#utter bullshit. I tried to be everything he needed but he never fucking told me what he needed

[norrisleclercf1]

Charlos request !!! Basically anything to do with Carlos not renewing with Ferrari

Maybe when the news came out or few moments of it coming up. I imagine Carlos being down about it before but then just being a little shit like the video with Charles where he’ll bring it up and make reader and Charles sad while just giggling himself

A/N: Okay I know you wanted fluff and you're going to get it, but first angst because Charles knowing this was happening before Carlos, *chef's kisses*

The plate slips out of your hands, when the sound of the door slamming vibrates everything in the household. Immediately, Charles is rushing out of his Sims room and looking at you with wide eyes. "Baby, what happened," You go to open your mouth but thundering feet pulls both your attention away from the glass around you.

"Is it true?" Carlos voice travels, you couldn't see him, but from the way that Charles's eyes grew you could only imagine what Carlos looked like now. Coming into view you want to step back, the anger was palpable, thick, and even made your throat tighten. You step back, but wince feeling the small shard of glass digging into the sole of your foot.

"Carlos,-" "Is it, fucking true?" Carlos gets right into Charles's face who doesn't back down, but you see the way his eyes are swimming with regret and heartbreak. "SPEAK! Goddammit you're Ferrari's golden boy, the chosen one, the Il Predestinato." Carlos roars, and your frozen.

You've seen the boys angry, but this was beyond anger, this was the form of wrath you've never seen. "Let's not do this now, Y/n dropped a plate and has glas-" "I don't give a fuck, answer me, goddamit, if you love me, even just a little bit, you'd tell me right now," Carlos's voice breaks off, his chest shaking, and throat bobbing like he's fighting to breath. "Carlos," Charles reaches out, Carlos stumbling back like he's been shot and closes his eyes.

Fists tighten, Charles braces himself, he honestly deserves it. "You knew and didn't tell me. You knew, and here I thought winning Singapore, the only non-Red Bull driver to win, would be enough. Why wasn't it enough?" Carlos chokes out, eyes shining with tears. "Why wasn't I good enough?" Charles doesn't answer, he doesn't know what to say.

"What's happening?" You ask, the boys eyes turn to you seeing your shocked and slightly scared expression. "Lewis is taking my seat next year, Charles knew. Since Canada." Your mouth slowly falls open as you stare at Charles with utter heartbreak. "Charles, what?" He drops his head in shame and looks away.

"I wanted to say something, but I couldn't." "Bullshit, you told Pierre." Charles physically flinches, giving away that he did in fact tell his best friend but not his partner. "You should've told me, and now I might not have a seat. The team now has to put out some bullshit excuse like I knew or something. You know what, 'm packing a packing a bag." Carlos scuffs and you move forward not caring about the glass.

Carlos is halfway up the stairs as you step and trip over yourself. "Carlos, no, ow, please don't." You cry. "Y/n," Charles moves and wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up and on a counter. "How could you Charles, does Ferrari really mean that much to you that you hide this from Carlos, from us?" Charles says nothing as Carlos jogs down the stairs.

"I'll be at Lando's for a while," You try to move but Charles stops you as the door slams closed.

------------------------------

Carlos and Charles were strained at best, you tried to get Carlos to come home, but he needed time to think things through and if Charles even really cared about Carlos. Sitting in the van on the way to the Bahrain track, you watch as the camera is turned on and they start filming the teammates.

You noticed Carlos was holding a little chili, with not a clue where he got it from he notices the camera blinking and chuckles. "Hey, I got something for you," Charles sighs and looks straight into the camera, "Tell me Carlos," Carlos chuckles and hands out the chili pepper. "I want to give this to you," Charles still looks dead into the camera, a tired expression on his face from the lack of sleep.

"From my fan, to me, for you." Carlos gets this slight smirk, and you watch the two hoping this was a symbolics an olive branch. "So you remember me for the rest of your life." Charles smiles gently and holds the chili pepper to his face. His eyes cut to you a small smile on his face. "A chiliiiiii." "For our post-teammate era." You hear Carlos start to laugh as Charles spins the chili around.

It took him a second to register what Carlos says and turns hurt in his eyes and looks ready to cry and even you move uncomfortably in your chair. "Come on, we're only starting the season." The two of them laugh but you can tell the hurt in both their laughs, "Getting emotional already?" Carlos teases, and you sigh knowing Carlos was teasing him.

What you hated was you couldn't tell if it was for the camera or because he was slowly forgiving Charles.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #f1 angst #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #charlos fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fanfic #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n

[lazycats-stuff]

Batfamily x male reader

Batfamily x male!reader - this is part 1 everyone.

Summary: some talking is done.

Warnings: angst, fluff, (Y/N) is trying and so is the fam, cursing, trying to forgive, a punch was thrown, cutting people out

The fight echoed through the manor. Even days after it, the tension was still palpable. (Y/N) truly wanted nothing more with his so called brothers and father. If they tried to talk to him, they would be ignored or (Y/N) would just snap at them.

Almost biting their head off.

Safe to say, things were going to complete and utter shit.

Bruce didn't even know how to start talking to (Y/N). Was he emotionally reserved? Yes. But will he try everything in his power to make it right?

Yes. Everything he can do, he will do.

Bruce has decided to call a meeting. He made (Y/N) leave his room and (Y/N) has never looked worse. He couldn't sleep for days on end, only getting about 4 hours per night. He wasn't in the mood to eat either. He was only alive because Alfred had to make sure he was still alive.

Everyone noted that he looked like he didn't want to live anymore. More so, he looked dead. (Y/N) just sat down, an angry look on his face, arms crossed and body language closed off. He sat down as far as away as he could from them, clearly not happy to be here in the slightest.

He tucked himself in the chair, ignoring everyone and everything.

" (Y/N)... " Bruce started quietly, clearly not wanting to have a blow out and an explosion. " We have to talk through this problem. " Bruce continued just as softly and (Y/N) scoffed.

" We know we have been... Neglecting you, to say the least. But... We want to fix our mistakes. We want to be better. " Bruce said and (Y/N) chose to roll his eyes instead of listening. No matter what they could say could ever fix this.

" Well... 10 years too late. " (Y/N) said sarcastically, tapping his fingers against his tucked up knee, clearly anxious to leave this room behind. He really was anxious too leave.

" And we realize that. " Tim started softly, looking at (Y/N) with a sad look on his face. (Y/N) wouldn't allow them to see them sweat.

" Bullshit. " (Y/N) said quickly. They don't realize shit. " You are only doing this because Jon came over and pointed it out and now you are worried that the word doesn't spread. " (Y/N) spat out, leaning on his tucked up knee, glaring that the floor.

" That is not true. " Damian said and (Y/N) looked up, glaring at Damian, scoffing at the words, then laughing bitterly.

" Oh please. You never told Jon about me! I'm assuming all of your friends don't know I exist, right? " (Y/N) said as he rubbed his eyes from the exhaustion.

The silence was the only answer that (Y/N) needed.

" Yup and there it is. No one knows I fucking exist! " (Y/N) said loudly, blood pressure raising. He took a deep breath to calm down. " Just as I thought. No one knows I exist. No one even cared about my school achievements either... Let me ask you something Bruce. " (Y/N) asked, turning his attention to Bruce.

" Do you have a college fund for me? Just like you do for other four? " (Y/N) asked, itching for an answer. When Bruce looked away in shame and (Y/N) scoffed yet again.

" Also, don't you fucking dare setting it up. I have got a scholarship anyway. " (Y/N) answered the unasked questions. Bruce was proud of (Y/N). How could he have done this to (Y/N), forget to put a college fund...

" I'm sorry (Y/N). I didn't mean to forget you. " Bruce said, keeping his distance, but wanting nothing more than just hug him and kiss the anger away.

But alas, that's not how it works. (Y/N) has to forgive him first.

" Can you tell us more about the scholarship? " Jason chimed in, wanting to speak about something that (Y/N) could be happy about.

" It's for MIT. " (Y/N) said quietly and everyone was in shock. They didn't know that (Y/N) was into science and mathematics and what not.

Another mistake of theirs.

" That's amazing (Y/N). " Tim praised, smiling at (Y/N). Getting into MIT is hard as hell.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, but deep down inside, he craved that praise more than life. But some praise won't erase everything that happened.

" You would really have to move then... " Dick said sadly and (Y/N) glanced at all of them. They all seem sad that he would have to move all the way to Massachusetts, but it would be necessary. (Y/N) needed to get out of here. One way or another.

" I think what we all mean to say is that we are sorry. There is no excuse, not a single thing that could justify what we did and what we have caused to you. " Damian said and (Y/N) was shocked to hear the word sorry just tumble out of his mouth like that, so effortlessly. So easily. But he composed himself quickly.

" How do I put his nicely? " (Y/N) said, looking sarcastic. " I don't give a damn about any of you. I don't give a damn about apologies at all. I don't care about any of you. The moment I move out, all of you are going to be dead to me. Period. " (Y/N) said as he quickly stood up, going to his room.

He isn't going to fucking listen anymore.

" No, (Y/N) wait! " Everyone called after him and tried to stop him. Jason managed to grab his arm, but (Y/N) threw a punch and knocked Jason down on his ass, making the others rear back. It was a truly what the fuck moment for all of them.

(Y/N) was never violent.

(Y/N) slammed the doors of his room shut and everyone was silent. Jason was breathing heavily through his mouth as (Y/N) broke his nose.

" He has a hell of a punch. " Jason muttered as he stood up.

" We have a shit ton of gravelling to do. " Tim muttered and everyone nodded in agreement. Saying that they are dead to him, well, will be dead to him, that was sort of a nail in a coffin. Coffin about their relationship...

That was probably on the brink of death, if not dead already.

" Come on, he needs some time alone. " Bruce said and ushered everyone out of the hall, mostly Jason to take a look at his nose, to treat it and heal it.

That same night, (Y/N) quietly managed to get his things into a car, while others were on patrol and blocked them in the process. Then he started driving to MIT, because he didn't have the nerve to put his things onto a plane and go. And besides, he didn't have enough things anyway.

(Y/N) could finally start his new life.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

[heartsofminds]

at least i let the light in (i).

"No one was more responsible than Bradley. No one was more reasonable than Bradley. No one was more mature than Bradley. No one else had life figured out the best they could like Bradley had. . . But no one knew how deeply sad Bradley actually was." or Bradley is on a downward spiral and Natasha doesn't know how much more she can take or the unofficial sequel to 'cause no one breaks my heart like you.

A/N: well guys, here we are! months after publishing 'cause no one breaks my heart like you, i decided to write my ass off and truly deep dive to the bottom of bradley's heart the best i knew how. while I'm not an expert and don't know everything, i am super proud of the work I've done and cannot wait to share more of it in the weeks to come. so for now, enjoy this small tidbit of the series and prepare yourselves to ride this rollercoaster with me! also, a special shoutout to jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me ramble about this and reading over the millions of screenshots and drafts I've been hoarding over the past six months! i could not have had the courage to continue to write this or publish it without you!

After - Three Months 

Maybe Natasha was mistaken; a phenomenon that did not occur very often. 

She’s one of those people who’s a lucky guesser. Precisely the kind of person who could say “fuck it,” roll the dice of whatever was being talked about, and always come out victorious, and if not entirely correct beyond a reasonable doubt, was as damn close to right as anyone else could get. 

But she’s not a boaster. 

Sometimes being right is embarrassing and she never seemed to like the attention it brought; making people roll their eyes when asked for her opinion or always lucking out in a money pool whenever a bet was placed amongst her friends. She likes being right but she doesn’t necessarily like the reputation being right gives her, so she closes her mouth, nods her head, and tries to put on her best poker face whenever a bad idea is uttered from the mouths of her colleagues. 

Watching people blow their own bullshit in their faces is comical and she and Bob get an absolute kick out of it whenever it's on Jake’s dime.  

But this time it isn’t Jake or Javy or Maverick or anyone she would giggle and be in stitches over looking silly and distraught. 

This time it’s Bradley, and from the iron flavor in her mouth from where she had been biting her lip the entire night, she knows that this is bad. 

This is really bad. This is super bad. This is fucking horrible.  

In hindsight, Bradley had a little bit of a problem. In hindsight, it was a stupid idea to let him have as much as he did. And in hindsight, it was downright imbecilic to let him get that wasted, play a game of pool with Jake (who loves to engage in smack talk), and not tell Jake about the breakup which resulted in Bradley leaping over the table and trying to beat the absolute shit out of him for making a joke about his girlfriend whom everyone else had yet to establish was now his ex-girlfriend. 

Maverick, who watched the entire thing go down from the bar stools, practically begged Penny on his hands and knees not to throw them out and she obliged but only after tasking Mickey and Bob with taking Bradley to the bathroom and letting him calm down in there before he was ready to come back out. 

And Nat knew that they all should probably head home and that Penny had every right to kick them out for the evening (and probably should), but she remained quiet while trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. Her careful eyes caught wind of Bradley’s incapacitated disposition as he stood slumped between Mickey and Bob as if he was an anchor ready to sink to the bottom of the ocean. 

Their gentle arms held him steady while their faces wore desperation. The chunky wet spot of acid on Bob’s pant leg told Natasha everything she needed to know and from the way Bradley’s head hung, he was down for the count.

If she was being truthful, Bradley had been down for the count for a long time; much longer than anyone had ever really taken notice of, and the seed of anxiousness planted in her torso only bloomed with each assisted step he had taken toward her. 

Natasha was mistaken, and letting him tag along tonight was an incredibly bad idea. 

“Hi, Nat,” he slurs with reddened cheeks and a boyish grin on his face. Part of him looks like the boy she had gotten to love like a brother all those years ago in flight school; way before the stupid mustache and the muscles and the “slight” drinking problem he’d developed over the past nine weeks. 

“Hey, dumbass,” she snides back. She’s so overwhelmed that irritation is the only feeling coursing through her veins. 

“We had a bit of an. . .” Mickey looks toward Bob who looks as if he’s about two seconds away from passing out, “incident in the bathroom. He really needs to get home, Nix.” 

She sighs deeply; the likeness of a sleepless night and a massive headache in the morning a premonition burning bright behind the heavy blinks of her eyelids. Her hands hold her hips and her shoulders slump. She and Bradley had ridden with Jake to Hard Deck tonight, and she’s sure that the debit card saved to her Uber account would not appreciate a twenty-five dollar fee for an eight-minute straight shot up the road. 

But asking Jake for a ride home after he’d been sat icing his left eye with a Heineken bottle isn’t ideal either. 

Her eyes dart to the watch on her left arm; an old Cartier with a white face and hands that were always ten minutes off the hour. If she remembers right, multiplying the drive time by two would get her an estimate of the walking time, and if they jay-walk on Jasper and Kinnecky, they could shave off four minutes and be at her front door in about- 

“Twelve minutes?” she looks up at the triad of men and flashes a small smile in the process, “Do you think he could make that long of a walk?” 

Bradley tries to straighten his legs to stand on his own, but his knees buckle before he can even put his full weight forward. He giggles to himself; the sound childish and carefree. He attempts to lean his head on Bob’s shoulder but slams his forehead down too enthusiastically and knocks heads with the sheepish brunet instead. 

“I’m gonna be so honest with you, I don’t think he can tell you what color shirt he has on. It’s a miracle he’s even standing right now.” 

Natasha groans and puts her face in her hands.

Fucking hell, Bradley. 

“Don’t be mad at me. Please don’t be mad. Don’t be mad,” Bradley speaks up. His voice is whinier than usual and it’s one of the few phrases he’s bothered to utter tonight. His weight still remains supported by his two friends and for a moment, she feels guilty for even being frustrated with him at all. 

The warm hazel of his eyes peer into hers and she can almost feel his sadness and solitude. Bradley always liked to operate like he was angry, but anyone who dared to get close enough to him knew that the anger was how he felt about himself; a mirage of explosives made up of pure loneliness and hurt. 

“I’m not mad —” 

“Oh my fucking, God!” Bob screeches. 

A slosh of yellow vomit exits Bradley’s mouth faster than anyone can manage to process. The warmth of his stomach acid mixed with the various types of alcohol he had shoved down his throat throughout the night makes everyone around them wrinkle their nose, and it’s in that moment - the one with Bob dropping Bradley’s arm in shock and Mickey being left to support his weight alone and succumbing to his friend’s heaviness sending them both straight to the floor in the puddle of puke - does Natasha accept the fact that this was a mistake and that Bradley had no business being anywhere but on a bathroom floor with a cup of water next to him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Mickey groans, his arms pushing himself up. He grimaces as he stands and examines his hands; the chunks of what was in Bradley’s stomach (which isn’t much besides alcohol, he figures) sitting warmly on his palms and making its way between his fingers. 

Bradley grunts from the ground and is almost an afterthought due to the catastrophe taking place in front of them. Javy and Jake jump from their spots near the pool table and help him up. 

Natasha can feel the headache brewing in her temples. She turns to look around and take count of all the watchful eyes. Even though she’s beyond mad at him right now, she always finds herself looking out for Bradley. After a quick sweep of the bar with her gaze, she figures that he’s not embarrassed himself too badly to never show his face around again. 

Her eyes catch Penny’s sympathetic look. She mouths an apology while Penny nods and slowly starts to make her way to the supply closet in the back. On her way out from behind the bar, she pushes Maverick’s head with her hand a little bit harsher than what could be considered playful, and Maverick simply gives a sheepish grin in return. 

“M’soooo tired,” Bradley garbles some more. His head hangs as if his neck isn’t attached to him. 

“No, no, no, no. You can’t go to sleep right now!” Javy discourages. He pulls Bradley’s arm tighter around his shoulder. The brunet is properly jostled and Jake grumbles beside him. 

Jake sends a sharp glare to his best friend at his sudden movement and for a second, he feels a wave of sympathy wash over him. It’s no secret that Bradley and Jake had been each other’s least favorite person for much longer than they had been friendly, but the fact that they can call each other that now - a friend - makes this taste so much sourer in the blond’s mouth now. 

“But I’m tired!” Bradley croons. His body starts to go slack again as if his bones were made of rubber. 

“But you can’t go to sleep, man!” Javy tries to reason. 

“Why not?” Bradley continues to whine. His eyes squeeze shut and he stomps his foot like a toddler.

“Because – fuck, dude – because you just. . . can’t!” 

“Why,” his foot resounds on the ground to punctuate his word, “Not!” The force of its landing causes him to stumble back a little despite the hunkering support on both sides of him. The room spins slightly and he chokes back a gag. 

“Penny hates sleepers and you’re already skating on thin fuckin’ ice with her,” Javy snaps, “I suggest that if you don’t wanna lose a hangout spot, you try and get it together.”

Bradley attempts to mock him, but the effort it takes to remember what was said proves itself too great. He gives up after his third attempt at unscrambling his words and instead sticks his tongue out. 

A frustrated puff of air leaves Jake’s mouth before he turns to Natasha. The face he makes is something Nat likes to call his “bitching face,” which everyone knew he made when he had something to say (which was all the fucking time, so he would often argue that it was just his face). She rolls her eyes to mentally prepare for the bullshit that’s about to come out of Hangman’s mouth. 

“So what’s your plan, Phoenix?”  

She hadn’t expected for his statement to be so tame, and for the first time tonight, the pressure of having to be right pinched her nerves like a thorn. For once in her life, she doesn’t really have a plan, and the realization startles her. 

“Shit. I – I don’t know–” she stammers. 

She feels a sharp pain in her thumb and glances down to see the side of her nail torn to shreds and spewing crimson. She curses herself internally. Picking anxiously at her skin was a habit she thought she had kicked after flight school. 

Jake’s lips form a straight line of dissatisfaction with her answer. Bradley utters something incomprehensible to the sober ear and Javy shakes his head, pretending to understand what the brunet is saying when he truly has no clue if it was even English. 

“I don’t feel good.” 

Despite the confession being whispered, the world stops turning as if it were screamed from the rooftops. Bradley’s face pales. Javy can feel his chest squeeze with a sense of dread. Jake’s grip on his friend’s shoulders tightens. 

“I need you to tell us what we’re doin’ before he starts blowin’ chunks everywhere!” 

Natasha just stands still with a God’s eye view of the scene unfolding in front of her. Had you gone back in time and told her this would be her life three months ago, she’s positive she would’ve laughed in your face. 

No one was more responsible than Bradley. No one was more reasonable than Bradley. No one was more mature than Bradley. No one else had life figured out the best they could like Bradley had. 

But no one knew how deeply sad Bradley actually was. 

And no one knew that this is exactly where that deep sadness would land him. 

“What’s the plan, Phoenix?” Jake’s voice booms and bounces around in her ears. 

Her hands come up to push the flyaways from her French braid back. Natasha’s face feels hot and the mugginess of the bar feels like a wet paper towel trapping her movements beneath its paper tendrils. 

Think. Think. Think. Think! 

“You need to make a decision –” 

“I don’t fucking know!” she screeches. 

Time stands still and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. 

Penny whips her head around to see the commotion; her eyes wearing worry. Bob straightens his back due to her sudden change in cadence. Javy shifts uncomfortably on his feet. Mickey and Rueben give each other wide-eyed looks while Jake’s lips mold themselves even further into a straight line. 

Even the music playing over the speakers seemed to quiet down. 

It all makes her want to cry. 

Her breathing is rampant and her heart beats raucously inside her ears. Her pulse is in tune with it and she can feel the blood coursing through every single vein in her body. Her hands shake and her body feels electrified from all the adrenaline. 

Making a choice isn’t doable right now. And making the right choice is a task that remains an unsolvable dilemma with a bright red “danger” sign at its conclusion no matter the option. 

“Fine,” Jake grumbles. He turns his body slightly to face Javy. “He’s comin’ with me.” 

Javy widens his eyes; his thoughts formulating what he wants to say before he can even come up with the words to express it. “He can’t even stand straight. How in the fuck are we gonna get him into that stupid ass lifted truck –” 

“Can you just shut the fuck up and help?” 

Javy rolls his eyes and lets out a puff of air that he hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Jake is lucky that they had been best friends for over a decade and Bradley even luckier that Javy has a soft spot for him. 

Natasha’s mouth feels stuffed with cotton and her limbs molded by concrete as the two men breeze past her to lead Bradley out of the front doors of Hard Deck. She could almost convince herself that the entire scene was a dream had it not been for the whiff of cologne and the slight tang of Bradley’s vomit hitting her nostrils as they walked by. 

She slaps down a fifty-dollar bill on the bar top near the cash register before jogging into the sandy parking lot with the sky-painted indigo and violet above them. 

By some miracle, Bradley is dragged (not without any hiccups or the impending fear that he would start projectile vomiting everywhere) all the way to the floor of the backseat of Jake Seresin’s black Ford F-150. 

“Lard ass,” Jake mutters as he slams the door of his truck closed. Javy slides into the backseat with Bradley and another hollow sound of metal shutting can be heard. 

Jake rips open the front passenger door for a meek Natasha, whose arms had yet to move from their crossed spot over her chest. Despite the dry summer heat nipping at her body and her damp arms showing evidence of her sweating, she feels cold. 

Shocked. 

Numb, is the word she’s looking for but can’t seem to find. 

Her thumb rubs over her watch band and her purse hangs stagnant near her belly button. She looks as if she had seen a ghost. Her fingernails leave small scratches where blood had been drawn from her nervous picking. 

Jake swats at her hand gently; telling her to let go. Telling her that this is okay. That this is under control. 

That she needs to let go and let him help. 

They stand silent in the hollows of the bar’s parking lot and Natasha can recall very few times where she had felt like this. 

There was a weariness that grew in her whenever she told her dying grandmother that she would get to see her walk the stage at her high school graduation. There was a need for protection when she had broken up with her boyfriend before getting her first deployment assignment. There was a loss of hope whenever she looked at Bradley’s pleading eyes in her living room tonight, begging to let him tag along and carve out what he wants to say but can never manage to utter; “I’m lonely and I need help.” 

Dread. 

Impending doom. 

Knowing the outcome despite trying to convince yourself that if you pray hard enough or ask God kind enough or are a good enough person or try your best or whatever the fuck you believe in doing – that this will work out and that you’ll come out on top. 

But all that does is set you up for your grandmother to die two nights before high school graduation and for your boyfriend of three years to admit that he was cheating on you for two and a half of those. 

All it gets you is a drunken best friend with demons and night terrors that still swallow him whole with fear despite sleeping on her living room couch and being thirty-seven years old. 

“You coming?” Jake’s voice cuts through her downward spiral of thoughts. 

She gulps down her feelings of decay. She makes a mental note to bring this up to her therapist this week even though she knows she’ll skate around it and they won’t get to unpack it for at least three more sessions. 

“Y– yeah. I am,” she wipes at her forehead with the back of her hand, “Thanks.” 

Jake gives a sharp nod of his head to her. Despite being a major shit-talker, he doesn’t really have much to say outside of the realm of having a good time or riling up some trouble. 

He and Natasha aren’t close by any means of the word, but his appreciation for her had doubled the size since seeing all that she goes through dealing with an obliterated Bradley. Most friends don’t stick around like she does. 

He sure as hell wouldn’t. 

She throws herself up into his passenger side seat and closes the door before Jake can get to it. He’s already taking her and Bradley home, she figures. He can’t keep doing favors for her. 

But then maybe shutting my own door is rude. 

And then the thought spirals into why she doesn't think anyone wants to do nice things for her and how she’s undeserving of the good deeds she’s been dealt and then realizes that this thought pattern can wait because there are much bigger problems in her rear view. 

Natasha turns her head to peer into the backseat. Bradley lays with his head in Javy’s lap and his legs folded in some miraculous knot. Javy doesn’t seem to mind and sits with his arms spread across the backs of the seats; scrolling away on his phone and checking his March Madness bracket to see exactly how much money he should be collecting at work tomorrow morning. 

“How’s he holding up?” 

The sound of her own voice surprises her. It comes out soft. Less assured. Less assertive than it usually does. She thinks that she sounds like her mother in a way before she discards the thought. She’s always hated the sound of her mom’s voice and – 

Bigger things, Nat. Way bigger things. 

Javy lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “Pretty shitty,” he looks down from his phone and turns his neck to the side, “Can’t even hold that big ass head up on his own.” 

Natasha lets out an airy snort. Her eyes continue to drink in the sight of the two men behind her before her attention snaps to the sound of Jake climbing into the driver’s seat. 

He lets out a soft groan before shoving his key into the ignition and the engine roaring to life. His hand finds the button for the stereo and clicks it off before any sound can come from it. 

“How you holdin’ up back there, ‘Yote?” he asks, right arm behind the back of the passenger seat as he begins to back out. He whips the gear into drive and guides the wheel with the palm of his left hand. 

“Haven’t had to play EMT yet if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Jake’s eyes catch Javy’s face in his rearview mirror. The idea of saying something sarcastic crosses his mind, but he doesn’t indulge in it; not now when shit has hit the fan and there’s seemingly no end in sight. 

There’s a time and place for his snide comments, he thinks. 

See, I’m learning. . . .God, these people have made me soft. 

He wrinkles his nose and checks his periphery for Natasha. She sits solemnly at his side like a child who knew they were in for it once they got home. Her hands sit in her lap; fingers busied doing God knows what (probably picking, Jake would guess, but he’s too focused on trying to get everyone home without someone dying to actually look to confirm). Her mouth is set in a deep frown and her face competes with the moon for how pale it is. 

Jake had never really looked at Natasha before, but he’s seen her enough in quick glimpses and fond flashbacks to know that she’s never appeared this hollow. 

Something is weird. 

Something is off. 

Something is wrong, and Jake starts to wonder how anyone could have missed it at all. 

He opens his mouth to comment on it before he’s interrupted. 

“Turn left up here,” she whispers. Jake has to blink a few times to prove to himself that he had actually heard her voice come out like that and hadn’t dreamt it up. 

A simple nod and a turn much wider than he would have liked it to send them to the driveway of a charming California bungalow. Natasha’s car sits outside the garage parked next to the God-awful and constantly falling apart Ford Bronco that everyone and their mother knows belongs to Bradley Bradshaw. 

Jake fixes his wheels to be parallel to the lip of Natasha’s drive before throwing the vehicle into park and killing the engine. He throws the door open and hops out to help Javy pull Bradley’s deadweight out of the truck to take him inside. 

“Up you get, dumb fuck.” 

Bradley lets out a soft groan before being fixed across both men’s shoulders. His feet drag on the ground and his eyes remain closed. His brain is absent of any thoughts and the possibility of him remembering a single detail about this tomorrow is slim to none. 

Natasha jams her house key into the lock and switches on the hallway light. She doesn’t bother taking off her shoes before she’s turned the corner to her kitchen to fetch some Ibuprofen and a glass of water. Javy and Jake silently struggle behind her, and she tries to ignore their hushed comments of “Oh shit!” after a loud thud fills the house, which she presumes to be them accidentally dropping Bradley on the ground. 

Her feet feel like they’re stuck in buckets of cement as she stands before her kitchen sink; idly watching the air pocket bubbles of water fill the glass she holds beneath the faucet. The thought of getting Bradley water from the Brita filter in her refrigerator briefly crosses her mind, but then she remembers that she’s angry with him, and at the very least, he doesn’t deserve filtered water. 

It’s a childish attempt at getting even, she knows, but she can’t express her annoyance any other way without feeling as if she was a raging bitch. 

Her hand mechanically slaps the lever on the faucet to shut it off and her throat tightens when she hears the sound of her coffee table being scraped across the floor and Bradley mumble a whiny “Ouch!” 

Natasha takes a deep breath and attempts to count to ten. 

One. Bradley is okay. Two. Bradley is okay. Three. Bradley is okay. Four. Bradley is okay. Five. . . He’s fucking killing himself and you’re not even trying to help. Six. What kind of fucking friend are you? Seven. You should be ashamed of yourself. Eight — 

With a wobbling lip and starry eyes, she forces herself out of her kitchen and into her living room where she finds two of her friends huddled around her other one; trying to position him on his side so that he can properly fall asleep. 

“You fucking – you fuckin’ dropped me!” Bradley cries, his limbs flailing around like a baby’s. 

Jake rolls his eyes. “Don’t cry over spilled milk, Bradshaw,” the lightbulb to say something shitty goes off in his head, “. . . S’not even milk you’re gonna remember spillin’.” 

Bradley wordlessly slides himself deeper into the couch and smushes his face up against a throw pillow. Natasha watches from behind and makes a mental note to go ahead and plan on taking that pillow to the cleaners tomorrow. 

It would be by God’s grace if she came to the living room in the morning and the cushion was absent of vomit. 

“Don’t be a dick, Hangman. He’s already down bad enough as it is,” she speaks, brushing past him to set the water cup down on the coffee table. Her fast hands move the small waste basket hidden by her lamp near Bradley’s head. Her palm lingers on his head; fingertips ghosting the space where his hairline meets the back of his neck. 

She sits down on the loveseat adjacent to the couch with a ‘plop.’ All that can be heard is the buzz of the cicadas outside and the anchoring, rumbly snoring exiting Bradley’s mouth. Javy shifts his weight between his two feet. Jake chews on his lip. 

No one speaks. 

The elephant in the room has gotten harder to ignore. 

Natasha senses the ball forming in her throat before she feels it; the scary, dark monster of angst that everyone seems to want to will away. Its claws dig themselves deep into the crevices of her throat and tear every part of her to shreds. The stinging prickling of her eyes becomes harder and harder to blink away. Her nose begins to run; leaking the secret anguish she had been keeping to herself for months. Her limbs feel as if they had been injected with pure lead and she can’t will herself to move. 

Because this is it. 

This is the end. 

This is the official cry for help that she had never wanted to make. 

It’s crazy, she thinks, how your body can betray you even harsher than your worst enemy could. 

Jake knows she’s crying before Natasha knows she is. Growing up with four sisters gave him a special radar for hidden emotions. The knowledge startles him a bit because never did he ever think that she had it in her to be so. . .broken. His eyes widen when her chest begins to wrack with sobs.

He and Javy share a wide-eyed gaze as if the scene playing in front of them could be any less real. Both men had never been great at comfort because they never had to deal with it, and as she tries to stifle her cries in an attempt to not wake Bradley and to not freak out Javy and Jake, she wonders if the anger she holds in her heart for Bradley makes her a bad person. 

It’s insane, she thinks, that in one of her darkest moments, she can’t help but be horrified of being an awful human being. 

All she had ever known was sacrifice and she can’t help but want to throw in the towel. To stop fighting so hard. To stop caring so much. To stop loving so deeply. 

But she can’t. 

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. 

And thus the tears continue to fall while she wipes furiously at her eyes. Through a blurry lens of reality, she looks down and sees marbled red between her fingertips, but says nothing. The metallic stench of her own blood dripping out of her nose isn’t enough to stop her frenzy of thoughts beating her feelings into those of self-doubt. If anything, the blood attracts the emotions of worthlessness like sharks to live bait. 

“Shit,” Jake hisses. The sound of his boots tendering his steps toward her makes her cry harder. “Shit, shit, shit. It’s okay. It’s alright.”

 His hand moves in slow motion to reach out and touch her, but he snatches it back before it makes contact with her body. 

Although he’s good at detecting sob fests, he’s never been good at resolving them.

“Holy shit, that’s so much blood,” Jake whispers louder than he intended. He sits on his knees in front of her and tilts his head to both sides of her face to get a good look at the geyser of blood spewing out of her nose. 

Javy sends daggers toward him before making a plan in his head. “You take her to get cleaned up,” he instructs, “I’ll stay with tilt-a-whirl to make sure he actually makes it to the trashcan.” 

Jake opens his arms in offense and opens his mouth to make a complaint before Javy stops him, “Blood or puke, dude. Your call.” 

The blond’s lips form a straight line before he quickly makes a decision. He ushers Natasha up and gently guides her to the bathroom down the hall. She can barely see with the rate of tears building up in her eyes and though she would rather die than show weakness, the vulnerability sat revealed on the cushions of her loveseat. 

There is no tough guy act available for her use anymore. 

As she sits on her toilet seat lid with her head tilted forward over a wastebasket, she determines that Jake Seresin isn’t the most atrocious thing she has ever encountered and has a slight appreciation for his detached demeanor. 

He doesn’t ask any questions. He doesn’t push her to say anything. He’s more than content with the silence and sits on the ledge of her bathtub with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs. 

In any other circumstance, they would be ripping the other a new one; trying to embarrass each other by coming across the other’s faults with a fine toothcomb. In another world, Natasha is somewhere teasing him about being a softy. In another world, Jake is rolling his eyes at whatever she was saying and dismissing it with a nasally, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” In another world, he never sets foot in her house and in another world, she doesn’t fall apart at the seams like this. 

But in this world, the one with an entire box of bloody Kleenex filling the waste basket she has her head over, they don’t say anything because they truly don’t need to. 

The thing no one tells you about hating someone’s guts is the way that you’re so accidentally in tune with them. 

You know how they think. You know what nasty little habits they have. You know exactly what makes them tick. 

And you know precisely what faces they make when they want you to spill your guts. 

Natasha tries her hardest to ignore his wandering eyes and looks down at the mess beneath her instead. She can feel his stare slicing through her body; layer by layer: skin, fascia, muscles, organs, bones, and all. 

“He’s been putting vodka in his coffee every morning.” 

Jake quirks his eyebrows together. His stomach drops at the idea of what her admission may reveal. 

“I suspected it for a while. He’s never been a Yeti cup kind of guy,” she lets out a sarcastic laugh, “So one day I went over to his desk and took a sip. I figured he wouldn’t mind.” 

She shifts uncomfortably and her tears begin to slide down the apples of her cheeks like a waterfall once again. 

“You know the shitty part about being right no one ever tells you? That it applies to dumpster fires too. Like, I didn’t wanna be right about my best friend drinking on the job but. . .”

Silence fills the air. Jake’s heart starts to race. This can’t be good, he thinks. This isn’t good, he knows. 

“But?” he leads, leaning forward more to make sure that his ears don’t miss a single word that falls out of her mouth. 

“Went by his desk every day for a week straight and sniffed his cup. I was right.” 

Night and day pass before Jake can let the idea – no. The fact that Bradley had been showing up to work drunk settle in his stomach. It spreads like a thick goo that he can’t swallow down. 

“How long?” he asks quietly. Gently, like a parent whispering as they hold their sleeping baby to their chest. 

She licks her lips. The wetness of her tears help mend the dryness her mouth had encountered. 

“Three months.” 

The admission is dropped like a bomb. The effects of both of them knowing changing the intricate thread of life as they know it instantaneously. Jake’s chest starts to heave with a feeling that he doesn’t recognize. 

Hurt. Anger. Disgust. Care. Sympathy. Hatred. 

All of these things that he has never felt at one time. All of these things that he doesn’t have a name for. 

His mouth moves faster than his brain. “You know you have to report him.” He says it with such finality and although he knows it’s the right thing to do, it certainly isn’t the right thing to say. 

Natasha narrows her eyes at him. “You think I haven’t thought about it? You think it’s just that easy?” she scoffs, anger making her cheeks crimson red, “Fuck you, Jake!”

He knows that he shouldn’t take any offense to her words, but the weight of the events of tonight has taken a toll on him, and her words plant a seed of irritation in his heart. 

“He’s coming to work drunk, Natasha! Screw me for wanting to keep people alive.” 

She takes a deep breath. Her knuckles whiten around the rim of the trashcan she’s holding as a means to try and calm herself down. 

“Look,” she speaks through gritted teeth, “I know this is horrible –” 

“Horrible? Just horrible?” his words sound sharper than he intended them to be, “Horrible is your dog dying or losing a bet or staining your white couch with a fucking nosebleed.” 

A sarcastic laugh leaves his mouth as he stands up to leave the bathroom. “He’s gambling with life, and he of all people should fucking know better.” 

“Because using the dead mommy and daddy card against him is soooo fucking rich, Jake. What else is new? Huh?” She shoves the wastebasket to the side and stands up to look him in the face. 

“You gonna pull the dead grandma card on me? Cheating ex-boyfriend? Oh let me guess. The female pilot who belongs in the kitchen and not the Navy?” With each word, she gets closer and closer to him. 

“Don’t let the fact that I have a heart and actually try to do the right thing make you forget that I’ll fuck your life up beyond repair. You’re absolutely the last one to talk about gambling with life when you tried to kill your team and didn’t even feel an ounce of sympathy. Being number one means nothing when you kill all your competition, fuck face.” 

The dried blood around her nostrils leaves a scarlet film in its wake. Jake takes a few deep breaths to remind himself to calm down. He knows that she’s right. He knows that he hasn’t quite redeemed himself. He knows that despite everyone having a chummy attitude with him, he is still considered a person who cannot be trusted. 

Because he does bail. He does cut people down to make himself feel better. He does eliminate his problems instead of facing them. 

“I know that he’s your best friend. I know that he means the world to you, but what he’s doing is dangerous, and you helping him hide it will only bite you in the ass in the long run,” he exhales softly, “You need to tell.” 

She rolls her eyes and reaches past him to flip the light off. She stomps past him back into the hallway that leads to her living room. 

“You still don’t fucking get it. You’ll never fucking get it!” 

Her gaze finds Bradley sleeping softly on the couch and Javy curled up on the loveseat fast asleep before she decides to lower her voice. She turns on her heel to face Jake once again and takes a deep breath to calm herself down. 

“You don’t have to get it or understand or even pretend like you give the smallest ounce of a fuck about him, but I do. I care about him so fucking much, Jake. And I know that it’s fucked up and I know that I’m not doing the right thing, but I can’t rat him out because betraying him when he’s like this would hurt him even more than getting in the cockpit wasted.” 

“Nat –” 

She holds up her hands to his chest and distances herself from him. The tears start to form again and she wonders if she’ll ever stop crying. 

“I can’t take this away from him. I can’t take the only thing he has left away from him and you can’t make me. . . . Because this time, he might just hate me enough to dig the hole so deep that he won’t be able to climb back out.” 

The collage of versions of Bradley she had gotten to know and love so well over the years of their friendship blind her with sorrow and sadness. She truly knows him in a way that no one else ever will, and while part of her takes pride in that, another part of her wishes there was someone else to help share the load because she’s tired. 

She’s so fucking tired and there seems to be no relief in sight. 

“And I’d rather him rot away on this couch knowing that someone loves him than get a phone call that he—that he killed himself because I helped everything get taken away from him.” 

She zips past him to her linen closet to grab a blanket for Javy. “So yeah. You don’t have to get it but I do, and I’m gonna continue to stick by him regardless because that’s what friends do.” 

Jake stands dumbfounded in the dimly illuminated doorway as she carefully unfolds a blanket and gently lays it on Javy. He watches as she turns to Bradley and puts her finger underneath his nose to ensure that he’s alive and breathing. Her eyes refuse to meet him as she walks into her bedroom and shuts the door. 

And when she wakes the next morning to find Jake fast asleep in a chair alongside Javy and Bradley, she knows that there was nothing but truth to the words he had uttered to her last night. 

When they wake, they separate and leave for work like the events of the evening had never happened. 

Like Bradley hadn’t projectile vomited at the bar the previous night or that Javy hadn’t dropped him on his ass in Nat’s living room. Like Natasha hadn’t cried so hard her nose bled and that Jake hadn’t had the chewing out of his life given to him in a bathroom at three in the morning. Like everything is fine when they all know that it’s not – the textbook definition of burying an issue beneath a rug. 

Natasha almost tricks herself into pretending like the entire evening had never happened until she spots Bradley’s black Yeti cup on his desk. She stares at it with wonder and hatred and she doesn’t even realize how long she had been standing there until she feels the warm drip of blood seeping from her nose slide down her face and onto her chest. 

Natasha Trace was a person who was very rarely mistaken, but now she can say that her mistakes run large when she is. 

Because Bradley Bradshaw is fucked, and there is absolutely nothing she can do about it. 

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfic #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #top gun #top gun maverick #miles teller #mt #rooster bradshaw fanfic #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster angst #rooster bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw angst #cause no one breaks my heart like you #tw therapy #tw alcohol #tw suicide #i genuinely don't have the words to fathom how much this means to me #this is also a sequel to cause no one breaks my heart like you if you hadn't heard but can be read alone too!

[cherrygukkie]

Late Night Encounters Pt. 2 | jjk

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Here's part 2! I hope you enjoy it. Don't forget to leave feedback <33

Warnings: (Nothing serious for now....)

Tell me if there are any errors! I hurried and skimmed through this!

••••••••

It’s the afternoon and you’ve successfully made it through the school day. With you being tired, it went faster than you anticipated and it wasn’t too bad…

… except that you never got your beats back from Jungkook. It was just a repeat of this morning and you had to suffer and watch him use them in 5th period, chemistry.

he’s so annoying

Besides all that, you were more than prepared for later today. This wasn’t your first rodeo. This is your third year and you are more than familiar, but as time passes the stakes get higher and higher.

Your life could completely change in a matter of hours. If you were to get recruited on a team, depending on what and where, if you accepted their offer you would end up finishing college early and possibly move out of the state.

And that means you'll be leaving everything behind.

It’s all you could think about walking from school and you didn’t want to drown in your thoughts anymore because you needed rest, so you wouldn’t overthink.

A nap wouldn’t hurt, would it?

You found yourself melting into your soft comforter, staring at the pretty colorful lights on the wall. It was war hanging up those lights, but it was worth it. The gentle glow reminded you of the warmth and comfort you felt back at home in your old room.

Embracing the cozy atmosphere, you shift around to get comfortable. You dim the lights with your remote, preparing for some slumber until a specific thought pops up in your head.

Who you were bringing with you as your date….

It just hit you that your words slipped out and you told Jungkook that you had a date to bring, but in reality, you didn’t… you were going to invite Yoongi or Taehyung, as friends.”

And now you’re in a pickle.

But showing up alone wouldn’t be too bad, except for the fact that Jungkook would know that you lied.

If you were to bring one of them, is he gonna pay you any attention?

No, because he’ll be too invested in his date to even give a fuck about yours. As long as he sees you with someone and that’s all that matters.

It shouldn’t be any more than that.

Suddenly, your phone comes to life once and the notification sends waves of vibrations through the sheets making it impossible to ignore.

You check your phone to see an incoming FaceTime call from Yoongi—your beloved bestie. 

You answer. “Hey, Yoongi.”

Putting your face in the camera, you reveal your messy hair that’s covering your pillow. Yoongi gets a closer look at you and asks, “Were you asleep?”

“No,” you huff, releasing a yawn. “I tried to, but I just thought about how I fucked up today.”

He lifts his brow, curiously. “What happened?” 

some bullshit

“Well… I um-” your eyes look up to the ceiling, soaking up a moment of silence and Yoongi stares at you expectedly, waiting for a response.

He slightly raises his voice. “Hello? Are you fucking stuck or something? Tell me what’s going on.”

Who is he talking to? lol 

“No, I am not stuck,” you said firmly. “I accidentally made a mistake and told Jungkook that I had a date for my sporting event…”

“Some bullshit… like I assumed.” He sighs as you bite your tongue, speechless.  “And why would you say that?”

“Because…” you start, “it was this thing… and he assumed I didn’t have a date, so I lied to not look pathetic.”

You saying that only makes you look more pathetic.

“Let me get this straight,” Yoongi pauses to give you a look. The “you dumb bitch look”. “You told Jungkook… someone you hate… that you had a date just because he assumed that you didn’t? And you want to prove him wrong?”

That sounds about right…

“Yeah?” You utter with shame, teeth sinking into your lip. “Yeah, I did...” Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “When you think about it… it’s not that bad because you’re coming with me.” you thoughtfully suggest, hoping he would accept the invitation. “And that way I won’t look stupid!”

“Can’t,” he spit carelessly, expression dulling. “You know I’m at work, Y/N. And why would I even do this favor for you? You ignored my texts and calls the entire day.”

True that. True that.

You added, “And Taehyung as well. Don’t forget that you guys fucking ditched me this morning and still didn’t tell me where you went, so that was well deserved.”

You didn’t hesitate to mention him and Taehyung's suspicious behavior, yet he still doesn’t say anything about it.

“I understand…” Yoongi reasons with you, secretly rolling his eyes. “And I apologize.” His tone sounded forced like his apology.

You shake your head. “I have a request that's better than an apology.” Exchanging looks with Yoongi, a small grin appears on your lips. “How about you come with me this evening and then I’ll grant you my forgiveness?”

Yoongi blinks unimpressed with your words and it makes you beg. “Please Yoongi…” you pout a little. “Besides the shit with Jungkook, I was going to ask you regardless. I do want you by my side for support.”

And when you put it like that, he has no choice but to give in. After all, you are his best friend. 

His face softens. “Alright, fine I’ll go. I’ll just tell my boss that it’s a family emergency. Just tell me all the details.”

You explain everything to Yoongi…

“Formal wear… got it,” he notes with a nod. “But what are you going to wear?”

“I honestly don’t know… which is why I’m going to have you go get me something quick and pretty. I’ll text you my size in everything,” you say with confidence, putting your trust in him. “You know what to wear in these situations… me? Not so much.”

Are you sure you wanted to leave your outfit in his hands? Yoongi's hands?

His face lights up when a mischievous glint dances in his brown eyes, “Alright,” he agrees, having something up his sleeve. “I’ll be there by 6:30.”

“Okay and once again thank you, Yoongs.” You show him appreciation with a grateful smile. “ I’ll see you later!”

You both say bye before hanging up.

Seconds later, you throw your head into the fluffy pillow. What else is there to do? You thought.

Oh, right, that nap.

🏐🥊

You’re woken up from your slumber due to the loud knocks on your door. Once you get up, you walk out of your room with messy hair and blurred vision. When your eyesight clears, you see Yoongi with bags in his hands. 

“Yoongi...?” you mumble, processing being disturbed from your sleep.

It took a few rubs against the eyes until you noticed him all suited up. Your mind was blown and you couldn’t believe your eyes.

You were too busy admiring your best friend's jaw-dropping appearance, you couldn’t even form a proper sentence.

“Yoongi you…” you stutter, “Yoongi you look smoking hot.” Your compliment made him twirl in slow motion. 

“I know.” he looks around, arrogantly smiling his ass off. You playfully roll your eyes, letting him have his moment.

“Wait, how did you even get in here?” You ask, confused.

“Oh uh,” he points towards the hall, giving you a certain look. “Your roommate let me in because you weren’t answering the phone and I almost got caught.”

oh… her

“And she actually seems nice,” he says, slightly surprised. “She’s like the total opposite of what you say about her.”

“That's because she doesn't like me and I don't care. I don't like the bitch either.”  Your harsh words made Yoongi’s mouth snap shut, and he regretted what he just shared.

What did he expect? He knew that you didn’t like her and that you weren’t afraid to express it.

“Anyways!” you dismiss the idea of her with a smile. “What did you get me, friend?” 

After that does he want to show you what he purchased? Is it possible for you’ll hate him as much as your roommate?

When you walk towards Yoongi, you try to take a peek inside the red bags and he immediately pulls the bags away from you. “Don’t look in the bag just go change,” He demands, slowly handing you the bags. You nod your head, awkwardly listening to his instructions.

Rushing to the bathroom, you make sure to grab everything from your room on the way there and Yoongi flops on the couch, making himself comfortable while he waits for you patiently.

When you get in the bathroom your mind sets on those bags. With that being said, you ram through the bags like a kid on a Christmas morning.

Little did you know that the excitement in your veins would stop…

Yoongi was casually checking the time on his phone when he heard a scream. “YOONGI!” you violently scream, pissed off with what was in your hands. 

He freezes, slowly turning his head to the bathroom and the door flies open. You stand there in the doorway empty-handed with a blank expression.

You say out loud, “I’m not wearing that shit. I won’t, I refuse.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head with an idea of how this would go.

🏐🥊

“I hate you,” you sassed through a childish pout.

Yoongi ignored your attitude as he pulled into the parking lot. You were annoyed with him and he was annoyed with your nagging majority of the car ride. He was ready to lose his shit if another peep came from you, but your nagging came from him buying you a dress instead of getting something you wanted. 

A short, black, silky, revealing dress…

Getting out of the car, it was easy to notice Yoongi’s irritated expression and if we’re being honest it’s his fault, completely all his fault.

If he would’ve gone with something you wanted, you would’ve never opened your mouth and he wouldn’t have to hear your bullshit.

Why didn't you like dresses?

It’s not so much of you feeling insecure in them. It’s more of you refusing to step out of your comfort zone sticking to the comfort of jeans, sneakers, hoodies, shirts…

The comfort of being covered up, not exposed.

Honestly, the dress Yoongi bought was stunning without a doubt, but the fabric felt foreign against your skin and you weren’t used to your cleavage being exposed or wearing shoes that made you inches taller than you already were.

At least the dress complimented your figure. Thanks to the built-in corset.

You curse under your breath, tugging down the hem of the dress as it rode up your thighs. Yoongi hears the frustration in your voice and he glances over at you.

“You look good, okay?” He tiredly assures you again for the hundredth time. 

You might look it, but you sure as hell don’t feel it. It’s funny how a piece of clothing makes you question yourself, your whole appearance.

“How many times do I have to tell you?”

•nobody asked you to tell me.

“I didn’t even say anything this time!” You annoyingly mutter. “You said something first….” Your eyes shift downwards as you carefully watch your step.

He shook his head, keeping his eyes forward. “Because you keep complaining about the dress when you look perfectly fine. I get that it’s not what you wanted, but you need to step out of your comfort zone.”

He does have a point.

You barely get a word out when Yoongi continues, “Y/N you’ve been wearing tried-ass dress suits for the last 2 years. It’s time for a change, an upgrade.”

He side-eyes you, empathizing with his point. “But seriously, I wouldn’t let you walk out of the house looking like a mess. You look good Y/N, so embrace it and stop pouting like a child.”

Your frown turns into a smile, embracing the warmth of Yoongi’s words. Like usual, he’s always right. It’s good to step out of your comfort zone.

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” He cracks a smile.

 “Stepping out of my comfort zone could help me explore different sides of myself,” you pause, in shock that these words were even coming from you. “And could strengthen my confidence.”

With that being said, Yoongi gives you a nod of approval. “Atta girl.” He pats you gently on the back and you feel a surge of pride.

As you approach the security at the front entrance, they check for indentation successfully and let you in shortly. Yoongi and you entered the venue, arms linked and complimenting each other's outfits. The grand entrance greeted us with sparkling chandeliers and the venue was stunning. 

• I swear it gets bigger, better, and prettier over the years

Both of you were blown away by the luxurious theme. It had this fancy vibe, with chandeliers sparkling overhead and the sound of laughter and excitement filling the air. The architecture was so put together, with intricate designs on the walls and shiny marble floors.

 Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in their finest attire, exuding an aura of sophistication and glamor. The contagious atmosphere was filled with grace and elegance. It felt good to be able to experience such a breathtaking environment once in a while.

You were feeling nostalgia from the sound of laughter and excitement in the air, mingling with the melodic tunes playing from the live band in the corner. 

It wasn’t new, but it was refreshing. It felt refreshing like how it did last year and the year before that...

Our linked arms served as a reminder of the bond we shared, as best friends, ready to immerse ourselves in the event. 

You walk through crowds of people with Yoongi by your side, searching for familiar faces. And then, there they were - your team, standing together, chatting and laughing.

“Come on, Yoongs.” You yank his arm, feeling your pace quicken. They noticed you quickly when you called them out, getting their attention. As you rushed forward, you greeted each of them with warm hugs and air kisses. 

The girls couldn't help but express their awe at your appearance. They’ve never seen you like this before. All girly looking, with makeup, in a dress and heels. 

You surprised them all by donning a beautiful dress that accentuates your natural beauty. 

Mindy, your sweet captain air kisses your cheek. "Y/N, you look stunning babes!" She shouted, eyes sparkling with admiration. The others nodded in agreement, their smiles widening. “That dress looks beautiful on you.”

Their compliments made your cheeks heat up and you start getting shy. “Thank you,” you reply, hiding your smile bashfully. “I appreciate all the compliments.”

You were too busy basking in the compliments, you realized that your best friend was standing right next to you, quiet as a mouse.

“Oh shit.” You laugh, pulling Yoongi closer. “I nearly forgot to introduce you all. Girls, this is my best friend, Yoongi. Yoongi, these are my teammates.”

“Hi, I’m Mindy. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

 She offered her hand, welcoming Yoongi with a dazzling smile. “It’s nice to meet you too.” He smiles, returning the kind gesture. 

Everyone else exchanged their friendly greetings individually.

“Where’s coach?” You asked the girls, looking around the venue for her face. “Wasn’t she supposed to be here before us?” Your question came from the scheduling. It said all coaches must be here before everyone.

Mindy responds, “Coach is running late, but I’m not sure why. She will be here before they start the speeches.”

•speeches!?!??

“In the meantime, let’s go sit. I got us a table in our own section.” Mindy signals to follow her and everyone follows suit, including you and Yoongi.

🏐🥊

After everyone sat down, we immediately started chatting about the event and other topics. It was great talking about something other than volleyball for once. Sometime later, Mindy suggested that she should order some drinks for the table.

Everyone agreed and she was about to head to the bar until she insisted you keep her company while she did so. You were a little confused, but you got up anyway and went with her. On the way there, it was quiet…

Real quiet.

Mindy seemed okay, but the silence was uncomfortable for you and it only made you wonder why she asked you to go with her.

You out of all people?

The both of you were walking towards the bar, allowing another moment of silence to pass and you didn’t notice, but Mindy looked at you. “Are you okay?”

You snap out of your thoughts and you look at her. “Yeah, I'm good. I’m just thinking about tonight and the possible outcomes.”

“Spill.” Mindy nudged your arm with hers, encouraging you to share your thoughts. “What’s the current mood?”

“I'm just okay… I guess,” you answer, truthfully with a nod. “If I'm being honest with you Mindy, I won’t be optimistic about this because I’m not expecting anything from it.”

You weren’t trying to sound like a Debbie Downer or dampen the vibe of the event, but it’s the truth. Getting recruited wasn’t your priority right now even though it probably should be.

You go on, “But you already know that I wasn’t hoping to get scouted, so what about you, Mindy? how are we feeling at the moment?" 

She turns her attention towards you, hearing the concern in your voice. “Is this your year?” You question her, expecting an immediate yes. However, you got the opposite. 

The shift in the air was noticeable after she went silent. She became more serious and her gaze dropped to her feet as you continued to walk. You follow suit, assuming that she doesn’t want to discuss it right now.

You finally made it to the bar and the waiter assisted you with the order of drinks for everyone. Mindy, after picking out drinks, turns to look at you.

“I apologize if you felt that I ignored you,” she softly apologizes, locking eyes with you to show sincerity. “It’s just that I’m all over the place and I don’t know where my head is at.” 

“Thats understandable, I get it.” You smile reassuringly. “It’s a lot to think about, especially when it’s your last year here and if you get recruited that means you’ll be leaving…” 

“Leaving in the middle of the season,” she said, snatching the words from your mouth. “Yeah, I know. That also means that I won’t be a part of the team and I won’t be captain anymore.” You hear the bummer in her tone as she speaks.

“You know…” Mindy sighs, looking down at her feet. “When I was talking about it with my parents earlier, I was so prepared and confident about getting recruited and leaving if so happens. But now that I’m here, I’m not so sure.”

Even though you didn’t have a strong friendship with the team or Mindy, seeing her like this was out of the ordinary for you. This wasn’t a side of your captain that you were used to.

 She wore a smile on her face and there was nothing in the world that could rain on her parade. She always had a positive attitude no matter the circumstances. 

You wondered why she was like this now.

Mindy brings her head up to look at you. You expected her Hazel eyes to be glowing like they usually do anytime you see her, but they were dimmed now.

She rests her arms on the counter top. "Volleyball is my life, Y/N. I don’t know what my life would be without it and I don’t want to experience that feeling ever.”

You give her your undivided attention as she proceeds to rant, “And if I don’t get recruited, for the most part, I think I’ll be okay and maybe a little dissapointed. Will I think that my hard work over the years was a waste? Yeah, but I won’t beat myself up about it.” 

“And you shouldn’t beat yourself up, Mindy,” you chimed in, in agreement. “You have long years of experience with volleyball for club, high school, and college and you have the skills to back it up.”

The conversation was interrupted by the waiter, who placed a platter full of sparkling colorful drinks in front of the two of you. Her attention was focused on the drinks as she carefully grabbed the platter.

“What I’m saying is that you can do this. You are an outstanding setter and outside hitter, who has the best leadership skills. Who wouldn’t want you on their team?” Your genuine positivity makes her beam, “Plus you’re still young. You have time to make it if tonight doesn’t go as planned. Just because it’s your last year doesn’t mean it’s your last chance.”

She nods in agreement, “You’re right.”  The corners of her mouth curl up in a gentle smile, as you make your way towards everyone seated in the section. “I should be thinking more like that.”

It's clear that she values your viewpoint and appreciates your insight.

“But seriously thank you, Y/N. Thank you for having this talk with me.” her smile grows wider. “I needed it.” 

“No need to thank me,” you reply warmly. “I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, I’ve always been here.”

“I know… and I regret not talking to you sooner. I didn’t realize how nice you were,” Mindy admits, her voice filled with sincerity.

You look at Mindy, shocked with widening eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that look girl,” she says with a hint of amusement. “You and I both know that you’re reserved and you tend to keep to yourself.”

You didn’t have a strong relationship with the girls. It’s insane because you’ve been on the same team for years.

•guilty as charged.

“Maybe… I am,” you give in with a defeated chuckle. “But I promise you it’s nothing personal. I’m just naturally like that.”

“Good to know. Now I feel that I get you more.” Her words flow with newfound understanding. “Stepping out of that shell and communicating more with the girls would us even stronger as a team.”

Mindy’s works sank as you thought about what she said.

“I’ll work on it-”

“Friends?” She asks you.

It caught you by surprise, but you exchange friendly smiles with her, and with a nod, you responded.  “Friends,” you smile, taking a drink off the platter.

Without realizing it, you and Mindy found yourselves standing in front of the girls, drinks in hand. You joined them and without missing a beat, everyone eagerly grabbed a drink and began to enjoy the moment together. 

🏐🥊

After enjoying the laughter, the banter, and the moments that were created with everyone, your social battery started to drain and you were in desperate need of alone time. 

You were craving it.

It was tough, but you managed to sneak away from the lively crowd. You can’t remember, but Yoongi wandered off somewhere, so you didn’t have a reason to stick around anymore. 

Searching for a quiet place, you found a cute and comfortable lounge that wasn’t occupied, so you decided to settle down there to relax a little.

You vibe to the music, scrolling through social media, getting lost in your thoughts. You came across a lot of Instagram posts of people being here this evening.

Shockingly, there were posts from damn near every school except your rival school, Harvard University.

It looks like they haven’t arrived yet.

Harvard University was another school that was populated with nothing, but rich preppy kids who lived off their parent's money. Money was no object to them…

But I guess all the money spent for each semester is worth it, right? It’s a perfect environment, students are provided with the best education, and they’re guaranteed top-notch resources and opportunities. There’s no question that Harvard was a great school… although the people there make it shitty.

If you didn't look, breathe, or smell a certain way you didn’t belong there and your background plays a huge role too. If you weren’t rich, you’re below everyone else and that’s why only particular people were seen there. Popular people, jocks, frats, cheerleaders, football players, and the list goes on. 

•shit like that is ridiculous

Thank god you went to a school that accepted everyone for them.

The point is that Harvard has been your rival school for years and just like your school, Harvard University is in the top 5 states for college sports. And just like your school, Harvard had an excellent sports program. And just like your school, everyone who graduated from that school who was on a sports team became a D-1 athlete.

Both school's sports teams were the best at what they did and every team you and Harvard have stumbled upon was crushed.

The only competition you had was each other.

It was like you were neck to neck with them every single time and you hated it just like you hated to admit that all of their sports teams were elite. 

That includes volleyball…

They’ve won all games and all tournaments, except last year. You remembered everything like yesterday...

Did people not expect them to try to pay for their win? Over winning it the fair way? The looks on them and their coach’s face said it all. They weren’t used to people who could keep up with their abilities.

Long story short, they cheated.

The coach had connections with the ref and that resulted in him announcing it as a tie, even though it was clear that we won.

 It ended up being a tie because they weren’t willing to admit that they were a beatable team.

And the year before that, you weren’t able to compete in the tournament due to the majority of players being seriously injured in the semifinals.  You had no choice but to forfeit.

Having to sit out your first year was such a bummer.

All you had to do was beat Harvard and become the state champions, but instead, you had to witness Harvard hold up the trophy.

The trophy had State Champions engraved on it.

It sucked watching them hold up that trophy. You hated how much you missed out on an opportunity to be crowned the state champions, but it’s fine.

This year you’re coming back even stronger. And this year when the tournament comes around, your team will take what’s rightfully theirs.

That trophy.

You are still seated, relaxing on the sofa until you feel a strange sensation creep up your spine. It was like someone’s presence was looming over you.

With a hint of unease, you take a brief second to look up and when you do you instantly regret it. Your heart skips a beat as your whole body flinches, nearly dropping your phone.

There he was, Jeon Jungkook who was standing in front of you only a foot away just casually staring, hard.

“It’s you…” you sigh while eyeing him down with disgust.

Jungkook stood in front of you with his outfit that commanded attention. He was dressed in a black sleek and stylish suit with white stripes that were tailored to perfection. Your eyes wander over all the intricate details and the fine craftsmanship of the suit. 

It was a designer suit for sure, which makes you wonder how a regular college student could afford a luxury piece like that.

You were familiar with the brand and they’re extremely expensive. A suit like that cost's money… too much money.

Looks like he outdone himself and went all out for this evening. Let’s hope his date does the same.

“… the most annoying human on the planet,” you finish, crossing your legs. “Why are you in my face?”

“Don’t be like that, beasty.” Hearing that stupid nickname gave you the icks. “Don’t pretend that I’m not your favorite.”

•lord, throw the whole boy away!

 “You aren’t.” 

After relentlessly bursting his bubble, you quickly glance at his biceps that were effortlessly bulging through his suit. It looked like his gains were ready to rip through the expensive material.

You ask, “What do you want?” 

“I saw that you were having fun by yourself.” he points out, resting against the wall, drink in hand. “and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk to you.”

“For what exactly?” You proceed to question him.

“Well, you do look lonely…” he comments, looking you up and down. “And I don’t see your date accompanying you,” he adds on, staring into your soul as he sips his drink.

•this boy is throwing hella shade 

Hella shade.

Having nothing to say, you remain silent and you let him continue. “So, tell me…” He leans off the wall. “Did you have a date or did you lie to save yourself from embarrassment?”

“For your information, i have a date Jungkook.” You scan the room, attempting to find Yoongi, but he’s out of range, and that makes you nervous.

“Where is he then?” Jungkook follows your eyes, looking behind his shoulder.

“Somewhere,” you claim while nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders. “He’s around here somewhere.” 

“Really?” Jungkook eyebrows shoot up in surprise when you nod your head in response. “Then how about I meet the lucky guy?” He indicates, smirk tugging at his lips.

•….

•say that again for me?

Suddenly, your throat tightens as if you were choking on your own words. 

This was a glass-shattering moment for you…

“Yeah,” you say, clearing your throat. “You can meet him if you really want to.”

“I really do.” Jungkook chuckles, poking his cheek with his tongue. “You come with a lot of luggage and I’m just curious to see who's carrying.”

•where’s Yoongi when I fucking need him?!?

You fix your posture, before looking Jungkook in the eye. “I told you that he’s somewhere around here. No clue where though…”

No matter how truthful your answer was,  Jungkook wasn’t taking it. “Let's find him, then. Come on I’ll help you,” he insists, offering his arm with a smirk. 

You coldly glare between his eyes and arm, letting your expressions do the talking for you. Without another word, you stood up striding past Jungkook leaving him standing like an idiot.

Walking through active huddles of people, you still couldn’t find any signs of Yoongi. Now you’re feeling shit tons of regret, knowing that Jungkook wasn’t going to let this go.

Your mind was so set on finding Yoongi and you didn’t realize that Jungkook was following your footsteps, not letting you out of his sight.

That was up until annoying jungkook grabbed your wrist and his grip prevented you from walking.

When you turn around, he sighs and gives you a look. “Just give it up. I know you’re lying and I get it.” You part your lips to speak, but he keeps going. “I know it’s a struggle finding someone who wants to deal with your ways.” He pulls you closer in mid-setence, “And you lied to me because you were ashamed.”

•lol. He did not just- okay.

“Says that one who can’t keep a stable relationship, even if their life depended on it,” You retorted with sarcasm, snatching your wrist away from Jungkook. “You should be ashamed of that.”

Your words hit a nerve in Jungkook when his jaw clenches before speaking, “And when’s the last time you were even in a relationship?” He retorts back, matching your low blow. 

“I can admit that it’s been a while, but I know poor Alex suffered dealing with you. Who wouldn’t?” 

The rumors that were going around about their breakup were messy. It got messier when people couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire, putting words in their mouths, switching up the story, or putting the blame on one person.

People twisting the truth and spreading shit tons of gossip, you didn’t know what to believe.

“You have no business speaking on shit you don’t know about, so don’t speak about my relationship.”

“My relationship doesn't have shit to do with you, yet you brought it up!!” You yelled.

Shots were fired back and forth and the bickering continued between the both of you, ignoring the fact that you were standing in the middle of the floor, surrounded by crowds of people. 

You became overwhelmed with the screaming contest between you and Jungkook and your forced confession drowned out the noise of the argument. 

“I lied.” You loudly confess, the weight of your words hung in thin air. Silence wasted no time catching up with the both of you and all you hear is the faint melody of the music in the background.

“I came with my best friend and he was my date,” you admit with air quotes. “And now I can’t find him, but I only lied because it seems like you're always trying to one-up me and I’m so fucking sick of it.”

In that moment, you gave Jungkook a deadpan and he returned a mischievous smirk.

A mischievous smirk slowly spread across Jungkook's face, as if he had anticipated your confession all along.

He did.

Now that the weight wasn’t restraining you, it’s time for the real question. The important one.

Your expression hardened and you sneered, “All this mess about me, what about you? Where's your date?” You take a step closer, revealing how serious you are.

Jungkook reaches into his pocket, without breaking the intense eye contact. “She’s running a little late. I’m going to text her to check her status,” he says briefly, revealing his phone.

“Oh,” he exclaimed, surprised by what he was reading. “Looks like we spoke her up.” Jungkook glances at you flashing you with a sly grin. “She just texted and told me that she’s here.”

Jungkook, without another peep, walks towards the entrance. You don’t give him the chance you leave looking puzzled, so curiosity takes over you and you follow him through crowds of people.

He stops walking and you stop beside him, ready to uncover the mystery. Who is this girl?

You look over at Jungkook who was trying to adjust his tie to perfection.

•so extra for what?

 The door swings open, revealing a flood of blinding sunlight that makes a path like a red carpet. You watched as a group of girls entered the venue all dressed up with their heels. Their faces looked a bit familiar as they got closer, then there was this one individual that stood out, strutting in the room sprinkling her confidence everywhere.

Gaia Watson.

The captain of Harvard University’s volleyball team and she also happens to be another enemy of yours.

And just when you thought things couldn’t get any work, Jungkook calls her over. Hearing her name made your face contort with a mix of anger and displeasure.

•is it possible that she’s- no it’s not..

You were trying your best to conceal your emotions, but your body language betrays your frustration.  

“Wait… is Gaia your date, Jungkook?” You ask hoping it isn't true and if it was… chaos might just happen.

“Yes, she is.” He turns to look at you with a questionable look. “Is that a problem?”

•yeah.

“Why the fuck would I have a problem? That doesn’t have anything to do with me,” you shut down his question, crossing your arms, and bringing your attention back to Gaia. “I was just wondering…” you mumble to yourself.

Your blood started to boil as she approached you and Jungkook.

•!!!!!!!!

Surprise, surprise!

To be continued...

Taglist

@babybella337 @junecat18 @sublimewitchdreamer @Coralmusicblaze @busanbby-jjk @seokjingrande @snkyuv @seulrene

#bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #minors dni #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook au #bts #bts imagine #bts x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x you #bts jungkook

[snowmuttgetsweird]

3/5/23 CW: Abuse/Trauma mention kinda? ADHD stuff, anxiety stuff, "The Bluey Post."

Last couple days have been okay. I've been learning to manage the panic attacks better. I didn't actually have one today- I kinda had a smaller episode yesterday, but I put on some Bluey and it turns out to be like, magic anti-panic attack medicine. Who knew.

Some people have heard me say (seen me type?) before that after watching Zootopia, I didn't want to FUCK Clawhauser; I just wanted to be his friend. My first real furry crush was Alex the Lion from Madagascar- just a bright, bouncy, funny, silly, charming character that loved to perform and loved people- bonus points for having huge bappy manimal paws and big chompy teeth. This is going somewhere, I promise.

I feel like there's this positivity vacuum in my life that makes me a sucker for hyper-pure characters and content, like it artificially fills some kind of void that makes me wish I were a part of it in an earnest and genuine way.

Bluey has been like... The greatest expression of that feeling. I love watching Bluey never stop being bossy because she gets away with it nine times out of ten due to her shear charisma. I love watching Bingo constantly challenged to fight for attention and respect, and ultimately succeeding. I love watching the chaos that unfolds literally any time that Muffin is on-screen. I love the way Bandit genuinely loves his daughters and does everything in his power to spend time with them and indulge them, even if it's not always on his preferred terms. I love the storyboarding, the subtle hints at deeper trauma across the cast, the relatability of the characters.

I remember before ever seeing the show, I saw a clip of Jack on Twitter. Why can't you sit still? Why can't you remember anything? Why can't you just do what you're told? He stops fidgeting for a moment and really thinks about it and says, sadly:

"... I don't know."

I cried to that clip- hard- because that moment with Jack was my entire childhood and was the most I ever related to a character. It was the most I had ever seen of myself on a TV show packed into three words uttered by a cartoon jack russell terrier that couldn't remember his god damn hat.

Every day of my life, my dad yelled and screamed at me asking why I couldn't do these simple things he asked me to do and all I could say was "I don't know." Sometimes he'd scream it back at me at the top of his lungs in that condescending slurred "pretending to be special needs" tone, mocking me.

My third grade teacher tried to tell my parents "Chris is very smart but has a difficult time staying on task and participating in class- I think that Chris may be struggling with ADHD" and my mom jumped down her throat for suggesting her son could have been anything less than perfect. She didn't attend parent teacher conferences anymore after that. Where dad was hard on me, mom coddled me and kept me "under [her] wing" as dad would say.

I grew up "smart" and "gifted" but "lazy" and "unmotivated," bullshitting and last-minute-ing my way through school, flopping upwards and somehow convincing everyone I was everything they thought I was.

I'm not medicated or diagnosed and I can't afford to be, but I KNOW I'm ADHD. Seeing the way other people struggle and relating to it all- the time blindness, the hyper-focus, the terrible working memory, the difficulty managing emotions, the executive dysfunction, the rambling- yes I know I'm doing it right now, sorry- all of it and more.

At THAT moment, seeing Jack internally question why he can't do all these simple things really endeared me to the character, and I knew I wanted to watch Bluey for more than just lusting after Bandit (god help me he's still so fucking ideal). When I actually watched the show and reached that episode, I was floored by just how beautifully and subtly the show straight up teaches kids about ADHD without ever mentioning it.

Rusty involves Jack in a game that challenges every debilitating aspect of his neurodivergency, and Jack succeeds in every event based on the three motivational pillars of ADHD: Urgency, Novelty, and Personal Interest. If you think of motivation as a bridge, those three things make up the planks you step across, and if any or all of them are missing, it's MUCH harder for someone with ADHD to stay invested in the task at hand and follow through from start to finish without struggling along the way. It's a game, so there's novelty. Jack wants to make a good impression on Rusty, so there's personal interest. In the last part of the game, they need that dust off NOW, so there's your urgency. All three allow Jack to overcome his poor working memory (difficulty remembering multiple pieces of information across short periods of time), his inability to sit still, and his executive dysfunction (inability to actively prioritize what your brain decides to focus its attention on). The episode is just extremely well researched. Fun fact, did you know there's a prominent, internationally recognized authority in the field of ADHD research named Russell Barkley? Coincidence? I think not!

Obviously I got off-track and rambled a bit and now I'm mentally spent, but all I mean to say is that Bluey is a really, overwhelmingly beautiful and cozy show and I'm extremely thankful to have it in my life. It is genuinely beautiful artistically and the animators are given a lot of opportunity to flex their creativity. There's a lot to love but that first episode with Jack was the one that really sold me on it.

It's about 1:30 AM now, I've got a pot roast I've gotta get in the slow cooker in the morning, and I think I'm more prone to panic attacks when I'm sleep-deprived, so I'm gonna try to maneuver around this cat that's leaned up against my thigh and go to sleep.

I don't know if anyone is actually reading these, but I kinda like typing them either way.

Night.

[robbinggoodfellows]

@thespacecatgirl I kinda remembered my idea but its mostly just me projecting on Russ / venting. also its a lot, like I cried writing this bc oops I might have gone a bit far so just fair warning

tw: eating disorders, vomiting, sui, sh

Russel sat on the floor of his dorm during his lunch period. His mom had shown him how to do this a few years ago, how quickly his weight would drop if he could just get over his fear of vomiting. Skipping meals wasn't working anymore. Now that Roman was with him 24/7, it was impossible to get away with not eating. Russ decided he would go to his room during lunch today, not telling Roman where he was because he just couldn't deal with everything right now.

Russel vomited and then leaned back against the bathroom wall. He wiped his fingers on his vest and sighed. Just then, his phone rang. It was Roman. "I have several sources telling me they just heard you puking. Care to explain?" Romans voice was so comforting, even when he was clearly upset. "Sources? What is this, gotcha journalism or something? I'm fine, Roman. I just don't feel good is all." Russ hated lying, it made him more nauseous. "Bullshit." Roman responded, and Russel thought about how he's never heard Roman this angry, "You have too much energy to be sick, when you're sick you can't make stupid witty comments about gotcha journalism."

Russel sighed and accepted that Roman was going to be at his room at any point, and that that would entail having to tell Roman what was wrong. It wasn't like Russ didn't appreciate the way Roman cared about him but, Russel was supposed to be the strong one in their friendship. Russel was supposed to protect him and take care of him not the other way around.

Maybe, if God was as real as the nuns at his school told him, maybe God would kill Russel right now. Or at least give him the power to do it himself. In the moments before Roman arrived at Russels dorm, he had reverse engineered his razor and was laying on the floor of the tiny shower in his bathroom, deep red cuts marking his pale skin.

"Fucking hell, Russ." Roman cursed under his breath as he saw the utter disarray of the room itself. Then he saw the bathroom door, cracked open. He saw Russels arm hanging out of the bathtub like every self harm scene in a movie, 'he's so cliche' Roman thought, trying to ward off the panic as he pushed the door open. "Russel..." he said, staring into the blank expression of his friend. "I'm sorry" Russel whispered, breath hitching as his gaze met Romans. "Tell Charlie I'm so so sorry, ok?" Russ requested, but Roman shook his head and knelt down beside Russel. "No, Russ, you'll tell him yourself, ok? It's gonna be okay. I can help you, ok? You're not going to die Russel; you can't die." Roman scrambled to find bandages or gauze or something to stop the bleeding, Russels blood staining his shirt and smudging across his phone screen as he dialed 9-1-1, trying not to look at Russels face because it hurt too much.

"911, What is your emergency?" The woman on the phone said, Roman put it on speaker so he could press a towel against Russels wounds. "Hello, Im at St. Cassians Catholic School in Uranium city, my friend just tried to kill himself, he's bleeding out, I need help." Roman sobbed a bit, trying to keep Russ conscience by squeezing his hand, knowing Russ always squeezed back. "Please stay with your friend for now, but have someone go get an adult. An ambulance is on its way."

"Roman, I don't want this." Russel said, as soon as Roman hung up the phone, "I don't want to be saved. I'll just be known as the town disappointment. I'll be put in a psych ward I don't want any of this Roman. Just let this happen." Russ cupped Romans cheek gently, wiping away his friends tears.

"Roman..." Russel whispered, just barely audibly, "I love you." He closed his eyes.

To be continued...

[orcelito]

SAFE TO SAY if I’m ever in love with you I’ll probably always be a little bit in love with you

That said, my current Situation has filled me with Much Bitterness And is very much choking that out!!!

#speculation nation #at least with the last breakup it was obvious shit was going downhill #this one it just kinda blindsided me. #doesn’t help that it uh happened in the way that it did!!!! #it’s NOT PLEASANT AT ALL to be left for someone else who’s basically like you but ‘better’ #listing traits that match mine but he’s better Bc uhh *checks hand* He Understands Me #honestly I don’t even fuckin remember I was an emotional mess during that convo #at least my last ex didn’t fuckin Fall In Love behind my back #sure it hurt like hell to be left Bc of my flaws. but hey. like. it’s still better!!! #god I’m still so angry about this all. but apparently it’s unreasonable for me to be angry about it!!! #Bc I APPRENTLY never took his feelings into consideration while he APPARENTLY was aaaalways thinking about mine #utter bullshit. I tried to be everything he needed but he never fucking told me what he needed #he never trusted me with it. and then had the gall to say it was my fault. #but whatever. whatever! doesn’t even matter anymore! #Bc like fuck I’d be taking him back #ya for like a week or two I wanted things to go back to how they were #but now I’m just angry. and I know I deserve better than that. #no I’m not perfect!!!!! while I can b a manipulative & self absorbed little shit at times #I’m also compassionate and forgiving and kind and witty and whatever the fuck else #manic pixie dream girl minus the girl part. honestly I think that’s how the guys who’ve been interested in me have seen me #see someone who looks like a girl & likes video games and they’re just like ‘oh my GOD I’m in LOVE’ #this post is all over the place. again. I’m blaming the monster. #caffeine rushes always have a tendency to make me talkative #don’t worry I’m gonna go back to leveling my flying snake’s stats again

[finnyboywolfhard]

Shut Him Up

Richie Tozier x Reader 

Aged up 5 years after fight with IT so they are 18 :)

summary: The Losers Club has a movie night and Richie doesn’t know how to shut up. 

warnings: cursing, fluff

word count: 2.1k 

           Popcorn popped loudly in the vibrating microwave, Y/N maneuvered around the kitchen gathering the various snacks and drinks that the Loser’s requested. She grabbed a large bowl for the popcorn as a knock pounded against the door.

“Hold on!” Y/N dropped the hot bag and rushed over to the door, pulling it open with a huff, delighted to see Beverly Marsh behind the door. “Oh thank god it’s you.” Y/N said wrapping her arms around Bev.

“You sure are happy to see me.”

“Because I know you’ll actually help me get everything set up and not just goof off. If Richie was the first one here one more time I was gonna go crazy.” Y/N explained as she walked to the kitchen, handing Bev a few bags of chips and a tray holding drinks. Y/N poured the popcorn in a bowl and grabbed the packages of candy from beside her and ushered for Bev to follow her through the corridor to her Living Room. They dropped the snacks onto the table. Y/N looked down to see she was still in her “nicer” clothes.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get changed real quick, open the door if any of them come.”

“I need you to know I’m gonna snoop.” Bev yelled out as Y/N began bounding up the stairs.

“You always do!” Y/N yelled back. Once inside her room, she rummaged through her drawers to find an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. She put on a pair of socks, grabbed a few blankets from her room and came back down to a room full of teenage boys. She looked around at how the chairs and couches filled up, to see that she was once again stranded on the loveseat with the chatterbox himself Richie Tozier.

“Hey Bev! I think you might have left something in my room last week, can you come with me for a sec?” Y/N yelled, just peering around the corner. All eyes looked at her.

“What did she forget?” Ben asked as Bev passed by him.

“A girl thing, there’s a reason I didn’t say what.”

“Oh so a Brassiere!” Richie said in the annoying British voice before switching back to his own. “You could have just said Y/N/N, we all know you both have tits.”

           Y/N simply flipped him off and grabbed Bev’s hand to go upstairs. The two got inside Y/N’s room and Y/N just crossed her arms and looked at her.

“What? Why are you mad?”

“How the hell did I end up next to Richie AGAIN?”

“We practically have assigned seats at this point…” Bev said trying to play it off.

“Bullshit. Last week you sat in the La-Z-Boy with Bill and this week you’re on the big couch with Ben, Mike and Stan. What is up?” Y/N stared at Bev until she finally broke.

“Okay, he has a crush on you and is too scared to tell you so he keeps asking to sit next to you and showing up first.” Y/N’s jaw hung slack for a few moments before she snapped it shut and ran her hands through her hair. She collapsed backwards onto her bed.

“Beeeevvvvvv. This can’t be happening to me.”

“Oh please, like you don’t feel the same way.” Bev said grabbing Y/N’s hands and pulling her to sit up.

“What are you—“ Y/N looks at Bev who just cocks her head as if to ask ‘are you serious?’. “Fine, maybe I do. But he NEVER shuts up during movies. It ruins the experience.”

“Just ask him to stop, he’d do anything you ask, I’m sure of it.” Bev said. “Now, we have to get down there or else they’ll know this was definitely a lie.”

The two giggle as they leave the room and go back down the stairs. Y/N hip bumps Bev as Bev goes to her seat on the couch and Y/N puts in the movie.

“Kay Stanley, what did you bring us on this fine evening?” Y/N said as she glanced down at the CD.

“Forrest Gump. It was released in theaters a few months ago, the woman at Blockbuster said that it is a must see. It has Tom Hanks.”

“Oh that’s the dude on the poster in the Arcade!” Richie piped in.

“Yeah it is Richie! Doesn’t it have umm…the woman who played Princess Buttercup…umm Ro—“

“Robin Wright!” Stanley finished her thought. “Yeah it is, so you’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah my parents saw it, they loved it. I guess we’re in for a treat.” Y/N flashed her smile to the Loser’s as she tiptoed her way to beside Richie. She couldn’t help but notice that there was only one blanket on the seat.

“Hey guys? I thought I brought down a blanket for each of us?” Y/N looked around the room, the sound of previews playing. Her eyes finally landed on Bev, who had a curious smirk across her face.

“Oh…huh…when I was distributing them there was only seven…I guess you didn’t.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab another.” Before she could leave, Richie grabbed a hold of her hand.

“Don’t worry about that, just take this one. I don’t get cold.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. We all know that’s true.” Y/N said sarcastically, dropping onto the seat. The movie had only been playing for about 15 minutes and Y/N swore that Richie was leaning over and whispering something for 14 minutes of it.  

“Psst…Y/N/N…” Richie leaned over to whisper once more.

“What?!” Y/N whispered back with force.

“I actually am cold, can we share?” She looked over, he was giving her puppy dog eyes and her hard exterior was being broken with each second she held eye contact.

“Fine.” She untucked the blanked from under her and threw it across Richie’s Lap. She had to scoot closer in order for the blanket to comfortably cover them both.

“Oooh, awfully close there sweetheart. It’s almost like you like me or some shit.” Richie teased. Y/N just rolled her eyes and kept her focus onto the movie. The blanket and close proximity kept Richie quiet for a bit, but not too long.

“Y/N/N.”

“Richie, please, can you just shut the fuck up?” Y/N/N plead to him in a whisper. She looked toward him, unaware of how close they were, as their noses nearly grazed. Richie took in a breath.

“Make me.” He said, softening his frame. Y/N didn’t know what took over her. Maybe it was the fact that she wanted to actually watch the movie. Maybe it was the fact that she’s had a crush on Richie for the past two years. Maybe she’s using it as ammunition against his crush. She didn’t know for certain, but she leaned forward and kissed Richie. At first gently--longingly. But then she pulled his head closer to her for a more passionate kiss for a few seconds and then she pulled back. She sat back firmly against the couch. Richie sat dazed for a second, glancing between Y/N and his own lap before sitting back just as Y/N did.

           The credits began to roll when Mike leaned over and flicked on the lamp in the room. Everyone did the usual stretching and readjusting to light. Stan and Eddie started to small talk about the movie but their attention was piqued by Bev.

“Y/N, did you break Richie?” Bev asked, looking towards the boy who was sitting back against the loveseat, with love struck eyes and a confused look across his face. Every so often he would just look over towards Y/N and then immediately just back to his lap. Y/N glanced over for the first time since and giggled to herself a little bit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said just for the ruse.

“Look at him! He’s like…glazed over.” Eddie said flailing at the boy sitting there.

“Yeah, and I haven’t heard him in like 45 minutes, that’s not normal.” Stanley agreed. Suddenly, Richie snaps out of his daze and cockily turns to Y/N.

“Come on, Y/N/N. Show them what you did to me.” Richie smirked in the cockiest way he ever has. As much as she hated it, she kinda loved it too.

“Fine, I will.” Y/N declared in the same tone, making glaring eye contact as she pulled Richie in for a kiss. It lasted for a few moments before they pulled apart. They looked at each other for a few moments.

“What just happened?” Mike said blankly bursting the bubble the two were in.

“That was so…” Eddie pauses to gag. “So fucking nasty.”

“Wow thank you Eds for those touching words.” Y/N sarcastically said.

“Are you gonna explain or are we just gonna sit here?” Bev asked.

“He wouldn’t shut the fuck up during the movie so I asked him to, and he said ‘make me’, so I kissed him. It worked.” She said, maintaining eye contact with Bev, who then started to giggle. Richie’s eyes moved between the two girls, piecing things together.

“Fuck you Bev. You fucking told her.” Richie said standing up angrily, gathering his stuff up, clearly about to storm out.

“Richie I—“Bev started to answer.

“I don’t want to hear it. You both embarrassed me, I…I gotta go.” Richie tried to get past Bill and Mike who had now formed a barrier in front of the door.

“R-R-R-Richie, just listen to th-th-them.” Bill said.

“Why should I?” Richie said. Y/N nervously stood from the love seat and turned to face the doorway.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

“You’re fucking in love with me?” Richie asked shocked.

“Let’s go upstairs, shall we?” Y/N laced her hands through Richie’s and pulls him up the stairs. She slinks through her door and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her for Richie. He sits down, and starts wringing his hands. The silence is deafening. “Hey.” She said as she leans to bump into him.

“Y/N/N…” he said dishearteningly. As she looked at him, her gut told her to just say ‘Fuck it’.

“Richie I have had a crush on you since that day two years ago when you found me crying in the clubhouse. You just sat and listened to me, and you made me feel so…safe. It was a side of you I had never seen before. And I liked it. And then suddenly I started liking everything. Except for when you talk through movies, but everything else.” She giggled, and looked at him. She loved the way his curls framed his face and the way his brown eyes still sparkled unlike any other. She loved the way sometimes his mouth looked too big for his face. She loved the way he would overcompensate with his jokes. She loved the way he would tease and treat all of the Losers the same way, and that he cared about spending time with each and every single one of them. He was so loyal, and funny, and handsome, and he was just so utterly Richie.

“You were even pretty when you were crying.” Richie joked back. “I’ve liked you since after the fight with IT, when you asked me if I was okay. No one ever asks me that. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on to this whole fucking crush thing sooner.”

“I’m surprised you were such a pussy and didn’t make the first move.” Y/N responded back.

“Ouch, Y/N, getting me right where it hurts.” Richie pretending to stab himself through the heart and fell back onto the bed. He pulled a dead face, only for a second before he opened one eye and turned to her to see her reaction. Through breathy laughs, she leaned down to hover over the boy. His hand found a base at the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. It started off sweet and soft but as they realized the position they were in, Y/N flipped her leg over his waist in order to straddle him. The kiss began to pick up speed and passion. The two started to really get into it, only to be cut off by the Losers slamming the door open.

“Oh gross! You guys! We were right down stairs!” Eddie shrieked. Y/N climbed off of Richie.

“As if I would fuck him the very first night we’re dating.”

“We’re dAting?” Richie’s voice cracked with excitement. Y/N turned to him, gave him a peck and a smiley nod yes. “Oh Fuck yeah!”

“Does this mean we’re gonna find y’all making out during movie nights now?”

“God no!”-- “Hell yeah!” Richie and Y/N responded in unison, there were definitely a few things they still needed to work out, but they were happier than ever before.

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x you #it x reader #finn wolfhard x reader

[wizkiddx]

living and reviving II

yep when I said three parts I think I meant 4 oops

summary: an overdue conversation that has to happen - like it or not

warnings: cheating, swearing, pregnancy talk, lots more angst, think thats it?

tomhollandxreader

/////////////////////// prev

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

That had been three weeks ago.

And it still fucking hurt like hell.

It had ended up that Yamna had taken you back to hers, where you had stayed for a couple nights. During that couple of days, Tom had tried. He had tried to apologise, tried to explain, tried to fix things. But it just wasn’t that easy.

Whatever he said, it didn’t take back from the fact that he had in that moment meant it. So no amount of sorrys could ever take that back.

After everyone had realised just how serious their situation was, Tom had moved out of your shared flat - so you could at least be in the place you were comfortable. Afterall the nursery was built in your flat and clearly it was you doing all the baby stuff for the moment. Thankfully Yamna, having been cut loose so without job, offered to move in with you. Which was probably the only thing keeping you going.

Well, that and ben and jerrys ‘phish food’. Honestly the shop must think you’re running some sort of ice cream black market at the rate you’re getting through their tubs.

Everyone kept parroting that it wasn’t good for the baby. Too much ice cream . Too much heavy lifting. Too much stress.

And yes, it probably was. But that was out of your control . The stress and lack of man in the household meant you had to do the heavy lifting of shopping from the car up the stairs. Shopping meaning ice cream, which you only depended on so much because of the stress.

It was a vicious cycle of hell.

Even Yamna, the person you were relying on keeping you sane had started walking on eggshells. It was as though you were literally about to pop, she always had to have at least half an eye on you. You were even banned from locking the toilet door - just in case.

It felt like you were a captive animal, people kept coming to observe you, giving sad looks before gleeing the scene.

You hadn’t been sleeping well either. Of course, being 3 weeks of your due date didn’t help - but neither did the lack of Tom. In fact, for the first time since shit had hit the fan, you had actually been managing to get some decent sleep when Yamna knocked on your bedroom door, quietly calling your name.

“I’m asleep” Groaning, you pulled the covers further over your head, praying to god that she’d leave you alone. But of course that wasn’t happening, she just lightly chuckled before you felt the bed dip - she had perched on the edge… Toms side.

“You never normally sleep talk.”

“I’m never normally this sleep deprived.” She sighed, whilst you still stubbornly kept your eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I woke you…. but this is important.”

“What?” Almost grunting, you threw the covers down looking up at her in anticipation. That was another thing about pregnancy - you were always on high alert, always worried.

“Toms here.”

“Tell him to f off.” Quickly you stopped caring about what your bestmate had to say.

“He’s saying that he’s the little ones dad and that he deserves to be involved and…. and I think I might agree.”

“I deserve a boyfriend who stays loyal to me so clearly neither of us are getting what we want.” You weren’t angry at Yamna and snapping at her wasn’t the answer. And yet you still did it.

“Y/n….I love you and I am completely on your side. I just think that maybe, perhaps, you should at least manage to be civil before baby arrives. Otherwise… thats going to be a lot to deal with all at once.”

It was your turn to sigh, deep and heavy (or at least as deep as the baby let). Most infuriatingly she was right. The conversation had to happen at some point. With a baby there too it would only be even more traumatic.

“He’s here now?” It only dawned on you how broken you actually sounded when the words croaked out of you.

“Yeh hunny… I didn’t let him inside so he’s standing outside the door looking like a dickhead right now.” The image cheered you up a little, enough to sit up in bed and be wrapped in Yamna’s arms. Her actions said it all, she really only meant the best for you and knew how hard this would be. After a moment she leant back. “I almost considered calling the paps so they could get a picture and label him as a groveling dick.”

“You should of.” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the answer had you both laughing. It took a minute to calm down before she changed subject slightly.

“You want me to make myself scarce? I can hide in my room or go to the shops or-“

“Text the guy from the bar - you deserve a night off ‘babysitting Y/n’ duties.”

“I’m not babys-“

“Yes you are. Go out with him and have some fun, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeh”

That was a bare face lie - but Yamna had been almost too good to you. She really really needed a break. Especially as the current plan was she’d be helping with the newborn too. Right now you wouldn’t have wished a baby on yourself - never mind your best mate.

“Okay, get ready then babe - but do it slowly, leave him waiting outside in the cold for as long as possible.”

“Obviously.” You laughed, hauling yourself out of bed, where she gave you one more encouraging hug before leaving.

After hearing Yamna leave, and brushing your hair and throwing on a new pair of trakkies and hoodie, you slowly walked towards the door. It felt as though impending doom were on the other side and every fibre of you wanted to scream and run the other way. But it just had to happen at some point. Why not now?

With a final sharp exhale, attempting to pull yourself together, you opened the door. Immediately your heart sank, seeing nothing. Had you really been that long? And even so, was a 10 minute wait enough for him to give up? You could already feel the hormonal pregnancy tears starting to spring, when a grunt drew your attention.

What you hadn’t considered was the fact Tom was ready to camp out, sitting on the floor beside your door. Springing to his feet, he seemed shocked you’d actually opened the door - makes two of you. When Yamna left she had told him you were coming, but seeing really is believing.

“Y/n! I-I… I wasn’t sure you were ever going to answer.”

“You and me both.” You replied dryly, still leaning on the door. “Do you er…. do you want to come in?” Again he seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t sure you meant it.

“Is that-that okay?” Shrugging you just nodded, stepping back so he could get in. He did pay half the mortgage afterall.

“You want a drink?” He quickly declined your offer, not vocally but instead rushing past you to the kitchen and turning the kettle on himself.

“Your the pregnant one. Go chill on the sofa, I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

And a bit taken a back by his forcefulness you followed instructions, from the sofa watching how effortlessly he danced round the kitchen. It wasn’t shocking, it was technically his kitchen too. But seeing him there felt so alien, almost transporting you back to much much simpler times. Seemed a lifetime ago.

After a couple of minutes, he rounded the sofa with a hot chocolate in one hand for you (because caffiene is bad for the baby) and a cup of Yorkshire tea in the other.

“So… how have you been?”

“Ate a lot of ben and jerrys” You answered without really answering, except he knew you all too well.

“That bad?” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow “how about the baby?”

“I don’t tend to carry an ultrasound on me but she’s been keeping me up all night kicking - so normal I guess.”

“Thats good” He spoke before realising what he said. “Sorry no I um-I don’t mean it like that!” You all but laughed in the face of his flusteredness, only making the tips of his ears go pinker.

“I assume you had something to say and that you came here for a reason rather than just pity me?”

“I want to make things right Y/n - I-I mean your having my kid.”

“OUR kid”

“ Exactly! And-and I love you too and-“

“Bullshit” You may have murmured it under your breath but you had intended for him to hear.

“Oh come one Y/n, you know that!”

It was like the man was asking to be yelled at.

“Don’t sit there trying to patronise me! I THOUGHT i knew it but then I saw you all over another girl. So yes, I’m calling bullshit.”

“Ugh I… If your not going to even try to hear me out then…”

“Then what Tom? You gonna kick me out. I mean this is your flat after all! Maybe you’d like to dump the mother of your unborn child homeless on the street and forget about us - how’d that sound? I’m sure your fans would blindly applaud you.”

“Listen! Please would you just listen to me.” His voice was loud and tone harsh, making you flinch a little. Not because you were ever worried he’d hurt you - but how this wave of uncomfort shuddered through your body, baby even squirming in discontent. So focused on that you just nodded, shifting back into the sofa.

Tom had noticed your reaction and seeing you seemingly scared of him like that, well it broke his heart. Even more.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to shout, I just…. I really need to try and fix this.” He leaned closer, letting out a thankful breath when you just nodded, as if to say go on.

“I’ve really really missed you… these past couple of weeks I’ve never felt so gulity in my life. Not because of what I did! Well yeh that but-but more how much it hurt you and-“

“Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but let out that little curse of pain as a new wave of pain, which seemed to originate from your lower back, shuddered through you. Tom looked up from where his eyes had been nervously wringing his palms whilst he spoke. Rubbing a hand over your belly you shook your head and motioned for him to continue.

She was just kicking really really hard. Right?

“Uhm yeh so I just wanted to properly tell you everything that happened that night so at least we are on the same page? A-And I’m not going to try and use this an excuse but I had been drinking so-“

Seemingly baby disliked the end of that sentence too, causing another rippling wave to echo through your body, feeling as though a band was pressing tightly round your stomach. With another small curse it forced you to stand up, in the hope that’d ease her. Clearly she was as done with his shit as you were.

“Need a water.” You muttered, already waddling to the kitchen, where you heard Tom follow you immediately - like an inpatient dog.

“Y/n sit down I can-“

He was silenced by you freezing and grabbing his arm tightly - a physical contact he hadn’t been expecting from you.

“Tom… get your phone.” You spoke slowly, still not having dared to have moved an inch - fingers almost white from how tightly you were squeezing his forearm.

“Wha-are you-are you okay?”

“I think my waters just broke. Get the phone. Now.”

~~~ feedback is really appreciated + would love to know what u think as still in the process of writing so can be guided / helped by asks !!! ~~~

taglist: @maraudersandco @@minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @elishi03

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom x reader #peter parkqueue #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #tomholland #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x pregnant!reader #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland fluff

[h2bakugou]

Hi! Can I please request some headcanons for Izuku, Katsuki, Shouto, and Denki with an s/o who doesn’t like getting into arguments and will always try to avoid getting into one with their boyfriends either by compromising and/or just throwing in the towel and just admitting that whatever their boyfriend said is right and it’s because they didn’t have a great home life growing up and want to avoid becoming like their parents and the boys finding out and their reaction to that? Thanks!

a/n: hiya!! of course hun! i did a similar argument hc a while ago, but this one is vastly different in a few ways!! thank you for the request love!!

headcanon: them reacting to their s/o’s refusal to argue with them

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing, some angst, one mention of sky high, endeavor is trying™

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

»»————-　★　————-««

Surprisingly enough, there are a good number of times you’ve had an argument arise with Deku.

Not the ones where you playfully tease him about not sitting with you on the long trips you took as a class to places.

But the ones where you’d find him training for hours on end with no text or call to let you know that he’d be running late for a date, or a study session.

The ones where he’s so caught up in everything else that he doesn’t really make time to focus on your relationship.

Which wouldn’t be that big of a deal, had he just told you upfront that he was busy. But with the promise of always finding a way to make time for you, you were beginning to feel like maybe there was someone else, or maybe he didn’t really like you, like you thought he did.

But even when you were upset or angry, and Deku cornered you to talk about it, you’d shut him out and tell him it was fine, and that it really wasn’t his fault. It was yours for being so devoted to a relationship during such a serious time.

But Deku knew it was more than that.

Every time you seemed upset, or angry, or frustrated by something that seemed like something he’d done or may have had a part in, you always shut him down, telling him you’d get over it like an adult, and handle it.

“You don’t have to handle everything by yourself, let’s just talk about it, why are you feeling like this? You can talk to me, you know I’ll listen.” Deku’s comforting arms wrapped around you, preventing you from leaving this time around.

He’d spent maybe a few too many hours trying to learn some new moves and forgot that he was supposed to text you after the first hour to check up on you and your studies.

And when he finally came back after a shower, he realized you’d sent him a few texts asking if he was okay and if he was going to be done training soon.

“It’s fine, Izu’. I have some work I have to finish-”

“It’s not fine. I upset you, I’m sorry. But please talk to me. Why are you always trying to dismiss what actually happened?” Deku tried to capture gaze, only to find your lashes sprinkled with tears as you gave a shaky breath.

“I just don’t want us to end up like my parents. All they did was fight and argue.” You’d never really told anyone about that. Let alone anyone you’d been in a relationship with. 

In that moment, all Izuku could do was hold you closer, laying his head in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry. I should take your feelings into account when I make promises to you. I apologize for not keeping those promises.” Deku pulled back and looked into your eyes.

“And please don’t be afraid to talk to me. I know that’s scary to think about, but if I make you upset, just talk to me, we don’t have to scream or fight, we can have a civilized conversation together about something, and if you feel like we can’t, we can always have our friends help if you’re comfortable with that.” Izuku smiled softly, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks to wipe your tears away.

You pushed a small smile onto your lips, resting your face back on his chest as he held you close.

“I’m sorry too.” You apologized.

“Don’t be, it’s okay. Why don’t we watch a funny movie and relax? I can make us some popcorn!” Izuku was ready with some cheesy hero movie on hand, probably one about some superhero high school with a magical flying bus and a protagonist whose parents were the top heroes, a plot you’d begun to see more and more often these days with the progression of hero society.

“Sounds like a plan.” You giggled.

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

Bakugou argues with you because you won’t argue with him-

On a serious note, most of your ‘arguments’ start because he feels like you don’t trust him enough to talk to him about your feelings.

If you are upset with him for something, or if you feel an argument coming on, you’ll dismiss yourself, your feelings, say he’s right, and just back down.

And we all know Bakugou will not go down without a fight example a, the sports festival.

He gets defensive, if not a little more agitated when you don’t tell him what’s going on. Not that he’s entitled to know how you’re feeling constantly, but because if he’s going to be in a relationship, he wants communication between the two of you.

If there’s something you can’t communicate to each other, then it doesn’t need to happen or there’s a problem somewhere.

Which is why when you say that it’s nothing, or that you aren’t upset when he knows that that’s utter fucking bullshit, he gets angry. 

He won’t take his anger out on you, he’s not that kind of asshole. 

Even though he hates the assholes, he sometimes drops little clues to Kirishima or Sero.

But overall, he just wants to talk it out with you. He wants to understand what’s going on, why you’re feeling the way you are, what-if there’s anything-he can do differently to help you feel better or to prevent this feeling from happening again.

It all crumbles apart when Bakugou said he’d help you with some math homework that you’d be struggling on.

Only for him to be four hours late because he was sitting in detention for sparking a fight with some shit-talking smartass from a support class.

That night you had struggled to answer the problems on your homework, only to bomb the pop quiz on the same subject the next day. It was a mess, and you were upset.

Your grades of course were not Bakugou’s responsibility, but his responsibility was to at least give you a heads-up that the study session would’ve been moved, or cancelled.

Instead you stayed up way to late trying to understand problems that weren’t making any sense, and now your grade was sitting in a hole.

So you were upset. 

But when Bakugou questioned why you were so quiet around him, you just shrugged your shoulders.

“What gives? You not talkin’ to me or something?” Bakugou wasn’t exactly sure why you were mad at him until you packed up your things at the common room table, your low grade on the pop quiz and homework proving why you were in a bad mood.

And then Bakugou realized that was the homework he said he’d help you with.

“Shit, that was due Tuesday wasn’t it.” Bakugou grumbled.

“Yeah.” You mumbled.

“Hey what’s wrong with you? Did I do somethin’? Why you fuckin’ ignoring me and shit?” Bakugou’s fowl language was something you were used to. He wasn’t angry, he was confused, though his vocabulary could’ve fooled you.

“It’s nothing, you didn’t do anything, I’ve got to study to get this grade up, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You pushed on without another word, trying to escape back to your dorm.

At the mention of the word study, Bakugou then remembered the promised study session.

“Hey wait! I was supposed to help you do that shit, let’s go work on-”

“It’s fine, I got it. Go do whatever you want.” You didn’t look at him.

“No, now cut the bullshit let’s go study.” Bakugou tugged you up toward his dorm.

Inside you stood holding your things, your emotions beginning to bubble over as you watched him look for his bag, a stray bandage over his cheek from the punch the kid had thrown at him. Just staring at it made you upset.

“Why did you do it?” You asked quietly, your voice wavering.

“What? Do what?” Bakugou responded.

“I just wanted you to help me and...you-” You stopped yourself, realizing it was selfish to think it was Bakugou’s job to help you exceed in class. Shaking your head you held your things tightly and turned to leave.

“I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well-”

“Bullshit, what the fuck is goin’ on with you? You’re upset, I know you are, what’s the problem?” Bakugou stopped you from leaving, almost forcing you to sit on his bed and explain why you were so distant.

“No- it’s not fair to you, I can’t do this, I can’t argue with you over something so stupid, I don’t want to end up like my fucking parents.” You were crying at this point, tears flooding from your eyes as you dropped your things, your books scattering across his bed as you fell into his arms.

“Are you talking about the fight? You have to communicate with me if you want me to help you. Can you at least tell me what you’re feeling?” Bakugou wanted to help, but with no information, there was little he could do.

“I was just so frustrated, because I was looking forward to studying, and then I found out you were in that stupid fight and I felt like I was all alone, like you’d deserted me and so I just tried to do it on my own and I messed up, and I felt like it was all your fault. I know it’s not. Had I just talked to you we could’ve studied and I would’ve done fine.” You broke down, sobbing into his warm embrace.

“I’m sorry. Just call me out on my bullshit, okay? It’s not right that you gotta’ be affected by my own stupid actions.” Bakugou tugged you back from him to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Why don’t we try and do a few practice problems to help you better understand the material?” Bakugou offered, stroking his thumb over your cheeks to wipe your tears.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

After some silence of Bakugou helping you work through the problems, you thanked him silently with a long hug, just resting your head on his chest. He didn’t ask any questions about the comment you’d made, he knew it was probably a sensitive topic.

But he’d be there when you were ready to talk about it.

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

Todoroki doesn’t really like to argue, not like full on yelling and screaming at least.

If he’s having an argument, he’ll try his best to be civil about it, but sometimes he can get a little heated and possibly raise his voice.

He’s always been fairly outspoken, having to usually bide by someone else’s rules that he barely thinks for himself, but as of late, he’s doing himself a favor and being his own person, living by his own rules, and sometimes that means bucking up against others when they’re incorrect.

But when it comes to you, he can’t really see himself arguing with you, at least over little things.

However, he des find it rather upsetting that you didn’t mention you’d ran into his dad a couple days ago.

You’d just been out shopping and happened to bump into the pro and you said your hello’s, conversed for a few second about school before both continuing on with your day.

You didn’t think it was all that important, and for the most part you’d kind of forgotten about the entire incident.

You’d met Shoto’s father a few times before, which is why he recognized you as his son’s significant other.

So when Enji just so happened to mention the little meeting at a ‘family lunch’ on the weekend, Shoto was a bit surprised, and a bit concerned about the run-in.

Considering the first time Shoto introduced you to his father as his significant other, Enji was a bit opposed to the idea of his son having a relationship, but eventually he grew fond of you, thinking that it might be a good idea for his son to have something normal like a relationship, and go on dates, and live like a teenager.

Worried that he might’ve said something rude, Shoto brought it up in his room after eating lunch.

“Why didn’t you mention running into my father?” Shoto asked bluntly as he sat on his bed, watching as you straightened out your sweater.

“I didn’t really remember it when I came back to the dorms, it was quick, just said hi and talked about school for a few seconds before we went our separate ways.” 

“If it happens again just tell me, I don’t know what he’s thinking, just because he says he’s okay with us together doesn’t mean that’s what he really wants.” Shoto was almost dismissive of the fact that his father had actually just seen his son’s s/o in public, stopped to say hi and then get back to his busy day.

“It wasn’t anything like that, he seemed fine. He was busy, if he was upset it was probably just because he’d had a long day.” You lowered your voice, bowing your head before speaking again.

“I should’ve told you, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.” You were on the offense now, leaving your old statement in the past.

“What? Be mad at you? I’m not mad, I’m just concerned.” Shoto stood up and walked over to you, quickly noticing how emotional you’d become.

“Hey did I say something wrong? Please don’t dry, what’s going on, talk to me.” Shoto lifted your chin only to see your eyelashes coated in tears.

“I’m sorry! You’re right I should’ve told you-”

“Hey, hey, shhh.” Shoto hugged you, his warm arms wrapping around you as he held you close.

“You don’t have to side with me, if he was nice I believe you. Are you alright?” He asked pulling away to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“I just-I didn’t want us to argue or fight like my parents and I just didn’t want you to be mad-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad, and we don’t have to argue, we’re just talking, we’re not arguing, okay? It’s okay.” Shoto comforted you, allowing his hands to rub your back.

“I’m sorry.” You cried softly as he led you back to his bed to sit.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay to feel differently than me, it doesn’t mean I’m mad or upset at you. I’m here to listen when you need me to, please don’t feel afraid to talk to me.”  

Lifting your head to look at Sho, you pushed a small smile onto your lips.

“Your hand is cold.” You nudged his right arm, his hand touching your skin under the hem of your shirt as he held you close to him.

“Sorry.” He smiled, wiggling his fingers to tickle you.

“Hey! They’re cold!” You laughed through your tears, trying to get away from his icy fingers.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You pressed a small kiss to the back of his right hand, his cool skin resting against your lips.

»»————-　★　————-««

denki kaminari

»»————-　★　————-««

Kaminari doesn’t argue- at least not with you.

He’ll accuse Kirishima of cheating on some first-person shooter game, or yell curses at Sero for blue-shelling him in Mario Kart.

But he’s never really argued with you about anything.

That doesn’t mean you’ve never had opposing views. Most of the time, Kaminari just listens and tried to understand how you feel.

But more recently, as you progress through school, he’s been doing weird things.

Training longer, forgetting to text you-and he always texts you.

It hurts your heart when you see him smiling and goofing around with Kirishima when today was your movie-night.

You’re not angry at him, you don’t own him for the day, he’s allowed to do other things, but you feel upset. You feel like he doesn’t care about your feelings.

So you head up to your room early, not even bothering to say goodbye to him.

Only about thirty minutes go by when he’s knocking on your door asking for you, asking if you’re feeling okay and why you went back to your room so early.

“I’m fine.” You lie, your expression was more than telling of that factor. You had a pout on your lips, your brows weren’t up and happy, and your eyes didn’t sparkle at the sight of your handsome boyfriend.

“You’re not! What’s goin’ on shawty?” Kaminari always uses humor to make you feel better, that’s just what he’s good at. He can be serious too, but he likes putting a smile on your face before he gets all serious.

“It’s nothing, you were having fun with Kirishima, I don’t want to interrupt.” And without meaning to, you’ve spilled exactly why you were feeling so upset.

Kaminari stares at you with his wide golden eyes, shaking his head as he practically tackles you through your dorm-room door frame into a hug.

Wrapping his arms around you he hugs you close and smiles.

“I didn’t ignore you! Kirishima just talks a lot.” Kaminari is quick to assume you were slightly jealous.

“I-I, no no you’re fine! Go have fun!”

“No. I’m staying with you.” Kaminari’s voice is a bit rougher this time, forcing the fact that he was going to spend time with you now.

After speaking he realized you’re crying. He quickly starts panicking, wondering if his stern ‘Bakugou’ voice scared you.

“Hey, hey! Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He’s rubbing your arms and trying to wipe your tears away as they flow from your eyes.

“I didn’t want us to argue-I was just feeling weird and left-out and I-I’m sorry for being so jealous over something so little and stupid, please don’t be mad at me, I don’t want to fight and bicker like my parents do.” You don’t realize Kaminari’s expression softening at the mention of your fear, becoming like your parents.

“I’d never yell or argue with you over something like that. It’s okay to feel jealous or hurt, just talk to me about it okay? I can’t help you if I don’t know how to. We can converse like this about things, it doesn’t have to escalate.” Kaminari is soothing surprisingly. His touch is gentle even though it wanders.

Holding your hands is a nice feeling, and he enjoys holding them. Rubbing his thumb over your knuckles relaxes you as you lean in to rest your head on his chest.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize. I love you.” Kaminari kisses the top of your head and hugs you tightly.

“How about you pick out the movie this time! If it’s scary, you get the pleasure of cuddling into me!” Kaminari wiggles his brows.

“You were the one terrified to turn the lights off last time.” You giggle, lifting your head to wipe your eyes.

“I don’t remember that at all.” Kaminari teases, walking over to your bed to get comfy while you looked for a movie to watch.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

#deku #izuku midoriya #bakugou #bakugo #shoto todoroki #todoroki #denki #kaminari #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #shouto todoroki x reader

[lonely-lost-soul]

Where Loyalties Lie

(Technoblade X reader) 

Request 3: Can we get a little angsty fic or headcanon of Techno trying to get the reader to leave L’manberg?

Requested By: Anonymous

~~~

     “Tubbo please take a deep breath,” You followed him around the rubble as he paced restlessly. 

     “I’m president of a crater (Y/n)!” The boy pulled on his ears with a loud whine, “What am I gonna do. I can’t believe Wilbur blew it up-” He felt your hands touch his own and gently pull them away from his oversensitive goat ears. “What am I gonna do? I-I’m a kid…” You frowned, moving to cup his cheek with your hand. He nuzzled into it desperately, welcoming the comforting touch of someone who he considered family. 

     “You’re going to get through it because you’re strong.” You told him, “and so brave little ram.” He flushed pink letting out a whine of protest especially because he was still surrounded by most of his friends. 

You watch as Quackity walked over to the both of you and placed his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder squeezing it, “We’ll rebuild. We’ll be right behind you Tubbo.” He smiled at the kid and you couldn’t help but smile over at him. 

     “Thank you both. Truly.” 

There was one thing that had you were worried you may come to regret, and that was not taking Technoblade’s hand as he fled from the country. You were close almost touching it, he looked like he wanted to beg for you too but one desperate cry from Tubbo had you pulling away. He looked heartbroken but at the same time, you saw understanding in his deep red eyes. 

Family came first. 

That day he pulled you close pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be back for you.” 

You murmured a soft I’m sorry, turning to find Tubbo to make sure he wasn’t injured or dying. The thoughts of the festival replaying in your head, you couldn’t go through that...not again especially because now Tubbo was officially on his last life. Tommy couldn’t fathom how you didn’t blame Technoblade for what happened that day, but to you, two things were clear: one was that Tubbo didn’t blame him which made it easier on your end to forgive him; two Schlatt was manipulative and overwhelming as fuck you can’t blame someone for something they were peer pressured into doing. Speaking of Tommy you ended up finding Tubbo and him in the rubble that day, the taller male was pressing cloth to Tubbo’s bleeding arm desperately, when you took over and Tommy seemed grateful. 

However, you had to push your possible regrets aside and focus on the new nation you’d help build, and build it you did. You worked endlessly for months on end creating a lovely new nation for people to live in, Tubbo had dubbed it New L’manburg. You felt his pride and happiness, he just loved seeing everyone together again and happy once again. Finally, the server felt somewhat normal after all that destruction, even if there was a Techno-shaped hole in your heart. Things changed rather quickly when Tubbo was, in your eyes, manipulated to exile Tommy by Dream. You had tried to argue for the boy saying that not only was he Tubbo’s friend but just a kid. You were shut down harshly by not only Dream but Tubbo as well, the look in his eyes was filled with so much loathing and frustration. It’s the first time he ever snapped and was harsh to you, you felt your own frustration bubble up in your chest. You turned on your heel and marched back up into your house, you were not going to put up with this behavior. When you slammed the door shut, and turned around to find Technoblade standing in your living room,  with your cat purring fondly on his shoulders; you almost screamed.

     “Heh- why are you scared it’s just me?” The hybrid complained his nose scrunching up, “Don’t be cringe- oof-” Techno grunted as you threw your arms around his waist, the man flushed to the tips of his ears and looked away from you, Taffy hopped off his shoulders disgruntledly, “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.” He pet the top of your head tenderly and you looked up at him with a smile. 

     “What’re you doing here Tech? If Tubbo finds out he’ll have your head.” 

     “Then I guess we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find me then huh?” He mused lips, quirking into a smile, and you nodded in agreement. “Other than that just running some errands. I’m in retirement now you know. I have to say that ‘New L’Manburg’ is certainly a name.” He did air quotes around the name and you nudged him, 

     “Be nice.”

     “Boo Cringe. I’m a Blood God starlight. I don’t do nice.” 

     “Bullshit,” You punched him in the arm, “Tea?” 

     “Please.” He cracked a smile as you walked over to your tea kettle heating the water and grabbing some tea bags. 

     “So, you came here to run some errands huh? I almost thought you missed me?” Technoblade shuffled a little behind you, how could you read him so perfectly? It was complete and utter bullshit. You heard him click his tongue distastefully behind you and you couldn’t help but smirk cheekily,

     “Get off my back woman.” He stated gruffly as you laughed, “but I guess I do miss you a little bit.” You smiled fondly and softly cooed at him and he let out another scoff, 

     “A little bit?”

     “What is this interrogation? You a cop now?” You placed his tea in front of him and he took a sip,

     “Yeah, we’re gonna need to do a strip search. Drop your pants.” Technoblade choked on his drink, face turning the darkest shade of red you’ve ever seen from him. You howled with laughter sliding down in your seat beside the man. 

     “I changed my mind. I didn’t miss you at all, you’re a terror.”

     “You love me, admit it.”

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He murmured looking at you with a sudden softness that was out of character for him. You didn’t notice the change but it was there, oh if only you knew how much of what you said was true. He did love you. He ran his tongue across his teeth and reached out to interlock your hands within his own. 

     “Come live with me.” 

     “Tech…”

     “I’m in retirement now. I’m going to get some turtles hopefully, maybe some other pets while I’m at it. There’s a lot of room...It gets lonely all alone you know. It’d be nice to have you there with me.” He watched hesitance flicker across your face again just like the day Wilbur blew up L’Manburg. Your thoughts went to Tubbo and how much he needed you, especially now that Tommy was exiled. However, you were also brought back to a few moments ago where Tubbo snapped at you for trying to help. You took a ragged breath and pushed his hand away, he frowned sadly bringing his hand back down to his lap. 

     “I need to be here for Tubbo. He’s a kid Tech...way over his head. Dreams sniffing around him like a dog looking for his next victim to manipulate. I can’t let that happen, not to him. I know he’s President of this nation and you hate him for that, but he’s my brother and I love him. He’s a tough kid with a lot of fire, but I can’t just leave him in the dust. I love you,” You reached up and cupped his cheek and Technoblade felt his cheeks burn at the implication, “but I can’t leave until Tubbo is safe.” 

     “I’ll convince you one day.” Technoblade shot back even though his heart ached, that you wouldn’t be coming home with him. But Technoblade wasn’t known for giving up. He was stubborn as hell, he’d win you over yet. You’d come home with him, he’d confess to you and he’d make you the happiest person in the world. You just...didn’t know it yet. 

     “I’m excited for the day you do Tech.” You snickered softly, you both were startled by harsh knocking on the door.

     “That’s my cue. See you soon Starlight,” Technoblade hummed slipping right out the window, you watched him go longingly. You shuffled towards the door and opened it slowly, on the front steps stood Tubbo who was rocking nervously on his feet. 

     “Hi…” 

��    “Hey LR...you okay?” Tilting your head to the side,

     “Is LR supposed to stand for little ram?”

     “Problem?”

     “No…I suppose not.” He murmured before clearing his throat and straightening his back, “I wanted to talk with you.” 

     “Oh?” You raised an eyebrow watching him nod his head sternly, you walked outside and closed the door behind you so you could lean on it. “Shoot,”

You watched as Tubbo swallowed thickly, “First off I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. It wasn’t fair of me to snap.” He watched you nod a little urging him to continue, “however, I am the President now and you have to respect my authority.” Eyebrows furrowing together in frustration you opened your mouth to counter him but he held up his hand, “Dream has an idea of how to rule. He can steer me in a better direction-”

     “Pardon me?” You let out a disbelieving laugh, “A better direction? Tubbo, are you forgetting everything we all fought for, we fought him for independence. He killed us!” 

     “He might’ve changed!”

     “He exiled Tommy!” 

     “He deserved it!” Tubbo shouted back as your nose scrunched up, “He’ll steer me in a direction that you never could!” He snapped before realizing what he said, he slapped his hands over his mouth eyes widening to the size of saucers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-” 

     “Go home Tubbo.” 

     “(Y/n) please,” He reached out towards you and you held up your hand, 

     “Go reset the day. You need rest,” You frowned, turning back into the house “see you tomorrow.” Inside the house you shut the door on him and slid down onto the floor, you brought your hands to your mouth and swallowed thickly. A part of you wished Technoblade was still here just so he could tell you to get over yourself, he wasn’t skilled in the art of comforting others, but he could make you laugh. To keep yourself sane you reminded yourself that Tubbo was a child and needed you now more than ever, especially if he thought Dream was dishing out good advice. But you were hurt and a selfish part of you wished you could just go live in retirement with Technoblade and not worry about the new country forming, but you couldn’t ditch Tubbo. 

Running a hand through your hair you sighed loudly, one might wonder what exactly could Tubbo do to make you listen to Technoblade’s offer. Honestly, you had no idea if anything would make you do that unless of course they just started executing people or something ridiculous like that. 

Restless was how you’d describe the rest of your night, you tried to sleep but after a few hours of tossing and turning you gave up. You decided to make yourself a ‘healthy’ midnight snack, a small bowl of mac & cheese, you didn’t care, you were sad. You sighed softly scratching behind your cat’s ears, “It’s just you and me against the world Taffy isn’t it?” Her purrs rang in the air as she snuggled against your hand, distracting you just enough to swipe a noddle from your bowl. “You fat bitch!” You hissed as she ran off back up the stairs, you leaned back in your chair and sighed, literally nothing was going your way today. Just as you finished up your snack you heard a soft ping upon your window, turning to the sound you noticed your neighbor Phil awake in his house. He held up a hand and waved at you through it, and with a small smile, you waved back. He shuffled back into his home, I guess you both were insomniacs together, Techno knew how to pick a certain type of friend it seemed. 

You walked back up to your bedroom and slid under the covers once more, maybe you were wrong and things were going to get better. 

Months went by and nothing seemed to change much to your disappointment. Tubbo and you were still a little rocky, you had forgiven him for his harsh words but he always put Dream’s and even Quackity’s opinion before your own. When you came back from visiting Niki one day and saw wanted posters of Technoblade all around the country you almost had a stroke. You confronted Tubbo about it and only half answered you before running off when Quackity called him. That worried you, he normally didn’t like lying, especially not to you. 

The same day you were walking into the market to get some fresh fruit when a hand shot out from the wanted poster and pulled you behind it. You were held flush against someone’s chest who chuckled gruffly, you recognized that chuckle anywhere. “Techno! What’re you doing here?” You asked looking up at him with eyes filled with concern, “don’t you know you’re a wanted man?”

     “I think that just makes this all the more exciting.” Techno mused running his fingers through your hair, “Plus it’s not like anyone here can catch me.” 

     “Wrong I could catch you.” He dared to laugh in your face, 

     “Sure you could, and I’m half sheep.” Technoblade mused and he watched you huff cutely, “Don’t get all huffy at me you know I’m right.” You only waved him off, “seriously though I’m here to do some trading with Phil.”

     “Oh…” You gave a nod, “Will I see you more frequently then?”

     “You could see me all the time if you moved in with me.” Techno joked again and was surprised to see your face fall a little. Are you serious? Was he getting you to crack? “Starlight?” 

     “Ask me again in a few months and I might say yes,” You teased brushing the question off swiftly, Technoblade didn’t pry but he could tell you were almost convinced. Just what was going on in this country to make you want to leave your little brother? “Now shoo, go see Phil before he gives up on you.” You gave him a little shove and he stumbled off with a huff sticking his tongue out at you in the process. 

After that encounter, you didn’t run into Technoblade for another very long stretch of time. About a month or so after that encounter, Tubbo had shown up at your doorstep a complete nervous wreck. He begged you to help him, claiming he needed diamonds for an upcoming project and wanted you to acquire them for him. “Tubbo I don’t understand why I need to go on this trip? I have diamonds I can just give you. You know I don’t care.” 

     “But I feel bad about it,” Tubbo argued with you “please just do this for me.”

     “You know I’ll do anything for you. If you want me to get them this way I’ll do it. I should be back tonight is that okay? Do you need them sooner?” Tubbo looked relieved as he took your hands in his own, 

     “No tonight is perfect!” The boy chirped sounding more like himself than he has in months, you couldn’t help but smile. You ruffled his hair a little before kissing his forehead, 

     “Then tonight you shall have them, Little Ram.” 

Tubbo helped you gather the materials you needed for a trip down into the mines, Tubbo even gave you some fire resistance potions. You thanked him for the potions before putting on your armor and heading down into the tunnels. As you were down in the mine the concept of time was always an illusion, so when you finally found diamonds for Tubbo and you left the cave you were surprised to see the sun was just setting. You hummed softly to yourself walking back into New L’manburg excited to show off to Tubbo you couldn’t help but wonder what he needed them for in the first place. However, when you entered town you were greeted by a gathering going on at the center. Everyone seemed to be there clad in what looked to be butcher’s outfits, your vibe was immediately thrown off eyebrows furrowing in concern. Quackity was giving some sort of speech and that finally drew your eyes towards the podium, locked inside a cage was a fuming Technoblade. You rushed towards the group, pushing past Ghostbur and a blue sheep, and grabbed tightly onto Tubbo’s arm. 

     “Tubbo what the fuck is happening?” He tensed turning towards your face. It was no secret that you and Techno were friends, this wasn’t good at all.

     “(Y/n)! You’re back early!” He spoke nervously rubbing his hands together as Quackity turned towards you, 

     “Welcome back!” Quackity hopped off the podium with a smirk, “Fundy grab them.” 

     “Quackity hey wait a minute-” Tubbo started as Fundy roughly grabbed onto your arms pinning you in place, 

     “Ow hey! Watch it! Let go of me!”

     “Get your hands off them!” Technoblade snarled nostrils flaring grabbing the bars of the cage tightly. 

     “Quackity you said we’d leave them out of this!” Tubbo argued and your jaw dropped staring at Tubbo, “You promised!” 

He waved Tubbo off with a scoff, “they’re just as bad as Phil, Tubbo. She needs to be punished. We can't play favorites when trying to run a country. We’ll execute Techno then deal with the other traitors.”

     “Execute?” You choked, “you can’t be serious! Tubbo you cannot be serious, since when are you okay with public executions?” He refused to look at you, his hair covering his eyes, he only nodded his head in Quackity’s direction. 

     “Do it.” 

     “Tubbo!” You shrieked watching Quackity grin maliciously, moving over to pull the lever that would allow the anvil to fall and crush the man below it. 

What happened next was a cluster fuck, someone began trying to set off TNT, and Quackity pulled the lever. It fell rapidly towards Techno and he pulled something out of his pocket, in a flash of bright colors and bursts of light Technoblade was ripped apart and pulled back together again. He was alive, Technoblade really doesn’t ever die. He hopped on top of the anvil and jumped the bars of the cage, Fundy had long since lost his grip on you, he noticed Dream ushering him inside a cavern and he paused a moment. The hybrid turned towards you holding out his hand one final time, the world seemed to stop a moment and it was just you and him. His face held a desperate look in it, almost pleading you to take his hand within your own. You flashed back to the day Wilbur blew the country up, Tubbo called your name you glanced over your shoulder once towards Little Ram. You reached into your bag and dropped the diamonds you found for him on the ground, you grabbed Technoblade’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Technoblade smiled and yanked you forward, leaving a heartbroken Tubbo in your wake.

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #technoblade x you #technoblade imagines #dream smp #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp x you #dreamsmp drabbles #dreamsmp imagines #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x reader #minecraft x you #minecraft youtubers #minecraft youtuber x reader #minecraft youtuber x you #platonic tubbo x reader #angst #fanfiction #fanfic #drabbles #imagines

[babyboibucky]

Undeserving (Deserve Better Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You confront Bucky about his decision to abandon you.

Word Count: 2,868

Warnings: More angst lmao I’m sorry for this

A/N: Honestly struggled with this because 1) I couldn’t decide on how to end it and 2) I was pressured from the feedback I got from Deserve Better. I’m not entirely happy with how this came out and initially, I planned on doing an epilogue for those who’d prefer a different ending but decided against it. Anyway, if you guys have more questions about this, send me an ask! I’d love to discuss more about this lol luv u all as always. Feedbacks are highly appreciated and I hope this was good enough for y’all who enjoyed Deserve Better xoxo

Deserve Better || Undeserving || Deserve The Best

MAIN MASTERLIST

-

You chose to stay.

Despite seeing the love of your life— whom you had waited for years— in the arms of another, you stayed at the gala. It was after all, to honor Steve’s legacy and you respected him enough not to walk away and miss out on the speeches given by people dearest to him, Bucky included of course.

You weren’t sure if he had seen you and the way your eyes brimmed with tears when everything finally made sense to you. He wasn’t far from you when you stopped in your tracks, mouth parting as a soft whimper escaped past your lips.

You had never imagined that heartbreak could be so physically painful. And it wasn’t the regular pain you’d feel after an intense workout or when you scraped your knee. The hurt was different, like your heart was being tightly squeezed into someone else’s palm. It was choking you, constricting you of oxygen as if you were drowning. No matter how much you tried to reach the surface, the pain just kept on pulling you down until there was nothing but darkness and well, pain.

Once the program was over and all the guests were left to mingle, you carefully slipped out of the crowd. Mindlessly, you walked and walked and walked until your feet began to hurt from the heels you were wearing. When the cold and crisp air of the evening embraced you, it was then that you realized that you reached the compound’s garden, just behind the main hall where the gala was happening.

The quiet gave you time to think and process everything that had happened. Bucky left to find himself and to become better, that he did. And you waited only to discover that he’d been back for quite a while now but chose to be with another.

As you looked out in front of you, your vision turned blurry as a new wave of tears escaped your eyes. Your grief had resurfaced after repressing it for so, so long. Grief from Bucky’s goodbye, from his absence and from waiting, grief from seeing him with someone else; no matter the cause, all in all it was grief nonetheless.

Bucky’s soft voice calling your name echoed in the evening air, it was so soft that you almost thought that you were hallucinating. But then he’d called you again, using the pet name that used to make your stomach flip and your heart to flutter. It still had the same effect now, you realized, only that it came along with an immense amount of pain that made your blood boil.

Hearing Bucky call you that, it almost felt like poison. It was quiet, gentle even but it left a bitter taste in your mouth as you felt its venom run through your veins until you could no longer feel anything but pain.

“Doll—“

“Don’t.” you seethed and turned around, pointing a shaky finger right at Bucky. “Don’t call me that when you’re with someone else, James.”

Bucky flinched at the way you had addressed him. You saw how his face faltered upon seeing you like this. His vibranium arm was restless against his side, as if he wanted to reach out to you but knew better than to do so.

“I waited for you!” you spat.

If he found somebody else to become better for, he could at least let you know. But he didn’t and you needed to know why he chose to abandon you. You needed it so badly, for your own peace of mind. For closure. You deserved that, at least.

“I’m sorry, I—“

“No, you don’t get to say your side until I’m done with mine!” you insisted. “I have every right to be selfish right now. I can choose to lash out on you or refuse to even listen to whatever your reason is for abandoning me no matter how valid it is. I fucking deserve that, Bucky.”

Bucky closed his mouth and nodded; you hated how he was staring at you as if he just lost his moonlight, as if he still loved you. If he did, you wouldn’t be confronting him like this and you wouldn’t have seen him with someone else.

“When Steve told me that you disappeared, when it felt like there was no way to bring everyone back, I waited. It didn’t feel right for me to move on from you just like that and deep inside I knew that you were going to return. Five years, Buck. I waited five years for nothing.” you said quietly, recalling how devastating those five years were.

You didn’t know what would happen then, nobody knew. Would they still come back? The chances were slim and yet you trusted your gut and decided to remain hopeful. It wasn’t easy to wait for something or someone that may never come back. But you still did and it never even crossed your mind that you may just be wasting your time.

You let out a breathy chuckle, “And then you came back and I felt alive again. But then you said goodbye.” you pursed your lips in an attempt to hold back your tears but to no avail.

It took you a while to collect yourself and Bucky let you, until you spoke again and told him how much it destroyed you when he walked away from you.

“Everyone else told me that I shouldn’t wait. Not again after those five years. But it felt easier this time around because you told me you wanted to get better. For me. And I was excited, Bucky.” you told him with a chuckle. “I was excited to see your return. I looked forward to how we’d spend our time together when you come back, if you’d cut your hair. If you’d wear the same cologne that I loved.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you recalled those times you daydreamed about Bucky’s return. The wait was agonizing but it gave you something to look forward to. At least you weren’t waiting for nothing anymore. Bucky was leaving but only temporarily, you were sure he’d come back. But the smile vanished as soon as it appeared and before you knew it, you were sobbing again.

“And now you’re back and so much better. But you aren’t mine anymore.”

At this point, your grief had consumed you both physically and mentally. You knees wobbled but you didn’t hit the ground, no. Instead, there was warmth against your skin followed by the smell of a certain cologne, enveloping the air around you. Bucky caught you in his arms and he held you tight as you cried into him.

“Shh, doll. I’m here now.” he whispered before pressing a kiss onto your crown.

As much as it felt right to be in Bucky’s embrace, it wasn’t enough to overcome the betrayal he did. You groaned in frustration and pushed him away, stepping back and hugging yourself instead.

“Why?” you asked quietly.

“I need to know why and how we came to this.” you asked, almost begged for Bucky to give you the closure you badly needed.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair as he paced before you, his cheeks stained with his own tears. “I came back for you.” he said.

You frowned, “When?”

“I couldn’t wait to see you again and as soon as I got back, I went straight to your office. But then you weren’t working there anymore, I found out that you finally landed your dream job at the law firm.” he said with a small smile. “I was so proud when I heard that. I was supposed to go to your apartment but something came up and I needed to meet with Sam first. Weekend came and I was on my way to your place when I saw you. And you were with someone else and you looked....happier, the happiest I’d seen you.”

Something clicked and you quickly shook your head, “Andy. No, he’s not...we were never together. This is a misunderstanding, Bucky. He and I were never—“

“I know.” Bucky admitted.

“What?” You asked, voice soft from utter confusion.

“You looked happy with him, not because of him. I know you weren’t in love with him because if you were, you would have looked at him the same way you’re looking at me now.” He explained sadly.

Hearing Bucky’s explanation made you angrier. If he knew that, then why did he still leave? What reason could be bigger than that to make Bucky wake up one day and decide that he no longer wants to come back to you?

If he knew you loved him so much to actually wait, why did he leave you like that?

Your brows creased, “If that’s not the reason, then what?”

Bucky shrugged, “I realized that you didn’t deserve me. I left to better myself for you, god I really did. But when I saw you and how you managed to be successful without me by your side, I figured that you were better off without me. I thought I got better, but seeing you again looking so beautiful, happy and just...maybe I’ll never be the right one for you.”

You bitterly chuckled at Bucky’s revelation, “This doesn’t make any sense to me, Bucky. You chose to abandon me because you thought I was happier without you?”

You felt offended that Bucky even thought of that. Did he not trust you when you told him you’d wait for him? He didn’t even show up to tell you that, to give you the chance to reassure him how much you love him. He just decided that it was better for him to leave you hanging?

“That’s bullshit, Bucky.” you spat. “You left me hanging because you thought you were weighing me down and the next time I see you, you’re with Sharon now. Who by the way, used to date your best friend. I don’t understand any of this.” you told him.

Bucky looked at the ground as he evened out his breathing. There were a few seconds of silence between the two of you. Only heavy breaths and the distant sound of the music from the gala lingered in the air. It was almost comforting. Almost.

“Sharon and I...it wasn’t easy for us when Steve left. It was something that we both had in common. We wanted to fix ourselves and in the process we just...it happened. I didn’t mean for it but it just happened.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

The pain was replaced with grief and then anger. A little sympathy was thrown in the mix too upon hearing Bucky’s reason but now you were back to square one. Pain.

“You worried for her when Steve left but didn’t worry about me when you chose to leave me hanging? You told me you needed to fix yourself alone because you didn’t want to hurt me in the process of doing so. Guess what, Bucky? You hurt me all the same. Even more so when you chose to stay for Sharon and when you allowed her to help you fix yourself.”

Bucky remained silent as he simply gazed at you and let you say your piece. You just couldn’t understand where he truly was coming from. You knew about his insecurities and you accepted each one of them. You’d wholeheartedly accepted Bucky from the moment you knew you loved him, that included his flaws and demons, even on days he hated himself.

“Don’t shut me out like that again, please?” You asked Bucky, when he finally let you inside his room after isolating himself for days.

He had those days, when he couldn’t bring himself to come out and just...live. He’d push people away and torture himself with negative thoughts. But you always stayed no matter what.

“‘m sorry doll, I just...sometimes...I love you so much but sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough of it to actually show you. And you don’t deserve that.” He explained.

You smiled and cupped his cheek, “That’s okay, Bucky. I love you and the amount of love I have for you is more than enough for both of us.”

Was your love not enough for him all along? For him not to consider how you would feel if he just decided not to come home to you anymore? You shouldn’t be blaming yourself for everything, you did your part. But you couldn’t help but wonder whether it was because of you that Bucky chose to walk away.

“I love you, I really do. And you deserve the best and I’m not...that. I chose to let you go so you can have that.”

“I don’t need the best version of you, Bucky!” You quickly cut him off. “I just need you.” You added.

When Bucky decided to leave to get better, you let him even though you hated to see him walk away. You’d be selfish not to, especially when Bucky was finally free to decide things for himself. It was for the best, but honestly speaking, you didn’t want a better version of him.

Whether it was the Winter Soldier or James Buchanan Barnes, whatever version of him he’d give to you, you love Bucky all the same.

You love Bucky so much that it was so painful for you to hear that he actually thought you’d be happier without him.

“You don’t deserve someone as damaged as me. Even if I got better, I’m still struggling and I don’t want to make things hard for you.” Bucky said.

“And you don’t get to decide what you think I deserve! You don’t get to abandon me like I was nothing, like we were nothing to you.” You seethed.

Bucky looked away, blinking his tears away as he tried to compose himself. His jaw tensed as he looked at you with an apologetic gaze.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me. You didn’t have to.” He said the same thing to you when he left, and it hurt just as much.

“I love you. I’ll wait, Bucky.” You murmured and tugged at his hand before he could even let you go.

Bucky smiled sadly at you, “You don’t have to, doll.”

You shook your head and brought Bucky’s hand to your lips as you cried, “I want to. And I will.”

“I know. But in all those years you were gone, I woke up each day and chose to wait for you. I always chose you, Bucky.” You said with a sad smile.

You stumbled a bit and lifted your dress enough to reveal your bleeding foot. You’d walked that long, for your feet to get wounded and ironically, you couldn’t feel anything but the pain of seeing Bucky again. He tried to approach you and help you out but you waved a hand and kept him at an arm’s length away from you. You removed your shoes and straightened up, looking at Bucky and his ocean blue eyes for one last time.

“I’m sorry if you felt like you weren’t enough. You’re more than enough for me, Bucky. I really thought that I could love and fight for the both of us, but I guess not.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else, and you hoped he would. It might have been pathetic of you to wish that he’d come back to you, but you really hoped he would say something to fight for you. He didn’t and that was enough for you to make a decision.

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

You bit your lower lip as you turned around, holding back your tears as you jogged back into the gala. You walked past everyone in the crowd in a hurry, wanting to head home as quickly as possible. And then you came face to face with someone you weren’t prepared to confront.

It’s as if time stopped when you saw her, Sharon. She must have found out about your presence. Did she know of Bucky’s decision to abandon you? You wondered how she helped Bucky better himself, why he let her stay as he fixed himself.

Why Bucky chose to be with her instead of coming home to you.

You could feel your chest constrict again, the pain continuing to consume you whole. If you stayed any longer, you were afraid you might break.

“Do you love him?” You asked her softly.

Without missing a beat, Sharon nodded her head. “I do.” She whispered.

“How much?” You asked again.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.” Sharon responded and you could feel the sincerity in her statement.

The way she said it wasn’t meant to hurt you nor mock you. It was reassuring, in fact. Like she was making you a promise that she was going to take good care of Bucky the same way you did. Maybe even more. You swallowed as you nodded, forcing a small smile before looking away to wipe a tear that slipped.

“That’s good.” You simply said. “Because I’d do anything for him too.”

Anything. Even if that meant walking away and giving up on a battle that you’d already lost the moment Bucky decided to abandon you.

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar  @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @tcc-gizmachine @prettyintopeerpressure​ @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @​thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi 

Deserve Better Special Tags:

@nervous-plant @wintersfilm 

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #sebastian stan

[astranva]

Locked Out

Word Count: 1.6k

Warning: Few swear words.

Category: Angst to fluff.

Prompt: “Stop running from me.�� 

Summary: Communication is key, but you locked Harry out.

let me know what you think, anon! hope you like this🤍

// masterlist // 

..

When you ask couples of their best period, they would tell you that it’s the “honeymoon phase” of their relationships.

They’d swear up and down on the cute gestures their partner did, giving you a list of all the fuzzy emotions they felt during that very time, how everything left a lingering sweet taste that they longed for.

Some would say that their honeymoon phase wasn’t just that, a phase, but it was a belief that both partners could practice so it would linger and embed itself into their relationship with no signs of decay from the passing years.

These are the same people who would go on and on about how it was communication that kept all these “sparks alive” and how important confrontation was; how being with someone meant that you unravel yourself to them.

Harry knew that seeking perfection was pointless because nobody would ever reach that, not him, not his closest friend, and not you.

It was why he accepted how you were a closed-off person when you began seeing each other; you weren’t one to open up and spill out your emotions and deepest thoughts that were anything but the happy aura you had around you at all times.

He accepted you.

It was acceptance that built the 10-month relationship.

You were there for Harry whenever he needed you, during the bad and good; the stress of writing a new record, the stress of how the world saw him, the stress of wanting to reach a perfection he knew didn’t exist.

You held him at night as he was naked in more ways than lack of clothing would be. It was when he was vulnerable and felt small that your heart clenched, feeling helpless even though you were the first person he sought after good news or an uneasy day.

It was you who held him as he cried. It was you who assured him when the industry made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. It was you who cursed at the world when it gave him shit for his self-exploration and self-love that you praised him for.

It was you.

But it was never him.

It wasn’t because Harry didn’t care nor didn’t put effort at helping you feel at ease; it was because you had denied him of that privilege.

You fought your demons on your own to a point where you tried convincing everyone around you that you didn’t have any before shifting the conversation so that their needs and state were put before your own.

Besides crying that one time as the both of you watched Marley & Me, Harry had never seen you cry, although he heard you a few times.

It happened one time, 3 months into your relationship. He was surprising you at your office with lunch, smiling and greeting your colleagues whom he had seen a few times before he reached your office, putting a finger to his lips as to hush your assistant with a smile before he quietly opened the door to your office.

Your chair was turned towards the window, and if Harry was any louder, he could’ve missed the quiet sound of your sobs.

“Lovie?”

And he heard you gasp and saw your arms moving furiously before you turned, avoiding eye contact as you took a gulp of the glass of water on your desk.

“What’s wrong?”

He was gentle, he knew he was. So why did you tell him that you were “just a little tired”?

And then it happened again at a party Jeff was hosting.

He noticed that one minute you were beside him as he talked to his friends, the next you weren’t.

The music wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t quiet enough to make you hear your phone. He had searched for you everywhere before finally trying to check if you were at the restroom.

He knocked, “Y/N?”

His ear was pressed against the door and it was why he heard the sniffle before he heard your voice, “I’ll be out in a minute!” Your voice broke at the end.

“Are you okay, Lovie? Do you want me to come in there?”

“No, H. I’m fine.”

I’m fine.

Two words Harry never believed.

And although he tried to get you to talk that night, assuring you that he would listen to whatever that was on your mind, he reached the same dead-end street – you were “fine.”

The both of you were shopping when it happened.

Holding two bags in one hand, Harry held your hand in his free one as you walked outside the Gucci store he wanted to visit.

You were midway through a laugh at Harry’s reminder of how you looked in one fiery red and brown sweater that you tried and he had taken a picture of when suddenly a shout directed to you sounded from across the street.

“You don’t fucking deserve him, you fucking gold-digger!”

Harry was a royalty when it came to not giving haters the reaction they wanted, but to hear something directed to you so directly and vulgarly, he was seething.

His head instantly snapped towards the source, looking at the girl who insulted you, standing among other fans and paps.

It was you tugging on his hand that had him drift his attention, “Let it go.”

“Let it go?” He questioned, face hard as you somewhat dragged him towards your car, “No, this wasn’t-”

“Harry, please.”

“She just insulted you.”

“Just get in the car, alright?” Your defeated look almost made him soften – keyword: almost.

Harry got inside with a slam of the door and a scowl on his face, running the car before driving.

Once he got out of the street, Harry glanced at you, “Are you not angry?”

“No.”

You couldn’t be real.

“But you know it’s not true, don’t you?” He asked with concern, glancing from you to the road.

With every passing second that you remained quiet in, Harry’s heart seemed to break.

“Don’t you, Y/N?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You said quietly, moving your legs so that they didn’t face him before you looked out of the window.

“Of course you don’t,” he found himself saying, “You never do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frowned, turning back to look at him.

“It means you don’t talk to me, Y/N. Ever.”

“I do talk to you.”

“I mean opening up, Y/N,” he clarified, “I’m always bitching about my problems, crying to you and ranting about everything, but I just don’t get why you don’t do the same. Not even the slightest. And don’t give me the because there’s nothing wrong bullshit, please, because we both know that’s not true.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Your voice was raised a little.

“I just want you to trust that I won’t judge you, that I’ll listen to you,” he frowned, “That you don’t have to do and feel everything on your own.”

You remained quiet for the rest of the ride and Harry hated it.

Reaching your apartment, he followed you up and into it, cautiously watching your every move and how you seemed to keep distance from between the both of you.

“What do you want for dinner?” You asked him, your tone almost fooling him and driving him into denial of how nothing wrong had happened only some minutes ago.

Softly, Harry sighed as he watched you begin to take out a few ingredients from your cupboards, “Are we not going to talk about what happened? You want us to just sleep on it?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

Your reply angered him, his jaw clenching for a second before he squinted his eyes at you, “Will you ever stop doing that?”

Sighing, you turned to face him, “Doing what?”

“This,” he gestured towards you, “Denying any discomfort or feeling just because you want to convince everyone that everything is fine when something isn’t, Y/N.”

“You know that I’m not one to open up. You knew that before we got together.”

“I do and I accept that, but can’t you see that it’s unfair, too? I had to find about Jim stealing your designs from your assistant, Y/N. I had no idea that you were terrified of cats until Sarah told me, yet you let me place Evie on your fucking lap and didn’t utter a word! I can go on for days, Y/N,” Harry said, the frown not leaving his face before his face softened, “It’s like every time I finally catch up with you, you run away.”

“It has always been like that for me, don’t you understand that?!” You shouted, mentally cursing at yourself at how your eyes grew tearful.

“I do understand and I understand that it’s something we can work on together! As a couple, a team,” he gestured at the distance between the both of you, “I just need you to help me out, Y/N!”

“What the fuck do you want me to do?” You threw your arms in the air.

With a soft expression and a pained look, Harry’s shoulders slumped down. “Stop running from me.”

Sensing your uneasiness, Harry approached you, engulfing you in a hug as he tightly wrapped his arms around you, feeling you clutch to his sweatshirt.

And then he heard it.

You let out a sob, crying into his chest as you shook against him.

He said nothing, but Harry held you.

“I’ll try,” you had managed to let out and although it was muffled, he heard it, “I’ll try, I promise.”

Harry moved his head to press a kiss to the top of your head, pulling away slightly to cup your face and have you look up at him, “At your own pace, Lovie. No rush.”

You only nodded, face looking innocent as Harry left a kiss on your nose.

“No rush.” He promised.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles angst imagine #angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst one shot #otp angst prompts #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff imagine

[seonghwanotes]

calm after the storm | jeong yunho

pairing: yunho x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i will slaughter any sasaengs, please fuck off thank u theyre my source of happiness, im wishing u hell and beyond if u even think of fucking their lives up

Half past twelve. The clock was ticking every single second as you waited for your lover to return but he didn't reach home yet. Usually you wouldn't mind but after receiving a call from Mingi, whom you rarely spoke to, you were about to leave to pick him up.

"Y/N, no! Don't go to him… he told us to not tell you but I had to because I know he didn't make this decision with a straight mind. Just wait for him to come home and talk to him."

Knowing that it wasn't Yunho to behave this way, you waited for him to come home even though you were worried and scared that he would not return anytime sooner. But when you heard the sound of your door's keypad beeping, your heart was at ease to see him home safe and sound.

Yet, you couldn't help but ask him, “It’s midnight, where the hell were you?”

Yunho took off his shoes and walked inside your home, ignoring your question before he went upstairs, heading to your room. His silence made your blood boil but you didn’t stop there as you walked to your shared room, looking at him.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls?” You asked in a calmer tone, hoping he would answer.

He sighed and did not answer you. He dropped his head and remained silent. It was obvious that he was drunk and usually, you would have let it slide and tucked him into bed but after hearing what Hongjoong had told you, you knew you had to do something about it before he regretted anything the next morning.

"Yunho, I'm talking to you."

“I had my phone on silent.” He mumbled, his hand moved to his head and he massaged his temples. Your heart dropped to see him this weak and fragile, you wished that you could have helped him out before if you knew what was going on but it was too late for that.

“Stop keeping your phone in silent, you got me worried!” Your voice cracked, tears started to well up into your eyes. He looked up where his eyes shot daggers at you, “It’s my phone, I think I can do whatever I want with it. Can we just not talk about this now?”

Before you could utter another word, Yunho got up and walked past you as he headed towards the bathroom. You turned around and grabbed a hold of his wrist in a soft manner making him stop and look at you, “Did you tell Hongjoong you're going to leave the group?”

The look of fury left his face the moment the words left your mouth. He froze in his spot and you looked at him, hoping for an answer in return. "I… who told you that?"

"Yunho, is it true?" You asked, looking at the taller boy. His tired eyes gave away the truth as he couldn't give an answer and pushed your hand away.

His face was pale, the eyebags underneath his eyes were evident, his lips were dry and chapped, while he reeked of alcohol. It hurt you to see him this way, which made a tear roll down your cheek.

Yunho was never a heavy drinker but these past few weeks, he had been drinking a lot and he was drifting away from you and he never spoke to you unless you initiated the conversation first. You always thought he was stressed due to work so you wouldn't ask him a lot of questions but maybe that was the first mistake you made in your relationship, causing him to decline in this manner.

"Did you think about it?" You asked, not breaking eye contact with him, hoping he would talk to about it. He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh, "Yes, I don't want to do this anymore."

"But why? You're only proving them right by letting the hate get to you. You're only letting the girl enjoy what she wants by leaving the group." You told him.

"Can you please go away?" His words slapped you across the face, making you flinch at his high tone. There wouldn't be any good outcome if you insisted on fixing things so you left him alone in your room and went to your living room.

•••

You ended up falling asleep on the couch for a few hours before you woke up and saw yourself covered with a blanket and your head was supported with a throw pillow. You searched around for your phone until you realised your hand was being held by someone.

Panicking, you got up abruptly and tried to pull your hand away but a sleepy Yunho got up and didn't let go of your hand.

"No… Stay with me Y/N… Don't leave me too…" He mumbled, head dropping on the couch before he dozed off again.

Your heart ached at the sight of Yunho being like this, not capable of helping himself when he always gave a helping hand to others. You looked at his tired form and you started weeping, the earlier events coming to your memory.

"The hate got out of hand and the management said they would handle it but Yunho didn't want to cause them anymore trouble."

"Did the management sue them for defamation?" You asked, still in disbelief that an anti would go this far to ruin one's life.

You've seen this happen to other idols and hate was definitely a common thing artists face when they're in the entertainment industry, but the boys always handled it well and never gave it a second glance. Everyone has their breaking point but the boys were extremely patient with all the bullshit thrown at them.

"We were going to… then Yunho said he wants to leave the group. Then he just left the building and drove off. I'm sorry to call you this late, Y/N. I don't think he would tell you what happened." Yeosang added, after Mingi spoke.

Yunho must have heard you crying cause he got up and rubbed his eyes, looking at you in confusion. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You sniffled, wiping your tears away as you looked at him in the dark. His eyes were puffy and swollen, making you cry more. His large hand moved to your face and wiped the tears away, before he sat beside you and pulled you into a hug which you didn’t hesitate hugging him back.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” He asked in a small voice, making you look at him.

“What? Why would I leave you?”

“Because I left everything and everyone I love, you’re the only one I have left.” He croaked out, innocence coating his words. You shook your head and hugged him once again, rubbing his back with your petite hands.

“You still have time. You don’t have to let go of everything and everyone you love because of someone’s jealousy towards your happiness in life.” You told him, earning a sigh from him. “This isn’t just your career, Yunho, it’s your passion and your dream that you’ve worked for. Don’t let it go because of one’s negative vibes.”

“Do you think they’ll still accept me if I went back?” He asked, resting his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed in agreement, “KQ can’t let go of their lucky guy, you know.”

Hearing Yunho’s giggle made you feel a tad bit better. You held him for a few minutes, embracing the silent shared between you two before he spoke up. “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“Just… talk to me if something is wrong, okay? I’m always here for you and we can talk it out and figure something out,” You breathed, resting your chin on his broad shoulder.

“Okay.” Yunho said, pulling away from the hug. He took your hands into his and held it, giving out warmth to your body as you shuddered from the cold temperature in the living room. “I think I’m going to take a break before I continue on with the group activities, I’m going to need time.”

You nodded, happy that he was willing to take time off instead of leaving the group full time. “Okay, we can let your manager know tomorrow. Should we head to bed now? It’s so chilly here.”

He chuckled, giving you a soft smile before he took you by surprise when he closed the gap between the two of you with a quick, chaste kiss. When he pulled away, you looked at him with a clear question mark plastered on your face.

“What? I missed doing that to you.”

“Doing what?” Your voice came out smaller than you expected it to.

“This.” He said, before leaning in again for a full kiss, sweeping you off into dreamland with the taste of his bittersweet lips. You kissed him back, hoping to be in the moment for a little bit longer but Yunho pulled away. You tutted at his action whereas he smiled back at you.

“Maybe this break will do me more than just good. It feels great to be like this.” He muttered, making you wonder.

“Be like this?”

Although there was almost no light visible in the living room, you could have sworn that you saw his eyes twinkle as he looked at you and answered, “Just you and me; that’s all I want.”

#ateez fluff #ateez #ateez angst #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop #seonghwanotes #ateez yunho #ateez x reader #yunho imagines #yunho x reader #jeong yunho #yunho fluff #yunho angst #yunho fanfic

[vivithefolle]

Can I join your anti-Hermione club? Is there an application form? (In all seriousness, I'm so glad there's someone on Tumblr who is anti-Hermione for good reasons. It drives me absolutely insane how much the fandom worships her. I respect her intelligence, but there are so many absurdly unethical things she does. The hexing of Marietta Edgecombe - I researched it, it's both against contract law and would almost certainly be considered assault - was crazy, and even crazier was that it's excused.)

Hahaha, no application form needed, just a lot of bitterness and a touch of rage.

Something that really annoys me is how people are trying to tell me I'm doing Hermione-bashing when I give her the what-for. Or try to say "but she was a teenager :(". Really, freaking really? So when Hermione scars people on the face she's being a teenager but when Ron is pissy for a night in fourth year he's a total asshole? No, nope, not gonna let that lie.

My issue is that Ron's mistakes are teenager-sized; making an ass of yourself during a soirée, dating someone you're not really interested in because you're flattered by the attention, getting mad at your friend over silly stuff, saying stupid things without thinking... teenage mistakes. Those are teenage mistakes. (Something could be said of his leaving on the Horcrux Hunt but. Bitches. Voldemort himself (a part of him at least) was there singling him out for torture. Not to mention the heavy blood loss, the fact that his family's in danger, etcetera... But of course nobody is willing to accept those circumstances, nooo, it's only Ron who's the sole responsible for leaving absolutely, right, "Hermione is a teenager :(" and "Harry has PTSD :(((" but Ron isn't allowed to have problems of course. Fucking hypocrites.)

Meanwhile Hermione wakes up everyday and chooses violence and not for good reasons. I mean when your first reflex to distract someone is to set them on fire surely that indicates some issues? (Later on she forgets that she can use magic to light a fire... against a plant. I mean. How. How do you come to the conclusion that you should light a person on fire to "distract" them but cannot apply that reasoning to a goddamn killer plant.) The thing is people just... because we're constantly told that Hermione is intelligent/has good grades/works hard, people are quick to assume that she's obviously the most mature one in the room. But being a hard worker isn't necessarily a "proof" of maturity. It's just that people's expectations are that "a studious kid" is a mature kid, but really what they mean by "mature" is "doesn't annoy me to hell and back by playing noisily".

There’s this huge manipulation that plays on people’s expectations: being coded as “the studious girl” people are told through stereotypes that Hermione is smart, mature and logical… and the text is quick to try to reinforce the idea by having her spout definitions (=”smart”, for a degree of it; it’s mostly good memory), scold others for being rowdy (=mature, except that she’s not above it all either and a big part of maturity also involves REALIZING YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES which, Hermione’s don’t, so oops) and have her solve some puzzles or explain things (=logical… but sometimes her reasoning is based on emotion and she just tries to find evidence to justify why she thinks it’s right, rather than go from one thing to another).

When people try to brush off the fucked-up things Hermione did with "well she was a teenager" or "it was the war effort"... no. Fuck no. She didn't have to wipe her parents' minds and memories, there was the Order, the Dursleys were treated better than Hermione's parents for God's sake. But the only thing that matters about Hermione's parents is that they can be conveniently sacrificed to let us know how brave their daughter is right, it's not like she's in anything called the House of the Brave or something, it's not like she's constantly being thrown in mortal danger and is scared but keeps pushing forward, no we absolutely HAD to have a plot point that involves Hermione destroying two people's identities so we know how brave she is (how was any of it brave? Bravery is risking yourself, not the life of two innocents who barely know what's going on and are in no position to fight back).

And with the Romione fandom trying to push back to "nooo but she was a teenager m'kay she had her reasons for everything"... You want to get back to the Dark Ages where Hermione can do anything to Ron and it's his fault for not being perfect enough for her? Because that's how you go back to the Dark Ages.

In concept I love Romione. In the books I love it till about Book 3 (and even then that's pushing it because Hermione's utter disregard for Ron's pet sits very unwell with me, BUT okay fine she's still a child, it's her first pet, she has no idea how to own a pet and she's not used to being mindful of others' feelings. Then she gets validated by the plot because Scabbers was Pettigrew and somehow that means Hermione wasn't horribly callous to Ron's feelings or anything... meanwhile had it been Ron buying Crookshanks and Scabbers being Hermione's pet everyone would have been like "but who cares that Ron was right in the end, do you see how horribly he hurt poor Hermione's feelings!!!"...

It's just. No more excuses. Hermione is fucked-up. As a person, not just because of the war. She had a vicious, vindictive streak that only got enabled through the books because she never was called out on it. And I mean, I'm all for standing up for yourself, or for slapping Draco Malfoy's bitchy ass ferret face. But fuck. When you're doing the magic equivalent of an acid attack on someone's face, when you're physically abusing someone you're supposed to love AND THREATEN TO DO IT AGAIN AS IF IT WAS SOMETHING CUTE OR QUIRKY, when you're brainwashing your own parents into compliance because you can't be bothered to lie to them or make the Order get them... You know how many fics I've seen that take the "I did actually Confund my examiner" exchange from the Epilogue and run away with it to make it so Ron gets in a horrible car accident or invent entire collapses of the Statute of Secrecy as a result of an investigation connected to this "ha ha look it's funny Ron cheated on his exam" moment? Why don't I ever see a fic talking about how Hermione erasing her parents from existence leads to the destruction of Wizarding society through the legal bullshit that follows? Because Hermione dear, did you think to alter "Wendell" and "Monica"'s birth certificates? Their marriage contract? Their VISAs? Their bank accounts? Otherwise you've just turned your parents into homeless vagrants hopelessly lost in Australia who can't ever find a home anywhere because they simply don't exist in the eyes of any government. But hey nobody ever thinks of that because it's so much easier to nitpick everything Ron does. The only thing folks notice about Hermione nowaday is Emma Watson's boobies.

... I'm sorry, I just... Ugh. People.

#vivi answers #ask #hermione granger #hermione granger critical #hermione critical #ron weasley #ron weasley defence squad #ron weasley defense squad #harry potter #harry potter series #hp fandom #hp meta

[irrelevantwriter]

White Flag

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, public sex, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, slightly vulnerable Rio, declaration of feelings (sorta?)

Word Count: 4.3K

Summary: Part 5. Two months without seeing or speaking to Rio has left a significant mark and feelings finally decide to show themselves. Kinda.

A/N: I hope everyone had a good holiday or at least a chill Friday. I come bearing gifts with the next part of our favorite toxic saga. More smut for my lovely readers. But first, some plot. We jump right into it and just like our favorite non-couple, we gloss over a lot of bullshit and get right to the filth. But as a Virgo I love communication so I have to make these two stubborn assholes talk about their issues a little. At least in a vague way. Also, Rio has his read receipts on bc he is a petty king. There’s one more part after this and it's all naughty fun from here. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

A/N dos: I’m thinking about making the next part strictly from Rio’s POV. I feel like it’ll give us a peek into what he’s thinking and a new take on the series thus far. I’m excited to explore that so let me know what you guys think!

*Read Part 1 here

*Read Part 2 here

*Read Part 3 here

*Read Part 4 here

*Read Part 6 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

*********************

“So you’re just gonna eye fuck the hot stranger at the bar all night?”

Your friend’s teasing cut through the haze, jolting you back to the dimly lit bar. The music boomed around you while people drank and danced, enjoying the Saturday night out in the same way you and your girlfriends were.

“I was not.” You insisted, though the coy smile you wore said otherwise.

The group of women scoffed and rolled their eyes, seeing right through your faux innocence.

“Besides,” You started, taking a sip of your drink as the song changed into a bass heavy melody. “He’s not even my type.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Kara interjected with a raised brow, shaking her head.

You opened your mouth in surprise, but bit back your response when the other women chimed in.

“She’s right.” Evelyn agreed, throwing her dark hair over one shoulder.

“We knew you in high school and college, remember?” Nikki threw in, pursing her lips knowingly in your direction.

“Okay, so?” You said with a poor attempt at nonchalance.

“You were all over guys like that when we were kids. Paul ended up being the black sheep of the bunch.” Kara reminded you with a laugh, Evelyn and Nikki joining in with their own drunken giggles.

“Yeah, we were convinced you’d marry a felon with tattoos and not a real estate broker who wore khakis.” Nikki quipped, causing another round of laughter and snorts.

“Okay, okay...I get it. So I had a type. I think I’ve grown out of it.” You cut in, sounding as if you were trying to convince them as much as yourself.

“Not if the hottie at the bar has anything to say about it.” Evelyn joked with a wink.

You shook your head as you took another sip of your drink, unwilling to let them see you flustered. Or that they were in fact correct. You definitely still had a thing for bad boys...bad men to be more specific.

The evening had been going smoothly so far. It was a rare girl’s night out. An event that happened only once every five years when kids were shuttled off to babysitters or their fathers, and the women were able to enjoy an adult meal with adult beverages. Schedules between four busy women didn’t often align so when they did, you all jumped at the chance to indulge in the nightlife you’d left behind in your younger years.

You’d been the one to suggest the bar. It was a swanky, sophisticated space with an air of youth. The perfect mix for your outing. You’d been here only one other time.

With Rio.

Thinking of the man made heat pool low in your stomach, despite your lingering frustrations. It’d been two months since that shit show of a night at your house. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since. After that debacle, you blocked his number. As childish as it may have been, you were angry. Still were. And rightfully so. He’d been a complete dick. He’d chosen the most inopportune moment to make adjustments to your arrangement. He’d been careless in his deliverance, harsh even. The entire exchange had you questioning everything. And instead of analyzing the situation and communicating like adults, you’d decided to stop all interactions with him. You’d wanted to send a message. Just as he had with you.

After the argument, you’d been an anxious mess in the days leading up to the next drop. But it was all for nothing because Rio wasn’t there. And neither was the new contact he’d told you about. Instead, Mick was waiting for you and offering up no other information. And it’d been that way for two long months.

In the days since, your mind wandered to Rio often. Your body lingered on his phantom presence constantly. You replayed the conversation you’d had a million times over and each time it made deep fury spill over and mix with the lust still raging like white water rapids through your veins. You missed his touch. Missed his desire for you. Missed the way he made you feel, so supremely sexual and wanton. All things you’d been lacking in your marriage. And now they were suddenly hitting you square in the face and begging you to pay attention. Begging you to not lose the source of your sudden awakening.

You missed the toxicity of your interactions. You were two twisted souls fighting for control over a situation that belonged to neither of you. And in truth, the basis of your relationship with Rio was denial and attraction. It would continue to thrive on that as long as you both refused the obvious.

So maybe, just maybe you’d come to the bar in hopes of seeing him in order to test that theory. It was a slim chance he’d even be here, but you were just buzzed enough that you were willing to roll the dice and find out. Plus, your desire for him felt like an extension of your body at this point. You had to satiate it. Had to feed the raw passion that grew stronger each day without him. It demanded it. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. But your own hand didn’t ignite your body the same way his did, asshole or not.

“I’ll be back.” You called over the music, gesturing to the darkened hallway that predictably led to the bathrooms. Your friends nodded and went back to flirting with the handsome blue-eyed waiter.

You shot a meaningful glance in the direction of the bar. To the “hot stranger”. Whether or not he’d take the hint was on him.

You made it to the single-use bathroom easily. It wasn’t late enough for it to be crowded with the surge of a Saturday night crowd, but the place was still busy. You set your purse down on the sleek surface of the sink counter, admiring the emerald green tiles that paved the walls. The fixtures were brass and gleamed in the light of the vanity bulbs. It was a beautiful space. Carefully crafted for a magazine like Architectural Digest.

Your eyes swept over your reflection in the large mirror that sat over the sink. You made sure not a lash was out of place as you surveyed your appearance. You adjusted the low neckline of your yellow dress, the hue radiating more gold than you’d initially noticed. The silk material felt cool against your heated skin, the slit in the skirt offering some relief. The long sleeves of the garment added a sleekness to the otherwise risqué ensemble. You’d never worn the dress. But tonight seemed as good a time as any to debut it.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open made you pause, eyes watching in the mirror for who entered. You wondered if it’d be him. Wondered if he ended up following you like you’d hoped.

Your stomach knotted when Rio stepped in, closing the door and locking it with a resounding click. He was stoic. Shrouded in black and looking every bit as menacing as he truly was. A sight for your sore eyes.

You turned to face him, your chest both tightening and expanding at seeing him in the flesh. He made your heart stutter and your spine tingle, yet irritation slowly seeped into your pores, reminding you of the last interaction you’d had with him. It was a clash of sensations and feelings. It was utter chaos. And it's what you’d been missing.

Silence hung in the air as his gaze roamed your figure, appraising you hungrily. You shivered, careful to hide the gesture from his intense stare. You schooled your features and angled your chin up in confidence that you weren’t entirely sure you felt. But you weren’t going to budge. You were going to make him come to you.

He was leaning up against the door, a barely there smirk adorning his lips. His scent began to eclipse the smell of vanilla soap that permeated the air. Your eyes wanted to roll back at the familiarity of it. It was soothing. A comfort to your deprived senses.

“You miss me, mama?”

That deep rasp made your panties soak immediately. It was a question he’d asked you many times in the past, but you’d never felt it as much as you did now. Because yeah, you did fucking miss him.

You stayed silent.

He chucked at your refusal to answer. “Still mad at me?”

Again you said nothing.

He licked his lips, eyeing yours as he did. “I tried calling.”

“I blocked your number.” You finally responded, voice icy and detached.

“Damn, that’s cold.” He said with an amused shake of his head and a laugh, the sound making your nipples harden in traitorous lust.

“Why? Did you need something?” You questioned coolly, crossing your arms over your chest to hide your mounting arousal. Your thighs rubbed together, beginning to slid against each other as your arousal made itself known.

He stepped forward, heading in your direction with intent. You straightened your back, unwilling to let him get the upper hand on you. You knew what was going to happen. Knew where this was headed. So why not use it to your advantage? Why not toy with him for a change? He deserved it. 

You used the added height of your heels and eased yourself onto the countertop, parting your thighs slightly so that your dress fell between them. You leaned back on your hands, the chill of the marble countertop beneath you reminding you so much of that day in your kitchen.

Rio’s steps halted momentarily as he watched you, eyes zeroed in on the juncture between your thighs that was hidden behind the silk. Your pussy practically begged for his attention. Dared him to see your need through the fabric that shielded you.

You were still upset with him. Still displeased with the way he’d chosen to handle the situation and you. But more than anything you wanted him to succumb to you. You wanted to feel that thrill of having him at your mercy. So powerful, yet so fragile in the midst of his bliss. You wanted...no, needed him to wave his white flag first.

“Tell me then,” You began, slowly easing the hem of your dress up as you spoke. “Business or personal?” You questioned, wanting to know if he’d be truthful about why he’d tried to contact you.

He resumed his path towards you with a dangerous lick of his lips, but his gaze never faltered as it took in every new stretch of skin that was revealed. He tried to reach out and touch you, but you raised a heeled foot to his abdomen and stopped him, keeping him at a distance.

“Answer me.” You breathily demanded.

His face registered your words while his eyes took in the stretch of leg that kept him away. You eased the limb back down and waited for him to comply.

He decided to play along.

“Business.”

He continued walking when you didn’t stop him, standing between your legs and trailing his fingertips along the inside of them. His movements shifted your dress up even higher onto your thighs. The sensation would’ve tickled if you weren’t already deliriously turned on.

“Liar.” You accused, already feeling his warmth radiate onto you as he edged closer. His breath mingled with yours, mint and whiskey assaulting your nose.

“So are you.” He retorted, eyes planted firmly on your parted lips. He moved in until you were sure he could do nothing else but touch his mouth to yours. And yet you still weren’t going to meet him.

“So we’re both liars?” You asked, arching a brow up at him.

“Yeah.” He nodded and swallowed, the tattoo splashed across his throat pulling your focus. You fell captive to his spell as you got lost in memories of licking and sucking the inked flesh, remembering the way he tasted on your tongue. The recollection caused your legs to widen and your back to arch into him, pushing your chest against his. God, you wanted him. You wanted him so badly that your pussy clenched around nothing, as if feeling him already deep inside you. It was a silent call to a lover. One he would never hear. But he’d feel it soon enough.

Your clit throbbed against your lace panties, aching to be assaulted by his talented fingers. With him so close you could feel just how badly you needed him inside you. It felt wrong for him not to be. Felt wrong to not have him share a pulse with you when he was this near. You were going to remedy that.

“Well then,” You whispered, leaning forward to hover over his lips. “I don’t want you to fuck me in this bathroom.”

His hands glided up your thighs while his nose skimmed along your cheek. His breath was hot against your ear as he maneuvered himself so that barely a sliver of air was left between you.

“So I won’t.” He lied in return, the words coating you like his cum had done numerous times before.

In an instant your lips were being pulled to his. His hands were suddenly everywhere and all at once, seeking out your flesh in desperation. It pleased you to know just how badly he needed you. How badly he craved you.

He slid you closer to him, letting your lace-covered lower half come into contact with his crotch. Ragged breaths and low hums filtered through the air as your bodies grinded against each other, seeking firm hands. You could feel him pressed against the zipper of his dark pants. He was hard. The notion made you moan into his mouth, scraping your nails over his scalp.

It was just like riding a bike. Except there was an added layer of intensity this time that hadn’t been there before. His touch burned hotter than usual. Your grew cunt wetter with every pass of his tongue along yours. They weren’t new sensations, but they felt different. Indescribable. Perhaps it was the public sex. Perhaps it was the underlying tension. Either way, it was remarkably explosive.

You pulled away from his insistent lips to take in air. He continued on, mouth moving over your neck and across your exposed cleavage. He nipped at the flesh, his lips sensuously soothing the area as he explored. You pushed into him in invitation, widening your legs so that he could press harder into you.

You waited for him to take the next step. Waited for him to escalate the moment into more than just heavy-petting and sloppy kisses. His hands, as if reading your mind, traveled up the skirt of your dress and found the edge of your panties. There was no hesitation or teasing in his movements as he roughly pulled them off, the elastic popping against your skin and making you cry out.

Rio licked at your neck in apology, his own hands now moving to his belt. You shifted closer to the ledge of the counter and followed the trail of heat that led to his pulsing cock. His flesh bumped against you, the feel of him hot and heavy along your soaked slit making you whimper.

Your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt as he pushed forward and sheathed himself inside of you in one hard thrust. You gasped and tightened your legs around him, your right hand in search of something solid. It landed on the mirror behind you, your palm sticking to its cool surface as you braced yourself for the inevitable.

His facial hair scratched at your skin as he buried himself into your neck. He held your hips steady as he retreated and then plunged back into your welcoming walls, stretching you with a burn that made you hiss. Your pussy massaged his length with fervor, seducing him further inside and begging him to claim you once again.

You reached for anything you could to stabilize yourself as he fucked you into the reflective glass at your back. Moans and groans intertwined as your bodies rocked against each other. The soap dispenser fell into the sink with a loud clatter as you accidentally made contact with it. The stack of towels folded neatly near the faucet became disheveled as your ass knocked them out of place with the momentum from Rio’s cock. The entire vanity shook with each intensely thorough thrust of his hips into your womb. It was animalistic. The very epitome of what bathroom  sex in a bar should be.

No words were said. None were needed. Your actions led the conversation.

You squeezed your inner muscles around him, daring him to surrender before you. He twitched, his hips stuttering at the feel of you so tight and wet around him. He growled into your ear, a sure sign that he loved the gesture a little too much.

So you did it again.

“Stop that shit.” He grunted, hips picking up their pace.

“Cum.” You whispered in response, the demand disguised as a request.

“Fuck…” He groaned when you held him to you and clenched around him once more. You trapped him, giving him no choice but to experience your deliberate enticement. His fingers dug into your thighs almost painfully so, forcing you to wince.

He was close.

You reached between your bodies and massaged your clit, feeling your pussy react immediately. Sporadic tremors vibrated your walls and his cock, making both of you moan. Rio’s palm slammed into the mirror at your back as he rutted his hips harder into yours. He was rough and unforgiving, the aggression heightened by your disobedience. It had never quite been like this. There had always been a touch of softness, a soothing placation or word of encouragement. Not tonight. Not as he fucked you so hard you were sure the mirror was going to crack and rain down luminescent crystals of glass over you both.

You showed no mercy as you forced him to submit to you and your body. The precipice was there. It was within reach. You could feel that tightly wound coil ready to unravel. It felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Your mind was a prisoner to your pleasure. You thought of nothing but the sweet release that you knew was waiting for you. And it was. It was waiting for you with open arms as Rio finally came, triggering your own climax as he filled you so deliciously full of himself. His entire body tensed within you as he held you firm and painted your shuttering walls.

The familiar sensation only added to your high as your limbs tensed and loosened with each wave of euphoria that washed over you. You squeezed your eyes shut and catapulted through space as your body struggled to ground itself once again. Rio had gone rigid, letting you ride out your orgasm in peace as you suffocated his cock. His cum was already leaking from your walls before you’d even finished, a trail of him decorating your swollen pussy.

Your eyes fluttered open to see him staring back at you, his lips pulled into a lazy smirk. You mirrored his expression, releasing a breathless chuckle. Your body still hummed in excitement, but this time it was punctuated by the deep satisfaction that radiated from between your thighs.

“You good?” You teased, hands resting on his chest and feeling the rapid beats of his heart beginning to slow.

He laughed, the sound low and tinged with fatigue. “Yeah.”

He licked his lips and took in your disheveled state, gaze catching a glimpse of the lace bra you wore underneath.

“Let me drive you home.” He said suddenly, his arrogance alive and well.

It was on the tip of your tongue to deny him, but you chose not to.

“Sure.”

**********

The car ride was silent.

After your impromptu coupling in the bathroom, you’d made up an excuse about not feeling well to your friends and explained you’d already called an Uber. They were hesitant to let you leave alone, but somehow you’d persuaded them to stay and not follow you. You were sure the alcohol they’d consumed had something to do with it.

With hugs and promises of texts that everyone made it home safe at the end of the night, you departed from the bar with Rio in his Mercedes. He’d been driving for about ten minutes, the air not as tense as it’d once been. He seemed content to let the quiet linger, but you weren’t.

“What happened to the new guy?” You asked, glimpsing his face to gauge his reaction. It was dark in the vehicle, but you could still make out his silhouette amongst the various street lights.

He furrowed his brow and pouted his lips, confusion reading easily across his features.

“What new guy?”

“My new contact. The one I was supposed to have.”

“Didn’t work out. Mick has it handled.” He replied simply, gaze still trained on the road in front of him.

“Okay.” You said with a nod, the dryness in your tone letting him know you didn’t quite believe him.

He wordlessly turned onto your street and came to a stop alongside your driveway, putting the SUV in park. He angled his body to face you, trapping you in his stare.

“It was never about you.”

The question must’ve shown on your face because he continued.

“The switch. It wasn’t about you.”

“Wasn’t very convincing.” You deadpanned, scoffing as you played with the zipper of your clutch.

He didn’t react right away. Instead, he watched you. Watched you in that way that let you know his thoughts were as impure as the counterfeit money he produced.

“You look good in that dress.” He complimented, chin jutting out and gesturing to the fabric that adorned your body.

His praise made warmth bloom in your chest. The kind of warmth that was usually accompanied by butterflies in your stomach.

“Thanks.” You replied evenly, not letting him see just what his words did to you. Though you had a feeling he did, despite not bearing witness to it outright.

“Better without it.” He added with a slide of his wicked tongue across his bottom lip, his teeth following. The action was purposeful. Erotic. Blatant. It was all Rio.

You didn’t respond to his flirting. You only sighed, mirroring his position as you resigned yourself to have an honest conversation with the man.

“So,” You started, forcing your fingers to still. “What is it that you want?”

He eyed you for a long moment. Long enough that you started to feel self-conscious.

“You.”

You nodded, disappointed but not shocked by his reply. The word wasn’t new. Though it was lacking the hollow cockiness that usually accompanied it.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he spoke up before you could.

“In whatever way you’ll let me have you.” He admitted.

The statement caught you off guard. He wasn’t trying to be cute or charming. He wasn’t being placating or condescending. He was being serious, the hardened intensity in his dark orbs softening to a tender resignation that you were sure matched yours.

“What about you? What do you want?” He repeated back to you, eyes narrowing as he waited.

You took a moment to observe him. Your eyes followed the arch of his brows and the sharp jut of his cheekbones. You studied the pout of his lower lip and his Adam's apple as it bobbed with his throat muscles. He was so many things to you. None of which you could put into words. You didn’t think a word had even been invented yet. It didn’t matter. You were both making your own rules. And it seemed, for once, that the both of you were on the same page and playing by the same rules.

“I want you to have me.” You confessed, meeting his gaze.

And there it was. He was resigned to having you in limited capacity. You were resigned to finally letting him have you. Two conclusions coming together at the same moment. You weren’t quite sure what that meant for you both, but it was a start. 

“Goodnight.” You whispered into the darkened cab, a small smile pulling at your lips.

You didn’t wait for him to react. You turned and opened the door, exiting the vehicle. He didn’t try to stop you. You rounded the front of the car, hearing the driver’s side window slide down.

“So I’ll see you next week?” Rio asked out the open window, chin resting in his hand.

“At the drop?”

He nodded.

You shook your head and laughed, though there was no real humor behind it.

“You wanna tell me again it wasn’t about me?” You challenged, a wide grin decorating your face.

He could deny it. He would probably try. But you knew the truth. And that was enough.

For now.

“Night.” He called, an amused upturn of his lips showing in the light of the full moon.

He turned to the street, starting the car as you walked up your driveway. His eyes followed you the whole way, ensuring you made it in safely.

You heard him drive away once you shut and locked the front door, your lungs releasing a long breath. You pulled out your cell phone and went to your blocked caller list. You selected Rio’s number and unblocked the listing, adrenaline releasing into your bloodstream as you did.

Almost immediately your screen lit up with a text.

Same time and place tomorrow?

You bit your lip, feelings akin to teenage infatuation bubbling to the surface. You hastily typed a response.

See you there.

The message was read immediately. 

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