#I do love their ending normally but hear me out I love healing more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satoruxx · 9 months ago

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pairing: poly!sashisu x f!reader | 2k words summary: mentions of injuries, sashisu fluff, tiny bit of angst, pet names, shoko is literally wife, suguru is super touchy lol, satoru's a menace but he loves you, protective sashisu, extra protective satoru, shoko and satoru bicker for like half of this lol rheya’s note: offers you more of these three and runs away (sorry guys they literally won't leave my mind i swear they'd treat you so good)

one look at shoko’s frowning face and you’re already nervous, squirming in place as she leans in close to inspect your body. you have to take a deep breath—because while normally her close proximity makes you flush and stumble over words, this time you are anxiously silent.

because you can tell that she is anything but pleased. her eyes are narrow as they take in the wound on your stomach, lips pursed like she’s holding back a scolding.

which you know, you definitely deserve.

she scoots her stool closer to the examination table you’re sitting on, fingers coming up to undo the makeshift bandage you had tied around your torso in the midst of the mission.

you try to hold back your wince as she pulls away the fabric that sticks to your blood, but she catches it. she’s always been overly observant.

you shake your head at her when her gaze flickers up to assess your pain levels. “i’m fine.” you don’t mean for your voice to come out so hurried.

“looks like it.” her voice lacks the usual warmth, normally so sweet as she teases and dotes on you like you’re the only thing in her world. but this, this disappointment that she’s not good at hiding, has something in your chest tugging.

you think you might go crazy if she doesn’t smile at you in the next few minutes.

“oh c’mon,” you shrug, laughing carelessly because it’s not that bad. “it’s fine. besides i have a great doctor. i knew i’d be okay.”

shoko takes a deep breath, honey brown eyes boring into yours when she looks up again. “listen to me—” there is something odd about the way she’s speaking that has you sitting up a little straighter. “this is the one thing i hate doing for you.”

your mouth clamps shut, any trace of a smile gone.

“hell babe, i’d do anything for you,” she sighs, leaning closer to your face—so close you can see her dark lashes brush her cheeks when she blinks. “but i hate hearing that i have to come down here and heal you.”

the intensity of her gaze has you chewing on your lip again, an action that her eyes follow. but she doesn’t say anything else, leaning back to continue her work—though there is a freer air about her, like a pressure has been released.

you don’t say anything either, too focused on her and her pretty eyes and her warm hands and the way she loves you.

you hear the sliding door to the infirmary open, and immediately feel a familiar overwhelming presence worming its way into the room.

“you serious?” satoru’s voice goes high at the end of the question—barely concealed panic. “what the fuck happened?”

you hold back a grimace knowing that his focus is only trained on your wound. “it’s not as bad as it looks,” you offer weakly, but satoru is already in front of you, brows drawn tight in anger and something else.

“like hell,” he hisses, eyes darting between your face and body. “you almost died!”

“stop yelling at her.” suguru’s voice comes out exasperated as he enters, shooting satoru a weak glare—but you know him well enough to catch that he isn’t happy about this either. he takes a few steps until he’s directly in front of you, crouching next to shoko’s stool so that he’s in your line of sight. lavender eyes take you in, and you can see the the relief that seeps into them.

his palm comes up to gently hold your cheek. “okay baby?”

you’re nodding before he even finishes, doing your best to reassure because if there’s anything you hate it’s making him worry.

making them all worry.

suguru’s hand remains attached to your skin even as he turns to look at shoko. “how bad is it?”

shoko doesn’t look away, focusing on her hands as she sighs. ”it was deep. definitely could’ve been bad but…she’ll be fine.”

her eyes flicker up to yours, and you bite your lip nervously. you hear suguru inhale, fingers twitching against your cheek.

it is satoru who breaks the silence.

“what were you thinking?” he asks, low as he grits his teeth. there is a wild look in his eyes, cerulean glazed over with something you can’t quite place. the tone of his voice has shoko and suguru sharing a look, one that you don’t have the time to decipher because you’re too focused on the way satoru is clenching his fists.

your shoulders drop. “you’re mad.” it’s a statement, not a question, and you see the sharp look suguru sends satoru’s way.

“i’m not—” satoru inhales abruptly, interrupting his own words. “just—”

he stops speaking.

“he wants you to be more careful,” shoko fills the silence, still staring at your abdomen. “you can’t be careless like this.”

there’s a dip in her brows, one that matches the downward tilt of her lips. she doesn’t look at you, and you think you can feel the slight tremor of her hands as they press against your skin.

her expression has you unable to look away, feeling oh so cared for and protected under the warmth of her healing.

so you nod mutely, and almost cry in relief when you see the twitch of her lips as she finishes healing you. suguru chuckles under his breath, his empty hand lacing through your fingers and squeezing—a message that only you understand. “good,” he sighs, tilting his head fondly. “take care of yourself—at least for our sake, yeah sweetheart?”

shoko throws satoru a look even as he crosses his arms and glares at the wall, refusing to look at you. “that goes for you too, dummy!”

satoru’s head whips around to throw her an appalled glare. “i’m plenty careful!”

shoko wordlessly reaches out and tugs up his shirt, where you can see the faint remnants of a fresh battle scar. “didn’t i heal this for you not two days ago?” she rolls her eyes. “and the fact that you can heal it yourself is even worse.”

satoru pulls his shirt down and shoots her a glare that’s half a pout. “well maybe i wouldn’t be so bad at it if you were a better teacher!”

“like i’d spend my free time teaching you.”

“did you just wake up mean one day or were you born this way?”

“idiot. i told you—it’s fwoo, then hyoi!”

“what the hell does that mean, sho?!”

you watch the two bicker with a smile, and suguru looks down at you with a mirrored expression. “scared us a little there, baby.” he lowers his voice, palm sliding through your hair as he pushes a few strands back.

“didn’t mean to,” you grimace, leaning into his touch. “but it seriously wasn’t that bad.”

“i know,” he answers, eyes heavy with affection and fatigue and all the depth in the world. “we weren’t expecting it is all. we came back and nanami let us know what happened. satoru threw a fit y’know?”

you wince internally, knowing that it probably wasn’t very pleasant. “he did?”

“he’s an idiot but you should know he’s crazy about you, sweetheart.” suguru smothers an amused huff. “he stopped hearing anything after they said you were hurt.”

you don’t know what to say to that, but you don’t have to, because suguru’s smile widens like he understands. he always does.

“didn’t mean to make him worry,” you mumble, watching as shoko lazily punches at satoru’s gut, to which he dramatically groans even though he’s the one who had his infinity down for her.

“i know,” suguru grins, fingers brushing over your shoulder almost carefully. “he does too.”

you suppress a smile, feeling oddly grateful as you watch satoru whine and complain when shoko shoots sarcastic remarks at him.

something about all of this that makes you feel so blissfully comfortable.

“okay alright guys,” suguru finally sighs, shaking his head. there’s a tinge of amusement in his voice even as he shoots them an exasperated glare. “give it a rest.”

“she started it!” satoru says—indignant.

shoko huffs, rolling her eyes. “whatever.”

she turns back to you, gently cupping your cheek and rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip. “feeling okay, babe?”

“yeah,” you nod, feeling your skin warm under her touch. “feels a lot better.”

she stands up with a soft smile. “good. then you’re free to go.”

suguru exhales, his smile becoming a little more eased as he pushes your hair away from your neck. “that’s good. let’s go home then, yeah?”

you nod, starting to pull your shirt and uniform jacket back on. suguru steps away to give you room, standing next to shoko who nudges his shoulder affectionately.

“you know, i bet you do things recklessly just so that shoko can heal you,” suguru says to you—a teasing glint in his eyes.

you look up and grin, dramatically covering your mouth. “don’t expose me like that! i’ve been getting her attention like this for years!”

suguru laughs even as shoko shakes her head in amusement. “silly girl. you’re crazy.”

“you can’t blame me,” you shrug playfully, buttoning up your shirt. “it’s your fault for being such a good doctor.”

suguru squeezes shoko’s fingers in agreement, no doubt still lingering with the warmth of her technique. she laughs to herself, rolling her eyes fondly as she watches you finish getting dressed. “you should take a nice bath, babe.” she grins at you. “i can help you if the injury’s still a little sore.”

you nod and suguru smiles, slinging an arm around shoko’s shoulders. “good. then we’ll go back to the dorm and get it ready, yeah?”

you smile at them gratefully, no words needed, and they return the expression before heading out.

the echoing of the door sliding shut pierces the silence between you and the strongest. satoru is staring at the tiled floor like he’s about to kill it, shoulders drawn tight with tension.

you sigh, looking up at him almost meekly—so unlike your usual interactions. “you still angry at me, toru?”

you see the effort with which he exhales, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes just barely concealed by dark frames. he turns to take two full steps towards you, until he towers over your sitting form—and while most people would find it intimidating, you have always found satoru’s overwhelming presence to be a comfort.

his fingers reach up to push a strand of your hair away, deliberately tucking it behind your ear before his hand rests against your jaw. “‘course not,” he answers, voice low. his thumb traces over your jawline. “just panicked.”

“sorry.” you turn to press your lips against his palm, and you see his features soften.

he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your temple, an uncharacteristic softness that only you are privy to see. “‘s okay.”

“but you know i can take care of myself, right?” you ask him, almost imploringly because you have never wanted to look weak in front of someone who is so strong. satoru grins, eyes glinting with what almost seems like pride as he ruffles your hair.

“duh,” he laughs, taking your hands to pull you off the examination table. once you’re standing he slings an arm around your shoulders and presses his nose to your temple. “i’d be stupid not to. you’re crazy strong, y’know?”

you try to hide your pleased smile, even though you know that being acknowledged by him—by all three of them—will forever be what keeps you going.

“well at least you know,” you grin, and satoru rolls his eyes, fingers coming up to poke at your side.

“don’t get cocky.”

“look who’s talking!” you retort and he shakes his head, amused. satoru’s grip tightens imperceptibly, and you think yours does too, something telling you that you’ll never be able to let him go.

“c’mon sweets, let’s go get you that bath now, yeah? sho and suguru are probably waiting.”

you hum, a gentle smile tugging at your lips when you hear his words. you wrap your arm around his waist, leaning into him as he walks you back to the dorm—walks you home.

because that’s what the three of them are to you—home.

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navybrat817 · 10 months ago

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Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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simpee9000 · 3 months ago

Note

Super random but I’m a writer and I’ve been stuck on an idea I can’t get going😅 if you’re willing to/interested I’d love to see what you can do with the idea. I’m a domestic kinda girly so don’t judge 🫣🤣

Idea:

Bakugo coming home to retired ex-hero wife who’s excited to tell him about the new recipe she learned or something like that and it makes him feel frisky because she’s still so devoted in everything she does it just all goes to him now

I can try! I'm really rusty at smut so bear with me here! (Don't ask me how I'm writing a smut story despite only writing it maybe three times before)

Despite the smut not being the best I hope I did well enough. I've never done a request before so this is a first! Thank you <3

Word Count 2k~ Smut, and slightest gore at the beginning

Katsuki Bakugo x retired pro hero reader

Your leg was blasted off from under you. Making you collapse as you buckled under your weight. A silent scream of pain coming from you. Landing onto your stomach before falling onto your side, confused from the amount of pain. Your hero suit was torn in every spot possible, ends being burnt off mid-thigh.

From the knee down your left leg was gone, the pure gore of it made you fall back, head on the ground as you stared up at the dusty sky. It is covered with debris and ashes from the collapsed buildings nearby.

It was a simple fire earlier, quickly turning south when a villain was found on the lower levels. Flattening all buildings nearby. Back-up was called of course, but they were far too late. You were basically gone the second you made contact with the villain. Getting thrown through several walls by an air quirk. Mind going fuzzy just from that, but to make matters worse, a grenade was thrown with you.

You heard the sounds of other heroes and took it as a sign to back down. Resting into the concert underneath you as you tried to stabilize yourself. Ultimately passing out from the pain.

Waking up in the hospital sent you on another trip, you thought you were gone. Dead. The haze that surrounded the hospital consumed you as you looked around. The sterile air, empty with chemicals that dried it up. Beeping coming from your heart monitor, a steady pulse made everything feel even more surreal.

Your arm was in a sling and your left leg was gone. Same as before you passed out. Your ribs hurt as you tried to breathe. Panicking from the pain, a doctor rushed in.

Telling you all the things wrong with you, all the options you had.

Nothing felt good enough. Your body was broken, caved in. You lost not only your leg but most of your mobility, everything hurt. You were told everything would continue to hurt. Physical therapy and healing quirks could only do so much.

You tried to listen as the doctor droned on and on about how they had the best doctors. How they could get you a prosthetic that could help you walk again.

The fact that you wouldn't be able to walk without it stunned you.

How could you ever continue to be a hero in this state? You knew Mirko had done it, even your teacher Aizawa did it. But this felt life-changing. It was life-changing.

You thought you died. You didn't want to die.

"Fucking hell," you turned your attention to Katsuki, who just barged in. Pausing in the doorway as he looked you over.

You could say something sappy and it'd be true. As you looked at him you thought over everything. Barely hearing the concerned questions he asked you before turning to the doctor.

Raising a kid as two pro heroes would be impossible. Katsuki and you wanted kids, you couldn't let them see you like this, or worse. They couldn't live without a mother or father.

You couldn't be a hero.

"I'll take a prosthetic," you spoke out finally.

They both looked at you, the doctor labeling your options, "There are a lot of good options for hero work-"

"I'll just have a normal one," you avoided looking at Katsuki, almost ashamed. You loved hero work. You loved saving people. Working harder each day alongside him as you aimed to be your best.

"Okay, I'll file the paperwork," the doctor excused himself, leaving the room to you and Katsuki.

He stared at you for a while, waiting for you to speak. "I think I'm done," you said softly, "All this hero work, consumes my life."

He grasped your hands in his, "Okay."

"I'm sorry, I know that's not what you wanted-"

"But it's what you want," he shot down your apology, "It's okay."

"I don't know what I'll do-"

"We'll figure it okay together," he got rid of your doubts, "I don't think I could stomach seeing you like this again anyway," he confessed.

Quitting was difficult, it changed your life drastically. You stayed home more often, picking up smaller hobbies that you never had time for before.

Reading more often, baking, cooking, you were even starting to learn how to crochet. You had so much time and it was freeing. Leaving you with a flexible schedule. Helping Katsuki out on cases he needed a second opinion on, or what event he should go for to help his publicity.

Devoting your time to things you loved freely, rather than just hero work. You missed it sometimes, after all, you have been doing it since you were 15 and only stopped a year ago when you were 26.

It made things easier, schedule easily aligning with Katsuki and giving you more time with the spikey blonde. More time together allowed you to get closer, him engaging on your three-year anniversary.

You thought about your wedding, planned for next year, as you flipped through your new recipe book. Stumbling on a delicious-looking meal that you thankfully had all the ingredients for. Grabbing the ingredients absent-mindedly as you thought about the type of wedding you'd have.

Katsuki didn't care much, telling you to go nuts with it. His mom wanted to help though, and you warmly welcomed it. Excited to be close to his family at any opportunity.

Cutting each ingredient carefully as you mix it into the full meal. Humming in thought when you heard Katsuki's keys on the other side of the front door.

He walked into the kitchen after smelling your cooking, every day you offered him a new meal. He loved that you shared this hobby with him.

"What y'making?" he walked behind where you stood at the stove. Wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his chin into your shoulder, looking at what you were doing.

"I just found a new recipe! The cookbook I bought has so many good things," you shared excitedly, "Lots of protein and vegetables, just the way you like it."

"I fuckin' love you," he kissed your neck and hugged you tighter.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a hand towel and wiping your hands off before you turned in his grip, wrapping your arms around his neck. He had his hero mask pushed up over his eyes, holding his hair back. "How was work?" you asked, swaying lightly with him.

"Work," he replied back, leaning down to kiss you.

Your lips connected for a moment before you pulled back, "You need a shower," you tried to smack away the taste of charcoal that was left on your lips. Concerned about how he even had that happen.

He rolled his eyes, squeezing at the fat of your hips, "As long as you join me?"

You looked over your shoulder and at the food, "I don't know, food just got done."

Without another word he pulled away from you and grabbed a pan lid, placing it over the pan filled with food and taking it off the heat. "We'll reheat it later, let's go," he grabbed your hand and put you in front of him as he walked behind you to the shower.

You giggled as you matched the forced pace he was making you walk, "Impatient much?" you teased.

He didn't answer, just pulled his shirt right off your body. He stared at it enough already and wanted more. He groaned when he noticed you were only wearing panties, the cheeky ones that he loved. "Fuckin' knew today was gonna be a good day," he mumbled before kissing you roughly, scaling kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He didn't seem like he could be happier at the fact you weren't wearing a bra, pressing kisses at every bare inch of you.

Nipping at your bud before sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand taking care of the other. "Kats," you whined, pulling him away by his hair when he mumbled a 'what' into your chest, "Shower."

Reluctantly he pulled away, flipping the shower on before ripping his shirt off, pushing his pants and boxers off as well. His hairband had fallen off when he was kissing you earlier. Despite being with him for three years, you still flushed at him bare.

He was built amazingly, sheer hard work sculpted him into a Greek god. You watched his arm ripple in muscle as he checked the temperature of the water before moving to grab you and push you into the water with him. Connecting your lips once in.

"I mean it Kats," you pushed his chest away, making his hair start soaking with water, "Shower."

Making a show of following your orders, he quickly washed his hair. Probably taking the fastest shower of his life before taking his time to run the soap over your body. Not nearly as rough as he washed his own. Kissing your shoulder blade before washing your back, "Beautiful," he murmured into your skin.

You twisted in his hold, deciding you were clean enough before you leaned into him locking his lips in a passionate kiss. You were only human after all, it's impossible to refuse him for long

Bringing your hands up to tangle into his hair, pulling him closer to your height. Easing the strain on the prosthetic, thankful that it was waterproof.

He took anything you gave him, following your lead as you backed yourself into the shower wall. His hands grabbed at your thighs and lifted you, pressing you into the cold tile as he held you up. Kissing his marks over your chest. Layering over where he had already kissed.

"I love you so fucking much," he murmured into your skin, taking a moment to back away and look over you. Soaking in the look you were giving him, full of devotion.

"I love you more," you whispered in reply, pulling him into another kiss. Leaving him to squeeze your thigh, frustrated that you shut him up with a kiss.

He pushed you more into the wall with one hand while he moved his other between you. Trailing it between your folds "It's been too fucking long," he groaned when he felt you, wet and wanting him.

"Can I just have you?" you whined, moving your hand into his hair and pulling desperately. He'd tease you for hours if he could. And with the colding temperature of the water, you couldn't handle that.

"Need me that bad?" he smirked down at you, circling his fingers over your clit meanly.

"Please?"

He wasn't lying when he said it had been too long. The second he gave in and lined himself up, the strain of just his tip was enough to force your head back. The push of him into you felt relieving, it was something you had missed without even knowing.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, head falling into your shoulder as he stilled. Letting you adjust for just a moment before he pulled his hips back. Slowly building pace as he works you both up to the climax.

Breaths tangled together as the steam from the shower clouded your vision.

Your hands were moving over his back and up his shoulders, trying to steady yourself despite his constant thrusts. Knocking the breath out of you each time.

His hand stayed on your clit, moving in sharp circles over you as he knew he wouldn't last. He hasn't had you in so long and wouldn't be held back. Yet he wouldn't be the only one to cum.

He was already close, he was worked up the second he saw you in the kitchen. Seeing you in your home together, cooking for him while wearing his clothes. It made him feel like everything would be okay, he had you. Everything was an effort together rather than alone, and he welcomed it.

The small grunts and moans he was making right next to your ear was sending you up the wall.

"Gonna cum baby? Feel y'fuckin' squeezing me," he panted, working his hips harder into his. You whined in reply, nodding your head frantically. He knew all your spots, bullying his cock straight into your spot.

He felt like he was falling in love all over again any time he looked at you, even now. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and your head lolled back, your body relying on him to stay upright as you blabbed for more. Knowing he'd give anything to you if you just asked. Your legs locked around him when you came, completely losing yourself in his hold as he worked his dick into you. Groaning at you tightening around him before he gave in and met you where you were.

Filling you up, not caring if it got you pregnant or not at this point, he knew everything would be fine.

You looked fucked out, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him, he was melting inside. Reluctantly letting you gain your footing back and letting you clean yourself fully.

It was a blur of a shower afterward. He could only focus on you, mind filled only with love as he crowded you after you dried off.

"You okay, kats?" You spoke softly as you hugged him back.

"Just fuckin love you, got an issue?" he snapped back as he hugged you tighter. He was just as devoted to you as you were to him, even if he didn't always get the time to prove it.

(I'm very meh about this work but I decided to post it anyway, I need to write more and challenge myself. If you have any ideas or requests you should send them in, I'll try to write them!)

You should read my Bakugo x reader if you liked this work!

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haetrack · 8 months ago

Text

(lucky for you) we’re just friends

lee haechan x gn!reader

wc: 6.6k

summary: haechan realizes, for once in his life, he doesn’t know what to do. he's in love with his best friend, and he's sure you don't like him the same way. do you think about him as much as he thinks about you?

warnings: angst, little fluff, bittersweet, unrequited feelings, jealously, argument, confession, dialogue heavy, end of a friendship

heavily inspired by like a friend - pulp

this is part 1 of the how it all goes series!

haechan can feel how his heart pounds in his chest, aching and yearning for something he can’t quite reach.

he’s someone who tries hard to get what he wants, and most of the time, being able to achieve that. he believes if he wants something that bad, then there should be no reason why he shouldn’t be able to get it. he’ll learn, he’ll adapt, he’ll make any changes needed. but now, as he lays in bed within the darkness of his room, he feels lost. nothing’s ever quite compared to this feeling, a feeling of longing for something.

something called you.

he has his phone on his chest, feeling the buzzing of notifications as you text him. you asked if you could come over, despite how late it is and how rain currently is pummeling down. he couldn’t say no to you, his best friend. while he’d be normally happy to see you, he was busy thinking of how it would feel to kiss you before you texted him. he can’t bring himself to pick up his phone, not really sure what to say.

it’s not until he hears knocks at his door that makes him get up. he opens it, and there you are, your jacket drenched in rain while you smile at him. he can’t help the smirk that forms on his face, mirroring your own. he pulls you inside, away from the cold rain and into his warm apartment. you peel your jacket off before pulling haechan into a hug, nuzzling into his shoulder. he can feel how cold you are, his arms hesitantly wrapping around you.

“sorry for coming so late,” you sigh, “just wanted to see you.”

“long day?”

“horribly long. it’s like god was testing me or something.”

haechan laughs as you pull yourself away from him, plopping down on his couch, taking up most of the space. haechan squeezes himself in the small spot left, one hand finding your knee as he tries to comfort you. despite the tiredness of your voice, your eyes shine when they make eye contact with his, almost as if he's healing you.

you start, “i almost ended up not coming here, i thought you fell asleep on me,” he shakes his head, “you weren’t answering me.”

“i was just… in the bathroom.” he lies.

you hum, glancing at him one last time before pulling out your phone. it’s quiet, and haechan can hear the light sound of rain thrumming against his window. you’re here, taking up all his space, not bothering to move you out of the way. whatever’s his is yours, he thinks. he turns to you again, notices how you’re typing on your phone, your attention pulled away from him. he makes a show of grabbing your phone from you, whines coming from your mouth as you try to grab it.

“no phone time when you’re here with me!” he huffs, “you asked to be here so late, so now you have to pay attention to me.”

you frown as you try once more to reach for your phone. haechan laughs loudly at you, enjoying how hard you’re trying. “say please, haechan. maybe even a pretty please, haechan will do!”

you glare at him, inhaling a big breath of air before saying, “pretty please, haechan.”

he cooes at you sweetly before precariously handing your phone back to you. you sigh, now fully seated up as you lean into his side. you miss how he flinches at your touch, how his eyes dart nervously to yours. you lean your head onto his shoulder, eyes closing as he wraps an arm around you.

he likes how this feels, likes how you just come to him no matter how much he annoys you. he wonders if you’re like this with anyone else, wonders if you’d still smile at them if they annoyed you as much as he did. he doesn’t like the thought, biting on his tongue at the uncomfortable feeling inside of him.

he looks to see you now scrolling through instagram, not noticing the longing looks that haechan sends your way. you surprise him when you tiredly look up at him, seeing him slightly flustered for a second before pushing it away. it’s bittersweet, having you like this knowing he’ll never really have you like this. at least not in the way he wants.

he’ll let you do this as many times as you want. he’ll let you take over his mind if you need to.

you: haechannn

you: come pick me upplzzzz

it’s two in the morning and haechan can hear two buzzes coming from his phone. it’s you, probably drunk, asking for a ride home. he’d normally go out to party with you, but one essay and one shift later, he was stuck to his bed. as much as he’d like to go back to sleep, you’re more important. he grabs whatever clothes are closest to him, shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets before driving off.

he has the address from when you had asked him if he wanted to go. but as he pulls up to the place, there is quite literally no spot for him to park. he parks down the street, having to walk a good eight minutes down to the house. he slips past the people outside, into the house that’s filled. despite the amount of people there, he can easily spot you from far away. of course he would, he thinks, you shine the brightest to him.

he taps your shoulder, and as you turn towards him, he can see the growing grin on your face. it’s easy to tell that you’re drunk, the hooded eyes and lazy smile on your face proving it.

“haechan,” you drag his name out, “you don’t know how much i missed you,” you whine into his neck as your throw your arms over his shoulders. he tries to stop the blush on his face from forming from your warm breath on his neck, but fails when he feels your nose nuzzling against his skin. he doesn’t try to pry you off of him, deciding in this one moment to indulge in your touch.

“come on, we gotta get you home so you can sober up.”

he drags you away, saying goodbye to your friends as you both walk out. you lean against him as you both walk down the street, his body warm compared to the cool night. his hand is wrapped around your waist, leaning into your touch. it feels so normal like this, so used to the thoughts of you two together like this playing in his head late at night. he’s not sure if this will ever happen like he wants it to, holding onto you a little tighter than before.

the streets are illuminated by orange street lights, shining down the both of you as the loud music begins to fade as you walk away. he can feel you stumble, him helping you back up as you smile at him. he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to pretend that your smile doesn’t play in his mind constantly. it hurts having you this close, but it hurts even more knowing you probably don’t feel the same way as him.

in the current turmoil of his mind, one thought is louder than the rest. he doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t even want to think it. he tries to push it away, but when he looks as sees the sweet smile on your face, three words begin to form in his throat. he can’t help it, the words begin to bubble up, threatening to slip out of his mouth. before he can stop it, his mouth opens up, sucking in a breath until-

“haechan… you take such good care of me… you’re such a good friend.”

your words are whispered into the cold air. haechan’s mouth shuts, the words dying in his throat as new thoughts are replaced in his mind. he’s only your friend. no matter what he wishes, what he wants, what he feels like he needs, he’ll never get it. this time, there’s no way for him to work to get it- to get you. the smile on your face tells him what you said is real, genuine words despite how drunk you are.

he feels a little stupid as you make it to his car. he opens the door for you, letting you stumble into the passenger seat. once he’s in, he buckles your seat belt, successfully getting you away from the cold and into the safety of his car. he sees how your eyes shut, how your body naturally leans towards his. it’s stupid for him to think that there’s any way that you might like him back.

he grips the wheel, bites his tongue, fighting back words of a confession to your tired mind. he can’t do that to you, and decides it’s better to drive off into the night.

he unlocks his apartment for you, opening the door and taking you straight to his bathroom. he washes your face to the best of his ability, rinses your mouth out with water, and hands you a cup of water. you whine, but he sternly tells you to drink it. after more complaints, you eventually listen to him, gulping it all down.

he didn’t mean to have you come over. you asked if you could in the middle of your car nap, eyes still closed as you spoke. he can’t say no to you. he eyes you, your party clothes still wrapped around you as you gulp down the water. he offers you some of his clothes, and you happily accept them.

“won’t you let me sleep with you, haechan? it’s too cold for you to be alone on the couch tonight.”

you knew him, knew how he’d give you his whole room to himself. he tries to argue with you, but you pull him down next to you. your arms wrap around his body as you nuzzle your neck into his shoulder. if this were any other day, haechan would play along, trying to annoy you. but tonight, his heart is aching while wrapped in your arms.

he loves you.

“... and so i was about to fight my professor, he just wasn’t- hey, haechan? are you even listening?”

haechan tears his gaze off of you from far away. you’re sitting next to your own friends who he doesn’t really talk to. you pay no attention to him, probably not even aware he’s in the dining hall at the same time as you. you look nice right now, smiling and laughing, leaning onto the person at your side. he wonders if you’re talking about him, wonders if you bring him up as much as he talks about you.

he’s taken away from his thoughts as renjun snaps his fingers in front of him, glaring straight at him. haechan sends a pretty smile at renjun, hand on his cheek as he puts all his attention on him, “continue.”

“do you even know what i was talking about?”

“something about… a fight… and your professor…”

renjun huffs, turning around and scanning the room to find what haechan was so distracted with, “if you were paying attention to what i was saying, you would’ve known that the fight would’ve been- oh. oh.”

haechan looks away, eyebrows furrowed knowing that renjun had seen you. it’s stupid, haechan thinks, how you take all his attention. haechan wasn’t even supposed to be here, his class was cancelled, joining renjun to go grab lunch. if he had known you would be here, he would’ve asked to do something else. it’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to you, but he doesn’t want to think about the other night.

“haechan, you can’t keep doing this.”

“doing what? looking at my literal best friend?”

“you know that’s not what i’m talking about.”

haechan sighs, trying to move on. he pushes the food on his plate around, trying to push all thoughts of you out of his mind. he just can’t stop thinking about you. he wonders if there might be any way for you to see him more than what he is- a friend. he can’t force you to like him, can’t force you to think about him. all these feelings for you are building up inside of him, and it only gets worse when he sees you.

haechan looks at renjun, really looks at him and asks, “is there anything i can do about this?”

renjun looks a little startled by his seriousness, “if i’m speaking honestly, there’s not a lot. if you’re the only one feeling like this, then what else is there left to do?”

“it’s just… the other night, we were walking together, and i just felt… it felt different. i realized that i have all these feelings but there’s nothing i can do about them. they have nowhere to go.”

it hurts to think about, and with a quick glance, he sees your smiling face once more. you’re free from worry, free from the stress of knowing how haechan feels. seeing you puts a smile on his own face. if he were just your friend, he’d walk over, say hi, and sit. but he’s here, sat with renjun, talking about how you don’t want him. how you supposedly don’t want him. although it hurts, it’s funny to think about how there might not be anything between you two anymore.

renjun doesn’t laugh, doesn’t get annoyed, he just breathes out, “i don’t think it’s going to happen the way you want it to.”

haechan plays with his fingers, “i know.”

haechan has to pick you up after class today.

he hasn’t seen you in person since the party night. he’s of course texted you, never fully being able to pull away from you. you draw him in every single time, texts filled up with pictures with a text saying this is us. while haechan is fighting to keep everything in, you’re sending him posts that remind you of him. the small gesture makes his heart swell, body aching to be with yours again. it’s only been like, three days, he reminds himself, i’m acting like i’m dying.

he swallows down his feelings, turning on his car and blasting a song to try to think of something else. he can’t, thinking of you sitting in the passenger seat humming along to the song. he thinks about laughing at you when you sing off-key, thinks about how you ask him to sing instead. he thinks he can sing every single song in the world if it would make you happy.

after an excruciatingly long ride, he finally makes it to your class’s building. you let him know you’d be waiting outside, and as haechan pulls up, he sees you. except, you’re with someone else, laughing along with someone that haechan has never seen before. he bites his lip, grips down onto the steering wheel as the sickly feeling of jealousy pools in his body. he honks his cars horn, thinking it might be the only way to get your attention.

you’re startled out of your conversation, turning to find the source of the sound, finding haechan sitting in his car. there’s a smile etched on his face, but his eyes show something else you can’t quite pick out. he watches you say goodbye to this random person, watches as you walk to his car, sliding yourself in. he can’t stay upset too long, tries to shove down the feelings almost slip out.

“hey, haechan. should’ve texted me that you were here, i swear i almost died when you honked.”

“it wouldn’t have been a problem if you weren’t so busy talking to whoever that was.” he bites the inside of his cheek as he drives off to your apartment. he’s supposed to hang out with you, but he’s not sure what’s about to happen.

“be nice!” you say jokingly, “they were just someone from my class, someone kept asking crazy questions during lecture so we were just-”

“laughing together,” he cuts you off, “yeah, i saw.”

you roll your eyes, “clam down, dude. i’m not replacing you, i promise you are still my best friend.”

your words are supposed to calm him down, but it only makes it worse. he doesn’t want to start an argument, doesn’t want to make you feel bad for something you’re not even aware of. but that’s the problem, you can’t see how he looks at you, can’t see that he’s getting jealous of the thought of someone else making you laugh like he does. it’s bad to feel like this as a friend, worse as someone who likes you. he chooses to be quiet.

“anyways, there’s this party i got invited to at a friend of a friend’s house. you wanna go with me?”

“who invited you?” haechan asks, trying to focus on the road instead of the rising jealousy.

“this guy that my friend knows. i wouldn’t have said yes if it weren’t for you,” you chuckle, “i felt bad that you couldn’t go to the party the other night.”

once your words register, he immediately feels bad. you were thinking about him. you felt sorry for him, felt the need to say yes to someone you didn’t know, just for him. he lets out a small laugh, “you know you didn’t have to. we’re literally supposed to hang out today.”

you smile at him, happy that he’s calmed down, “trust me, i wanted to. plus, i wanted to see if i can find someone cute to talk to tonight.”

haechan gapes out, “why would you need that? i’m gonna be there with you the whole night, just talk to me?”

he can see how you give him a confused look, “i meant like, talking talking to someone. you’re supposed to be my wingman.”

“it’s not that, i just- i don’t know. sorry.”

“don’t do that. tell me what’s wrong, please. i’m here for you, i’m your best friend.”

before haechan realizes it, it all just flows out of him, “i don’t want you talking to someone else. i want you to talk to me, want you to spend tonight with me. not some person from class or- or some random person from a party.”

he doesn’t look at you as he continues, “i want you to be with me. and, god, i just- you don’t know how much i want you to just look at me for once.”

his ears are ringing. he can’t hear if you’ve said anything, or if you kept quiet. he’s near your place, wonders if you’ll still let him, let him apologize, let him put it all behind you. instead, he sees how you shift in place, sees how your eyes shift all over, sees you breath in to speak.

“drop me off here.”

“but i-”

“haechan. please drop me off here.”

he can’t breathe, mind going blank as he can feel you run away from him, “i’m sorry, i just- i didn’t mean to- i don’t know what i was saying-”

“don’t make this worse, haechan. i’ll text you, i’ll walk home, just let me get off here.”

he can’t fight this. he can’t keep you in here. he can’t take back what was said. he unlocks the doors, whispering, “okay.”

what has he done?

haechan feels like his life might quite literally be over.

not only did he angrily confess to you, he might’ve just ruined his friendship of many years just to say that he likes you. well, he didn’t outright say i like you but… you could probably tell what he was trying to say. nothing can make this better. like any of his problems, he wishes he could text his best friend. this time, he’s not sure if you would answer him.

the next best thing he can do is call renjun. he doesn’t really want to, doesn’t want to hear a lecture, doesn’t want to hear how he messed up, how messed up he is. at the same time, he doesn’t know what to do. renjun might not either, but calling him would beat the recurring thought of how he’s ruined everything.

so haechan calls him.

“hey, i’m doing like, ten different things right now so-”

haechan interrupts, “i confessed.”

there’s silence on the other end for a few beats, “you did what?”

“i confessed without even thinking. i just rushed it all out with no plan and i-” haechan takes a breath, “i was so jealous, so fucking jealous to where i couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

“and what happened?” renjun sighs, closing whatever book he was reading.

“nothing good, i think. we were supposed to go to a party, i’m assuming neither of us went to the party. i drove home alone, and now i’m here, and nothing feels right anymore.”

“did you try talking or just like, sending a message?”

“no, what’s the point? who’d want to talk to anyone after something like that happens?”

“that’s true.”

it feels like the conversation ended, haechan and renjun sitting in silence on the phone call. haechan can feel how his eyes begin to well up with tears, feeling like everything might truly be over. you’re still his best friend, he still wants to talk to you, laugh with you, cry with you, and do so much more. you’re slipping away from him, and it’s all his fault.

“i know who you are as a person, haechan. you-” haechan hears a small groan as renjun tries to articulate his words, “you can’t give up like this. i know you don’t want to give up like this.”

“but what can i do? it’s all so fucked, i fucked everything up.”

“no, you know what to do. you just can’t do this halfheartedly, this is your best friend we’re talking about. make it work, haechan.”

“and if it all doesn’t work?”

“then that’s how it ends.”

haechan whispers goodnight into his phone, quickly hanging up on renjun. he doesn’t bother trying to hear anything else. his body buzzes with a feeling of longing, quickly moving to his messaging app. he finds your contact, hovering over your name as he moves to text you. he stares at his screen, reads a few texts from nights before, and lets out a breath. his fingers begin typing, and before he can fully register what he’s typing, he sends you a text.

haechan: if it’s okay with you, would you want to come over tomorrow afternoon?

haechan doesn’t go out the next day.

he stays in his room, hovers around in his apartment. haechan keeps on checking on his phone, trying to see if you’ve texted him back already. the sun is beginning to set, and haechan thinks it might actually all be over. it hurts knowing he hurt you, his best friend. you’ve never really argued like this before, haechan not letting you run away from him for more than a second.

now that this has happened, haechan can only think of giving you space. he can’t beg you to talk to him, can’t just ask you to ignore what he said. these feelings that he has are as real as yours are, he can’t look past that. so as he checks his phone one last time, he’s ready to let you go. he moves to sit on the edge of his bed, staring off into space.

it’s not until he hears a knock at his door.

he didn’t invite anyone but you over, and he’s sure you’re not showing up. he trudges to the door, fully expecting to see renjun with a frown on his face when he opens the door. instead, when he opens the door, he sees you standing there. your eyes look tired as you greet him with a faint smile. he awkwardly stands at the door for a moment too long, spluttering as he tries to come up with something to say.

“are you gonna let me in, or what?” you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice.

he blinks, “sorry, uh, come in.”

he moves aside to let you in, giving you space as you walk in. so many times he’s hung out with you, but none of them feel like this. he feels guilty, feeling like he pressured you into coming over. he keeps his distance from you, shifting his weight on his two feet, watching as you look around his apartment before your gaze settles on him. you don’t look angry, you don’t look happy either, but you still smile at him. he can feel his heart jump in his chest.

“look,” haechan starts, “i didn’t even know you were going to come over. i-i’m sorry-”

“let’s not do that just yet, yeah? let’s just… talk. wanna head out to your balcony?”

he nods, quickly catching up to you as he slides open the door to his balcony. you watch how jittery his movements are, a feeling of sadness washing over you as he tries being careful around you. you did this to him, and you don’t really know how to fix it. you move to his cramped balcony, big enough to fit two lawn chairs and the smallest table you’ve ever seen.

you remember the day he bought the table. you watched as he hauled the big box by the balcony, opening it up just to see a small table, staring right back out at him. you both bursted out laughing, hunched over as you pointed at the size of it. haechan’s cheeks were tinted pink as he tried to justify himself for the accidental mistake of buying the wrong size.

“whatever! it’s perfect for out here, perfect for our little space.”

you hummed, “you better not invite anyone to this spot. this is for me and you only.”

“you know it’s only gonna be you. who else would i’d rather have here than you?”

you look away, fitting yourself into the cramped space of the balcony, sitting down on one of the worn-down chairs. he squeezes in, quickly sliding the door shut as he sits on the other chair. he’s not looking at you, choosing to look out at the setting sun, the light cascading over the both of you. it’s quiet, save for the passing cars and the rustling of the leaves on the trees. you breath out, trying to figure out what you want to say.

haechan beats you to it, “i really didn’t think you were gonna come. i texted you so late, and… i don’t know, i was so horrible to you yesterday.”

“the text you sent me was like, the most formal text you’ve ever sent,” you laugh out, “i was so worried that i just had to come over.”

he freely laughs out at your words, feeling himself relax at your words. he has to remind himself again that it’s still you, his best friend. he’s known you for so long, and for the meantime, he can put his feelings at the back of his mind.

you shift a little in your chair, “so… was all of that like, you saying- i mean, you confessing to me? i didn’t want to assume, and i know i kinda just walked out, but i wanted to ask.”

he messes with his fingers, “i don’t know how it happened. i didn’t want it to happen like that, i wasn’t even sure i wanted to say all of that.” he bites down on his lip before speaking again, “i don’t want to call it a confession, but i do want to say it now, properly. i like you.”

you suck in a breath, not really sure what you’re feeling. this is haechan talking to you, your friend for some time. you never really thought too much of how touchy he was or how flirty he was, it just seemed like him. now, as you finally piece it all together, you take note of the longing gaze, the shyness when you flirted back, how he always calmed down with you around.

you see it now too, his eyes softly scanning over you, no sadness in his eyes despite the situation. his look is full of all his feelings for you, and it hurts that you’re barely seeing it now.

“oh,” you dumbly say, “that’s… i’m sorry.”

he lets out a confused laugh, “do you even know what you’re sorry for?”

you try not to laugh too hard, given the circumstances, but you do anyway. haechan joins you, and it feels normal again. “i don’t even know. i can see that you like me now that you’ve told me, but i just- how come i didn’t see it before?”

“i thought that i was pretty obvious with it. renjun even told me that i had to stop being so forward.”

“even renjun told you,” you repeat, “what a good guy. he could see it before i could.”

“he is a good guy, he was there through it all. all the times where i told him how nice you looked one day or how much i wanted to kiss you during a party.”

“you wanted to kiss me? how- how long have you liked me for?” you didn’t mean for your voice to get so high-pitched at the end, but you can’t hide how surprised you are.

he laughs dryly, “i’m not even sure myself. it just kinda happened over time.” he sighs as he feels his phone buzz, opting to turn it off completely, “you just… i liked how you always stayed you. no matter who you talked to, even if i got jealous watching you laugh and smile at other people.”

your heart aches in your chest. he likes you, and at no point did you ever stop to think if you like him. he’s nice, a good friend, funny, and cute. comparing to how he feels about you, though, your feelings almost mean nothing. anyone can use those words to describe him, and you don’t think you feel anymore than that. you can’t say this to him, turning away to try to avoid him altogether.

“what’s wrong?” he takes hold of your shoulder, feeling how it shakes under his touch, “hey, you can tell me. i… i can probably imagine what you’re gonna say.”

“y-you can?” you sniffle, and he lets out a small laugh when he sees that your eyes are filled with tears.

“i think so. i prepared myself for everything, and it’s probably so much better than you just flat out never talking to me again.”

“i could never do that to you!” you splutter out, “you’re still my friend, and i… i’m sorry for saying that.”

he scratches the back of his neck, clearing his throat before he says, “so can i assume you don’t, uh- you don’t like me back?”

you don’t answer right away. you focus on your hands in your lap, twiddling your thumbs together. you know your answer, but you just can’t get it to come out. it feels wrong, almost betraying your friend in a way. you hate seeing him sad, and knowing that you might cause him pain makes everything even worse. you try clearing your throat, opening up your mouth, but nothing comes out.

he doesn’t try rushing you. you can tell he knows. he knows you like the back of his own hand, and your silence tells him everything. yet, he still doesn’t press you for an answer, doesn’t get mad or upset with your silence. there’s not point in doing so, no point in causing an argument that doesn’t need to be made.

finally, you speak up, “i don’t think,” you take a breath in, your words steadily come out, “i don’t think i like you. at least, not in the way you want me to.”

he slowly nods, biting down on his bottom lip as he takes in your words. it’s not that he didn’t expect this, but it’s different when it’s actually coming from you. he’s imagined this, he’s had renjun tell him this, and yet, his heart still hurts. he doesn’t really know what to do. all that he can come up with is, “yeah, that’s what i- that’s what i figured.”

it’s quiet for a while, you both sit there, staring at the sunset in front of you. no one comments on how pretty it looks, how the beams of sunlight strike against the purple hues of the sky. before you can think about it, you say, “i’m sorry-”

“there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. those are your feelings. i can’t make you feel bad over what you feel.”

you let out a shaky breath, “i know. i just, i don’t know, i wish there was more for me to say.”

“then can i ask a question?” you nod, “was there no time where you ever thought that, maybe, you could’ve liked me?”

you laugh out despite how shaky your voice is, “your nosy ass.”

he lets out a genuine laugh, no sadness behind it as he tries to refocus. you shift in your seat a little as you try to think of anything. he makes you happy, recalling all the times he’s wiped your tears away and made you laugh. even just from the other night, he helped you back to his apartment when you were too drunk to do anything. he didn’t have to come and get you, but he did.

even though he’s done all these things, you never thought of him more than a friend. it feels selfish in a way, all the things he’s done for you while you just take from him. you shake your head slowly, haechan watching how you face him, but try not to look at him. you sigh out, “i… it just always felt like you were a good friend to me.”

haechan just nods dumbly. it’s what he can expect, it was never supposed to be ‘more than friends.’ he was never supposed to find fall in love with your smile, how you lean into him when you laugh, or how you come to him when you’re sad or tired. it’s his fault you both feel like this, and he’s scared of what this might mean for the both of you.

he pokes his tongue into his cheek, his hands folded across his chest, “so, what now?”

you stare at the side of his face, his face scrunched up from either the sunlight or the worrying feelings brewing in his head. you’re not even sure yourself. you don’t know what you want, you don’t know what haechan will want in the future, either. it scares you, almost a feeling of expectations that haechan will have of you slowly falling in love with him.

“i’m not sure…” you inhale, letting out the words you really didn’t want to say, “are you… are you still going to like me after this?”

he wastes no time responding, “i’ll always like you as my friend, but i don’t think- i don’t think i can just push away these feelings i have. i won’t let it get in the way of our friendship, but it’s always going to be at the back of my mind.”

you can feel your heartbeat in your throat, trying to get yourself from saying anything that might hurt. in the end, you think, it’s probably better to say this now. “i just- i’m scared that you want me to fall in love with you in the future. i can’t make that promise, even if that’s not what you’re thinking right now.”

he tries cutting you off, “that’s not what i-”

“i know, haechan. but it’s just, we aren’t gonna be the same after this. i’m gonna be aware of how you act around me. i’ll see how careful you are when you hug me, or- or when i try to talk to someone else and you have to hide your feelings.”

his hands grip onto his thighs, your words blurring into each other at the end. he knows what you’re saying, and it almost sounds like you’re trying to pull away from him. he’s not sure how he can get you back, feeling the distance between you both even as you’re seated right next to him. he shuts his eyes, images of you both together flashing behind his eyelids. you’re everywhere, he thinks, he can’t get away from you.

you continue after a bit, “i just think we need time to figure this out. i just, i don’t want to lead you on in any way. i can’t let you keep falling for me when i know it’s just going to hurt you even more.”

he wants to try to reach out to you, grab your hands and beg you to stop. he wants to make a joke, wants to wipe the serious look on your face and replace it with a laugh. he wants to take you back inside, sitting next to you on the couch while pressing a kiss to your cheek. he tries to shake away the thought, now knowing there’s no way that it will ever happen. all he can do is nod at your words.

you pat the armrests of the chair, feeling the need to walk away from here, from him. you can feel your heart breaking for your friend as you stand up suddenly. he watches with you with bleary eyes, eyes begging you to sit back down. he watches how your hands can’t stop moving around, trying to figure out what you want to do.

“i think i want to go now, haechan. it’s- it’s getting late, and i don’t want to keep you for too long.

he subconsciously nods, sliding open the door for you as you rush into his apartment. he follows you in a daze, his body seeking at your warmth as you pull away from him. he wants to reach out and hold your hand, pulling you against him as he laughs against your shoulder. he swallows, watching how you awkwardly stand in his apartment.

“text me if you need anything. if you feel bad, don’t- don’t hide it from me. i’m still your friend, okay? remember that.”

he’s not entirely sure, but he thinks he nods at your words and lets out a small okay. he opens the door for you, letting yourself out, standing at the doorstep for a little longer. “i love- i care about you, haechan. i’m here for you, always.”

he watches you rush down his hallway, entering the elevator as it opens for you. he slowly makes his way back to the balcony, leaning against the metal fencing of it. this almost feels like a last goodbye, and he’s not sure if he’ll ever see you again. at least, not as friends. he finds you walking down the street, hands moving to your face as you presumably wipe away tears.

he could’ve held back his feelings. he could’ve never fallen in love with you. he could still be hanging out with you today, laughing on his couch as he puts on a dumb romcom. he could’ve still had it all with you, but he threw it all away in a selfish act of love. he doesn’t feel bad for ever loving you.

as haechan watches you walk away from him, he can’t help but wonder if all this time spent with you was worth it. the times cramped up in your apartment, times where you cried out to him, times where you were the only person who could heal him. all the times where you only thought of him as a friend while he could only wish for more with you.

he doesn’t think he could ever regret it.

a/n: this is my first fic without any smut and i am so happy with how it came out… i know how hard it is to fall off w someone so i just had to… *looks out a window* i hope this wasnt too sad but i also hope it was...

taglist: @mwahaechz @froggyforyoongi @the-universe-in-you-jjh @dorkyji @ppeachyttae @omlhyck @hazyhae @vip-access @snflwrhaerecs4u @forhaever @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @haechology @candyeollies

#nct fic #nct scenarios #nct angst #haechan fic #haechan angst #haechan scenarios #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #nct 127 angst #nct dream angst

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ladyloveandjustice · 5 months ago

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Yuri Manga for New (AND Not-So-New) Readers

I was talking on discord about some good yuri for beginners, and figured I'd repost here.

I get way more detailed some of these recommendations in this post, and there's great recs from another person too! Check it out!

I'm doing this accounting to various tones and tastes, so what works as a beginner yuri for one person might not for another, just read the info to figure out what your jam is.

I'll put a star by the ones about adults (which is the majority of them) since I've found that's always something people want.

Goodbye my Rose Garden (Victorian yuri w/ beautiful art, just beautiful all around)*

How Do We Relationship? (messy adult relationships and lots of actually realistic intimacy)*

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat- (A woman loves to cook but doesn’t have a huge appetite, only to find the woman next door to her does! She cooks for her and they really start to bond over food and the trials of being working adults. Yes, this is the one where the woman googles lesbian. It's really good)*

Bloom into You- a common go-to yuri for beginners for a reason, about a girl who believes she can't fall in love meeting a girl who wants to date her specifically BECAUSE she can't fall in love. Find out more about it and hear my thoughts here. It has a gorgeous anime that doesn't cover the complete story.

Doughnuts Under the Crescent Moon (sweet office lady romance, ace rep) *

Catch These Hands! (These two women were delinquents and rivals in high school, they meet up again, one reveals she was always into the other, she challenges her to a fight on the condition that if the other woman loses she'll date her. Lots of slapsticky fun and great for any lover of girl delinquents)*

Run away with me, Girl (there's some abuse shown in this one, but it's a story about healing, the premise is these girls dated in high school, but one of the pressured herself "normal" and marry a man, that man turns out to be abusive, so when the former lovers reunite, they decide to run away together. It's got beautiful art and a well done story)*

The Moon on a Rainy Night (absolutely spectacular, explores the relationship between a hard of hearing girl and her closeted classmate, the characters are complex and the writing is so good!)

Kase-san And...- Starting with Kase-san and the Morning Glories, this is a very fluffy and sweet high school romance. It also has a short movie. (as the manga goes on they become college students, too)

The Two of Them Are Pretty Much Like This (slice of life about a voice actress and anime screenwriter who live together as a couple. Unfortunately the ending is a bit abrupt (and likely premature) but I love their relationship)*

My fave Otherside Picnic is great for scifi and (mild) horror lovers. It's Scifi creepypasta adventure yuri. It's a slow burn but does truly spectacularly deliver on the gay. Has an anime, it's not great, you should start with the novels. Wrote an article here. https://www.animefeminist.com/how-otherside-picnic-masterfully-uses-horror-to-explore-abuse-and-show-healing-queer-love/ *(v young adults, college students)

The Guy She was Interested in Wasn't a Guy at All: (A web manga about a girl who works at a record shop. Her classmate , Aya, wanders in but doesn't recognize her because she has her hair hidden with a hat and is wearing a face mask, and Aya assumes she's a guy. They bond over music and slowly start to get closer...and Aya's finds her heart is fluttering not only over this mysterious boy, but her female classmate that seems a lot like him...) It's going to get a physical release soon.

I Married my Best Friend to Shut My Parents Up (girl and her friend get married simply so her parents will stop bugging her about being single. You can probably guess where it goes from there) *

I Married my Female Friend (similar premise, except no parents involved, it's a platonic marriage they both agreed to with the promise they'll divorce if one of them falls in love. But one woman has decidedly not platonic feeling for the other that she's hiding from her, so It will likely turn romantic, it hasn't all come out here yet so I haven't finished it)*

Monthly in the Garden with my Landlord* (it didn't really hit with me but I might give it a shot again, it's solid despite the terrible title, a woman moves into a house and finds she'll be cohabitating with an idol) (Some more titles I haven't fully read that could appeal: After Hours*, Still Sick*, Cheerful Amnesia*)

My Cute Little Kitten (two roommates adopt a cat...and maybe fall in love?)*

I think all of those work as solid intro- though it does depend on what flavor you're looking for!

This article also covers some of these recs and some manga I didn't mention due to not having completely read it. so check it out: The Beginners Guide to Yuri Manga.

Here's some titles to try when you're a little more familiar with yuri (or you can try them now! I'm not your boss!)

SHWD (action yuri that's taking forever to come out over here physically, featuring extremely muscular women fighting monsters. I think it was forced to end prematurely too)*

Kiss and White Lily for my Dearest Girl: (I'm only three volumes in, but it's really enjoyable. The main storyline is about two academic rivals, where one is determined to rank first in class, and the other is an effortless genius who becomes intrigued at the possibility of someone beating her. Honestly they have the kind of messy combative sexual tension I wish we'd see more often in yuri because it's so good. The story follows other couples too. However, big warning for some nonconsensual kisses in the first volume at least).

Sweet Blue Flowers/Aoi Hana- (This one is a little bit dated, and boy is the ending weirdly paced, but a lot still holds up imo. A painful and sweet coming of age tale, it also has an anime that's good but ends too soon.

One teenage characters backstory involves incestuous (older cousin) the perpetrator of which pulls the "oh no did I turn you gay? thing" but it's definitely framed as a bad thing. )

Yuri is My Job- a story about messy lesbians in a yuri-themed cafe, and how their real relationships differ from the personas they put on. Read more about it here. Big warning for sexual assault of a minor (by an adult villain) in volume 12. Has an anime covering early material.

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leqonsluv3r · 3 months ago

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Hello Queen Bee :) Your blog is awesome and Leon is BAE! :D

If you're still taking requests, can I please request headcanons for RE2!Leon falling in love with an older female cop who's of a higher rank (Sergeant or above) and confessing his feelings to her after he saves her from being attacked by a suspect?

guilty as sin?

—re!2!rookie leon kennedy x sergeant!cop reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist prompt game

an: sorry i’ve been so MIA, i suck balls ik. i love you all though for being patient and loving me anyways. this shit was so sweet to write it gave me diabetes ngl. pls reblog and like, yk the drill pookies <333

rookie!leon who notices you the first day at his police academy training, he doesn’t notice that you seem him staring. you think it’s endearing and it’s been a while since anyone has looked at you like that. you decide to let him stare, what’s the worst that can happen?

rookie!leon who enjoys the way you always bite your lips when your worried, when your trying to have a debriefing, he knows your probably worried because of all the pressure that’s on you. but he always makes sure to give you his undivided attention and respect. it’s the best he can give you. for now.

rookie!leon who makes sure your doing okay when you work late hours, he always stops by your office to check on you. sometimes you let him come into your office, sit with you, talk a bit. something about the passion for the job in his eyes, it puts you at ease, makes you feel better. like being a sergeant was worth it at the end of the day.

rookie!leon who tries to make sure he has no problems with issuing complaints to you. he doesn’t like putting more stress on your shoulders but it’s the least he can do, you have a big and stressful job. he just wants to make it easier for you. even if it’s only a little bit.

rookie!leon who tries to deny after four months that he has feelings for his sergeant, he knows he shouldn’t. he knows you probably don’t feel the same way. but after months of getting to know you and being close to you…it was so hard but it was equally as rewarding at the same time.

rookie!leon who goes on his own patrol for the day, hearing over the radio that your taking a 10-64 (a crime in progress) which wasn’t unusual for you as a sergeant. but still, he worried even though he shouldn’t. he knew you were a strong and capable person but things still happened, things that weren’t always in your control.

rookie!leon who hears you call for backup when he stops for gas. you barely ever called for backup, but he jumped in his car as fast as he could (like he normally would’ve for anyone else) and copied on the radio. he had never driven so fast in his life with his sirens on and weaving in and out of cars like his life depended on it.

rookie!leon who makes it there, but it’s too late. you’ve been shot in the shoulder, kicked and beaten like you had gotten into a fight. he calls for EMTs and medical, holding your beaten body close to him. your in and out of it, trying to stay awake and leon does what he can. he even tries to crack those corny jokes that you swore you hated.

rookie!leon who holds your hand when the paramedics come, you hold it back with whatever strength you have left. despite the situation and the immense worry he has for you right now; his stomach flutters. he would jump in front of a bullet for you, he has a feeling you would do the same.

rookie!leon who helps you recover and heal, offering to stay with you on leave while your shoulder and bruised ribs heal. offering to do whatever and help as much as he can, he swears he’s not in love with you, but…he can’t fight the truth much longer and neither can you.

rookie!leon who rubs your back and plays with your hair when your sleeping on your couch, it’s a miracle you finally got into a comfortable position. it’s weird to think that your his sergeant, that he’s supposed to be at your beck and call but your not even strong enough to lift your shoulders. he doesn’t mind, he swears it’s platonic despite the butterflies that swarm his stomach when your around.

rookie!leon who takes you to your chiropractor and your physical therapist, desperate to help you heal. he needs you to be better again so that he can be better again, he needs that more then he needs air (he believes).

rookie!leon who keeps trying to deny it, same as you, that you both have fallen in love with each other. so when he invites you over for dinner, making his famous pasta (it’s really spaghetti), your thrilled and you accept. he’s convinced that he’s doing all this because you’re better and because your healing. but that’s his mind just trying to deny what his heart wants.

rookie!leon who cooks the dinner, watching as you arrive maybe an hour later in a beautiful little sundress. he’s never seen you dress that way, it brings color to his cheeks and makes his heart race. he doesn’t know how to react or even think straight. the scar on your shoulder from the attack is healing, reminding him that your brave and that you survived something terrible. but despite all that, your still here with him.

rookie!leon who serves you both dinner in his tiny apartment kitchen, serving you both wine and spaghetti. he tries to fight down the butterflies long enough to eat the food he spent so long on. but it’s impossible with you smiling at him like that across his small table, your eyelashes fluttering and your face cast in a warm glow. he feels so damn lucky right now to just be in your presence. even if your not aware of it.

rookie!leon who manages to eat, making small talk with you and laughing at your jokes. but when you laugh at his, he feels like the entire earth has been tilted in an axis. he’s so happy, so in love with you and it sucks because he knows you don’t feel the same. you couldn’t feel the same, your his superior, his boss.

rookie!leon who is oblivious to your touches on his arm and the way your looking at him like you want to eat him alive. he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, the sweetest man you’ve ever let into your life and you feel like your heart could escape your chest whenever you look at him. especially now, when he’s talking so adamantly about his passions and things he enjoys outside of the station. it’s like he’s coming to life in front of you in a way you’ve never seen before. and it makes your heart palpitate.

rookie!leon who doesn’t stop you when you move his small little chair closer to his at his tiny kitchen table, sipping on your wine and keeping eye contact with him. your just listening to him talk, share his story and his life, something that hasn’t happened yet.

rookie!leon who swallows when you lean in and press a kiss to his lips, his brain freezing and whatever stupid story he was telling dying in his mouth. he has a more important matter because your lips are touching his. they’re soft, they’re moving slowly and gently against his like pillows. he doesn’t know if he can get his brain working fast enough to kiss you back.

rookie!leon who kisses you back a little when you try to pull away, his hand gently coming up to hold your jaw as he moves his lips against yours. his brain and his heart cheering in succession that he’s finally getting something he desires and deserves.

rookie!leon who flushes after you both pull away from the kiss, not quite knowing how to react. your both adults here but the situation causes both of your cheeks to heat up like little kids with crushes. he has no choice but to confess his feelings, explaining things carefully incase you regretted the kiss. he just doesn’t want to have his heartbroken again, he wants you, he needs you. he’s convinced.

rookie!leon who is shocked when you confess that you feel the same, your hand moving to hold his and sooth his worries. the doubts circling his mind like water down the drain. he doesn’t mind now, now he’s got nothing to worry about now that your here. now that your telling him you feel the same. he swears he could die happy.

rookie!leon who makes it official with you two weeks after the dinner. taking you out on an official date. you both go to dinner and he drives you home. another kiss is shared on your front porch, not the first but the second and it’s even sweeter. leon is convinced he could never get tired of kissing you.

rookie!leon who’s not really a rookie anymore, after five years. he’s made a name for himself at the RPD with you by his side. the only difference now is that you both wear rings to signify your love and your carrying his child. he got what he deserved and what he wanted most and he swears that life with you is the best it could get. and he can’t wait for the rest of it.

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velnoni · 2 months ago

Note

any romantic/nsfw headcanons for stanley pines in a relationship with a trans man who has top surgery already? can be young or old stanley, it doesn't matter

Admittedly, I've never written for a trans male reader, so I hope this came out good. Hope you enjoy it!

Stan Pines x Trans Male Reader

His dating pool is quite minimal if we're being honest here but when he meets you he's genuinely embarrassed, trips over his words a bit, and sweats more than normal. Definitely has the hots for you.

Over the years he's mellowed out and accepted that he could be into guys as well, keep in mind this is a fella who grew up in the 50s so expect him to be a bit nervous or rough around the edges. He shows a genuine interest in you and tries to woo you by giving a tour of the Myserty Shack, ending on the note of giving you his personal number.

Enjoys showing you off. Does not care for the age gap if there is one. Truth be told, he hadn't realized how lonely its been all these years. He really likes giving you kisses on the forehead or sneaking up behind you to tickle your sides in the morning. Will proudly grab your shoulder or waist in public and wiggle his eyebrows to make you laugh or get flustered.

In regards to your top surgery scars, he won't ask too many questions except for maybe did it hurt or how long it took to heal. If you ever feel uncomfortable about it or how they look, he'll smile gently before raising his own wife beater to show his aged body littered with scars, each one with stories from his younger days. Claims that you're both matching.

"They ain't somethin' to be worried about trust me." And he genuinely means it. He's not gonna pretend to know what you been through or force a story outta you. But just wants you to feel comfortable in your own skin, especially around him. Life is too short to be worrying unless you hear sirens.

He does like to kiss the scars or touch them. He likes how they feel under his fingertips.

He'll call you handsome, beefcake, cutie, or a shortened version of your name as terms of endearment. Wonders if it's appropriate to buy flowers for guys, too. He's a bit old school and might get you a bouquet of daises for the first date. If you do that for him, he'll nervously laugh and accept the flowers. If his eyes are watering no they're not.

On slow days, when it's just the two of you laying in bed, he likes to cuddle and caress your happy trail if you have one. If not, then he'll run his hands alongside your belly till he doses off.

nsft under the cut

He likes to top as it's something he's more used to and will gladly eat you out if asked. Enjoy when you wear more revealing outfits near him because his body will act like a hormonal teenager around you.

He's pretty good with his tongue and fingers, a bit on the rusty side, but enjoys hearing your moans when he slips his fingers inside your tight walls. He likes to edge you a lot since if he cums once it'll take longer for him to get it back up. His stubble when he leans in to kiss your neck during intercourse ironically makes you feel more sensitive.

Please sit on his face. He loves squeezing your ass a lot and smelling your natural musk right on his face, it drives him wild.

If you want him to use toys on you at first, he can't help be slightly offended. He ain't good enough for you? But you reassure him that it's a good way to spice up the night and help when he needs a break. He doesn't mind plunging dildos inside of you every now and then after that convincing argument, plus it's fun to push your limits with permission.

Pegging him, fingering him? It'll be a very long time before you can convince him to bottom for you or just try new things. It's unfamiliar territory but maybe you coax him just enough with a blowjob and a lot of explaining then maybe just maybe you'll be greeted with the view of a nearly knocked out Stan painted with his own cum, with your strap on deep inside his ass.

#gravity falls #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls fandom #stanley pines x you #stanley pines x reader #stanley x reader #stan pines x reader #stan pines #stanley pines #stan pines x male reader #male reader

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elizaleclerc · 6 months ago

Note

OMG PART TWO TO 'i dont know you at all' PLEASEEE <33

here to serve the ppl !

i don’t know you at all 🤍 (part two)

lando norris x reader

read part one here <3

summary: lando heals from bad habits as the racing season gets underway (warning for alcoholism)

song: drunk, running by lizzy mcalpine

author’s note: wanted this part to be a little angsty still but mostly sweet too <3 (prob won't do a part 3) also hit 50 followers so yay me!!

word count: 2k

The exhilarating racing season was once again in full swing, providing a much-needed break from Lando's reckless behavior and destructive habits. After his violent outburst where he drunkenly hurled a glass at your head, he had promised to change his ways. And true to his word, he stopped going to wild parties and completely gave up drinking. The apartment was once again filled with a sense of peace, and you found yourself back in the comforting routine of sleeping beside him each night. He seemed like the same old Lando that you had always loved, but you couldn't help but feel that deep down, he still struggled with his inner demons of addiction.

As the racing season continued, Lando was once again fully immersed in his career. Every weekend, he was out on the track, pushing himself and his car to the limit. You loved watching him race, feeling a sense of pride and admiration as he effortlessly weaved through the other cars. But at the same time, you couldn't help but worry about him.

You knew that once he got back into the cockpit of a race car, he had no choice but to be sober. You couldn't drink every night and still be healthy enough to be a Formula One driver. And while you were glad that racing forced him to stay away from alcohol, you also feared that once the season ended, he would fall back into his old habits.

But for now, you tried not to think about it and simply enjoyed seeing a glimpse of his normal self again. Surrounded by his friends in the paddock, Lando's infectious smile and carefree attitude returned as he joked around with his teammates and rivals. His world had become solely you and racing again, and it was a relief to see him find joy in those two things.

As Lando sat in his driver's room, getting dressed and mentally preparing for the upcoming Miami Grand Prix, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and pride. This was the second season that you were accompanying him in the McLaren paddock. And just like before, the team welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of their own.

You sat on Lando's small plush bed as he finished getting dressed, admiring his neon helmet that sat on the table next to you. The bright colors and design always caught your eye, and it was a symbol of his identity as a racer.

“How are you feeling about today?” You asked him, breaking the comfortable silence in the room.

He turned around to face you, a small grin on his face. “Not too bad,” he replied. “The car felt good in practice and Quali, it's got the pace to win.” You nodded, knowing how important it was for Lando to have confidence in both himself and his car. He had been working tirelessly with his engineers to fine-tune every aspect of the car for this race.

“I'm sure you'll do great,” you reassured him with a smile.

Lando's face lit up with a wide, toothy grin upon hearing your words. “I hope so,” he replied, leaning in to give you a quick, tender kiss. Your hand instinctively cupped his cheek, pulling him in for another kiss, this one filled with more passion and desire. As you stood up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you as the kisses became more heated. In these moments, all the harsh memories of post-party arguments and unwanted touches faded away. All that mattered was being enveloped in Lando's embrace, lost in each other's lips.

As his lips pressed against your neck, your breath caught in your throat and your heart rate quickened. "I love you," you whispered into his ear, feeling his soft kisses and love bites in return.

His smile was evident even through the passionate exchange of kisses. "You know you mean everything to me," he said in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down your spine.

"I know, my love," you grinned, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. He had told you countless times that he raced not only to win but to make you proud, and every time it made your heart swell with pride. You could see the positive changes he was making for the better, and it only strengthened your love for him.

As he headed out of his drivers room towards the starting grid, you followed close behind. The atmosphere in the paddock was buzzing with energy and anticipation as everyone prepared for what would surely be an exciting race.

You watched from the McLaren garage as he expertly maneuvered through each turn and overtook other cars on the track. It was clear that he had full control over his car and was pushing it to its limits. With only a few laps left in the race, Lando radioed into his team requesting updates on his position. He was currently in second place, but with the leader's increasing tire degradation, Lando was quickly approaching the opportunity to overtake him.

You gazed on in the paddock watching the last couple of laps unfold. Tensions were rising, and on the second to last lap, Lando finally overtook his way into first place. You felt giddy with excitement, and before you knew it the checkered flag was waved.

This was the first win that Lando had earned while the two of you were in a relationship. You paced down to the podium celebration with the rest of the McLaren crew. Your heart was overjoyed as you bit your bottom lip in excitement.

With the roar of the engines still ringing in his ears, Lando emerged from his car, hastily pulling off his helmet and sprinting towards you and the rest of the team. He barely spared a glance for his colleagues before rushing towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. Through the metal fence that separated you, he pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply as if trying to imprint your scent into his memory forever. "I'm so proud of you," Your voice cracked with emotion as you held him close, fighting back tears. A mental image of Lando stumbling home from a wild party flashed through your mind, highlighting just how much things had changed in the past few months.

“I love you so so much,” His voice was cracking too, and as he pulled back you saw the faint glimpse of tears in his eyes. He grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. Embracing you one more time, he left to go up to the podium celebration.

As he ascended the podium, a triumphant smile lit up his face as he held up his gleaming trophy. He glanced down at you with adoration and blew a kiss in your direction. The sunlight bathed him in a golden glow, highlighting the lines of his chiseled body and the flush of exertion on his tanned skin. He cradled his first place trophy like a cherished treasure, his pride evident in the way he held it close to his chest. Your heart swelled with love and admiration as you watched him bask in the glory of his victory.

The weight of his past struggles and mental battles hung heavy in the air, unseen by the world around him. As he stood on that podium, basking in the love and admiration of those around him, you could only pray that he would hold onto this moment forever. He had endured so much pain and fought through it all with incredible resilience. This race win was a well-deserved triumph, a validation of his strength and determination a thousand times over.

As the excitement and chaos of the Grand Prix died down, you found yourself alone with him in his driver's room. The air was thick with tension, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted. On one hand, everyone expected him to go out and celebrate at the clubs in Miami as the race winner. But you knew he was struggling with a difficult decision - whether or not to join the party and risk breaking his sobriety.

"Do you want me to come with you?" You offered, torn between wanting to support him and wanting to retreat to your hotel room for an early night.

As he sat next to you, head low as he muttered “Maybe,” you couldn't help but feel torn. You wanted him to enjoy his victory and let loose, but at the same time, you understood his fear. Your hand intertwined with his, offering support and reassurance.

But as a tear fell from his eye, your heart ached. He sniffed, "I just don't want to put myself in a position where I could hurt anyone." You knew what was going through his mind - the night in his apartment, the pain he had caused you. It was a wake-up call for him, one that he hated but needed. His fear of hurting someone again consumed him, even though he had promised to change.

“It’s okay, I know how hard you’ve worked to change.” You knew your words could only do so much to make him feel better, but you came to a compromise. You would come with him to the club, making sure that he didn’t do anything drastic.

As the night wore on, you could see Lando slowly becoming more relaxed and comfortable in the club setting. He mingled with other drivers and even took a few shots of water when they were offered to him. You were proud of how well he was doing and made sure to let him know it. You leaned into him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He smiled at you, “Thank you for being here with me tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The two of you danced and laughed together, enjoying the celebratory atmosphere of the club. At one point, Max came over to congratulate Lando on his win and the two of them shared a friendly hug. It was a nice moment that reminded you that even though they were fierce competitors on the track, they were all still friends off it.

As the stars twinkled in the night sky, Lando's infectious laughter filled the air as he walked arm in arm with you back to your hotel room. His warm embrace and the soft hum of a familiar song made you feel at ease and content. As you reached your room, he turned to face you with a genuine smile on his face.

"Tonight was magical," he whispered, pulling you into a tight hug before leaning down to press his lips against yours in a sweet and tender kiss. The moment felt like it could last forever as the warmth of his body and the gentle touch of his lips stirred butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you for coming with me.”

You smiled back at him, “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” The two of you continued kissing until eventually collapsing onto the bed in each other’s arms. You snuggled up against each other as sleep started to take over your exhausted bodies. The Lando you had once loved had finally come back to you. You knew realistically he didn’t need you there at the club to make sure he didn’t relapse, but you were more than willing to support him. “I’m really proud of you, you know.” You told him as your head rested on his chest.

“Thank you, my love,” he replied, his words dripping with sincerity as he placed a gentle kiss atop your head. You were his everything, the reason for every waking breath and every beat of his heart. He would do anything to make you happy, to see that beautiful smile light up your face. As he held you in his arms, he couldn't help but envision the rest of his life with you by his side - growing old together, experiencing all of life's ups and downs together, and loving each other through it all.

#formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1

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cozage · 1 year ago

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Kicks door down: HELLO

I accidentally sent this request when they were closed so sorry abt that. BUT.

Can you do the water healing one where y/n almost (or does. I’m down for angst) dies because they pushed themselves too much? Bonus points if they literally had no other option

Hi friend! This took me a second to get done because WOAH it was angsty!

CW: Reader death bc i love angst (blame supernova not me), marineford spoilers :) Characters: Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace Word Count: 2.8k

Part 1

Zoro

Zoro trusted you. He did. But Luffy shouldn’t be as energetic as he is right now, even with your healing. Luffy had gone down three times. And Zoro knew you had healed him twice before you had hit your limit. Zoro had seen you vomiting from the pain before he had to go fight his own battle. He had left you curled up in a ball crying in pain, but alive.

It didn’t make sense how Luffy was so…bouncy. He should be sleeping off the pain and exhaustion from battle, but he wasn’t. So Zoro set off to find you, afraid of what he might find.

There was an urgency to his movement, his pace faster than normal as he made his way to the last place he saw you. But you weren’t there. Instead, he found a trail of blood, leading off into a side hallway.

It was your blood. Zoro wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. Zoro clenched his jaw, preparing for the worst as he rounded the corner. But it was just another blood trail.

He was running as he followed it, weaving around corners and down hallways. He finally came to a door, and the trail ended right in front of it. The doorknob had a dark red liquid on it, but Zoro hardly paid it any mind as he pulled the door open. He found you on the other side, sprawled out on the floor. He dove down to you, looking for any open wound that would need to have pressure applied.

“Please,” he begged. “Wake up.”

He could tell by the amount of blood around you that it was too late to save you. He kneeled next to you and lifted your limp body, trying to get you to sit up. He checked for a pulse or any signs of breathing, but as he expected, there weren’t any. And so he held you, brushing away the hair that was matted on your face and whispered endless apologies. He should’ve found you sooner. You were only dead now because of his mistakes earlier.

He held you against his chest and pressed his forehead against yours. Zoro knew he should be crying, but he hasn’t cried in years. He just sat there, softly begging you to wake up, waiting for you to show any signs of life.

When the rest of the crew finds him, he’s as still as a statue. Nami’s wails and Chopper’s movements around your body don’t even faze him. He doesn’t even really hear them. It’s like he’s underwater, just waiting to wake up from this nightmare. Because he can’t survive the cold reality of living alone without you.

Luffy

“Don’t heal me, you won’t…”

Those had been Luffy’s last words to you before he had fallen into unconsciousness from his injuries. He had a vague memory of you giving him a soft kiss and whispering something about the king of the pirates, but Luffy wasn’t sure if that was a dream or not.

Now, as he looked at your broken body, he only felt one emotion.

Rage.

At himself. At you. At the universe, for being so cruel. And at the man in front of him, who took you away.

Everyone thought that your death would immobilize Luffy, in the same way that Ace’s had. But it didn’t. He screamed in rage, and even his own crewmates struggled to stay conscious from the overwhelming power Luffy unleashed.

Luffy had struggled against his foe, but now the fight was over in a moment. It was like a beast came out of him, snarling and destroying everything in its path. The enemy hadn’t even known what had hit him before he was dead. Luffy had a no kill policy, but an eye for an eye seemed more than fair right now.

Only after the enemy was destroyed, did Luffy mourn. He ran to your side, asking Chopper to heal you. He begged the reindeer, pulling out each piece of equipment demanding “Have you tried this?!”

Half of the stuff wouldn’t have helped even if you were alive, but he still begged Chopper to try. And Chopper indulged him, even though the little reindeer was sobbing himself.

When everything was out of the bag, Luffy finally gave in to despair. It was this moment where he went into complete shock, inconsolable at the thought of you truly being gone. He beat on the ground next to you, screaming and sobbing.

“Please! Please come back!” He screamed over and over again, until his voice was gone. Even when his voice was gone, he just sat there and sobbed next to you. The crew sat with him quietly, waiting for him to finish his grieving. They sat with him all day and late into the night, each of them crying in their own way with him.

Sanji

Sanji had only seen this much blood one other time before. On Thriller Bark, when Zoro had taken all of Luffy’s pain. That’s what you had done too: taken all of Luffy’s pain. And Zoro’s pain. And his own. You had taken on all three of their injuries so they could keep fighting.

“Go,” you whispered, laying on the floor. You tried to keep the sobs out of your voice, but Sanji heard them and stayed where he was.

He held your head in his lap, gently stroking your hair. “Does this hurt, my love?”

“Sanji. You need to go fight.” You didn’t want him to see you like this. You knew it was the end.

“I’m not leaving. You’re hurt. You need me.”

“I need you to go do your damn job,” you said. Tears were flowing out of your eyes onto his pants. “I need you to beat these guys and go find the All Blue. And make sure Luffy becomes King of the Pirates. And Zoro-” you struggled to breathe. “Zoro needs to be the greatest swordsman. Promise me?”

“Shhhh. Don’t talk,” he whispered. His voice was so soothing. You could feel your eyes getting heavier with each word. “Save your strength.”

“Sanji,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“I promise.” His voice was thick with tears. “Just stay with me. I’m here.”

You felt wet drops hit your head, but you were too tired to turn and see if he was crying. You couldn’t even offer false hope. Words were too hard to form. Perhaps just a short rest would be good for you.

Sanji was too scared to check your pulse, but he knew when you were gone. You just felt different in his arms. He couldn’t explain why.

He sobbed. But he didn’t beg. He knew it was useless. A part of him had been scared of this happening since the very beginning. His father always told him he was cursed. Everything he loved always died. He was foolish to think you’d be the exception. And now he was alone again. It was almost enough to convince him to throw himself into the ocean and join you in the afterlife.

But no, he made a promise. Your dying wish. So he had to do this for you and for his friends. He would protect Luffy, he would find the All Blue, and he’d even help that stupid marimo. Not because he wanted to do it. But because his promise to you was the only thing worth living for now.

Law

When Law came back from the brink of death, he knew it was bad. When he came to his senses, he was laying on the ground, and you were crumpled on top of him. You had saved him again, given his energy back to keep fighting. And now you were in pain because of it.

He could still feel his energy returning to him, slowly now. He cursed, realizing you were still struggling to help him.

“Stop!” he hissed. He shambled you away from him, and you landed in the alleyway across the street with a sickening smack against the ground.

“I told you not to help me!” he screamed at you. “I can fight my own battles!”

A roar came from down the street, and he remembered the reason he was so beat up in the first place. The enemy was closing in again, but with this newfound energy he would finish them off. And then he would deal with you.

The battle was over quickly. It had been close before, but now he had the clear advantage, invigorated with energy from you and with the rage of almost losing.

He walked back to the alley to find you, anger coursing through his veins at what you had done. You had made a promise, and you had always stuck to it. But he still hated it.

“I told you not to help me during battle!” he yelled as he approached you. “I told you not to endanger yourself!”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t even move, and that’s when Law realized you were still in the same position you had been when he sent you away. Your chest wasn’t even rising and falling.

Panic spiked his heart rate, and he quickly shambled over to you. He ran a scan over your body. No Life Detected.

No. No, this couldn’t be happening. His knees grew weak, and he collapsed next to you.

“Y/n-ya. Wake up.”

But you were still frozen in place, only a trail of blood running from the corner of your mouth.

“Please,” he begged, tears filling his eyes. “Please don’t do this. You promised.”

Your limp body offered no response, and he switched from begging to action. He began CPR, rushing through the events that led to this. You had been alive when he woke up, and the fight had only taken a few minutes. Your body wasn’t rigid, so there was still a possibility he could breathe life back into your lungs.

But he was the Doctor of Death, and no miracles were performed that day. Instead, his crew found him an hour later, still giving you chest compressions. They watched for thirty minutes, before Shachi finally stepped in.

“Captain,” Shachi said standing next to him. “I don’t think-”

“Shut up!” Law barked. He didn’t stop his rhythm. If he could just get your heart to beat on its own for a moment, it would all be okay.

“You can’t leave me,” Law choked out in a sob. “You promised.”

His crew let him continue to try to revive you, even though they all knew it was a fruitless endeavor. Finally, after three hours, he collapsed.

His crew rarely saw him shed a tear, but today he sobbed into your chest with more emotion than he had ever shown. And he was never really the same afterwards, either.

Ace

“I can fix him!” you screamed, running out towards the brothers.

“Like hell,” Marco yelled, grabbing your wrist to hold you back. “It’s too bad. You know that. You can’t save him.”

“I can,” you sobbed. “I have to. I have to!”

You pulled yourself out of Marco’s grip, and dashed towards Luffy.

“Ace…” Luffy breathed out. “You can’t die.”

“He won’t,” you assured him, sitting down next to him. Ace’s wound looked even worse from here, and you could feel bile rising in your mouth. You had to resist the urge to vomit. You had work to do.

“Luffy, stay with me, okay? I need you to be ready to take him to safety.”

You were prepared to die for him. You had been for a while. There was no better way to go than saving the man you loved.

“Dont-” Ace sputtered, coughing up blood.

You pressed your lips to his cheek. “I love you, Ace. Keep living for me, okay?”

Those were fitting last words, and so you pulled out some water from your flask and placed your hands over the hole in his chest. It didn’t matter that everyone was watching you while you did this. You were the last of your kind. Your power would die with you.

The pain came instantly, just as it had for Ace. You could feel your insides shredding apart as you used your power to repair him. His heart, his vital organs, that’s what you chose to focus on. The things he couldn’t live without had to be repaired by you. Marco could do the rest when they were safe.

You could feel Ace fighting you, desperate to get away from your grip, but you held on tight, even as your vision became dark and blurry, even as you felt consciousness beginning to slip away, you would continue healing him until the end.

What was only a few seconds felt like eternity, and Ace felt his body slowly begin to heal. He could breathe again.

“Luffy,” he mumbled. “Get her off of me.”

“Ace. Your wound.” Luffy pulled back to look at Ace. “It’s closing up.”

“She’s dying,” Ace sobbed, trying to push your limp body off of him.

“I’ll be damned,” Akainu said, staring down at your work. “I thought that power was just a myth.”

“Luffy, take her away. Now!” Ace yelled, pushing you towards his little brother.

“A shame her sacrifice will amount to nothing, though,” Akainu said from behind. Ace felt volcanic heat stir up behind him again. Another strike from Akainu was coming, but Ace was paralyzed with grief.

Jinbe jumped in front of Ace and held off the attack. “Ace, my friend. You have been given another chance. You mustn't lose it now!”

Luffy helped Ace to his feet, still staring at his chest where a hole had once been. It wasn’t completely healed, but Ace was moving. That’s all that mattered.

“We can’t leave her,” Ace said, tears flooding out of her eyes. “Luffy, we can’t-”

Ace’s body racked with a fit of coughs, and Luffy stopped. “Ace! Are you okay?! Does it hurt?!”

“We need to go get her,” Ace said, starting to turn back. But Luffy kept propelling him forward.

His crewmates were cheering them on, not realizing what your healing had cost you. “If we get you to the ship, we win! Ace! Come on!”

But Ace kept fighting Luffy, trying to go back for you. He couldn’t leave you like this. You had sacrificed everything and now you were lying there in the dirt under Akainu. It wasn’t fair. This was his fault.

“I’ll get her,” Marco yelled. “Keep going, Ace. You need to go! Pops put everything on the line for you! Don’t waste it now!”

When they finally made it back to the ship, Ace’s eyes scoured the horizon, waiting for Marco to return with you. People were celebrating their victory, but Ace felt like he was going to throw up.

Finally he saw Marco, carrying your too limp body. As Marco landed on the deck, Ace could see tears in his eyes.

“No,” Ace whimpered. “No. No! NO! Marco, fix her!”

Everyone stopped to watch the scene unfold. Even Luffy was at a loss for words.

Marco laid your body down on the deck and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I can’t fix her, Ace. She’s gone.”

“No she’s not! You just didn’t try hard enough!” Ace bent down next to you, grabbing your body and shaking it. “Wake up, Y/N! Wake up! You told me you wouldn’t do this.”

Everyone watched as Ace collapsed against you, violently sobbing into your chest. He slammed his hands against the deck, cursing the world and cursing himself, screaming loud enough for everyone to hear.

Marco waited a few minutes before intervening. “Ace,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “You need to stop.”

“I love you,” Ace sobbed into your chest, beating against the deck. His hands were starting to get bloody from the repetitive punching. “Please stay with me.”

“Ace,” Marco tried again. “If you keep acting like this, your wound will reopen.”

“Let me die, then,” Ace cried.

“Like hell!” Marco yelled, infuriated with his fellow commander. “You will NOT make her sacrifice and everyone else's sacrifice be in vain! I won’t let you!”

“You don’t get it, Marco!” Ace yelled. He tried to stand, and staggered a bit in the process. “She was the only thing worth living for.”

“And now you have to live with the fact that your disobedience killed her,” Marco’s words were harsh, but true. “But you still have to live! Or else you’d be spitting in her face!”

Ace screamed out in rage and charged towards Marco. However, Ace’s injury made him much slower than usual, and Marco ducked beneath the attack and jumped behind him.

Ace felt a small pinch in the back of his neck, and the world started to go dark. “I won’t let you kill yourself. She would never forgive me,” Marco whispered, catching Ace as he lost his footing.

As Ace plunged into darkness, all he wanted was to see you one more time. To apologize for all the trouble he caused.

1K notes · View notes

allgoodnamesrgoneee · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I was the anonymous requester who you said your new fic coming out forever my heart sounds like! If possible could you make it separate so I’ll have more to read! Also if you could add Kylian being her first everything like even kiss!

This is the longest fic I've written up to date and I'm beat. Sorry it came out a little later than I planned.

Love Heals

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — request: «Ok please make this long again but maybe something with Kylian where reader had a really hard life working full time sometimes overtime and multiple jobs with an abusive family while going to school like her sister would bully her, mom abuse her and dad was neglectful and her jobs were terrible too like she has burns from working fast food and him being emotional and shocked because she is so happy all the time and her finally deciding to tell him after a long time like something like a fight or something like he proposes to her makes her tell him and how she is scared to trust him and tells him shes looking to get married»

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 11.k

Warnings! ANGST!! Abuse, abusive family, injury, violence, burns, referencing to past hurts, depictions of violence, insecurities, anxiety, trauma, self-conscious reader, anxious reader FLUFF! lots of comfort, protective Kylian, he would kill for you, mild smut at the end, unprotected sex, soft sex, soft Kylian

The restaurant was busier than usual tonight.

Every table seemed to fill as quickly as it was cleared, and you found yourself darting between the kitchen and the dining area without a moment to catch your breath. The clatter of dishes and the murmur of voices blended into a chaotic symphony around you.

The only thing you could do to get the orders done on time was to run. Your feet were aching in pain, you were so tired you felt like collapsing to the ground. Your hands were shaking, you were holding three plates in one hand.

Despite the ache in your legs and the fatigue weighing down your shoulders, you pushed forward. You had to.

This is how your typical day went— gruesome, tiring, a relentless cycle of exhaustion that demanded everything you had to give.

As you hurried past a table, a customer’s voice cut through the chaos, harsh and dismissive.

“Hey!” the man shouted, “You messed up my order again.”

You froze, the plates of food suddenly too heavy to hold. Your heart sank as you turned around to face the angry customer. You immediately recognized him. Sam.

He had come to the restaurant a few weeks ago and tried to flirt with you. You turned him down, and ever since, he had made it his mission to make your life a living hell.

He comes in every day and just harasses you, knowing you can't really do anything about him because he's a customer.

You're usually good at handling the situation, most of the time just letting him run his mouth. Mostly just insults and catcalls. You endure it. But he's been ordering drinks all night, and the restaurant is packed.

Using all the patience you could muster, you took a deep breath and made your way to him. “I apologize, sir. What seems to be the problem?”

“I said you messed up my order, bitch,” he growled.

You flinched at his tone, feeling the familiar sting of shame. But you kept your composure. “I apologize for the inconvenience. May I know what you ordered so that I can correct the problem?”

Before you could take note of his order, he stood up. “Fuck you,” he sneered. He threw the glass of liquid at you. The strong alcoholic smell tells you that it's whiskey.

The cool beverage soaked your clothes, a stark contrast to the warmth of the burns you received earlier from the grill. You didn’t even notice the pain anymore, the stinging sensation was normal now.

“Get m-me a new... new drink!” he continued. His voice grew louder, and you could hear his slurred words. Drunk.

You could feel eyes on you, but you tried not to look anywhere. The customers and the waiters were all staring. You felt the hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

"Excuse me." You heard a man's voice from the table next to Sam's. You looked over. A tall, handsome man was looking at you with concern.

He was seated with a group of friends, all of whom had stopped their conversation to watch the unfolding scene. The man stood up, his presence commanding immediate attention.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked, his voice calm yet firm. His eyes, kind yet resolute, met yours for a brief moment before shifting to Sam.

Sam sneered at the newcomer. "This doesn't concern you," he slurred, his words barely coherent. "This is between me and her."

The man stepped closer, his posture unyielding, his body shielding you from Sam's view. For some reason, you felt safe with him here. "It does concern me. You're being abusive, and that's not acceptable."

Sam's face twisted in anger. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he spat, trying to push the man away. But the man didn't budge.

With a calm yet authoritative voice, the unnamed man responded, "I'm someone who won't stand by and let you treat her like this." His tone was steady, unwavering, and it seemed to cut through the drunken haze clouding Sam's mind.

Sam glared at him, his drunken bravado faltering. "Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?" he challenged, though his voice wavered slightly.

The man glanced around, noticing the restaurant manager approaching with what seemed to be a concerned look. But you knew better.

Richard’s never cared for your well-being or any of his employees, for that matter. He was a money-hungry man who only cared about the restaurant’s reputation and how much money we were bringing in.

Working for him was a nightmare, but you had no choice. This was the highest-paying job you had and the only reason why you could pay your tuition for the semester.

He approached quickly, his eyes flicking between Sam and the newcomer, assessing the situation.

“Is everything alright here?” Richard asked, his voice tight. His eyes were piecing daggers at your form, and you subconsciously cowarded into the man standing next to you.

“Actually, it’s not,” the man said, turning to Richard. “This customer has been harassing your staff. It needs to stop.”

Richard’s expression hardened, though he managed a tight smile. “I see. I’ll handle it from here.” He glanced at you, a warning in his eyes, before turning to Sam. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Sam’s drunken rage flared again. “I’m not going anywhere! I’m a paying customer!” He shoved his chair back, nearly toppling it over, and lunged at Richard. But before he could do any more damage, the stranger intervened, stepping between them with practiced ease.

“Let’s not make this any worse,” the man said calmly, placing a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’ve had too much to drink. It’s time to go.” As he said that, two men from the table he was previously sat at stood up to join him, their presence reinforcing his authority. Sam looked between the three men, his drunken bravado quickly dissipating into defeat.

Richard, seizing the moment, nodded curtly. "I'll call you a cab," he said, signaling to one of the other waitstaff to assist. Sam, now subdued, allowed himself to be led away, grumbling under his breath but offering no further resistance.

The tension in the room slowly dissipated, and you felt your shoulders sag with relief while your stomach turned with dread. Richard was going to make you pay for this. For losing a customer. For causing a scene.

The tall, handsome man turned back to you, his expression softening. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his eyes scanning your soaked clothes and the fatigue etched on your face.

You nodded, though your voice betrayed you with a slight quiver. "Yes, thank you. I’m sorry you had to get involved."

He shook his head, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Don't be. No one should have to deal with that alone. I'm Kylian."

"Y/N," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Kylian said warmly, his eyes never leaving yours. He was about to say something else when Richard interrupted.

"Y/N I need to speak with you, now," Richard barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Kylian must've seen the fear in your eyes because he stepped closer to you, almost shielding you from Richard. Your heart fluttered at his gesture but you knew what would happen if you didn't listen.

You reached out a shaky hand and tapped him on the shoulder, your eyes silently communicating that you were okay. He stared at you for a second analyzing your features before nodding slightly and stepping out of the way, making you face Richard again.

Richard’s eyes narrowed at the interaction, wondering How you knew Kylian Mbappé. But decided not to say anything. He looked at you. "Go change your clothes. Meet me in my office in 10 minutes."

You nodded looking at Kylian one more time before scurrying away.

****

Kylian watched you leave, a sense of unease settling in his stomach. Something about you tugged at his heart, drawing him in.

He had first noticed you when he came in. You were a small, maybe 5'0. Your hair was dark, but he could tell it was dyed, your natural color peeking from the roots. You had soft eyes and full lips that seemed to curve into a smile every time you took an order. Your uniform hung loose on you, he could tell you were thin, but not in a healthy way. He had to do a double-take when he saw your name tag.

Y/N.

For some reason, it causes butterflies to erupt in his stomach. He decided then that before the night ended, he would talk to you. Charm you. Get your number.

He spent the whole night watching you as you bustled around the restaurant, taking orders and delivering food with a grace that belied the chaos that seemed to surround you.

And then he saw Sam. The way he talked to you, the way he treated you, made Kylian's blood boil. He had been about to intervene when you came over to Sam’s table, and it was then that he noticed your arm.

Peaking just out of your sleeve was what looked like a burn. It was red, fresh. The sight made his heart clench. What happened to you? Did it hurt?

When Sam started yelling at you, Kylian knew he couldn't stay seated anymore. He stood up and had to fight the urge to punch Sam in the face when he threw a drink at you.

The restaurant bustled around Kylian as he watched you hurry away. Without thinking, his feet moved to follow you, but Hakimi caught his arm. "Hey, where are you going?"

"I just... I need to make sure she's okay," Kylian said, his voice filled with concern.

His friend raised an eyebrow but nodded, letting go of his arm. The look on Kylian's face was unlike anything he had ever seen. The pure concern in his eyes was so heavy that it took him back. He had never seen such desperation in the man. All to follow you.

Kylian nodded and made his way towards the back of the restaurant, following the path you had taken.

Meanwhile, in the small staff restroom, you stood in front of the mirror, trying to steady your breathing. The whiskey-soaked uniform clung to your skin, and the cold, damp fabric made you shiver. But the chill didn’t compare to the icy fear that gripped your heart.

Richard was going to be furious. You had to figure out how to calm him down before it was too late. You pulled off your uniform and began to change, your hands shaking as you tried to button up your spare shirt. You were so tired. Your body felt like a weight was pressing down on it, making it impossible to move.

A knock at the door startled you out of your reverie. “Hello, are you okay? Do you need any help?” a deep voice called out.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you realized it was Kylian. You quickly finished changing and opened the door, revealing him standing there, concern etched on his face. His eyes softened as he took in your appearance, still damp from the spilled drink but now clad in fresh clothes.

"Hey," he said gently, eyes scanning your figure for injuries. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

You managed a small, grateful smile, touched by his genuine concern. "Thank you, I'm okay," you replied softly, though you couldn't hide the lingering unease in your eyes.

He nodded, his expression serious yet comforting. "Is there anything I can do?" Kylian asked, his tone sincere.

Before you could respond, a sharp voice interrupted from behind him. "Y/N, my office. Now." It was Richard, his impatience palpable.

You glanced nervously at Kylian, who met your gaze with a look you couldn't decipher. You forced a weak smile before hurrying past him towards Richard's office.

****

Kylian stood rooted to the spot, watching you disappear down the hallway. His stomach twisted with worry. But then he heard Richard’s voice, his words barely concealed by the thin office door. Kylian felt a knot of anger in his chest as he heard Richard berate you.

You were fired.

Kylian clenched his fists, barely controlling the urge to barge in and set Richard straight. But he knew that would only make things worse for you.

As soon as he saw you leave Richard’s office, he made his way over to you. “Are you okay,” he repeated. It's all he seemed to ask you since you met him. It made your heart flutter how much he cared. Even if he didn't know you.

You looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. He felt his chest clench with regret. If he had known Richard was going to fire you, he would've never left you alone. “yeah, I'm fine, ” you sniffled, forcing a smile.

He reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. Your skin was soft, delicate. You froze at his touch and he quickly removed his hand.

Contrôle toi, mon vieux, c'est pas le temps. He scolded himself.

The air became awkward as you stared at each other. His fingers itched to touch you again. He cleared his throat breaking the silence. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, his voice low. You shook your head.

“No, I’ll be okay.”

Kylian sighed. He couldn't leave you like this. “Can I at least drive you home?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

You hesitated, your instincts telling you to refuse, but the exhaustion in your body won you over. "I... I guess that would be okay," you murmured.

Kylian's face brightened with relief. "Great. Let me just grab my things."

As he walked back to his table to collect his belongings, you took a moment to steady yourself. Tonight had been draining, emotionally and physically, and the idea of spending a few more moments with him was strangely comforting.

You didn't know what to make of Kylian's attention, but right now, you would enjoy every bit you could get.

Kylian returned quickly, his friends giving him knowing looks as he walked away. He led you to the door, a protective hand gently guiding you out of the crowded restaurant.

****

The car ride was quiet, with the only sound being the soft hum of the music playing from the speakers. You couldn't help but stare at Kylian as he drove.

He was handsome. Tall and lean. His skin was dark, a soft brown. His eyes were brown, the deepest you had ever seen. He had nice lips and a sharp jawline.

He looked back at you every now and then, checking that you were still there. The gesture made a warmth bloom in your chest.

Never had anyone stood up for you the way he had. A complete stranger at that. Even though you had just met, and it was stupid of you to get into a stranger's car and let him drive you home. You had never felt more safe than in this moment. With him. Beside him.

You wanted him to keep driving, take you far away from everything.

The halt of the car jolted you out of your trance. Kylian looked at you, his eyes soft. "We're here," he said. "Is this your house?"

You nodded, not wanting to get out.

Kylian got out of the car and walked around to open the door for you. He took your hand, helping you out, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You didn't want him to let go. "Thank you for everything," you said softly, shyly glancing up at him.

He smiled, his lips curving up and his eyes twinkling. "Anytime Y/N."

And with that, you turned around and made your way to the house.

****

Kylian watched as you disappeared behind the front door. His chest felt heavy, his thoughts consumed by you. He missed you already.

He had never felt this way about someone before. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He felt a strange pull towards you, a feeling he couldn’t explain. All he knew was he wanted to spend more time with you. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to hold you.

Kylian made his way back into his car, starting the engine and pulling away from your house. His mind was whirling with thoughts of you.

Just as he pulled into his driveway he remembered something. He never got your number.

****

It was weeks before you would see him again.

This time at the bookstore you worked at. He walked in with a teenager by his side. And judging by the uncanny resemblance between the two, you could tell they were brothers.

You felt your stomach drop at the sight of him. Before he could notice you, you quickly fixed the scarf around your neck where your father's handprint lay fresh and prayed to God your concealer was thick enough to mask the bruise on your face.

You busied yourself behind the counter, stealing glances when you could. They were in the school supplies section, browsing. His brother was animatedly discussing something with him, his gestures mirroring Kylian's in a way that was both heartwarming and bittersweet for you.

You smoothed your scarf nervously, a habit that now concealed more than just your attire, hiding the marks you hoped no one would notice.

As they approached the checkout, Kylian looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the world seemed to pause.

Your throat felt dry and your knees grew weak. The stare he was giving you was an intense one. One that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You stayed like that for a while. Just staring at each other. His brother stood beside him oblivious to the unspoken exchange, chattering on excitedly.

Then he smiled. It was a gentle smile, one that made you feel warm. He began to walk towards you leaving his brother behind to do more browsing and approached the counter. Your heart pounded in your chest and your mouth felt dry.

"Hi," he said, his voice soft. His eyes searched yours, looking for something. But you didn't know what.

"Hi," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. He leaned forward on the counter, his body angling towards you in a way that felt like a secret. You felt his scent surround you. It was spicy and musky. Your chest fluttered in response.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he said, his voice filled with a longing. Your heart skipped a beat. The tone of his voice, the way he was looking at you. It was almost overwhelming. Never had someone regarded you with such care, such intent.

You felt like a flower being basked in the warm sunlight for the first time.

You managed a small smile. "Yeah, me too," you said, your voice small.

He smiled back. Your stomach clenched. You love his smile. Love the way it made you feel safe, wanted.

He looked like he was about to say something when his brother interrupted him, holding a stack of supplies. "Kylian, come pay for this," his brother said. Kylian nodded, reaching for his wallet.

As he began to unload the stuff from his brother's arms onto the counter, his gaze locked with yours again. He didn't speak but instead held your eyes with an intensity you couldn't understand.

You managed to break the contact by looking down and started to ring up the items.

When you were done and Kylian had paid, his brother thanked you. His smile was sweet and genuine. Kylian looked at you, his eyes searching yours.

You felt like he was trying to say something, but he didn't speak. Instead, he reached out and took one of your hands in his. His palm was warm. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the contact.

"Can I have your number?" he asked, his voice filled with hope. You felt a warmth spread in your chest at his words.

You froze at his words. No one had ever asked you for your number before. At least, no boy.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. The idea of giving out your number both excited and terrified you. Did you really want to be his friend? As your stepmother always said you tend to bring more harm than good into people's life.

And Kylian was such a good person.

Could you really burden him like that? Suffocate him with your baggage. You weren't meant to be loved. Clearly. After all even your own father didn't want you. Why would he?

You knew that once he got to know the truth about you he would run for the hills. You didn't want to get attached to him only for him to leave you. Heck, you could already feel yourself tearing up at the thought.

But then, looking into Kylian's earnest eyes, you saw something different. Something you both desperately craved. The need to be loved. To be seen.

Slowly, you nodded, your heart racing. "Okay," you managed to say, your voice barely audible but filled with a newfound resolve.

Relief washed over Kylian's face, followed by a soft smile that lit up his features. He's so beautiful, you thought. He handed you his phone, the screen already lit up with the phone app open. With trembling fingers, you entered your number, feeling nerves twisting in your guts.

"Thank you," he said sincerely as he took back his phone, typing a quick message to ensure your number was saved. Your phone pinged beside you, the screen lighting up with the message 'Hi.' from an unknown number. You couldn't help but smile.

Unbeknownst to you, Kylian saw it. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever met. And he's met a lot of women. It was no secret to the world that Kylian Mbappé was a heartthrob, sought after by many.

But in that quiet moment at the bookstore counter, he gave himself to you. Mind, soul, and hopefully if all goes according to his plan, body.

He was yours.

He emptied out the space in his heart and placed you there, a refuge from the stormy world you knew too well. It scared him what he was ready to do for you. After all, he didn't even know you.

And yet, in that instant, everything felt right. His instincts, usually so finely tuned on the field, told him that you were worth the risk.

As he glanced at his brother, who was waiting impatiently by the door, Kylian knew he had to go, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave just yet.

"I have to run," he said reluctantly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I really want to talk to you more. Can we meet sometime?"

His question once again made you hesitate. But looking into his soft brown eyes made you melt. So you decided right then that you would enjoy his company for as long as he wanted you and would mourn his loss when he would eventually leave.

You nodded, unable to hide the smile that crept across your face. "Sure," you managed to say, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness.

"Great," he replied, his smile widening. "I'll text you."

With that, he squeezed your hand gently before turning to leave with his brother, who was now calling him urgently. You watched them walk away, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you—hope, disbelief, and a hint of fear.

As the door closed behind them, you leaned back against the counter, replaying the brief encounter in your mind. Could this be real? Was this some sick prank your stepsister was playing on you?

The last thought wasn't far-fetched considering all the other horrible things she had done to you. But for once you hope with all your might that it wasn't.

You glanced at your phone, seeing his message still displayed. The word "Hi." seemed to hold so much promise.

For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could be happy.

****

The weeks that followed were amazing.

Every time your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian, your heart skipped a beat. He was surprisingly persistent, often texting just to check in, share something funny, or ask about your day. Each conversation felt like a lifeline, a small escape from the turmoil of your daily life.

It felt good to have someone care.

You met Kylian a few more times after that encounter at the bookstore.

He would invite you to charming little places tucked away in the quieter parts of the city, where the two of you could talk for hours without interruption. Where you could forget the bad shit in your life and simply enjoy his company.

Kylian was easy to talk to, his presence soothing and his laughter infectious. He listened with genuine interest when you spoke, his eyes never leaving yours as if you were the girl person in the world. The only thing that mattered.

He introduced you to a side of life you had never known—A life you had only ever dreamed about. A complete contrast to the coldness you were used to. A glimpse of what could be if you dared to dream.

But as much as light Kylian brought into your life, doubts gnawed at you.

How long until he left you? How long until he saw the bruises you couldn’t hide? The pain you couldn't mask?

You feared the day he would look at you with pity or, worse, regret. Each time he texted or called, a small part of you braced for disappointment.

But that day never came.

Instead, he surprised you. Time and time again. Like right now.

You stood outside the bookstore, your breath fogging up in the cool evening air. Kylian had texted you earlier, asking if you could meet him after your shift.

His messages were usually funny and easygoing, but this one had a sort of seriousness that made you nervous.

As you waited, you replayed last night. He had Facetimed you late into the night, just to chat about nothing and everything. Like you usually did, but something was different that time. He was flirting with you.

At first, you thought it was just your imagination. How could Kylian Mbappé possibly have a crush on you? But as the night wore on and the playful glint in his eyes and compliments got more and more obvious, you couldn't deny it anymore.

Not with the way he looked at you through the screen. The way his voice softened when he said your name—it all pointed to one undeniable truth.

One you were too afraid to face.

"Hey," a familiar voice called out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You turned to see Kylian's head peeking out of his G-Wagon, waving at you. His smile was as bright as ever, making your heart race.

"Hey," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach. You walked over quickly, excited.

As you approached the car, he opened the passenger door for you, always the gentleman. "Hop in," he said, his tone cheerful but with an undertone of something more serious.

You settled into the seat, the warmth of the car contrasting to the chilly evening outside. Kylian glanced at you, his eyes lingering on your face a moment longer than usual. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softening.

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a bit tired from work."

He seemed to accept your answer, though his eyes still held a hint of concern. "I thought we could hang out at my place," he said, starting the car.

Your heart skipped a beat.

"Sure," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flurry of emotions within you. You had never been to his place. The idea of spending time at his place felt both thrilling and intimidating.

The drive was filled with easy conversation, Kylian telling you about his day at training and a funny story about Hakimi and Ousmane. You laughed at his stories, feeling more at ease with each passing minute.

It wasn't long before you arrived at his apartment, marveling at the modern building towering above you. Kylian led you inside, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, a touch that made your skin tingle.

His place was spacious and elegant, filled with personal touches that made it feel warm and inviting. You noticed photographs of his family, friends, and teammates scattered around, giving you an intimate glimpse into his life.

"Make yourself at home," he said, smiling as he gestured to the living room. "Want something to drink? Water, juice, maybe some tea?"

"Tea please," you replied, settling onto the large plush couch. You watched as he moved to the kitchen, his movements fluid and graceful. It was hard to believe that he was real sometimes. You felt lucky that you got to know him like this. See him like this.

When he returned with two steaming mugs, you accepted yours gratefully, wrapping your hands around it for warmth. He sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat from his body.

"So," he began, his tone casual but his eyes serious. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

Oh, no.

Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety creeping in. Was this it? Was this him leaving you? Telling you he didn't want to be friends with you anymore?

But instead of delivering bad news, Kylian's expression softened, his gaze gentle yet determined. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you," he said sincerely, his voice quiet in the cozy ambiance of his living room. "And I want to be honest with you."

You held your breath, unsure of where his words would lead.

"I like you," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "More than just as a friend."

Your heart pounded in your chest, disbelief evident on your face. What?

"I've been thinking a lot about us," he confessed, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "About you. And every time I do, I realize how much I care about you. Want to be with you." He reached out, gently holding your hands in his large ones.

Your mind reeled, trying to process his words. Did he really mean what he was saying? Or was this all some cruel joke?

You glanced at him, your eyes meeting his, searching for any hint of it being a lie. But all you saw was sincerity. The same sincerity you had come to know from him.

He truly believed what he was saying. But how?

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your chest fluttered at the thought of him liking you romantically.

"I mean I want to be with you," he said simply, his eyes holding yours. "As your boyfriend if that's something you want too."

Your heart pounded harder at his words, and you felt a rush of emotions flood through you—surprise, joy, and a lingering trace of fear. The idea of someone like Kylian wanting to be with you romantically seemed almost too good to be true.

"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to steady it. You looked down at your hands, unsure of how to process your feelings.

Kylian squeezed your hands gently, his touch reassuring. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "Take your time. I just wanted you to know how I feel."

His words were comforting, his presence grounding. You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze once more. "I... I like you too," you confessed, "But... I don't know if you should." Your voice was shaky as you whispered the words.

Kylian's brows furrowed at your words.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. His concern was evident in his eyes, but there was also a determination that showed he would be easily dissuaded.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking. "Because... because I'm not... I'm not who you think I am," you admitted quietly, feeling vulnerable. "There are things about me... things I haven't told you."

Kylian listened attentively, his expression softening as he waited for you to continue. "I have a lot of baggage," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "And... and sometimes things happen that... that I can't control." You glanced down, unable to meet his gaze. "I don't want to burden you with my problems."

He was silent for a moment, processing your words. When he spoke again, his voice was steady, soft, loving. "You're not a burden," he said firmly, lifting your chin gently so you had to meet his gaze. The intensity in them made your heart beat faster. "Whatever you've been through, whatever you're facing... you don't have to face it alone." His eyes searched yours. "I care about you," he continued softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "And I want to be there for you, in whatever way you'll let me."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "But... what if... what if you find out things about me and you..." Your voice broke, the fear of rejection clawing at your heart. You couldn't lose him. Not with how well he treats you. How he makes you feel. You need him.

Kylian's expression softened even more, his eyes desperately trying to convey the deep affection he felt for you. "I'm not going anywhere," he said gently, his words filled with conviction. "I want to know all of you, Y/N. The good, the bad, everything." He paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words. "If you'll let me."

You searched his eyes, finding only sincerity. You were so used to people lying to you that you had become a master at sniffing it out. But his eyes held no lie. Only truth. A truth that made your heart explode.

Maybe, just maybe, this could be real. A chance at happiness you never thought possible.

"I... I want to try," you said finally, your voice wavering. You cleared your throat and repeated, "I want to be with you."

A smile spread across Kylian's face at your words. Yes, he thought doing a little victory dance in his head. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands still gently holding yours. "Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you for giving us a chance."

The stare between the two of you grew heavy, a longing for something more.

As if sensing your thoughts, Kylian's eyes dropped to your lips, his gaze lingering there a moment before moving back to meet your eyes. "May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of his lips on yours. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible but dripping with need.

Without hesitation, Kylian leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like coming home. It was a slow, tender kiss that sent shivers down your spine and made your heart flutter in your chest. Your first kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in him, your hearts beating in tandem.

When the kiss ended, it left you breathless, Kylian smiling against your lips. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. "And I'm never letting you go."

****

The warm air from the heater greeted you as you walked further into your house. You were just coming back from the library after completing a group project that was due next week.

It had gone well, despite the stress the people you were working with brought you.

Your mind wandered briefly to Kylian, as it often did now whenever you found a moment of peace. You guys were official now. And every moment has been nothing but pure bliss.

You finally felt like you were starting to understand what happiness was.

You closed the door behind you sighing with relief, grateful for the warmth after enduring the cold at the bus stop. You missed the first bus and had to wait for the second one in the freezing cold. All you wanted now was to get into bed and text Kylian until you feel asleep.

You were taking off your shoes when you felt it. A hand yanking the back of your hair, pulling your head backward. You tried to scream but a slap silenced you.

"Thought you were smart, didn't you?" your stepmother spat, her voice filled with malice. "Thought you could fool us? You whore!" She let go of your hair, giving you a hard shove. You stumbled backward, landing on your hands and knees.

"So this is why you've been coming back home with that stupid smile on your face every day. You're fucking Kylian Mbappé," she hissed, her eyes blazing with anger.

Your heart sank.

How did she know? Had your stepsister told her? How did they find out?

You had to get out of there or they would...

You scrambled to your feet, ready to run, but a kick in your stomach sent you falling back down. Your stepmother loomed over you, her eyes wild with rage. "You fucking slut!" She kicked you hard in the ribs. "You little whore!" She kicked you again, making you double over in pain. "You will regret ever looking at him," she threatened as she continued to beat you. You were powerless against her kicks and slaps.

She stopped finally, panting. "Get up," she snarled, her voice filled with hate. "Now!"

You struggled to get up, your body screaming in pain. Your stepsister was watching you with hatred in her eyes. She was holding your phone. The same phone that had the lock screen image of you and Kylian from a recent outing. His arm was around your shoulders, both of you laughing at something silly he had said.

The picture had been taken by a fan who had asked to take a photo with Kylian. But she had noticed him put his arm around you, and instead of asking for a selfie, she had snapped a photo of the two of you instead.

It was your favorite picture, something you looked at whenever you needed to be reminded that all of this was real. That you weren't dreaming. That someone like Kylian truly cared for you.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you watched your stepsister throw your phone on the floor, her heel stomping on it.

The screen shattered under her heel.

You wanted to cry, but you were too scared. You had seen the anger in your stepmother's eyes. You knew you would be dead if you cried.

"You'll pay for this," your stepsister sneered, glaring at you with all the hate in the world.

You yelped as your stepmother grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. "You'll learn your place," she snarled, her breath hot against your ear. "And we'll teach you."

A whimper escaped you as she dragged you toward the basement, your stepsister following close behind.

You knew what was coming.

Your heart raced with fear as they dragged you towards the basement, the familiar dread tightening your chest. Each step hurt you as they dragged you down them. They would leave bruises that would last weeks. You know this from experience.

Your mind raced looking for a way out, but finding none. There never was. But for some reason, you held out hope.

The basement door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room that smelled of dampness and decay. This was where they often took their anger out on you, where their punishments lurked in the shadows, waiting to be inflicted.

You trembled as they shoved you forward, the concrete floor cold against your hands and knees.

"Please," you managed to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. But your stepmother's grip on your hair tightened, silencing any further plea. The air thickened as they circled around you. Like vultures. Predators.

And you were the prey.

"You think you're better than us," your stepsister spat, her face contorted with venom. "Fucking him just because he's famous. Pathetic. He doesn't want you anyway, look at you."

You bit back tears, fighting the urge to scream, knowing it would only provoke them further. Her words stung more than the cuts on your body. And your mind started to believe her.

Maybe she was right.

Pain seared through you as another blow landed. In the haze of torment, you closed your eyes, desperately clinging to the memory of Kylian's warmth, his gentle words.

His face, his smile, the way he defended you against the world. You would miss him.

You knew this was the end. You could feel it.

Your body was numb and you were dipping in and out of consciousness, the pain and fear overwhelming. As darkness threatened to consume you, memories of Kylian flooded your mind.

You recalled the first time you met him, how his genuine kindness had shattered the walls around your heart. The quiet moments stolen between you, where he'd hold your hand and promise you a future where no one could hurt you. Leaving sweet kisses on your lips.

You'll miss his eyes the most, you think. Those deep, comforting eyes that always saw through your pain and whispered hope into your soul. Even now, battered and broken, he's all you can think of.

As darkness closed in, you clung to the image of him, willing yourself to survive for him, for the promise of a better tomorrow he represented.

Despite the agony, a faint smile flickered on your lips as you drifted into unconsciousness, imagining his arms around you, shielding you from the cruelty of the world.

****

Kylian was a man of instinct.

It's why he dominated on the field and off. His senses were sharp, attuned to the slightest shifts in energy around him. Never missing the slightest detail.

That's why, when he hadn't heard from you all evening, a knot of unease twisted in his gut.

You had always texted him after getting home, no matter how late. It was a routine for you. And you were a very routine-oriented person, so he knew you didn't forget.

As the hours ticked by without a word from you, Kylian's concern grew into a gnawing worry.

He replayed the events of the day in his mind, recalling your smile as you parted ways after he'd dropped you off at the library. The memory brought a bittersweet smile to his lips, but it did little to ease his growing anxiety.

He had offered to pick you but you had declined. You could tell he was tired from training and you didn't know when you would be done. So you told him you would take the bus instead and promised to call him.

He tried calling you, but each attempt went straight to voicemail. Panic began to creep into his chest, tightening with each unanswered ring. He paced his living room, his mind racing through possibilities, none of them pleasant.

Finally, unable to wait any longer, Kylian made a decision. Grabbing his car keys, he headed out into the freezing night, his thoughts consumed with finding you, needing to ensure you were safe.

The drive to your house felt agonizingly long. His foot pressed harder on the accelerator, urging the car to move faster. When he finally pulled up outside your home, a chilling sense of dread settled over him. Something wasn't right. At all.

He approached the front door cautiously, his heart hammering in his chest. The warm glow of light spilled out from the windows, contrasting sharply with the darkness that seemed to loom over the house. Kylian hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to knock.

No response.

His knocks grew louder, more insistent, but still, no one answered. Frustration and fear surged within him as he contemplated his next move. With a surge of determination, he tried the doorknob, praying it would yield. To his relief and horror, it did.

As he stepped inside, the silence of the house enveloped him like a suffocating blanket. "Y/N? Mrs. Y/L/N?" he called out, his voice echoing through the hallway. No reply came.

The uneasiness deepened with each step he took further into the house. Every room he checked yielded no sign of you or anyone else. That is, until he reached the basement door.

A chill ran down his spine as he slowly opened the creaking door, revealing a scene that shattered his heart and ignited a rage unlike any he had ever felt. There you were, battered and bruised, huddled on the cold concrete floor.

Unconscious.

Kylian's world froze as he took in the sight before him. His heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of you, vulnerable and broken on the basement floor. Rage surged through him, raw and primal, as he knelt beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair from your bruised face.

"Y/N, baby" he whispered, his voice choked with anguish and disbelief. "What have they done to you?"

His hands trembled as he carefully lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. The bruises on your skin, the cuts that marred your once vibrant spirit, filled him with a fury he could barely contain. Tears blurred his vision as he held you close, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance, though he knew you couldn't hear him in your unconscious state.

He doesn't remember when or how he called the ambulance, but he did.

All he could focus on was you, your safety, your well-being. The minutes waiting for help felt like an eternity, his heart pounding with fear.

When the paramedics arrived, Kylian reluctantly let them take you, his hands lingering on yours as they wheeled you away. He couldn't bear to leave your side, but he knew he had to. He had justice to seek for what had been done to you.

He would make sure they rot. They would burn for what they did to you.

Hours passed in a blur of interviews, statements, and waiting. Kylian refused to rest, his mind consumed with thoughts of you, praying silently for your recovery. He felt powerless, haunted by the image of your broken form in that basement, unable to protect you when you needed him most.

Finally, a doctor approached him with news. You were stable, physically battered but stable. Your ribs were broken and there were numerous bruises and cuts. Burns covered your arms but the doctor said they were old.

The burns he had seeen the first time he met you.

With each word that exited the doctor's he felt himself get weaker and weaker.

Just what have you been going through? And how had he not seen it? He felt like a horrible boyfriend. He had promised to protect but he failed. He failed you.

Kylian stayed by your side as much as the hospital allowed, holding your hand, talking to you, silently willing you to wake up and tell him that you would be okay.

He had called his mother the first night he stayed at the hospital. He knew he would have to leave you to answer police questions and the only person he trusted you to was her.

She was beside him the second he called. She knew something was wrong. He couldn't hide it anymore.

He had broken down in his mother's arms. Telling her everything.

She listened and didn't interrupt him once. She hugged him tighter, kissed his cheek, and whispered 'I'm proud of you' over and over. Then she sat next to him, waiting for you to wake up.

****

The first thing you felt when you woke up was his hand in yours. You blinked, disoriented, trying to recall what happened, but your mind was hazy and clouded. One of your eyes was swollen shut, making it hard to see clearly.

Pain radiated through your body, each breath sending sharp stabs through your chest. You groaned softly, the sound catching Kylian's attention instantly.

"Y/N," he whispered, there was a tremble to his words. "You're awake."

You turned your head towards him, your good eye focusing on his tear-streaked face. His fingers tightened around yours, as if afraid you might slip away again.

"Kylian..." Your voice was weak, barely more than a rasp, but the relief in his eyes was palpable.

"Shh, don't try to talk," he murmured, gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. "You're safe now. You're in the hospital. Everything's going to be okay."

You tried to nod, but the effort was too much. Instead, you squeezed his hand lightly, a silent acknowledgment of his words. Kylian's gaze never left your face, his eyes filled with love. Anguish.

The weight of your suffering was etched deeply into his features. He wished he could take your pain away. Switch places with you. Shield you. Protect you from all this. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I should have been there. I should have known."

You wanted to reassure him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, but the pain and exhaustion were too overwhelming. Instead, you gave his hand another gentle squeeze, hoping he understood.

Kylian leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if trying to transfer his strength to you. The quiet hum of the hospital room, the distant beeping of machines, and the rhythmic pulse of your heartbeat were the only sounds, grounding him in this moment.

His mother, who had been silently watching from the corner of the room, approached with a soft smile. "She's awake, Kylian. That's a good sign," she whispered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Kylian nodded, though the tightness in his chest didn't ease. He was grateful for his mother's presence. Her calm strength a lifeline in this sea of chaos. She had always been his rock, and now she would be yours. Extending that strength to you.

She turned to you and softly introduced herself, "Hi, Y/N. I'm Fayza, Kylian's mother. You're safe now, darling. We will take care of you. You just make sure you get as much rest as possible."

You managed a faint smile, your eyes tearing up at the warmth and kindness in her eyes. For the first time in your life, you felt the love of a mother.

Her words washed over you like water, drowning you in the security that only a maternal figure can make you feel. The tears that you desperately tried to hold in spilled over, tracing silent paths down your cheeks.

Fayza reached out, gently wiping them away with her palm and you found yourself leaning into her touch. But she didn't seem to mind. The room, despite its clinical sterility, seemed a little less cold with her there.

The days that followed were a blur of medical treatments and police interviews. Kylian stayed by your side.

He was there every moment he could be. Fayza took turns with him, ensuring you were never alone. Bring you food that she made and making sure you have everything you need. Especially love.

The police investigation moved forward, and Kylian was relentless in his pursuit of justice for you. He spent hours with the authorities, providing every detail he could remember, every scrap of evidence he could find. His determination was fueled by the image of you in that basement, a memory that haunted him and drove him forward.

Throughout your recovery, Kylian's teammates and friends offered their support. You were scared to meet them at first, afraid they would hate you for dragging their friend into your mess.

But they loved you. Becoming super overprotective and treating you like a little sister. They visited the hospital often, bringing flowers, cards, food. Anything you wanted.

Physical therapy was the hardest.

Your body was broken, to say the least. Fractured collar bone, multiple broken ribs, a bruised lung, and a concussion that seemed to cloud your thinking.

Everyday was a battle a war within yourself.

Kylian was your constant companion through it all, encouraging you during the grueling sessions, holding your hand when the pain became unbearable.

It was weird at first having someone care for you like that.

But Kylian made it easy.

He learned your routine, anticipated your needs, and cheered your small victories as if they were monumental achievements. His love and patience never wavered, even on your toughest days. He was your anchor.

The worst of it was when he saw your scars for the first time helping you get ready for a bath.

He had been so careful, so gentle, as he helped you undress, but the moment his eyes fell on them, his breath caught in his throat. The sight of them, a cruel testament to the pain you had endured, tore at his heart.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling suddenly exposed, vulnerable under his gaze. Ugly. He was the first guy to see you like this and you hated how this bruised body was all you had to offer. But he didn't mind.

In fact that was the moment he realized he loved you.

His fingers traced the lines of your scars, as if to erase them. To erase the horrible past that caused them. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Every part of you."

You blinked back tears, overwhelmed by his words. "I don't feel strong," you admitted softly, your voice trembling.

Kylian cupped your face gently in his hands, his eyes locked on yours. "You survived," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That's strength, Y/N. You're here, fighting every day. That's what matters. And if you can't be strong, let me be your strength. Let me protect you. Let me love you."

You froze at his last sentence.

He had never said those words to you and neither have you to him. Your heart leaped in your chest at the raw honesty of which he said.

This time you didn't hesitate, didn't ponder.

You'd know for a while now that you loved him. How could you not? When he was the man that you prayed for. Your rock, your refuge, your protector, your lover. You loved every inch of this man and Finally. Finally you could tell him.

"I love you too, Kylian Mbappé."

He held you close that night, placing kisses on your shoulder as he held you from behind whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

****

Two years later...

You stood in front of the window, watching the tranquil view. The girl who reflected in the glass looked nothing like the girl from years ago. Your smile was radiant, your eyes sparkling with a happiness that only true love could bring.

Kylian had proposed to you six months ago, after the trial was over. Your family had been found guilty. Turns out your stepmother and sister were on the run. They thought they killed you that night so they fled, along with your father.

The thought of them being okay with just leaving your corpse to rot in the basement made your stomach turn every time you thought about it.

You shook the thoughts away. you weren't about to let them ruin your day. not anymore.

Your wedding was small. A private ceremony with close friends and family. You had chosen a beautiful vineyard as the setting, overlooking rolling hills and sun-kissed grapevines. The familiar scent of roses and freshly cut grass filled the air, mingling with the laughter of your guests.

The afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows that danced along the paths between rows of vines.

Kylian stood at the end of the aisle, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that still made your heart skip a beat. He wore a classic black tuxedo that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. Looking absolutely amazing.

You really married him.

Ethan walked you down the aisle. The two of you had gotten really close after Kylian had officially introduced you. He considered you family, a big sister. Someone he could come to for advice, which he often did. He was super protective sometimes rivaling Kylian.

Which was saying something.

Ever since Kylian found you in that basement, battered and bruised, he felt this urge to always be by your side. This urgent need. It scared him sometimes, how much he loved you. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

You were his whole world. The love of his life. His last love. The reason his heart beats.

As Ethan placed your hand in Kylian's, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting everyone in a warm, golden light. Kylian looked like he was glowing. You will never forget that view for as long as you live.

Now that you were closer, you realized he was crying. You smiled at your groom, feeling the weight of your love for him in your chest.

Kylian's eyes locked on yours, love pouring out of them. You knew he would love you for all eternity. And you loved him the same. You were home.

"I love you," you whispered softly, looking into his eyes.

Kylian's lips curved into a sweet smile, his voice filled with emotion. "Je t'aime, mon âme."

The officiant pronounced you husband and wife, and Kylian swept you into a passionate kiss, the cheers of your guests fading into the background. In his arms, you felt whole, complete.

And you both knew that no matter what came next, you would face it together. You had found each other in this chaotic world, and nothing else mattered.

The feel of arms wrapping around your waist pull you out of your daydream as soft kisses are placed on your shoulder. You lean back into Kylian's embrace, smiling as his lips travel up your neck.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" he asks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

You turn around, meeting his eyes.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you," you reply honestly. "About how much you've changed my life."

Kylian's arms tighten around you. "You're the one that's changed my life, Y/N. You're my reason for living." He tilts your chin up, capturing your gaze. "And I promise you, mon amour, that I'll love you until the day I die. That I'll make you happy for all eternity. Je t'aime." He seals his promise with a burning kiss.

The type that leaves your skin burning and heat pooling between your thighs.

His arms around you grow tighter as his kiss grows deeper. Soon he's walking you backwards to the bed. You fall on your back with a laugh but it's silenced by another kiss.

He starts to take off his shirt. You can barely think straight at the sight of his abs. Even after two years of having him to yourself you still get weak in the knees. Your panties already damp from that kiss.

His lips start traveling south as he pulls up the shirt you're wearing(his), exposing your body to him. The softness of the bed comforts your back as his heavy form press more into you. You gasp into his wet mouth, feeling his covered hardness press against your thigh.

His hands push up your shirt and massage the softness of your tummy on his way up to your covered breast. He backs from your lips to look at your fluttering eyes. “Can I?” his voice deep with lust and adoration for you, no matter how many times the two of you do this, he’s never lost the habit of asking.

“Always,” you whisper against his swollen lips, pulling him back into your lips. He lifts your shirt over your head and unclasps your bra, rubbing his thumbs over your harding buds. You moan from the contact into his mouth, a soft groan from his throat in response.

“Kylian,” your voice goes up an octave from the fire of his touches.

“Trésor,” he responds, kissing down your chin to your neck, placing soft kisses into your supple skin. “Je t'aime.”

His fingers slip down to the hem of your panties, pulling them off in one quick motion. He kisses down your belly, placing light kisses all the way down to your inner thigh. You whine, spreading your thighs in invitation.

“Patience, my love,” he chuckles, his breath fanning over your covered heated core. “I want to make you come on my tongue.”

Your eyes flutter close at his words.

He tugs your jeans and underwear off, discarding them somewhere in the spacious hotel room.

His grip is tight on your thighs as he gets down so he's at eye level with your cunt. He groans at the sight, wet and inviting.

A treat.

He places a soft kiss on the folds before taking in as much of you as he can into his mouth. He's good, really good. Your body arches and twitches with every moan ripped from your throat.

He's messy too, with loud slurping and quick inhales mixed with groaning coming from between your legs. You get louder as a coil begins to tighten in your gut, feeling his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it feverishly.

"You taste so fucking good baby. Mhm, love this pussy. Love you." He whispers against your folds. The vibrations send sparks flying throughout your whole body. You can feel yourself getting closer.

A white heat floods your senses as the coil snaps, reaching your toes as you spasm. Kylian drinks up every drop, getting drunk on your taste, chuckling as you push against his head to get him away.

He sits up, chin glistening with your arousal eyes locked on yours, and wipes the excess off with the back of his hand, smirking down at you with lust-blown eyes. “You’re so fucking pretty like this, mon coeur,” He leans down and kisses your neck, nibbling on your skin, making you gasp and whimper.

“Kylian,” you whimper as he presses your leg against your chest. His smile flatters once again, the indents of his nails on your skin now noticeable. He hovers over you, his body covering yours, your small frame drowning in him.

His hand trails down and your eyes follow. He wasn’t small by any means of the word, very much the opposite. Girthy, long, and beautiful. You love every inch of him.

You place your hand against his jaw, bringing his attention to your face. Flushed, teary-eyed, lips puffy and bruised. “Please, I need you,” you whisper, voice already showing signs of another orgasm. Just the thought of him inside you was enough.

He leans down and kisses your nose, pressing his forehead against yours. And with a nod, his weeping tip pushes past your folds and is embraced by soft, clingy gummy walls.

He groans at the feeling, kissing away the tears of pure pleasure that break from your lashes at the intrusion. “You're so tight. Feels so good. Putain,” he whispers into your ear, holding you close as he pushes in. His towering form shadows the lights from your eyes, the difference in size making your head dizzy.

He lets out a startled moan as his hips slam into yours, listening to your guttural moans. “Merde, breathe, breathe baby,” he coos, massaging the tensed muscles of your stomach and hips.

You’re not a virgin by any means but with him, it always feels like the first time. It could have been his size, it could have been that he was the only man to have you. Or maybe, it was because this connection meant more than sex.

You're enveloped in his love. This is otherworldly. Nothing could ever make you feel like this. Feel this good. Nothing. No one.

You giggle and that giggle turns into a laugh, Kylian staring confused, eyebrow-raising.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh but I’m just so in love with you,” You smile, rubbing his arms and pulling him closer. And you mean that with every fiber of your being. You never thought you'd be here. In the arms of the man you love. The man who loves you. It's bliss.

“I love you,” you say again to his shocked face, nothing but the truth in your eyes. You wiggle your leg out from under him and wrap them around his waist, heels tapping his toned ass. Kylian shivers before engulfing you in his embrace, tucking his face into your hair.

“Say it again,” he whispers, rocking his hips into you.

“I love you,” you groan, bliss shooting up your spine. His pace was slow, deep.

“Again,” he hisses, you said it again and again and again, with each time his thrust increases. His breathing is shallow and the wet sounds of your bodies echo through the room. Your poor neighbors. “I love you,” he chokes out through his pants and moans.

The heat of his body invades yours and you feel like you're melting into each other. Sweat from his chest drips onto your lashes and you blink it out, moans bouncing off the walls as his pace quickens, more forceful, slamming into that spot deep inside of you.

“Ohmygod,” you squeal, “Kylian–I-” he slams his lips into yours swallowing all of your sounds. His voice pitches up as his moans increase, breathing heavily onto your face.

His pretty face scrunches up as a loud grunt rips from his mouth, the warmth being dumped inside of you sending you over, clamping down on him harder, gaining a wince from him.

He places his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged as he stares into your eyes before collapsing onto you, spent and satisfied. His weight comforting, grounding.

You lay there for a while, you rubbing his back as he places kisses on your neck and whispers praises in your ear.

And to think that you would have this forever, have him forever. The thought brings a smile to your lips and you kiss his shoulder.

This man was your everything. your love, your protector, your soulmate. you were his world, his heart beating only for you. He healed you with his love.

Your Kylian.

-Bianca🌻

#footballer x reader #football #kylian fanfic #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian mbappe #kylianmbappé

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widowmaxff · 11 months ago

Text

you don't know what you got until it's gone (PART ONE)

pairings: natasha romanoff × fem!reader

warnings: angst, sad ending (in this one)

-> part two!

When you arrived at your shared apartment that night - after your long shift at work - you had a bright hope in your eyes that maybe your girlfriend was there, waiting for you to come home, you always did that for her. But of course she wasn't there again like she had been for the past few months. Natasha is a superhero, obviously she was doing what they do, but she's your girlfriend too, isn't she? So why doesn't she act like it? - you thought.

In the first year of your relationship, Natasha was the most caring person you could ask for. You'd wake up next to her everyday, she would kiss your entire face telling how much she loved you, she would take days off to be next to you all day. And when she had to go to missions, she would apologize a thousand times saying that she doesn't want to be far from you. Now, she just leave a text to you. 'Went on a mission. Don't know how long it will take.' — she typed the same words everytime, you guess she probably just has the message copied already. There wasn't 'I love you' or 'I miss you' in the message, nothing that would show a little affection for you, was she tired of you?

You were standing in the middle of the living room, looking at the picture in the white wall of you and Natasha at a park near your apartment. That was the last time you and her hang out together. The last time she said she loved you, the last time you remember looking at her beautiful eyes and think 'how did I get so lucky?'. In that time, you wouldn't think your relationship would need a heal to get in just days after that photo.

Now, you just sit in the bed in the dark of your bedroom wondering if it's time. You didn't want to have the talk with her, because you knew she wouldn't know what to say to you. And if she did, maybe you weren't ready to hear what she has to say to you. Natasha could be mean if she wanted too, so mean.

Then, you heard the key on the door, your girlfriend was finally home. You took a glance on the digital clock next to your bed - 1:15AM. Natasha was earlier than the other days this week, was she finally going back to your 'normal girlfriend'? The heavy steps of her boots made all your thoughts go away. You took a long breath before she entered the dark room.

"Oh, did I wake you up?" She whispered with frowned eyebrows, seeing your form curled up in your own arms wanting it to be hers, not yours.

You signed before taking your eyes of the floor and look at her. She was still wearing her black suit, you'd always make compliments of it in the past when she'd go to work before you. You remember her face going as red as her hair when you'd say that things to her. "We need to talk."

You didn't miss how her body flinch when you said that words. She knew what you were talking about. "Right now? It's a little late, you know." Natasha almost run over to the closet, open the drawers looking for her some clothes.

"I know. But you always get home later than this all the other days, it won't bother you being awake a little more." You say dryly. She stops before looking at her feet, thinking about the next thing she would say to you, what she needs to say to you?

Natasha turns around. "Okay. What do you want to talk about...?" She tries to stay normal, walking towards you. You still had a cold look on your face, she had never seen you like this.

"Do you still love me?" That caught her of guard. She still loves you. Of course she does, doesn't she? Natasha opens her mouth, being amazed by your question. "Yeah... yes, I do love you, Y/n. I've never stoped loving you."

You bite the inside of your cheek, that was the first time in months that she had said that she loved you, but you are hating the moment. "So why don't you show it?"

"...What do you mean? I don't understand." She shakes her head taking a step closer to you. Natasha cross her arms underneath her breasts, waiting for you to continue what's in your head.

"I know you don't." You obviously knew it. She wasn't around. She wasn't the one who could stay with you on your most heartbreaking days, the one who reassure how important you are, the one who could say that everything was going to be okay. She didn't know it. "You are never around to know if I feel loved by you or not."

"What? Of course I'm around! I still live in here, I lay next to you everyday, Y/n." She has an annoyed face now, like you were taking her precious time and saying stupid things in to her eyes.

"Oh, really? So when was the last time you hugged me? Kissed me? Held my hand? Said you loved me?" You started lift your fingers for every word tha came out of your mouth. "You are never around me, Natasha! You are always working until it's late enough for me to be awake so you can come home! And I know it because Wanda told me that you all are dismissed much more earlier than this." You take a breath waiting for her to continue with the words. You weren't even thinking at that moment, just saying what's in your head.

"Just because I work harder and more than everyone else it doesn't mean that I don't love or care for you!" Her voice starts to be louder by now. "You have to understand that the world doesn't envolves around you, Y/n. That I will stop working because you need me by your side everytime!"

"Well, guess what, Natasha? I actually got used to not have you by my side for the last few months, because you don't try hard to make this relationship works!" You got up at now. She takes a step back making room for you, so you could scream at her annoyed face. "I wait for you everyday! You know you are all I have and the only thing that matters to me. So it would be really nice of you if you do the same for me."

She stays quiet. Looking at your dark eyes by now, seeing how you are really trying to not cry over the argument. Natasha sighs, her hand going to her hair massaging it, trying to think what she could say to you. "Say something, Natasha. Do something!"

"What do you want me to say? That I'm going to quit my job, stop being a super hero just because you want me twenty-four hours per day with you?!" Her hands form fists going to the side of her body, controlling her anger towards you.

"Maybe some days off won't kill you! Risk being by my side, Natasha." You shout at her, her eyes closed hard while her head going low. "Choose something!"

"You are being unbelievable right now."

"Me? Just because I want my girlfriend to spend time with me after months of not caring about our relationship?" Natasha's hands go to her face, massaging her temples trying to be calm, almost being impossible at this point.

She grows before walking past you and heading towards the bedroom door. You only start following her when she is already going down the stairs. Your heart was racing, was she really leaving you? Was her job more important than you? Of course it was. She was years working in there before meeting you. She loved everyone on the team and mostly being a super hero. You weren't the one who could make her risk her job for someone.

Natasha takes her keys before turning around and going to the main door. She still doesn't turned around to see if you were following her, because she knew you were doing it. Your girlfriend opens the door slightly, taking a deep breath. Her head turns to the side with closed eyes, maybe regretting all of it. The argument, not being around you, not being a caring person for you. "Don't stay up waiting for me." And then, she left. You don't know how much time you spend looking at the door, would she come back to you? You didn't know. But you knew you had lost the love of your life, because Natasha was selfish enough to not change for others, even if it means she would lose someone.

#marvel imagine #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha marvel #natasha mcu #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson imagine #natasha x you #black widow x reader #black widow

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worldofkuro · 6 months ago

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Hi, I love your fic and this may seem really random, you don't have you write it at all, but could you please do a self-harm!reader and Alastor comforting her, or just Alastor comforting her after finding her having a mental breakdown alone. I suggest maybe when their teens cause teens often have mental breakdowns (or maybe that was just me). Thanks again if you see this <3

Oh, dear, trust me, I know, even adults. Thank you for loving Painted Smile. It's always a pleasure to hear your thoughts about it! I wanted to warn you, it’s not fluff, this is how Painted Smile!Alastor would react and we all know he doesn’t work like a “normal” being, he is crazy and that is why we love him, I suppose. This is Alastor’s way of saving you from yourself. So please, if you are easily shocked, don’t read it. TW: Self-harm

Not cut for love.

You were in front of the mirror, in the bathroom, looking at yourself with a blade in your hand. You didn’t know when you started crying, but you just wanted this pain to end. You didn’t understand when you felt this never-ending torment crawl in your mind. You had loving parents and friends that were here for you, and yet, sometimes, you feel lonelier than ever.

You didn’t remember the first time you dug the blade in your skin. Maybe it was because you needed to feel something real, something that would ground you. To save you from drowning, you felt the need to hurt your body.

Your body could heal, your mind couldn’t.

That was what you were telling yourself. Every wound would heal itself because your body wanted to live, and you wanted to keep on living while your mind was torturing you with thoughts you felt like you didn’t deserve to have.

When did this agony begin..?

You held back a sob as blood was beginning to slide down your wrist. It was pretty, making you believe you were pretty inside. You didn't want to be a burden. You didn't want people to be condescending because you were feeling sad or anxious. They would send you to a hospital and never look back.

But this time, it wasn’t enough. Even though the blade cut your skin, it wasn’t enough. You began to cut yourself once more, trying to go deeper until this torment inside your mind would stop.

“ Dearest ?”

You turned your head toward the door you were sure you had locked, and there was Alastor, staring at you with his usual smile. You quickly hide your arms behind your back, your whole body shaking.

You felt shame enveloping you in an uncomfortable hug. You opened your mouth, but no words could come out. You didn’t know what was going to happen, and you didn’t want to find out.

“ That’s a lot of blood. May I see?” he held his hand toward you, closing the door after him. You took a step back as he came closer, looking at the mess on the floor. You were shaking, angry with yourself to be found in that situation, angry at Alastor to discover your secret, you just felt.. angry.

“ No. Get out.. I don’t have time for jokes.” You tried to keep your voice strong even though it was only a mere whisper.

“ Who’s joking?” he took the blade from your shaking hands and stared at it before looking at you. He gently took your bloodied wrist on his hand with a soft smile. “ It’s going to scar.”

You looked at him, confused. Why wasn’t he screaming at you, calling you crazy or hysterical ? You let him look at your wounds. You felt like this moment was more intimate than you realized.

“ Do you want to keep going?” he tilted his head toward you, making your eyes widen in shock. He wanted you to continue..? “ Your cut isn’t bad, but this isn’t the best way to cut yourself, my dear.”

“ You… You aren’t angry..?”

“ With you? Of course not. But I’m curious, why are you cutting yourself?” he stroked your bloodied skin while staring at you. As you weakly tried to explain your inner turmoil, Alastor was observing while wiping your tears and your blood from your skin. “ I see. Let’s go kill animals. It helps me when I’m feeling down!” he beamed at you.

“ What? No! Why? They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“ So did you, dearest. And yet, you’re still hurting yourself.” he tilted his head, seeming confused. You closed your mouth at his words, it echoed inside of you, you didn't do anything wrong and yet… “ Next time you want to hurt yourself, wait for me.”

“ Why..? Shouldn’t you try to stop me?”

“ Is it going to make you stop?” he stared at you as you weakly shook your head. This pain was something that you needed now. You didn’t feel like living without it anymore.. Even your body would beg you to do it sometimes…” That’s what I thought. So, my dearest friend, when you want to cut yourself, wait for me, I’ll cut you.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide opened. Did he really say..?

“ Alastor… You..”

“ Like I told you, I know how to cut. Your cuts are messy and dangerous. You could have touched a vein here. So, if you allow me, I’ll cut you.” he pressed the blade slightly against your skin, making you gasp. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know what to think about it and yet.. It was oddly comforting to think Alastor, your friend, your special person, would do that for you.

“ Are we crazy, Alastor?” you whispered.

“ Completely insane, dear!” he laughed as he cleaned your wounds, already preparing bandages. He hummed before kissing your cut. “ One cut, one kiss, what about it?”

You nodded as he slid the blade against your skin. It wasn’t like you were doing. The blade wasn’t cutting deeply. It was enough to draw blood, but it wasn’t as messy as you would do. Alastor was staring at your face, observing every reaction. It was comforting, letting Alastor have his way with your life. He could kill you if he made a bad cut, but you knew he never would.

You were letting him hold your life in his hands, and it was… a good feeling. You knew Alastor was feeling the same. His pupils were dilated, and you could hear his breathing getting harder, the same as yours.

You looked at the wounds as Alastor kissed it, getting dirty with your blood.

“ I’m used to scars that are made by hate and violence, I don’t want you to feel that. So, my dear, let me scar you with my affections for you.”

You didn’t know if you should be scared or disgusted, but at that moment, you felt nothing but relief. You weren’t alone in this torment anymore.

#alastor headcanons #human alastor #human alastor x reader #x reader #painted smile headcanons #painted smile #human alastor headcanons #scenarios #alastor scenarios #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #TW:self harm

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plutoispurplw · 8 months ago

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Cardigan

Summary: Spencer is having dudes about his feelings towards JJ and reader can't bear it.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Spencer being a bad boyfriend, mention of prision and drugs.

A/N: I just write this because haunted of my favorite blonde but ended up in cardigan. Second part is probably in saturday or sunday.

Second part!

All these years for what? He always gonna dude about their relationship.

After he was held hostage with JJ he started to act differently towards you, he was more cold and looked guilty when you tried to hug him.

In a case when you both shared a room, you lay down on the bed by his side, it was almost midnight. You try to move closer to him but he just moves away just a little, you get nervous for a moment but you decide to push the thoughts aside.

"Spencer I wanna talk with you about something important." You look at him in the eyes, sitting against the gray headboard of the bed.

"I notice that you've been acting weird and-"

He didn't let you finish, normally he wouldn’t do that and less in a conversation like this. "Please don't start now Y/N, nothing is happening with me. Let's just sleep okay?" The tone of his voice was annoyed and sounded tired, his facial expression was annoyed

You felt your heart break a little at his words but you tried to mend it by telling yourself that he maybe was frustrated with the case and that you have to stop overthinking.

Nothing was wrong.

You lay down again in the bed and put the beige blanket over your body and his. "Okay, I'm sorry, I was just worried about you and if something was wrong."

His expression changed again and he looked filled with guilt. "Don't apologize, you just were worried. Let's just sleep okay, sweetheart?" It was the name that he called you but it felt like ice against your warm skin. It was burning but you could bear it.

You started to be more worried, maybe he was having problems again with drugs? That would explain the guilty face that receives you when you kiss him.

Questions, that what you had so you started to ask him what was happening but he always denied everything, he thought that you were that stupid?

In the wedding of Rossi, you notice the looks between him and JJ, but you decide to ignore that even if it gives you a bad feeling in your guts, maybe you just were exaggerating.

Weeks later he and you were in the apartment, he was sitting on the couch reading a book, and you approached him and sat on his lap. Normally he would put the book down and kiss you but now he didn't do that, he kept reading like you weren't there.

"Spencer, what's happening?" Your voice was tired this time, you were tired of this, of never knowing what was wrong.

He put the book down and looked at you in the eyes, he looked annoyed by you again, and you felt hurt. "Nothing is happ-"

Now you were the one interrupting him, your voice was louder. "Stop saying that, I know something is wrong so just tell me what is happening."

He put you on the couch and got up, he was pacing around the living room, he looked stressed out and you were just looking at the floor. That's when he starts talking.

When you hear his words your mind when just blank, and your face doesn’t have any emotions for a moment, the only thing that could betray your sadness is that the characteristic light in your gaze is gone.

How he could heal and draw over your scars just to make new ones, scars that would never heal.

After that you started to cry, all your emotions were being poured into your salty tears. He tried to comfort you but you didn't let him.

"You feel something for her?" He stayed quiet, he didn't look at your eyes. That told you everything that you have to know.

How could he love her? You were the one who listened to his rants and facts. You were the one who comforted him when he had nightmares or couldn't sleep because of the memories from prison, from his addiction, from everything bad that happened to him. You were the one who always loved him and the one who would give their life without thinking for him.

"She is married and she has kids Spencer!" You yell at him, anger starts to grow inside you along with the sadness from your broken heart.

"I know," He calmly told you, how could he be calm after breaking your heart?

Maybe you weren't that important to him, maybe you were the consolation prize after all.

"Y/N, I love you, I need you to know that." His hands cupped your face, hands that were always delicate with you, like you were a doll of porcelain. For an instant, you were gonna get closer to kiss him, But you noticed his gaze, filled with guilt and pity for you.

You got up and ran towards the bedroom, the suitcase on the bed while you were filling it with clothes and your things. Tears wetting your clothes and your cheeks.

He then spoke again. "Please wait Y/N, calm down." He tried to hug you from behind you, it felt like he was trying to contain you.

You turn around and push him away from your body, from your embrace. "Stop saying that I need to calm down! You just said that maybe you still love Jennifer, how the fuck do you want me to feel about it?" You yell at him at the top of your lungs. You take a deep breath and keep packing your things.

He let you keep packing the suitcase, he didn't try to stop you again.

When you ended up filling your suitcase you walked to the principal door of the apartment, ready to go anywhere but here, you couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in the same bed where he told you that he loved you for the first time.

When you look back you find him with his eyes crystallized, the guilt was consuming him. Your fool heart broke again at the sight of him like this but your brain didn’t let you go back so you stepped out of the apartment.

After that you came to our friend's house and told her everything, she let you cry on her shoulder and told you to stay and don't go back still.

In the middle of the night, you woke up, wishing that this was just a really bad dream but that didn't happen, you were in the guest room alone.

Now you couldn't sleep without his welcoming warm that embraces you through the most cold nights.

After all, you always gonna be his second choice, the one that he could always count on to comfort him even if he didn't reciprocate your feelings.

You should know better than wanting to hug him and forgive him but you couldn't help that feeling, you thought that he was the love of your life, the father of your kids, the one you would die with.

You put your hand on top of your belly, how you were supposed to tell him that you were pregnant with his child after that? You didn't know what to do.

You felt like an old cardigan under someone's bed waiting to be found again and be used.

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thebestofoneshots · 6 months ago

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.9 K Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort (but also not?) Prompt: It was nice to be in Remus' arms, but now it's time to face the real world. Will you be able to do it? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Disclaimer: Vixen’s coping mechanisms are not healthy, please go to therapy and actually process your feelings instead <3

Chapter 47: Let Me Take You Home Tonight

You walked alongside Remus through the tunnel. The floor was cold against your bare feet, and the more you walked, the more you could feel the pain caused by the blisters in your soles. You wondered for a moment if that’s what ballerinas felt after wearing pointe shoes.

Remus kept throwing glances at you as you walked, you thought you were good at hiding it, but he could hear your jaw clenching and your ragged breath as you moved, sometimes cutting short from stepping on something sharp.

“Do you want to take my shoes?” he asked you.

“What?” you asked confused as you turned to him. “No, I’m–” you wanted to say fine, you weren’t sure you could make it sound believable, “It’ll be better once Pomfrey gets a look, I’m sure.”

“But until then, you’d be in pain.”

You sighed, “You know fae don’t normally wear shoes.”

“You’re only a quarter fae,” he responded. “And they live in the woods, and fly.”

You huffed in response to that, he wasn’t wrong. But still, you weren’t going to take his shoes. Your feet were already hurt, his weren’t.

“Can I borrow your wand?” you asked as you turned to him, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over.

You took it in your hands and waved it over your feet “Episkey,” you whispered, the same spell you had used to fix Peter’s nose before his date. It didn’t completely heal your feet, but the blisters were gone and walking wasn’t as painful as before.

You didn’t like using healing spells, they tended to be complicated and could go awfully wrong, especially without your actual wand, but you already knew Remus’ wand liked you since she had allowed you to use it in the past, so you decided to risk it, if only to bring Remus some peace of mind.

“Thank you,” you added as you straightened back up and handed over his wand.

“Are you sure you don’t want them?” he insisted, half pulling one and you just shook your head again in response. His offer was sweet, awfully sweet, but you wouldn’t have him feel pain at your stake, two people had done that for you in the last 24 hours, and neither of them had survived.

Remus still wasn’t convinced, but he walked alongside you, nonetheless. He knew you were still in pain, and he wanted to do anything he could to help you, but he also knew what it was like to be in pain and be constantly reminded about it by people, so he decided to let you have it, he’d take care of you once you were with Pomfrey.

By the time you arrived at the end of the hallway, you saw the small hole you’d have to climb, the one that was much easier to climb as Vixen than as yourself, and you wondered how Remus had gotten used to it.

“Wait here,” he said as he climbed up the area with ease, placing his feet and hand on strategic places to make his ascent much easier. He was insanely good at it, almost like Spider-Man. A few seconds passed and then you saw his hand drop back inside, “All right, the Willow is calm now, come on up.”

You used one of the spots he had used to propel yourself forward and grabbed onto his outstretched hand, your own closing around his forearm as he did the same to yours. And then he helped you up almost the rest of the way. Hauling you towards him like you weighed nothing.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you stepped outside, the light being a little harsh on your dark accustomed eyes, which had you narrow them as you looked ahead. The ground was still filled with snow, and you still didn’t have shoes. You looked at your bare feet for a second before turning to Remus.

“May I borrow your wand again?” you asked with a sigh.

“What are you going to do? Melt the snow?” he asked in disbelief.

“I was planning to use a warming spell…” you admitted.

“Ridiculous.”

“I’m still not going to take your shoes.”

“Yeah I know, you’re stubborn as hell,” he said with a huff as he crouched down in front of you, “Come on, hop in.”

“You’re planning to piggyback ride me all the way to the castle? You are the ridiculous one!”

“What? Like it would be hard,” he said as he turned his head towards you. You gave him a suspicious look in return. “Hello? The best friend who also happens to be a werewolf? Superhuman strength, and all that, ringing any bells?”

You sighed, “But Remus–”

“But Remus me one more time and I will carry you without consent, you have been warned.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wanna test it?” he asked, as he raised one of his eyebrows.

He just might, you thought as you shook your head and did what you were told.

“See?” he said as he straightened up and started to walk, “Was it that hard?”

“Yes,” you said with a pout as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Remus was awfully comfortable, but you supposed he had always been, “I don’t want to be burdensome,” you mumbled, “the moon was just a couple of days ago, you must still be sore–”

“You are not burdensome,” he said almost instantly. Emphasising the “not” in the very articulated way he used to talk when he was in presentations.

“You’re too nice,” you mumbled as you dug your head deeper into his shoulder, your lips brushing against his neck causing him to shiver. “You cold?” you asked.

“No,” he responded.

“Are you sure?” you insisted, you had felt him tremble, “I could cast a warming spell around the two of us,” you added as you extended your hand in an attempt to get a hold of his wand, but that just caused your lips to brush against his neck again.

“I’m good,” he repeated as he shoved you back with his shoulder, not too sharp, but enough to drive your mouth away from his neck. That’s when you noticed.

You frowned, and then a devious smile appeared on your lips, “Are you… ticklish?” you asked tentatively.

“What? Why do you want to know?” Remus asked with a frown, his head turning your way.

“Just curious,” you replied with an innocent shrug. Remus gave you a side glance and then turned back to the castle. You had already crossed the entrance archway and were a lot closer than you’d been before. You smiled, and leaned a little closer to him again, taking in a deep breath and blowing some warm air straight to his neck.

Remus’ hair stood on end as you did that, and his step faltered as if he was about to trip, but he recovered, “What the–” he couldn’t even finish since you did it again.

“Vixen!” he complained, you just laughed. It was torture, but there was something magical about your unabashed laugh that he wasn’t sure if he really wanted you to stop or not. When you did it again, this time blowing closer to his ear, he couldn’t hold back the cackle that escaped his lips.

“Oi! Please stop!” He managed to say in between chuckles.

“But I’m trying to warm you,” you said innocently and blew again.

Remus tried to use his shoulder to push you away from his neck but was unsuccessful, he didn’t want to let go of your legs since he knew then you’d slide off him so he continued moving his shoulders in an attempt to stop you.

“Little Witch!” he whined.

“What?” you asked, “You’re cold, I’m just trying to help.”

“Such a vicious lie–” he couldn’t even finish, since you blew again, this time, he actually tripped and the two of you ended up spiralling down in the snow.

Remus attempted to break the fall, but the way he tripped didn’t help him much, so you were the one to hit the snow first, and due to the way you were grabbing onto him, he ended up in between your legs with his head being cushioned by your stomach.

There was a second of silence, in which you tried to breathe in some of the air that had escaped your lungs from the sharp fall, but you started to laugh right after. Remus raised his head from your stomach to look at you, to check if you were all right and was surprised to see you smiling so brightly.

“Look at you,” you said as you grabbed his head with both of your hands. “You’re so red, I had no idea you were that ticklish! The mighty werewolf, who would have thought?”

“I thought you were hungry,” he said as he tried to shake your hands off. He hadn’t blushed just because you were blowing air in his neck, or perhaps it had been because it was you the one doing it.

“I am, but messing with you is better than eating,” you replied with a smile and then shivered involuntarily.

He noticed instantly and scrambled into a standing position. Pulling you up so fast it took you some time to regain balance, “Remus!” you argued at his harshness but he ignored you, pulling you up and slinging you across his shoulder. “Remus!”

“I warned you, Sweetheart,” he said simply, starting a much quicker pace to the castle, even inside, he didn’t let go of you.

“Remus, what are you–” you asked as you noticed the path he was taking, “I would have walked to the infirmary,” you said with a huff.

“Rather not to risk it,” he said simply.

When you reached the infirmary, he dropped you into one of the beds and went straight to talk to Pomfrey as you stretched and sat on the edge of the mattress.

She looked at you with a worried sigh as she passed her wand over your body. “You were slightly hypothermic when he found you,” she said as she leaned down to check both of your feet. It felt weird, you had gotten hurt so often lately and you had avoided the infirmary like the plague most of the times that, being checked by a medic felt odd. Like you couldn’t deal with your pain by yourself, which was absolutely ridiculous, even Remus went to the infirmary and he was tougher than you.

You hummed in response to that, “Rem helped me warm up,” you added. She gave a side glance to the boy, he was blushing, and Remus didn’t blush often, she nodded.

“Remus, darling, could you please leave us alone for a second?” He hesitated but nodded, and walked outside. “Darling, he did more than just warm you,” she said. “News fly fast here, I heard of everything that happened, how’s your magic?”

You took a deep breath, “It’s… It’s all right,” you said honestly. “It was almost gone after the Fiendfyre but it’s much better today.”

She nodded, she could feel it, you were pretty much refuelled, it would have taken any normal witch days to refuel after something like that, she had heard about you being mixed race but she suspected your speed recovery had a lot more to do with Remus than it did with you.

“Please lay on the bed.” She was checking your knees and dabbing some potions on them with a small cotton ball. “Why did you come here?”

“Here?” you asked with a frown.

“Instead of Saint Mungo’s, instead of home?”

“I don’t think I have one of those anymore,” you admitted as you avoided her gaze. “My father cannot be happy with what I did. Hogwarts was the safest place for me. And… I should probably speak to Dumbledore.”

“You should rest first,” she corrected, “politics can wait.”

You threw her a worried glance, and she gave you a “no-nonsense” sort of gaze, you had you hold back your argument.

Still, it wasn’t politics, it was a matter of life and…

You didn’t want to think much about it either. She checked your breathing, and your face, even pulling your sleeve up slightly to check the bite you had given yourself.

“That’ll take a bit longer to heal,” she said, she easily noticed it hadn’t been a simple human tooth to tear through the skin, and while she wasn’t sure how exactly you had managed to do it, she knew it had to do with a transfiguration.

“I assumed it would,” you agreed and covered your arm with your sleeve again. You were pretty sure Remus hadn’t seen it, and you didn’t need him to see yet another way in which you had been hurt. Seeing you bawl your eyes out last night was enough. Merlin, he must think I’m so weak.

“I don’t know the full scope of the story, luv,” she said slowly as if she wasn’t sure if he should speak or not. “But… From what Dumbledore told me in his note, which he heard from someone who was also at the dinner, you ended up in the situation you did because you tried to help a muggle-born who was being tortured by the Dark Lord. That was very brave of you.”

You turned to look at her, there was somewhat of a reverential tone in the way she was looking at you that made your throat knot. You weren’t a hero, you didn’t want to be perceived as one either, especially not with how things had ended up.

Nina was gone and you would have diеd if Barty Crouch of all people hadn’t helped you get the fuck out. You would have cried over her until Lucius used a spell that wiped you off the map. You had tried to make justice and you had succeeded at nothing but making things worse and getting people killed.

You tried and failed. You weren’t a hero, you were a failure. You hadn’t been brave, you had been reckless and stupid. But if things happened all over again, would you have allowed Nina to be tortured? Would you have allowed Bellatrix to kill her?

Of course not.

“She still diеd,” you said, avoiding her gaze entirely.

Pomfrey placed her hand over yours, “I don’t know many that would have tried, darling,” she reassured. “She was lucky to have you as a friend.”

You didn’t want to cry again, but her words had been enough to crack you up. She brought you close to her chest and rubbed your back as you sobbed. You hated it, the feeling of tears streaming down your face, it made you feel weak.

After a few minutes, you sniffed and tried to wipe your face again. Pomfrey had been patient and kind and she even handed over a small, cloth handkerchief for you to wipe the tears away. “Here, take this, darling,” she said as she handed over a bottle of pepperup potion. “It’ll help the rest of the chills go away,” she explained. “One sip every two hours, It’s just for precautions.”

She had cured your feet and knees, the bite you had given yourself didn’t hurt anymore and after taking a bit of the potion, the shivering was gone.

“Will I have to stay the night?” you asked her.

She gave you a long look, after what you’d been through, the last thing that you’d want was to stay at an infirmary. Would she rather have you stay? Sure she would. But while she was worried about your physical state, she also knew the emotional one was important, and you looked like you needed a bit of normalcy and quiet. She sighed, “You may go back to your common room.”

You took a deep breath and nodded.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then Remus walked inside. He had a backpack slung across his shoulder as he walked inside. “Will she stay the night?” he asked.

“Just got cleared up,” you replied. He could see you had been crying again.

“Really?” He asked Pomfrey with a frown. He had planned to stay at the infirmary overnight with you.

“Really,” Pomfrey nodded. “But no walking around barefoot. A warm bath will probably do you good.”

Remus gave you the “I told you so” look and pulled a pair of slippers you must have left in his room one of the nights you stayed over.

You smiled and stood up while popping them on, then the two of you walked towards the exit.

“Remus?” The Mediwitch called as he was about to step out.

“Yes?” he asked, turning his head towards her.

“Keep taking care of her like you’ve been doing.”

He smiled and nodded, “Will do!”

“I brought you some of Sirius’ clothes,” Remus said as he nodded to the backpack behind him, "I thought she’d have you stay the night.”

“Me too,” you admitted. “But it looks like I wasn’t that bad off to begin with. She said you helped a lot last night.”

Remus shrugged in response.

You got to the common room and it was completely empty, “No other Gryffindors stayed over?” You asked as you walked the stairs alongside him.

“A first year and a third year,” he said. “They must be in Hogsmeade with Minnie now,” he said with a shrug.

“Oh,” you responded simply. He opened the door to his room and the two of you walked inside.

“Remus,” a voice said from the radio. “Remus, are you there?”

You smiled, it was Sirius. You turned to Remus, questioning and he nodded. You walked straight to his bed, where the radio lay and sat down right in front of him, looking for the microphone. Once you got a hold of it, you pressed the side button like you had seen people do in movies. “Roger that soldier, the squad is on their way,” you said in a deeper voice.

There was no answer from the other side, Remus pulled out the mirror to see what was happening. Sirius was looking at James with a confused face.

“Soldier, do you copy?” you insisted.

Remus barely kept a straight face.

“…Starshine?!” Sirius asked, half doubtful.

You smiled, debating whether to continue with the prank or not, “Indeed, Pups,” you replied, in your voice.

Remus saw the instant relief of Sirius through the mirror, and James leaned a little bit closer to the radio as well.

“How ARE you?” he asked.

Right, Sirius had seen it all.

“Well, Remus and Pomfrey took care of me,” you replied with a shrug, even if he couldn’t see it. Your demeanour had changed like rapid fire, it’s like you did everything you could to shove last night to a dark part and completely forget about it but people kept bringing it up.

He saw Sirius sigh on the other side, and he turned to the mirror, spotting Remus looking at him attentively, he pressed the button. “Kit, that’s not what I–” He sent Remus a questioning look, Remus shook his head in response. He could talk to you about it later when you actually wanted to talk about it. “Did you like my gift?”

“I loved it!” you said, happy he didn’t ask much more about last night. Remus walked next to you on the bed and handed the mirror over.

You looked at both Sirius and James sitting on the bed, Sirius looked like he had slept about as well as you had, there were deep dark circles under his eyes. If he had seen what you had… He might be the only person besides Remus, who understood what you were feeling, or at least had a vague idea of it, and yet… you refused to talk about it.

Not now, not through the damn radio, you tried to justify yourself. You were well aware ignoring your feelings wasn’t quite healthy, but you didn’t know a better way to cope either. Crying until you were tired wasn’t exactly a better option either, not now when you still had things to do. Maybe after the war was over, after your friends were safe, then you’d allow yourself to cry.

“Yeah?” Sirius asked with a smile. You nodded in return, looking at him through the mirror. He was wearing one of the shirts you’d gotten him. “I loved what you sent me,” he responded. “I’ve already been practising some watercolour stuff.”

Good, this was good, as if nothing had happened.

“Me too,” James intervened by snatching the microphone away from Sirius. “I mean I haven’t been practising watercolour, but I loved your gifts.”

You send him a wink through the mirror and spend about half an hour chatting with them about anything other than what had happened.

At some point, the boys had to go for lunch and you said a quick goodbye to them before allowing yourself to recline back on Remus’ bed. You wanted to keep your mind entertained, “We should go to the library,” you said out of a sudden, “or to eat, you said I could eat after Pomfrey.”

“You should bathe first, she said a warm bath should help you feel better,” Remus said as he placed his hand on your head to check your temperature. You were still borderline cold.

You checked the clock and took a sip of the pepperup potion Pomfrey had given you. Smoke came out of your ears for a couple of seconds. You were thankful for the fact that you didn’t have to drink it all in one go, you didn’t like the smoke thing one bit. It wasn’t painful, but you didn’t find it exactly comfortable either.

“Yes Mum,” you said as you let yourself sink deeper into the bed.

“Well then?”

“I don’t want to leave,” you whined, and you really didn’t. Being alone would only have you spiralling deep in your head, and in your thoughts, and nothing good could come from that. You turned to look at him, “Why don’t you read to me instead?”

“Why don’t you get an audiobook?” he retorted almost without thinking, “Besides I thought you were hungry.”

“Doesn’t sound as nice as you do, and I’m starving,” you said as you turned back to the ceiling with a sigh. Remus attempted to hide the blush that crept up his cheeks by turning to the side.

“I’ll read to you after you take a warm bath like Pomfrey instructed. I’ll even read while you eat if you want.”

You pouted in return, but you did want to change into anything other than the black dress you still had on –even if Remus’ jumper over it was warm– so you decided the deal was fair.

You stood up and walked towards the door. “What are you doing? Just use our bathroom,” Remus said as he pointed to said place’s door.

“Clothes,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Want me to get them for you?”

“And you’ll pick my underwear?” you teased with a smile. Remus couldn’t help but blush at the thought and you laughed openly at him. “Ugh, you’re such a prude. I can barely believe you were fucking Alice for like 3 months.”

“Oi!” he complained with a frown. “She never asked me to pick out her underwear.”

“Poor thing,” you said with a pout.

“As if Sirius had ever picked your underwear.”

“Oh, do you wanna know what else he got me for Christmas?” He hadn’t gotten you anything of the sort, but the more you spoke, the redder Remus became, and you thought it was adorable.

“Get your clothes, I’ll run the bath for you,” he said as he pretty much pushed you out of the room.

“Not too hot!” you said as he closed the door in your face. He heard you say a short “hmph” and walked down the stairs. He leaned his head against the door and had to breathe deeply for a couple of seconds to cool down.

Had Sirius really gotten you underwear for Christmas? He didn’t tell him about it… And they had discussed presents rather often. Then again, would he even mention that sort of stuff to me? he wondered. He stayed at the door for a few more minutes and then he walked to the bathroom, sitting down on the edge of the tub as he opened the water tap, first hot, and then just a bit of cold.

Remus was a hot water shower kind of guy, borderline scalding, so when he measured the temperature, he picked it a little hotter than the standard person would. But then again, he didn’t know how long you’d take, so the water might cool down by the time you came back.

No such luck, you had been quick on your feet, as soon as you got to the room stripping the black dress you’d been wearing. It was a stunning piece at the beginning of the night, now it had been torn and worn out from the fall, there was dried bIood clinging to the skirt and to the edges of the sleeves, both yours and Nina’s. You didn’t want to see the dress again, so you threw it in the laundry with a note for the elves, asking them kindly to get rid of it.

You would have done it yourself, but you still didn’t have a wand and attempting evanesco without one seemed like the recipe for disaster.

After that, you grabbed a simple pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. You also took a jumper that you had swiped from Remus and then placed it all in your backpack along with some toiletries. You were thankful you hadn’t packed any of your clothes to take home, although there were some things there you would miss. The clothes you had been wearing on the trip –Remus’ brown jumper and Sirius’ shirt–, the cute stuffed animal you’d gotten from the Slytherins, the books, and… of course, Sirius’ lovely drawing.

You almost broke down to cry again, the realisation that you’d never be able to go back home, that you would never eat your mother’s soup, hitting you like a truck as you thought of the things left behind. But as your eyes watered and your breath started running short you stood up hastily. Tears wouldn’t come if you didn’t give them enough time.

You took a bathrobe, wrapped it around yourself, and then took hold of the clothing assortment you’d picked, walking back to the boys’ room faster than you could process your feelings. You had to make sure the other students weren’t around as you crossed the common room, without a wand, there was no disillusionment charm, and without that, you could easily be spotted.

You walked inside the boys’ room as fast as you could, and you heard the water running, you assumed Remus was still inside, so you knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Remus said softly. “You okay?” he asked the minute he saw your face.

“Totally,” you lied. However, could you be okay? “I got the clothes,” you added as you moved the heap up just a bit to call attention to it. Remus looked at you as he dipped his hand in the water, it was bubbly and it smelled really nice.

“I added some pain reliever potions Pomfrey’s given me,” he said. You gave him a look. Last time you’d taken his medicine, things had been problematic. “I checked a book, it says they’re safe. And I didn’t use that much either.”

“You know, I’m not really in pain,” you said, not physical, at least.

“Yeah bet,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. You reached towards the tub and dug your hand in as well, pulling it out almost an instant later.

“Shit, it’s too hot.”

“It’s just warm,” Remus argued.

You shook your head in response. It was hot enough to be uncomfortable. You pulled his hand out of the water and took it in yours, “Have you already fried your heat receptors?”

Remus narrowed his eyes at you and pulled his hand away from your grasp “Haha, very funny” -he stood- “Hurry up, I’m hungry too.”

He was about to leave the bathroom when you stood up as well, “Wait, may I borrow your wand?”

Remus handed it over without questioning and then exited the room. You turned back at the tub, it was scalding.

“Relashio gelida,” you said, a stream of freezing cold water left Remus’ wand. After a couple of minutes, you stopped the stream and checked the water again. It was still warm but not scalding anymore. You stripped and got in. The smell and the potions relaxing you in an instant. You didn’t want to take too long, so you busied yourself rubbing off some of the dirt and cleaning the dried patches of bIood. You sank completely under the water, blinking as you looked up at the stone ceiling, a little blurry due to the bubbly water. I didn’t hurt your eyes though, whatever potions Remus had used, prevented the soap from actually sinking into them.

Not that you would have minded the little sting, all you wanted was a little moment of quiet under the water. She had always been a calming force for you. You remembered once reading that mermaids couldn’t cry, since they were already inside the water. You liked the idea of being able to cry without people noticing. You stayed there until your lungs cried for air and you resurfaced enough to let your face out of the water, you took a deep breath and sighed, closing your eyes and figuring it was about time for you to finish up.

You changed quickly and found Remus sitting outside, a book in his hands. You were still drying your hair as you stepped into his room. Remus thought you looked adorable as you brushed the towel over your head. The crisp white shirt you’d chosen made you look angelic in his eyes.

“Let’s get some food,” you said as you left your hair alone and brushed it with your fingers. You’d let it air dry as you ate. The castle was warm enough to not have to worry about drying it.

Remus nodded and the two of you walked down to the Great Hall. It was almost empty, there were a few students cuddled up at some tables. Like 5 Slytherins sitting with Ravenclaws, and then there were 3 younger Hufflepuffs at their own table.

“I guess they chose not to go to Hogsmeade,” you said as you sat down.

“Some of them didn’t get permission from their parents,” Remus explained. “Enid and Niall for example,” he said pointing at the Hufflepuffs, “they are half-bIoods, their parents forbade them from going because of all the incidents they’ve read in the papers, they were scared.”

“And they should be,” you said, thinking back to the pile of dеad bodies back in Rosier Manor. The feast wasn’t as big as it was normally, but a decent assortment of food appeared right in front of you as you sat. There were desserts, and fruits and pasta and even some pies, but most importantly for you at that moment, there was meat.

You grabbed onto a few sausages bacon and a piece of steak and started munching on it the instant they appeared. Remus helpfully filled up a cup of your favourite juice for you and passed it over, before serving himself one.

He, despite claiming he was hungry earlier, took his time preparing himself a sandwich before he placed anything in his mouth. You felt like you were devouring your food in comparison to the much calmer demeanour he kept as he munched on his sandwich and ate some chips.

“I’m thinking about writing my parents,” he said after taking a sip from his juice. You turned to him and nodded. “But I’m not sure if… I mean would you rather stay here or do you wanna come with us?”

“You mean come to your house?”

Remus shrugged in response “I mean, the change of scenery could help clear your mind… and we could visit James and Sirius at some point too…” He seemed slightly hesitant as he spoke.

“Are you sure your parents would want me at their house, though?”

He frowned, “why wouldn’t they?”

“I mean… Pomfrey’d heard about the dinner, I pretty much openly opposed Voldemort, there’s probably a huge target for my head, that’s why I came straight to Hogwarts.”

“Oh, they won’t care,” Remus said. “We can ask Dumbledore if he thinks it’s safe if you want. If not we can just stay here until the break is over–“

“–I can stay here,” you interrupted. “Remus, your mum must miss you a lot. She hasn’t seen you in months, you’re not going to stay just because of me.”

“Mum has Dad, she won’t be alone if I don’t go,” he said simply. “If you stay, I’ll stay.”

“Talk to them first,” you insisted. “When were you supposed to leave?”

“Tonight,” he admitted. “I’m meant to see Dumbledore after dinner, he’ll let me use his office’s floo network.”

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but the idea of spending tonight alone was unnerving. Of course, you couldn’t keep clinging onto Remus like a leech, no matter how comforting he might be.

“I’m going to the owlery,” he said as he stood up, “I’ll write them, we’ll have an answer before then.”

“I should speak to Dumbledore,” you said as you too stood up, you turned towards the teacher’s table, “you think he’ll be at his office?”

He shrugged, “I’ll come with, it’s on my way anyway.”

You nodded, secretly thankful that he’d offered to walk you there, since you weren’t sure how to get to Dumbledore’s office. Yes, you had been at the school and you knew your way around secret passageways and to and from classrooms as much as anyone, but you hadn’t been to his office since the very start of the year, you didn’t even remember ever seeing it again.

Once the two of you were in front of the statue, Remus waited for you to ring the bell and for the statue to roll around revealing the set of stairs before nodding at you and continuing on his way. It was strangely reminiscent of that time you’d met him, the sexy pirate from the romance novels, you remembered. You had been through so much with him, that the initial meeting seemed to you like it had been years ago, instead of months.

The statue behind you clicked into position and you took a deep breath and walked upstairs, ready to talk to Dumbledore, even if you weren’t eager to relive the night’s events.

“I was expecting you to come,” he said calmly, “please sit,” he added as he gestured towards his chair. You swallowed and did as told. “How are you?”

“Surprisingly, still alive,” you responded.

There was a faint smile on his face, almost imperceptible, but you had noticed the way the corner of his mouth curled, even if just for a second. “I wouldn’t say surprising,” he said, “I’ve been informed you’re a very capable witch.”

You held back the amused scoff that threatened to leave your mouth by clenching your jaw before you decided to speak again, changing the drive of the conversation. “How much do you know?” He curled an eyebrow. “Of last night, I mean.”

“There was a fire at the Christmas Party, people diеd, your mother, among them.”

“It was a Deatheater Party,” you said coldly, “Voldemort was there, they called him Tom.”

He nodded as if he was aware of that. “They were torturing people, you intervened to stop Mrs. Lestrange from using an unforgivable on Nina Blythe. Her mother had already passed, unfortunately. Nobody’s seen her since the disaster.”

You struggled to say the next words, “She didn’t make it.”

The man nodded, somberly, “I assumed as much when you arrived with Madam Pomfrey and she didn’t. You wouldn’t have left her behind.”

He was right, you didn’t even want to leave her behind when she had passed. “Barty Crouch Jr. and Evan Rosier helped me escape.”

“The same Slytherins that–”

“–Yes,” you cut him off, you didn’t like being rude to your elders, but you didn’t want to hear from that moon either. The fact that the two boys had helped you still being hard to process. The same hands that had left you bruised one night had grabbed onto you to get you out of there alive, it didn’t make sense. “There were a lot of people there. I don’t know all of their names, but I tried to gather as many as I could. I’m sorry if I can no longer be of use.”

Dumbledore frowned, “No longer be of use?”

“I can’t spy for you anymore.”

“Ahhh,” he said, seeming to understand. “Nightshade didn’t ask to train you just because she thought you’d be a useful spy. Neither did I. We wanted you to join the Order of the Phoenix.”

“The what?”

Dumbledore explained to you what the Order was, that while your family connections had been initially a big reason for your recruitment, it had been your performance in classes, and the friendships you had formed that really got Nightshade to choose you. You had shown no bIood-based bias, you had openly defied pure-bIoods.

“We think you’d be an incredible addition to our ranks,” he added.

You gulped as you stared at his desk, trying to process everything he’d told you, “You… you want me to fight in the war,” you said, as if putting it into words made it any more real than it already was.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as he stared at you and nodded, “Perhaps then you’ll be able to continue protecting those you love.”

“But– there are much more experienced wizards, there– I almost diеd last night.”

“Yes, and you were willing to risk your life to protect someone you love,” he said. “That makes you better for the task of fighting a war than most, no matter how qualified they might be.”

You swallowed again, be it bravery or recklessness the reason that you had done what you did, you were now being offered…

“A chance to stop it from happening again,” he finished.

You looked at him with a frown, you were sure your occlumency was up, and you instantly tested your mind shields. They were still up, Dumbledore gave you a long look, and you realised he hadn’t been reading your mind, but rather your reactions and your body language. The way your jaw clenched and your body tensed when he said certain things. You breathed, relaxing your body as much as you could before speaking again, “Okay,” you said simply.

Dumbledore nodded, and you were about to stand, halfway up your chair before you sat down again and leaned a little closer, “I came here because it was the only safe place I could think of that Barty could help me apparate to.”

“It was very wise,” he noted.

“But… Remus will leave tonight. He asked his parents if I could come with them, but I won’t if my being with them puts them at risk.”

“Do you want to go?” He asked calmly.

You were taken aback by his question. Of course you did, you didn’t want to be left alone. “Not if it risks anyone’s life,” you repeated.

He nodded and gave you a long look, “From what I gather, the deatheaters are not looking for you at the present moment. They think you’re too weak, and that you’ll return home by yourself. Your father will probably be there, waiting for you.” He took a deep breath and then continued, “Is there a way in which he can track you? A magic item or something he’s given you?”

“No,” you responded. You had many magic items, but none by which he could track you. Not even the ring your mother had given you.

“Then it should be safe for you to go, as long as you don’t call too much attention to yourself. The Lupins live in a cottage near the sea in Wales at the moment. Small muggle town, no wizards live there to my knowledge.”

You nodded as he gave you all the information, “So, I wouldn’t put them in danger by going?”

“You would not,” he reassured.

“Okay, thank you,” you said as you stood up, something akin to a smile drawing itself on your lips.

Dumbledore merely nodded as he saw you walk towards his door and descend down the stairs, a mischievous look on his face, as if he was both amazed by and compassionate of you.

You walked down and found Remus sitting on a nearby bench, writing some things down in a small notebook. His face lit up when he spotted you, “How did it go?” he asked.

“He knew a lot of it already, I gave him the details and wrote a list of all the names I remembered.

The two of you walked towards the common room by each other and sat near the fire. Remus had extended his legs over the table and you let your head fall over his lap, closing your eyes when he turned on the radio and played one of the tapes you had sent them. “You still want me to read?” he asked.

You shrugged in response. “I’ve got this book,” he told you, pulling it out of his back, “or we could do one of yours?”

“Your book,” you said, you hadn’t even opened your eyes.

“You really want me to read advanced arithmancy?” he asked. You frowned and opened your eyes, he gave you an amused look as you took the book from his hand to revise the title.

“Your nose will grow,” you said as you read the title. It was not Advanced Arithmancy.

“You weren’t even looking,” he said simply. “The book’s fine?”

You nodded, and he started reading. Remus was an incredibly good reader, and you lost yourself on the story as he read, his hand had absentmindedly found your hair and he was carefully brushing his fingers over your scalp, like he often saw you do to comfort Sirius, you had done it to him a couple of times too, and he loved every minute of it.

You were both so immersed in the story that neither of you realised there was an owl knocking on a window until a boy from 2nd year walked down the stairs and asked if anyone was expecting mail.

You turned to look at Remus and he moved the book away to be able to see your face, you lifted yourself up while he stood and walked towards the window, opened it and retrieved a small letter from an owl’s beak.

“Thank you,” you said to the boy with a polite smile.

“You’re welcome,” he said before giving you a court nod and leaving, waving a polite goodbye.

“They said you can come,” Remus said as he sat down next to you again, showing you the letter. You took a deep breath and smiled. You wouldn’t have to spend the night alone. “Want me to help you pack?”

You nodded with a smile and the two of you walked to your room. Remus had been there before, back at the Halloween party, a soft smile played on his lips as he looked back at the memory.

Meanwhile, you took the small bag from the party that you had somehow managed to keep slung across your shoulder during the entire ordeal and started dumping everything onto your bed. Remus looked at you surprised since he had no idea you had also charmed your bag to keep so many things inside.

“Why would you take so many things to the party,” he asked as he pulled one of the three books inside the bag and started to inspect it.

“I was originally planning to sit in a corner and read something,” you admitted, “was not expecting a bigotry celebration.”

“I loved this, by the way,” you said as you pulled out the book of poems he’d made you and placed it on the desk carefully.

“You took it as well?”

You shrugged, “I wanted to read it, I haven’t gotten through all the pages,” you said honestly. Then you leaned down and picked out a small suitcase from under your bed.

Remus smiled as he looked at you, you had been so talkative at Slughorn’s party, perfectly entertaining both adult guests and other kids your age, he could barely imagine you sitting in a corner with a book in your hand, you clearly hadn’t been eager to attend said party in the first place.

“Do your parents celebrate an elegant New Year?” You asked as you pulled a few simpler clothes from your trunk, some jeans, a couple of jumpers, some thermal clothes and a couple of graphic tees.

“No wonder I can’t find my jumpers,” he said as he grabbed three of the jumpers you had pulled out.

“Sorry,” you said with a wince and a small shrug, they were all his. “So, elegant?”

“Not really?” he said with a shrug. “I mean Mum wears something nice, but it’s not like elegant wizard stuff either.”

“You think this would work?” You asked as you pulled out a simple blue dress. It had sleeves that would reach just past your elbows and a square neckline.

Remus nodded with a shrug, “Just wear something comfortable,” he said as he sat on the bed and helped bend some of the clothes you’d picked out.

“Oh, Rem, don’t worry about that, it’s–”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, “just focus on finding the stuff, we should hurry.”

You gave him a look but nodded, picking out some more stuff quickly and starting to bend it all. When you opened your suitcase he realised it had also been charmed, two rows of drawers pulled out and moved to the side, enough for you to place all you had picked and at least another 3 times that. Of course, you wouldn’t need that many clothes, so it didn’t matter if some parts of it stayed empty.

“You’re taking pyjamas?” he asked.

You hadn’t even thought about it, and quickly dug through your trunk to pull some shorts, fluffy socks, long sleeve shirts, and also some thick pants, in case it got too cold. You also walked towards the bathroom and got a toothbrush and a small set of toiletries. When you walked back, Remus was already placing all of your sleep clothes in one of the drawers.

“Thanks,” you said with an awkward smile and pulled a brush from the vanity.

Remus just shrugged in response, “No problem, luv.”

You heard a small tap on the window and walked towards it, a large black owl was leaning against the window seal. He carried a small square package in its claw, Narrow and long, wrapped in black fabric and with a letter tucked in the side. The owl waited for you to open, left the package with a small nod and flew away.

Remus and you exchanged looks before you picked it up and walked over to the bed, sitting next to him. You pulled the green ribbon and found a small letter on top, it was more of a note than a letter, though.

We attempted to retrieve your wand, unfortunately, and as you’ll see, we were late, Bella had already broken it in two. You’ll have to get a new one. Barty mentioned that you asked for the one that belonged to the girl. We had to dig through, but we found it. Hope it serves you for whatever purpose it is that you need it.

-E

“They got it back,” you whispered as you took the box and pulled it open. Your wand, like Evan said, was there in two pieces, completely broken. You pulled out the pieces with a sigh, a sad look as you stared at them.

“You’ve had it all your life?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “I got it when I was 9 so I could study ahead.” Remus gave you an incredulous look, and you shrugged. “They wanted me to perform well in my first year. They wouldn’t let me use it all the time, but Mum taught me all the basic spells, and I pinched a book of duels from my father. I accidentally charred a tree before they realised.”

Remus scoffed with a smile on his face. He shouldn’t have been surprised, you had always been a bit of a troublemaker, but imagining a little Vixen with a wand burning a tree down was certainly amusing. Either way, there was still another wand in the box. It was narrow and long, about as long as James’, perhaps a little longer, it was carved like Sirius’ but the insides had a tinge of blue, and seemed to shine as it caught the light. “Is that–”

“Nina’s wand,” you finished, swallowing thickly as you too looked inside the box. “They found it,” you added with a sad smile.

“What will you do with it?” he asked.

You shook your head, “I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I just knew I didn’t want it to be lost forever.”

“Do you know what type of wand it is?” he asked.

You shook your head in response, “Nina almost always kept her in her pocket, she tended to avoid the subject… I never asked her why.” That last part was a little harder to say, mostly because of the thought that came to your head after it, you’d never be able to ask why.

“Maybe we can give it back to a family member?”

“Her mum was there too,” you responded. “Perhaps Sybil would know,” you added with a shrug.

“If–” Remus hesitated, “If I were her, I’d want you to keep it.”

You gave him a look, and picked the wand up, shaking your head, “I doubt it.”

“No, I’m sure,” Remus insisted. “She pushed you out of the way of a spell, she would want you to be protected. If her wand could protect you the same way you protected her–”

“Tried,” you corrected. “I tried to protect her.”

Remus placed his arm over your shoulders and brought you closer to him, “Sometimes we do all that’s within our power and we still lose. It doesn’t make us any less worthy.”

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder, “If I take it” –you took in a breath– “If I take it then I can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen.” Your eyes were watering again. “I’d have to face it, every time I do magic, I’ll have to–”

“Hey,” Remus said softly, as he rubbed his hand on your shoulder. “Breathe, luv. Let’s leave it here for now. You can borrow my wand whenever you need magic and we’ll go to Diagon sometime on the break so you can get a wand. How does that sound?”

You blinked the tears away, quickly cleaning one that had slipped and nodded. “I’ll bring it, just in case,” you said, and gently placed the one on the drawer near the bottom. You didn’t want to see it when you looked for clothes.

Remus didn’t think it was healthy to ignore your feelings, he knew what you were doing to yourself wasn’t any better than actually processing your loss, but he had been trying to ignore his feelings for you and Sirius the last few months, and he wasn’t hypocritical enough tell you how you should process things when he himself could barely do it.

Eventually, you took a deep breath and pressed a button on the side of the suitcase. The drawers went back inside and the suitcase closed shut. You took some of the books and placed them inside the smaller bag you had taken to the party. “We’ve got books at home too,” Remus teased with a smile and you elbowed him gently.

“You said after dinner, right?” He nodded, and you turned to the clock, “We should probably go see Dumbledore then… Perhaps we can get some snacks from the kitchen on our way.”

Remus shook his head, “Mum will have dinner for us,” Remus said, "she used to be a chef, she’s always loved cooking.”

“I had no idea,” you said as you grabbed the suitcase and the bag, you left them in the common room and walked with Remus to get his own suitcase and backpack and then the two of you walked towards Dumbledore’s office.

“I see you’ve decided to go,” Dumbledore said as he saw you with the suitcase in hand.

“Remus can be very persuasive,” you replied.

He nodded and moved out of the way to let you walk towards his chimney.

Dumbledore handed over a small piece of paper to you, in neat gold, you read: Lupin’s cottage, Wales.

“Thank you,” you said as you walked over to the chimney.

“Mr. Lupin, perhaps you should go first,” Dumbledore suggested.

Remus nodded in agreement and walked inside, taking some powder from the bag and then throwing it against the floor, “Lupin’s cottage, Wales,” he said, articulating every word carefully.

“Ready?” Dumbledore asked as he offered the bag for you to take some of the green powder. You nodded and dug your hand into the bag, taking a good deal of powder and holding your fist closed tight. “Take care,” he said simply.

“Thank you, Professor,” you said as you walked inside the chimney. “Happy New Year,” you added right before taking a deep breath and saying “Lupin’s cottage, Wales.”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: I little bit of fluff so we can start processing all that's been going on in GC lately. I feel like it's much needed.