ohhh, look a headcanon/scenario post! :D this was a whole lot longer than i originally planned, but oh well!! i played around with each of their stories, so i hope you don’t mind <3 <b>you can find JAEHEE, JUMIN and 707′s under the cut! if you have any requests, feel free to shoot them my way. anyway, i hope you enjoy!
RFA + THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY’RE IN LOVE
Yoosung thinks he’s sick.
His heart starts palpitating, his palms
grow sweaty and he’s so out-of-focus that he’s losing his streak on the LOLOL
leadership boards. He downs a cup of coffee, glaring at his bedroom clock,
which stared back with a 22:12pm in bright blue lights. It’s way too early to
be feeling tired, he thinks.
He sighs, exiting the server and
letting the game’s background music blast through his computer’s speakers. He
places a hand to his neck, feeling for a warm temperature, only to end up
confused as he realizes he’s not even remotely feverish. Worriedly, he calls
her up, sure that she would know what’s up with him.
“Hey [Name],” he says, going back to
his desk to take another swig of coffee. He joins another server, hoping LOLOL
would help calm his nerves. Why was he always so nervous when he was talking
with her? He prattles on about his supposed “symptoms” as he patiently waits to
be connected to the server.
“Sounds like you’re in love,” she
suddenly blurts out. He almost sprays his coffee all over his computer at those
words. He can tell she’s joking. She was joking, right? Right? He tries
to come up with a reply, but all that comes out of him is a strangled sound. He
hears her laughing from the other end. “Ohhh, bulls-eye! Who’s the lucky
person? Is it me you’ve fallen for?”
Yoosung’s eyes widen at this, and his
heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest and start tap-dancing on
his desk. He’s stunned to a silence; his mind is racing, wondering whether or
not to confirm her statement. Well, that would certainly explain why he always
felt so worked up around her. Before he could even answer her question, he
hears her awkward laughter on the other end of the phone.
“Hey, I was kidding! Playing some LOLOL
might calm your nerves, but I suggest not staying up too late. It might
actually be a fever, after all.” Yoosung manages to quickly blurt out an
apology as well as a thank you, before wishing her a good night and ending the
call without waiting for her reply. He leans back on his chair, staring at the
cream-colored ceiling above him.
It’s when he places both of his hands on
his chest and feels the rhythmic thumping of his heart. It’s when he tries to
steady his breathing, and when he finally does, he remembers what she said and
wheezes. It’s when he realizes that he knows the answer to her earlier
question, but he was too shy, too scared to actually answer her. It’s when he
makes a promise to tell her, face-to-face and unabashedly, one day. Yoosung’s
eyes linger to his desk clock.
It’s at 22:17pm on a LOLOL-filled
Tuesday night that he realizes that he’s completely, head-over-heels in love with her.
Zen can’t sleep.
He’s lying in bed, positively tired
after a day’s work. He knew he did well earlier, yes, but his own
self-reassuring thoughts did very little for his nerves. Ever since the whole
hacking situation, he’s been on edge during his performances; he can’t help but
be upset at himself for not giving his all for his audiences.
Despite being an “egotistical prick”,
as Jumin calls it, he was often hit by waves of doubt during these late
sleepless nights. His self-reassuring thoughts began to shift into ones of
doubt, pushing him to twist and turn in his suddenly uncomfortable bed.
Was he a genuinely good actor? Did
people watch his musicals for his talents or for his looks? Would he ever be
more than just a handsome face up on the stage? He was jolted back to reality
by the sudden ringing of his cellphone. He begrudgingly reached out to view the
caller ID: [Name].
Without a second thought, he
immediately answers the call. Her cheerful voice was tinged with a hint of her
own weariness. He feels his heart begin to swell, savoring the way her voice
says his name. “Can’t sleep either?” he says, genuinely happy to find her
calling him out of all the other RFA members.
“Yeah,” he hears her say. “I was hoping
you were awake. I’m glad I was actually right.” His chest tightens at this, and
he can’t help but smile at the thought of her thinking about him at such an
hour. He finds a sort of solace in her, thankful for her constant presence
amidst all the happenings in his life.
The two converse, and he finds the
weight on his shoulders gradually become lighter. His heart is both calm and
erratic, and he finds himself laughing together with her, despite being miles
apart. When he hears her congratulate him for the show he put on, for being
such an amazing actor on-stage, for doing so well, even if he may not believe
so, he almost starts crying.
“You’re doing so well, Zen. I’m sure
all your fans can agree that you’re doing so much more. I mean that, truly. If
you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here. So is Jaehee and the rest of the
RFA,” she says from the other end of the line, and he allows himself to think
that she means it. No, he knows she means it; it’s in the way that she speaks
to him that he knows she’s saying nothing but the truth.
It’s when she says her good night that
he catches himself almost saying it. He purses his lips, blundering out a good
night of his own before slamming the END CALL button. It’s when his eyes shoot
wide open, and he feels a ditzy smile gracing his lips. It’s when his
self-doubting thoughts are replaced by thoughts of her. He brings his pale
hands to his hair, and he can’t help but marvel at how much she affects him.
It’s when he catches himself thinking
about her in wonder does he realize that he’s crazy about her.
The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time.
It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.
The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”
Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—
(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)
Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.
It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)
Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”
Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.
She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid.
It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips.
She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.
VIRGO: So, you’re finally figuring out where the pieces of your life are supposed to fit together and ‘relief’ is a bit of an understatement. There was a time in which your existence felt a lot like trying to finish a puzzle while blindfolded: all of the parts within reach yet, still so far away. But you kept going and you found yourself again and I hope that you’re proud. I hope that when you go to sleep at night you feel comfortable with your decisions and all of the things you’ve been strong enough to overcome. I can’t promise that you won’t find yourself faced with broken things in need of fixing again, but I can promise that you’ll be able to put it back together. You always do.
LIBRA: It seems like every time you leave the house nowadays you brace yourself for impact, which is another way of saying that you’ve had to abandon being soft in order to survive. You’ve had to use your voice to ask for things that your earlier self would’ve shoved under the carpet. And while that’s definitely something to be proud of, the strength you’ve found within yourself, don’t let that close you off to all of the joy that accompanies being kind and open. It’s possible to stand your ground with open palms; asking for what you deserve and embracing the gentler aspects of life aren’t mutually exclusive. They never will be unless you let them.
SCORPIO: I know that it’s hard to refrain from comparing yourself to every person you meet, but you have to remember that not everybody has had the same background as you. Not everybody understands the feeling that comes with being told you’re not good enough, or the feeling of realizing that the people you thought were friends had been bringing you so far down that your back was flat against the floor. You haven’t fallen behind or lost your way just because you’ve had to take a few detours in order to find yourself. You’re trying your best, and your best is more than good enough. Someday you’ll be grateful that you kept on fighting.
SAGITTARIUS: Recently you felt the spark that can only ever mean something is beginning; it’s unfortunate that sometimes this also indicates that another thing is ending. And while that’s typically sad, an event you’re bound to mourn, every closed door is an opportunity to turn yourself around and have an experience that you wouldn’t normally. Eras will end as you continue to grow into yourself, and that doesn’t mean that they’re THE end. Be self-aware and work some more on loving yourself as you embrace these fresh starts and their accompanying lifestyle changes; there’s nothing shameful about being a fan of yourself.
CAPRICORN: One of the hardest things you’ll ever have to learn is that sometimes people leave and there isn’t a reason or a motive behind it, they just go. And that doesn’t mean that you did anything to instigate this, or that you push where others pull; it just means that because of whatever external reason, something wasn’t quite right. There’s no reason to make lists of all the people that you feel you’ve driven away when there are others beside you that are supportive, wanting only to shower you in the affection that you dole out so generously. The way that your peers choose to exit your life is always going to be a choice that they make themselves. You are not a burden.
AQUARIUS: You don’t have to treat every beautiful thing that waltzes into your path as if it’s temporary, bound to disappear as soon as you look away. I know that it’s hard to take good fortune with anything other than a grain of salt after everything you’ve lost, but perpetually being in a state of worry when you have no reason to be so is ridiculous. Your potential for happiness is so much greater than you’re allowing yourself to have. There aren’t limits or rules when it comes to the progress you make and the people you invite into your life. If you spend all of your time walking on eggshells, you’ll never able to leave your mark. Be bold. Be genuine.
PISCES: You’ve been taking happy vibes to the next level lately and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I know occasionally you start thinking that maybe you don’t deserve to be feeling this light, or that there are more pressing aspects of your life that you should be devoting your attention to, but what you’re doing right now is more than okay. It’s encouraged, in fact. Try not to hold yourself to a higher standard than you would hold the people that you love to. The perfectionist that shows up within you very once in awhile to make unnecessary comments about your progress isn’t the boss of you, you’re the boss of it. Allow yourself to be happy without any strings attached.
ARIES: It always takes time to adjust to a situation that you’ve never been in before, especially when you’re doing it all by yourself. Don’t forget that you’ve seen and conquered cities much bigger than this one. I know that everything in you wants to make a snap judgement regarding whether or not you like the direction you’re walking in, but try to refrain from doing so too soon as it could change your perception of an otherwise lovely experience. Give this road a chance before re-routing and switching courses altogether. Listen to your gut, you know more than anybody else what will benefit you most in the long run.
TAURUS: Are your days really blurring together, or are you so afraid of feeling something new that you’re hiding behind the safety of monotony? Sure, you’re stuck in more than a couple of ways, nobody’s denying that you’ve faced more than your share of quicksand. But something you should consider is how your actions play into that. I think there’s a sort of comfort in being stationary, as you know exactly what to expect, but I also think that you deserve a better quality of life than you’re currently getting and some of the responsibility for changing that rests on your shoulders. Try something new this month and see what happens next.
GEMINI: The heat of summer has peaked and descended and you’re finally able to leave the house without getting burned. This means that it’s time to refamiliarize yourself with your surroundings, because in the midst of life and all its trials I think you’ve forgotten about what’s in front of you. Examining the ground that your feet touch day after day, with eyes that are wise and observant and actually looking, can lead to revelations about yourself. I know that you’ve felt the holes in your life as of late and you’ve been looking for something to fill them, and the materials to do this are closer than you think. You might already be holding them.
CANCER: It’s really easy to overthink your choices when you’ve become accustomed to exposing the soft parts of yourself only to be handled roughly and without the right amount of care. And yet despite your history of hurt you’re still choosing to try again, which says a lot more about you than other people’s actions ever could. Nobody is going to hate you for laying bare your heart and soul, and if they do then that means they don’t deserve to see it anyways. You are allowed to feel proud of your accomplishments and you’re allowed to be vocal about it. Don’t be hesitant with self praise and accepting it from others. Everyone’s rooting for you.
LEO: Your environment lately has been hectic, to say the least, and that’s starting to take a toll on you more than you can probably see. I know that it feels as though you don’t have time to take a break, and that in order to cross-off every task on your never-ending to-do list you need to constantly be on the run, but that’s just your anxiety talking. While time is a constant wave that we’re all riding, that doesn’t mean you can’t lay back and enjoy the view as you float. Caring for yourself will never be detrimental to your progress, as the health of your mind and body are crucial when it comes to success. Give yourself a break for not being a superhero.
Character Pairing: Demon!Bucky x DemonKing!Steve x Female Reader
Word Count: 2912
Warnings:NSFW 18+ Smut. M/M/F threesome, oral (male and female receiving) fingering, sexual penetration, female ejaculation (squirting), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) and swearing.
can you write one where bucky and steve are demons and they fuck angel reader and she squirts and bucky goes “ well damn stevie look at this”
A/N: Don’t judge me too harshly! This is my take on angels and demons!
“I thought you’ve been told not to come to our neck of the woods angel face.”
You squared your shoulders and walked straight past Bucky. You heard his heavy boots turn to follow you.
“Defiance,” he said as he sucked in through his teeth. “I like it. I thought angels were supposed to be sweet and innocent. A bit on the submissive side.”
Glancing at him over your shoulder, you smirked, “Goes to show how dumb you demons are.”
Bucky lunged forward and grabbed your forearm roughly. He backed you against the nearest wall and pushed his big body against yours, pinning you in place. “Tread carefully angel, I’ll make it to where not even your precious God can save you.”
You quirked a brow at him as you chuckled, “Your first mistake is thinking that I need to be saved,” you pushed against his chest, backing him up a step. “Besides, your King summoned me here.”
Killers need to kill. It’s surprising how many writers ignore this very specific and important piece of the ones they claim are killers, heartless or not. Sometimes, there’s a difference between the character we describe in the text and the actions the character takes. An author can tell me over and over that a character is a deadly and dangerous person who strikes ruthlessly without mercy, but if they don’t behave that way in the actual story then I’m not going to buy it.
Show versus tell: the difference between who the author says the character is and the actions the character takes in the story. Especially if the actions counteract the description. Now, you do have characters who lie, characters who misrepresent themselves, characters who say one thing and do another, but these are not the characters we’re talking about. This is about ensuring that you, the author, know the character you are writing. Unless you’re hiding their habits, let us glimpse the worst they’re capable of.
Monster. I could tell Jackson I was a monster, but he wouldn’t believe me. He saw a strawberry blonde, five feet eleven inches. A waitress, a Pilates nut, not a murderer. The nasty scar across my slim waist that I’d earned when I was ten? He thought I’d gotten it from a mugging at twenty one. Just as a natural layer of womanly fat hid away years of physical conditioning, I hid myself behind long hair, perky makeup, and a closet full of costumes bought from Macy’s and Forever 21. To him, I was Grace Johnson. The woman who cuddled beside him in bed, the woman who hogged the sheets, who screamed during horror movie jump scares, the woman who forgot to change the toilet paper, who baked cookies every Saturday morning, the woman who sometimes wore the same underwear three days in a row. The woman he loved.
No, I thought as I studied his eyes. Even with a useless arm hanging at my side, elbow crushed; my nose smashed, blood coursing down from the open gash in my forehead, a bullet wound in my shoulder, Sixteen’s gun in my hand, the dining room table shattered, and his grandmother’s China scattered across the floor. He’d never believe Grace Johnson was a lie. Not until I showed him, possibly not even then. Not for many more years to come. Probably, I caught my mental shrug, if he lives.
“Grace,” Jackson said. “Please…” The phone clattered the floor, his blue eyes wide, color draining from his lips. “This isn’t you.”
Gaze locking his, I levered Sixteen’s pistol at her knee.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Morrison will take you in, he’ll fix this.” Her voice cracked, almost a sob. For us, a destroyed limb was a death sentence. Once, we swore we’d die together. Now, she can mean it. “Thirteen, if you run then there’s no going back.”
My upper lip curled. “You don’t know me.” I had no idea which one I was talking to. “You never did.”
My finger squeezed the trigger.
Sixteen grunted, blood slipping down her lip. In the doorway, Jackson screamed.
Do it and mean it. Let it be part of their character development, regardless of if which way you intend to go. In the above example, there’s a dichotomy present between the character of Thirteen and her cover Grace Johnson. There’s some question, even for the character, about which of them they are. It sets up a beginning of growth for the character as she runs, but it also fails to answer what will be the central question in the story: who am I? Which way will I jump?
If Thirteen doesn’t kill Sixteen, if the scene answers the question at the beginning then why would you need to read the story?
Below the cut, we’ll talk about some ways to show their struggles.
Based off of the request: Hey! If you’re accepting requests, would you mind doing one where Peter thinks the reader is dating Ned or Flash or even MJ? I think it’d be hilarious and I haven’t read an imagine like it yet 😜
months. That’s how long almost half of the new hire last when they
become social workers. Some will tell you it’s the pay, others will tell
you it’s the stress, still others will complain about poor training or
case overload or the broken system. But that’s all bullshit. The reason
they quit is always the same; the kids.
AU. When superstar singer and winner of The Voice Louis Tomlinson tweets “Nothing worse than waking up with no milk for a cuppa !! Gutted” he doesn’t expect someone to bring him some. And he really doesn’t expect that someone to have bright green eyes, long curly hair, and (fucking) dimples.
Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that’s exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.
simple as the title, where your avenger boo kisses you
Bucky: Thighs. On your first few dates with him, you never pictured Bucky to be a thigh man. You more expected him to be an old fashioned kiss on the hand type, but that all went out the window the first night he slept over. He took what you thought were flaws and made them his favorite things about you. Bucky loves waking you up in the morning by trailing kisses starting at your collarbone and going all the way down to those thighs he loves. You have a small tattoo on your inner left thigh that he always traces over lightly with his fingers, and it drives you absolutely mad. When he’s had a long day of being an avenger, he loves coming home to already find you in bed. Bucky takes this time to climb into the king sized bed and rest his head on your lap, occasionally leaning over from his phone to place a kiss on your thighs and tell you little things about his day.
Steve: Forehead. It started when the two of you finally made your relationship public, and went to a baseball game together. People were around everywhere, most trying to pretend they weren’t staring as you walked to your seats hand in hand, but some were blatantly taking pictures and whispering to their friends. Steve’s grip moved to around your shoulder, and he pulled you closer to him while walking around inside the stadium. Being in the public eye wasn’t something you were used to, and Steve could tell. So instead of giving everyone a show, he sweetly placed his lips on your forehead in hopes of calming you down. After that came many more events where he did the same before you walked out into the public eye, and it stuck as a way for you to calm one another down. Plus it was a way for the two of you to avoid the whole gross PDA thing.
Natasha:Neck. It became a thing of good luck for the both of you whenever she would place a kiss on the left side of your neck before going off on a mission. You weren’t an active agent anymore, but there were times where you would be with Maria in the control room. Natasha had no shame in kissing you in front of whoever she wanted, whether it’s just the team, or on a red carpet for the whole world to see. Sometimes she would just kiss your neck out of the blue to get you flustered and red in the face. Even on game nights with the team she would lean over your lap just to get her lips on your neck before making any bets with the team, and 99% of the time her PDA payed off. Nobody in the public eye knew how much she really suffered from the trainings when she was a kid, and sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night suffering from those memories. But you were there for her, leaving kisses across her jaw and down her neck, bringing her back to reality in your arms.
Thor:Hand. Albeit cliche, he truly loves making you feel like his queen. He was raised to treat women with the utmost respect, because he understood that he wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for them. So when Thor met you, he felt as if he had cracked the code to what life is supposed to be like. Everyone knows about how bubbly he is, but he was even more so after that first look into your eyes at the Shield christmas party. When Thor wakes up in the morning, the first thing he does is bring you closer to his body and kiss your hand. It’s his way of showing how much he loves and respects you, and without being too gross with the affection. But that sure doesn’t mean that he’s afraid to be affectionate.
Tony:Chest. Tony is all about chest kisses, and he places them with such love and care. He loves leaning into your chest while you are laying on the couch or in bed after a long day of being Tony Stark. You hold his head there, softly running your fingers through his hair and stroking his cheek. He feels his safest with his lips on your chest, even safer than when he’s in the iron suit that is damn near indestructible. It momentarily dispels all negative thoughts from his mind, and leaves him with nothing but pure adoration towards you. He feels like a giant weight is lifted off his shoulders as well. It’s at that point when he turns his head and absentmindedly presses a short, chaste kiss to your skin or the fabric that covers the area.
Peter:Temple. Whether the two of you were tangled up in each other on the couch watching a movie, or silently strolling down the street hand in hand, he always pulled you into a warm hug, and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. Whenever he was struck with the opportunity, Peter would lightly peck your temple. It helped that you happened to enjoy being kissed there just a little bit more than straight up lip-locking. He wanted to make sure you knew how much he loved and was there for you, and felt that a soft kiss on your forehead or temple was the way to do it. Sometimes you even stretched up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his temple whenever you saw him stressing out over something, especially new mission plans. Him leaving for said missions was a new thing, so it was always a toss up of who was going to be more strung out over the job that day.
Loki:Under-jaw. The two of always spent your down time wrapped up in blankets in bed, doing absolutely nothing aside from basking in each other’s company and body heat in silence. Loki leaned in to you and you leaned into him, becoming utterly obsessed with each other. He looked at you like you were the most exquisite thing in existence and peppered a million light kisses underneath your jaw and along the side of your neck. You always returned the favor by tightly holding him, eventually squeezing him till he was practically out of breath. You would spend all of your nights together exactly like this, much to both of your delight.
Pietro:Shoulder blades. Pietro craved skin to skin contact with you at all times of the day, mostly in the form of a kiss, which couldn’t happen often, much to your disappointment as well as his. So, he stuck to loosely slinging his arm around your shoulders and following you around like a lost puppy while you performed domestic tasks around the compound. Whenever you stopped bumbling about, doing whatever it was that you were doing, Pietro quickly peppered kisses all along your shoulder blades. They spanned everywhere from the shoulders to the nape of your neck. As long as it didn’t interfere with your task at hand, you indulged him and stood still, eyes fluttering shut in content for a moment until he was inevitably pulled away from you to do important Avengers work. He always made it up to you, however, in the form of much more interesting activities.
Bruce:Nose. Your touch never failed to provide Bruce with much needed affection, and reassurance that you were still around and weren’t ever going to leave him. You always stuck around, glued to his side while he moved about his lab. He tried on multiple occasions to explain what he does in the simplest way possible to you. Most of the time, you just looked at him and smiled, which Bruce knew as your nice way of telling him to stop wasting his breath because you weren’t going to understand any time soon. He softly chuckled every time, quietly sighed with a light smile on his face, pulled your face close to his and pressed a soft kiss on your nose. This gentle of a kiss reminded him that he’s still just Bruce, and not the other guy.
Scott:Cheek. Scott woke up significantly earlier than you did every morning, but never failed to give you a sloppy good morning kiss on the cheek before he rolled begrudgingly out of bed. They always woke you up though, which you didn’t mind. You always pulled a sleepy smile anyway, and rolled over to his side of the bed and basked in the hot spot of sheets he left behind, instantly falling back asleep. You were awakened again about a half an hour later to another, less sloppy kiss on the cheek and a goofy smile from Scott before he left for whatever job he had acquired from his friends. He whispered a promise to you about taking you out to dinner that night, an offer you accepted, before hurrying out of the room and out of the apartment.
♡ Summary: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.
It’s the first thing Y/n wakes up to, Savannah’s outraged voice echoing along the walls of Y/n’s bedroom.
Y/n groans, squinting her eyes open at the sudden movement of her bed shaking wildly.
Savannah’s pulling the stranger out of Y/n’s bed, her merciless hands continuously pushing him out the bedroom door. He’s half awake, his slumberous daze making him scramble as he attempts to throw his clothes back on.
“Fuckin’ Jesus” the unknown man grumbles, his eyes still half closed from the immense amount of alcohol he consumed the previous night.
Savannah remains relentless, despite his attempt to get fully dressed. He even falls at one point, when he hops on one foot to get his leg through his jeans, but she doesn’t stop for a second.
“You, get out of here!” she demands, her hand giving him one last shove out the door before she slams it shut.
Y/n groans again, her sensitivity to anything other than complete darkness and silence making her throw the duvets over her head and bury her face in her pillow. She’s well aware that she has to embrace the very few seconds she has of total peace and quiet before Savannah begins to lecture her for the irresponsibility she just walked into.
She’s only able to reunite with darkness for a split second before Savannah pulls the covers completely off of her, bringing her back into the horrifying sunlight.
Y/n falls off the bed, letting out a groan as her still slightly intoxicated body makes contact with the wooden floor. Her hungover state is making it nearly impossible to figure out the chaos unraveling in the room; all she can really understand is the pounding in her head and the burning in her eyes every time she exposes them from their lids.
She rolls over onto her back, huffing as her fingers dig into her eyelids. She coughs, her abrupt movements making her stomach flip with every turn she makes. She’s given no time to recover before Savannah rips her arms away from her face, gripping onto her wrists as she pulls Y/n off of the floor.
“What the fuck is going on here, Y/n?!” Savannah yells, eyes glaring at Y/n’s very, very hungover stance.
Y/n nearly trips over her own two feet as she attempts to balance herself after Savannah harshly pulled her up from her collapsed figure. If she had the capability to answer back, she would have, but she’s still fucked up from last night and can barely stomach the sunlight seeping in from the curtains.
“Is this what you’ve been up to?!” Savannah spits, angry laughter tying into her words, “Is this the kind of shit you’ve been doing while cutting everyone off?! Sleeping with random guys?!”
The last thing Savannah expected to see was Y/n in bed with a half-naked man and empty bottles of alcohol scattered across her bedroom floor. It was extremely rare for Y/n to carelessly consume alcohol and have consistent one night stands. Savannah’s witnessed her go through these phases only a handful of times throughout their friendship, all of which stemmed from Y/n’s toxic intolerance of being alone.
She should have seen this coming, though. After finding out she’s been in a relationship with someone Y/n was in love with, the first thing she should have done was check up on her. But there was so much fear holding her back, so much guilt preventing her from confronting her about it.
She wouldn’t know exactly what to say, or how to say it, without making it sound like she was the shittiest friend in the world. She had a feeling Y/n had feelings for Harry, considering she had mentioned him a plethora of times once she met him.
And Savannah still took it upon herself to date Harry, for her own selfish reasons. She never thought that it was the potential reason Y/n was so distant. That thought was the last one in the back of her head, completely throwing her off guard when she found out.
She’s tried to reach out to her multiple times, only to be deliberately ignored and shut down. After a while, she figured all Y/n wanted was space, so she stopped trying for a couple days.
But nothing stopped Harry. He’d spend hours knocking on her front door, on his knees, begging for her to speak to him. He’d call her when he wasn’t near her, because he had driven himself crazy knowing he never told Y/n what he needed to tell her so urgently.
Y/n knew—she knew just how much effort he was putting into seeing her again. She heard him, every day, through her front door, but she never knew what to do. The constant fear that Harry didn’t feel the same way back was all the convincing she needed to never speak to him again.
There’s only so much her heart could break, and she didn’t know how many more times it could before she finally snapped.
Y/n grips her head as she squints her eyes shut, hissing at the throbbing in her head when Savannah’s voice booms throughout the room. The overwhelming migraine taking over Y/n’s head practically forces her to sit on the edge of her bed, the palm of her hands still digging into her eyes.
“Not cutting anyone off,” Y/n mumbles, grumbling when she opens her eyes properly to look at Savannah, “I’m just adjusting.”
It isn’t a lie. Her intention wasn’t to ignore them, not at all. But as time went on, the more her emotions started becoming fragile; one wrong sight would have made her break.
And as stupid as it sounds, having sex was the only time she felt wanted after Harry and Savannah started dating. Even if it was in a drunken state, even if it was just purely for physical pleasure, the hours spent with random men were the only moments she felt purpose.
It was also her biggest distraction. Having one night stands was her emotional outlet, her way of letting out all of her emotions without actually doing so. It sure as hell was better than being alone—anything was.
Savannah sighs, shaking her head softly as she kneels eye level to her. She’d never seen her like this before, so lost and broken. She would have lectured her further if she wanted to because she had every right to smack some sense into her. But after all this time, after all the pain she could only imagine Y/n going through, could she really do that to her? Could she really blame her for doing this to herself?
“Y/n,” she rubs her legs, “I have been the shittiest, most horrible friend to you. I was so selfish and so inconsiderate, and I don’t blame you for not speaking to me these past couple days. But, Y/n, this—” her hands gesture around the horrendous state of her bedroom, “this isn’t adjusting. Having drunk sex isn’t going to rid your feelings for Harry. You’re suppressing your emotions, you’re running away. That’s what you’re doing.”
Y/n’s lips begin to quiver as her eyes well with tears; the first time she’s truly cried since the night she saw Harry at Lexi’s. Savannah feels somewhat relieved when she sees the tears falling from Y/n’s eyes. It isn’t a familiar sight to see, but it shows her that she’s actually accepting what she’s been hiding all along.
“You have to talk to me. I don’t care if you yell at me, Y/n. I don’t care what you do to me, but you have to talk to me. You have to show me something. I can’t be hearing about your feelings from Harry, that’s not fair for anyone.”
“What was I supposed to say?” Y/n whispers, her words breaking beneath cries she so desperately wishes she could stop.
But there’s no going back now. The alcohol is still running in her system and she’s reacting instinctively. There is nothing holding her back, not now.
“How was I supposed to tell him that I was in love with him when I knew he didn’t feel the same way? And how was I supposed to tell you anything about him when I knew this would end up happening anyways?! And what was I supposed to say to the both of you when you both decided to take it upon yourselves to flirt in front of me?!”
By now, Y/n’s blood is starting to boil. The words coming out of her mouth are laced with venom, her sudden shift in mood making Savannah swallow thickly. But everything in her is operating a million miles an hour, her words coming out faster than her brain can register. She doesn’t even remember standing up from the bed while she paces around her bedroom, empty bottles rolling around the wooden floor.
“Because no matter what I would have done, it would have ended the same! The way it always does, Savannah! The way it always ends with you getting what I want, even if I want it more—“
“Even if I need it! You still get it!”
The harshness in her voice is replaced by violent cries, her words drowned in uncontrollable sobs.
The pain is all over. Everything she’s attempted to numb is now all hitting her at once. All the loneliness, all the anger, all the hurt she’s been burying is now reaching the surface. She can barely breathe, all of the emotions suffocating her, squeezing against her throat.
Savannah is quick to embrace her shaken body, shushing her as her hands rub up and down her back.
A part of her always knew she was the reason Y/n’s love life was barely existent. Although Y/n never admitted it, she drops hints at it every so often. She did notice how all of Y/n’s high school crushes ended up liking her instead, and did notice how whenever Y/n tried to date, she would barely mention them to her. It was as if she was hiding them from her, completely intimidated that Savannah would take away her only chance at a relationship.
And Savannah can’t shake the horrible feeling she has when Y/n admits all of it to her.
Y/n buries her face in her shoulder, her tears soaking through her t-shirt. She wishes she could hold a grudge against Savannah, but she doesn’t have the heart to blame her for anything that’s happened. Everything is because of Y/n, everything happening is because of her fear of emotions and every bit of her has no one else to blame.
“I need him.” Y/n sobs into her shoulder, her hands tugging at the ends of her shirt for some sort of release.
“I need him so much. And I hate it—I hate that I do so m—much.”
“Oh, Y/n.” Savannah kisses her temple, holding her higher against her.
She knows how much Y/n needs him, and knows now more than ever. She was her happiest when she first met him, she was almost an entirely different person. But now, after everything that’s happened, Savannah has never seen her more of a wreck than she is in this moment.
“Let’s sit you down, you need to breathe.”
Y/n whimpers as she’s placed back on the bed, Savannah reminding her to breathe every couple of seconds. She looks at Y/n with sadness in her eyes, comforting her whenever she needs it most.
“He needs you, too, you know.” Savannah sighs, shaking her head as she takes Y/n’s fidgeting hands into hers.
“I never noticed it until you distanced yourself from us. He didn’t open up to me the way he should have, never talked to me the way he had with you. When I asked him about it—asked him why he wasn’t communicating with me properly, he always mentioned you.”
Y/n flutters her eyes shut, pursing her lips with the slight possibility that Harry may actually feel the same way towards her. There was always a part of her that fully believed the only reason he’s tried so hard to reach her was because he felt guilty for hurting her so much.
But knowing that there’s a chance in Harry reciprocating feelings gives Y/n an overwhelming sensation she’s ever experienced before. It’s the first time in a while there’s a particular type of warmth in her chest, and she swears she begins to tear up from the bit of happiness she’s been missing.
“He would tell me that you were the only one he truly felt comfortable around. Even confessed you were the only one he’d ever be able to talk to, even if we were in a relationship. He was going absolutely mental.”
Savannah sweeps the pad of her thumb under Y/n’s eye, catching the few extra tears that are overflowing. She smiles weakly at her in reassurance, raking her knotted hair between her fingers.
“No matter how much he claimed to like me, he loved you. He’ll always love you. And even when he was completely oblivious, I know now that, deep down, he was always yours. He was never really mine, no matter how much we all thought differently.”
Y/n nods slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips when she hears Savannah’s words. It’s the first sense of hope she’s felt in a while, and it almost completely rids the pain. Almost.
“I’m sorry for ruining your relationship, though. I kind of feel like this is all my fault.”
Savannah laughs softly, finding it almost completely unbelievable that Y/n always finds a way to apologize, even when things aren’t her fault.
“Are you serious, Y/n? Nobody, including me, can love that man half as much as you do. I ruined your relationship. You barely had anything to ruin.”
She runs her hands through Y/n’s hair one last time before patting her shoulder, a smirk growing on her face as she stands up from her kneeling position.
“Now, up you go. I believe you have to talk to someone who’s been dying to see you.”
It’s when Y/n is about to walk out of her door, freshly showered with a new change of clothes, ready to face Harry when she realizes she never said it.
She never fully told Harry she loves him, not when he was conscious, at least. She had felt it for so long, it has taken over her for so long, yet she never told him how she felt. It almost makes her wonder if it’s the reason why he’s been trying so hard for her.
He needs to hear her say it.
“It’s not hard.” She mumbles to herself as she unlocks her front door.
“Not hard, I just have to fucking sa—”
“Y/n!” Harry breathes out, springing from his position on the ground up to his feet.
He twitches when he instinctively brings his hand up to reach for her, but he holds himself back. He isn’t quite sure how far he’ll allow her to go, but if it were up to him, every part of her would be against him. Every single part.
She sucks in a breath, not expecting to see him waiting on her doorstep, and certainly not expecting him to seem so relieved to see her.
“H—Harry,” she whispers hesitantly, “what are you—“
“I’m sorry!” He stutters, interrupting her before she has a chance to finish asking her question.
“I know how inappropriate it is of me to just sit on your doorstep so unexpectedly but I knew Savannah was coming and I thought that maybe this would be the only time I’d get to see you and I was going to come in but some guy came running out of here and I didn’t want to get in between your time with Savannah so I just figured I’d wait until you came back out but I wasn’t sure if you ever would so I just figured I'd—“
He stops rambling when he feels Y/n’s hand on his cheek, her eyes looking at him with so much tenderness he swears his heart melts.
“Catch your breath, Harry.” She mumbles, rubbing her thumb along his cheek, “Just take a breath.”
He inhales sharply as he closes his eyes, turning his head so that her hand is against his lips. He kisses her palm softly before she moves it to play with his unbrushed hair.
His eyes flutter shut at her touch, his body almost completely melting into her. He feels his weakest now more than ever, and he’s never been more relieved to be this close to her again.
“Who was he, Y/n?” he whispers.
“The guy, who ran out of here, who was he?“
As much of a coward as it makes him, the thought of her in bed with someone else physically and mentally pains him more so than he’s ever expected. His head swims with thoughts of her naked, trembling, crying as she devotes her love to some other man, and the more he thinks about it, the more sick his stomach feels.
“Have I been trying for nothing? Have I been wasting my time?”
How could you ever doubt my love for you? is the first thought that comes to her. How could you ever question how much I love you?
Instead of saying the words right at the tip of her tongue, her eyes crease inward, slightly shaking her head as she scrapes her fingertips delicately against his scalp.
“I don’t know, Harry.” she whispers honestly, “I don’t know who he is.”
He nods softly, but nothing in her answer reassures him. He knows there is no other explanation for a guy to run out of her house at nine in the morning without a shirt on.
“May I come in? Wanna talk.” He asks tentatively.
“Of course you can.”
Silence falls between them as they both claim spots on opposite sides of the room.
There’s a tension in the room they both can’t seem to shake, an unaddressed barrier between them making it nearly impossible to find an appropriate way to start a conversation.
Harry’s the first one to break the silence, however, after a few minutes past of each of them refusing to make any eye contact with each other.
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
The question caught Y/n’s attention quickly, her head that was once resting in the palm of her hand now up on its own, a small “hm?” parting past her lips.
She’s acting dumb even though she knows exactly what he’s talking about. She just isn’t prepared to answer him, not in the way he wants her to.
“That you’re in love with me. Were you ever going to tell me?”
She shrugs, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she tears her gaze away from his. She isn’t used to confrontation, especially when it involves her emotions. It’s one of her weaknesses, but there’s absolutely no way around this one. Even if there was, she wouldn’t have the audacity to take it. He deserves to know—everything this time.
“I told you before.”
Harry’s jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as he looks at her from across the room. No, he may have been oblivious about her feelings in the beginning, but he sure as hell would never have forgotten it if she told him how she felt.
“Bullshit!” He scoffs. “You didn’t tell me shit! We wouldn’t be here right now if you had told me!”
She sighs, her cheek laying right back down in the palm of her hand, almost as if shying away from him.
“Well, it’s just—you were sleeping.”
Harry stands from his place on the couch, face scrunching in aggravation as his hands rub up and down his face.
“You’re kidding me, right? You have to be fucking kidding me right now!”
His fingers harshly grip the roots of his hair before stomping is way towards her. If he doesn’t get any answers out of her, he swears he’ll lose his goddamn mind.
His hands grip the sides of her face, squeezing her jaw between his hands as he looks at her bewildered.
“I need answers, Y/n. I don’t think you understand how many fucking answers I need right now.”
He speaks through clenched teeth and a tightened jaw, frustration boiling in his blood as she gives him the outright most ambiguous and outrageous answers he’s ever heard in his life.
Y/n places her hands on top of his, her fingernails digging gently into his skin. Despite the harshness of his stare, this is the first time she’s seen him in weeks, and she still finds him to be the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen.
“It was the night after I drove you back from Lexi’s, when you and Savannah were kind of going through that rough patch.”
He falls to his knees in between her legs, an almost unnoticeable smile tugging at his lips from the memories of that night. Because although Savannah had left him by himself, he had a night with Y/n that changed him forever.
"You fell asleep on me, after you told me you were still going to fight for her. That was probably one of the worst things you could have said to me, but you didn’t know, and I was angry at myself for not telling you sooner. I didn’t know how else to tell you unless you were—you were sleeping.”
His hand reaches up to her lips, his thumb tracing along the outlines of her mouth once she’s done speaking. No matter how much she confuses him, and no matter how fucking angry she makes him, he wouldn’t want to be staring at anybody else right now.
“I loved you then, too” he whispers, “I didn’t know it. I didn’t know anything until you left me. I knew you meant everything to me, I knew you were the only one I trusted so deeply. But the second I lost you, I felt empty.”
He presses his forehead against her collar bones, her heart beating quickly against his neck. She sighs, her fingers intertwining with his against her lap as her hips slide more towards the edge, her knees supporting the sides of his chest.
“Didn’t matter that I had Savannah. She was lovely, don’t get me wrong, but she wasn’t you. I tried so hard to make myself believe I was just missing you as a friend, but there was nothing that convinced me.”
His tearful eyes looked into hers, both chuckling slightly at their current state. They’re both crying, both their hearts racing in their chests. If someone were to tell them now that there’s a feeling even remotely close to how beautiful they feel now, together, they wouldn’t have believed it for a second.
Y/n wipes away the loose tears on his cheeks while she sniffles, giggling softly at how stupid they probably look.
“I’ve always loved you, Harry,” she whispers, “there’ll never be a time that I stop. No matter how hard I try, my love for you is stronger.”
It’s when the words fall from her lips that Harry realizes all he needed was for her to hear her say it. Her voice is so sweet as she says it, too, and her eyes leave no trace out doubt when she looks into him.
He tries to hold back the irresistible urge to kiss her, but it’s completely impossible. His lips press feverishly against hers, both of them releasing moans at just how right it feels to be kissing one another. Their kiss isn’t the slightest bit romantic. It’s harsh, it’s desperate, it’s messy but it’s just what they need.
Harry crawls on top of her, his hands on every part of her they can touch. He groans when he feels her nails scratch down his back, leaving her giggling underneath him.
“Mine.” He growls, his thumb putting pressure right underneath her chin.
He admires her face, the glorious look of her swollen lips, wet eyes, and pink cheeks. It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. A soft whimper leaves her lips, craving nothing more than to feel his lips against hers again.
“These lips are mine. All of you—all of you is mine. No other fucking wanker gets you the way I do.”
She smirks, her eyes half-lidded.
“‘m not allowed to sleep with random guys but you’re allowed to fuck my best friend?”
He presses his lips against her again, his hands brushing loose strands of hair away from her face as he does so.
“Never fucked her,” He mumbles against her lips, “couldn’t get you off my mind.”
Y/n rolls over so that she’s on top of Harry, her legs on either side of his waist as her hands roam his chest through his t-shirt. He looks priceless like this, weak and breathless underneath her as her hands grip the sides of his face.
“The prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”
He blushes, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he sends her the biggest grin she’s ever seen on him. His eyes are full of love, too, and Y/n swears every breath she had the chance to take has been knocked right out of her.
“Nobody makes me feel the way you do, Y/n. Nobody.”
BTS Reacts: their gf walking around in only their shirt
Hyung line / Maknae Line [coming soon]
Requested by infiresmannnnnnn
A/N: im sorry if it’s not quite what you had in mind 😅😅 i just got a bit carried away since it’s my first request lol. i really wanted to show off my writing style more than anything. hope you dont mind the length (i honestly dont know how some of them got to be so long tbh *cough hoseok cough*)!!! Also I wrote so much that I hit post limit part way through Jimin’s one so I had to split it into Hyung and Maknae lines. Hope that’s okay!
(Gif’s not mine)
(WARNING: got some good ol’ PG13 makeout sessions up in here - not explicit sex obviously, but given the request you can gather its not going to be completely innocent, just wanna give you all a heads up so no one comes complaining to me lol)
Jin had been in your kitchen, cooking both of you dinner before he had to go back to his dorms. He had a relatively early schedule tomorrow with his members, yet he insisted on making you proper food.
“You know how much I like cooking, though, Jagiya.” He insisted. “Go have a shower. I’ll be done by the time you’re out.” He said, chuckling at you as you huffed out a “fine”.
Twenty minutes later, you were done. Upon realising you had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with you to the bathroom, you sighed, pulling on your recently discarded shirt, that barely covered your ass. Scuttling around your apartment, looking for the sweatpants you ‘swear were right there, on the couch’, Jin called you for dinner.
You walked into the kitchen-dining area with a confused frown on your face.
Prompt: Y/N walks in, and Harry notices she’s wearing yellow again, this time it’s a yellow sweater with a pair of dark skinny jeans and brown ankle boots, her hair is pulled back into a pony tail with a white scrunchie with little smiling suns and he swears that he has to squint to look at her. “Oh! I know you-you’re the guy from the train,” Y/N beams, “Harry, right?” she sets down the tray of muffins.
“I didn’t tell you my name,” Harry snaps.
Y/N pouts, “well yeah, but I’m also not stupid,” she says.
“Are you joining us today Harry?” the man asked, “I’m Seth, I run the group.”
“Why else would I fucking be here,” Harry grumbled.
Y/N grabs a muffin, ignoring Harry’s sour attitude, “here, they’re made with love,” she smiled, holding out the blueberry muffin.
“Fuck off,” Harry says. He watches as her smile fades and the glint in her eyes seems to disappear, for a split second Harry feels like a dick, but then he realizes he doesn’t care and Y/N should just shove the muffin up her ass.
Y/N was fifteen when she first realized that what she felt
Y/N grew up in a big family, and she was the middle child,
so no one really focused in on her. Her parents focused on getting her older
siblings into college and the youngest what they needed, forgetting about Y/N.
It seemed like she was invisible in her house hold, and she knew it. It had
taken her parents a little over two weeks to realize Y/N ran away one summer.
Y/N got away with a lot, since no one bothered to ask how she was feeling.
When Y/N turned seventeen she got her first job, and with
her money she bought everything in the color yellow. Y/N hated the color
yellow, but yellow meant happiness and she had convinced herself that if she
wore it enough, looked at it enough, she would be as happy as the sun.
Y/N hated the way she felt, and she wanted no one to ever
feel the way she felt. So she tried helping others, baking for them, laughing
with them, taking them out, spending time with them, anything she could to make
them feel happy. She believed if they were happy, if she could make others
happy, she would eventually become happy herself, but it didn’t work that way.
This is part one of two, featuring Genji, Hanzo, McCree, Soldier 76, Reaper, and Torbjorn. Hopefully part 2 will be done and posted tomorrow with the rest of the guys. Going underived a read more because it got a little long
- He probably went looking for you and that was one reason for his being a playboy. He was trying to meet as many people as possible to try and find you
- But he doesn’t meet you until after he found peace from Zenyatta teachings. At this point he’d already given up on ever finding you
- As a cyborg, he gained the ability to see a few colors he couldn’t before
- Part of him worries that he won’t be able to see the addition of new colors when he meets his soulmate
- But it’s not long after Winston recalls everyone from Overwatch and he’s meeting a couple new recruits. He’s shaking hands with them and when he shakes the 2nd to last one the world bursts into color
- Turns out that he didn’t need to worry about knowing whether or not he’d be able to tell when he met you
- The two of you just stand there staring and holding each other’s hand. He’s wondering if you’re put off by his appearance until you throw your arms around him and say “I’ve been looking for you for so long”
- Hanzo is the opposite of Genji. He doesn’t want to meet his soulmate because he knows he has to marry for the good of the clan, no matter who his soulmate (there have Shimada’s who take their soulmate as a lover, but Hanzo wants to give them everything or nothing)
- He meets you anyways, before either of you are prepared for it. He’s dragging Genji out from a party and bumps shoulders with someone. The world bursts into color and both of you stagger
- Genji thinks Hanzo suddenly feels sick, and since he is concerned from him gets him out of there. It isn’t until later when Hanzo has recovered a bit that they realize that it was Hanzo’s soulmate. But neither of them know who it is and Hanzo has no desire to find out or so he tells himself
- The world is color now and it’s makes things more beautiful and more horrific for Hanzo. He can see the color of the cherry blossoms but he can also see the color of Genji’s blood when he kills him
- It’s years later when he finds you again, after he has forgiven himself and joined Genji at Overwatch. They return to Hanamura and this time, when he brushes shoulders with you, the colors don’t appear but they do get brighter. He hadn’t even noticed that in the years since your first meeting that they had dulled
- This meeting goes much better and the two of you have done some not-so-good things in yours lives, but you have each other, finally
- In Deadlock, it was considered a weakness if you looked for your soulmate, or decided to associate with them if you did
- It wasn’t until he joined Overwatch and learned that that wasn’t normal for the rest of the world that the thought of finding you and actually having a life with you crossed his mind
- He started looking for you whenever he could, meeting as many people as possible
- But Overwatch gets disbanded and he goes on run and he still hasn’t found you
- He stops looking because he doesn’t want to drag you into the mess that is his life
- One day he’s running from some cops and he runs into you, literally
- The world bursts into color. That you have pretty hair is the first thing that pops into his mind
- But unfortunately for him, you’re a cop so you arrest him, soulmate or no
- But he breaks out of jail, and of course he doesn’t do the sensible thing and run but shows up at your house and makes you coffee
- You talk to him and at first it’s just a way to stall until you can arrest him again but he’s charming and kind and you just kind of let him go
- He texts you as he travels around the country and calls you when he can. He even visits a couple times. Over time the two of you develop a friendship and then a relationship and when Overwatch reforms you join and you and Jesse get the chance to actually try being a couple
- Spoiler alert: You guys are perfect for each other
- So Jack was probably pretty idealistic when he was younger, so he was very enthusiastic about meeting his soulmate and he looked for you wherever he went
- Years passed and he became Strike Commander Morrison and he gave up on finding you. He accepted that he probably was never going to meet you and he accepted that even though it pained him
- He meets you after he becomes Soldier 76 and he’s fighting Los Muertos. You’re a civilian and he tackles you to block you the gang’s weapon fire
- The moment he tackles you, both you’re visions of burst into color
- He’s been trained to well enough that he doesn’t stop fighting but doesn’t mean he’s not shocked. Immediately after the fight he vanishes again
- You’re shocked that your soulmate is an infamous vigilante
- He reappears that night in your apartment. He doesn’t know what to say but he knows he can’t leave
- You’re still mildly freaking out at his identity. You freak out even more when he tells you he’s Jack Morrison
- He tells you about the fall of Overwatch (as much as he knows anyways). It all comes out in flood, he’s been alone so long that he’s forgotten how good it feels to have someone to trust. And he does trust you, even though he just met you
- You listen to all he has to say. You remember when Overwatch was a force for good and saved the world. You decide you believe him, he’s your soulmate what else are you going to do?
- He stills goes off to try and find out the whole truth of what happened, but he keeps in contact and comes to see you. It doesn’t take long until he’s referring to you’re house as ‘home’ even though after Overwatch fell he said he’d never have a home again
- Gabriel is more idealistic when he was younger so he definitely search wherever he could for his soulmate. But he wasn’t expecting them to find you in the middle of a war zone
- You’re one of the many nurses helping the civilians injured by the Omnic War
- But when both of your visions suddenly turn colorful, you’re more surprised than he is
- You weren’t expecting the great Gabriel Reyes to be your soulmate
- Both of you are very busy with the war but it doesn’t mean that you don’t make as much effort as possible to get to know each
- This relationship continues after he becomes the head of Blackwatch
- It continues right up until the explosion at the Swiss Headquarters when he dies and you’re vision goes back to black and white. Over the next few weeks your ability to see color seems to fade in and out, finally seeming to settle on being able to see a few washed out colors. You don’t know what it means but you’re determined to find out. After all, if you still seeing colors then he can’t really be dead, right?
- You go his funeral, both the public one and the private one for his closest friends. Angela doesn’t meet your eyes at either one
- You spend the next few years secretly looking into what really happened when the base exploded
- Talon notices, and they don’t like it so they send a few agents to ‘deal’ with you. Unfortunately for them, they send Reaper, not realizing that you’re his soulmate (you kept that fact hidden). The moment he realizes it’s you he kills the other agents before you even realize that they’re there. He doesn’t plan on revealing himself to you, but he didn’t know that the closer he got the brighter your vision became (after Mercy revived him he was still able to see in full color). He’s hiding in the shadows behind you when you turn around and say “Gabriel? Is that you?”
- So he reveals himself to you and steps out of the shadows. You stand there, staring at each other until you reach up and gently remove his mask. He looks different, there’s scars and bits of his flesh drift away as smoke, but it’s him and you missed him so much
- You join him in his quest to find out the truth about who betrayed Overwatch. You have to relearn each other all over again, but neither of you really mind
- There’s a reason that Torbjorn seems to be married to his turret
- He met you when you were kids, about 5 or 6. You went to school together and one day playing tag at recess he was ‘it’ and tagged you
- The world burst into color and both of you started crying because it hurt your brains to process all the new colors and neither of you knew what was going on
- It doesn’t take long for the teachers to figure out what happened and call both your parents
- It’s rare to find your soulmate so young, but you’re parents are thrilled that you won’t have to ever wonder who your soulmate is. Plus, both pairs of parents know each other and know that they’re good people
- It takes a few years for you both to realize what being soulmates means, but the two of you have already become friends.
- That friendship only grows as the years go on
- You both join the Ironclad Guild and help design the Titan class omnic (the giant one that Torb is fighting in his comic)
- The two of you are incredibly skilled and talented engineers, some of the best in the world
- One day you head to Russia to act as a consultant for the Volskaya Corp.
- A few days after you’ve left, Torbjorn’s vision fades to black and white, the color slowing draining away. He doesn’t know that you’re bleeding out in the snow in Russia, one of the first victims of the Omnic War.
- A few months later Torbjorn will join the original Overwatch Strike Team to fight back against the omnics
Pairing: Analogical (Anxiety/Logic), side Royality (Prince/Morality)
Genre: Soulmate AU, High School AU, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
Word Count: many 8.6k (the k stands for kill me)
Warnings: panic attack, like a paragraph dedicated to this One Shove, heaps of swearing (courtesy of Anx) and uh… I think that’s it?
Soulmates share an emotional bond where they can feel what the other is feeling. That has always been just an unimportant fact that Virge has lived by. It was the same as someone saying ‘water is wet’ or ‘the sky is blue’. When Virgil’s old neighbour moves away and Logan’s family moves in, things start changing.
Here’s my take with all the dirt. An ENTP looks great from the outside because we make you laugh, we give you true insightful criticism, we know all about your interests, and really “understand” you -we know logically why you feel like you do, even if you don’t. We find creative “why didn’t I think of that” solutions to not only your life problems but your computer problems too. We can charm your grandparents, your parents, and your friends. We can party with the extraverts, and sit in silence with the introverts. We can talk Trek with nerds, and Baudelaire with artsy-fartsies. You probably didn’t notice us in high school because we were in our embryonic pseudo INTP/INTJ morph. But you got surprised when you saw us back from college break and though we looked different (aka more desirable). We seem now just oh so dreamy and exciting.
But all that takes a -lot- of energy. It’s a performance we put on tailor made, on the spot, just for you. Eventually we get tired and the mask slips off. That’s when you think we’re shallow or self-centered, but the truth is, you misunderstood our performance for personal interest. (And maybe we did too — it’s easy to lose yourself as a method actor.) But we’re just as cold and analytical ruthless as the other NTs: We don’t nitpick you apart like an INTJ, or categorize your usefulness like an ENTJ, or test your mental capacity like an INTP. We understand you by (subconsciously) pushing all your secret buttons…for good or bad. Maybe you fell in love with us, but now your angry and conflicted because you don’t understand why we’re suddenly being cold and distant. We’ve retreated — because while we’re good at faking emotion, and logically understanding why people feel a certain way, we’re really terrible at actually handling emotion. We get overpowered by it and annoyed by the illogicalness of it. ( Besides, we’ve already found a new shiny.) Now you hate us…but here is some consolation. We have a built-in nemesis and he’s a real bastard.
We turn that critical wide-ranging eye on ourselves. You can’t see it from the outside, but were utter perfectionists in our heads and we relentlessly measure ourselves against the realistically unachievable. Somehow we can’t find the same easy solutions to our problems as to everyone else’s, and we become mired in too many possibilities, haunted by how inadequate our own creative efforts seem to us. We at once believe our own hype, and ruthlessly condemn ourselves. We’ll may you our creations (probably something ½ finished). We secretly want your praise, like an 8 yo child. We don’t accept your garlands though (unless you’re an expert we respect) — because we’ve already judged ourself against Perfection and came out wanting. If you tell us you think it’s good, we won’t believe you. For what you mistook as bravado and arrogance, is really very wry, very sarcastic self-mortification.
We can stagnate in our mess of ideas, with no external system of organization to help us move forward. We have brief mad rushes of energy —back, forward, right, left, a random walk of ideas with a net movement of zero. If you’re really smart, being an ENTP is a double curse…because your ideas are loftier, your movements more wide-ranging, your internal critic all the more perniciously accurate. You stand on the shoulders of titans, glimpsing something wonderful across the jungle of possibilities, and sketch out a map.
But then it happens: SJ reality. They turn off your water because you forgot to pay the bill. A check bounces because you didn’t know how much money you had in the account. You burn dinner because you’re suddenly obsessed with typing out a manifesto on a blog. You tell a friend you’ll meet him at 7:00 and show up at 9:00. You forget to call your mother on her birthday. You put off simple annoyances (like depositing a check) for weeks. Your mighty creative intuition gets mostly employed to talk your way out of the stupid jams your procrastination landed you in. People with lesser talents, pass you by and you make excuses: (The internal critic says it’s because your stupid and lazy). You don’t get the promotion because while you have a lot of good ideas, you don’t follow through. You’re unreliable. You have no problems expressing your boredom with your job or critiquing your boss publicly in front of his superiors, not realizing the implications. SJ boss now -really- doesn’t like you. You get A’s in some college classes and F’s in others — but all your NT professors still think you’re intelligent, even the one’s giving your F’s, because they’ve fallen for your charms and excuses.
But people like you — they think your unique, clever and entertaining, because you are. They give you chances. So you pick yourself up, dust yourself off from your failures, and try again. Maybe you get your self another brilliant ENTP friend and start Apple Computer. Or write Candide. Or invent Quantum Electrodynamics. Or host the Daily Show. Maybe tomorrow. Or Next week. But what you’ll probably do, instead of working on finishing a paper your supposed to be readying for peer review, you’ll spend an hour typing out a cathartic blog post that’s maybe more about your own insecurities than being an ENTP.
So is ENTP the best of all the types? Hell yes it is. =)”
A/N: Request from @btrombley13: You should write a Gaston x reader where, much like Belle, he just keeps trying to win her over but the reader just keeps denying. Maybe where the reader continously teases him, whether it’s by joking with him or wearing a dress which just compliments the reader in best ways. I just thought that would be funny and actually kind of cute. Cause lets face it, Luke Evans Gaston is amazing ^_^ have a good day :)
A/N: Sure! Of course! I hope this was what you were looking for!!
For years, Gaston offered you his heart and hand, but you would respectfully decline his wish. You liked Gaston and all, but you feared of settling. You didn’t want to settle to early on in life. You were young and ambitious. Plus, Gaston and you have been companions longer then before Gaston showed you signs of love. You also didn’t want to see that kindled relationship be destroyed if things fell through. Gaston, on the other hand, knew he had you reeled in, it only just a matter of time. But since you and Gaston were still only friends, you were certainly not shy from the idea of messing with one another.
Can you do a Carlos x reader, maybe they dated when he lived on the isle and he needs her help to get Ben back? Maybe you can do whatever you want.
Authors Note: Hey, guys! I just wanted to say that I know this imagine is a little rushed, and probably a little serious for a character like Carlos, but I still hope you enjoy!
(DON’T OWN THE GIF)
“Well, well, well. Look who it is! Back from Auradon already?” You seethed, the anger evident in your voice as you locked eyes with your used to be boyfriend, Carlos.
Carlos gave you a small nod, his lips shaking from the want to speak and his eyes so full of sadness from your less than excited figure that he couldn’t bring himself to meet your own. You gave him a slight laugh, the small heels of your combat boots clanging against the floor as you made your way closer to him.
“What are you doing here, Carlos?” You questioned, his sudden reappearance catching you off guard and reminding you of how angry you were at him for leaving in the first place.
“I came to see you.” He stuttered, his eyes searching yours in surprise, almost as if he couldn’t believe you weren’t happy to see him. “And I need your help.”
You scoffed, your heart beating a million miles per hour as you tried to continue looking as angry and unfazed as possible. “With what?”
“Ben came to the Isle to bring Mal back to Auradon.” Carlos began to explain, his expression becoming serious as he stepped closer to you. “Him, being the unexperienced do-gooder that he is, walked right into one of Uma’s traps.” He continued. “They took him, Y/N, and you’re the only one that can help us get him back.”
You raised your eyebrows in awe. You never would have expected King Ben to have the courage, or audacity, to show his face after leaving you and the rest of the VK’s on the Isle to rot like the trash that they all thought you were.
And you couldn’t tell if you were impressed or angry.
“And why would I help him?” You asked, the anger in your voice starting to falter as it replaced itself with pure sadness. “He left me here, Carlos, and so did you.”
Carlos let out a sigh, his brown eyes clouding with undeniable sadness before he reached out and gently placed his fingers on your arm.
“Y/N, I…” He began, his smooth and familiar voice flowing through the air and forcing you to listen. “I know I left you here.” He continued sadly. “I know I left you here, and I’m sorry. But you have to believe me on the fact that we didn’t know we’d be gone for this long. We thought we’d be gone for 2 or 3 days, not 6 months. We thought we were coming back.”
“Then why didn’t you?” You snapped, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as your angry act completely disappeared. “I’m your girlfriend, or at least I was, and I loved you and you just left me here like I was nothing!” You cried. “And when you do come back, it’s not even really for me! It’s for Ben! And the only reason you’re even talking to me right now is so I can help you get him back! Damn, Carlos! Do you know how that makes me feel? I mean, did you ever even care about me at all?”
Carlos looked as though he’d been slapped, his eyes scrunching in surprise and lips quivering in shock.
“Of course I cared about you, Y/N! I still do!” He exclaimed, the gentle fingers that were lightly touching your arm now wrapped around your wrist and pulling you closer to him. “How could you even ask that?”
“Well, what do you expect me to think?” You asked, the warmth from Carlos’ body pressed against your own all too familiar and making you lose your breath. “Am I just supposed to accept the fact that the person I’m in love with, and the person I thought was in love with me, just up and left and never even attempted to at least get in contact with me?”
Carlos said nothing at that point, the slight hold he had on your arm slowly lessening before he quickly pulled you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug that made tears fall unlike they ever had before.
“I wanted to. Every day.” Carlos whispered, his right hand leaving your waist and tangling into your hair. “But it’s a lot harder to get here than it seems.” He continued, your heart beating so fast that you were sure he could feel it. “Besides, Ben promised he would bring you to Auradon. He promised he would bring all the VK’s to Auradon. It’s just taking some time because, as you know, people aren’t very keen on the idea.”
You let out a shaky breath, a strange mixture of wonder and relief quickly flooding your mind and making you hold Carlos tighter than you ever had before. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”
“Yes, really.” Carlos persisted, his hand moving from your hair and to your chin. “Do you really think I wouldn’t try to come see you unless I knew Ben was doing everything in his power to bring you to Auradon? Come on, Y/N. You know me. I would never just leave you like that.” He exclaimed. “Besides, I didn’t want to mess up your, or anyone elses chance, to come over here by attempting to sneak you in. Stuff like that is looked down upon over there, you know.”
You laughed at Carlos’ small attempt to lighten the mood, the air in the room becoming slightly less thick as the tension between the two of you began to fade. You gave Carlos a small smile, his kind words about not wanting to ruin anyones chances of leaving the Isle flooding your mind and reminding you as to why you loved him so much in the first place.
“I’m sorry for doubting you.” You whispered, gently laying your head on his shoulder as you hugged him again. “It’s just been so hard without you here. Hours feel like months and days feel like years. I can’t do it anymore, Carlos. I just can’t.”
Carlos hugged you back, his body relaxing into your own as he breathed in your sweet aroma.
“That’s why we need to get Ben back.” He insisted, his hands tangling themselves in your hair once again, almost as if he was afraid you’d back away from him. “We need to get him back so we can get you out of here. Get all of you out of here.”
You smiled, the words ‘get all of you out of here’ making you so excited that you literally wanted to cry.
Backing away from Carlos, you gave him a small nod, your hands immedietly reaching down and retrieving the large sword stashed within your belt. Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself, immedietly wiping your tears and going into the mode that everyone on the Isle had to have. Survival.