was something special that made Maegor feel a bubbling sensation in his chest, a pleasant and addictive warmth like he had never felt before. It was something unfamiliar, one that he felt slightly hesitant to demonstrate or how to handle. But he just knew he wanted you and he would have you. At any cost.

Maegor was far from the definition of courteous, he knew little about the gallant arts or gentle love. Therefore, he had little knowledge about the courtship, the little he knew was from his mother's advice, who only knew about these things from the poets who surrounded Rhaenys.

Either way, he is not discreet. He doesn't even make an effort to appear less intimidating than he is. His eyes are fixed on you no matter the moment, his intimidating and darkening presence looming over you like a shadow. Once he even gave him a white fur coat, an animal he himself killed. It was his way of showing his interest. Something raw and rustic, without words, just proves to be worthy of you.

Either way, he wouldn't wait long. The moment he gets tired of waiting and the itch that grows in him is not relieved, he will attack. Demanding her hand in marriage from her, leaving no room for disagreement. He didn't expect you to run away in the middle of the night... Stupid little bird. Did you think he wouldn't come after you?

The man flew into a rage the moment he found out, destroying everything and everyone in his path, no matter if they were his wives, servants or important masters. Everyone should pay for his blinding rage. He turned the seven kingdoms into hell looking for you. A thick layer of blood, smoke, ash and corpse covering every corner of the kingdom.

And when he found you... Ah, dumb little bird, did he think he could hide for another year? Never.

He killed her husband the moment he saw the man, not even bothering to give him a painful death to pay for his crimes. He was as furious as a bull at the sight of any trace of red. He never thought about seriously hurting you, but he would have to punish you in a certain way to put you in your place. But his angry thoughts strayed the moment he caught sight of her swollen belly with a child.

A baby, that could and should be his. It was someone else's... It was an unforgivable betrayal. He could never fully forgive you. He would never forget or leave you alone for even a second.

He wouldn't kill the child, he would keep you away until you gave birth and then pretend that the child belonged to his lady-in-waiting, even if it was his child behind closed doors. It was a good way to keep tabs on you. Do you love your child? So better obey, you don't want something bad to happen, right?

Do not worry, dear. If you want to be a mother and wife so much, who would Maegor be to deny you that? You would be two things very soon.

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon was never a man to love madly, he fell in love a few times. He rolled from bed to bed without a fixed commitment, just looking for momentary fun and vague pleasures. He indulged in his desires without shame. Bad luck for you to have been so captivating. He was hooked on you the moment their eyes met his.

Any slight affection he ever had for other women and men was forgotten. For you he felt love. Real love that went beyond lust. After all, he had never touched you intimately and he already had such overwhelming feelings.What was it if not love? You were his only thought.The first thought when waking up and the last when going to bed.

And Daemon had no intention of hiding his affection. His hands constantly find their way to your shoulders or start from your waist, a touch that lingers on a simple handshake and a look so intense that it would make anyone else tremble in fear.

As expected, rumors were created questioning his honor and how terrible the prince was. When his father went to confront him, Daemon just smiled mischievously and just said he would marry you. To everyone's great surprise, after all, the Targaryen had demonstrated his unhappiness during his first marriage.

But you weren't like that woman uglier than a sheep. You were perfect in every aspect and in the very definition of the word. Something to be admired every day.

It was a strong, stunning blow when you disappeared during the night, your maids only finding cold, wrinkled sheets when they went to wake you up that morning.

Where in the seven hell were you? He would find you... You couldn't run away.

He destroyed, killed, tortured and threatened. He spent days flying with Caraxes to every corner of the seven kingdoms just to find you. Unsuccessfully. A long year without having your favorite addiction... You.

He drowned himself in e wine while you were gone, nursing a bubbling rage and constantly exploding at everyone, scaring even Viserys, who thought he had seen the worst side of his brother.

But nothing lasts forever. He found you. He invaded your home in Essos without hesitation. He didn't kill your husband at first because his stunned mind simply refused to understand that you had betrayed him in such a disgusting way.

But the moment she saw the little newborn baby in her arms. He understood everything.The black sister ran through her pathetic husband without mercy, blood spatter staining his robes in small crimson droplets.The cold, darkened eyes like never before were directed at you.

For a moment you feared for the baby's life, placing the small bundle against your chest to protect it.

"Don't worry, I would never hurt our son." He smiles as he says each word slowly. He would legitimize that child as his and didn't care what he would say. A good way to keep you behaved and not tarnish his bloodline with bastards. Obviously he would love his own children more with you, but he wouldn't show it so openly. You're lucky the child looks so much like you…

#yandere x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #Yandere Maegor Targaryen #maegor Targaryen x reader #aegon the conqueror #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryan #Aegon the conqueror x Reader

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woniverse-writes · 9 months

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"MOTH TO A FLAME (part 1)"

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

part 1 ⟶ part 1.5

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 9k (holy shit)

warnings: swearing, reader is described as cute and small a lot, Bada is kinda confusing with her feelings, also this isn't proofread so... sorry for any mistakes lol- lemme know if I missed anything!

“I think Jam Republic is finally coming out-” someone states and the excited conversations start to fill up the studio. Jam Republic walks into the fight zone for their first introduction and they're all just very happy to be there. All the girls are smiling but Audrey and y/n have the biggest smiles on their faces out of anyone. Everyone is commenting on how pretty they are and how their smiles are so precious

“Wow, Audrey is like a doll! So pretty…” Tatter is outwardly in awe of the girls, much like some of her other teammates. But their leader, even though she agreed, was trying to keep the girls’ confidence up.

“True, but we’re prettier” she replied in a motherly tone and patted the blonde girl's head, causing them all to smile and giggle. Minah notices Jam Republic approaching the area they’re seated in, and shares a mischievous look with Lusher, before adding to the conversation-

“Y/n’s like a princess though. No one’s beating that” she states matter-of-factly, anticipating her leader’s response. Bada opens her mouth to say something but right as she’s about to speak, she and y/n make eye contact. Y/n smiles even bigger than she already is, eyes twinkling, and she bows politely greeting team Bebe. Bada is lowkey rendered speechless because she’s pretty sure she just saw an angel.

“Oh- h-hello” she struggles to speak and immediately after y/n turns away, Bada is grimacing and covering her face out of embarrassment, her teammates now laughing at her distress. She tries to laugh it off and put on a smile because of all the cameras around- she just really hopes they didn’t catch that and it won’t be aired.

As Jam Republic continues to stride across the stage, past all the other crews, getting a feel for the room, they finally settle in the middle- waiting for their video to be played. Audrey and Y/n are holding hands and giggling excitedly, while the rest of their team shares similar smiles and affectionate chuckles towards their youngest members.

Then the review video plays…

“I think they all want to be the main character- how are they ever gonna work together?” Y/n can’t help but huff out a laugh of disbelief, but she’s not quite angry yet. She felt a little twinge of annoyance but other than that, she thought it was kind of funny.

“I’m gonna steal the spotlight from you” Audret whispered sarcastically, bumping her shoulder, causing y/n to laugh. They were smiling and giggling again… until the others started targeting her and Audrey.

“They’re like babies- I don’t think they’ll have any real skill.” All the members are just nodding and keeping their composure, with light smiles, except for y/n. Her smile has dropped into a frown and her brows are furrowed as she tries to understand how these people could so willingly make assumptions about them. And it only kept getting worse-

As their individual dance clips started to play y/n could already feel the tension inside her start to rising. After Kirsten, Ling, Latrice, and Emma’s clips all played- Y/n’s was next. It was a somewhat recent clip of her dancing to “Basics” by TWICE, where she’s got her signature bright smile, and is bouncing around, just enjoying the choreography. She loves that choreo and has always been proud of it because it was fun, so her smile started to come back a little while watching it. She tried ignoring everyone’s words, and for the most part, it worked, but she was still able to hear-

“Isn’t this too juvenile? She doesn’t seem competitive at all.”

And if there’s one thing y/n hates- it’s people doubting her passion. She’s always been very dedicated to dance, but she also learned how to have fun and enjoy it, while still working hard to always be improving. But to be honest, it didn’t upset her too much because she never really cared what people’s opinions were on her- as long as she was happy, healthy, and kind y/n couldn’t care less what people thought. Unless it was about someone she cares about, then that’s when problems arise.

Audrey’s video played right after y/n’s and even though the older girl was keeping it together and even sporting a small smile, the same could not be said for her teammate. Y/n listened to everyone laugh and jeer at her friend, and she felt genuine violence start to bubble inside her. How dare they laugh at her? Who do they think they are? She clenched her jaw and felt any bit of respect she had for these people leave her body. Y/n was already over this shit.

“I think they’re pretty dancers, but that’s it- they’re just pretty dancers.” The other teams ‘ooh’ at this and letter other noises of enablement. By now Y/n’s face has totally dropped, and there’s no expression besides a deadly look in her eyes. While everyone else is brushing it off with some laughs, especially Audrey, y/n can't help but feel her anger fully ignite into a blazing fire. Their video came to an end and while others applauded respectfully, y/n stood there- arms crossed with her head tilted slightly, a stone-cold expression overtaking her face.

"Oh my god- y/n is the only one not smiling anymore" Akanen pointed out from Tsubakill’s side of the room. To which Rena gasped and replied “Eh?! Oh no! She looks so upset!” and the others all focused solely on her. other teams seem to be thinking similarly.

"Audrey is laughing about it like it's nothing and y/n looks like she's about to kill everyone who picked her as the worst dancer…" Mina Myoung jokes, laughing at the young girl. Some of her members laughed with her, while others just observed with cautious eyes. They didn’t want to accidentally make eye contact with Jam Republic’s seemingly small but mighty dancer.

"From everything I've seen of Y/n, I never thought I'd see her without a smile- more importantly I never thought I'd see her look that angry" Harimu gasps, gripping Redy’s shoulders, pulling herself to hide behind her slightly. Peaking over Redy’s shoulder, she listens to the older girl reply in a tone just as fearful as her own. "I didn't even think she'd be able to make such a scary face" Redy laughs but trembles a little.

"Oh my- wow, she looks so much older with that look on her face…" Funky Y openly expresses how baffled she is to her crew, with wide eyes and mouth slightly dropped open. Yoonji replies quickly in a frantic tone

"Like she's not a baby anymore, suddenly she became a Lion" she animatedly expressed with a growl after to prove her point. And her members can’t help but huff out a few laughs and roll their eyes at her antics. But still- even as they joke around, all are still weary of how y/n will act now.

All of the dancers quickly took notice of y/n’s 180 switch in vibe, and couldn’t help their conversations- some frantic, some laughing and continuing their degrading energy that got her all worked up in the first place, some fearful… and then there was Bebe.

"Woooah… what happened to cutie y/n? She's scary now-" Bada marvels at the small girl standing at the back of her team, with her arms crossed. She really was just as confused as everyone else on how y/n could go from being this darling princess with a dazzling smile and sparkly eyes- to this ice-cold girl who might start calling people out by names soon if she gets pushed any further.

Bada’s teammates look at her, and some nod, while Tatter holds back a laugh, mumbling her leader’s words to herself,

“Cutie…” Minah and Lusher hear her and start giggling, causing Tatter to start giggling as well. Bada doesn’t seem to hear them- that or she just pretends not to, cuz she sits there, unbothered, leaning her elbows on her knees, observing the scene before her with a barely-there smirk.

y/n continues to glare at the screen ahead of her and tries to contain her rage. Latrice puts a gentle hand on her shoulder and y/n just nods her head, poking her inner cheek with her tongue, trying her best not to say something that will definitely get her kicked off the show. Audrey sees how furious her bestie is and turns to poke her cheek playfully, of course with a smile still on her face

"heyyyy, don't stress. It's okay!" she puts an arm around the younger girl's shoulders and continues

"Plus this is just another great opportunity to show everyone what we've got!" and of course, Audrey, ever the optimist, successfully calms her down. y/n sighs and leans into the taller girl.

"I know, I just hate how almost all of them think we suck just cuz we're young."

"well they also think we suck cuz we're pretty" And Basically everyone watching is like- "Aw they're still cuties, even though y/n can be scary".

Bada can't help but laugh at them, specifically y/n

"She's pouting now. Cute." She chuckles softly with a small smile on her face, as she sits, elbows resting on her knees, with her hands clasped. Lusher can't help but side-eye her leader and chuckle as well but for a different reason

"Bada, you seem a little too interested in her" She snaps out of whatever daze she was in, sitting straight up and looking over at Lusher for a second, before turning to look back at the front where Jam Republic is now exiting

"I'm interested in a lot of people here." she explains cooly, surveying the room

"Not true-" Tatter leans over from the other side of Bada to look her right in the eyes "We can all tell you haven't found a single person here interesting, until her- or at least her team."

____________

"She looks kind of scary now…" Yoonji whispers to her teammates looking at y/n. Redlic looks in the direction Yoonji is looking at and laughs a little.

"What're you talking about? y/n? She looks like a kitten trying to be a lion." Now the rest of ManneQueen is staring at Jam Republic, specifically y/n l/n. And sure enough, instead of her usual bright and smiling self, her eyes were back to being fiery and to put it bluntly, she looks pissed the fuck off again. Waackxxy was the one to turn to Redlic and go-

“No, she’s definitely got something fierce going on right now… I hope she has a lot of battle cuz I’m kind of interested in her now…” causing the rest of her team to laugh and agree. On the other side, Jam Republic is having their own discussion regarding y/n.

“I think you should just wait and see- maybe no one will even pick you as a “no respect” dancer!” Ling tried cheering up her younger teammate.

“No I want someone to battle me- I want everyone who voted for me and Audrey to come and try us” y/n fired back with her arms crossed as she leaned back into her chair. She really did look intimidating, especially with her makeup and hair done. Audrey on the other hand was not feeling the same fire-

“Uhm, maybe we don’t need everyone to want to battle us…maybe just a few.” Audrey started to reason,

”Cuz I don’t know if you remember, but there were a LOT of people that voted for us as the worst dancers…” which caused Kirsten and Ling to sigh, and y/n to roll her eyes and clench her jaw.

“Audrey, my love, I’m very well aware of how many people think we suck-“

“You don’t suck-”

“Thank you Emma, but please give me a second”

“Y/n take a deep breath and check your well-being”

She sighed at their team leader’s advice, knowing it was to help her out and so that she didn’t get too fired up with her teammates. It’s not that y/n doesn’t get along with them- it’s the furthest thing from that, she adores her teammates- but she gets very passionate about everything, and she’s a bit of a hothead. On top of all that, y/n is very protective of those she cares about, some of those people being her dear teammates.

“I’m sorry” she mumbles a bit, but ultimately huffs out the response. To which Kirsten replies with a motherly “thank you”, causing the others to chuckle.

“I just don’t understand how they can all collectively make the assumption that we’re not as good as them- for what? Why? Because we’re foreigners? Because we smile a lot? Because we’re pretty? To me THAT just sounds like jealousy” y/n continues to rant, frantically moving her hands and arms about, expressing her frustration- and her team just listens patiently for her to finish. Once she finally lets out her final huff and relaxes back into her chair with her arms crossed again, and a pout now sporting her face, her teammates can’t help but smile gently at their youngest member- some even trying to hide giggles and chuckles of endearment.

“Y/n, sweetheart, you’ve gotta remember- not everyone thinks like you- I wish they did, but they just don’t” Kirsten starts to comfort her, and places a hand on her head, trying her best to calm down the passionate young girl.

Kirsten always felt like asking y/n to join her team was one of the best choices she made in regards to being a leader. She knew the younger girl had experience in kpop dance styles, having performed at multiple k-con stages and doing countless covers from other groups, even choreographing her own routines to kpop songs for fun and still getting the attention of the original artist. Kirsten also saw an unlimited amount of potential in y/n and saw how quickly and easily she absorbed everything around her. The only thing she was worried about was how young she was. it wasn’t a huge concern to her since their whole team was pretty young, but when it came down to it, Kirsten ended up adding Audrey in as well, and the two hit it off right away! To be completely honest- Kirsten felt as if the three youngest members were her babies. Audrey being the sweet angel of a golden child, Emma being the responsible oldest, and y/n being the chaotic troublemaker who’s always trying to pick a fight with someone for hurting her sisters.

“You just need to remember that we’re here to dance, have fun, and gain a new experience… alright?” Kirsten has successfully reduced her gremlin child to a less angry (but still very pouty) version of herself.

“…alright” y/n mumbled.

“Thank you. Now please stop pouting, you look like a kicked puppy and the others will probably start picking on you soon” Kirsten teased lightly, which caused Audrey to join in and start poking y/n’s cheek, leading to Emma tugging gently on her hair, and Ling poking her other cheek, all while Latrice coos at her and pats her head. This all of course causes her to start whining and complaining playfully at her members teasing.

But the endearment for each other doesn’t end outside of the members' little cluster. the love for Jam Republic, and specifically y/n, has now spread to the entire studio. as everyone originally took notice of the youngest member’s slight temper tantrum, most didn’t really know what she was ranting about, but they could tell she was once again not happy at all. The two teams sitting nearest to Jam Republic happened to be Bebe and 1Million, who originally both had members that intended to battle y/n, but after hearing her rant, some opinions changed.

“I like her style! She’s very passionate” Harimu laughed as she explained her newfound interest in Jam Republic’s youngest.

“That’s what I was thinking- I don’t even wanna battle her anymore, especially after how scary she looked before- I just wanna watch her tear up the stage with all her energy” Redy chimed in.

“Do you think we should go up to her during break and try to become friends?” They begin to laugh and joke around about their shared interest in y/n. But their team’s older members aren’t quite on the same level of endearment.

“Ya- you two should be trying to take her down before befriending her, don’t you think?” Lia warns the two girls, who just look at each other and start giggling.

“I don’t know if I’d necessarily wanna go up against someone with her temper” Redy starts off jokingly, but Harimu is already coming back in a teasing mood-

“Yeah cuz you’d probably cry.” Which has Redy letting a gasp- her jaw dropped to the floor, eyes wide with shock and (false) betrayal.

The other team seated next to Jam Republic isn’t as chipper as 1 Million though, as their leader is trying to convince her team to stick with their guts.

“You wanted to battle her at first for a reason- why would that reason change if you still haven’t seen her dance?” Bada asks Kyma, Sowoen, and Minah. They all voted y/n as the worst dancer because her style was too “pretty” and they thought she relied on having cute expressions. Bada didn’t entirely agree with her teammates, but everyone is entitled to their own opinion. She even originally stated how she thought y/n’s style was refreshing and youthful, but she was worried about how she’d be with darker concepts.

“Well- I mean- she seems kinda crazy…” Cheche halfheartedly joked, but in reality, she was being completely serious.

“Why? Because she’s angry? She should be angry. Being voted as the worst dancer isn’t something to be happy about…” Bada replies calmly. No one really says anything, as they all are just trying to process whether or not their leader is provoking them, or if she’s defending their opponent because she thinks she’s cute.

Bada sighs and stands up to stretch. She wants her team to not only be amazing dancers, but critical thinkers too. Of course, Bada wants a win, but she also wants her team to be strong- and if going up against someone with untouchable morale and endless energy will force her teammates to be stronger, then that’s what they need to do.

She also may or may not be personally interested in seeing what y/n is made of. After all, she caught her attention originally with her bright smile and explosive personality- then again shortly after with how serious and intimidating she gets when people question her abilities. Bada thought her bold expressions and reactions to things were an endearing contrast from her cute or refreshing facials used when dancing. So now having seen y/n in stark opposition, she’s even more interested.

They all finish up introductions and meet the judges, then are sent off to get changed and prepare for the battles that are about to ensue. Jam Republic’s hideout is full of conversation from the second they enter the room.

“Well besides y/n almost setting the place on fire, I think that went well!” Ling chirps, smiling in faux satisfaction at her teammates, who let out variations of laughs.

“I can’t believe they think so lowly of us” Audrey finally expresses her disappointment, sharing a kicked puppy look with y/n, who longer feels angry, just tired. The younger of the two just leans her head on her friend's shoulder and stays quiet.

“I know, but that’s exactly why we’re gonna go out there and show every single one of them how wrong they were, right?” Kirsten encourages with her once again motherly tone and warm smile.

Bebe’s hideout conversations on the other hand are going quite a bit differently than Jam Republic’s…

“So moral of the story: I’m scared of a five-foot-nothing, angel-faced, baby who may or may not have the ability to shoot lasers out of her eyes.”

“Minah, what the fuck are you even saying right now-” Tatter sits and stares at her teammate with a concerned look. Minah and Kyma have been going back and forth since they got back about how they regret picking y/n as their no-respect dancer already, because of how quickly and drastically her personality changed when she got upset.

“I’m just saying- I feel like if I looked her in the eyes at that moment, I would've died.” Minah replies dramatically, and Kyma nods her head enthusiastically in agreeance. Bada huffs out a laugh and rolls her eyes at the two members’ antics.

“You do realize she’s still just a kid, right? You have nothing to worry about. Even if she does look scary, she’s probably all bark and no bite” Bada smirks slightly and leans back comfortably on the couch in their space.

“Weren’t you just saying how cute she was?” Lusher side-eyes her as she questions.

“Yes, and? That’s exactly my point. She’s too cute, so there’s no way she’d actually be able to go through with whatever she looked like she could've done.” Bada reasons, shrugging. Everyone just sighs and new conversations arise.

After all the teams have finished preparing, they all head back down to the main studio and take their seats again. The judges are all prepared and after a slight re-introduction by Daniel, the host, the battles are set to begin.

Bada being part of the first battle of the season was definitely necessary, and her win practically secured her spot as the best dancer involved in the program.

Everyone was hyped especially the members of Jam Republic, who were all just very happy to be there- even y/n, who had managed to calm down from her original state of rage, and now she’s back to her excited, vibrant self, of course wearing a giant smile. The girls all cheered and at some point (she doesn’t know when) y/n ended up clinging to Emma with wide eyes and jaw dropped. After Bada finished everyone obviously went crazy with an uproar of applause, but y/n could only let out a few claps, as she was still shell-shocked. Ling glanced at her teammate and started laughing

“Did you enjoy that y/n?” Y/n, still in a daze, puts the back of her hand on her cheek, then her forehead

“My face feels so hot right now”

“Oh my god y/n! You’re like- actually a tomato!!” Kirsten noticed her youngest dancer’s flustered state and couldn’t help but bring attention to it. With all her teammates' eyes on her now, they giggle as she starts whining and covering her face, collapsing into a ball on the floor. She looks up at Ling, who gently pats her head, and goes

“I don’t think I’m gonna survive this” sending all of her members into a fit of laughter over their youngest dancer’s uncontrollable admiration.

“The way she got up in Redy’s face- UGH I WOULD’VE DIED” she continues fangirling, catching the attention of a few of the other dancers- specifically from Bebe. Lusher is the first to glance sideways at y/n with wide eyes and a hidden smile- she’ll have to tell Bada about it afterward.

When it’s revealed that Bada won, y/n just about flew twelve feet in the air, that’s how high she jumped. Bada acted coolly and honestly pretty cold toward Redy, but the second she made eye contact with y/n, she smiled charmingly causing the already flustered girl to smile even brighter. She sits back down with her crew and Lusher leans over to whisper in her ear,

“I think y/n really likes you” she teases, causing Bada to roll her eyes and glare.

“Enough…” the older girl warns playfully, in tow causing Lusher to raise her hands in defense.

“Alright, fine- but just know she really enjoyed your performance.” and the conversation ended there.

During Kirsten’s battle with Waackxxy, the members of Jam Republic are once again hyped up, but this time- it’s tenfold.

Y/n is standing on top of the front row of their team’s bleachers, jumping up and down so much that at one point she nearly slips. Emma and Audrey are of course both there to keep her out of trouble (like always) and they all make eye contact before bursting out laughing

From across the room- Bada is pretty much just as invested as they are. Except she’s a little more focused on one of the members who ISN’T currently dancing. She of course paid attention to Kirsten’s battle and was genuinely blown away by her style- But Bada couldn’t help but get distracted by the small girl a little bit behind her, screaming and jumping like her life depended on it. She tried not to smile or laugh at y/n’s antics but she couldn’t help it when she almost fell off the bleachers. At first- when she watched her slip, Bada felt herself tense up, almost as if her instant reaction was to reach out and try to catch her from across the room. But once she realized y/n was alright (and that she’d have been fine had she fallen from the short height) she shook her head laughed, but more at herself for feeling so protective of this girl she hadn’t even spoken to yet.

Shortly after Kirsten’s first battle, Audrey has hers- Which means, y/n is about to be at her peak of hype woman realness. When Audrey's name is called, y/n shoots straight up and gets right to hyping her best friend up. She’s smiling and rubbing her shoulders and shaking her around a bit to show her excitement, and finally, the two do their signature handshake that they’ve done before every performance together since they became friends

Bada again watched from the opposite side, and she couldn’t help but feel extra critical while watching Audrey. There was nothing wrong with Audrey’s dancing! In fact- Bada was thoroughly impressed, (but she wishes she wasn’t). Instead of catching y/n’s reactions, this time she was totally focused on the dancers- Bada was curious as to what made y/n so defensive of Audrey, and now she understands a little better. That doesn’t ease her feelings of discomfort though, especially as the battle comes to an end and she watches y/n pounce on Audrey the second the timer runs out. What frustrated her even more was how quickly she became self-aware in that moment. Wait- why do I care so much? She was asking herself as her eyes darted to the floor.

And when she was announced the winner, Bada applauded and cheered, but again felt bitter seeing Jam’s Republic’s two youngest members be cute together. Now all Bada can focus on is why she herself is so bothered by y/n clinging to her teammate, and smiling like Audrey just won the Olympics.

“She seems like a really clingy person” Bebe members all look at Bada and then follow her line of sight to Audrey and y/n- or rather y/n sticking to Audrey and congratulating her. Lusher is the first to speak up again,

“Audrey?” she questions, peaking over at Bada in confusion, whose eyes are fixed back on y/n.

“No, y/n”

“Oh, of course”

Lusher’s response is sarcastic and causes the others to laugh lightly at the sub-leader’s attitude towards their oldest member. Bada once again has no reaction as she’s too focused on y/n smiling angelically, celebrating Jam Republic’s win.

“Omg please don’t tell me you’re already jealous” Sewoen teased and Tatter laughed hysterically. Bada raised her eyebrows and finally turned to look at the girls.

“Me? What would I be jealous of?” she pouts slightly when she talks. Even though she seems all tough, and tall, and cold- only one of those things is true. Bada is really a big softie- a baby angel trapped in a 5’9 body. Her teammates know this all too well as they halt their teasing for a moment to admire their cute leader. But that obviously doesn’t last forever.

“Bada-” Lusher tilts her head, exasperated. She stares at the older girl for a few seconds in disbelief, before letting out a huff of a laugh again. Bada’s eyes just widen as she looks around at her team- she really is confused, because while yes- she is starting to realize she may have a genuine crush on y/n, Bada thought she was doing a pretty good job at hiding it!

“What?? I’m serious- I'm not jealous of anyone” She tries to laugh it off and move on but the only reaction she gets is a few side-eyes from the other members. So she lets out a sigh and hangs her head in embarrassment.

“Let’s just leave it please” She smiles timidly, and THIS causes the other girls to laugh.

Many more battles occur before it’s finally Y/n’s chance to dance. When she’s called up to pick her no-respect dancer, y/n smiles brightly and walks to the center.

"So I actually have a lot of respect for this dancer, and I kind of selfishly chose her for the opportunity to share the stage with her and feed off her energy…" she starts, making sure to survey the whole room before eyes finally land on Bebe

"No way she's gonna pick Bada", "is y/n really about to pick Bada???", "Ya, she must be insane" excited murmurs fill the studio as everyone anticipates her pick.

Bada tries to keep her expression neutral, but she can't help how her eyes widen when she makes eye contact with the young dancer standing in front of her crew. Bada thinks y/n looks cute holding the mic with both hands, poking her tongue out and smiling nervously.

Y/n takes a deep breath and walks slowly toward the team she's been eyeing up

"For my no respect dancer, I'd like to battle Bebe's…" It feels like everyone is holding their breath. Y/n holds eye contact with Bada but breaks it with a nod

"Lusher"

Everyone goes crazy, even Lusher herself- She stands up and bows, smiling brightly, and as she starts to descend the bleachers they're sat in, she turns to Bada with wide eyes and whispers-

"I for sure thought she was gonna be calling your name…" she started seriously

"Hm… guess not yet" she teases her leader and Bada shoves her away

"Ya, go dance or something" she mumbles, already exhausted from dealing with the teasing of her members. Lusher meets Y/n halfway and actually reaches out to shake her hand, to which a nervous Y/n excitedly and politely bows and shakes her hand

"Good luck" Lusher smiles gently and y/n's eyes twinkle a little more at the kindness

"Thank you so much, you too!" and then they're separating and heading back to their sides to start the battle. Bada can't help but roll her eyes at her younger teammate, because while she's appreciative of the good sportsmanship, she knows it's really just to tease her more. Once Lusher heads back to Bebe’s side, Bada is behind her with a hand on her shoulder, talking calmly and softly.

"You know this is a cutthroat competition right? You're not supposed to be nice to your opponent- especially since she chose you as her "no respect" dancer-" Bada begins firmly

"Bada, did you listen to a word she said before? Or did you block it all out after you realized she wasn't talking about you?" Tatter laughed, once again taking the opportunity to tease the group leader

On the other side, Jam Republic is also teasing their group member

"I for sure thought you were gonna pick Bada" Latrice stated, massaging y/n's shoulders, shaking her around a bit to keep her energy up. She didn't say anything, just laughed and rolled her eyes. Noticing the lack of reaction, Ling reaches over and pinches her cheek-

"Are you kidding, y/n would probably forget how to breathe if she had to go up against Bada" causing them all to burst out laughing, including the youngest. She moves out of they're teasing reach and steps onto the dance floor. Daniel introduces the two again and allows them to do their little speeches before the battle actually starts. Y/n goes first and she has that same nervous smile back on her face, but her eyes still twinkle with excitement

"As much as I do respect you, I apologize because I'm still going to compete and perform like I don't" she finishes, trying to seem cool, but she ends up giggling a little. Everyone obviously loses their shit and starts screaming, and even Lusher is clapping and nodding with approval

"Y/n-ya" Everyone's eyes widen, especially Y/n's, as they anticipate Lusher's comeback

"I appreciate your admiration, but there won't be any sharing of the stage, cuz it's all mine" and cue the 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the other dancers, and y/n just smiles and nods. They turn over their mics and prepare for the music to start

"First up- Bebe! LUSHEEEEER" Daniel shouts out and the music comes in as everyone cheers. She starts with some smooth groves and then hits all the accents once the beat drops. Y/n just felt happy to be there, face scrunched up showing how impressed she is with her opponent's moves. Bada tried to solely focus on Lusher, but she couldn’t help but eye up the opposing dancer. and if anyone happened to notice and ask her about it, Bada would just tell them that she was inspecting the competition for the sake of her team…

As Lusher's time runs out, she finishes off strong by getting in y/n's face and ruffling the shorter girl's hair while smirking, causing her to giggle and poke the inside of her cheek with her tongue. She nodded as Daniel announced the switch, and she anticipated everyone's reactions

CL's "Tie a Cherry" starts playing from the pre-chorus and everyone gets even more hyped- some were jumping around and screaming, some grabbed onto their hair, some just had wide eyes and jaw dropped. Lusher stood similar to the last group- eyes wide and jaw dropped to the floor, but she still smiled and laughed in astonishment. Y/n smiled coolly and nodded her head to the beat before bouncing to get into the feel. She does a quick spin around and her vibe has completely changed again-

Everyone notices the different look in her eyes and they all start fangirling amongst themselves again, expressing how excited they are to see her dance. Lusher stands back and watches, amused and somewhat proud, like she's just got herself a new friend- a friend that challenges her by picking a song that she already danced to with the artist.

Bada on the other hand is trying to control her emotions and reactions again- standing behind with the rest of her team, hand covering her mouth, brows furrowed. She's stressing rn, but not because she's scared that Lusher will lose (frankly, she could care less about that) but rather because she doesn't know how she's gonna last a whole season of watching y/n dance without reacting in the most obvious ways possible- especially since she has a reputation to uphold. Now- Bada has never really cared about that type of stuff, she's chill and doesn't really care whether or not people think she's cool. But this- this feeling she gets while watching y/n dance- is a whole new level of uncool. To be completely honest- Bada feels pathetic.

y/n's been hitting every beat, leaving it all out on the floor- her movements are explosive and captivating. So much so, that certain viewers are mesmerized even by the smallest aspects of her performance that she doesn't even have control over.

"Woooow… how does her hair just perfectly fall into place…" Bada's mesmerized voice doesn't fit in with the chaotic energy and screams, so it catches the attention of Tatter, who looks over to see a dazed leader with a slight blush painted on her cheeks, and she bursts out laughing.

"Bada… you need to pull yourself together" she laughs. but right as she finishes her sentence and looks back to watch the rest of the dance, the iconic "razzi shots" line occurs and y/n handles it perfectly.

Right as the "razzi shots" line is played through the speaker, y/n's whole body reacts as if electrified- her articulation is so on point that the final hit of her movement mixed with her unmatched expression sends everyone spiraling into a frenzy. And it only got worse as her next movements were smooth, yet articulated combinations of body rolls and hip swivels, leaving everyone with jaws dropped. No one expected the cute, sometimes fiery, girl to have such an alluring, sexy side to her. Especially Bada, who is now fumbling between covering her eyes and her mouth cuz she's so flustered she doesn't know what to do. And the fact that she doesn't understand why she's feeling this way is making her even more flustered.

Y/n's time is about to run out as she slides onto the ground, and with a flip of her hair, she hits a sexy pose that's all tied together with a seductive smile. The applause are the loudest they’ve been so far, everyone is beyond baffled after watching her perform. She stays in her pose for a second, basking in the attention, and to make it even better she daintily bites her finger and puts on a cute-clueless kind of sexy facade. As if she didn’t just completely destroy everyone’s expectations of her.

After a couple of seconds of holding her pose, she laughs at herself and stands up, first bowing to Lusher, then turning to the audience on her side and bowing- which causes another uproar. Y/n’s brilliant smile is back and she can’t help but clap her hands and cheer with everyone else. The sweet girl who loves to perform was back and she was once again just happy to be there.

The time comes for the judges to decide the winner and in a clean sweep, 3-0, y/n takes the win. Everyone cheers, and y/n comes running up to Lusher to shake her hand again, but Lusher pulls her into a hug instead before pulling back and holding onto the smaller girl's shoulders.

"You're literally so amazing- I was totally joking before, let's share the stage all the time" Lusher jokes around, a genuine smile on her face, but still a teasing lilt in her voice.

"Oh so now you wanna share cuz I won?" y/n teases back, causing Lusher to laugh and shove her shoulder gently, the two girls smiling and giggling together.

"You wish that was you, huh?" Tatter whispers to Bada as they watch from their seats. Bada just turns to look at her with the most fed-up look, causing the blonde to let out a snort of a laugh. As Lusher strides back over to Bebe’s side, she’s smiling still as she looks at her team and shrugs her shoulders. They all hurry to pat her on the back and tell her how well she did, no matter the outcome.

“Y/n is no joke, you guys should be scared to challenge her for sure now.” She looks specifically at the three who had picked her as their no-respect dancer. Causing them all to sigh and chuckle a little in defeat.

“It’s okay- we’re stronger. We have to be.” They all turn to look at their leader in disbelief. They've all noticed how she’s been acting toward y/n, and find it hard to believe Bada actually thinks they could beat her- shit they would even agree that Bada doesn’t think anyone could beat her.

“Whatever you say, captain…” Tatter replies and they all turn their attention back to the front.

As everyone finishes up their individual dance battles, and the battle of the aces finishes off- the teams are released to go prepare for the group battle. Everyone begins heading to their respective rooms, but one dancer stalls behind her crew by a few steps. y/n keeps peaking over her shoulder every so often, to glance back at Bebe. She simply wanted to ask Lusher for her phone number, but the girl didn’t seem to be with her team. She eventually stopped walking altogether and when y/n looked forward again, she realized the rest of her team was so far ahead she’d have to jog to catch up.

“Were you looking for someone?” y/n whips back around and is met with the rest of Bebe, more specifically their leader, who is a lot closer than she expected her to be. Her eyes turn into saucers and she seems to struggle a little to find words.

“Oh- actually- well yeah actually I was…” y/n nervously smiled and looked up at Bada, hoping that her face wasn’t turning red already. Bada gave a gentle smile in return. She looked relaxed, cool, but in her head she was trying to keep calm and not squeeze the cute girl in front of her.

“I was wondering where Lusher went, actually.” the Jam Republic dancer spoke up a little more confidently this time- still very shy, but definitely was able to speak without stuttering, which is progress!

“Mmm” Bada hummed and nodded, seemingly understanding. She held eye contact with the younger girl, before asking,

“Why?” to anyone on the outside looking in, this situation probably looks like a gang of scary tall women harassing some poor girl- which is exactly what Audrey is thinking when she turns to ask y/n a question and looks back to see her many meters away, conversing with Bebe’s leader, while the rest of the crew stands behind her.

“Oh my god- we lost y/n” she starts to panic, causing all the older members to whip around and look at Audrey like she’s crazy, then look at the spot next to her where the youngest member usually stood. Kirsten takes a deep breath before releasing it and shaking her head, Emma and Ling are genuinely in shock, and Latrice just looks at each of the members before laughing and starting to head back towards the direction they came from, to retrieve their baby.

Meanwhile, said baby is still struggling through a conversation with “the love of her life”, as she described to her team after watching Bada battle Redlic.

“Uhm- well I was looking for Lusher hoping I could get her number, or give her mine, cuz… because I really enjoyed dancing with her!” y/n finishes off strong and Bada just tilts her head in an amused, yet condescending way. Y/n finally took the opportunity to actually look at her, and wow, does she wish she didn’t, because if her face wasn’t on fire before, it sure is now. Bada was standing confidently with her feet planted shoulder-width apart and her hands casually in her pockets. Y/n was usually good at acknowledging an attractive woman leaving it at that- but this shit was just too overwhelming for the poor girl.

“She went to go refill her water, but she should be back soon. We were obviously heading to our room so if you wanna come back with us and wait for her, you’re more than welcome to.” Tatter speaks up in a chipper voice from beside Bada. She could see how red the girl’s face had gotten and wanted to help her out a little by putting her focus on something other than Bada. although her comment only seemed to make it worse-

“Oh! Oh no, that’s okay! I don’t want to intrude, and I- I should probably get back to my group anyways to prepare for the battle-” y/n frantically starts to ramble, her face somehow even brighter red than before. Bada couldn’t help the amused smirk that spread across her face.

“How about you just give me your number and I’ll give it to her?” Bada cuts her off, and not only do y/n’s eyes grow four times in size but so do Bada’s teammates’. They all try to discreetly glance at each other without freaking out, cuz since when was their leader this bold???

“Yeah… yeah of course.” Bada smiles and y/n is about to give her number, right when-

“We seriously need to put you on a leash, girl” Latrice laughs and puts her hand on y/n’s shoulder, leaving her to jump in surprise a little, not expecting her crew to have showed up behind her. The young girl let out a relieved sigh and then a tired laugh. She glanced back at Bada and the rest of Bebe then bowed slightly.

“Thank you so much for your help, but I'll just keep an eye out and try to catch her later” she speaks softly and smiles politely before moving to finally head back to her waiting room with her members. As she’s about to round the corner, y/n looks over her shoulder and shouts a sweet “good luck!” then waves cutely.

Bebe is still standing in the same spot they were in when y/n left when Lusher finally made her way back to them.

“Why are we just standing in the hall… I thought you guys would be back in our room already.” She eyes up her crew suspiciously, looking at every one of them before landing on Bada.

“Well, we would’ve been if Bada hadn’t decided to harass y/n” Kyma pipes up, and Lusher sends a look that can only be explained as concern and disbelief toward Bada.

“Excuse me, I did not HARASS her???” Bada looks over at the girl with an incredulous look.

“Right, you just tortured the poor girl and acted so cold she probably thought you were gonna eat her-” “EAT HER???? WHAT AM I NOW? A WOLF???”

“Well-” Tatter chimes in this time, “you did kind of give off that vibe when she was talking to you just now.”

“Okay- we can get back to unpacking that later. Why was she even over here?” Lusher interrupted the flow of conversation. Bada sighed and hesitated before sharing

“She actually was looking for you…” she started calmly. Noticing Lusher’s confused expression, she continued

“y/n was asking for your number… said it was because she really enjoyed dancing with you.” Bada smiled a little as she shared this information with her teammate, who in turn also smiled. Lusher’s wide eyes and light grin, made Bada realize how she actually had the opportunity to get y/n’s number and failed miserably.

“But she said she’d come find you later, so be on the lookout.” the group leader stoically expressed. Lusher hums and nods, mentally pocketing the information. They finally head back to their room and begin to prepare for the battle.

As ALL of Jam Republic enters their room, the first they do after shutting the door is all turn to face y/n. All of the members stare in anticipation, waiting for her to burst.

“So are you gonna tell us what the hell you were doing talking to Bada Lee?” Latrice urges with a teasing grin. Everyone continued to wait for y/n to start excitedly ranting, but it never came.

“I feel…” the youngest starts and they all lean in slightly, waiting for her to express everything vividly,

“I feel really confused.” She finishes her statement in a daze and honestly, the members are now convinced she’s totally out of it.

“Oh my god… what did she say to you?” “Are you okay?” “Do we need to fight her?” Emma and Audrey go back and forth with their questions, hurrying to bring y/n to sit in between them on the couch.

“She just… she’s… I just really love women, and I think I specifically am going to fall in love with that woman, and I think I'm gonna die” she rants outwardly, still in a daze. All of her members lean back slightly, flabbergasted by the youngest’s statement. Kirsten tries to keep her jaw off the floor but she puts up a hand and tries to dismiss the situation for the time being

“Well… uh… alright should we prepare for the battle, and revisit this later?” “yes please” “alright awesome, thank you for sharing y/n” “yeah, no problem”

All teams have gathered again in the main competition area for the group battle, all fired up again and ready to rumble. The energy is high as all groups compete, the mission’s final ranking is announced and Jam Republic celebrates their decent rank of fourth place. With Bebe placing right above them in third, y/n turns to the groups and claps for them, making eye contact with Lusher and giving her a thumbs up, which is returned.

They wrap up and begin to head back to their rooms again. Y/n approaches Bebe with a bright smile and hopes that Lusher will come right forward and save the other girl from embarrassing herself again in front of the group’s leader. But it turns out Lusher has other plans. She skips down the bleachers and smiles at y/n before walking right past her.

“Bada, can you get y/n’s number for me, I have to use the restroom- thanks!” she shouts as she retreats, causing all of her teammates to laugh in shock, except her leader. Bada, unprepared for the confrontation, is a little flustered and doesn’t know if she’ll be able to put up the same act as before.

Bada stands from her seat and calmly and coolly strides towards y/n. She pulls out her phone and opens the contact app, handing it to the small girl with a relaxed, almost bored, expression. When y/n doesn’t do anything at first, she looks up at Bada with wide puppy eyes, and Bada swears she stopped breathing for a second.

“You can just put your information in my phone and I'll send it to Lusher” the team leader explains, hoping y/n can’t tell how worked up and tense she is right now.

“Oh- yeah. duh” Y/n awkwardly laughs and enters her information before looking back up again with bright eyes to ask-

“Can I give myself a contact picture?” She doesn’t seem awkward or nervous at all when she asks for permission, and Bada finds it adorable. She couldn't help the endeared laugh that escaped her, and she was honestly okay with it because afterward the vibe totally changed.

“Of course you can give yourself a picture” Bada responds with a gentle, amused smile and y/n feels her nerves start to dissipate, as Bada’s genuine smile makes her feel warm and fuzzy, and she never wants to stop seeing such a beautiful thing.

Y/n poses for her contact photo by simply doing a peace sign and sticking out her tongue. Bada again giggles at her cuteness and thanks her when she hands her phone back. She’s about to speak when the Jam dancer beats her to it-

“Even though I technically gave you my number for Lusher, you should definitely still text me too, so I have your number as well!” y/n confidently speaks, but the blush painting her cheeks betrays her nerves. Bada’s eyes widen, genuinely shocked at her bold request.

“Of course- I’ll text you right now.” and so she does. Y/n giggles as she watches Bada take a similar selfie to her, which she receives moments later.

“That’s for my contact picture by the way-” the older girl jokes, which causes y/n to burst out laughing. She was surprised that this Bada was the same person as the one who almost had her fainting in the hallways earlier. The two talked and laughed some more- they really couldn’t get enough of each other.

“You know, I was freaking out during your battle with Redy- when you got in her face and started like- making fun of her height or whatever you'd call that- oh my god it was amazing! My face got so hot watching that” y/n excitedly expressed her admiration, but realized a few seconds too late how she possibly exposed herself. And she felt her face heat up immediately when Bada tilted her head and smirked teasingly.

“Oh? Why was your face all hot? Huh?” Bada teases, standing firmly with her arms crossed over her chest. She steps up to y/n, similarly to how she did with Redy. except when she’s directly in front of her and able to look over her head entirely, Bada glances down at y/n who’d already staring up at her with those wide puppy eyes that have been trapping her all day, her mouth slightly hung open.

Y/n is holding her breath- the way Bada is looking at her right now is making her want to cry. She’s so close, and the tone she uses while teasing y/n makes the younger girl weak in the knees, ready to fold at any second. She tries to stay aware, but y/n can feel her eyelids start to droop, as do Bada’s. The way she’s looking at her- with half-lidded, seductive eyes- y/n doesn’t understand how she got here, but the last thing she wanted for was it to end.

Bada had to remind herself there were many other people and cameras currently around, so she looked y/n up and down, smirked slightly (yet effectively), and backed away. She cleared her throat, but the smirk remained on her face, in fact- it was even bigger than before.

“I’ll text you later, okay?” She’s still close enough to where she can speak softly, and it makes her heart rate pick up when she realizes how flushed and dazed the younger dancer is in front of her. Bada raises her eyebrows slightly when she doesn’t get a response, to which y/n reacts quickly with a firm nod. Bada giggles at her and continues to tease.

“Ya- you should really learn how to use your words, puppy” Bada smiles condescendingly and y/n’s eyes widen once again. She lets out a small gasp when the older girl ruffles her hair before walking away.”

“I’ll text you, y/n!” Bada shouts over her shoulder and y/n just stands there, astonished. She eventually makes her way back to her crew, who watched the entire thing go down.

“What the FUCK was that-”

notes: thank you so much for reading!! sorry that this is so long and there wasn't any "real" romance written in yet. this is definitely a slower burn series, but it's because I like to build up every detail of a story haha. hoping to have the next part ready by the middle of this week, please look forward to it!!

#moth to a flame #bada x reader #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #bada lee x reader #bada lee

1K notes · View notes

winterarmyy · 9 months

Text

Thin Walls, Thin Lines

What will happen if a fuckboy falls in love with a hopeless romantic?

Summary: Modern society surely had corrupted the mind of the hundred-something year old man, Bucky Barnes, when he seemed to have forgotten the art of courting a lady. Lost in lust and pleasure, he had been indulging with endless array of different girls on his bed almost every night. And the opposite side of that thin walls of his room, lives a hopeless romantic who he was madly in love with.

Navigation: Original Version || Deleted Scene* (alt. ending)

Pairing: fuckboy!bucky x female!reader

Words: 4.9k++

Warnings: avenger au, explicit language/contents, angst, lil bit of drama, fluff, please bare with the fuckery of bucky barnes, reader is sensitive yet quite fiesty too. i can't backup steve on this one, he is on his own.

A/N: As you can see from the navigation bar, we have two different endings for this fic, because I am greedy and indecisive. The original version ended with fluff and the deleted scene (alternate ending) ended with absolute filth of a smut. So... enjoy! 💕

P/S: And this is also my submission for @jessybarnes 's writing challenge. I have chosen "Kiss me again" from the prompt list and I hope you like the way I used it in this fic!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N has always been a hopeless romantic. She dreams of a love like the ones she read in books. She craved someone who loves her so deeply that she could never find peace in anyone else but him. She wanted all the love songs and poetry to be reminders of him; his beauty, his charms.

Fresh flowers, stargazing, coffee dates, kisses that tastes of cotton candy, warm cuddles, and every little things in between; she longed for it all. She dreams of a love that is so consuming until all that's left in that small bubble of infatuation is their entangled soul mending each other to the bone.

That's what makes her a hopeless romantic.

And very much the opposite of her was Bucky. He is an infuriating flirt. There's not a day goes by that he doesn't call her with sickeningly sweet nicknames; doll, gorgeous, princess, darling, you name it. He will definitely drop some suggestive lines at any given chance and most of the time when she least expected.

He can charm anyone just by his presence, and if you're lucky enough to get one of his infamous smile; then you best believe that you won't be going home alone that night, or able to walk proper the next morning. He is the typical playboy you know and hate; very often she'll see different girl in his arms or on his bed. And that man seemed to not know when to stop. Sometimes, she do wonder if he ever got tired of sex. Because she knows for certain that he can go on and on for hours, daily.

"Fuck,, that's it. Spread your legs for me. Yeah, 'atta girl."

Speaking of the devil.

This has been recurring for months now. It seems like the man never sleep because his voice would always wake her up. She couldn't decide what was worse; between being forced to hear the sounds of the skin slapping, the bed creaking, him groaning and her squealing or being a super light sleeper that even a whisper in her room would jolt her awake.

Y/N let out an annoyed grunt when she swoop her head under the pillow, hoping to silenced the noises even just a little bit. Surprise; it didn't help at all. Her body cringed and her face contorted into a squint when she hear the other woman announcing her release as the headboard hits the wall a little harder, a little faster.

Bucky Barnes sure is a fuckboy but unfortunately for her, he is also the man she fell in love with.

She refused to show it, but lord knows how much her heart simply swell to the sight of his smile. Despite the flirtatious tendencies of his, there was something about him that attracted her like a magnet; or like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was his old soul, or maybe because she saw glimpses of timeless charm in him; the way he moves, the way he gazes, and the way treated her. Nevertheless, it was such a devastating thing for someone like her to fall for someone like him.

The last thing she wanted in a man, is to look at her like she was just a good fuck and nothing more. She just couldn't imagine herself to be tied with someone like that. And Bucky was exactly that someone.

Y/N haven't been able to get more than 2 hours of sleep for months now. The lack of it had caused her to drastically lose physical strength and lately fatigue has been a constant presence as well.

So she decided to go the medbay to consult Dr. Cho about it. After running some tests, she sat her down for some Camomile tea as she went through the results, "It seemed like the severe lack of sleep had took a really heavy toll on you."

Y/N sighed as she place the tea cup on the back on the table, "Yes, I am well aware of that. That is precisely why I am here."

"Nightmares?" Dr. Cho speculated.

If the definition of nightmare is 'the moans of the man, that she had a crush on, fucking someone else next door' then, yes. She was having long and nearly endless nightmares for months now.

"Something like that." She lied.

"Then, I have some medication that I can prescribe to you. You should take it daily after dinner and..." Before Dr. Cho managed to finish her instructions, Y/N quickly asked, "Is it possible to fix me without meds?"

Dr. Cho frowned curiously, "Why wouldn't take meds? That's the quickest way to help for your situation, as far as I know." she asked.

This was not her first rodeo; she had troubles sleeping back when she was merely teenager. And the last time tried using meds, she ended up almost overdosed herself from it, "It's just... I prefer not to." she evaded.

Dr. Cho nodded understandingly before clarifying the current situation, "Well then, I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do for you. Though some research suggested that meditation routine before sleep can help. Or putting up some natural ambience like the sound of rain or waves--"

Y/N wasn't really listening after the first sentence. Because all she could thought of was how much longer she can bare with this and what will it take for her to finally snap.

Y/N was dying. At least it felt like it.

With her deprivation of sleep and the intense combat training she had to go through today, her patience was reaching it's limit. After visiting the medbay 2 weeks ago, she had tried to approach Bucky about it but he always took it lightly.

There was series of insincere apology followed by a cheeky promise to 'keep the tone down' for her. But nothing changed. She asked him again and again; days gone by he didn't live up to the end of his bargain.

For those past week, Y/N had resorted to sleep in the living room for most of the nights. How she dreaded to leave her comfy bed but she could no longer tolerate the sounds coming from the other side on the wall. Though she still jolted awake from time to time due to how uncomfortable it was sleeping on a couch, but at least she got more than 2 hours of sleep if she was to compare to the nights she slept in her own room.

It's not she didn't notice it at all; she knew exactly how and why it happened. The habit of microsleeping that she developed during the course of this training. The slowed reaction time, the lack of energy, she can feel it. But, there was nothing she can do about it.

The only cure for this was to get some rest. A proper rest. And that can't happened, not without Bucky's cooperation.

When Y/N was marching towards the sargent who was sitting way across the gym; she could see how his eyes undress every piece of her clothing, how his tongue rolled out and his teeth sunk into his lips.

She wasn't even wearing anything remotely provocative but here he was lusting over the way her hips sway especially when he was the one she's walking towards.

The moment she stood in front of him, his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Yes, princess. How may I be of your service?" His voice was sultry and the way he towers over made her slightly nervous for no reason.

Her heart fluttered, yet her lips refused to form a smile, "Don't call me princess."

"I apologize, my queen." Bucky gave her a cheeky smile.

Y/N didn't want to drag this any longer than she should, so she quicky jump into it and said, "So you know how I’m like-"

"-absolutely embarrassingly in love with me? Yes, I'm familiar go on." Bucky cuts in. If panic ever rose in her chest, then she was doing an incredible job of hiding it, "Can you just shut up for a second and take me seriously?"

His eyes glint with flirtaous mischief when he replied, "Doll, you know the fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me."

Y/N simply sighed before she began to rant, "I really don't have the mood for this banter with you, Barnes. I just want you tone down your nightly routine. It is because of you I've been having trouble sleeping and--"

He quickly stopped her before she nags even more than she already did, "Okay, okay I get it. We've been through this, doll." Bucky's face lit up when he suggested, "How about I help you sleep, hmm? I may know a thing or two about tiring someone out." There was surely something unholy in those steel blue eyes of his.

And Y/N picked it up rather quick, but considering the amount of times he had insinuate something more than just a friendly banter, then of course she knew exactly what he was suggesting, so she simply replied, "No offense, Barnes. But, I don't do one night stand or no strings attached thing. And with a manwhore like you? No, thank you." sassy was her answer.

Bucky's head tilted back as he laughed, then when he spoke his voice was like a devil luring an angel to sin, "Oh babydoll, if I were to be a whore, it'll only be for you." He stepped closer so that only she can hear his confession.

His masculine scent hits her nose, mixture of the citrus cologne and his natural odour was just perfect. Annoyingly alluring; but perfect. And it took all her will to hold it together and blatantly rejects him, "Still not interested."

Bucky groaned in protest, "Come on, princess. You can't keep dreaming for some prince charming to court you, do you? You know that's probably never going to happen right?"

Surely he meant only to tease her; that it was less likely that an actual prince to romance her. Not that she did not deserve the world; she does. And Bucky was more than will to burn it to the ground if that's what she wanted.

But, Y/N didn't see it that way. She thought that Bucky meant that she is not worthy enough for a decent man to court her with respect and chilvary; that she was just a toy fit for fucking and nothing more. And the fact that her "insomia" had affected her usually high patience and reduced it to almost paper thin, it was only fair for her to finally snap.

She can tolerate his endless flirtation but she can't simple turn a blind eye for his insult.

Bucky was caught by surprise why Y/N harshly grabbed him by the collar, pushing him back and nearly stumbled; her eyes was pure fire when she growled, "Don't you dare mock the way I value relationship, Barnes." Her nose flared with anger and the commotion has attracted some prying eyes towards the two.

"Just because you enjoy fucking anything that breathes, that doesn't mean that everyone else does." She seethed, "The only cock that will be wrecking my pussy would belong to someone I love and if you have a problem with that, you can fuck right off." She forcefully pushed him until his ass landed on the bench behind him.

Her feet stomped all throughout her exit out of the gym, leaving Bucky in a blinking confusion.

He knew it was wrong.

It felt good. It felt right.

But, it was so fucking wrong.

To keep moaning Y/N's name when he railed those strangers to heaven; when he came so hard into the thin layer of condom. And it was always a soft and slow type of whimper, right in those girls' ears. So intimate, so careful not to let his secret out; knowing how thin the walls between him and the love of his life.

But, he certainly didn't care about the girl he was fucking. If it wasn't for his heavy body pinning her from behind, she would've elbowed him right in the guts for moaning another woman's name. Unfortunately for him, she quickly ditched and see herself out after the first round.

Now, he laid there; naked and bare. Thinking of how he simply couldn't help it. How could he not think of Y/N all the times? Not when he was deeply, helplessly in love with her. But, he knew she wouldn't bat an eye at him now that he had the reputation of a "fuckboy", as the young ones describes it. She especially made it clear today at the gym. She's never going to give him a chance now.

Not when she's a hopeless romantic. And the fact that he too was once the same was just aggravating to him. He was such a gentleman decades ago; before Hydra, before the war, when he was but a young man living Brooklyn.

His Ma had really shaped him into the perfect gentleman; every parents in the neighbourhood wanted him as their son-in-law. They claimed he would make the perfect husband for their daughters. But, things are different now. And he knew that the man he was before was long forgotten.

It was just curiosity at first; about how sex works in the 21st century. However, Bucky quickly fall into the promises of lust and pleasure; changing girls like changing clothes. He let himself dosed in ecstasy, as if it was a drug to silenced the dark and haunting memories of his past, like it was a quick escape from reality, from the Winter Soldier.

Then, Y/N happened.

Bucky never saw it coming; but, he fell. Hard.

They were colleague for years and had been a good friend he can rely on besides Steve. She was so sweet and pretty. Probably the most gorgeous woman he ever laid his eyes on, in the hundred something year old life of his. Most importantly, she was kind and patient and strong and fierce yet so unforgivingly selfless.

But that didn't matter now, does it? Especially when she despise him. And it was all because of the unholy title he held.

At first Bucky didn't notice it, but now that he stepped closer into the living room, he heard it again. The rustling fabric, the quiet whimper coming from the sofa. His steps were as careful as a wolf on a hunt, stalking a hiding prey in between the trees.

If Bucky were to guess what he would find on a late night trip to the kitchen, he would've probably said 'ice cream' and not 'Y/N sleeping in the living room'. His eyes briefly raked her sleeping figure, curling uncomfortably into the pastel purple blanket. Then at the scattered pillows on the floor around her.

Why was she sleeping in the living room?

Another whine passed her lips and his attention was locked on her frowning face; it seemed like she was having a bad dream. Bucky carefully crouch next to her, and ravel in her beauty. Such delicate features, long lashes, pretty freckles across her nose, and those soft looking lips; he would kill just to taste her them, to sink his teeth in between them.

It worried him though; to see her sleeping here. She was clearly uncomfortable, it was a mystery that she managed to even fall asleep in the first place. Bucky suspected she simply passed out due to today's training. It was particularly hard, even for him. Let alone a normal human being like Y/N.

Not to mention the fight that they had.

Then, it clicked. The complains about how she had trouble sleeping. It wasn't just to make fun of him or tease him in any way. It was a plead. She needed to be heard and he completely blew her off with jest and jokes.

"Was it because of... me?" Bucky thought to himself. It all made sense now, "Shit." A curse rang in his mind when he bit the insides of his cheek. He was mad at himself. How could he be so insensitive? And he claimed to love her? Please. What an absolute piece of shit he was.

When Y/N began to toss and turn, her blanket fell from her body. Even in her sleep, the cold managed to catch her. She instinctively curled towards herself, seeking warmth but was no avail.

She look so small and Bucky felt a surge of need to cuddle her close, keeping her safe, keeping her warm in his arms. But if he does that, he'd probably get kicked in the nuts. So instead, he picked up the fallen blanket lay it back across her whole body; carefully not to disturb her sleep.

Bucky smiled softly when she snuggled into the fabric and before he walked away, he swore to stop this corrupting habit of his and apologize for being such a douchebag to her. And if he's lucky, maybe he could even properly court her.

But for now, he just needed to go through tommorrow's mission. So does everyone one else in the team.

"Do you realized what you have done?" Not matter how hard he tried to hold it back, everyone in the Quinjet can see how Steve was seething.

Y/N's lost of sleep had took a toll on her more than she realized now that it had affected her performance in mission. She tried to ignore the way she was basically seeing Steve's feet multiply by the second, and continued to look down in shame, "I'm sorry, Captain."

"Don't apologize to me. Nat's the one who got shot because of you!" He yelled as he pointed at the red haired woman at the side of the plane.

No matter how much she wanted to blame Bucky on this; how he literally robbed her from fulfilling her human needs to rest at night, but she just couldn't. It was her fault that Natasha got hurt. If she was more alert, she would've seen the enemy standing right in front of her. If she was awake enough, then Natasha wouldn't get hurt.

Tears threatened to form when she looked over at her dear friend, bleeding at the side, "I'm so sorry, Nat. I really am. I didn't know what came to me and I--"

"Oh please, I'd take a bullet for you any day of the week, honey." Natasha swiftly cuts into her apology, in attempt to diffuse the heated situation.

But, Steve totally disagree with her, "Don't make this 'okay', Nat. You almost died because for her carelessness. Being inadequate shouldn't be okay for any agent to do. It is extremely reckless and downright stupid."

There was a sound of a distant gasp from the pilot pit, "Language!" Tony was clearly trying to lighten up the mood but it failed rather miserably when no one reacted.

Steve had every right to be mad, especially when his girlfriend was injured because of this, but oh does it hurt to hear his stabbing words. It hurts more when it comes from the Captain America himself.

God, she was extremely tired.

Physically, mentally and that's what happens when a person is lack of sleep. Then when she thought about all her hardwork and struggles to train amongst the superhero themselves, she couldn't help but to crack; and the tears that was building up in her eyes finally fell.

When Steve saw it, he lost it completely, "Oh, you're gonna cry now? WOW. Real mature, y/n. You can't disappoint me more can you?" At that point, he was being a little too mean for anyone's liking.

Especially Bucky.

So Bucky slowly pulled Y/N back, and shielded her body behind his as he went on face to face with his bestfriend, "That's enough, Steve." He warned but Steve doesn't seem to get the idea, "No, Buck. Do you see--"

Bucky took one step closer, his menacing glare went right through Steve's soul, "I said... that's enough." He repeated his words. This time the message went through.

Steve gulped and cleared his throat as he waved a dismissing hand, "I expect a full report and a letter of apology from you when we get back, y/n." He ended his sentence with his back turned and then walked away towards his girl.

When Bucky turned around to face Y/N, she was but a crying mess. Tears kept streaming down and her lips quivered in so much sadness. Now, that she was in the light, Bucky could see the darker shades on the bag of her eyes.

This was his fault. If he just stopped goofing around and listen to what she had to say yesterday, she wouldn't need to go through this, "Oh sweetheart..." though he meant to call her in his mind, it might just slipped through his lips.

Y/N glared up at him, "This was none of your concern, Barnes." She spat.

He shrugged, "Well, lucky for you, I don't care whose it is. What I know is I care about you. Now, let's get that wound patch up." Bucky simply said, and that was when she realized that her ribs were slashed open, bleeding and torn. Maybe it was not too deep, that was why she didn't notice it.

But it is an injury nonetheless, and it was a surprise to her that Bucky noticed it. "I don't want your help." She frowned yet continued to sniffle.

"Yeah, but you need it." He replied as he carefully tucked the loose strand of her hair behind her ears.

Unable to think of any comebacks, she let her fatigue win over. Her lips shut tightly and her chest shuddered for breaths. And when Bucky took her hand in his and lead the way, her body instantly responded by gripping him tight.

Bucky's heart soared at the touch of her small hand in his, while fire was burning in hers.

She hates him. She hates how caring he can be. She hates how soft he was when handling her. And she hates how easy it was for him to make her fall for him even more.

Y/N's body quickly went on auto pilot; she let him undress the blood soaking top and patch her wounds. And Bucky let her cry her heart out on his shoulder all the way back home to New York.

That night when everyone had settled back to their own rooms, Y/N was prepping to sleep outside again. It was like a schedule for Bucky to always fuck whatever his frustrations out when they finished a mission.

And she doesn't want to hear any of it. Not tonight.

Thankfully, her wounds were mostly healed thanks to Dr. Cho and her ingenious of a machine, Cradle. That thing fixed the teared tissue right up with its regenerative functions.

Now, Y/N just needs to endure the bruises but those are bearable. What she couldn't bear is the lack of energy and goodnight's sleep. She wished to just pass out for days and not wake up even if a prince came to kiss her to wake.

And she knew that sleeping in her room won't give her that.

Y/N piled her pillows and blanket on top of another before scanning the room one last time to make sure she didn't leave anything behind. Because she was not planning to step foot in her room until dawn comes, hoping the sounds from the other side of the room died down by then.

When she was walking pass Bucky's, she noticed how awfully quiet his room was, but she didn't think about it too much. She waited for the elevator to open its door only to reveal the man himself, "Barnes."

He eyed how Y/N's figure almost hidden behind the piles of pillow in her hold. He stepped out as he asked, "Where do you think you're going?" Bucky knew exactly where but he was not having any of that.

It was weird to her that she didn't see any sign or Bucky's hook-up in his arms, but she bet that there will be one after she's gone downstairs, "Away from you, that's for sure." She said, taking a step into the elevator but instantly stopped the moment Bucky blocked her path.

Bucky lips flatten against each other; he didn't say anything, he only frowned down at her then simply grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to her room.

Utterly confused, "What are you doing? Hey, let go of me." She twisted her wrist in his hold, while trying to balance the pillows from falling. A useless trial it was; because who could even escape that metal grip of his.

Bucky quickly respond, "No. You're not sleeping on that shitty sofa tonight." He stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to her, "You're injured, y/n. You need on a proper rest on a proper bed." He coaxed.

How did he know that she had been sleeping on the coach? She thought before saying out loud, "I'm fine, Barnes. It's not even that deep of a wound, the Cradle fixed it clean. So, can you just... let go of my hand?" She sighed.

But Bucky refused to even spare her a glance, he silently tug her and stomp his way towards her room. There waa retaliation on her side, but his lack of response had lead Y/N to her defeat. She begrudgingly followed his long strides until she they stood by her bed.

He snatched each of the pillows and blankets off her hands, while Y/N simply blinked speechlessly as she watched Bucky started set up her bed like he had been doing it everyday.

Weirdly, at times like this, she found him extremely lovely. There was no corny and flirty comment about her, or his annoying habit of teasing every little thing she does.

There was just a comfortable silence and a kind gesture; the type that pulled the red strings of her heart just enough to make her want to dream of him.

Fucking hell, she can't believe that he managed to do that again! Making her fall for his antics. He really needs to stop doing that, it's simply rude.

Y/N broke from her love struck trance when she felt his cold metal laced around her hand again, he pulled her closer, "Now hop on, bunny. You need to rest." He lead her under the blanket and she grumbled curses under her breath, something about he need stop calling her weird nicknames like that.

When she was well tucked in and comfortable, Bucky sat at the edge of the bed by her side and spoke, "I'm sorry. For not trying to listen to you at the gym yesterday. I was a jerk."

His apology was so sincere that Y/N caught herself in a shock. Who is this man? What has he done to Bucky Barnes?

His eyes lingered to the wall behind her bed as if he was trying to find the right words to address it, "About the noises..." he trailed, "...it'll stop from now on."

Oh. Nevermind. She liked this Bucky. She wants to keep him forever, "Really? You mean it?" There weren't any effort put to hide her excitement when her voice nearly squeaked.

Bucky chuckled amusingly at her reaction, "Really, doll. But, you gotta promise not to sleep on the couch again."

Sparks of joy filled her chest when he confirmed his decision. Sure, it was such a small favour to do to anyone. But, she appreciate his efforts to make amends. "Hmm, I promise." She hummed happily, blinking slow as the comfort of her bed lured her into a drowsy state.

"Thanks, Bucky." Her mentioned his name.

Thank god for the super sensitive hearing ability, cause Bucky surely love the sound of her voice whispering his name so softly, "For apologizing or for tucking you to sleep?" He jest.

It only made her eyes rolled to the side and a smile spread across her face, "Both." she said. "And for what you did on the jet."

Bucky simply shrugged as if it was a normal thing to do. But, it wasn't. It was rare for him to challenge Steve like he did. And he did it for her, "Really, I owe you one." She said assuringly.

A playful smirk pulled on Bucky's lips when he spoke "Doll, you shouldn't be saying that so carelessly. Who knows I might use it for despicable things." Surely, he love to be the cause to bloom those red shades on her cheeks.

But it didn't happened when she asked quietly, "Will you?"

And the silence that came after was heavy with tenderness while their eyes spoke the truth to one another. As the thin lines in between got blurry, for once, there was just streams of genuine feelings pouring out of them, leaking through and contaminating the air with its magic.

Would he? Take advantage of her?

How could he though? He loved her too much to even think of purposely hurting her. "No." Bucky replied as he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, "Sleep well, princess." He mumbled against her skin.

And he pulled back, he grinned a cheeky smile. There it was; the pink blush on her face, wide surprise of her eyes and her slightly parted lips. She looked so adorable. He swore couldn't get enough of it.

"Kiss me again..." she nearly growled, but her blushing on her face didn't indicate anger, "...and I will choke you in your sleep." Though it was an attempt to threaten but typical of Bucky to just love to turn things around, "Hmm, is that an invitation, princess?" He purred and stole another kiss; this time, on her cheek. "Then, I will be looking forward to it." He whispered as quickly as he removed himself from the scene.

When he found his own bed, he couldn't help but to laugh at the muffled scream coming from the opposite side of the thin walls, "James. Fucking. Barnes!!!"

End.

Alternate ending (smut edition): Deleted Scene >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I hope you drop some thoughts behind before going to the deleted scene. Which I know you will. See you on the other side 👀

#jessybarnesreaches500 #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky #fuckboy!bucky #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #thin walls thin lines au

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midastouch013 · 2 months

Text

"Find Me Attractive Again"

Based on this request

Summary: You had a wonderful girlfriend, and so what happens when you discover she has an eating disorder

Warnings: Eating disorder, Hurt Nat, Sad Nat, Neglecting Y/n. Panic Attacks. Purging, throwing up. Major hurt/comfort, from both sides.

P.S I wasn't really satisfied with the ending, so I apologise. I also took my own spin on it since it was kind vague, so I hope you like it'.

P.S.S And also, after such heavy fics, I'd really like for someone to drop me a fluffy one, Not just Nat, any Marvel woman please.

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It was a typical summer day in New York City when your paths first crossed. You, wrapped up in the chaos of your medical residency, were rushing through the streets, white coat flapping behind you like a superhero’s cape, while Natasha Romanoff, the infamous Black Widow, was navigating the crowds with the ease of someone who had seen it all.

It was at a street corner where fate decided to intervene, in the form of an iced coffee and a collision. Natasha, in her sleek elegance, accidentally bumped into you, sending her cold drink cascading down your front.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was a mix of genuine contrition and a hint of amusement.

You blinked, the cold seeping through your shirt, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. “Well, at least it’s a hot day,” you replied, trying to brush off the mess.

Natasha quickly handed you some napkins, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're a humour one I see"

"That I am" you grinned "I've also cost you your coffee"

Natasha went to open her mouth, but you spoke instead.

“Let me make it up to you. Can I buy you another drink?”

"But I'm the one who spilt mine on you?" her eyebrow raised as she questioned.

"And?"

"I should be the one buying for you?"

You're smile didn't falter " Where's the chivalry in that?"

And that was the start of it all. What began as a clumsy encounter turned into a friendship neither of you expected. Natasha’s charm, mixed with her trademark snark, drew you in like a moth to a flame. Soon, the two of you were spending your precious free time together, swapping stories over drinks or taking long walks through the city.

Despite her guarded nature, Natasha opened up to you in ways she hadn’t with anyone else. You became her confidante, her sanctuary in a world filled with chaos and danger. And in turn, you found solace in her presence, a respite from the relentless demands of your residency.

As your friendship deepened, so did your feelings for her. You found yourself falling for the enigmatic Avenger, captivated by her strength, her wit, and the vulnerability she only showed to you. And one day, gathering every ounce of courage you had, you asked her out on a date.

To your delight, Natasha said yes, her smile lighting up the room in a way you had never seen before. And just like that, your friendship blossomed into something more, a new chapter in both of your lives.

Now, as you walked hand in hand through the bustling streets of New York, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. With Natasha by your side, you felt invincible, ready to take on whatever challenges life threw your way.

Little did you know, however, that behind the redhead’s confident facade lay a secret she was desperate to keep hidden. An invisible battle she fought every day, one that threatened to consume her from within.

And so, all it would take for you to find out, as a plate of untouched food, and certain other stuff

---

The elevator door opened with a ding, admitting you into the familiar warmth of your shared home (Floor in the compound that Tony had so happily given) with Natasha. The faint scent of breakfast lingered in the air, a reminder of the meal you had meticulously prepared before your short 12-hour shift at the hospital.

But as you stepped further into the living space, your brow furrowed in confusion. The plate of food you had set out for Natasha sat untouched on the dining table, a solitary fork resting against the edge.

"Nat?" you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet apartment. There was no response, just the eerie stillness of an empty room.

Concern gnawed at the edges of your mind as you ventured further into the living space, scanning every corner for any sign of your elusive girlfriend. But Natasha was nowhere to be found.

However, before you could think what to do next, the sound of retching echoed through the apartment, sending a shiver of dread down your spine. Without a moment's hesitation, you bolted towards the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you flung open the door, the sight that greeted you was enough to make your stomach churn. There stood Natasha, hunched over the toilet, her face contorted in agony as she forced herself to purge.

Instinct took over as you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from her mouth. "Nat, stop," you urged, your voice laced with urgency and concern.

For a moment, she resisted, the muscles in her arm tense with the effort of her struggle. But slowly, reluctantly, she relented, allowing you to pry her fingers away from their self-destructive task.

The sight of her trembling form, tears glistening in her eyes, tore at your heartstrings like nothing else. You wanted to wrap her in your arms, to shield her from the demons that haunted her, but you knew that this was a battle she had to fight on her own terms.

Gently, you guided her away from the toilet, leading her to the sink where you wet a washcloth and pressed it against her clammy forehead. "It's okay, Nat," you murmured, your voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within her.

As you helped Natasha up from the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, her silence weighed heavily in the air, a palpable barrier between you. You guided her to the bed, her movements sluggish and unsteady, and gently urged her to sit down while you prepared a bath.

With practiced efficiency, you filled the tub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender oil to help soothe her frazzled nerves. But as you turned to help Natasha undress, you noticed the way she recoiled from your touch, her body tensing at the slightest contact.

Your heart ached at the sight, a pang of sadness settling in the pit of your stomach. You had always prided yourself on being there for Natasha, on offering her the unwavering support and love she so desperately needed. But now, faced with her silent withdrawal, you felt utterly helpless, like a bystander watching helplessly as a storm raged on the horizon.

With a heavy sigh, you stepped back, giving Natasha the space she seemed to need. You watched in silence as she rose from the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, before making her way to the bathroom.

It was only then that you noticed the small click of the lock as she closed the door behind her, a barrier sealing her off from the outside world. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the walls Natasha had built around herself, walls that even you, with all your love and devotion, could not penetrate.

For a moment, you stood there in the empty room, the weight of Natasha's silence bearing down on you like a leaden cloak. But then, with a resolute shake of your head, you pushed aside your own doubts and fears, determined to stand by her side no matter what.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and made your way to the bathroom door, your hand poised to knock. But at the last moment, you hesitated, the sound of running water and Natasha's soft sobs echoing through the wood.

But when the sound of retching pierced through the closed bathroom door, a surge of panic shot through you like a bolt of lightning. Without a second thought, you abandoned your plans to change and rushed back to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

With a swift motion, you twisted the doorknob, but to your dismay, it refused to budge. Locked. The realization sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through your veins, igniting a primal instinct to protect Natasha at all costs.

"Nat, open the door!" you called out, your voice tinged with desperation. But there was no response, just the sickening sound of her struggle echoing through the small space.

With a burst of adrenaline-fueled determination, you threw your weight against the door, the wood groaning in protest as it gave way beneath your force. For a moment, everything seemed to blur together in a haze of motion and sound, until finally, the door swung open with a resounding crash.

And there she was, hunched over the toilet once more, her body wracked with violent spasms as she forced herself to purge. Without hesitation, you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from their self-destructive task.

"Nat, please stop," you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. But this time, there was no resistance, no struggle against your touch. Instead, Natasha collapsed against you, her tears mingling with the cool touch of your skin.

With a sense of resolve, you refused to leave Natasha alone in the bathroom this time. Instead, you stayed by her side, offering silent support as she struggled with the demons that haunted her.

As the water continued to run, filling the tub with warm, comforting steam, you gently guided Natasha towards it. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes cast downwards, before finally sinking into the water with a heavy sigh.

You stood by the tub, your presence a silent reassurance as Natasha submerged herself beneath the surface, her shoulders tense with the weight of her burdens. With a soft exhale, you reached for the shampoo, pouring a small amount into your palm before lathering it into her hair with gentle, soothing strokes.

"I won't look," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I promise."

Natasha remained silent, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the confines of the bathroom. But you could sense the tension in her body, the invisible barriers she had erected to keep you at arm's length.

Undeterred, you continued to wash her hair, your fingers working through the tangles with practiced precision. With each stroke, you hoped to chip away at the walls she had built around herself, to offer her a glimpse of the love and acceptance that lay waiting on the other side.

But despite your best efforts, Natasha remained distant, her silence a heavy weight in the air between you. It was as if she had retreated into herself, lost in the labyrinth of her own thoughts and fears.

With a heavy heart, you finished washing her hair, rinsing away the suds with gentle care. Then, reaching for the washcloth, you began to bathe her body, moving with slow, deliberate motions as you washed away the stains of the outside world.

Gently, you lifted Natasha from the bathtub, her body feeling almost weightless in your arms. The sight of her frail form, bones protruding beneath the thin veil of her skin, sent a shiver of concern down your spine. It was a stark reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her body, a silent battle she fought day in and day out.

With tender care, you carried her back to the bed, laying her down with the utmost gentleness. You tucked the blankets around her, the soft fabric a comforting cocoon against the cold reality of her struggles.

As Natasha lay there, her eyes distant and unfocused, you made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with thoughts of how to help her. You knew that she needed nourishment, both for her body and her soul, but convincing her to eat was a battle in itself.

With a determined resolve, you rummaged through the pantry, searching for something light and easy to stomach. Finally, you settled on a plate of sliced fruit, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the darkness that threatened to consume Natasha from within.

Returning to the bedroom, you found Natasha still lying there, her gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance. Carefully, you placed the plate of fruit on the bedside table, hoping that the sight of it would stir something within her.

"Nat," you said softly, your voice a gentle reminder of your presence. "I brought you a snack. It's just some fruit. Would you like some?"

For a moment, there was no response, just the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest as she breathed in and out. But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, she reached out a trembling hand, fingers curling around a slice of apple.

You held your breath, watching intently as Natasha brought the fruit to her lips, her movements hesitant and uncertain. But then, with a small nod of encouragement from you, she took a tentative bite, the sweetness of the apple filling the air between you.

A sense of relief washed over you as you watched Natasha eat, each bite a small victory in the battle against her eating disorder.

As Natasha slowly nibbled on the fruit, you settled beside her on the bed, the familiar weight of her body a comforting anchor in the storm of uncertainty. With a soft click of the remote, you turned on the television, the familiar theme song of F.R.I.E.N.D.S filling the room with its nostalgic melody.

You glanced over at Natasha, her gaze fixed on the screen, her lips curved ever so slightly in the beginnings of a smile. It was a small victory, a glimmer of light in the darkness that threatened to consume her.

With a tender smile of your own, you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against your side. The warmth of her body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of her breath a soothing lullaby in the quiet of the night.

Together, you watched as the familiar antics of Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe unfolded on the screen before you. The laughter of the characters, the camaraderie of their friendships, served as a reminder of the bonds that held you and Natasha together, even in the darkest of times.

And as the episode came to an end, you turned to Natasha, the ghost of a smile still lingering on her lips. "Feeling a little better?" you asked softly, your voice a gentle caress against the silence of the room.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. But then, with a small nod of her head, she leaned into your embrace, her body relaxing against yours.

It was a small victory, a flicker of hope in the midst of despair. But for now, in this moment of quiet intimacy, it was enough. Together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way. As you snuggled into Natasha, the fragile contours of her body pressed against yours, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With each delicate curve of her form, you could feel the sharp edges of her bones, a painful reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you held her close, the weight of her fragility pressing down on you like a leaden weight. "Why, Nat?" you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of Natasha's unspoken pain hanging heavy in the air between you. But then, as your grip tightened around her, almost as if you were clinging to her for dear life, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I..." she began, her words faltering as if caught in the tangled web of her thoughts. But then, with a small shake of her head, she fell silent once more, the words hanging between you like an unspoken promise.

As you thought Natasha had drifted off to sleep, you reached for your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating the dimly lit room. With a deep breath, you dialed the number for the hospital, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to make a decision that would change everything.

"Hello, this is Dr. Y/l/n," you began, your voice steady despite the nerves that churned in the pit of your stomach. "I need to take the next month off."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of a hesitant voice. "Dr. Y/l/n, are you sure? We're short-staffed as it is, and your patients—"

"I'm sure," you interrupted, your tone firm and unwavering. "I've already made up my mind."

The person on the other end of the line hesitated, clearly taken aback by your sudden decision. "But Dr. Y/l/n you're one of our top surgeons. We can't afford to lose you—"

"I understand that," you replied, your voice tinged with frustration. "But right now, I need to take care of someone who needs me more than anyone else."

There was a moment of silence as the gravity of your words hung heavy in the air between you. And then, with a resigned sigh, the person on the other end of the line relented, agreeing to grant you the time off on the condition that you'd go unpaid for the month.

As you ended the call, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. You knew that taking time off from the hospital was a risk, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was being there for Natasha when she needed you most.

But as you turned to check on her, you realized that she had been awake the whole time, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Natasha's voice cut through the silence of the room, her words heavy with emotion. "Why did you do that?" she asked, her eyes searching yours for answers.

You met her gaze, the weight of her question hanging heavy in the air between you. Taking a deep breath, you reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, your fingers lingering against her cheek.

"Because you needed me," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Because I love you, Natasha, and I would do anything for you."

Tears welled in Natasha's eyes as she listened to your words, her expression a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. "For everything."

As Natasha's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft hum of the room's ventilation system. You could see the turmoil swirling behind her eyes, the weight of her burdens threatening to crush her beneath their weight.

"Why did you do that, Natasha?" you asked gently, your voice laced with concern. "Why do you hurt yourself like this?"

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her gaze drifting away from yours as she searched for the words to explain the unexplainable. "It's… it's complicated," she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Try me," you urged, your tone soft and understanding. "I want to understand, Natasha. I want to help you."

With a heavy sigh, Natasha began to speak, her words halting and uncertain at first, but gaining strength with each passing moment. "It's not just me," she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's… it's the comments, the stares, the whispers behind my back."

Your heart ached as you listened to her words, the pain and anguish etched into every syllable. You knew all too well the harsh realities of the world Natasha inhabited, the constant scrutiny and judgment that followed her wherever she went.

"It's like… like I'm never good enough," Natasha continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I achieve, it's never enough. And the news, they… they only make it worse."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you watched Natasha unravel before you, the weight of her suffering a burden too heavy for her to bear alone. In that moment, you felt a surge of anger rise up within you, a burning indignation at the injustices Natasha had endured.

"And..." She trailed off

"And?" You pulled her into your arms, holding her close as if to show that you were there for her. You could feel the ache in her voice, the raw vulnerability laid bare before you.

"I just... You," Natasha began, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "You used to look at me with such... such longing. You'd initiate everything, your touch, your kisses... But lately, it's like you don't even see me anymore."

Your heart clenched at her words, unsure of what to do or say.

"I thought... I thought maybe it was because of how I looked," Natasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought if I worked out more, if I stopped eating, if I... if I purged, maybe you'd find me attractive again."

Your breath caught in your throat at her confession, the pain of her self-inflicted suffering tearing at your heartstrings. How could she think such a thing? How could she believe that her worth was tied to her appearance?

But you remained silent, allowing Natasha to speak, to purge the demons that haunted her soul. For in that moment, you realized that the only way to help her heal was to listen, to truly listen, without judgment or condemnation.

"I just wanted to be enough for you," Natasha whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "But I was so wrong, wasn't I? I was so wrong."

And as she buried her face in her hands, her words seemed to sink in, making you feel like the ground beneath you is crumbling away, leaving you adrift in a sea of guilt and self-loathing.

Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself away from Natasha, the weight of her words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You stumbled backward, your eyes wide with shock as you realized the role you had played in her pain.

"Oh my god," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own ragged breaths. " I did that"

Natasha's eyes widened in concern as she watched you retreat, her voice tinged with fear. "Y/n? Are you okay?"

But you couldn't answer, couldn't bring yourself to face her, not when the guilt threatened to suffocate you. You hated yourself in that moment, hated the way you had let work consume you, the way you had neglected the person you loved most in the world.

And then it hit you, a wave of overwhelming emotion crashing over you like a tsunami. You sank to the floor, your body racked with sobs as the weight of your own self-loathing bore down on you like a heavy burden.

Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the darkness, her words lost amidst the chaos of your own thoughts. But you could feel her presence beside you, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort and support.

But you couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the thought of her touching you, not when you were the reason she was in pain. So you pushed her away, stumbling to your feet and retreating further into the shadows.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice barely audible above the storm of your own despair. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to… I didn't know…"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the words tumbled from your lips in a frantic mantra, each repetition a desperate plea for forgiveness. But the only one you blamed was yourself, your own self-loathing swallowing you whole.

Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the chaos of your mind, her words lost in the tumult of your own despair. But you could feel her presence beside you, a steady anchor in the storm.

But even as she reached out to comfort you, you recoiled from her touch, the weight of your guilt too heavy to bear. You felt betrayed by yourself, , the person who had allowed this to happen.

"I'm sorry," you choked out once more, your voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to…"

But the words fell flat, empty and hollow in the face of your own self-condemnation. And as you sank further into the darkness, the weight of your own despair threatening to consume you, you knew that there was no escape from the demons that haunted you.

"Y/n, listen to me," Natasha's voice was firm, cutting through the haze of panic that clouded your mind. "You need to breathe. Deep breaths, okay?"

You nodded, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of your racing heart.

"That's it," she encouraged, her voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. "Inhale... and exhale. You're okay, I've got you."

You focused on her words, on the steady rhythm of her breathing, allowing them to anchor you in the present moment.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/n," Natasha continued, her grip on your hand reassuringly firm. "I'm right here with you, and I'm not letting you go."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you clung to her, the weight of your own self-loathing threatening to crush you beneath its suffocating embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Natasha," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I didn't-"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle finger against your lips, her eyes soft with understanding. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured.

With trembling hands, you grasped Natasha's palms in yours, feeling the warmth of her touch seeping into your skin like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Without a word, you pulled her into a tight embrace, needing to feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest.

"I love you, Tasha," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pressed kisses against her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, each touch a silent testament to the depth of your love for her.

"I'm sorry for everything," you murmured between kisses, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for making you feel unloved, for neglecting you when you needed me most. I promise, I'll do better. I'll be better for you, for us."

Natasha's arms tightened around you, her own tears mingling with yours as she buried her face against your chest. "I love you too, Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "And I forgive you. We'll get through this together, I promise."

---

Over the next few days, you devoted yourself wholeheartedly to supporting Natasha, determined to make amends for your past neglect. You woke up early to prepare nutritious meals for her, ensuring that she had the sustenance she needed to fuel her body and soul.

You gently guided her through each day, offering words of encouragement and reassurance whenever she needed them. You deleted all the news apps from her phone, shielding her from the harsh judgments and scrutiny of the outside world.

And when you learned of the agents who had dared to badmouth Natasha, you wasted no time in tracking them down and giving them a piece of your mind. With a fiery determination burning in your eyes, you confronted them head-on, refusing to let them tarnish Natasha's reputation any further.

"You have no idea what she's been through," you spat, your voice laced with righteous anger. "She's one of the strongest, most resilient people I know, and she deserves nothing but respect."

The agents cowered before you, their faces pale with guilt and shame. And as you walked away, leaving them to ponder the consequences of their actions, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you.

Every time you sensed Natasha spiraling, you were there, a steady anchor in her stormy sea. You showered her with kisses, peppering her face with affectionate gestures, a silent reminder of the love that enveloped her. Your touch was a constant presence, your fingers entwined with hers or softly tracing patterns on her skin, a tangible reassurance that you were there for her, always.

You made sure she had everything she needed, anticipating her wants before she even voiced them. Whether it was a warm meal or a comforting hug, you were always one step ahead, ready to offer her solace in her moments of need.

But even as you tended to her, Natasha noticed the turmoil brewing beneath your surface. Despite your smiles and jokes, she saw the shadows lurking in your eyes, the weight of your own struggles weighing heavily on your shoulders. And though you tried to hide it, she knew that your sleepless nights were spent wrestling with demons of your own.

---

As the time came for you to return to work after a month of devoted care for Natasha, a sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach. The thought of leaving her alone, vulnerable to the demons that had haunted her in the past, filled you with a gnawing anxiety.

You found yourself making up excuses, delaying your departure in a futile attempt to hold onto the precious moments you had shared together. But Natasha saw through your facade, her eyes searching yours for the truth that you were desperate to hide.

"Y/n, what's going on?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm. "You've been acting strange lately, avoiding going back to work, making excuses to stay. Is something wrong?"

Your heart constricted at the concern in her voice, the weight of your own fears threatening to suffocate you. But you couldn't bring yourself to voice the truth, to admit to the depths of your own insecurities.

"I… I just don't want to leave you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid that if I go back to work, things will go back to how they were before. I'm afraid of losing you Tasha."

Tears welled in your eyes as you spoke, the vulnerability of your confession laying bare the depths of your fear. But Natasha's response was immediate, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace, her warmth a comforting balm against the storm raging within you.

"Y/n, listen to me," she said, her voice steady and unwavering. "I'm not going anywhere. We've been through hell and back together, and I'm not about to let anything tear us apart."

With a heavy heart and a sense of resolve, you made the difficult decision to resign from your position, knowing that your place was by Natasha's side. As you prepared to leave, a fierce determination burned within you to make the most of the time you had left together.

With a hunger born of love and longing, you pulled Natasha into your arms, your lips seeking hers in a passionate kiss.

An so as you hold Natasha close, your heart overflowing with love and devotion, you feel the need to express the depths of your feelings to her.

"Nat," you begin, your voice soft and tender, "I need you to understand something. I love you more than words can express, more than I ever thought possible."

You press a gentle kiss to her forehead, savoring the warmth of her skin against your lips before continuing.

"I love you for who you are, not for your past or your appearance. Every part of you, every scar, every imperfection, it's all part of what makes you so incredibly beautiful to me."

Your fingers trace the contours of her face, your touch reverent and adoring.

"And I want you to know that my love for you will never waver. No matter what challenges we face, no matter what obstacles come our way, I will always be by your side, loving you with every beat of my heart."

Tears shimmer in Natasha's eyes as she listens to your words, her own heart swelling with emotion.

"I love you too, Y/n," she whispers, her voice choked with tears. "More than you'll ever know."

---------

#avengers #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #anon ask #anonymous #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #natasha x y/n #natalia romanova #eating disoder recovery

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seventies-arcana · 10 months

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PAC: what type of lover do you attract?

hello lovies, i hope this reading reaches you well. in this pac reading, you will find out what type of lover/romantic partner you naturally attract. this reading is for entertainment and enjoyment purposes. ask upon your guides/higher self to help guide you to whichever pile/photo you should choose, then read the message. images are not mine. pick a picture to begin ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

pile one (the nails): the type of person you attract is kind-hearted and good-intentioned. they bring out the best in you, which makes you very happy whenever you two spend time together. they also have a tendency to spend their money on you, whether it be for buying you lunch, drinks, gifts, or covering your tab. they enjoy spending their money on you, no matter the price. they might, however, play a little game of hard to get. once they've gained an interest in you, starting to leave hints of their attraction, they want to make sure you'd put an effort into the relationship. they might even want you to make the first real move, beyond the lingering gazes and fleeting touches. but it's worth the effort. it might take some time, but once you two are officially together, the relationship is very fun. enjoyable, like dating your best friend or partner in crime. you'll tease each other in light-hearted fun, and you'll wonder what took you two so long to get here.

pile two (the lily pads): the type of person you attract is charming and exciting to be around. they make you feel flustered inside, butterflies in your stomach, because they're so alluring. you're like a moth drawn to a flame. maybe their a little impulsive, but it's never too much, and it adds to their appeal. you probably spend a lot of time with this person in social atmospheres, like bars, clubs, or social gatherings. if you're a more introverted person, they try to convince you to spend time with them at these kinds of events. but they enjoy nights in as well-- they use it as a time to simply talk. they are a great conversationalist, and a great person to confide in. beyond their outgoing persona, they could be a relatively sensitive person deep down, and don't handle jealousy well. conversations with them regarding what both of you seek in a partner might be a way they try to hint at their admiration for you. once you're together, they'll want to brag to everyone about how great you are, and probably post you on social media often.

pile three (the florals): the person you attract is someone whose intelligent and mysteriously compelling. they are someone you've met before, who reappears in your life after a few months or so. they have a cool front, it's hard to read them, and they keep things to themselves, however deep down they are so immensely passionate. they're the type to yearn and pine for weeks before they ever make a move. because of their stoic upfront, you might not even notice their admiration for you, and may not consider them in a romantic way-- at first. because once they finally make a move, maybe with a bold flirt or innuendo, you realize what you've been missing out on. and the relationship, once it begins, is cool as fuck. they'll take you out on dates that have you try new things, that ignite your senses. their kisses and their touch practically set you a flame, you can't get enough of them.

pile four (the bunny):

the person you attract is so adorable and considerate. they're someone who expresses love through physical touch, in romantic and platonic relationships. they care so deeply for the people they love. they dote on you, making sure you've ate, that you got home safe, and that you're having a good day. they are a great listener, and this might be something about them that you find attractive. they love getting to learn things about you, interested in what you like, your hobbies, your goals, etc. they may struggle with admitting their feelings towards you, possibly having a fear of rejection or having bad experiences with love in the past. you'll likely have to make the first move, but once the relationship is brought to the next level, their doting increases ten fold. they'll offer to give you massages, make you dinner, and spend time doing things they know you enjoy.

please like, follow, and reblog for more!

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sidsinning · 3 months

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OMG I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING FUNNY.

Ok yknow how Valentino is based off a moth right

And vox is a tv

And TVs emit light

And moths are attracted to light

Val really looked at vox and went

LÄMP

Ain't no way 😭😭😭✋️✋️✋️

#hazbin hotel #vox #valentino #ask

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cybrsan · 5 months

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Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning.

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday?

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas.

It makes you sick.

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?"

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things.

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny.

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling.

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse.

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified.

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook.

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired.

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away.

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls.

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you.

Jungkook.

Your Astrom.

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal.

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination.

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky.

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications.

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face.

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious.

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer.

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod.

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room.��

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi."

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will.

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night.

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep.

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day.

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest.

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself.

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope.

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?"

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him.

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into.

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced.

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since.

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop.

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember.

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead."

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell.

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him.

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands.

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!”

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.”

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments.

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?”

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment."

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you.

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings.

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you.

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you."

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N."

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook."

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful."

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?"

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?"

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest.

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold.

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it."

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.”

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out.

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?"

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?"

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter."

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay."

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do."

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed."

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important."

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately."

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat.

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation.

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less."

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive.

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small."

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them."

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related."

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes."

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?"

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes."

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out.

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?"

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?"

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.”

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?”

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back."

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome."

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it."

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring?

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach."

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you."

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in.

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't.

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady.

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second."

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now.

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case."

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around."

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter.

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least.

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word.

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction.

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done."

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting."

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable."

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows.

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail.

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him.

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words.

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended."

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?"

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me."

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope.

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life.

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word.

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen.

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?"

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him.

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—”

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm.

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson."

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say.

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?"

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful."

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side.

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls.

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently.

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.”

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand.

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real."

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?"

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated."

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred."

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.”

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?"

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist."

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu."

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest.

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!"

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back.

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?"

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it."

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.”

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright."

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him.

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?"

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts.

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side."

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?"

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him.

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!"

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply.

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter."

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human."

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words."

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know."

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?"

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer.

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch.

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin.

"You aren't in pain?”

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break."

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?"

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe."

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like."

"I want to hear it again."

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest.

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire.

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you."

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs.

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words.

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire.

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure.

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—"

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together.

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm.

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please."

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed.

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over.

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—"

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth.

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too."

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you.

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you.

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words.

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him.

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep.

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much."

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones.

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down.

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly.

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say.

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am."

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go.

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment.

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean.

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits.

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you."

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook au #my fic #collab

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your-nanas-house · 19 days

Text

Big Daddy Elvis

◇ Pairing: Big Daddy!Elvis Presley X girlfriend!Reader

◇ Warnings: fat tummy worship, smut, handjob, insecure E, hairy body (?), established relationships, age gap (they are both off age), love, glimpse of silly Elvis

◇ Summary: Elvis wants to be intimate with his girlfriend since it's been forever since their last time.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

His blue eyes kept moving from a part of his body to another as he stood bare in front of the mirror of the huge bathroom. He used to weight less, be less shamed of his own body and even more active in the bedroom.

It wasn't like he didn't have any woman, damn... on contrary, he still had plenty of them swirling around him like moths attracted to the light of a lamp.... But he didn't loved himself like he should had.

"Honey? Is everything okay in there?" The voice of his latest flame broke his trail of thoughts, making his heart beat faster in slight panic and shame

"Y-y-yeah, Satnin'..." his low voice cracked as soon as he replied, making him curse under his breath while rushing to grab something to cover himself up.

A gentle knock and Y/n's muffled voice made itself hear from the wooden door again

"You don't sound okay, love. Can I come in?" She asked weakly not wanting to upset him or scare him for some unknown reason.

The young woman had sadly noticed Elvis' mood in the past days and she didn't want to add more stress on his shoulders, she loved him too much that even the thought hurt her.

"No, wait for daddy on the bed, little one" Elvis asked harsher than he intended, his shaky hands moving under the water of the sink in an attempt to calm himself and refresh his face.

It's been too long since he made love to Y/n, he honestly couldn't wait anymore... he needed to swallow his discomfort caused by his changing body and seduce her as only he could do.

It took him longer than expected to finally find the courage to walk out of the hotel bathroom and step in their bedroom, where the young woman was hopefully still waiting for him.

"There you are, E. You feeling allright?" Y/n asked softly not looking up, too busy fixing the food she got them and check if everything was there on the cart.

His careful steps and the soft noises caused by his robe dragging on the floor made her looked up bit worried since she received no answer from the older man.

His hair were wet, plastered on his forehead and bit messy since he probably ran his hand through it. He was trying to keep a poker face on but his beautiful eyes clearly showed the discomfort and sadness that he was feeling.

Y/n gifted him a small smile, pretending she couldn't read through him, as he started to breath heavier, his hands grabbing into something to keep them from shaking as his chest rose up and down. He couldn't back away now... not when she was all dolled up for him.

"Love that lil' dress on you, Satnin'... makes me feel things every time you put it on for me" he murmured lowly, his accent getting thicker just like she liked it; there was still insecurity behind his sweet blue eyes but it slowly faded away as soon as he saw her surprised and flattered reaction at his comment.

"Y-y-ya know.. I-I just need a glimpse at that pretty face of yours... and I'm already all fired up—" he continued, gathering enough confidence to step closer to her and brush his big hands on her arms so to slowly remove her robe.

His cold rings made her shiver just as much as his intense lustfull gaze; it all happened in such little time but the young woman's body was already reacting at him like usual.

His hands wandered all over her, resting one back up on the back of her neck so that he could tilt her head as he liked before moving to the next step.

"So y-you know how you always say that you like... love my belly?" He corrected himself, his voice coming out weaker than he intended and his grip got bit tighter as he squeezed softly her nape.... not daring to take a glimpse at his fat tummy.

Damn, he needed to distract himself or he wouldn't be able to act like he had planned.

A slight pull and his lips were now on her warm neck, leaving wet kisses on her vulnerable throat and feeling her heartbeat which boosted a bit his ego since it was increasing due to the arousal

"Remember... what you like to do when we lay together on our bed..?" Elvis whispered, brushing his nose against her ear to inhale her scent, which never missed to turn him on. Her locks tickled his face, making him smile softly as past memories of their after sex came back to his mind.

As his hands started to roam and rub her flesh, taking a hold of it to knead with passion and lust, he allowed her to slowly unzip his tracksuit and reveal his chest covered by thick dark blonde hair, lower his fat tummy was peppered with softer ones which got thicker right under his belly button and disappeared in the waistband of his pants.

"You like... to squeeze it, hm...?" His voice got lower and raspier, his heartbeat quickened and his skillful but shaky fingers removed carefully her last pieces of clothing so that she was bare in front of his towering form

"...And then you like to... kiss it, right..?" Elvis continued earning a lustful moan from the younger woman, who was getting worked up by the mere view of his naked torso plus his voice and light touch.

The King was not different, he was getting more and more riled up at the reactions of his girl.

Lust was slowly eating him up, making him almost act as an animal in heath if it wasn't for the warm feeling of affection caused by her love filled gaze.

"A-And then... y-you like to... gently bite it, right..?" The statement came out more as a whimper followed by a shaky breath, since her well groomed hands reached for his sensitive skin... playing teasingly with his chest hair while gradually moving lower

"All over" she purred with a sensual smile, her soft lipstick stained lips brushing against his warm skin, leaving open mouth kisses till down to his waistband.

As the young woman kept getting lower, Elvis couldn't hold back anymore the satisfied smile as he spoke back in a half-raspy, half-normal voice.

His finger twitched slightly at the strong need to just push her pretty face where he needed her the most, so that he could receive some well deserved friction

"Oh, yes... yes, all over... baby" he hummed, allowing a low groan to escape him when Y/n lowered carefully his sweatpants, letting them fall down his thick hairy thighs to his ankles, thus freeing its length.

Her soft huff right on his warm skin made him twitch, his half-hard cock swinged free now that it wasn't held by his pants anymore... since he didn't put any underwear.

Y/n was about to grumble something, since his dick nearly slapped her across the face when she took care of his pants, but she quickly stopped as soon as she heard Elvis' contagious and hearthy laugh.

A small smile appeared on her face and she looked up, biting her bottom lip due to the perfect view she had now on her kneeled position. The young woman was close enough to be able to see perfectly the roundness of her boyfriend’s tummy and his blue gorgeous eyes tightly shut in anticipation.

The mood from amused and playful quickly switched back to one filled with need and desperation to feel any kind of touch.

"You're so beautiful, love" Y/n whispered softly against his flesh, gently nibbling at his belly while her hands finally got to work, pumping a couple of times his cock before moving his foreskin and reveal his pinkish tip which was already leaking of pre-cum.

It didn't happen often that Elvis allowed her to worship him, expecially after the weight gain, so she didn't waste any time partially in fear for him to back away... or even shy away from her.

"So, so, so fucking sexy" she moaned out the loved filled praise, letting his big hand grab her nape again and press her eager mouth more into his fat while never stopping to work on his cock after spitting on her hand to use it as lube.

Her right hand started to rub his tip as her other hand worked his length from the base till she saw his body tense after some minutes.

His groans and praises got louder and his hips bucked forward to make her fist hit harder his base as she tightened her grip a bit around his lenght. His breath got quicker and he finally allowed himself to take a look at his girl, admiring with a soft blush on his cheeks how she shamelessly nearly made out with his belly while never stopping to pleasure him till he finally released.

It didn't stop there, though, her hands worked on his softening cock slowly as to not overstimulate him but to guide him through the orgasm and her mouth kept kissing, licking and worshiping his belly as if there wasn't a tomorrow, not really caring about the dripping seed and the messiness of the act.

#70s elvis #70s elvis presley #elvis presley fandom #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic

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maladaptiveobsession · 3 months

Text

yandere valentino x reader x angel dust

contains: reader w/unspecified genitals, gn reader, nsfw themes, noncon/dubcon, dehumanization, degradation, heavy abuse (brief mentions of physical violence, manipulation, sexual exploitation), dacryphilia, overstimulation

word count: 2,160

It’s not unusual for sinners to throw themselves at Valentino’s feet, but it is the first time the red skies of hell have thrown one directly onto him. The impact sends you both to the ground, collapsing in a startled heap.

He scrambles to throw you off, having every intention to rip you to scraps. Upon lifting your head, he suddenly has grander schemes in mind. His towering figure and lascivious grin send shivers down your spine.

“My, what lovely specimen do we have here? How kind of heaven to send a beauty like yourself directly to me.” His flirtations send blood rushing to your head, making your face grow warmer. You shyly break eye contact, swiveling your head to get a look around. Where is this place?

Valentino must notice your growing confusion and distress, interrupting your thoughts with a low chuckle.

“Welcome to hell, dollface.” Oh, you must be dead. You never thought you were perfect, but you never could’ve imagined you’d go to hell! Where did you go wrong? Suddenly thrust into hell with murderers, rapists, and monsters alike, you wondered if you could die twice.

“Don’t look so down, baby; you’re in luck! There’s no better demon you could’ve crashed into.” He goes on to introduce himself as a powerful overlord with a well-known and successful business.

“I’m feeling awfully generous right now. Why don’t you come work for me? I know just where to put you! You’ll fit right in! I’m sure my patrons will love you too.” He pauses to let you digest the information. “As my employee, you’d be provided housing. I could easily protect you from the creeps and losers on this side of hell. I’ll even forgive you for dirtying my coat! Sounds like a steal, right?”

He takes a long drag from a cigar that you're not sure where came from, then whips out a contract and pen.

“So, how about it, baby?”

Stranded in an unfamiliar place, you easily accept his kindness. As you take hold of the pen, something about his grin makes you uneasy.

If only you read the fine print. So began your life of torment.

What Valentino neglected to mention was that the “successful business” he ran was a porn studio. You spent hours doing photoshoots, films, and shows. Like Valentino suggested, you became his star attraction—the shy and delicate pornstar all of hell’s degenerates thirsted for. Yet they would never get a taste. Valentino didn’t share his personal toys.

Inexplicably, he couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted to own you the moment he saw your pretty face, drawn to the light in your eyes.

Even with your skin bruised by his fingers and your throat sore from careless treatment, you still desired his rough affection. You didn’t mind that he left you battered each night or his harsh comments when you couldn’t keep up with his demands.

You could even forgive him for cruelly allowing his customers to take advantage of you and fuck you back into submission.

“I said I could protect you; I never said I would. Perhaps you’ll think twice before disobeying in the future.”

You would do anything if it meant receiving his violent devotion.

Being the personal toy of an egomaniacal moth could never be easy, but at least you weren’t alone. You had befriended none other than Valentino’s former favored pornstar, Angel Dust. Despite your differences in character, your shared experiences created a bond neither of you could find anywhere else. Misery always finds company.

Angel felt conflicted upon meeting you. That bastard had finally found a new toy to replace him! His joy only lasted until he heard your voice, so soft and sweet.

Valentino would break you.

Angel dreamed of the day Valentino would grow bored of him and find a new toy to play with. Now that that dream was a reality, he couldn’t push down the guilt. Shouldn’t he feel happy?

There was nothing Angel could do to protect you, but he could give you advice on how to protect yourself.

“Just do what he says. The consequences aren’t worth going against his word.”

He hadn’t planned on getting so close to you; he had tried to scare you off with cruelties, but you never minded. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake you. He tried to keep his distance and went out of his way to avoid you. You must have taken the hint and stopped bothering him like he’d wanted.

He didn’t owe you anything, so why did your absence make him feel worse? Why did he feel like something was missing?

Angel found his answers not long after.

He'd followed the muffled sound of choked sobs to your studio, pausing outside the cracked door. Against his better judgment, he peeked inside.

He’s met with the sight of you huddled in your vanity seat, knees raised to your chest, and your face buried in your arms.

“Doll?”

You raise your head at the sound of Angel’s voice, rushing to wipe away tears. You greet him with the best smile you can manage.

How miserable you must look to him, with smudged mascara and puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry for bothering you so often, Angie.” With how hoarse your voice is, he suspects you’ve been crying for a while. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I just felt so alone, you know?”

He does. He knows better than anyone.

It suddenly occurs to him how much of an asshole he’s been. You didn’t deserve the shit he’s been giving you.

He'd put up walls ever since he signed away his freedom; he couldn’t trust anybody. He thought nobody could understand what kind of shit he’s been through, but then you came along. You do understand because you’re going through it.

You’re all each other has.

“Don’t cry for the bastard. He doesn’t deserve your tears.” You look like you’re about to apologize again, but he continues. “Listen, I’m sorry for being such a douchebag lately. You didn’t do nothing wrong. We’ve only got each other in this shithole.”

You smile brightly, unsure what caused the sudden change in attitude, but happy nonetheless. “Right, together, we’re not alone.”

So began your unlikely friendship.

Unfortunately, Valentino wasn’t nearly as enthused. His obsession grew to new heights when you befriended Angel Dust. This manifested itself in the form of longer studio hours and even rougher sex.

Seeing you get along on set made his blood boil. The final straw was the stupid grin you sent Angel’s way. How dare you flirt with that slut! How dare he grin back!

You both clearly needed to be reminded of your status. Since you liked each other so much, he would be happy to give his blessings. Why, he’d personally see to your union.

Later that evening, you found yourself back on set, blindfolded and gagged. The cold nipped at your bare skin. Valentino kept the studios cold to keep your nipples perked. The handcuffs keeping your hands pinned to the bed post provided little comfort.

The sound of the film crew setting up around you sent heat to your sex. You couldn’t swallow the feeling of disgust residing in your throat; how could you enjoy this? Even amongst the buzz of conversations, you could easily pick out the click of Valentino’s healed boots. You wait for the familiar call to begin filming, yet you do not find it.

It’s only when a pair of hands, strangely familiar, find their way to your chest that you realize the set began. The whole situation strikes you as strange, but what could you do anyhow? Nothing would change the outcome. In the end, all you’d receive for your curiosity would be a nasty bruise.

So you brush off your worries and focus on the sensation of soft hands groping at your chest, teasing your nipples. You can’t help but lean into their gentle touches; the familiarity comforting.

The way they glide across your skin—as if searching—you wonder if they’re blindfolded too. Shivers run across your spine as they spread your legs, the cool air kissing your core. The bed shifts as your film partner settles between your thighs, their hands never leaving you.

Fingers prod at your entrance, sinking in easily. Your head spins at the sudden intrusion. As they finger and stretch your hole, you struggle to maintain composure. Each motion was intentional and practiced. You could feel the slick gather below you in a thick puddle. Somehow, they knew how to work you just right.

Droplets of pre-cum smeared against your skin as their cock brushed up against your thigh.

Unable to wait any longer, you tried lifting your hips away from their fingers. You wanted more; you wanted to be filled.

Your desire clouded any creeping shame or embarrassment. You never wanted this; why shouldn’t you enjoy the pleasure being given?

The hand lingering on your hip stills you with surprising strength; another set of hands you didn’t know they had pushes your thighs up to your chest. Desire clouds your thoughts, never once questioning the owner of said hands.

They guide their cock to your entrance, driving it in without warning—the sudden stretch takes your breath away. Though easier to accommodate than Valentino’s, you still find yourself pushed past your limits.

Little time is given to adjust; their pace is rough but controlled. Waves of pleasure burn through you.

Your moans and pleas are swallowed up by the gag. Tears of pleasure and pain gather in your eyes, darkening the fabric of your blindfold. It hurts so good; the intensity building in your core threatens to snap. A particularly rough thrust sends powerful shockwaves throughout your body.

They shudder against you, their pace stuttering for only a brief moment. They were too busy changing their own bliss. You writhe against your binds as the heat within tightens once more, all too soon. Your pleas for clemency are muffled.

Valentino watches with great interest, languidly stroking his own length as you're brought back to the edge of pleasure. You were so sensitive and expressive.

His favorite slut being forced to use his personal toy wasn’t a sight he thought he’d enjoy. He’d initially been reluctant, only convinced by the masses demanding your collaboration.

Now he couldn’t wait for the reveal—to see the despair of fucking your only friend. Commanding his toys to fuck like dolls was fun; maybe he’d do it again some time.

He watched closely as Angel’s hips stuttered, pace becoming erratic, and fingers pressing deep into your thighs. The heat of his climax sends you over the edge. With your ears ringing and your heart pounding, you feel dizzy. Darkness swallows up your vision.

Valentino makes note of your limpness, suddenly struck by an idea. He strides over to Angel, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you flirting with my toy?” He didn’t miss the way Angel tenses. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Wasting no time, he wrenched the blindfold off.

Angel’s reaction is more than he’d hoped for. Horror and disgust flash in his eyes as he scrambles to pull out of you. He tumbled off the bed in his urgency and crumpled at Val’s feet in despair.

Angel can feel his stomach in his throat, panis rising.

“Aw, did you not like my gift?” Valentino mocks him, relishing in the pitiful display. “Well, too bad. Pick yourself up and get ready to do it again.”

For a moment, Angel is unresponsive. He has to do that all over again? He has to violate you? He can’t do that to you; it would break you.

Buzzing under the thick layer of disgust creeps darker desires: to touch and tease your skin, to sink into your warmth. To do it all over again.

He doesn't notice the way his dick responds, but Valentino certainly does. How unexpected!

“Holy shit, are you hard again? Does the thought of raping your friend turn you on that much? I wonder what your friend will think?” He can taste your fear and anguish already. “Let’s not waste any time, then.”

Angel's fear is palpable and thick. He doesn’t want to lose you. When you open your eyes, the little sanctuary you've built together will never be the same.

You should feel something, but you can only feel empty as your only friend splits you open against both of your wills. Averting his eyes, he rocks into you. Valentino’s voice hardly registers at all.

“Don’t act so shy, Angelcakes. Go on, fuck them with your eyes like you usually do. If I don’t see some eye contact, there will be consequences for your dearest friend.”

With your eyes connected, you can’t pretend anymore. This is happening. This is real.

You only have each other, but together you created a nightmare you can’t escape. At least you’re not alone—closer than you’ve ever been.

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blueberrypancakesworld · 3 months

Text

Stolen Soul and Love

Valentino x fem!reader

warning : flirting, some fluff, inner strugle, obsession, falling in love in Val's own twisted way

Summary : One more meeting with the Overlords of Hell and he would have loved to kill himself, but he couldn't escape the responsibility any longer. The meeting was made all the sweeter when his red eyes settled on something he had never seen before pure love.

Info : THANK YOU ALL for the heart om my first HH work it means a lot. I'm glad you all enjoyed it so much and hoep you have fun with my future works

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He was a pimp, one of the three overlords who showed their power more than clearly every day. He had everything: hookers, money, souls and power. He was perfectly happy, I mean, he had the porn star from hell Angeldust and the TV demon Vox's ass was practically his. Everything the moth-like demon could want was his. But why did he have this gnawing feeling inside him, like a growling, a chirping, a buzzing, like a moth, a fucking moth looking for something.

But what was it when he had everything but that one gnawing feeling inside him when he saw her. He was inevitably summoned to the Overlord meetings and for once he couldn't avoid it because it was probably about something important.

The three Overlords entered the room with an engaging appearance and the moth demon made himself as comfortable as possible in the damned narrow chairs.

The meeting seemed to begin, the reports were always the same, the souls the same and the danger the same. ,,Get to the point, Carmilla darling, some of us have a fashion empire to run," Velvette muttered, glancing up from her cell phone, which made Vox snicker, who was probably more focused on his ratings, which had dipped a bit due to his nemesis Alastor.

Nothing a fuck can't fix, Valentino thought, taking a drag on his cigarette and letting the engulfing red smoke billow around him before taking a puff across the room.

He kept his hands off the smiling radio demon, however, who had only given the three of them a quick glance, and had to hold Vox to prevent his cute TV head from cracking another one.

Letting his gaze drift, his gold tooth flashing in the light of the lamps and inwardly wondering which was the best setting for the next porno, he heard the door open. All the overlords were there, so it could only be one of the subjects and enemies.

And actually he wasn't going to look behind his heart-shaped glasses but when he saw that sweet smell he just knew something wasn't normal. It was the sweet irresistible alluring attractive smell and no one else in hell had it but him.

The red eyes searched first for a demon of lust perhaps, something powerful but no he found only a simple demoness maybe a little cat-like as the fuzzy ears on her head indicated but otherwise like any normal inhabitant here in hell.

But why did she smell so good? What was it that he felt that he had never felt? He watched her as she walked with a silver tray under her arm to the respective overlords to order a few drinks.

It seemed as if he could see she was neither a robot nor a slave but rather one of Carmilla's protégés dark silver white clothes a pretty dress but a little too long for his taste. It didn't lack class, which a little smoke can't change.

With a grin he waited in his seat until she came to him and blew his heart out to her. ,,Aren't you a sweetie?" he grinned, ignoring her superior's gaze and having long since forgotten the conversation and the meeting.

She smiled slightly and the moth demon felt his wings needing to flap, moving his fingers almost hastily across the table as he slowly came a little closer to her.

He was nervous, a fact that shocked him. ,,Pretty trick Sir Valentino... what kind of drink do you want?" she asked, not moving away from him and following the red smoke lightly with her eyes, which slowly settled around her but didn't seem to take her in. He didn't check her at a glance even though her sweetness was so close to him.

One kiss, one look, one lick with his tongue was enough and he knew what made her come. But no, he didn't. He just said, ,,Love potion with berries, dear" before the tall man stood up again, pulling back first and looking at her form from behind his glasses. This feeling inside him was something he thought couldn't be.

Nervous and twitchy...am I no or? his thoughts revolved around her at that moment and why his dark heart in hell still beat for anyone at all. Could it be, could it really be that the pimp and overlord could lose his heart to a simple demon? He didn't know, but the way he felt it was like back then.

He still vaguely remembered his former life of this body function when people fell in love. But he didn't have any more time to think about it when the door opened again after a few minutes and he saw that she had come back.

Several drinks were lying on the silver tray and he could just see his puinken with berries sticking out. ,,Thank you dear, say would you like to earn a little extra money, maybe even become the star at my side?" he smiled, shielding her from the others with his wings.

His hands slowly placed themselves on her shoulders, wanting to have her with him forever. ,,You're different from AngelDust, from the princess of everything here... you could be my star," he suggested, watching her red eyes as she slowly realized what he was alluding to, what he really wanted and what it meant for her. ,,Sir-Lord I mean Valentine I'm flattered," she stammered and suddenly he felt the arrogance return to him.

He knew demons knew that once they were so taken in, once they were flattered, it was easy, wasn't it? ,,And so beautiful," he complimented and let the smoke slowly close around her.

Carmilla may have taken her, but in the end you are mine, thought the demon as he brought the back of her hand to his lips, running his tongue over it in a surprisingly gentle, warm and inviting way.

He saw her embarrassment, how she couldn't pull away and didn't want to. ,,And do I have you?" he asked, coming closer to her and wanting her closer, not like Angel, but wanting her in a different way, always with him somehow.

Before he was suddenly pulled away slightly by her and landed back on his chair, ,,Hands off my employee Valentino!" Carmilla warned and Val raised his hands placatingly and rolled his eyes. ,,Not at all Carmilla, I only wanted to confess my unethical feelings to such a pretty creature," grinned Valentino, feeling himself turning back into the demon he knew.

Before he spread his wings in warning and walked past the overlords with a broad grin. ,,See you around, pretty," he murmured with a wink before his wisp of smoke announced his departure and the moth demon withdrew from the meeting.

With his very own recognition of this meeting. He had to possess this beauty in one way or another and he had truly fallen in love, one more reason for him to get her soul and her heart when she had long since stolen both from him.

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #hazbin valentino

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woniverse-writes · 8 months

Text

"Moth to a Flame (part 5)"

Bada Lee x Reader

part 4 ⟵ part 5 ⟶ part 6

series masterlist

word count: 6k

warnings: swearing, angst, y/n is a little psycho asshole in this chapter, but like- bada.... eeh scary, a lot of plot changes cuz I like playing the victim lol, not proofread, ending was kind of rushed, nothing i write is a reflection of anyone's true character and is a work of total fiction

Shortly after Rie Hata’s message finished playing on the monitors all teams wrapped up their fun and began heading back to the studio to begin preparing for the mega crew mission. They all dry their hair and get changed, reapplying their makeup to prepare for filming again, when the host appears with another message. He congratulates the remaining teams for surviving, and at the mention of Tsubakill’s elimination y/n and the rest of Jam Republic immediately frown.

Daniel continues to explain the mission and informs them that there will be three different concepts that they have to use, but the way they will be decided is by group discussion. On top of that team Bebe has the benefit of going straight for whatever concept they want without discussion. The three creative prompts consisted of ‘outdoor’, ‘structure’, and ‘all gender’.

“Ooh we could definitely do something sick with structures” Audrey perked up and her partner-in-crime nodded in agreement before speaking

“Yeah but honestly I think we could do well with any of these…” y/n countered smirking cockily prompting Emma to hum and hold out her hand for a high five.

“I personally feel like we should go for outdoors. I already have so many ideas for what we could do and I know some of you do too…” the leader chimed in, eyeing Ling and Y/n at the mention of other members having ideas. They decide to have their three creative directors be Kirsten, Ling, and Y/n and the three begin coming up with their own separate ideas, with the help of another member.

When the crew came back together after a few moments of planning and creative briefing, they all shared their ideas. Kirsten came up with the idea of showcasing the beauty of New Zealand since it was most of their crew’s homeland- she wanted to shoot on the beach and have the rocks behind them. Ling’s idea was to take more of an approach that would appeal to their Korean audience, by incorporating more K-pop dance styles and music and shooting in the heart of the city with all the lights in the back. Everyone really liked both ideas, but y/n’s quickly became their favorite when she explained it.

“Okay so this might be too much, and could easily get muddled- but what if we did a sports theme? Like- we each represent a different sport or activity while also representing our culture or background… each of us could get a highlight and we’d all have our “teams” that would dance in our own styles- then we’d all come together in the end as a sort of pep-rally type thing…” y/n finished off the basic ideas of her take, and everyone immediately either nodded or clapped, thoroughly impressed with how quickly she had come up with such an elaborate idea.

“And this is exactly why you’re here girlfriend- forever a genius…” the leader nodded and smiled at her youngest, clapping her hands slowly and appreciatively. It was an idea that could work with all three concepts so the team decided to mark y/n’s as the top choice as of right now.

When all the teams gathered to pick their concept Jam Republic and Bebe were the only groups that chose something other than ‘structure’, Jam Republic sticking to their outdoor idea and Bebe going with the all gender category. After the pink team explained why they picked what they did, it caused Deep n Dap to change their pick to outdoor as well, saying it was because they felt their crew could easily rival Jam Republic, which caused Kirsten to maturely and professionally nod, while y/n covered her mouth and snickered.

After Jam Republic has guaranteed themselves a spot in the outdoor concept, they head back to their team hideout and begin to plan out their ideas in full. Y/n already begins to map out choreography for her and Ling’s sections, while Emma does the same for herself and Audrey, leaving Kirsten and Latrice to pair up. The girls decided to head back to New Zealand and take advantage of the scenery as part of the expression of their members’ culture. It was a nice blend of y/n and Kirsten’s concepts.

______

Y/n and Bada hadn’t really talked much since they began preparing for the Mega Crew mission, both focusing on their team’s success. Although they still texted daily, sometimes it was only a quick good morning or goodnight, while other times they had fuller conversations.

‘Have a safe flight, text me when you land plz!’ y/n read the message right before she got on the plane. She felt her heart swell at the little gesture of care, hearting the message and replying with a selfie of her in the airport paired with the words ‘thank you lovey, I will <3’.

Jam Republic boarded their plane and took off from South Korea to New Zealand, with many plans already going wrong as soon as the plane was in the air. You see, they had just been informed of how bad the weather was in the area, then about how many of the dancers they called for wouldn’t be able to make it. Each member was responsible for contacting and securing 10 members to come dance with them, explaining how the show would be paying for their trip and all the dancers had to do was show up and give it their best. It started off really well, with each of them actually coming back with more than 10 dancers. Then the weather hit. Flights were canceled or delayed to the point where people wouldn’t make it in enough time to learn the dance. On top of that, their idea to shoot at the beach was totally scrapped due to the intense winds. With the major setbacks of losing over half their dancers and not being able to use their original scene, the girls had to redo choreography and practically start the whole project over.

“This can’t be happening…” y/n was the first to start spiraling, ever the drama queen- but this time it was very justified. All six members of the crew stood in a circle in the middle of the studio floor, eyes flitting back and forth between each other and their leader, who was staring at the floor deep in thought. Kirsten let out a huge sigh and crossed her arms tensely.

“I’m sorry girls… but I really don’t know what we’re gonna do…” the leader ran her hands down her face and let out another deep breath, turning away for a moment with her hands on her hips. At that moment, the youngest realized how serious the situation really was, seeing as her leader wasn’t presenting her usual calm self. Typically when there was an issue, Kirsten was calm, cool, and collected- even if it seemed unsolvable… she always had an answer no matter what.

y/n being the perfectionist she is, began racking her brain for any possible solutions, already feeling her lungs begin to collapse at the possibility of complete failure. On top of being a perfectionist, the young girl also had a pretty bad case of savior complex, feeling like she had to fix everyone’s problems, especially when there was no one else who could- even if she knew that she herself probably wouldn’t be able to fix it either (at least not without bending over backward and bleeding herself dry).

“No… no we can easily fix this-” all eyes went to the youngest member who ran off to grab all their notebooks and bring them back over to where the crew still stood. She spread them out, riffling through the pages until she found ideas they could use.

“We can still use the stadium… it won’t be as grand of a scale as we wanted, but that can still work. And- and we can make it related to New Zealand instead of all of our different backgrounds, so it’s easier to put together and less choreography to make up… we can fix this!” y/n was frantically and hopefully (delusionally) explaining her ideas, trying as hard as she could to bring the team’s morale back up. They sat down in their circle and began connecting the ideas, just hoping for the best at this point

Even though the Jam Republic girls were frustrated, they only let it fuel their will to work even harder. It crushed y/n a little to have to scrap her idea, knowing it would’ve brought them an easy win, but she was determined to make their new routine strong. The team had ultimately decided to keep the athletic theme but changed it quite a bit to highlight rugby which was a big part of New Zealand culture. The girls planned on dancing in the bleachers and on the field to portray a Friday night lights feel, or a game- since it technically was still a competition between them and deep n dap.

A few days go by and it isn’t getting any easier for Jam Republic. As much as they try to stay positive, the insane lack of dancers makes it hard to achieve the impact they’re going for. Y/n kept saying how they needed to keep trying to find more dancers, but Kirsten just wanted to focus on perfecting the routine with what they had. The young girl also kept mentioning little ideas and elements to add in order to amplify the concept they were going for, but again the leader was more focused on solidifying the present piece. Y/n ended up getting so frustrated that she would just randomly start tearing up and crying during their breaks, not allowing herself to stop for more than 30 seconds, grabbing a quick sip of water, and then immediately going back to practicing. She thought that maybe if she gave it her all, she wouldn’t be as disappointed in herself when she wasn’t satisfied with the outcome.

Of course, all of the girls were on edge but they at least were able to put it aside at some moments, still being able to enjoy parts of the process. y/n tried her best not to let her teammates see how anxious and worked up she was, but the girl was so overwhelmed with fear of failure that it would be impossible for anyone not to see it. Which is why it made everything so much worse for her when she continued to go through the rest of the preparation without a single person asking what was wrong. Y/n understood- really, she did. Everyone needed to focus on the end goal, and that meant there wasn’t time to deal with her feelings.

Bada was beginning to worry, seeing as the last response she had gotten from y/n was days ago. The girl had landed her flight and texted the Bebe leader immediately, letting her know she was safe, but also explaining the problems that had already arisen. They talked briefly about how the pink team was likely going to have to restart everything if the weather didn’t ease up. Then a couple of days later, they talked on the phone about the complete concept change and reboot of their whole routine. Y/n tried to keep her stress to a minimum, not wanting to be a burden to the other girl who was also beginning to get stressed.

It had been many days since then, and she’d texted the younger girl three separate times as well as tried calling her twice. Bada finally got a response the day before Jam Republic would be flying back to Korea for the midterm mission check, where they as well as the other teams would be reviewing each other’s practice videos of the choreography. It had been a somewhat longer text message reading ‘hi. I’m really sorry for not responding at all for the last few days. I know you’re probably just as stressed as i am, so I’m sorry for not being able to be there. Things haven’t been going good over here and I’m honestly really scared to present what we have… but I’m sure everything will be fine haha. How have you been?’

Bada felt her heart clench at the girl’s words, understanding why she wasn’t responding but still feeling a bit upset nonetheless. It hurt her to see y/n try to brush off her stress and redirect her attention so it would focus on caring for others instead of caring for herself.

Jam Republic arrives back in South Korea and heads straight to the studio to film their reactions and judgments of the other teams. They immediately make their way to their pink hideout passing by other crews, but not having time to mingle or really do anything more than smile and wave. The girls were exhausted from the flight, jetlag, and overworking themselves. y/n didn’t even realize team Bebe wasn’t with the rest of the crews when they passed through the lobby.

Bebe sat in their room, feeling more anxious than usual, a bad vibe floating through the air. No one could quite put their finger on it, but something definitely wasn’t right and it was causing all of the members to feel its effects. It officially came time for all crews to review each dance practice video. Each team’s video played one by one and the members had time to fill out the review cards before moving on to the next.

Bebe’s video played next and the reactions were not positive, to say the least. Everyone seemed disappointed by the piece as a whole, expecting something much bigger- the music was too big of a risk, the props were poorly utilized, and it was overall just too simple. It wasn’t a bad video- it just didn’t meet anyone’s expectations since they were all waiting for some elaborate project, knowing Bada was very capable of doing so. Shortly after, a similar reaction was felt while everyone watched the Jam Republic video.

“They don’t have enough people…” Mina Myoung was the first to observe the team’s lack of crew members. They even paused the video to count how many were shown, seeing 28, which was under the minimum limit of 30 people.

“It honestly isn’t powerful enough… it’s just not impressive” Buckey commented, crossing her arms over her chest. Yoonji sighed and frowned.

“This is so sad… I was really rooting for them” The girl mumbled, genuinely feeling pity for the international team, hoping they’d be able to pull through.

When it came down to voting for the team that should be eliminated, Jam Republic ultimately chose Bebe. They were originally tied between voting for Bebe and Wolf'lo, with y/n fighting her best fight to vote for Wolf'lo because it just didn't look entertaining to her and they had no story or plot.

"y/n…" Kirsten started off in a warning but gentle tone

"We can’t just not pick Bebe because of you and Bada… this is a competition babe." and y/n was kinda hurt by that because she knows how to be objective and she didn't even think she was biasing Bebe- she just personally didn't like Wolf'lo and thought they should be eliminated over any other team.

Then it finally came down to the results. Each team would be given a scorecard showing the comments and feedback they’d received from the others. One card would reveal the team voted as most likely to place first, and another would reveal who was most likely to be eliminated. When Jam Republic opens their card, it felt like all of the air suddenly got sucked out of the room.

“God DAMN” Audrey laughed humorlessly in absolute shock, as they all stared at the words ‘MOST AT RISK FOR ELIMINATION’ in big bold letters at the top. y/n stopped breathing for a few seconds and she’s pretty sure everyone else did too, seeing as there was not a single sound to be heard in the dressing room. The young girl once again tried to convince herself to think rationally, but couldn’t get past the anxiety and crushing weight of failure that was starting to fill her lungs. She wasn’t even angry, even though she should’ve been because she understood. y/n understood that they didn’t meet the criteria, and their dance simply wasn’t as put together as it should've been, especially in comparison to other teams/

What really got her emotional was realizing that Bebe- that BADA- voted for them too… it felt like such betrayal and she wore that shit on her face like usual. But still- she didn't feel angry, just betrayed and heartbroken, and really fucking disappointed. The more mature and logical side of y/n was still trying not to jump to conclusions because maybe it wasn’t Bada that decided… Maybe it was the same situation her team had going on- maybe Bada didn’t want to vote for Jam Republic but the majority of others did. Y/n truly did understand everyone’s reasoning, but that didn’t make it hurt any less, especially having Bada vote to eliminate her as well

“It’s gonna be okay lovey… I promise” Kirsten wrapped her arm around the youngest’s shoulders and whispered reassuringly to her as she watched her begin to have a mental breakdown. Moments later, the rest of the crew’s ranking was revealed, showing 1 Million in first and Jam Republic in last, but also- Bebe in sixth, the second to last place. Seeing this, Bada sighed and began to have her own slight mental breakdown.

Some teams celebrated their rankings while others sat quietly, reviewing the feedback and pondering what to do. Jam Republic sat in silence as Kirsten read over the comments. Y/n sat by her side with her head in her hands sobbing silently, so overwhelmed that she didn’t know what to do. The entire team was at a loss, and soon Kirsten started crying too, wrapping and arm around the youngest members, who finally let her emotions be shown to her team. The loud cries were the only sound in the room.

Y/n was able to calm herself down after about 20 minutes of crying. The poor girl felt so awful about how things were going feeling responsible for a lot of it- thinking that maybe if she had pushed her ideas a little more, or gotten in contact with more people, or even just tried a little harder, maybe Jam Republic could’ve done so much better. Even though she’s calmed down, tears still flow down her face without her even realizing it. Y/n was never angry at anyone else for their opinions, but now she’s feeling awfully spiteful towards herself. The youngest member was filled with so much resentment and self-hatred, that it immediately sent her into an inescapable depression.

The show writers and staff were cruel. So cruel for making these girls show off their inspiration boards and creative briefs live in front of the other teams. Each team explains their given concept and how they came up with the details to highlight what they chose. While it was much more of a relaxed environment (in the sense that there would be no feedback or ranking based on this), a majority of contestants were nowhere near feeling at ease.

The members of Jam Republic were able to build themselves back up and put on their game faces while presenting, except for y/n. She really did try her best to not look like she was about to cry at the drop of a hat, but it was no use. The girl was simply not herself. The small girl’s usually bright and energetic personality was nowhere to be found, not once cracking even a hint of a smile- even when Jam Republic received immense praise for their ideas. She didn’t find any enjoyment in the other crew’s presentations, although to be fair she wasn’t really able to focus on them- she just sat there in a daze.

It made everyone nervous to see Jam Republic’s youngest member like this. Her members noticed that she had become even more irritable than before- but now in a scary way that genuinely had them concerned for themselves and everyone else. The girl was calm but you could just feel the rage and depression and resentment radiating off of her to the point it made chills run down your spine.

_________

After every crew had shared their ideas and idea boards, they were allowed to go back to head back to their hideouts to discuss any adjustments or further plans that had to be made before returning to their projects. Jam Republic had to get right back on a plane in a few hours to head back to New Zealand and somehow fix their entire routine, again.

Y/n just finished walking up the staircase leading from the fight zone to the crew lounges, when she heard someone call out her name from closely behind her. The girl turned around to come face to face with the tall leader she had been talking with for the last few months.

“Hey, are you okay? I called your name like three times…” Bada questioned worriedly, her eyebrows furrowed and head tilted as she waited for the younger girl’s response, with wide caring eyes.

“...I'm just really tired” y/n whispered in the meekest voice possible, already feeling her eyes start to sting again, but trying to cover it up with a smile. Bada sighs and pulls her into a big hug, and surprisingly y/n doesn’t burst into tears. The girl continues to try as hard as possible to keep the droplets from escaping her eyes as she squeezes them shut.

“Look… I’m really sorry” the older of the two began resting her head atop y/n’s, but the shorter one felt her body tense at the apology already not liking where the conversation was headed. y/n let go of Bada’s waist and backed away, waiting for the older girl to continue.

“It wasn’t personal… the dance was still very good, and it’ll look even better with all of the ideas planned out!” she finished, referring to how her team had voted Jam Republic as the worst crew. Y/n’s face lost any emotion she had regained, looking empty and exhausted again, making Bada’s skin prickle.

“no, I understand” was all y/n spoke, already trying to disconnect from reality to save herself from crying again or making a bigger fool out of herself than she already has. But Bada is only more upset by the reaction, seeing as y/n just doesn’t seem at all like herself. The girl genuinely looks empty inside and no one on the show has ever seen her like this, in fact- no one in Jam Republic has even seen her like this and they’re all beginning to become extremely worried about her. And even though it’s clear the small girl just needs time and space, Bada decides to keep talking

“The vote was objective I promise, I don’t want you to think anything personally of it” At the end of the older girl’s sentence, y/n just felt the tiniest bit of a scowl make its way onto her face, feeling pissed off at the thought of someone once again thinking she doesn’t understand the concept of a competition.

“Obviously- I’m not stupid, this is a competition.” the harsh tone that comes out of the younger really throws Bada for a loop because she has never seen y/n speak to or about anyone like this- and it makes her feel sick to her stomach that her first time witnessing it is directed at her.

“I- no, what? Of course you’re not stupid! I just wanted to make sure… to make sure you knew. That’s all.” Bada started off a bit panicked and emotional but quickly was able to calm down and speak rationally, understanding the younger girl was known to have a bit of a temper. There was a long silent pause.

"did you decide on Jam Republic?" y/n asked a bit accusatorily

"Huh?" the older tilted her head, still absolutely confused about how this situation was occurring right now.

"did YOU, as in yourself, Bada Lee, decide to vote Jam Republic as the team to be eliminated, or was it someone else's idea…" There was silence for a moment before Bada sighed then pursed her lips

"We all decided-"

"but who's idea was it? Did you even argue it? Were you even thinking of anyone else? Or did you just immediately decide and agree that my team should be the next to go?" Bada didn’t say anything as she started to get a little frustrated, but she watched as y/n just scoffed at the lack of response and turned to walk away, rolling her eyes. Bada followed her and pulled her aside, a few feet away from the outside of Bebe's dressing room

"well you voted for my team as the worst, so how is this any fair at all?" the tall leader finally let her emotions take control of her as she shot back with much less frustration than her counterpart, but still irritated nonetheless.

"because I didn't want to vote for you! I fought to vote Wolf'lo over you guys because I know you don't deserve to go home! I understand it from an objective perspective- I promise Bada, I do- but that doesn't make it hurt any less!" There were a few beats of silence before y/n continued

"and it's honestly really infuriating that you don't think I understand that this is a competition-" she finished off quieter than before but still filled with annoyance and betrayal.

"WOAH- now when did I EVER say that??" now it was Bada’s turn to blow up

"Oh my god- you don't have to say it! You clearly think I'm just here to have fun and make friends!" y/n once again raised her voice, this time rising in pitch as well.

"Why would you say that??" Bada fired back and was immediately met with the calmest tone of voice y/n had spoken in since the argument began, and it terrified her.

"Bada- you haven't seen me as a threat once this entire competition… have you? Not to you, not to your team…" Bada stuttered for a second, completely blindsided by the argument

"where is this all coming from y/n?" the tall girl asked, genuinely concerned. y/n sighed and her eyes softened, shook her head.

"never mind" She turned and went to walk away, but Bada grabbed her by the wrist again and dragged her inside the blue team room, closing the door behind her

"you need to speak to me. You need to communicate with me what's going on right now because whatever you're feeling is totally valid- we had a rough day out there- fuck, we’ve had a rough few days, especially you- but that doesn't mean you get to take it out on me… so please tell what's wrong, so I can try to help." the older girl calmly and gently explained her thoughts and feelings to the girl in front of her, and y/n almost cracked. almost.

“I think it’s best for me to focus on the competition… building relationships clearly isn’t working out to my benefit" Her previously soft and watery eyes, had quickly cleared up within a few seconds, leaving her looking cold and unapproachable again. The response was petty and childish, y/n herself knew that, but she said to hurt Bada.

why do you want to hurt Bada? She was apologizing, why are you making this harder? You’re being childish and proving everyone right- you’re not fit for this competition, you’re too young y/n and you don’t know how to handle things when you actually need to.

The younger girl’s internal dialogue was emotional and resentful towards herself, but for once, the expression on her face didn’t show how she was truly feeling. The anger and hatred taking over her features wasn’t directed towards the older girl in front of her, which is what anyone witnessing the interaction would assume. y/n could feel her stomach churning and her face getting hot with embarrassment. She didn’t understand why she was acting like this and didn’t know how to get herself to stop.

It felt like hours had passed before Bada spoke again and when she did it was led by an aggressive scoff.

“You can’t be serious right now…” she challenged so calmly that it sent a chill up y/n’s spine, the younger girl’s resolve finally breaking down and it became apparent that she wasn’t actually as tough as she was trying to be. Bada could see the cold glare falter for a split second, watching as her eyes became full of emotion before the younger was able to reel it in again.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious? This is a competition and the only people I should be trusting are my teammates, I shouldn’t be letting my emotions get in the way of things…” y/n responded just as calmly. If anyone else were to be present for the interaction they probably would've froze to death due to how cold the two were being.

“Next time I'll make sure to vote objectively and solely based on what I see in front, instead of trying to think about who deserves to be here more.” she finished with an empty, tight-lipped smile, tilting her head feigning understanding, and Bada let out a humorless chuckle

“God- have you always been this manipulative?” it was her turn to try and hurt the other girl. y/n’s cocky grin dropped immediately and she straightened up entirely.

“Excuse me?” the younger girl furrowed her brows and scowled again

“You heard me…” Bada replied cooly and nonchalantly as if this were any other normal conversation

“I came to you, apologizing for what I did and your response to that is to start an argument- and THEN when you realize you’re in the wrong, you try to turn it on me?” the older girl finished, voice rising slightly

“I never turned it on you- I said how I needed to focus on the competition and stop being so friendly with everyone, how are you so self-absorbed to think that was about you?” y/n could barely even get her last word out before the other was shouting over her.

“BECAUSE IT WAS- it so obviously was a dig at me y/n, because who else are you close with? Huh??” the volume of Bada’s voice caused the younger girl to flinch, no longer being able to preserve her emotions. The tall girl took a few steps forward and leaned down, getting in y/n’s face.

“Who else can actually stand being around you…” shot after shot fired, Bada was doing a much better job at hurting y/n than y/n was doing hurting Bada. She wasn’t even thinking about how she used to tell herself that she would never be the reason y/n would be crying, and now here she is, feeling satisfied when she sees a single tear run down the girl's face. She wasn’t paying attention to how it sucked all the air out of her lungs and made her stomach turn in disgust, only noticing the minuscule feeling of satisfaction.

“I think it’s so funny how you say that, knowing damn well you get jealous any time someone even looks at me… you know better than anybody that anyone in this fucking place would love to be in your position-” and this caused Bada to let out a loud laugh of disbelief, backing away slightly before getting right back in her face

“Yeah? Then how come nobody even paid attention to you until I took notice… you know that’s the only reason you’re popular, right? If it had been anyone else, no one would’ve cared… admit it to yourself, nobody wants to be in my place y/n- they all wanna be in yours, so maybe think about how lucky you are…” Bada didn’t believe in a single thing that was coming out of her mouth, she honestly couldn’t even believe her own voice hearing how condescending and spiteful the words sounded as they left her lips. She could feel a slight ringing in her ears, part of her brain processing it as a tiny voice screaming at her to stop and that she was making a mistake. But the damage was already done.

Y/n was barely holding back tears anymore, pursing her lips and clenching her jaw did nothing to stop the flow of salty droplets from streaming down her face. Her nostrils flared slightly as she swallowed down sobs and tightly closed her eyes.

“I’m not having this conversation anymore…” she managed to get the words out without sounding horribly choked up as she turns away to leave, hand about to turn the knob as the older girl lets out another dry chuckle.

“Oh so now you wanna act mature? Let me tell you this isn’t the mature way to handle the situation anymore- you don’t know how to talk to people or resolve conflict, in fact you’re NOT confrontational at all, and are really just a scared little girl who’s all bark and no bite. You’re such a child- that’s all you are- is a FUCKING child…” it’s dead silent after Bada’s done screaming at her. Y/n turns around slowly and just stands there for a moment with a blank stare, then lets out the most dry, humorless laugh. It honestly scares the shit out of the older girl, eyes going wide and face paling, coming to her senses and realizing how fucked the situation was.

Y/n was smiling and laughing, albeit a little psychotically, all while still crying- she had finally snapped, and Bada was terrified. The girl in front of her could easily be a danger to herself, and possibly others in the state she was in, but all the leader could think about was how there was probably no coming back from this. The younger of the two just closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them and nodding at Bada with a tight-lipped smile, taking a deep breath.

“Okay” y/n smiles painfully as tears continue to run down her face- she turns around, swings the door open, and slams it shut as she walks out. The silence that followed was broken only seconds later as Bada heard the sobs that were almost immediately released by the girl who had just left.

y/n hadn’t even noticed the rest of Bada’s team standing around the corner, as she walked in the other direction to head back to her own room. Once she was far enough away, Lusher led the group quietly into their space seeing their leader sat on the couch with her head in her hands.

“Hey…” she speaks quietly, and Bada looks up with an empty look in her eyes, but tries to hide it when she realizes her team is present. Before she can even try to pretend nothing happened, the sub-leader was speaking up again

“We heard everything…” Bada sighed and felt tears pricking her eyes, disappointment and heartbreak finally taking over as she realized how fucked up the things she said were. The younger members sat around their leader and rubbed her arm or leg while they all watched with sad eyes as she sobbed. This was going to be a rough next few days.

notes: i'm so sorry...

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