#able to read them myself so that felt unfair to count. but maybe I should have if I’m going for a library? idk

[mascwoman]

I periodically go count my books to see if I have a “library” worth of books (1000+) yet and guess fucking what, I’m finally there!!!!! 💪💪💪

[absolutelyfizzing]

unwanted feelings

james potter x reader

description - You'd had a crush on James Potter for years and when he kisses Lily Evans in front of you, you are heart broken. Later you find that he didn't actually feel as you expected and he explains himself.

warnings - some angst, unsure reader, fem pronouns, self doubt, negative self talk, not eating for a day cause reader is avoiding someone

word count - 2800

A/N - so this one isn't my best work by far but i wrote it so looks like its getting posted. i don't know why all of my reader inserts lately are so fem and sort of bubbly, i guess it's sort of what i'm aiming for for myself right now but i'm sorry if it maybe isn't coming off as relatable.

MASTERLIST

Your throat tightened in anxiety as you watched James zoom around the pitch. He was reckless when he was playing quidditch and it was one of the things that made him great at the game and an excellent captain. It was also the thing that nearly gave you a heart attack every time you watched him play. You went to every one of his games and you always wore something of his with his colors when you were in the stands. You were stood up on your seat and a slightly bored looking Remus sat to your right, reading from a book you didn't recognize. You'd thought that Sirius playing would be enough to keep him interested but sports was just not something he enjoyed watching. You were usually that way as well but whenever James was playing, suddenly you were the most intent spectator in the stands.

You were more worried than you should have been. More worried than what was appropriate for a friend to be. That's what you were, friends. That had been reinforced many times by the shaggy haired boy and you tried desperately to get it through your head before you embarrassed yourself one of these days. Sometimes though, you just couldn't help it.

Really you might have thought he reciprocated if you didn't know any better. You often got comments on what an attractive couple you guys were but each time it was quickly corrected by James. Normally along the lines of 'Oh god no, we are just friends. Purely platonic' , sometimes followed by a shudder or a gag even. It upset you every time to no end but you played along. You rarely, if ever, contributed to the shooting down of any feelings but that was never noticed by the man you had feelings for.

You'd had a crush on him since you were probably in your second year and now you were coming to the middle of your seventh. There were a million times that you almost said something but every time there was a reminder that you were not the one he had eyes for. It usually took the shape of disgust at the thought of dating you or commentary as he pined over the Evans girl who you felt you could never compete with. How could you when she was just perfect. You saw her to the left of you as she stood in the stands as well and your hands shook with insecurity before looking back toward the game. Your heart raced nearly as quickly as James did around the pitch and you prayed that the snitch would be caught soon so that you could get rid of the stress surrounding you. You felt a hand on your right shoulder and you looked over to find Remus had stood and was looking at you caringly.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" He asked softly and you tried your very best to soften your gaze and calm your stance so you appeared less concerned with someone that you shouldn't have that much interest in in the first place.

"Of course I am. When am I not?" You smiled before looking out at the pitch.

"When youre watching the guy you're in love with play a dangerous game that you don't like." He stated simply in response to the question you meant to be rhetorical and your eyes widened.

"I don't know what youre talking about." You nearly whispered and Remus smiled.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone Y/N but its not exactly subtle. It probably doesn't help that I know the look on your face because it's how I feel too watching Sirius play." He was still smirking but your anxiety was far from eased.

"Oh god, does he know?" You asked scaredly, terrified that the answer would be yes and you would have to stop spending time with him.

"Shockingly, no." You sighed out in relief but Remus continued. "You should tell him though or else he might end up moving on."

"What do you mean? There's nothing for him to move on from. Everyone knows he's in love with Evans and he has made it pretty clear that he is opposed to being anything more than a friendly relationship with me." You choked out, struggling with the words leaving your lips but knowing them to be true.

"I mean he has a minor crush on Evans but it's nothing compared to the annoyingly huge crush he has on you. He's probably just overcompensating for the fact that he's insecure and doesn't want you to reject him."

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked sincerely. You were friends with Remus as you were with the rest of the marauders but it was nothing compared to the friendship they held within their group. You knew Remus was more loyal to James than to you so you couldn't understand why, if it was true, Remus would be telling you at all.

"Because he is trying desperately to move on seeing as he is under the impression that you aren't into him and I'd hate to see him throw something away that could be really good for him." Remus smiled gently and you looked at him gratefully.

"I really appreciate you telling me and all but I just don't think I can believe you. I can't even count how many times he has made a big show of not liking me. I love him too much to ruin what we have and I know that if I confessed and it went bad that I would lose him all together. I would rather have him in my life in a way that hurts than not have him in it at all." You stated sadly and Remus sighed but nodded in understanding.

"I get it but just know that I'm being honest and pretty soon he is going to give up on it. I just want to see you both happy but if its too big of a leap, I understand. That's exactly the excuse he tells the rest of us too."

Suddenly cheers erupted from the stands, cutting your conversation with Remus off as everyone ran to rush the pitch. The snitch had been caught and gryffindor won. You were excited for James but you were also a little terrified to walk onto the pitch to see him with the now conflicted thoughts running through your head. Your thoughts were stopped by the image in front of you which was causing the whole crowd to cheer. James had pulled Lily Evans into a kiss in his excitement and your heart stopped. You felt nausea rise in your throat and Remus caught your eye with a sympathetic look. You didn't look at him for longer than a second and you ran off the pitch with tears streaming down your face. You found your way up to your dorm, pushing yourself to get there quickly before the common room filled with students celebrating their victory. James was always one to love attention so he would be getting crazy after the game which he did just about every time they won.

When you made it to your bed, you hurried under the covers, throwing the shirt you were wearing which belonged to James onto the floor. You felt your heart clench at the despair you felt. You wanted to be upset at Remus for getting your hopes up but you knew he was sincere in his want to help. Still you felt that you would probably not be able to face James in the weeks to come. Maybe, given a little time, you could be around him and not be upset at the world for taking away your chance with him. As you laid in your bed, you stared at the ceiling. You felt tears streaming down your face and you grew angry at yourself. He didn't owe you anything, he wasn't into you. That wasn't his fault and it was so unfair of you to expect anything more from him when your feelings were not his responsibility.

You weren't sure how long you laid there but you could hear the party start and end in the common room. It must have been late. Sleep wouldnt come though, you could just feel your heart continue to break and you were stuck in a loop of self pity. You made the decision that the following days would be spent away from James if you could at all help it. That was probably what he wanted anyway and it was the only way that you would get over the pain you were feeling. At some point your roomates entered your dorm and sleep overtook you for a few restless hours.

When you woke up, the sun was barely on the rise. You hurried up and got dressed and ready. You were planning on getting to breakfast early to avoid running into any of the marauders. You found your plans were not going how you wanted when you entered the great hall to find a head of red hair next to a mop of black. Your throat tightened and you quickly moved to turn and head out of the great hall. You heard a familiar voice call your name but you rushed out before you could give it too much thought. You knew that if you let him try to convince you, you would end up having a very upsetting breakfast with your best friend and his new lover. You would rather avoid breakfast.

Throughout the day, avoiding James was proving to be harder than you had thought it would be. You had many of your classes with him and you even sat next to him in a few. He was insistently trying to get you to open up about why you were suddenly so closed off to him but you remained shut off, reassuring him that nothing was wrong and you were just a little tired from the game the day before. You avoided lunch for the same reason as you had avoided breakfast and you felt yourself starting to get a bit lightheaded. Your afternoon was spent avoiding James but soon he was preoccupied with Lily anyway.

You were hid in a corner of the library when a cough alerted you of someone's presence. You looked up to find the very eyes you hadn't wanted to see.

You pushed it down with a gulp and smiled a bit at him, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay but they were growing harder to hold back after keeping everything pent up all day. It probably didn't help that you were hungry and therefor a bit more emotional. You could feel the tears sitting in your eyes, waiting for something to go wrong so they had an excuse to escape you.

"I don't know what I did wrong." He mumbled while looking at the floor in front of you and you took a deep breath.

"There's nothing wrong James, I promise. It's just been a long day." You smiled and your heart picked up speed.

"Since when did we lie to each other?" He questioned and your heart stopped. You were left unsure how to respond.

"Since the truth would cause more damage than good." You spoke honestly. At this he looked up at you and your eyes met. A tear left you and James immediately moved to comfort you but you tried to move away, standing quickly to evade him. You regretted it as spots filled your vision, the lack of food catching up to you. You know that you turned a bit green for a moment because James looked slightly scared.

"Y/N I dont know whats wrong but you look like you should be getting to the hospital wing. You don't look well."

Before you could answer you felt your vision blacken and your legs give out before your consciousness left you completely.

When you woke up, you knew you were in the hospital wing. It smelled sterile and the bed was stiff underneath you. When you started to wake madam pomfrey came to check on you.

"You can't go around with an empty stomach like that again, do you hear me?" She scolded, though her eyes were soft. You nodded solemnly. "I was alerted that you hadn't been to the great hall to eat all day, you have to know that isn't good for you. I'm gonna have a prefect watch out for you the next couple days to make sure you're eating at meal times. Understood?" She asked again and once more you nodded before leaning back and sighing. You looked at your surroundings and were surprised to see the black haired boy next to your bed fast asleep. Your heart took off again and you felt trapped by your environment. As anxiety swirled around in your chest, James had woken up a bit.

"You're awake." James sighed, laced with relief. You still wouldn't make eye contact with him.  You felt the bed dip as he sat on it and you looked up to watch him put his head in his hands as he leaned over. You felt guilt fill your chest more than it already had from hating that you felt any claim over the man in front of you. You knew you were in the wrong and the last thing you wanted was to cause him any pain. "Remus talked to me." He almost whispered.

At that moment, you wished you could have apparated to anywhere else in the world. You looked back down at your lap and tears were once again brought to your eyes. You felt betrayal that Remus would reveal your feelings to James.

"I'm sorry." You apologized and you fiddled with your fingers.

"Why are you the one apologizing, I'm the one whos behaved poorly." He assures and you shake your head.

"That's not fair to yourself. You're allowed to want to be with whomever you want and my feelings should have no effect on that. You've made it clear for years that you weren't interested in me and it is my fault that I couldn't take a hint. I'm so sorry." You gushed out and tears started to fall from your eyes. You felt James get up from your bed and you prepared him to leave but instead you felt arms wrap around you and a kiss came to your head.

"Y/N I have had feelings for you for years. I was just always too scared for myself to even consider that you might feel the same." He whispered out but you felt only a different kind of pain. Even though he had now admitted his feelings, he was still dating Lily. Not you. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts he spoke quietly. "I broke it off with Evans." You pulled away immediately.

"What? Why would you do that?" You asked quickly and before he had a chance to answer you feared the worst. "Oh god is it because of me? James please dont let my feelings have any bearing on who you want to date, I can't stand the thought of being the reason you broke up. Even if we do have feelings for each other, you deserve a chance with Lily if that's what you want."

"It was mutual, actually. She understood that I had feelings for you and she said she had a crush on someone else. It just seemed like I had kissed her a bit rashly on the quidditch pitch and we agreed that we shouldn't have gotten together in the first place. It was only a day anyway." He reassured as he explained himself and you calmed a bit.

"So what does this mean." You got out, almost inaudibly.

"It means that, if you'll have me, I'd like to take you out on a date." He stated as if it were the simplest thing in the world and you almost couldn't believe your ears. Before you were even thinking you were nodding quickly, causing spots to once again fill your vision and James grabbed your shoulders to stabilize you before you both laughed. He pulled you by your shoulders toward him and he caught your lips in a kiss that somehow expressed all of the years of repressed feelings. When he pulled away he smiled at you and sat back on your bed. He spent the rest of the day with you in the hospital wing talking about all of the places he was going to take you in the coming weeks.

[maemelany]

Fixing the Broken (Part 3)

Summary: People say that time heals all wounds. In your case, time made it worse.

You’ve been married to Chris for five years, but his absence spoke louder than his words. After 5 years of trying, you’ve decided that you’ve had enough, and you left him. But Chris doesn’t want to let you go; he doesn’t want to give up on your marriage.

Would he be able to fix what you consider irretrievably broken?

Warnings: Angst, tiny tiny mentions of sex

Word Count: 2.6 k

Pairing : Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: I hope you like this one. I can’t wait for your reactions about this one. I can only imagine what @fallenoutofrose will have to say about Chris’s behavior in this part 😂

Enjoy and let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list

Love x  Mae ❤️

Masterlist 

Prologue , Part 1 , Part 2 Part 4 

“It is better to hope than despair.”

-Lailah Gifty Akita,

You finally knocked. After standing in front of that door for what felt like an eternity now, you finally knocked. Your legs felt like jelly, and your heart was pounding in your chest. You were feeling more anxious than the day of your wedding, and the irony of the situation made you almost laugh. Almost, but not quite. You were about to when Lisa opened the door.

She was as radiant as ever, a big, warm smile on her face. Honestly, it surprised you. You knew that she knew. Now that Chris was back, there was no way Lisa wouldn’t know what was going on. That man told everything to his mother.

Lisa let you in, and you followed her into the living room. The house felt like a second home to you. Actually, it felt more like home than your place with Chris sometimes. There was always something happening here. When you left your house, you almost came here. But you felt like it was unfair to Chris. Lisa was his mom, and her house was his safe place, not yours.

“Chris told me everything. How are you holding up honey, are you okay?” Lisa asked you

Her kindness broke your last defence. Her genuine, motherly concern about you made you feel guilty that you didn’t come to her sooner. Lisa had always been so kind to you, taking you in as her own daughter from the moment Chris introduced you as his girlfriend. Your lips started to shiver as you were trying your best to hold the tears back.

“Oh, honey… please don’t cry.”

She took you in her arms, and you broke into tears. It may have lasted five minutes or an hour; you weren’t sure. These days you were crying so much it was just the new normal.

Your best friend had been a great support to you, but she had to. She was your best friend. Chris’s mom was supposed to be on his side, defending her son’s best interest. Not yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me things were that bad, Y/N?” Lisa asked you

You looked away. Somehow ashamed that you thought Lisa would reject you.

“I … I don’t know. Chris is your son, and…”

“And you’re my daughter. Y/N, you’re family. We all love you!” Lisa said, taking your hands into hers. “Plus, I bet some even love you more than Chris,” Lisa joked.

You laughed, feeling a little bit more at ease now. “I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Don’t be. I am sorry we didn’t see anything,” Lisa said

You shook your head. It wasn’t their fault. They weren’t responsible, Chris and you were. It was your marriage, after all.

Lisa asked for your version of the story, and you could tell she was trying to be as partial as possible. You hated that you had to put her in that situation. She cringed when you told her Chris didn’t notice you were gone until he went to Carly’s place.

“That boy…” she said, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, a sad expression on her face.

“It’s not your fault Lisa. Actually, it’s not even Chris’s fault. I can’t force him to stay married to me,” You said

“You think he feels… forced to be with you?”

You shrugged. “I mean… why else would he be as far away from me as he possibly could?”

Lisa watched you closely. You could tell she wanted to say something but was refraining herself.

“You two should talk. Maybe you could solve this…” Lisa said

“I don’t think us talking would do any good. We tried that yesterday; you should have seen how shi… messy it was”

Lisa tried to hide her smile when you stopped yourself from swearing. “If talking to each other doesn’t work, maybe you should try talking to someone else…” Lisa suggested

You frowned. You didn’t see how Chris and you talking to Lisa would help. Yes, Lisa was a wise woman, but as she said herself, she was your mother both. Knowing Chris, he would take it personally if his mother called his shit out about his marriage. You still remembered what happened the last time Lisa agreed with you instead of Chris. He was salty for days.

“I love you, Lisa, but I don’t think talking to you would fix this,” you gently said

Lisa laughed. “I wasn’t talking about me, honey. I meant a therapist.”

“A therapist? Like couples therapy, you want us to go to couples therapy?” you asked.

Lisa nodded. You never thought about that.

“I thought couples therapy was supposed to happen before couples decide they want a divorce.”

“Not necessarily. It could help you express your feelings in a safe place. And, you decided you wanted a divorce, honey. I don’t think Chris agrees with you.”

You frowned. If Lisa thought the warm smile would help you accept the subtle criticism easier, she was wrong. You were even worse than Chris when it came to being right. 

You loved being right and hated being told that you could have done something wrong, especially in that very particular situation. You were right. You had to be right. It would kill you to realize you were wrong and left the man you loved for nothing.

“Do you think I went too far…” You said, the tears resurfacing

“Oh no,” Lisa immediately told you. “You did what was right for you, and that’s the most important. I can’t even imagine how you must have felt, alone in that big house.”

A huge weight lifted off your shoulders. Secretly you thought people didn’t understand you. You were married to Chris Evans, living what they thought should be a fairy tale. 

Even though you and Chris were what people called a private couple, he would sometimes tell things about you or express his love for you when he was being interviewed. When those things happened, your friends would always send you messages, reminding you how lucky you were. 

They didn’t know how far they were from the truth. Most of the time, you were alone in your bed when you were reading their messages. Alone and lonely. 

People think they know things about your life, your marriage, but they don’t. They would have to walk in your shoes, feel what you daily felt to actually understand.

When you left Lisa’s house, she had convinced you. She made you realize that even though things between You and Chris were pretty bad, your relationship was worth saving, or at least you owed it to Chis and yourself to try. Even if therapy didn’t work, you still owed it to yourself and Chris to end things the most peacefully possible. Before being your husband, he was your friend. You needed at least that friendship to be saved.

Instead of going back to your best friend’s place, you went home. It wasn’t even a conscious decision. You started driving and found yourself taking the way home. Instead of turning back, you continued. You realized waiting wouldn’t help. You’d waited so much already, now was the time to act.

As you opened your front door, you felt submerged with that particular sent. You were home. Despite what you told Chris yesterday, this house was your home. You chose almost every piece of furniture.

 Chris was more than happy to leave it to you; he didn’t understand why you needed so many pillows on the bed or a particular shade of beige for the dining chairs. Instead of explaining everything, you would just ask for his opinion when it was absolutely necessary. Plus, it was hard to decorate a house via FaceTime. 

Thinking of it now, decorating this house helped you manage your loneliness for some time. You were proud of every single room, from your bedroom to the laundry room.

You found Chris and Dodger sleeping on the sofa. You weren’t surprised. The couch was probably Chris’ favorite spot in the whole house. You had your office, and he had this sofa. 

You were tempted to lay next to them. They felt like home. But you didn’t want to wake Chris up. If there was one thing Chris was lacking, it was sleep. You also noticed the dark circles under his eyes yesterday, and the current situation was not helping his sleep deprivation.

When you noticed a few takeout boxes in the room, you knew exactly how to occupy yourself. Chris used to love your cooking. Your skills were definitely better than his, but as your husband liked to say, one cannot be good at everything. You smiled when you remembered how you would tease him about his horrible cooking skills, and he would remind you how messy you were.

Even now, after thirty minutes of cooking, the countertop looked more like a war zone than a kitchen island.

“It smells good.”

You jumped. You didn’t see Chris coming, and now you had tomato sauce all over your blouse.

“Chris! You scared me!” you said, looking at him.

He was leaning against the opposite wall, observing you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

You looked at him with more attention. He looked less tired. You wanted to say something, but Dodger was all over you before you could open your mouth.

“Hey, baby. I missed you so much,” you said to your dog.

Dodger started to bark. The high pitch he usually reserved to Chris when he was coming back home after long periods of absence.

It broke your heart.

“He missed you,” Chris finally said

You didn’t know what to reply. You didn’t want to say something that would create a hostile environment for the rest of the evening.

“I need to change myself,” you said, showing your now stained blouse.

You were gone before Chris could even blink. Once in your bedroom, you found everything exactly as you left it. You rolled your eyes, mentally asking yourself how Chris could be so organized. And then you realized he wasn’t that organized. It wasn’t just the bedroom that was exactly as you left it. The walking closet and the bathroom were too.

Chris wasn’t sleeping in your room, and you wondered why.

When you went downstairs, you found him making the table.

“I thought I’d made myself useful,” Chris said when he saw you.

You smiled. That was the kind of evening you used to dream about. You and your husband casually sharing dinner together.

Chris was very attentive, serving you wine, asking you if you needed anything. You wished you could be so relaxed. You wished you weren’t about to drop a massive bomb on him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping in our bedroom?”

Your question surprised you both.

“I… I don’t know. It doesn’t seem… right.”

You looked at each other, your eyes saying more than a thousand words. Again, you were reminded how easy it would be to just give in, to just come back. But it would be a temporary relief, one you would only enjoy until he’d decide to leave again.  

It took you the whole dinner, and filling the dishwasher, and watching the first part of a show to gather enough courage and tell Chris you two needed to see a therapist.

It happened before he was about to kiss you. You could feel it in his eyes, the way they became darker, and the way his body leaned closer to yours. You could feel your heart beating faster and the room suddenly feeling hotter than before.

You wanted to give in, you missed his touch, you missed his kisses. You missed sex with your husband. But you knew it would make things more difficult. Sex had never been a problem in your relationship. Actually, it made you forget about the problems. You couldn’t remember how many times you were on the verge of telling Chris you weren’t happy with the situation and totally forgot about it the minute his hands were on you.

“No,” you said, standing up.

You started walking around the room, trying to compose yourself. It was frustrating how all your perfect, well-prepared plans got ruined the second you were around Chris.

“Y/N,” Chris whispered.

“No, we are not having sex!” you half screamed.

You needed to convince not only Chris but yourself that you were not having sex tonight. But looking at him, looking at him, looking at you made things very hard, literally and figuratively speaking.

“We’re going to therapy,” you quickly said

Chris blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

You cleared your throat. “I said, we are going to therapy.”

You could tell he was surprised. You didn’t know if it was good or bad.

“Y/N… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

It was your turn to be surprised. You opened your mouth but closed it immediately after. You wanted Chris to explain himself before jumping to conclusions.

“With how public we are and…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, anger quickly possessing your whole body.

“Y/N…”

“You’re worried about your reputation? Do you even want us to be together, Chris?” you asked him.

“I’m not worried about my reputation. I’m worried about… our privacy.”

“Chris, therapists have a duty of confidentiality,” You said, raising your voice.

“Well, you won’t believe how many people would break it given the right sum,” he screamed back.

You wanted to scream, anything that would release the frustration you were feeling inside.

“Do you even want to fix this?” you ask, as calmly as you were able to

Chris huffed. “I was begging you to come home with me yesterday. Of course, I want to fix this.”

You crossed your arms. “me coming home right now would not fix things; it would bring us back to this,” you said, throwing your hands up.

“And this is so bad, right?” Chris asked, bitterness in his voice.

“No, this is perfect. This is what I want permanently. It will kill me to come back to this if this is not forever.”

The room went silent. So many emotions went through Chris’s eyes, and you were trying to decode them all.

Chris finally drew a long breath. “I am not going to couples therapy.”

His words stung more than you could have imagined. They also unleashed the silent anger that was rising inside of you since the beginning of that conversation.

But instead of screaming and crying and pleading with Chris, you reached for your handbag. You were done trying to negotiate with him. You were done trying to spare his feelings.

You removed the divorce papers that had been sitting in your bag for days now. You threw them on the coffee table near Chris and waited for him to look at them.

You could see him become very pale, and if you weren’t that angry, you would be worried.

“Are they…” He started

“Yes. Divorce papers. We go to therapy, or you sign them. It’s your choice.”

Chris was startled. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m more than serious. I have a pen if you want to sign now.”

You looked serene, but inside, your heart was dropping lower with every second Chris wasn’t doing anything. You knew you were forcing his hand, but he left you no other choice.

“So, what is it going to be, Chris?”

Chris took the divorce agreement into his hands, and you held your breath. Your heart started beating again when he tore them in half.

He gave you a deadly stare, but at this point, you didn’t care anymore. He could be angry, scream at you, even hate you, as long as it meant you were doing something to try to fix things, you could take it all.

“Text me when you find a therapist you can trust,” you said before taking your bag to leave.

If he thought you’d be the only one sweating for this, he couldn’t be more wrong. It takes two to tango. It was about damn time for Chris to act. Because you were sure that this time feeling sorry or even good sex wouldn’t fix things.

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[bas1cb01ch]

Maybe this is a good read for you like it was for me. The words say a lot that I can’t and but feel…..

1. I’m sorry about many many things I did & so much I didn’t do.

2.I’m grateful to have been loved by you once. I wasn’t ready for u cos I didn’t feel worthy of being loved so much.

3. I’m attracted to the man that you are not only your strength physically but your will to be the man that others doubted and despite all circumstances U r a great father, brother, son and a good man.

4.I’m like a school girl with butterflies whenever I hear from you. Even if we fight there is not anyone else that I’d rather talk too or grow with.

5.I’m still blown away that you are the only one in the world who has ever been able to surprise me. I wish I listened more to what you needed so I could surprise you by being someone that you could count on.

6.Im never going to forget the imperfections that made being your woman a perfect gift. I wish I could have given you more so you see the value in my flaws which outweighs my mistakes from the past.

7.I’ve never experienced so much passion with someone else. U made me feel wanted and desired. I felt sexy and comfortable in my skin but mostly I felt safe enough to follow your lead and trusted you to explore areas I’ve never been, do things I’ve never done and side of myself I never felt

8.I’m afraid I will never want to pleasure or trust to be as satisfied intimately unless it’s u

9.I’ve never been humbled enough for my pride to want to change into being a better woman until I meet you. U inspired me to a better woman and to fear God and the Bible’s truth.

10.I miss when i don’t hear about your day. And I’m brought to tears when u don’t respond back knowing you got my message.

11.I’ve never had so much given and not been able to give them back anything in return.

12. I answer everything you ask not being defensive or honor you by being as open with you as possible . I’ve tried my best even if it’s too late.

13.Im embarrassed that the 1 person who does know the “real me” would rather be alone or must have a “good reason” to spend time with me.

14. I agree Setting boundaries in your life is beneficial for your health mind and body. I wish you for everyone else only allowing you to know the whole real me

15. I regret what I did said in anger and immaturity when I did not say anything.

16. Being weak and needy when I meant to show that trust u enough to be venerable. I needed help and believed u will teach me everything you know and honor me with the truthful reality of life situations

17. Ive let my guard down exposing myself in a way that was confusing, irritating, mean at times and it was unfair to you. I’m sorry I didn’t express how i really felt and respond to you with the respect & love I have to you wish u also deserved. I honestly never had bad intentions even though many problems were miss understandings I should’ve done better at being proactive instead of reactive.

18. I should have set boundaries that were righteous not selfish and disciplined enough to keep them because now strangers u r alone and confides in strangers instead of being with family and people who love u

I didn’t want to lose your respect but continuing to be mistreated and trying to be understanding when I was not being understood brought nothing of any value into your life enough of love was there

We both have been working on being better and I’m proud of you especially since you have been doing it on your own.

I’m so proud of you with what you’ve already accomplished in life and excited for your future and the you that you to will be proud of.

I’m blessed every day with your presence even if it’s only though my prayers.

Im forever in your debt and will stand up for u even if u r wrong. We could never speak again but know u have my loyalty & can call me anytime from anywhere for anything. Not only because that’s how I was raised but I know that’s how I was created.

God doesn’t make mistakes. I know this only because you shared your faith with me.

We are connected for life even if we don’t know why or understand why we are.

I only know that everything was worth it for me meant pray for you always

I didn’t want to lose your respect I lost t bring your life enough value in return.

We both have been working on being better and I’m proud of you especially since you have been doing it on your own.

I’m so proud of you with what you’ve already accomplished in life and excited for your future and the you that you to will be proud of.

I’m blessed every day with your presence even if it’s only though my prayers. I want to be with you but I don’t want to beg want you to want me. Love me and respect me.

Im forever in your debt and will stand up for u even if u r wrong. We could never speak again but know u have my loyalty & can call me anytime from anywhere for anything. Not only because that’s how I was raised but I know that’s how I was created.

God doesn’t make mistakes. I know this only because you shared your faith with me. We are connected for life even if we don’t know why or understand why we are.

I only know that everything was worth it for me even though I am alone in the end and hurt beyond belief your actions are inexcusable but I forgive you and I also want to forgive myself.

I will always love you and who knows maybe when you read this u too will be at a place of maturity to forgive yourself and me. I hope for the day we can put this pain away and bring everything we learned to a place where God can rebuild us as individuals and honest LT us as a couple.

I will pray for you always and want you to release everything that doesn’t give you peace and happiness even if that means letting go of me. We all deserve love and if I can’t love u correctly I want you to find someone who does and that the rest of your life is 100x better than the it’s been

[aminiatureworld]

Distance II

Characters: Ningguang, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,605

Warnings: None

Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.

In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.

Author’s Note: Though Ningguang is hands down one of my favorite characters I find her surprisingly difficult to write. She just seems so much more in control than I am. Perhaps though that makes writing her in conflict all the more rewarding.

Ningguang

Sometimes Ningguang wondered if she wasn’t accidentally proving her detractors right by not caring.

Being the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing it’d be nearly impossible for her not to hear the rumors that circulated about her, the not-so-quiet whisperings of people who found her too cold, too callous, too closed off to have any genuine feelings. Nor were such incidents limited to the murmurings of coworkers or the blunt admissions of Keqing. Ningguang had long ago lost track of the times she’d passed someone on the street, only to find someone proclaiming how unfit she was to represent Liyue, she who had no genuine feelings.

Of course, Ningguang couldn’t truly complain. Even if people saw her as aloof and shallow, she was still given the respect due to her position. Nor could the privilege and power of being the Tianquan be overstated. Really, being isolated in such a way was just the price she had to pay for her success. What did it really matter what the general population thought of her personally as long as they respected her competency? Besides, she didn’t have time for close interpersonal relationships.

Perhaps it was this thinking that had ruled her for so long that made you so special in her eyes. Though you would later admit that you had worried your feelings had been one-sided, Ningguang had been just as captivated with you as you of her. Incredibly competent at your job, as devoted to Liyue as Ningguang was, and deeply empathetic on top of it, how could Ningguang not grow somewhat infatuated with you? She had never expected the same emotion on your side, just as you had never expected such a thing of her; not because you saw Ningguang as made of ice or stone, it was merely the natural nervousness that always came with love. Perhaps that was the part of your confession that Ningguang appreciated the most. To you she was just as normal as anyone else, with a heart made out of the same flesh as all the other residents of Liyue.

Yet being in a relationship had proved a much greater challenge than Ningguang expected, and in the place one was least likely to think about. Her love for you was never in question, the devotion you two shared towards one another was something spelled out plainly in front of her eyes. Nor did she worry about providing for you, or you for her. Being both high ranking members of the Liyue Qixing, the two of you were incredibly lucky, and finances and worries about saving was never something that Ningguang had to lose sleep over. No, it was none of those normal things that Ningguang had to worry about, instead it was herself.

She had expected that all the whisperings about her emotional capabilities would have left once the word of you two being partners got around. Instead the whispers seemed all the greater, swirling around her at every turn. Though logically that could not be the case, Ningguang found that logic ultimately played a very little role in the matter of love and affection. Even when she wasn’t haunted by the whispers of others she found herself more and more facing her own words. How could someone so closed off and reserved be a good partner, her mind seemed to whisper, how could she possibly give you the affection and warmth you deserved? Ningguang never told you these thoughts of course, her anxiety seizing her whenever the idea so much as passed through her head. Still those thoughts lingered.

And then work got busier; well, busier for her at least. For you things seemed to remain about the same, and though Ningguang was somewhat grateful for that – knowing that overworking oneself was a bit of a theme for members of the Liyue Qixing – she still found herself uncomfortable at the new schedule. Now instead of the two of your finishing up at around the same time, it seemed like you always had to hold back and wait for her. It was embarrassing, really; more than that it felt unfair to you.

“Should I reschedule the dinner reservations tonight?” Your question hung over the desk that separated the two of you, paper piled up like a wall between you and her.

“I’m afraid so, I’m sorry darling.” Ningguang offered an awkward smile.

“Don’t be sorry! It’s not your fault that you have so much work. I’ll go down and tell the waitress during lunch break, we should be able to get a refund, and maybe a reschedule. After all, we haven’t been out together in so long.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you leaned over the desk, too blocked by the papers to give her the traditional comfort kiss on her cheek, “you have a very important job, and no one could fault you for it.”

Despite your words Ningguang couldn’t help but feel somewhat chastised. Bowing her head she whispered a soft “thank you”, wondering how much you were hiding your true feelings. Keeping her head mostly down at her work for the rest of the morning the Tianquan was startled by the realization she hadn’t noticed you leaving for lunch.

“Unfortunately I was unable to get a refund,” your apologetic voice floated through the air as you reentered the office, “so I was wondering whether or not I could bring a friend out to dinner tonight? Of course I would pay for the whole thing myself, and we could still reschedule. Although maybe next time let’s pick a restaurant without an all-or-nothing view on payment.”

“A good idea about the payments,” Ningguang smiled awkwardly, ill at ease despite your slight laughter, “and of course you may invite a friend out for dinner. I know that we’ll find another time.”

“You’re an absolute darling you know!” You walked around the desk giving Ningguang a fleeting kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“How could I not be when I’m the reason we can’t go out this evening?”

“Well, I don’t know. Some people aren’t so nice about those things you know.”

“I hope to never be involved with those people.”

“You’re right about that!” You laughed, bringing a small smile to Ningguang’s face. Still, a part of her felt leaden, her embarrassment and guilt weighing her down like a rock.

Afterwards it seemed that a bit of a routine had been found in your life. After your work was done and your errands finished you laughed awkwardly, gave Ningguang a short kiss, and went out to spend time with your friends. Not that Ningguang begrudged you the time you spent with others, she wasn’t about to ask you to spend all your time with her, especially when most of it would be spent staring at her reading. Still it was hard not to see these continual outings as further proof of how little affection Ningguang was giving you, how much she was failing at providing you all the love and emotional support you needed.

Walking down the streets to your house Ningguang took in the sight of Liyue in the evening. It was her favorite time of day; the lanterns turned the normally drab grey stones into burnisheds amber, basking the buildings with a soft orange glow that gave the illusion of perfect domesticity. It was easy to forget the troubles of Liyue in the evening, easy to be wrapped up in the landscape in front of the Tianquan, easy to ignore her troubles. Passing by the docks Ningguang breathed in the scent of a trading city at work. Smells, sights, and conversations mixed together in a familiar dance, lively despite the lateness of the hour.

“Did you see the Tianquan’s partner was out again this evening?”

Ningguang found herself standing perfectly still, unsure if the words that she had just heard weren’t a figment of her exhausted imagination. Turning towards the stalls she was careful to keep her pace as even as possible, hoping that her presence would go largely unnoticed.

“Oh yes, I saw them walking along the shipyard with a few people. You could tell it wasn’t on business.”

“I feel bad for them,” the first voice piped up again, voice heavy with authority, “to have a block of ice as a partner, it must be very difficult.”

“You’re right, the poor dear. Honestly I don’t know why they decided to become partners with such a person as Lady Ningguang, I heard that she was the one confessed to even. Why anyone would actively cultivate such a relationship, I don’t understand it.”

“Neither do I. They must be very used to living without affection.”

“You’re probably right, it always ends up that way with those types of relationships.”

Although the conversation showed no signs of ending Ningguang found herself turning around and leaving. The words had felt like a slap in the face, and she felt almost feverish in her wish for the conversation to have never happened.

Once she arrived at your home Ningguang rushed to the bedroom, collapsing onto the soft sheets. You, she realized that she wanted you; wanted to tell you what had just happened, wanted you to assure her it was all false, wanted all this insecurity to go away. And yet, how could she be sure that you weren’t thinking a similar thing as those people Ningguang had overheard? How could she be sure you hadn’t come to the conclusion that she was indeed without feeling. There was only one way to figure it out really, no matter how painful.

“I’m home!” Your voice was bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to Ningguang’s current emotional state.

“Welcome home dear.”

“Oh I’m exhausted, I think I’m taking a bath and going right to bed tonight! You should probably sleep too, you’ve really been overworking yourself!” You chastised, giving Ningguang an impatient sort of smile as you put away your things. Taking a deep breath Ningguang prepared herself.

“Before you do that, there is something I’d like to ask you.”

“Ask away! Unless you’re asking for me to cook, I think I’m too tired for that.”

“It’s not about cooking. It’s, well, it’s whether this relationship is fulfilling or not to you.”

“What?” The happiness leeched from your voice as you stared at Ningguang.

“I heard some people talking today, saying that I wasn’t a worthy partner, that I was too emotionally detached. I know that you have never expressed such an opinion, but I cannot help but wonder if I’m truly giving you what people want in a relationship. You said yourself that we hardly spend time together anymore, and I know how much you value quality time. As such, I feel that I have to lay out all your options. If you feel that this relationship is no longer viable, then I understand.”

“Ningguang what in Teyvat are you talking about?” You burst out. Swiftly closing the distance between you two, you intertwined your fingers with Ningguang’s. “You don’t really think that I would share the opinion of some people who know nothing about you and us do you?”

“It’s not just them!” Ningguang pointed out. “I’ve heard the same things from colleagues. Besides this wasn’t brought on all of a sudden. For a while now I’ve been wondering if I truly have the capacity to make you happy.”

“Well let me clear that up immediately, the answer is yes.”

You stared into Ningguang’s eyes, expression one of stubborn surety. There was no sense of doubt in your posture or your voice. For the first time in a while Ningguang found herself somewhat calm.

“Let me tell you something Ningguang, relationships aren’t the same for everyone, nor is love. Some people need huge declarations of love, need to always be attached to their partner, need a constant supply of affection. And some need only small gestures, shorter periods of time, a softer form of support. Neither of these are inherently better than the other. Just because we don’t go out to eat every night, just because you place care and effort into your work and choose to spend your time on it, that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you any less, or that your love doesn’t reach me. I’m proud of your work, I’m proud to call my partner the Tianquan; and if other people cannot understand or accept that, then frankly I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” You let out a laugh, throwing your arms around your partner. “My mind is very made up on this. Besides, you’re much more affectionate than you let on.”

It was as if she’d been suddenly freed from a cage, so immediate was the relief that washed over Ningguang. Returning the embrace she sighed softly, overwhelmed by the love and confidence in your words.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t thank me for anything, you would do the exact same for me.”

“Perhaps you’re right, but thank you nevertheless. Thank you.”

“Well then you’re welcome; though I would do anything for the woman I love.”

“I love you too.”

There was nothing more to say.

 Zhongli

“I hope that it ends soon.”

Those words had sent Zhongli spiraling, reeling as the ground crumbled beneath him and he plunged into some dark unknown. How had he gotten here, it didn’t seem to make sense.

He hadn’t wanted to step upon your freedom, to limit you in any way. Though Zhongli wasn’t perhaps the greatest expert on human feelings, he knew that in one way they differed greatly from archons and adepti. Humans always vied for freedom. The freedom to choose, the freedom to do, the freedom to go or stay. While the gods always found any sort of profound change incredibly difficult, an erosion on their power and their influence, humans craved the ways that time waxed and waned, the world with it.

As such he didn’t attempt to put any sort of confinement on your relationship. Being the first human Zhongli had had any meaningful emotional contact with, he was absolutely determined that your relationship should be framed around your needs, which were certainly more demanding as a human being than Zhongli’s could ever be. Not that he ever found himself lacking, indeed it seemed sometimes to the ex-archon as if you were more aware of what his wishes were than he was of yours. When he needed assurance you were there, when something required some sort of explanation or reiteration you were glad to provide it. No matter the time or the place or the setting you were liberal with your love. Zhongli could only hope he provided the same for you.

Perhaps that was why your words surprised him so much. Zhongli knew that your friend was coming over for tea, and had made an effort to leave the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor earlier than usual, much to the annoyance of his pseudo-employer. Though he expect you to be earlier than him, he certainly hadn’t expected your sudden volte-face, the sudden revelation that all was not well.

Not that he could ask about your statement while your friend was visiting, the ex-archon knew that you hated a scene as much as he did, and he doubted he’d be able to get an honest answer out of you with an audience watching. So as he entered, making sure to make as much noise as possible to alert you of his arrival, he tried to bury the sentence in the back of his mind, hoping that it would stay put as long as possible.

Thankfully for Zhongli it is much easier to be patient when one is an immortal former deity. Though time certainly seemed slower than usual, the conversation you and your friend had more difficult to follow than usual, it was nothing that he couldn’t handle. Letting you and your friend chat about anything from work to pets to weather, only interrupting when asked about the tea, Zhongli spent the afternoon turning over your words in his head, and wondering what he was going to say.

Finally the sun dipped behind the buildings, and as the long shadows of evening began to cast themselves down your friend left. Keeping himself as formal as possible during the entire encounter Zhongli let out a soft sigh when the door closed behind them. Even if what was to come was not something he was particularly looking forward to, Zhongli had long ago learned that immediate pain is better than drawn out suffering.

“You were awfully quiet this afternoon.” You pointed out, going to clear up the plates.

“I, I had not noticed. I am sorry.”

“It’s fine, I know that they’re a bit of a talker anyways. Still I was hoping you might say more, my friends already ask me about your reticence, and I don’t want to feed their imaginations.”

“My apologies, I will try to do better.”

“Don’t sweat it really, I’m just rambling.” You smiled as Zhongli began to put away the tea set. “I always love watching you clean the china, it’s so peaceful to watch.”

“I am glad you enjoy it so much,” Zhongli replied, careful to keep his hands from trembling. The conversation loomed ahead of him, dark and unfamiliar, and he didn’t want to break anything in the process. “I, uh, I noticed that you were discussing something when I walked in.”

“I’m sorry we started before you, I didn’t know how long Hu Tao would hold you up. She’s surprisingly persuasive, at least when she’s not selling coffins.” You let out a giggle.

“In light of your conversation, I would like to offer you something.”

“Yes?” You furrowed your brow, evidently puzzled.

“I would like to offer you an end to our relationship.”

“Excuse me?” Your mouth dropped open as you jolted up suddenly in your chair. “What, why? I… what?”

“I do not wish to cause you any pain by forcing you to draw this out. If you wish for things to end quickly, then you ought not to worry about stalling. I promise that I will not contain you.”

“Zhongli, I don’t understand what you’re saying?” Your voice sounded very raw. “Are you saying, are you saying that you don’t want to be in a relationship anymore.”

“No.” Zhongli replied slowly, feeling as if the situation had altogether managed to reverse itself. “I am only saying that if I am tying you down, that if I am no longer making you happy, then you do not have to continue this relationship.”

“Zhongli, I don’t understand why you would ever think that I would want that.”

“But you said ‘I hope that it ends soon’.”

For a moment you stared at your partner, but then something seemed to overtake you and you began to laugh, an awkward sound stranded between relief and humor.

“A commission I was talking about a commission! There’s this tradesman who is trying to set up some sort of security measures with the Guild while he’s stopped in Liyue, and it’s taking up most of my time. It’s why I haven’t visited you at the Funeral Parlor recently as well. Believe me Zhongli, I would never want to break up with you, the idea of doing so makes me miserable.”

“Ah, I see.”

Zhongli wasn’t sure whether he should feel overwhelming relief or embarrassment. That question was put off however as you walked over to where he was sitting and threw your arms around him. Returning the embrace Zhongli pressed soft kisses all over your face. Relief washed over him, and he felt almost dizzy with relief. Though he had tried to tell himself that he wouldn’t let his own emotions rob you of your agency, now that the moment had passed the ex-archon could admit how truly shaken he was, and how much the idea of his days spend utterly devoid of your presence seemed unbearably lonely.

“I still don’t know how you ever jumped to such a conclusion.” You mumbled, leaning over to press a soft kiss on Zhongli’s lips.

The rest of the evening had been spent in a revery of frantic relief, both of you unwilling to stray very far from each other’s arms. Now the two of you lay tangled in bed together, overlapping limbs a solid reminder that all was well with the world.

“I do not want to rob you of your agency,” Zhongli replied, “I fear that I will tie you down. I know that the gods are old and staid, and unlikely to change. I know as well that humans often find such atmospheres stifling, and I fear that one day such a thing will come to pass.”

“Just because humans change their minds easily or want to travel or grow or whatever doesn’t mean that they don’t need an anchor,” you pointed out, voice heavy with fatigue, “we all need somewhere to go back to, we all need a home. You’re my home Zhongli, I never want to leave you.”

“You are my home as well. And I wish not to leave you either.”

“I’m glad the matter is settled then.” You smiled softly, before finally closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

“As am I.”

Zhongli lay awake a while, listening to the soft cadence of your breath. You had said it was humans that needed an anchor, but perhaps immortal beings did too. After all, you were the thing that kept Zhongli tethered to the world and the humans around him, and he loved you all the more for it.

[yandere-sins]

Hey there^^ Haven't done a request for quite a while but I'm pretty stuck myself and I could really use something to lift my mood, too, and your writing always does that :) So, I thought of Satan or Lucifer with prompt 3 and 34, maybe? If it's not too much it'd be nice if the reader could be rather anxious (my anxiety is really acting up these days .-.) but that's not that important

Have a nice day and stay healthy ^^

Blue

Hi Blue! Thank you for requesting ^-^ I decided to do some Satan bc I have another Lucifer request and this way we can have some variety :D Please enjoy! ^-^

Pills - “Be a good girl and sit still. You don’t want me to be unhappy right?”

Stickers - “One more time. I’m giving you one more chance to stop fucking resisting.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

“Be a good girl and sit still. You don’t want me to be unhappy, right?”

His demand sounded reasonable, and his voice was calm. Still, the hand clutching your thigh was too rough with your skin, the fingers digging into it painfully. Immediately, you stopped bopping your foot, a nervous habit you hadn’t even noticed you started.

How long had you been sitting in his lap for now? An hour? Two? It felt like the whole morning and was probably more like the entire day, but through the partially hidden window in Satan’s room, you couldn’t make out the time of day, even if the Devildom had varying daytime-lightning outside. But this way, you could only count the pages Satan had already read as any indications of time, even though it wasn’t a reliable source.

Clenching your fists on top of your legs, you wondered what else there was you could do. Perhaps it was one thing to read the day away, but it was an entirely different one when you were just the lapdog to someone doing it. Even if you showed interest in books, Satan preferred to keep you close to him, and unfortunately, his favorite reading chair didn’t allow two people to read comfortably. That, and the constant fear you might actually find something useful to slip out of his grip, made him decide that you could read only with him or not at all.

It was just a problem that the language of the book he was reading wasn’t one you could understand.

All you were reduced to was a stiff, anxious, warm body sitting on top of him, hoping that soon Satan would decide to do anything else. You couldn’t live with his suggestions of taking baths together or being left alone for hours to no end while he took care of daily business, but this was the third day in a row where things were simply... too calm.

You had been quick to cease bringing up arguments. Satan had scared you once when he grew angry before your life took this turn by his side. Still, it was nothing compared to the violent and oppressive force he used on you now when you acted ‘unsuitable’, as he called it. Part of you wanted nothing more than to scratch his face, bite and kick, but when you brought up the courage to stand up for yourself and your rights, his exuding magic alone made you crumble to your knees in primal, inferior fear, knowing all the bad things he would do to you if you pushed it any more than you already had.

Wherever he took the patience from, it was wearing thin regardless of its masses.

That, and that alone, was the reason you even listened to what he said.

Looking down at yourself, you might not have been able to see any bruises left on you, but you felt them in every flinching of your muscles. The soreness, the pain - they never disappeared, and Satan wasn’t going to help you forget by applying magic to heal them.

Instead, he caressed your thigh with his hand, fingers circling over your skin menacingly. Perhaps from an outside view, it looked almost sweet, but you felt nothing short of a warning from his touch. Every touch was calculated. A game. Maybe he truly wanted to help you calm, but you wouldn’t have put it past Satan to actually try and provoke you to do something stupid. It was his way of forgiving the bad things he did to you, much like an eye for an eye. He disapproved of many things, but he couldn’t quite justify his actions if you didn’t act up. Satan swore up and down that he preferred cats over dogs, but god beware you’d behave like one. Unknown sadistic tendencies seemed to ride him when it came to you, and from what you understood, you were his place of comfort and peace when you were in his arms and his punchbag if you made his days worse than they needed to be.

But arguably, you were just his; all he needed, either way.

Worse thoughts crossed your mind than this. Ideas of how similar he was to Lucifer when it came to oppressing, but you would have taken the eldest brother’s help without even a moment of hesitation. At the same time, you wanted nothing more than to get away from Satan. 

Encountering a sudden change of mood was what you feared the most. It happened too often. Satan wasn’t that hard to please, but he unexpectedly and sharply changed moods for no apparent reasons, just like a teenager.

What if he read a passage in his book he disliked? What if your foot began to bop again? What if your breathing was too loud? What if he decided you were too heavy... When would it stop? When would the worries finally go away?

He loved you. He told you he loved you, so why were you a prisoner in his room? Why did he refuse to let you go? See other people? Sleep in your own bed for a change? And why was he enraged every time such a wish crossed your mind?

The book in his hand lowered as you sunk deeper and deeper into your panicked thoughts, wondering what you should do from now on to stay on his good side and maybe regain your privileges. So many emotions fogged your senses; you didn’t even hear him take a deep breath as his eyes narrowed while they focused on your leg, nervously bopping up and down again.

However, you did notice the sudden jerk as he threw you off his lap, pain shooting through your body as you scrapped your knees on the floor. You hit the stacks of books Satan threw you into, hardcovers falling down on you, making you yelp as they felt like bombs raining down onto your body.

“What’s the matter this time?” he asked, standing up and closing the book. It took a lot of courage to look up at him, Satan’s pretty face and perfect posture as intimidating as the waspish shine in his deep green eyes. You perceived it as cold and belittling as he looked down on you, standing over your legs.

“I want to go home--” you whispered, close to tears as you averted your eyes from his, unable to look at him when he glared back at you so resentfully.

“[Name],” he called out to you in the most condescending way you could imagine someone speaking your name. However, you no longer could bear looking him in the eyes, and so, you let your head hang low, expecting the worst but hoping it was over soon.

“How long will you keep complaining. I was so good to you the last few days, wasn’t I? It’s all because you said you were unhappy with me, so I bettered myself, yet, you behave just the same. When will you realize this is home?”

Hearing this from him, you felt your heart break. Hearing that this dangerous, painful situation should be a norm and comfort for you made you want to throw up. But at the same time, it rose your spirits, and before you knew it, you were back on your wobbling feet, the pain being suppressed by adrenaline as you grabbed Satan by the collar. In retrospect, you realized you had been just like a frightened animal and snapped as he came too close for comfort.

“THIS ISN’T MY HOME! YOU ARE KEEPING ME HERE AGAINST MY WILL! WAKE UP, SATAN!” you screamed at him as loud as you could. Perhaps you wished for a stunned realization overcoming him, or maybe that someone else could hear you outside this little, private room. But it wasn’t like anyone came running to help anyway.

Instant regret flooded your mind as you felt his hands grip your wrists, the book he had held onto falling to the ground with a loud thud. A zip of magic sparked from where he grabbed you, burning through your body like venom. It was no question who was the stronger animal in this struggle, your body falling back and down into the pile of books with just one step Satan took forward. But with your hands still anchored in his clothes, you pulled him with you, and on top, giving him a chance to pin you down on the uncomfortable bed of books.

Though it felt like your bones were breaking under the pressure and awkward position, your will hadn’t been affected as much yet, your body instinctively pushing against him, even though it was futile.

“One more time. I’m giving you one more chance to stop fucking resisting.” The words escaped him through clenched teeth, a hostile fire flickering in his eyes that you were forced to stare into. You knew you had it coming for you. His rage. His anger. There was no way out now, and once again, you had made the situation worse for you than needed. Finally, as you felt your ragged breath fill your lungs unreliably, you calmed down, tears shooting to your eyes while the sobs escaped from your mouth.

For a minute or two Satan merely let you bawl it out, the streams of tears falling down your cheeks and onto the books beneath you, but it was of no concern to either of you. At least now, he didn’t tell you to cease your sadness too, and you realized all he wanted was for you to stop attacking him, even if it was unfair when he apparently was allowed to.

Instead, you found yourself being scooped into his arms, face pressed into his shoulder as you hugged him instinctively. His hold was right out of a book about how to console crying children, his hands perfectly falling to your head and back, calmingly rubbing over the hurt part of your body.

“Please...” you sobbed into his shirt.

“I love you. I will always love you, even if you do this to me,” he assured you. You didn’t want it. Not his love, not being held by him like this, not him playing the victim in this scenario. As if it was your fault he had to do these terrible things.

“Just... please...”

“Forever. We will stay together.”

His words did nothing to help you, even more crying ensuring as they laid down heavily on your mind.

“You’re all I have. All that only belongs to me,” Satan whispered while you shook your head softly, rubbing in the wet stains into his clothes and wishing it was all just a nightmare that you could wake up from.

“That’s why, from now on, I will be the only one for you as well.”

But you never woke up from it.

[You can find the prompt list here]

[triptuckers]

Facing reality - Jesper Fahey

Request: nope Pairing:  Jesper Fahey x reader Summary:  you’re absolutely broken after you lose jesper. but there might be one thing that could cheer you up  Warnings: mentions of death, lots of angst, grieving, yall are gonna hate me so much for this one alsdfsdfj Word count:  2.5K of sad, sad angst  A/N: why do I do this to myself you might ask? I have no fucking clue. anyways enjoy reading?? I guess ?? 

Inej walks through the door, and you expect Jesper to follow her, cheerfully announcing their arrival. But something’s wrong. Inej is leaning heavily to one side, and she looks very pale.

But more importantly, Jesper doesn’t follow her.

She walks to the table you’re sitting at, and Matthias helps her sit down. Nina immediately starts to treat her injuries, and Inej turns to you.

‘We got separated.’ she says. You can see in her eyes how sorry she is, the guilt eating away at her. ‘I kept searching for him, but I couldn’t find him. I had to come back, I would’ve collapsed.’ 

As she’s speaking, you feel the colour draining from your face. You realise your worst fear had become reality. You’d lost your light, you’d lost Jesper. Inej and Jesper got separated and if Inej couldn’t find him, you doubted anyone could. 

But the least you could do is try. 

After Nina had finished taking care of Inej, you were out the door, heading to the place where Inej and Jesper had been. There had to be a sign of him. Something that could lead you to him. He couldn’t just disappear like that. He couldn’t leave you behind so easily.

The crows help you search for him. The next days you barely see the Slat or the Crow Club, you’re out on the street all day. You search everywhere, you feel like you’ve seen every corner of the city. But there’s no sign of Jesper.

One by one, they all stopped searching. Too much time had passed, they had looked everywhere. The chances of finding him were getting smaller and smaller. 

But you couldn’t just give up like that. You’re the only one who keeps going. You had to find a sign of him, you had to know the truth. You couldn’t face reality just yet, not when there is a possibility Jesper is still somewhere.

Jesper was your everything, you couldn’t do this without him. You didn’t know how to. You were afraid what would happen to you if you were on your own, without Jesper by your side.

When you were the only one still searching for a sign of him, each of the crows tried to get you to realise the truth. But you were denying all of their claims, telling them people in the Barrel knew how to hide their tracks, but that there had to be at least something. A lead, even if it was a small one. One mistake they made was all you needed.

You barely sleep, going over every part of the city you’ve searched in your mind. You’re ignoring your duties, even if Kaz asks you to join him for an important job, you refuse. You’re only focused on Jesper, and on finding him. You get so caught up in it, you start to ignore everything and everyone.

You’re out the door at the first light of day, and don’t return until it’s deep into the night. You fall down on your bed, completely drained, only to lay awake and continue the search in the morning.

The others are still trying to get you to see the truth, but you refuse to listen to them, let alone believe them.

It takes weeks, but eventually Kaz is the one to get through to you.

You’re on your way out the door, after a quick breakfast. Just as you’re about to walk through the door and head outside, Kaz appears in front of you. 

You don’t even look at him as you move to walk past him, but he stops you with his cane, strategically planting it between you and the door.

‘We need to talk.’ he says.

‘I don’t think we do.’ you say.

‘It wasn’t a request, Y/N.’ he says. ‘Upstairs.’ 

In that moment, you’re seriously considering just shoving him aside and walking out the door anyway. But when you look at his eyes, you see something you had never seen in them before. Worry. 

Kaz sees you hesitating, and starts to walk up the stairs. After some time, you decide to follow him. 

When you get to his office, he’s sitting behind his desk. Kaz gestures for you to sit down and you do so, after closing the door. You look at him, waiting for him to talk.

‘I know how you feel.’ says Kaz.

You scoff and open your mouth to protest, but Kaz holds up a hand, cutting you off.

‘I once lost someone close to me as well.’ he says. 

His words catch you off guard. You didn’t know this. 

‘I still miss him every day. I think about him every day. I know this is not something you want to hear, but you have to accept the fact Jesper’s not coming back.’ says Kaz.

‘But he-’ ‘Is gone, Y/N. You have to admit that to yourself. You lost Jesper. Don’t lose yourself as well.’ 

You look at him, not knowing what to say. Most of the times, Kaz is right. you can’t deny that. But this time, you don’t want him to be right. Still, he seems sincere, talking about the person he lost. 

Part of you tells you that you can’t give up. That you need to be out there, searching for Jesper. But you’ve been searching for so long. And there hasn’t been the slightest trace of him. Maybe Kaz is right. Maybe they all are.

Jesper is gone. And he’s not coming back to you. 

Your body feels like lead when you walk down the stairs. Your mind feels empty and it isn’t until you look up, that you realise you walked to Jesper’s room instead of your own. An old habit. 

You look at the door and think back to all the times you walked through it. Nights after a tiring job, but Jesper was still making jokes, if only to hear your laugh. Or when you’d sneak downstairs to get a cup of coffee and trying to be quiet as you opened the door again, not wanting to wake him. 

With a heavy heart, you push the door open. It’s still the same as it was on the morning Inej and Jesper left for their job. The bed is a mess, the blankets crumbled into a big pile, and one of the pillows is on the floor. 

You had spent so many nights talking to him, laughing with him as he held you close. So many mornings you’d woken up next to him, arms wrapped around each other. You’d never wake up next to him again.

Tears fill your eyes as you fully realise you’d never see him again. Jesper wouldn’t be there to make you laugh. You would no longer be able to cuddle for five more minutes in the morning. He’d no longer whisper words of affection in your ear. 

It all seemed so unfair. Why did it have to be that specific job that went wrong? Why did Jesper have to be the one to not make it back? Why did he have to leave you behind?

It seemed like hours later when you finally leave his room. You feel numb as you make your way to your own room. Everything suddenly felt so heavy. 

Even though it’s barely morning, you pull off your boots and lay down in bed. Your thoughts are filled with memories of Jesper and countless what ifs when you finally fall into a troubled sleep.

When you wake, it’s well into the afternoon. You’re hungry, but don’t have the energy to get up and go downstairs. You move to roll over to your other side, but stop when you notice tear stains on your pillow. Had you been crying in your sleep?

You shake your head and try to drown out the thoughts of Jesper. It was no use thinking of him. No good would come from it. You roll over and try to focus on everything else but Jesper. But time after time, your mind finds its way back to him. 

You spend the next days like that. You don’t know how much time has passed. You lay in bed, and the other crows try to get you to get up and do something. 

But you’re exhausted. From not sleeping and all of the grieving. It’s hard. You wonder if you could ever go back to the person you were before you met Jesper. You wonder if that person even exists. It didn’t surprise you if you’d never be able to accept it. 

You’ve lost all track of time when a hard knocking on your door wakes you. 

You roll over, pulling the blanket up to cover your ears. You appreciated your friends, but they could really be a pain in the ass. You didn’t want to get up, and they knew it. Why on earth would they bang on your door like that?

‘Y/N!’ 

It’s Nina. Only you don’t know why she’s knocking. Inej is the only one who knocks. The others, like Nina, don’t even bother anymore. They just enter your room because they know you’re laying in bed and not getting up.

‘Get up!’ says Nina loudly, still knocking on the door.

‘Get lost Nina!’ you shout back at her, pulling the blanket up so it covers your entire head. You really didn’t feel like fighting today.

‘Open up!’ she says.

‘No.’ you say. ‘You can just let yourself in.’

‘Not doing that today!’ she says, and she starts to knock louder. ‘I can stand here all day. I'll have Inej bring up food and drinks. I'm gonna be here a long time, Y/N!’

You groan and cover your ears with your hands. It doesn’t exactly help. You can still hear her knocking loudly on your door. Maybe if you ignored her, she’d eventually go away.

But Nina is determined. She doesn’t stop knocking, not even when someone else outside your room shouts at her to stop. If she didn’t stop soon, someone was actually going to make her do so. Probably by using their fists rather than their words.

You sigh heavily and push the blanket off of you. You rub your hands over your face and get up. Your hair is a mess and you’re dressed in a comfortable pair of pants and one of Jesper’s old shirts. You couldn’t bear the thought of him not being around, and the scent of his clothing gave you comfort.

Nina is still knocking loudly on the door when you open it, annoyance written all over your face. Nina looks like the exact opposite of you, a bright smile on her face. 

‘What.’ you say, glaring at her.

‘You look awful.’ is the first thing she says.

‘Great. Thanks.’ you say sarcastically and you close the door, but Nina plants her foot in front of it. 

‘I didn’t just want you to get up so I could tell you that you should take a shower.’ says Nina. ‘I've got something that might cheer you up!’

‘Pass.’ you say. 

‘Just hear me out.’ says Nina.

‘Nina, I appreciate it, but I doubt there’s anything that could make me happy right now.’ you say.  

‘And yet I am known for my miracles.’ she says, still smiling happily. 

You sigh and roll your eyes. ‘You got me out of bed, that’s not a miracle but just a result of you being annoying.’ you say. 

‘Behold.’ she says dramatically. ‘My miracle work at its finest.’

She reaches out to something next to her, and pulls it toward her.

You feel like your heart stops and all the air has disappeared from your lungs. It’s another nightmare. Saints, you have to wake up now. You can’t do it anymore.

Jesper is standing next to Nina, grinning down at you. 

You stare up at him, wide eyed. He’s got a scar on his cheek that wasn’t there before. There’s bags under his eyes, and his clothes are messy and there are stains all over them. Somehow he still manages to look good.

‘Hello, love.’ he says.

Tears slowly fall down your cheek as you reach out to touch him. The second you feel his skin when you put your hand on his cheek, the tears start to stream down your cheeks.

‘Don’t cry now, darling. You’ll mess up your beautiful face.’ he says with a wink.

Your knees give out and you let out a choked sob. It’s really him.

Jesper is quick to catch you, pulling you up as he steadies the two of you.

‘It’s alright.’ he says softly. ‘I've got you, I'm here.’

‘I thought you were dead.’ you choke out, clutching onto him, holding on for dear life, as if he’d vanish if you let him go. You repeat the words over and over again as Jesper slowly rubs circles on your back to calm you down.

‘I'm right here, I'm alright.’ he says. ‘I'm not going anywhere.’

You slightly pull back so you can look up at him. Jesper removes one hand from your back to wipe the tears off of your cheeks.

‘Is it weird that I still think you’re the most gorgeous person I've ever seen, even though your eyes are all red and puffy?’ he says, making you chuckle.

‘I don’t get it.’ you say. ‘I couldn’t find you. I was looking for you, I couldn’t find you.’

‘Nasty slavers.’ says Jesper. ‘Very good at hiding their tracks. They didn’t think I could make it out. But they forgot to keep in mind I'd worked countless of jobs with Kaz. I'm no master thief, but I can pick some locks.’

Jesper looks down at you and smiles. Just as you smile back at him, his smile turns into a frown.

‘I'm sorry.’ he says.

‘For what?’ you ask him.

‘Not being able to come back to you sooner.’ he says. ‘I really tried, I'm sorry it took so long.’

You reach out to hold his face in both of your hands. ‘Jesper, I thought I'd lost you. But you’re here. Please don’t apologise.’ 

He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours and you close your eyes.

‘Now, a little birdie told me you haven’t left your room in weeks.’ says Jesper. 

You pull back and glare at Nina.

‘He asked about you, what was I supposed to say?’ she says.

‘Let’s get you into some decent clothing and fix your hair, and we can go downstairs and get you some coffee, alright?’ says Jesper. 

‘Alright.’ you say. 

You take a few steps back, into your room. Jesper follows you and closes the door. He walks over to your closet to get you some clean clothes, but you pull him back by his arm.

‘One more thing.’ you say.

You pull him in for one more hug, holding on to him tightly. ‘I love you.’ you say. 

You feel how Jesper kisses the top of you head. ‘I love you too, darling.’ he says. ‘It’s good to be home again.’

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[chocoholicannanymous]

If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) Pt XVIII

This is the last part of this. Of a story that I was pretty certain I wouldn’t finish and just posted the bit I had in my scraps and snippets tag for a lark. You read that, and you liked it, and your response made me want to try and finish it. And so here we are, ~29k finished fic. 

Thank you for the support.

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, pt VI, pt VII, pt VIII, pt IX, pt X, pt XI, pt XII, pt XIII, pt XIV, pt XV, pt XVI and pt XVII.

New York is big and loud and filthy and expensive.

Kurt's first apartment had been an absolute rathole. He'd shared it with four others, and his “room” had been a repurposed coatroom. There had been just enough place for a bed and a tiny table instead of a desk. He'd only brought the most necessary in way of clothing, and with the exception of two shirts hanging from a nail in the wall he'd been forced to keep everything in a suitcase under the bed.

He'd moved out after a month, tired of never being able to keep food in the kitchen, weary of the nicks surrounding the lock on his door – he'd replaced the old one day 1, but even the best of locks only went so far – and fed up with having to carry all his valuables with him at all times.

Luckily the Warbler network had activated and Trent's older brother had offered up his guest room (and if that wasn't a sign of wealth, a student in New York with a guest room, then Kurt didn't know what was) for the rest of the year provided Kurt find someplace else to spend the night on those occasions it was needed. During the fall it'd mostly been solved by Sebastian coming to visit and the two sharing a cheap hotel room, and during the fall by Kurt spending the night at Sebastian's apartment. It had been tempting to move in with Sebastian then, but Kurt had resisted and they both agreed they'd become stronger for it.

Living together had been tough, especially since Sebastian had a lot more money available than Kurt. They'd managed to find a balance though and looking back Kurt feels proud of the work they'd put in to make it work. Three years (and counting) together and these days Kurt is willing to proclaim that Sebastian is as much of a perfect boyfriend as it's possible to be.

Yes, New York is still loud and filthy and big, but it's also full of light and laughter and love. Kurt's learned to find his way around both city and school, and he's on track for graduation with excellent prospects. Life is good.

Of course, that kind of means he's overdue for a cold shower and unfortunately it comes as cold and icy as is possible.

“Blaine. I guess I should have known you'd turn up.”

Like a bad penny, Kurt thinks. His ex-boyfriend just smiles wider at the words, clearly not picking up on the undertones.

“Yes! I'll always come back to you, Kurt. We're meant to be – you're my soulmate.”

Kurt shudders. All these years, and he still haven't gotten over his negative reaction to those words.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure you and I have different interpretations of what those things mean. Personally I can't see how someone who walked out of my life without a word years ago could be considered my 'soulmate', but that's me.”

“That's not fair! I never wanted to leave you, but my parents made me.”

Blaine does this thing with his face that resembles what Kurt remembers of Blaine's “I've apologized, sort of, and you should forgive me now” expression and Kurt thinks that if Blaine could see himself he'd never ever do it again. It's not pretty. It kind of looks like he's about to shit his pants, frankly.

“Right. Your parents. And why, exactly, were they so determined to get you out of Lima without saying goodbye?”

Blaine flinches, and Kurt can see the realization hit him. Strange. It's as if he never even thought about the possibility that Kurt would know about the lies Blaine had told. Emotions run across Blaine's eyes and face, one after the other, and Kurt just waits without even trying to figure out what's going through his ex's mind. He's beyond caring.

“Kurt, I... I, I have a confession to make. When I got home that last night, my parents, they were waiting up for me. They made assumptions, and I, I let them.”

Blaine's face twists, and a couple of tears start falling. Kurt would be touched, really he would, except he happens to know that Blaine can cry on command.

“I know I shouldn't have, I know it was wrong, I was just so afraid! I thought they'd throw me out, and so I kept quiet and did what they wanted. I'm so sorry I did that to you.

“I love you, Kurt!”

The thing is, he can remember when those words from Blaine's lips would make him melt. That's no longer true. Now he listens to them like he would a performance, and he finds them lacking. He should have gone for soft instead of intense, a hint of tears maybe, not volume and anger.

This isn't school though, even though it very much is a performance, nor is it worth critiquing. It's not worth anything, really. Kurt sighs a little, just wanting all of it to be over and Blaine to be gone.

“Here's the thing. I understand, I guess. In your shoes I would have been worried to tell my dad the truth too. I think just about every teenager out there would be at least a little afraid to tell their parents they got drunk and stupid.

“But I also think that just about every teenager out there knows that there's some kind of middle-ground between 'I got drunk and tried to rape my boyfriend' and 'my boyfriend drugged me and tried to rape me'. Except apparently you didn't. You just went with what would get you of the hook the fastest and easiest.”

“Hey! That's not fair!”

“Oh, it isn't? You doing what you did is okay, but me calling it what it was is unfair? Now, why am I not the least bit surprised that that's how you feel?

“You know, at first I didn't understand how you could do it. How you could say you loved me and then not just leave me, but let your parents believe that I would do something like that to you. Well, that you could let anyone think I'd do that to anyone.

“But as I said, I understand why you did it.”

A triumphant look flash up in Blaine's eyes. Oh, he's doing a pretty good job at hiding it – much better than he would have been able to as a teenager – but Kurt knows him, and he's looking for it.

“You threw me under the bus because you knew it'd be an easy out. You could have told your parents something else, anything else, but you chose the worst possible lie – one you had to have known would get me in trouble. You did it because it was easy, and it would get you of the hook – maybe even get you some sympathy instead of the punishment you deserved – and you did it because that was all you cared about. You.

“I always knew you were a bit self-involved, but I told myself it was just part of you being a performer. A healthy ego's pretty much a must, and I used to think that was it. Except it turned out you were so focused on you, and your needs and wants, that nothing else mattered. Certainly not me.

“It took me a while to accept, but I know now that regardless of what you said you didn't love me. Not really. You might have thought you did, but Blaine? Love means that the other person's just as important to you as you yourself are. And I never was that to you.”

He ignores Blaine's protests and just continues, projecting his voice to be heard over the barely restrained excuses and lies.

“The truth is that your lack of empathy and care for other people borders on Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and quite frankly I am better off for not having you remain in my life. Just don't expect me to thank you for it though.

“No one else will either. Do you realize how many people you worried with your little disappearing act? There was quite a few at Dalton who were convinced that your parents had shipped you off to conversion camp. They were counting down until your 18th birthday and from what I heard there was even the beginning of a fund to pay your way at Dalton if you escaped and were disowned.”

There's a triumphant gleam in Blaine's eyes. Clearly he's pleased about his friends being so worried about him and so ready to help him out. Kurt just wants to stomp that light out. Violently.

“Then when you didn't resurface after your birthday a few started worrying that your parents had you in a mental hospital, and there was talk of trying to stage some kind of rescue. That only lasted so long, of course.

“You see, somehow it's hard to convince anyone that their friend is practically jailed and in need of a rescue when they're seen out and about clubbing in L.A.. After all, these days everyone carries a phone, so the idea that you were unable to contact someone – anyone – and ask for help went up in flames pretty quick after that.”

Thad had been so angry that he'd made sure every single Dalton student that had ever know Blaine found out, and even the boy's most die-hard supporters had given up then and there.

They'd all understood not wanting to getting into a conflict with your family, especially when said family usually paid for college and any possible trust funds tended to be under the family's control for a while longer. What they hadn't understood was Blaine's total lack of communication. Email telling them that Blaine was okay but under orders not to contact anyone from Ohio would have gone a long way to ease worries, and was, they felt, the very least he owed them.

“Funny thing about you showing up here now? I can't help but remember that you turned 21 a couple of weeks ago. You didn't happen to get access to a trust fund then did you? Not that I actually care, but there are some old bets to settle.”

There wasn't, not really, but enough Warbler had warned Kurt about this very scenario with an added “I bet he shows up afterwards, thinking you'll take him back” for it to not quite be a lie.

Blaine splutters before launching into a long row of “explanations”, one more shitty than the other. It's obvious that he didn't expect Kurt to be angry with him, but instead to be welcomed with open arms. It's even sounding as if Blaine expected Kurt to take him back and just let him slide back into his life as if nothing had happened. Kurt isn't quite sure if Blaine intended for him to move in with Kurt and start a new life in New York, or if the idea was for Kurt to give up everything and follow Blaine back to L.A., but both options are equally ridiculous.

“Stop. Just, stop. I told you, I don't care. If you want to get in touch with any of your old friends from Dalton and McKinley and explain all of it to them, do so. But you don't need to explain anything to me. I don't want to hear it. Your window for explaining yourself to me closed years ago. It closed after you let your parents walk into a police station ready to have me charged with rape.

“Nothing you can say will ever make that okay. Nothing you say can make me forgive you.”

Kurt stops himself and takes a deep breath. There's so much he could say, so many accusations that could be made, so much hatred to be poured out.

Blaine's actions had gotten Kurt into trouble, and could have landed him in jails. They'd been what had stopped Burt Hummel from running from reelection after being asked – while nothing had come from the Andersons' accusations there had still been enough people who had known about it for it to leak and ruin a political career. After all, who cared if it was true when it made for a good weapon? And “local congressman buries son's rape charge” made for a great weapon.

Kurt had been willing to risk it, but his dad hadn't wanted to. Had it leaked the only way to prove Kurt's innocence would have been to make the video of Blaine trying to assault Kurt public. No good parent does that to their kid had been Burt's position, and Kurt had been grateful.

That didn't mean he wasn't aware of exactly how much that had cost not just his dad but the whole state. The man who'd replaced his dad had been the kind of bigot that wasn't good for anyone, not even his followers.

Kurt still blames Blaine for that, and even if he'd been insane enough to consider forgiving everything else he's never forgiving that. The chance of making Blaine understand any of that is minuscule though. The chance of him caring is even less.

There is, simply put, no point in spending even another second on trying to get through to him.

“You're not welcome here. Please leave. Goodbye Blaine.”

Once the door is closed and locked behind Blaine Kurt finally relaxes. He's closing the door on Blaine in more than one way, finally able to truly do that – because regardless of what he's hoped he's always known that one day his former boyfriend would pop up again.

“If he comes back you're filing for a restraining order.”

“He won't come back, Sebastian.”

“You don't know that. He did today, didn't he?”

It's obvious that Sebastian is coming from a place of care and worry, and Kurt feels himself soften. Blaine hasn't just been the monster under Kurt's bed during all of these years.

“Yes, he did, and no, I guess I can't really know. But honey, I really don't think he will. Blaine was reminded today that actions have consequences, and he found out I have the means to ensure said consequences. Coming after me and trying to change my mind is more work than he's ever shown himself willing to put in.

“After all, he's not the kind to stick around when the spit hits the fan.”

Luckily Sebastian is.

~ The end ~

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | THREE

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 3,310

warnings: depression, anxiety, grief, mental illness! descriptions of injury/blood/gore! angst

18+!!! minors stay away!

Peter Parker: are you okay??

Peter Parker: (Y/N)?

Peter Parker: why aren't you at school? please tell me you're okay

You shut your phone off and buried your head under your pillow again, wishing for nothing more than to go back to sleep and escape life completely. All weekend long, and especially all morning, your phone had been ringing non stop with texts from Peter Parker. As much as you wished you could say you hadn't read them, you had.

You'd read them all almost as soon as you'd received them, but you just couldn't bring yourself to respond. You didn't need friends. You didn't want friends. Peter Parker was not your friend, and you were determined to keep it that way. No matter how hard he tried to force himself into your life, you were not going to let him in; you couldn't.

You couldn't let him in and risk getting hurt again, and today was yet another painful reminder of why. It was her birthday. At least, it would have been if she weren't dead. If you hadn't put her in the wrong place at the right time, ending her life and ruining yours forever.

For one tiny moment after you woke up, one minuscule fraction of a second, you forgot the importance of the day. You forgot what made the day different, and you forgot that your sister was dead. Or, rather, did you forget you ever had a sister at all? Had--that was the word that made you weep.

That fleeting moment of ignorance was the exact reason why it should have been you and not her. Surely, she never would have forgotten your birthday, or you, or your absence. She never would have looked at the date and even hesitated in remembering what the significance was. Always the better sister, the better person, the one who deserved it all.

Since that moment you had not left your bed, and Peter's latest slew of texts forced you to look at the time and acknowledge that hours had passed. It was lunch time, hours and hours since you'd awoken, and you had not moved even an inch. Everything felt too heavy.

The air felt too thick, gravity too strong, your body made of stone; you wondered if you were even able to move. Of course, you had shut your phone off so clearly you could move, but you didn't want to. It was so hard, so unbelievably hard to move. Why did everything have to be so tough?

As you laid there, staring at the blackened void of the backs of your eyelids because you just couldn't shut your mind off, your thoughts wandered through all the darkest places. Would she have been ashamed to see you like this? Would she have been disgusted with how you were acting, the person you had become?

God, why couldn't you just shut it off? Why couldn't you just make it all stop? That was all you wanted anymore. You wanted the thoughts, the feelings, the memories, everything, to just go away. You wanted to just exist in the empty void that only came about when you were sleeping. The space where your senses were gone and it was just you.

Or, maybe, you didn't want to exist at all. That wasn't to say that you wanted to die, even though you did, but rather that you just wanted to cease to exist. You wanted to never be, to never have been. It was complex thought that was equally as heavy and taxing to ponder.

Would that have made a difference? Would she have lived if you had never been around, never been alive, to lead her down all the paths that lead to that moment? If you hadn't existed, she wouldn't have been in the park at that perfect moment. If she, by some mystical force, had been there anyways, she wouldn't have lingered behind to save you.

Everyone's lives would have been so much better without you. Your parents wouldn't have had to work so much to afford everything for you and your sister. Your grandma might have lived longer, not having to exert herself so much to watch after the troublesome child that you had been. Maybe the butterfly effect of your lack of existence would have reached so far that the world would generally be a better place, too.

You barked a laugh at the thought, your voice hoarse from dehydration and lack of use. How pathetic it was of you to think you had so much of an impact! You surely were not so important that you changed that much about the world.

"(Y/N), honey?"

The world got a little heavier at the sound of your door creaking open and your mother's soft, hesitant voice. When you didn't respond, nor even move a muscle, she sighed, "(Y/N), you need to eat. I made some soup, I'll even bring it up to you if you want."

Despite the fact that you didn't feel hungry in even the slightest capacity, your stomach rumbled loudly at the mention of food. "Okay." you whispered, and when the door clicked shut again the silence was overwhelming.

She would have been so disappointed in you. You knew just how much you worried your parents with every passing day, and as much as you wanted to be better and make them feel better, you just couldn't bring yourself to care. You couldn't bring yourself to care about your wellbeing or how all the things you were doing, or not doing, affected your parents.

Caring wasn't easy anymore, and it felt foreign. You were so bogged down under all the baggage on your back, on your shoulders, and on your head that you couldn't expend any of the energy required to do so. If you did, if you tried, you'd surely have collapsed under the weight.

Your mother came back and left once more just as quickly, sighing quietly as she tried and failed to rouse you from your bed. You'd remained silent through the creak of the door, the soft clatter of the bowl and spoon being placed on your nightstand, her soft breathes of disappointment, and the click of the latch as she left again. You even held your breathe, so immersed in listening to all her little noises that you forgot about the air you needed to live.

When your mother returned to your room later that day, though it felt like seconds for you, she ripped the blankets from your body and blinked down at you tearfully. "You didn't eat." she stated simply, gesturing to the still full bowl of soup that was now ice cold.

You blinked back, though the tears in your eyes were due to the sudden burn of being open rather than emotion. The numbness had creeped in at some point during the day, and you couldn't feel a thing aside from empty. She waited there for a long, pregnant moment for you to respond, but you had no words.

What were you meant to say? You could hear your sister's voice scolding you for ignoring her, but you just couldn't think of the right thing to say anymore. "Get up, (Y/N). Dinner is getting cold and you're going to eat with us, even if I have to drag you out of this bed myself." your mother finally demanded.

Weakly, you clambered out of your bed and followed her downstairs. She tried to hide it, probably for your sake, but you could see the pleased smile on her face as she finally got you out of your bed. You wondered what it felt like to smile anymore. Could you smile anymore? You'd tried a few times, but it always felt awkward and forced and never looked quite right.

"She lives!"

You grimaced, your version of a smile, at your father's bland attempt at humor that earned a warning glare from your mother. Yes, you lived, and that was the problem. You didn't want to. You shouldn't have. It should have been her coming down to dinner to celebrate her birthday, not you trudging to the table to try and ignore the party that should have been taking place.

She would have been nineteen. Would she have liked college? Would she have found a cute college boy to date, maybe have brought him home to meet the family on her birthday? Your mother made her favorite food, a family recipe, and you pretended you didn't notice.

It didn't taste as good without her around to gush over it in anticipation. You'd never been much of a fan in the first place, but as a little sister it was your duty to love everything your big sister did. Food included, and you'd eagerly sucked down that casserole for years and claimed it was your favorite too.

"I'll be right back, don't go anywhere!" your mother announced, wiping her hands on a napkin as you choked down the last pea on your plate.

When she returned a few moments later with a large chocolate cake in her hands, a cold sweat blossomed over your body and you stiffened. "What's that?" you demanded, staring wide eyed at the all-too-familiar cake incredulously.

It was a rhetorical question. You knew exactly what it was, but you were horrified to see it. She'd made her famous chocolate cake, the same cake she'd made every year for your sister's birthday because, like the casserole, it too was her favorite.

Was this some kind of sick joke? Why did she make a cake? Your sister was gone, and there was nothing to celebrate. If anything you wished to still be hidden away under your blankets, moping and wishing for peace. Yet, here was your mother, placing the cake down on the table with a sheepish smile and watery eyes.

She stared at the cake, avoiding your eyes as she sniffed, "I just... I thought that maybe this would make it feel like she's still here. I just wanted a little bit of her to make the day a little less sad."

"She's not here, Mom." you snapped, "She's not here, and this isn't going to change that."

With a loud screech from your chair that scraped across the floor, you bolted away from the table and back to your room. God, why are you being so horrible? She's just trying her best, you don't have to be so hard on her... Your sister's voice echoed in your mind, rattling around your skull so hard you swore you could feel your teeth chatter.

She was right, and you knew it. You knew you were being unfair, cruel even, but you couldn't help it. You couldn't help the uncontrollable guilt that seeing all your sister's favorite foods brought creeping back over you. You couldn't help the bile that steadily rose up your throat at the thought of her, the sight of her ever-present empty chair.

You couldn't help any of it. The anger and guilt was too much to bear, especially as you heard your mother's choked sob echo from the dining room all the way to your bedroom. You'd done that. You'd made her cry with your selfish contempt. You were truly the worst.

Collapsing back onto your bed and burying yourself under your blankets, you smothered yourself with your pillow until it felt like your lungs were going to explode. The tears never came, though you wished for them desperately. You felt like crying, you wanted to cry, but you couldn't. You were all cried out once more.

A loud knock on your window startled you awake, and you blinked in surprise at the pitch darkness of your room. You couldn't remember falling asleep, but that was fairly typical anymore. When you don't dream, there's never really much to differentiate between wake and rest. It was always just like blinking your eyes--one moment it was one day, and the next it was another.

Time moved pretty strangely ever since the incident, you'd discovered. Sleep made time seem longer, more impactful, and without it the days all blurred together. Another knock caught your attention, followed by another, before there was a steady rapping at the glass pane that made you furrow your eyebrows.

You clicked the power button on your phone only to huff when you remembered you'd shut it off, and turned to face the window. A shadow passed before it and your heart stuttered frightfully. Another knock, another shadow, and you were surprised you hadn't peed your pants in fear. There was someone out there.

A head popped up over the windowsill, falling heavily against the glass with a loud bang that made you jump. "What the--Peter?" you gasped, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting until you could make out the familiar suit of Spiderman.

What the hell was Peter doing at your window, and why was he still dressed up in his stupid costume? Begrudgingly, yet secretly curious, you creeped out of your bed and opened the window with furrowed eyebrows. "Peter, what are you doing here?" you whispered, but he didn't respond.

Well, he didn't respond with words. He groaned, a strange gargled noise like he was trying to talk through a mouthful of water, and his head lolled to the side weakly. Prodding his shoulder, he nearly tumbled to the ground until you caught him awkwardly and strained to keep him upright. "P-please, help." he gasped.

Your heart was racing, and your mind was moving nearly as fast with a million questions. How the hell did Peter know where you lived? Why was he at your window? What was wrong with him? Why did he think you were the person to help him? Why, what, why, how, all the questions remained unanswered.

It was a great struggle to drag Peter through your window, a task that was done without much help from the surprisingly heavy boy who leaned nearly all of his weight onto you. You did it, though, and bit back a scream when you pulled your hands away to find them covered in blood. As you stared at the dark, red stains on your flesh, the smell of it hit you and your head was spinning.

Blood, and a lot of it. Immediately your mind brought you back to that fateful day, images of your sister's lifeless form flashing before your eyes and blurring the world around you. Your breathing grew shallower, and just as the tunnel vision started to encroach, Peter garbled, "Please, (Y/N), you need to help me."

He weakly slapped at his chest until his suit deflated like a balloon, peeling away from his body like a loose tarp that was easily pulled away from his skin. "Oh, my god!" you wailed. His body was riddled with cuts, scrapes, and bruises galore. You wondered if any of his skin remained unbroken, because everything was black, blue, and red.

For the first time in what felt like forever, your fight or flight switched gears to fight. You weren't entirely sure why, because you were crying and holding back vomit like your life depended on it, but you raced around your room to gather anything you could to staunch the bleeding. Every breathe you took overwhelmed you with the smell of blood, that familiar metallic scent of iron or pennies, but you couldn't breathe through your mouth.

If you opened your mouth, you were surely going to lose all the food you'd eaten for dinner. All you could think of was your sister. You thought of what she would have done, and you knew that you were making the right choice in helping him. She would never have left him to fend for himself. Most of all, though, you thought of your sister and how you hadn't stopped her from dying, and you couldn't do that again.

You couldn't let another person die as a result of your actions. You couldn't, and you wouldn't. So, you worked hard and fast through all your crying to patch Peter up as best as you could. Nothing needed stitches as far as you could tell, but nearly every inch of his skin was broken with some form of scrape, scratch, or cut.

It was messy, and by the time you finished you were pretty sure you had more of Peter's blood on your skin and clothes than he had on himself. He was asleep, or unconscious, you weren't entirely sure. What you were sure of, though, was that the sun was rising and he needed to leave. You needed him to get out, both for the sake of your mentality and your parents'.

So, you jabbed your fingers into his shoulder and hissed, "Wake up!"

He awoke frantically, his eyes snapping open and his body lurching upright as he looked around in a panic. "Get away--(Y/N)? What... What am I doing here? Where am I?" he stammered, slumping back onto the floor with a wince as he continued to scan his surroundings in confusion.

"You're in my bedroom, Parker, and I don't know why. You showed up covered in blood and begging for help." you grumbled in annoyance. "You need to go. It's almost morning."

He blinked in surprise, glancing out your window to see the early hints of dawn on the horizon. "I, uh, I'm... I'm sorry. I don't remember coming here." he mumbled, "Woah, did I hurt you? Oh my God, I hurt you, I'm so--"

"This is your blood, Peter." you growled, cutting off his frenzied rambling as he finally caught sight of the red stains all over your body. "Get out."

He stared at you with parted lips, eyes wide with panic and apprehension. "Are you crying?" he finally asked, his voice timid.

It took you a moment to realize that, yes, you were in fact crying. You hadn't realized that the tears were still flowing from your eyes, but as you did the adrenaline wore off and you choked out through a sob, "Get out! Get out of here, Peter!"

Without the adrenaline pumping through your veins to keep you grounded, the emotion of the entire situation caught up to you. All the fear, anguish, guilt, and anxiety--it all washed over you in an instant and you were losing it. But, you were also angry. You were angry with Peter for putting you in that position.

You were angry that he'd show up, barely alive and begging for your help, when he knew somewhat of what you'd been through. He knew, at the very least, that your sister's death was on your hands, and he put you in a position to put another name on that list. Most of all, though, you were angry that already all of your worst fears were thrown in your face.

Peter wasn't your friend, but some part of you wanted him to be, and already you were faced with the prospect of him dying and you being helpless to stop it. Why was the universe so cruel to you? Were you cursed? It was all a sick, twisted joke, and you wanted no part of it.

"(Y/N), what's wrong--"

You cried, "Just, please, go. I'll see you at school, okay? Just go!"

And, after a moment of hesitation, he went. He climbed out of your window from where he watched you for another minute longer, clearly unwilling to leave you alone in such a state. Peter watched wordlessly as you fumbled to close and latch the window, until you shut the curtains and shut him out again.

Peter Parker: i'm so sorry

Peter Parker: please be okay

Peter Parker: i better see you at school tomorrow or i'm coming back to check on you

Peter Parker: or today i guess

SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb

[nighthaikyuu]

letters | 02

they were just words on pieces of paper. words he never wrote himself. but those words were enough to make you go from living a fairytale relationship to one filled with burning questions, envy and uncertainty.

m.list ch.1 ↞ ch. 2 ↠ ch.3

pairing: kuroo tetsuro + gf! reader

word count: 1.8k 

genre: established relationship! au + angst, fluff

previously...

Taking the letters out, your eyes scanned for the dates. To your dismay, many of them were sent to him after you guys got together. Taking a deep breath, your grip on the letters tightened before you let yourself fall into a deeper hole, feeling your heart shatter as you read every single word, one after the other. 

❝Kuroo, 

I miss you. 

except you probably already know that right? after all, I've only said it about a million times in these letters.... i sometimes wonder whether you even read them when you never reply, but after everything I did it wouldn’t surprise me if you saw these and just ripped them apart. 

god, I miss you so much kuroo. ever since that day, every day without you has been a reminder of how badly I messed up, how badly I fucked up and let you go. i’ll never forgive myself for that.❞

You quickly realized maybe this was why Kuroo never brought up his past relationship to you. From what you read, it wasn’t hard to see that it didn’t end well. 

Thoughts raced through your mind, what did happen? You wondered if she cheated on him, but the thought in itself caused a surge of anger within you. Placing the letter back into the box, you read the next one. 

❝Kuroo, 

sometimes I think about the nights we spent just lying outside the gym after practice, staring at the stars as we whispered promises of forever’s and always’ to each other. 

life is a funny thing isn’t it? 

but I meant every word kuroo, every single word. I wasn’t able to keep up my promises but I can promise you every word I said was true and genuine. I loved you so much, and I still do and forever will.❞

Biting down on your lip, you hated how the feeling of jealousy for this girl you didn’t know, burned through your veins. You felt pathetic, after all this was a relationship that was over yet you couldn’t help but feel it was anything but that. 

 ❝Kuroo, 

do you know how many times I’ve blocked and unblocked you on social media? while I never wanted to see you again because your face was the constant reminder of the biggest thing I lost in my life, I couldn’t keep away. not from you kuroo, not when I still see the others around and they pretend to be nice but I know they all hate me for what I did. 

last night I visited nekoma, and that night I went back and unblocked you. however, I really wish I hadn’t. 

she makes you happy, doesn't she? 

it hurt a lot to see. I saw you took her to where you promised we’d go together one day. but more than that, it hurt to see the way you smiled at her, how your eyes were filled with so much affection and adoration for her. it hurt to know I used to be the one who saw those eyes everyday once. how badly I wish I was her.❞

At the mention of you in the letter, your chest tightened. So she did know you existed. 

You frowned softly when you read about the picture she had seen on his social media. The very first couple picture he had posted of you was from the trip the two of you took to the beach during a long weekend break from school. You had always remembered that trip as the time where you really fell for Kuroo, the night where you were lying on the beach with him as you whispered your very first I love you’s to each other, would be something you’d never forget. 

But now you felt sick. 

❝I'm sorry, 

god, kuroo please, please I'm so sorry. please respond to my letters, I don’t know what to do anymore. 

I'm still so in love with you kuroo, from the day I saw you to when I broke your heart, to now. I never stopped and I never will.  please forgive me and come back to me. I promise I'll be better, I promise you kuroo. I still must be there in your heart, please just give me one more chance. ❞

Sitting there as you finished the most recently dated letter, a sudden wave of emptiness washed over you. You had a million questions. You wanted to know the meaning behind every word, every sentence and every letter she had sent Kuroo. 

But more than that, you wanted to know why he still kept them. 

But you couldn’t. You didn’t have the courage nor the strength to ask them or to find the answers. You were too scared. 

You felt the corners of your eyes sting as dangerous thoughts plagued your already weakened mind. Why didn't he throw them away? Was he still not over her? Did he still love her? 

As the voices in your head only got louder, screaming as they overtook the ones   that attempted to give you hope, you pulled your knees to your chest as you choked back a sob. 

Oh how unfair life is. 

The next time you saw Kuroo was that following night. It was finally the end of the week, and like every Friday the both of you sat on the couch with bowls of popcorn in your lap as you flipped through Netflix to find a movie to watch. 

Usually you’d be cuddled up by his side, head against his chest as he’d rest his in the crook of your neck. Today, you found it difficult to even look his way. 

You knew you had to play it off better than this. Kuroo was quick to realize when things were wrong and it was only a matter of time before you ran out of random excuses. 

“Hey, you okay?” a voice whispered beside you. 

Guess you were already too late. 

Turning to your side, you forced a soft smile on your face before nodding at Kuroo, “Yeah, think I’m just tired this week is all.” 

Concern washed over his features. Frowning, he asked, “You wanna talk about it?” 

"No!” you sputtered out as you eyes went wide. You watched as Kuroo blinked at you in surprise before you immediately shook your head, chuckling nervously, as you attempted to cover up your sudden outburst. “No, it’s okay...it’s nothing new or anything. Just classes and club responsibilities all piling on top of each other, ya know?” 

To that, Kuroo simply nodded but you didn’t fail to notice the skeptical look he gave you as you quickly turned your attention back to the screen in front of you, keeping your face as stoic as possible despite the million thoughts and emotions that ran through you at that moment. 

You were such an idiot. 

After what seemed like nearly forever, the movie came to an end. Grabbing the remote off of the coffee table, you turned off the TV with a yawn as you got up from the couch and stretched your arms up in the air. 

“Kuroo, I should probably get going—Oh!” you yelped in slight surprise as you felt your boyfriend wrap his arms around your waist, his head nestling into the crook of your neck. 

“Mmm, don’t go~” he whispered softly into your ear, “Why don’t you stay over tonight, huh?” 

You almost let out a bitter laugh. 

Any other day and you would’ve gladly accepted, easily making your way into his room to quickly find one of his t-shirts you could wear to bed. 

But there you stood, staring at the door to his room and you instantly felt nauseous. Today, that was the last thing you could do. Not when you’d be sleeping right above the scraps of paper stuffed in a box hidden away from you, right above a secret that Kuroo had kept from you, and that you had found out about. 

Turning around in his arms, you looked up at Kuroo who stared down at you with a sleepy expression; his eyelids were drooping as he gave you a soft smile, lips in a small pout. All you wanted to do was grab his face and pull him into a kiss, to feel that adorable pout against your lips. 

If only I hadn’t found the box... you thought to yourself, biting the insides of your cheeks.

No, if only Kuroo hadn’t kept those letters. you corrected yourself. If only he had thrown them away, you would’ve never found them and you wouldn’t be here, feeling like the world’s biggest joke. 

As you pulled yourself from his grasp, you watched as his pout dissolved into a small frown as you said softly, “I don’t think I can tonight Kuroo, maybe some other time, hmm?” 

Frown deepening, Kuroo only pulled you closer before engulfing you into his arms, your head resting against his chest as he held you tighter. The both of you stood that way for a while until you heard him finally sigh, “Okay, I’ll let you go then.”

Pulling away, Kuroo gave you a soft smile before cupping your face with one hand, fingers grazing your cheeks gently as he started to lean in. 

You felt a sinking feeling erupt in your stomach once you knew exactly what was about to happen. 

Oh god, what should I do? Should I just let him? Will he able to tell something’s off? This is too much—!

Just then, you felt his lips brush against your forehead, kissing it firmly before pulling away slowly. 

Your eyes that had been squeezed shut in fear, opened slowly as you blinked at him in surprise. You almost swore he was going to kiss you...

“Goodnight Y/N.” he said softly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

Nodding, you whispered back a goodnight kuroo before grabbing your things and heading to the door. Opening the door, you turned around and gave him a small wave, which he returned back with a smile. 

Finally stepping outside of his apartment, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in this whole time. Your whole chest felt like it was on fire, like you had been breathing smoke for the last couple hours from the fire that had been lit in your heart ever since you laid your eyes on those goddamn letters. 

Running your hands through your hair, you let out a soft groan of frustration. It hadn’t even been a day and you were barely able to make it through without wanting to expose everything. 

“You can do it Y/N.” you whispered firmly to yourself, “You just need some time.” 

You didn't exactly know what you were talking about. You didn’t necessarily have a plan either. Were you just going to ignore that the letters existed? Were you hoping on just forgetting they existed? Or were you just waiting for the right day and time to tell Kuroo what you had accidentally found?

Shaking your head, you brushed the questions away. They could wait. 

Now all you wanted to do was get back to your room and get under your sheets, and hopefully not cry yourself to sleep. 

general taglist

@lady-snavely​ @02hhsailor​ @killuaking​ @rae0fsunshine1317​ @sugawaaras​ @findityourselffsworld​ @voids-universe​ @yams046​ @visaintes​ @honeybacon​ @kuroos-babie​ @verbluehte​ @captain-janeway​

letters taglist

@postsfromthe6​ @yatoatyourservice​ @blanknearvana​ @airheadpillar​ @hopelesshawks​ @ysatrap​ @starry-magicshop​ @whenyouscream​ @mkkhaikyuu​

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Fifty-Five) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. PTSD. Depression. Mentions of a hostage situation, shooting, murder, suicide, physical trauma.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 10,588

Timeline: Season 8 Episodes 13. Right after part fifty-four.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

Before the front door was even closed, Hotch grabbed my waist, and he pulled me into a hug so tight I thought my lungs would collapse. To be fair, after a moment of being caught off guard, I started squeezing him back with every ounce of strength I had, too. It had been such a long, stressful day. We did everything we could have to help Reid, but it wasn’t enough. I had sat across from him in our house just that afternoon, promising him that Maeve would be alright. I told him that she was going to survive for him, and that he would get to hold her in his arms, just as Hotch and I were holding each other that night. But I lied. Maeve… She… Well, she wasn’t as lucky as I was. When I was taken, I practically knew how to get myself out of it because of my training, but Maeve had been waiting around for her knight in shining armor to come rescue her.

Watching Reid break down over Maeve’s body, refusing to even touch her because he didn’t get to hold her while she was still alive… I couldn’t help but think about the contrast between them and us. I remembered when Hotch found me, he broke down out of happiness and relief. He was so glad that I was safe, that I was alive, and that we were going to have a baby. We were lucky because he got to hold me in his arms again, kiss my lips as much as he wanted, to say “I love you” until his throat was sore. We got another chance together, whereas Reid and Maeve didn’t even have their first chance. It all felt unfair.

For some reason, I almost wished that I could trade places with them, just for a bit, so that they could be holding one another like Hotch and I were, so that they could kiss each other for the first time, so that they could look each other in the eyes and say “I love you”. Even though I didn’t want to lose Hotch in a million years, it almost felt like we had stolen some of the time that Reid and Maeve deserved— even though that wasn’t the case, realistically. It just felt like it should have been them standing there, relieved to be with each other. Spencer had been through so much. He deserved to be happy. He didn’t deserve this mess. He should have been able to hold Maeve…

Hotch’s arms constricted around me more and I sort of felt his knees buckle. He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, breathing through his nose against my skin. I heard him sniffle lightly as a cold tear drop ran from his cheek and onto my neck.

“I’m here,” I cooed to him, pulling at the ends of his hair. “You’ll never lose me.”

That wasn’t guaranteed, though. For all I knew, I could have been lying to Hotch, too. Maybe someone would take me again, and they’d actually have the balls to end me. Maybe someone would take Hotch and I would be left to raise our family on our own… The thought made me want to throw up. I hadn’t put it in perspective like that. It was easy to think about dying— painful, but still easy. To think about losing Hotch randomly now, with our growing, happy family… My head started to spin, and I started to cry. I couldn’t lose him.

Hotch’s arms moved around me so that he could sweep me off my feet and cradle me close to his chest. I let him lift me off the ground, one of his arms sliding under my knees, his other one holding my back up. I kept my hold on his neck, letting him hug me as hard as he could as he slowly dropped to his knees.

We had all lost so much— Hotch more than anyone. But Reid had been through so many traumatic, unfair events. It all started with Tobias Hankle, and everything since then seemed like an attack on him, too. This… How was he supposed to recover from this? How were we supposed to help him?

That empty question kept me up all night. Hotch and I hardly even made it to the couch, still cuddled in each other’s arms, eternally grateful that we could be together. Nothing needed to be said. Nothing even needed to happen. We just sat in silence, listening to each other’s breathing, feeling the way our hearts beat in our chest, thinking about how things could have ended much differently in Hawai’i. All this time, we took each other for granted. We took our daughter for granted. If I hadn’t acted as quickly as I did when they took me on our honeymoon, and if Hotch hadn’t found me as soon as he did, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t have me—or neither of us would have our little ray of sunshine. We weren’t going to forget this. I don’t think anyone on the team was going to forget. Ever.

----

No one heard from Reid for about a week, and after an extremely tough case where everyone was still trying to reach out to him, I decided to head over there with Scarlet. I figured that he would be willing to see me if she was with me. After connecting the way we did during Maeve’s kidnapping, I thought that it was worth a shot. Maybe he would talk to me. If he wouldn’t reach out to his closest friends, like JJ and Garcia, maybe he would at least open up to someone who wasn’t as emotionally involved. It was easy to do that sometimes. Opening up to our loved ones was difficult because we never wanted to be judged or ridiculed by the people we knew best; but opening up to someone who was practically a stranger, like a therapist or someone on the internet, felt freeing. Since Reid and I had never been close, we hardly knew anything about each other. I’d said it before, but that was no one’s fault. It happened naturally. But now that he was suffering, and it was clear that he needed someone to talk to, I decided that I would at least try to be that shoulder he could cry on.

I adjusted Scarlet on my hip as I headed up the steps to Reid’s apartment. JJ had given me the address after I told her my idea, and she agreed that it didn’t hurt to try. When I reached the top of the steps, I stopped after noticing all of the gift baskets gathered in front of his door, all unbothered and unopened. I cocked a brow. That wasn’t right. Why were these all here, and why hadn’t Reid at least taken them inside once he knew no one was just outside, waiting to bother him? Was something wrong? Nothing felt wrong. But maybe that was why he hadn’t been in contact with any of us since Maeve’s death.

I stepped over the baskets to urgently knock on his door. “Reid, are you in there?” I leaned around Scar to get a look at the gift baskets, noticing the huge pink, cursive print that read: To Reid, From Garcia. I smiled lightly. Oh. I knocked again. “Reid, wellness check.” Nothing. “Sound off or I’m coming in.”

“Here,” I heard him respond weakly.

I let out a relieved sigh. “I brought Scarlet. Do you want to at least talk to her, if you won’t talk to anyone else?” I heard shuffling inside, the sound of a heavy piece of furniture being dragged around and books being kicked out of the way. And then the door opened. There was only enough space for Scarlet to fit through, so I caught the hint. “Okay.” I helped Scarlet down to the ground and held her tiny hands as she struggled to slowly waddle into his apartment. The door shut on my face the second Scarlet was inside. I scoffed. “I’ll be sitting out here, I guess.” I turned and slowly crouched onto the ground, groaning as I did so, catching myself before I could topple over after my foot hit one of the gift baskets Garcia left. I inspected it carefully. There was chocolate, containers of cherries and nuts, and stupid miniature figures from Doctor Who. I looked at Reid’s door while asking, “Hey, Reid, do you mind if I snack on some of this stuff?” I waited a moment for an answer, but nothing came, so I decided to just go for it. There was too much there for him to eat on his own, anyhow.

Halfway through a bag of Hershey Kisses, my phone started ringing. I leaned to the side so that I could grab it out of my back pocket while still chewing on the piece I had just popped into my mouth moments prior. Aaron Hotchner. I sighed as I answered the call. With a full mouth, I said, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered honestly, “I just wanted to check to see if you got through to Reid.”

I looked over my shoulder at the door to see that there still wasn’t any movement or noise. “Well… He opened the door and let Scarlet inside, but he kept me out.”

“He let Scarlet in?”

“They really connected the day Mae—” I stopped myself. “He’s always been fond of her, baby. You remember when she was born. He had just lost Emily, and hearing that we named our daughter after her… I think something just clicked for him.” I trapped the phone between my ear and my shoulder so that I could unwrap another piece of chocolate. “He’s so good with her, baby. You should have seen him that day.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

I shook my head somewhat, still keeping the phone trapped. “Not at all. I think he’s just lonely.”

“But the whole team—”

“I think he needs someone impartial, Aaron.”

He sighed on the other end. “You’re right.”

I smirked. “I know.”

“When do you think you’ll be home?”

“Whenever one of them gets too tired or fussy to keep hanging out with each other.”

“E.T.A?” he teased.

“Not available.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.” I could hear him pouring himself a drink in the background, probably a glass of bourbon since the case we had gotten back from last night was a doozy, and his reward was a few drinks here and there whenever we made it through one like that. “I’m worried about him. I don’t want him to leave the team.”

“I know… I don’t either. But it’s his choice, Aaron. If it were you in his shoes, what would you do?”

“You know what I did.”

“Yeah, but you had me there to pick up the pieces. I mean, now, if you were in his shoes today—”

“Stop,” he demanded quickly. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized sincerely. I reached to grab a gummy bear. Garcia had really outdone herself with all of these custom gift baskets that she clearly put together on her own. “It’s just been on my mind.”

“Mine, too.”

The steps just ahead of me started creaking, giving me a heads up that someone was coming. I looked up to see Morgan’s bald head slowly appear. I laughed to myself at the thought, watching as more and more of Morgan began revealing himself to me until he finally reached the top stop, at which point he looked over and spotted me. We both froze. A smile grew on his face, too. We both looked guilty when we realized that we had been caught coming to check on Reid, even though we knew that it was potentially futile.

“Baby, Morgan just got here. I’m going to have to call you back later.”

“Okay,” Hotch said, “call me when you’re on your way home.”

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I hung up on Hotch, leaning to put my phone back into the pocket of my pants. As Morgan sighed and sat down next to me on the floor, I handed him a handful of chocolates. He silently thanked me. We both started snacking on the chocolates, crumbling up the small tin foil wrappers and piling them up between us. I rested my head on Morgan’s shoulder.

“He’ll only see Scarlet,” I whispered.

“Well, the kid’s always liked talking to kids,” Morgan whispered back. “He’s the only one who can get through to the child victims.”

“I know.”

“He would have made a great dad one day…” He threw a wrapper angrily at the wall opposite us.

I scrunched my brows together. “He can still—”

“Not after that.”

“I refuse to believe that.”

Morgan chuckled lightly. “You’ve always been an optimist.”

“And you’ve never been a pessimist. So, what gives?”

“Nothing.”

“And I refuse to believe that,” I teased.

Morgan looked down both sides of the hallway to make sure no one was around or eavesdropping. “You know how I’ve been teaching those Academy lessons on Saturdays?”

“Yeah, you make Prentiss go.”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded. “Has anyone told you which drill I make my cadets do the most?” I shook my head in response. “Home invasion where an entire family is being held hostage. One adult male, one adult female, one son, one baby. Care to guess why I do that one the most?”

My shoulders fell and my eyes softened. All this time, I had been so caught up in the fact that, as Jack and Scarlet's parents, it was mine and Hotch’s responsibility to take care of them and protect them. I never stopped to ask myself how Morgan and Prentiss possibly felt responsible, too. Morgan was the one who first took the initiative to befriend me when I joined the BAU, and we had been best friends since. We had always been protective of each other, but that came with the territory of being field partners, friends, and now he was the godfather of Scarlet. He probably felt an immense urge to protect us because we were his family. I couldn’t stand the idea of facing another Foyet incident, but Morgan was likely terrified of it happening, too, because he didn’t want to be the one to find us.

“There are nights where I can’t sleep,” he explained, “because I have nightmares about what could happen if something bad happens and I can’t save you. You were the first person I had ever met who understood what I went through as a kid, and you were the only other person I knew that was just as damn stubborn as I was to not admit it. You were the one who held me when I found out that Garcia had been shot. You were the one who made sure that I was okay in New York, even though you were the one we should have been worried about. I was the shoulder you cried on for months after Haley’s death because you didn’t want to worry Hotch or make him more upset than he already was. And then Hotch called to tell me that someone took you in Hawai’i, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I worried endlessly every day that you were gone. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t think about anything other than finding you because I wanted my best friend back. I wanted my partner back. I wanted my sister back. And when we found you, I was so relieved. It felt like I could finally breathe after holding my breath all my life because you were safe, you were in Hotch’s arms, and you were still fucking worried about me even though you shouldn’t have been. And then when Scarlet was born…” He choked on a light sob. “And you asked if I would be her godfather, I made a promise to myself in that moment that I would never, ever let anything happen to you guys ever again. You and Hotch have been through too damn much, and I can’t risk losing my partner again. So that was why I slept on your couch almost every day when Hotch was gone. I didn’t want to get a call in the middle of the night, calling me to a crime scene that looks eerily similar to all the shit we see at work, only to find that it’s you, Jack, and Scarlet. I couldn’t bear the thought, so I stayed as close as I could. Then when Hotch came back, and I knew I couldn’t sleep on your couch forever, I had to start working towards being efficient as hell in a situation like this. I look at family annihilator crime scenes all the time, and— you’re right, all I see is you and your family. But I don’t let it wear me down or distract me. I let it encourage me to do better, to try to stop those guys before they can hurt anyone else. There are times, though, sugar, like what happened with Maeve, and I can’t help but feel pessimistic. We’re supposed to help people like Maeve. We’re supposed to help families like yours. Yet we seem to fail nearly every time—”

“We don’t fail.”

“We’re always too late,” he argued. “That’s failing.”

“You know… Every time I’ve almost lost Hotch, I thought I was going to die. I’d see him in pain, and I’d struggle to even breathe. Those people we help… At least we’re making a difference in their lives so that they don’t have to know what that feels like.”

Morgan shifted uncomfortably while reaching for a candy. “Hotch struggled when you went missing. I’ll never forget that.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t really understand what it was like. Hotch’s reaction to seeing you hurt was worse than how Reid reacted, and he didn’t even lose you entirely. Reid was capable of holding himself back, of biting his tongue and regressing into silence while Maeve was still missing. Hotch, on the other hand, had been lashing out. He was so angry, so upset, so lost without you. The only thing he could focus on was finding you, and even then, he needed someone to keep him on task the whole time. But he found you, and he was so relieved, and he was himself again. He won for once and we could all tell that he was so grateful. But Reid lost. He didn’t get to feel that relief. It’s going to take him a very long time to recover from that. A long, long time.”

The doorknob suddenly creaked, causing Morgan and I to both jump to our feet. We stood at attention, shoulder to shoulder, watching as the door opened ever so slightly. My attention was lowered when I saw Scarlet come waddling out of Reid’s apartment. I reached down and carefully picked her up, groaning as I did so and felt my back strain. Morgan watched me silently, taking notice of my struggle, something that he was likely going to point out to Hotch later before I could even get home. Great.

As I propped Scarlet on my hip, I looked back up at the door that was closing in our faces. I figured that would be it, he wouldn’t want us around any longer, so I turned on my heels like I was going to make my way out of the building, but Spencer’s door stopped just in time before it could close all the way, and I saw one of his eyes peek around the corner. Reid got a good look at me, but all we could see was his left eye and part of his cheek.

“Can we—” Reid paused to clear his throat after he noticed how quiet and high-pitched he sounded. “Can we do this again next week?”

I looked to the side at Morgan to see his reaction since I didn’t know what to say or do. I mean, of course I wanted to oblige, but his question had caught me off guard for multiple reasons. For starters, I didn’t expect Reid to say anything to us that day; and next, was he really going to be like this for another week? Was he going to be like this for months? Maybe he should have been talking to a therapist and not a baby.

Morgan shrugged, letting me know that it was my decision.

My eyes met Reid’s one eye as Scarlet tried climbing around in my arms. She was always so damn fussy, I swear. “I think we'd both like that,” I answered, referencing me and Scar.

Reid nodded to thank me for understanding.

“Hey, kid,” Morgan stepped into his view to catch his attention. “Are you okay?” Reid closed the door within an instant, shocking Morgan. “Well,” he scoffed, “okay, then…”

I shrugged at him, not knowing what to tell him, then we left, heading home together.

----

After that, we kept up with the ritual for a few weeks. Every Sunday, which was when Maeve would usually call Spencer, I took Scarlet over to his place. It was nice. They hung out, and I relaxed. He never asked me to come in, he never even talked to me. He would open the door for her, let her waddle in, then he would let her come back out whenever they got bored. It worked. She was always excited to go, and she was always wiped when we were leaving.

About a month into it, Spencer kept the door open after Scarlet went in. I finally got to see him. His fair was so long, so flat, not at all puffy and lively like it normally was. He had bags under eyes, just like Hotch. His apartment reeked, I could smell it from where I was standing, and it looked like a complete wreck. I pouted at him. He shyly asked if I could help him with something, to which I nodded and carefully stepped into his apartment.

All of Garcia’s gift baskets were empty and stacked on his kitchen counter. He had eaten through everything. Thankfully, he had eaten something, but as for showering or cleaning his apartment, I couldn’t praise him as much. There were books scattered everywhere, pages ripped out of a few here and there, spilled coffee on the table, clothes littered around. I knew he was depressed, but if I would have known that the rest of his life had fallen apart like that, I would have kicked down the door in order to help him and hold him.

Spencer kept his eyes lowered as he whispered, “Can you help me clean up?”

I nodded eagerly. “I’d love to.”

I sent him to his bedroom to go shower while I started with taking all of the trash out to the dumpster behind the building and cleaned up any spills around the place. Coffee, sodas, orange juice. It was like he knocked it over and didn’t have the energy to fix it. I knew that feeling. Then, when he came back from his shower, he and I started working on picking up all of the papers, organizing them, then collecting the books that he had angrily thrown around. He didn’t say anything. I could tell he was ashamed of his state of living, but it really wasn’t his fault, and I wished more than anything that he understood that. I was just glad he asked for help before it got any worse.

As I finished putting back the last book Spencer had thrown on the floor, I turned to see that he was sitting down on the floor and pulling Scarlet onto his lap. She giggled and poked at his face. Reid didn’t mind, though. He let her play with his curls before making a move to playfully bite at her finger. She laughed and snatched her hand away. He smiled back at her and started bouncing her on his knee to keep her laughing.

I tried biting back a smile as I sat across from them on the floor. I made sure to keep my distance because they were sharing a moment, and this was the first time I had seen Reid smile in so long, I didn’t want to take that away from them. He deserved to be happy. After everything that happened, he deserved to forget about the burdens of the world and just focus on playing with Scarlet. He was always so good with kids, too. That was why I offered that he hang out with Scarlet rather than talk to me or Morgan or someone else. With Henry and Jack, Reid always just seemed to… click with them. I looked at how he was playing with Scarlet, and I knew right then and there that he was going to be the best father one day. I wanted to tell him, but I knew that after Maeve, he wouldn’t want to hear anything about that kind of stuff. That was understandable.

He finally looked up at me and asked, “Do you know why Scarlet’s the only person I’ll talk to?”

I leaned back, stretching my arms behind me to keep myself propped up. “I have my suspicions.” But that was all I said because I wanted to wait for his answer.

It didn’t take a profiler to know that Spencer Reid was hurting, and he thought that he needed to suffer alone. He didn’t want to burden others with his troubles, and he certainly didn’t want to sit around while someone would lie to his face while telling him: “It’ll be alright” or “She’s in a better place now” or “You’ll stop hurting eventually” or some other bullshit like that. I knew that if I lost Hotch, I wouldn’t want to hear any of it. It wasn’t going to be alright, Maeve deserved to still be with him and not in some “better place”, and, honestly, he was never going to stop hurting. If she was really a soulmate—like I assumed she was—then he was never going to get over it. And I wasn’t going to sit there and lie to him. But I knew that he was scared of talking to anyone because he didn’t know who understood him like I did versus someone like Morgan who was willing to lie to him just to make themselves feel better.

“There are so many things that I wanted to say to Maeve, but couldn’t. And there are things now that I wish I could you guys, but I… I really don’t want people’s pity. I just wanted someone to talk to who would listen and not judge me. I want to be able to speak freely, to say the things I wanted to say to Maeve, to admit the things I want to say to the team, and… and I’ve found that talking to a baby is the best way to do that. You know, she’s still so young that she’ll sort of listen while she fusses in my arms, which helps distract me from wanting to cry all the time. And she doesn’t really know how to say anything except for ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ and ‘curls’.”

“Curls!” Scarlet cheered while leaping forward to reach for Reid’s hair.

He laughed and let her pull lightly on the strands of his long hair. “Like that.” When she started pulling too hard, he tickled her stomach to get her to let go. In a fit of laughter, Scarlet felt weak, collapsing in his arms while trying to fight him to make him stop. He gave up after a few more seconds. “I talk a lot about Maeve with Scarlet,” he admitted to me. “I talk about how much I miss her, and she listens. I’ve been telling her stories about our phone calls— her favorite one is the one where Maeve told me she loved me for the first time. It’s my favorite one, too. But, most of all, I’ve just been talking through my feelings with her, and it’s helped tremendously. Is that pathetic?”

“No,” I insisted quickly. “I’m glad that you’re at least getting the chance to talk to someone. It’s never good to bottle things up, Spencer, you know that. Talking to someone—even if it is just a baby—is a good first step towards healing. I’m proud of you.”

Scarlet started throwing a tantrum because she was getting tired and wanted to go home, so I let her fall into my arms while cradling her and cooing her to calm down. I wanted to stay with Reid more than anything… but duty called. The baby wanted home, and I had to give in. So, I stood, and Spencer saw me to the door. Though the hallway was just there, and I could tell that he was eager to be alone again, I turned to inspect him one more time, and I pushed his curls out of his face with my fingers. He let his eyes flutter shut.

“I’m proud of you, Spencer. Truly.”

His lip quivered as he tried to hold a sob back. Before I could see him crack, though, he practically shooed me out of his place and shut the door on my face. I sighed and looked at Scarlet. She was already asleep in my arms, sucking on her thumb while snoring. She was so like her dad.

When I got home, I found Jack passed out on the couch with his homework on the floor. Hotch was sitting with him on another cushion, reading the news on his phone. I leaned over the back of the couch and kissed his cheek. He smiled and turned his face to look at me before pressing a kiss directly against my lips. After we parted, he reached to take Scarlet from me. With my arms free, I stretched. He chuckled at me as I walked around the couch so that I could sit with him, stopping so that I could take a chance to kiss Jack and tuck him under a blanket, then I collapsed against Hotch.

“He let me in today,” I said. Hotch couldn’t believe it. “We cleaned up his place. I don’t think he’s okay, but he will be.” I nuzzled my head against his side.

“I didn’t want it to be him,” Hotch whispered.

I cocked a brow at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Out of everyone on the team, I didn’t want it to be him who had to go through what I went through.” He looked at me. “He’s so young… and he’s alone… He has no one to fall back on. He still doesn’t understand the world, and he doesn’t even understand himself. At least with Haley—” He stopped when Jack squirmed on the couch while yawning and rolling over. When we were sure that he was still asleep, Hotch continued. “At least with Haley, I had you, I had Jack… and I understood myself and the world enough to understand what was happening and why it was happening. But Spencer… He doesn’t have any of that. He’s like my family, Y/N, and I didn’t want it to be him… Anyone but him.”

I didn’t know what to say to any of that.

Hotch flung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side, then he kissed my forehead. I nuzzled against him. After spending the afternoon with Reid, I realized even more now just how lucky we were. I didn’t have to worry about missing Hotch. I didn’t have to kill myself over the fact that I wouldn’t get to hold him ever again because he was there, and he was holding me, and I was his, and we were watching our children sleep peacefully. Just to make sure it was all real, though, I grabbed Hotch’s free hand and kissed his knuckles.

“I love you,” he whispered against my hair.

“I love you more.”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Don’t make me get all cliché on you, Agent Hotchner.”

As we chuckled again, we relaxed and snuggled against each other, but we didn’t fall asleep. We couldn’t. It was too hard to rest while knowing how easy it was to lose everything. It reminded me of how we were after Haley died. We were paralyzed, but at least we had each other to get through it, and we had Jack to encourage us to get better. Spencer had no one. Spencer didn’t have a loved one to lean on, he didn’t know how to open up to people, and he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions. It was going to destroy him.

------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc​ @Braty-angel

[btsmakesmehappy]

Palate Cleanser | 4

Genre: Agent au, friends with benefit (sort of), Stranger to lover, ANGST with a hint of Fluff, implied Smut.

Pairing: Agent!Taehyung x Baker!reader

Word Count: 6,6k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: Reader feeling sad and insecure. Guns. Violence (nothing too descriptive). Taehyung is lil bit possessive because I love it.

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | completed

Series Masterlist: The Company

Summary: Taehyung needs something to take his mind off his broken heart. His best friend, Jimin, suggests that he should meet another woman and the first woman he met was you. Would you help him even though you have your own problem, that you hate men?

A/N: for my betareader @hesperantha​ thank you for help me by screaming to Taehyung while you’re drinking a whiskey (You’re right, even I won’t be able to refuse the morning thingy lmao) and my @arizonapoppy​ who patiently gives me encouragements (like a lot). I am just smiling everytime I read your feedback. Thankyou again loves. Stay safe!

anyway, just one more chapter left! Thank you for reading this fic. Please send me a feedback<3

“Do you have anything aside from bread in here?” Taehyung asked as he rummaged through your kitchen. “Don’t you ever get sick of it? You see bread at work and again at home.”

You rested your chin on your hand, watching him from the table. “Why not? The bread is good. And that one has fiber, so it’s good for your bowels.”

He looked at you in disgust. “Why do you need to discuss your bowel activity with me?”

You chuckled. “Again I have to go with: why not?” You rose from your seat, walking to him. You opened a cabinet beside the sink to show him where you stacked rice and instant noodles. “And besides, bread is more convenient, just grab and eat it. No need to cook. You can eat it anytime you want.”

“It only takes a few minutes to heat the rice or cook the noodles,” he argued,  grabbing a pack of noodles.

“It’s just bothersome to wash the dishes.” You also grabbed a pack of noodles and gave it to him with a smile, batting your lashes. “Bread is good with wine.”

He snorted as he filled the pot with water. “You don’t eat bread with wine. You eat it in between.”

“Again: why not?”

You don’t want to go back to your apartment, sad and alone. You think about going to Hani’s place, but you’re afraid that you would bother her and her fiance. You are sure that Hani will let you crash her place, but she has already helped you so much in the past. You don’t want to make her worry again.

And so, you find yourself wandering in the middle of the night alone, hopping from one stall to another.

It is your third bottle of soju in your second stall. Only God knows how many bottles you had before. Your stomach starts to hurt because you didn’t eat anything before you started drinking, and yet you don’t feel drunk.

You can’t bring yourself to care. You want to be drunk. You need to erase Taehyung’s face in your mind. You tried to.

With the thought of Taehyung, you’ve already felt your tears running on your cheeks. You are sobbing in an unknown food stall, alone.

Why are you crying exactly? Is it because he hurt you? Is it because he humiliated you in public? Is it because you want him? Is it because you hate him? Is it because you like him? Why do your tears keep flowing? Maybe you are drunk after all.

You’ve never thought that you would feel this way again. A throbbing pain inside your chest, squeezing your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. It is weird considering that you have only known Taehyung for weeks, and yet the impact he had on you is big. He changed your heart.

He somehow made you feel complete.

At first, you thought that it’s because you had great sex or maybe because you love his company in the morning. But the more you talked to him, you knew: he will always be the one you can’t get enough of. You want more.

You felt bad for throwing your drink on him. You did. But you hate him for talking to you like that. You hate him because you know he can see you thoroughly. You hate him because he was right. You hate him because he exposed you.

You’re stuck in a wave of white lies formed by you, your friends, and your family for 5 years. It was your foundation for all your work, for your life, and who you are right now. And when Taehyung dropped the ugly truth like a bomb, the already-weak foundation started to crumble.

Maybe you have always known yourself, that deep down, you don’t really hate men. Maybe you have always known that you were not good enough for Youngjae, or any man. Maybe that’s why you never get close to another man. Maybe because you’re afraid if they would tell you that you are bad for them, that you are not good enough for them.

You are afraid that you, Y/N, will never find someone who will love you.

You drop your head on the table. Your tears still flow endlessly. You take a deep breath, trying to control your mind, trying to preserve your heart from breaking into pieces. You feel nauseated, and the stabbing pain in your stomach doesn’t help either.

You hate him.

You miss him.

You want him.

And with that realization, you feel weaker than ever.

“There you are!” You jerk your head up, tears still clouding your vision. You rub your eyes with the back of your hand and your vision becomes clearer. “Muffin?” Taehyung’s face comes to your vision. His face is beaded with sweat, breaths uncontrolled like he’s been running for miles.

You turn your head from Taehyung, hiding your crying face. “What do you want?” You take a glass and pour the soju into it.

He looks at your messy table and frowns in worry. He sighs. “How many glasses did you drink?” He then snatches your glass away from you.

You shrug. “I didn’t count.” You suddenly have an urge to vomit, your stomach twisting.

Taehyung looks at you in horror. “Alright, that’s it. I am taking you home.” He says as he takes his wallet out and puts some cash on the table. “Do you have your medicine with you?” he asks as he tries to stand you up in spite of your wobbling. He tries to hold you close to him, but you push him away.

“Left it at home.” You shake your head. ”I can walk by myself,” you say as you try to nod a polite thanks to the seller, but end up stumbling sideways as you exit the stall.

Taehyung wants to argue with you but he decides to shut his mouth and instead he just walks with you in the distance, guarding you from afar. It makes his heart stops, however, when you suddenly trip over your foot and fall to the ground. He runs to your side to make sure you are okay. And when you refuse to hold onto him, he has had enough. While you protest, he pulls you to his broad back to give you a piggyback-ride.

“Put me down!” You struggle to push him away, but subconsciously your arms hold his shoulders tightly.

“No.” He hisses. “Just let me walk you home, Y/N. For my own sanity.” After you are calmer, he then starts to walk slowly.

You prop your chin on his shoulder. You’re close enough to smell his cologne, and it comforts you. You feel the warmth from his back dangerously spreading to your body, making your heart ache.

He stops his step when he hears you sniffling. “Muffin?” He asks while he soothes your thighs softly.

“You can’t do this to me.” You whisper in between your sobs.

Taehyung turns his head a little to see your face from the corner of his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t just make me comfortable with you, and then yell at me like that, and then do this to me.” You sob. “It’s so confusing. It is so unfair.”

Taehyung feels a stir in his chest. He wants to see you. He wants to wipe all of those tears away from your pretty face. He wants to see your smile. He looks around and finds a bench on the sidewalk. He walks towards it and then lowers his back to make you sit on it. He then turns his body and sits on his heels in front of you.

He looks at your red eyes. He feels guilty. He is mad at himself for being the one who made you cry, cursing himself for saying those cruel words to you before. He reaches out and takes your face in his hands carefully. His thumbs wipe the track of your tears. “I am sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean it.”

You shake your head weakly. “No. You were right.” You can’t even look at his eyes anymore, you feel that you are not worthy. “Maybe I was the problem.”

The pain in his chest grows stronger. He was lucky to be just fine after his broken heart. But you? You hid all of your pain inside, covered by your smiles, and drowned in your work. And yet, you wanted to help him, even though you yourself are broken. He strokes your cheeks softly. “What- No, muffin. Look at me.” You shake your head in his request. “Please, look at me.”

You sigh and raise your head to meet his eyes. There’s no pity in his eyes. No exposing yourself. Just him.

“He’s a jerk, Y/N. He didn’t deserve you.” He reassures you. He then leans and puts his forehead against yours. “You weren't the problem. You’re never the problem.” His voice trembles in the wind. Deep and comforting.

With his voice so close to you, his large hands hot on your skin, you feel like you will cry. Your tears threaten to fall down again. “You’re a perfect woman. You’re smart, pretty, hardworking, and kind. Don’t you think otherwise, okay?”

You should hate him. You should push him away, or maybe kick him in the shins. You should not lean into his touch. You should not put your hands on his. You should not let him kiss your forehead lovingly. You should not let him hug you tightly. You should not hug him back. And you should not sink your face in his shoulder. And you definitely should not forgive him that easily.

But you do anyway.

Maybe the alcohol running through your veins plays a large part, but the truth is, deep down in your heart, you feel relieved. You feel safe. You want to be in his embrace. You want to touch him. You want him to touch you. You want him entirely. This feels so right.

Taehyung strokes your back softly, kissing your shoulder in the process. He apologizes over and over again in a whisper. Like a spell, it calms you down. He then pulls away, pushing your hair behind your ears. He looks at your eyes. His eyes shine brightly, reflecting the streetlight above you. Taehyung then inches forward to you, targeting your lips.

His kiss feels different from before -- soft, but desperate. He kisses to show you that everything will be fine, you will be fine. He kisses to show you that you are his and his alone.

It is the kiss of two people who long for love. Who long for each other. Who were lost in the past, but found each other.

A kiss that shows that now it’s just you and him. And nothing else matters.

He breaks away the kiss after a while and you both catch your breath. You can still hear your heart thumping through your ears. He smiles softly to you and pats your head. “Let’s go home, alright?” He reaches and takes your hand, your soft fingers intertwined with his calloused ones.

Even with the cold wind blowing, you have never felt this warmer, you have never felt this complete. There’s no exchanging words after that. But just with one look at each other eyes, stolen kisses now and then, and your hand in his. You have never felt this loved.

Taehyung stayed in your place that night. You fell asleep in each other’s embrace, neither one of you daring to let go. You awake in his cuddle, safe and warm. He touches your swollen eye and kisses them softly. “Morning, muffin.” He smiles. “I think you should ice them a little bit.”

You smile. “Yeah, I think I should.” You sit up from your bed and stretch your body. You then walk to the fridge, rummaging inside to find an ice cube to put on your eyes. You are glad that the hangover is not that bad, maybe because you hurled most of it in your bathroom with Taehyung holding your hair back. Still, your head has a throbbing pain.

“So,” Taehyung asks groggily as he sits up. “You’ll still do the event, I assume?”

You turn your head to him, smiling apologetically. “I am afraid so.” You then turn to the kitchen, pulling a mug from the cabinet and filling it with water to wash down the painkiller you find in the odds-and-ends drawer.

Taehyung sighs and rises from the bed and walks towards you. He sneaks his hand on your waist from behind, pulling you closer to him. He then props his chin on your shoulder. “Just please be careful, okay? And keep me informed.” He kisses the nape of your neck quickly. “I don’t like that guy.”

Your heart leaps in joy. You turn your body to meet his, still in his hold. You then put your arms on across his neck. “Okay.” You smile widely. “I didn’t think of you as a jealous type of a guy.”

He pouts. “I am not jealous! He IS dangerous.”

You hide your smile because you find him very cute. “Sure thing.” You stand on tiptoe and give his lips a peck. You can see a blush starting to form on his cheeks.

He then pushes you until your back hits the counter and kisses you back. When he pulls away, he looks at your face carefully. He pushes your hair behind your ears, making you shiver. “So, Y/N.” He clears his throat. “Are you okay?”

You bury your face on his chest, hugging him tightly. “I think I will be okay.” I have you now.

“So, Y/N...”

You giggle softly at his antics. This is the Taehyung that you always know. “What?”

His hands move to cup your cheeks, raising your face to look at him. “I-I want to be with you. Is it weird to think like that?”

You grin from ear to ear, hope blooming inside you. You have never been treated like this before. The way Taehyung talks and touches you, you feel cherished. He makes you think that you are precious. And the way he looks at you right now, it’s like he wants to tell the world that you are the only thing that matters to him. You belong to him -- and you do, gladly. “Is it weird that I also feel the same?”

He smiles widely and takes you in his embrace. “Not at all.” He then kisses your temple softly. “So, do you need to go to work soon, or we can do something first?”

You raise one of your eyebrows in confusion. Just when you want to ask what he means, he smirks mischievously and winks. You hit his shoulder playfully. “What do you think I am?”

He shrugs. “You are Y/N. And besides, we’ve already slept together countless times.” He whines.

You laugh. “Unfortunately I must go to work soon. Maybe later.” You say as you kiss his cheek before you walk away to the bathroom. Leaving him alone in your kitchen.

In spite of the way Taehyung affects you, you are not aware of what you have done to him. Just this morning, when he looked at your half-awake face in front of him, in his embrace, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Taehyung has lost his love to another man before, but he won’t let it happen now.

Is it weird that he wants to be the one to make you happy? He wants to be the man who tells you every day that you are beautiful. He wants to be the one who eats breakfast with you every morning. He wants to be the one who protects you. He wants to be the one who will love you for the rest of your life.

He is doomed for sure. Right now, the only thing that stuck in his mind is your smile, and that little thing is enough to make him happy.

It’s finally Saturday. The biggest event in your whole career. You are nervous, for sure, but your mind was distracted by Taehyung this morning. He was so clingy and reluctant to let you go. It took you almost half an hour to finally be released from his cuddle, which he agreed to do if you called him every hour with a pout in his face. You laughed at his antics, he was being so unreasonably possessive with you, not in a bad way. No, not at all. Honestly, you found him very adorable. You just couldn’t fathom what’s the harm doing this event.

You’ve been making the cakes for the party since the morning. It’s sad that the organizer actually wants more cakes instead of your bread. It makes sense however; it is a party. Why would anyone want to eat bread at the party?

Hani is the one who makes the cakes in your bakery. She is a trained patissier, which is why you and Hani joined forces to start your bakery. You make the bread while Hani makes the cakes. Still, you are the one in charge of designing the sweets corner for this event. She gave it up for you to do. You do think that she gives it to you so you wouldn’t be sad. Sure, she won’t admit that, she just told you that she sucks at designing the corner.

“Oh my God, My back is killing me.” Hani mumbles. “This had better be worth it.”

“I know right? I hope so.” You stretch your body. Your eyes dart to the clock on the wall. You must go in an hour.

Wendy pops her head in the kitchen. “The car is ready, boss!” She smiles. You personally asked her to help you with renting a car. Your bakery is not that big, so you still don’t have a car for now. You usually use your friend’s car for delivery, but the car broke down suddenly, leaving you with no other choice to rent a car just for this event.

Hani looks at the boxes and then turns to Wendy. “So, can you load some of the boxes into the car? There are still some cakes we need to decorate first.” Wendy nods and then carefully loads the boxes into the car.

In less than 30 minutes, the car is already packed with cake boxes. You sigh in relief, glad that you can make it on time. After making sure that everything is loaded in the car for the hundredth of times, you lock your bakery and walk to the car.

“So is everything okay?” You turn your head to the source of the sound, finding Chanyeol standing beside your car. “Nice to see you again, Y/N.”

You smile at him. “Oh hey, nice to see you! Yes. Everything is good and we’re ready to go.” You shake his hand happily. He looks good in the tuxedo suit, with his hair pulled back, but there’s no weird feeling inside your chest, no butterfly dancing in your stomach. Instead, you think of Taehyung, how he will be so handsome in the suit. I am so whipped. You think as you shake your head.

Chanyeol looks at you from the top to the toe. “You look nice. Is that lipstick?”

You snort and hit his shoulder playfully, “Duh. Of course.” You smooth your chef’s jacket. Hani was the one who forced you to do your make-up. And what Hani orders, Hani gets. It would be too bothersome to refuse her. “This is an important event after all.”

He chuckles. “Sure, it’s a good idea.” He then pats your head softly.

“Y/N, come on. We have to go.” Hani interrupts. She then nods politely to Chanyeol.

“Oh, you’re right! Alright, see you at the party then.” You wave to him as you start your car and drive away.

“Man, look at him patting Y/N’s head. Who does he think he is?” Taehyung mumbles in the car. Taehyung and Hoseok were supposed to stalk Chanyeol, so when Chanyeol decided to show up at your bakery, Taehyung was happy and mad simultaneously. He is happy to see you, but he is mad, for sure, to watch Chanyeol interact with you.

Hoseok who sits beside him chuckles. “Stop being such a jealous boyfriend.”

Taehyung pouts. “I am not jealous.” He sighs. “I- I just.. Why did he visit her in the first place?” He folds his arms in his chest.

Hoseok looks at Taehyung’s face carefully and smiles. He is happy that his brother finally met someone who makes him this mess. Hoseok is also a little startled that Taehyung didn’t even deny being called your boyfriend. But he decides to keep the teasing for another time, at least for now. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s plotting something?”

Taehyung turns his face to Hoseok, his face crumpled in worry. “What? And why are we here? We should just arrest him.” He then tries to open the door.

“Woah-woah.” Hoseok takes a grip on Taehyung’s arm. “Easy, lover boy. I just said maybe.”

Taehyung sits back. He still seems uneasy with the fact that Chanyeol will be around you. What if he hurts you at the party? What does Chanyeol plan?

Hoseok smiles fondly at Taehyung. “Should we sneak into the party, then?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen. “Can- can we do that?” He remembers correctly that they shouldn’t approach the target, furthermore, doing so would basically be rebelling against Jin’s order -- The Company’s orders --  and as far as he knows, it won’t end well. But he can at least protect you if Chanyeol does something.

Hoseok hides his smile. “Sure, why not?” he winks and drives his car to the party. “It's still our job to stalk him.”

The party is grandiose. That’s for sure. They use the biggest hall in the city and fill it with flowers and food. The big chandelier shines brightly in the middle of the room, like the room itself hasn’t screamed luxury in the first place. The walls painted with ivory and gold matched well with the maroon carpet in the room. Sure, you had known that this hall is the most expensive in the city, but damn, it is beautiful. You will die happy if you marry in such a nice place.

The party is in an hour, and you must finish displaying and decorating the sweets corner before any guest arrives. Wendy then puts the cakes in the refrigerated display case and sets the ones which can stay in the room temperature on the table, while you and Hani decorate the table. Within 30 minutes you’re finished, and you secure the remaining cakes to refill later under the table, hidden with the high-quality tablecloth. You hope that no cakes are dropped on it, because well, it sure will be a pain and expensive to clean.

The room begins to fill with expensive-looking guests. You thank God (and Hani) silently that you wore your makeup for tonight. At least you won’t look too shabby in front of pretentious people.

The three of you stand quietly near your sweet corner. The MC will open the party before the guests can start to eat. Some guests are lurking at your corner curiously, thanks to your scribbled diet-friendly cakes sign you pasted on it. The curious guests – who almost all girls- are mumbling to themselves because of the long opening. They want to eat soon. You are almost sure that they have starved themselves just for this event. And that’s also why you and Hani decided to use your most famous diet-friendly recipe that your customers love to gain attention.

Just after the MC invites the guests to start to eat, your corner fills with starving girls. Wendy begins serving them as You and Hani explain your bakery to some of the guests. It seems that the magazine where Chanyeol works is a well-known magazine because most of the guests notice your bakery immediately at the big party. And some of the guests, mostly businessmen and women, express an even greater  interest in your bakery, asking  you personally if they can open your bakery as a franchise, which makes you feel honored.

“Alright, do you want to take a break in turns? I can handle this for now.” You say to Hani and Wendy, looking at your almost-emptied-table. “You should eat something too, Hani. You worked the hardest. Also, Chanyeol said that we can eat in the back.”

Hani’s eyes twinkle. “Oh, thank you! I’ve been holding my pee for a while now.” She then drags Wendy with her. “You should go eat first.”

Wendy shakes her head slowly and smiles. “Thank you, but I’m fine, really.”

“Nonsense! You are still our part-timer, and we are required by law to make sure you take a break during your shift. You have been working for almost eight hours!” Hani says to Wendy as she puts her hands on her hips.

You chuckle at Hani’s actions. There’s no way Wendy refuses Hani’s order, so she just nods and walks with her.

“Alright, take good care of our corner then!” Hani waves to you. “We’ll be fast.”

You then look around the room. You can see some of the familiar faces in the room, mostly from the newspaper or the TV. Ministers and other politicians are scattered among actors and actresses. Oh my God, is that Lee Minho? Is it possible for me to take a picture with him? You shake your head softly, you are here to work, not being a stupid fangirl in this big party.

You then decided to refill the cakes on the table, thinking that there’s no good reason for leaving the table empty. You kneel behind the table, opening the table cloth. When you take the highest box of cakes outside, you hear a thud. Something is falling to the ground.

You put the box on your side and take your phone out of your pocket. You switch the flashlight on from the phone to look inside. There are only a couple of boxes inside, so you are actually confused by the sound because as you remembered, you had nothing inside that’s not filled with cakes.

You look carefully at the back and find a tumbled box. Silently you curse yourself that you carelessly dropped a box of your cakes. You take the box carefully, hoping that the cake wasn’t messed up, but you frown at the weight of it.

It’s not the weight of a cake. You put the box on the floor, your phone on your side. Is it our utensils? You open it carefully.

Your eyes widen when you see what’s inside. Your hands are shaking terribly. You have only seen one in movies, never in real life. A gun. Why the hell did it end here, inside your cakebox, under your fucking table?

Before you can do anything, you hear a click and something poking behind you. You freeze when you hear the voice. “You should just do your job and serve cakes, Y/N.”

You tilt your head a little, trying to see from the corner of your eyes. “Chanyeol?”

He smirks to you most frighteningly and you feel your knees weaken. “Hey, sweetie.”

“What the hell do you want to do?” You whisper to him as he pushes the gun harshly to your back. “Is this yours?”

“Sssh. You're gonna ruin the fun.”

Then your eyes dart to Wendy who stops a few steps before you. She looks at you with her eyes widened and the only thing in your head is to tell her to go as far as possible. “Wendy! Go away!” You yell to her, but she is still freezing at the spot.

Wendy looks at you and Chanyeol alternately. She then sighs and walks towards you. “You do love drama, don’t you?” She asks with disgust in her face. She then takes the cake box from the floor and picks up the gun.

“It’s your fault. Can’t you hide it better?” Chanyeol glares at her, his gun still pushing into your flesh.

You are flabbergasted. Wendy? Why? You look at her with terror in your eyes. Your hands and legs are shaking. And if Chanyeol wasn’t holding your arms painfully, you are almost sure that you would fall.

Wendy smirks to you, “Hi, boss.”

“You...” You hiss. “Did you plan this?” You are terrified, but at the same time, you are mad at Wendy. You feel betrayed. She is supposed to be part of your team. Did she work in your bakery for this?

Chanyeol chuckles. “Shut the fuck up, woman.” He then shoves you to Wendy, who readily grabs you tightly and pushes the gun she is now holding to your side. “Take her. She can’t ruin our plan.”

Your eyes widen in panic. “What? Where are you taking me? I promise I won’t tell anyone! I know nothing!”

Wendy smiles, “Too late, boss. You’re coming with us right now.”

Taehyung and Hoseok arrive just a few minutes after the party starts. They then split up and looked for Chanyeol. Chanyeol tonight seems professional, talking to every guest with a smile on his face. Taehyung glances at your corner, you look happy too, enjoying your job to the fullest. It is what he likes about you, how passionate you are about your job. He is so busy looking at you from a distance he doesn’t even realize a man walking towards him.

“What are you doing here?”

He turns his head abruptly and his eyes widen. “Jin-Hyung? Wha- What are you doing here?”

Jin snorts. “Answer me first, brat. Don’t tell me that you’re abandoning your post again,” he demands harshly, looking at the glass of wine in Taehyung’s hand.

“What? No!” Taehyung gulps. “Well, it’s just Chanyeol seems weird, so Hoseok-hyung and I decided to sneak in.” He gives a half-smile. “What are you doing here?” Hoseok sees them from afar then decides to come and join them, bringing Jungkook with him.

“Chanyeol?” Jin raises his eyebrow. “That’s a coincidence. Baekhyun is also here.”

Hoseok gawks. “What?”

Jin nods. “Yes, that means something’s fishy here.”

Taehyung then suddenly looks around to find Chanyeol, he turns to panic when he can’t find him. “Hoseok-hyung, I lost him.” Eyes still wandering inside the room.

Hoseok frowns, “What do you mean you lost him? He was right at the-“ Hoseok freezes. He can’t find Chanyeol anywhere either. “Oh, fuck.”

Jin glares at them. “What the fuck are you doing? Kook, where’s Baekhyun?”

Jungkook answers timidly. “I think we lost him too, hyung.”

Jin grits his teeth and moves to search for him, followed by Jungkook and Hoseok. Taehyung however, subconsciously looks for you but you are nowhere in his sight. His heart races inside his chest. He gets a terrible feeling. He needs to see you.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hani half running. Her eyes are scanning the room. She then stops when her eyes meet Taehyung’s. “Hani! Where is Y/N?” Taehyung asks urgently.

She shakes her head weakly. “I don’t know, Y/N was supposed to wait here at our table, but when I came back from the bathroom I couldn’t find her anywhere. I checked the bathroom, but she wasn’t there either. Or in the kitchen. She has never behaved like this before.” She bites his nails anxiously. “Wendy, our part-timer is missing too.”

Taehyung pulls out his phone and dials your number. He hears a faint sound of your ringtone, so it must be nearby. But his face turns pale when he finds your phone under the table, with the flashlight still on.

Something terrible must have happened to you.

“Hani, please stay in the crowd, okay? Call your fiance to pick you up now. I’ll go find Y/N.” Taehyung pats her shoulder.

“What?” Hani’s eyes widen. “What’s wrong with Y/N?” He can see tears forming in her eyes as she grips his hands desperately.

Taehyung clears his throat. He wants to tell her that you’re okay, but even he isn’t sure about your whereabouts. “Just trust me, I’ll find her. Don’t worry.” He smiles dryly, hoping that she can be reassured.

Hani still worries about you, but it’s not that she can do or say anything, so she just nods weakly to Taehyung and lets him walk away, hoping that you will be alright.

Taehyung calls Yoongi immediately. He may be the only one who can help him find you. Yoongi answers just in a few rings. “Hyung? I need your help.” His eyes never stop looking for your face in the crowd.

Yoongi hums, “Look, kid. I am a little busy right now. Can you ask the others?”

“I can’t. You are the only one who can hack into the CCTV.”

There is silence on the phone. “You mean CCTV in the Big Hall?” Yoongi asks confusedly. “What are you doing in there?”

“I’m not alone -- Hoseok, Jungkook, and even Jin are here too.” He frowns his eyebrow. “Wait, How do you know about The Big Hall?”

“We got a tip from Jiseok. Someone is going to target Lee Baekho. We’re on the way there right now.”

Taehyung’s jaw drops. “What? Okay, get here soon.” He bites his nails nervously. Is it connected to your disappearance? “Ehm.. Hyung, there is also a girl missing.”

“What? What the fuck are you guys doing in there?” Yoongi yells. “Jimin and I are coming to you soon. Who’s the girl?”

“I can’t find Baekho anywhere in this hall.” Jungkook says in gasping breath.

Jin curses, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck. I can’t see Chanyeol or Baekhyun either.” He folds his hand in front of his chest. “Do you see anything, Yoongi?”

Yoongi shakes his head in front of his laptop. All of the agents gather in the dressing room behind the hall after searching for Baekho and you. “I think they planned this thoroughly. All of the CCTV feeds turned off abruptly at the same time.” He still looks at the screen carefully. “Oh, wait -- I got something.”

All of the members crowd the laptop. The screen then showed how you knelt to pick a box, and Taehyung’s breath stopped for a bit. Y/N! After Yoongi zooms in, they all can see there is a gun inside it. The screen then shows how Chanyeol walked closer to you, and then shoved you at Wendy forcefully and went to the back, with guns in their hands. Aimed at you.

“Isn’t it Y/N?” Hoseok whispers. Hoseok, too, is flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe that they involved you like this.

Taehyung gulps. He turns his hands into fists, shaking in fury. How dare he? How dare he touch you like that? He then pulls the handgun from the holster at Jungkook’s waist and walks away. His eyes burned with rage.

“What the fuck, Taehyung!” Hoseok stops Taehyung immediately. “You can’t just barge in carelessly, it’s dangerous for Y/N too!” He then signals Jimin and Jungkook to stop Taehyung too, snatching the gun from his hand.

The gun falls from Taehyung’s grip. He can’t think of anything, there is only you in his mind. He needs to see you. He must save you. “So what do you want me to do? Just sit here, waiting for her to come back?” He snaps, struggling to free himself from Jimin and Jungkook. “I just can’t let him do this to Y/N.”

Jimin then puts his hand on Taehyung’s face, hitting his cheeks lightly to wake him up. His struggles then stop. “She must be terrified,” Taehyung says weakly, tears unknowingly falling on his cheeks. His body turns weak in Jimin’s hold.

“Alright, who the fuck is Y/N? Is she a part of Black?” Jin asks impatiently.

Seeing Taehyung fall into his despair, comforted by Jimin, Hoseok turns to Jin. “She’s Chanyeol’s friend from school. She’s the owner of a bakery -- she was just here providing cakes. Chanyeol was the one who asked her to be one of the caterers.”

“And you can’t even report that kind of thing?” Jin snaps, hitting the table beside him.

Hoseok winces at Jin’s sudden outburst. “Well, we thought she wouldn't be any harm to our operation. And besides, Taehyung has already investigated her personally.”

Jungkook perks up at the explanation. “Personally?”

“Well, she is, uhh...” Hoseok cautiously explains. “She is Taehyung’s friend.” Making all of them turn stiff with the information.

Jin sighs and looks at Taehyung in sympathy. “Yoongi, can you find where she is now?” His voice turns softer.

Yoongi nods. “I think, based on the route and the location of the dead CCTV, she is in the warehouse. We haven’t checked it yet.” He points to a room on the blueprint of the Big Hall. His eyes turn to his screen again, squinting as his small eyes follow a figure walking to the back. “I think I found Baekho. He’s going in that direction too.”

“Good, alright then.” Jin then walks to Taehyung and pats his shoulder softly. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

Taehyung looks at the rifle in his hand. It has been a long time since he held or even fired a gun. He knows he is good at it. Too good, even. The last time he fired a gun or a rifle was when he was a recruit. Even in Hawaii, in his last mission, he didn’t even bring his gun with him. Call it naive, but Taehyung always thinks that he can’t protect anyone with his gun. Guns are destructive. Guns can’t protect anyone.

He can’t protect anyone.

But not this time. He won’t let another man die. A woman. His woman.

The rage in his eyes is detectable. He reminds himself to punch Chanyeol in the face later, for involving you like this. You are in danger right now. And Taehyung won’t let anything happen to you.

Jin decided that it would be best to shoot the suspect from afar if he shows any suspicious activity. They have you as a hostage. There are 2 suspects, or maybe 3 since Baekhyun hasn’t shown himself, and they all have guns. Thus, they can’t just barge into the warehouse. That’s how Taehyung ended up in a nearby building with a rifle in his hand.

The rifle is Jungkook’s. Only God knows why he has a rifle in the trunk of his car, that fact alone will get Jungkook in trouble. He was the one who was supposed to do the shooting. But Taehyung knew it was going to be hard for Jungkook. Although Jungkook is good at firearms, he still can’t handle long-range shooting well without a scope. Yeah, who brings a rifle without a scope nowadays? That’s why Taehyung decided to do it by himself.

It was shocking to everyone. Taehyung, who always refuses to hold a gun, suddenly snatched a gun from an agent’s holder at first, and then volunteered himself to do the shooting. Taehyung, who always avoids going on missions involving firearms, decides to step up.

Well, it’s not that he wanted to. He wanted to stay as close as possible with you, he wanted to join the others to barge into the warehouse, he wanted to be the one who hugs you first when you are safe, but still, it’s his job and he is the best at it. There is no other choice.

Taehyung braces the rifle with both hands, closing his right eye, trying to stay low as possible. He can see how terrified you are from there, and with that sight alone, he almost fires his bullet into Chanyeol.

He then steady his breaths and closes his eyes, trying to calm himself. It is his habit he does whenever he uses his gun or rifle, a habit that somehow he remembers despite his avoidance of firearms. And after five deep breaths, he opens his eyes and is ready to fire.

Taglist: @kb-bangtanenthusiast​ @w0lfqu33n​ @gee-nee​ @jaienn​ @nctssidehoe​

Taglist still open!

[catboymingi]

second chances

navi/masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 2.1k

warnings: insecurity which leads to an unhealthy (not abusive!) relationship, some language

jos meijän rakkaus alkaa rappeutua / muistuta mua / et haavoja on ennenki ommeltu / jos tulee päivii ku sä itket mua ja mä itken sua / muistuta mua / et kyyneleit on ollu myös onnesta / sä rakastit mua ku mä en rakastanu itseäni / en tajuu miten sen oon voinu peittää itseltäni - if our love starts to crumble / remind me / that we’ve sewn our dreams back together in the past already / if the days come where you cry about me and i cry about you / remind me / that there's also been tears of joy / you loved me when i didn’t love myself / i don’t get how i was able to hide that from myself

mingi and you had always thought the other was too good for you, that you didn’t deserve them. in the beginning, that had been a reason for happiness, always in a state of ecstasy when you spent time together. with time, however, it proved to be more of an issue than anything. you were both trying to trust that this could, would, last, but you had fears, and those fears turned into doubts, and those doubts gnawed at what you both agreed was the best thing to ever happen to you. and you started to argue, arguments in which more tears flowed than words were spoken, arguments you’d always been able to solve, though. but this time felt different.

“just admit you don’t want to be with me anymore!”, mingi yelled at you. you didn’t even remember why he’d gotten scared this time, one of you always finding a reason.

“i do. i want to be with you.” you were trying to stay calm, but it was so hard when he looked so hurt and so angry and when he made you feel so hurt and so angry.

“you don’t act like it!” you knew he was screaming to hide his fear, his fear that he was right, that you wanted to leave him. you’d done the same thing not long enough ago.

“mingi-”, you tried, but he interrupted whatever you were about to say.

“i try so fucking hard to be good but it seems like i’m never good enough.” by now you could clearly see the tears in his eyes, and you could feel that you were about to cry as well.

“i love you, mingi. why can’t you believe me? why can’t you trust me?” it hurt to see him in pain like this, but it hurt just as much that, no matter what you said or did, he wouldn’t believe you.

“because you don’t show it!” deep down he knew he was being unfair. he knew you tried your best, just as he did. he knew you. but right now that didn’t matter, what mattered was the fear clouding his mind, the fear that he would lose you. what he didn’t realise, though, was that he was about to by acting like this.

“mingi…” now your tears were falling and you had to stop talking to take a shaky breath. “mingi… i love you. i do. but i don’t want this. i don’t want to argue all the time because we just can’t trust each other. i don’t want you to cry because of me, and i don’t want to cry because of you. i want the happy tears back. i want the happy times back.” you sounded so defeated that all he wanted to do was hold you and tell you he was sorry and tell you that it’d be okay. but maybe it wouldn’t. maybe the two of you’s insecurities had ruined things. so instead of doing as he wanted to he just looked at you, no longer trying to hold back the tears either. and that was all you needed. the silent confirmation that deep down, he felt the same way.

“i’ll go now.” and you left, leaving him to cry by himself, just as you were about to.

you ignored his calls, and his messages telling you that he was sorry. didn’t leave the house if you didn’t have to, and looked like a shadow of yourself when you did. you felt empty. you loved him and you knew he loved you, and you knew that this wasn’t his fault alone, that you were just as guilty. but you didn’t know what to do. you wanted to spend your life with him, but not if it hurt like this. so you tried to move on. not that it worked, but you tried. still, deep down, you wanted nothing more than for things to be okay. than to be back with him and be back on that high you had at the beginning of your relationship. but it wasn’t easy like that.

you kept ignoring him, and his attempts at contacting you got less, until all he sent was a message in the mornings and in the evenings saying “good morning, i still love you” or “goodnight, i still love you”. you were about to give in, you wanted to, but you knew it wouldn’t fix things. it hurt to leave him on read when he was telling you he loved you. you wanted to tell him you loved him too, always had, always would, the only thing stopping you knowing that it would make it impossible for him to move on. and he deserved to move on.

when you saw mingi had sent you a message that wasn’t his usual good morning or goodnight, you got worried. it just said ‘please, if you can stand to, come over’, and that made you think that something was wrong. he wasn’t the type to ask you to come over when you obviously didn’t want to see him, he always gave you your space while reminding you he loved you, gave you as much time as you needed. and even now he hadn’t asked you to get back with him or come over even once, only apologising and telling you he loved you. so you didn’t even think about it, you went to his place as fast as you could.

“mingi!” you eyed him up and down as he opened the door, looking for signs of physical injury, but he seemed okay. or, he still had all his limbs and no obvious wounds. but he’d lost weight and he had dark circles under his eyes and you knew all too well what that meant, looking the same way yourself. he wasn’t over you. at all.

“y/n…” there was a mixture of fear and love in his eyes. he wasn’t sure how you felt about him. he wasn’t sure if you hated him.

“are you okay? are you hurt?” you were worried. of course you were. and this reaction from you, coming over without even questioning why he wanted you to, worrying and making sure he was okay even when he’d done nothing but hurt you, just let him see even more how stupid he’d been when he feared you didn’t love him, when he feared that if you could you’d get someone else, someone better. you were right there, ignoring your own wants and needs to be there for him. he was a fucking idiot.

“i’m fine. i didn’t think you’d come, honestly.” your expression softened as you looked at him, instinctively taking one of his hands in yours.

“of course i came. you wouldn’t have asked me to if you didn’t really need me here. you never do.”

“i just… do you want to go to the indoor playground with me?” this surprised you, eyes widening, but you could see that he was being serious. he could sense your hesitation, though, telling you that he’d understand if you didn’t want to, and that he’d leave you alone if that was really what you wanted. and you knew you should tell him that you didn’t want to hear from him again, but the fact that he’d asked you to come and the place he’d suggested to go to and the way he did seem serious about leaving you alone entirely, not even sending a single message anymore, made you agree to go.

and here you were, at the same place you’d had your first date all those months ago. and like back then he insisted on paying. and like back then he went to the trampolines with you (though he asked you if it was okay this time, while back then he’d dragged your hand and pulled you with him while you were laughing loudly). but unlike back then he didn’t start jumping while you were still getting on, making you lose balance and leaving you unable to get up until he generously stopped jumping. instead he just sat there, looking at you, unsure if he should ask you to sit next to him or not. unsure if that was okay. and you could see that he was unsure, nervous, and while you weren’t ready to sit next to him yet you sat down right in front of him, knees touching.

“what’s this for?”, you asked curiously, voice soft, letting him know that you weren’t angry.

“i wanted to see you smile again. you smiled a lot when i took you here the first time.” of course you had. it had been the best first date you’d ever had. the best date you’d ever had at all, excluding the other ones you had with mingi which he made sure reached the bar he’d set with the first one. surrounded by people (kids, let’s be real) maybe half as tall as mingi you’d been goofing around and acting more excitable than any of them.

“i don’t know if you still want to be around me”, he continued, voice low and a lot more quiet than you were used to from him. “i know it’s been awful lately. i don’t have an excuse and i won’t try to explain it if you don’t ask me to.” you didn’t need to. you knew exactly why he’d been acting like this - you’d done the same. “but i remembered all the fun dates and fun not-dates and all of it and i miss it and i miss you. and i want to go back. i want to be like that again, taking you out on fun dates instead of screaming at you.”

it all sounded so perfect. you wanted nothing more than that, still as in love with him as you’d always been. but who’d promise you it’d be different now? who’d guarantee that in two months time you wouldn’t be screaming and crying again?

he could easily read the expression on your face. “if you don’t want to, tell me. but i want to try. you always made… you always make me so happy. if you want we can like… break up and i’ll try again from the start. i don’t care. i love you.”

you felt the tears in your eyes, but this time, for the first time in what felt like forever, they were happy tears again.

“i swear if you break up with me now…” you didn’t know how to finish the threat. you didn’t want to. didn’t want to imagine that he might.

“you’ll have to hold me at gunpoint for that to happen”, he told you, grabbing your hands hesitantly, pulling you in to hug him when you didn’t resist his touch.

“i love you.” he whispered it into your ear time and time again, your face buried in his shoulder, where it belonged. where you belonged. and it felt like all the broken pieces fell into place again the longer you sat there with him, actually believing what he said. you knew it wouldn’t be perfect, but here he was, fighting for you, trying to fix things. and that was all you could ask for.

“let’s try.” a small kiss on his cheek, and the smile that almost made his eyes disappear, the smile that you loved so much, made its way to his face. then he dragged you up with him, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up while he started jumping, seeming even happier than the first time he’d brought you here.

“mingi, you’re gonna f-” before you could finish your squealed warning the thing you had tried to warn about happened, he fell over backwards, landing on his butt with you crashing down on him because he just absolutely could not let you go, not even when he was about to break all his bones. but he was laughing and so were you, laughing off all the tension from the past days, weeks, months, just laughing until you were out of breath.

“get off”, mingi told you, still smiling wide but realising that the position you were in was pretty uncomfortable for him.

“mm.” you didn’t want to move away from him yet.

“please.” his laughter making his chest vibrate, which in turn gently shook your body.

“fine.” but before you did so, you kissed him quickly. he’d been expressing his feelings so openly now, and you hadn’t at all yet. that had to be changed right at this moment.

“i love you too.”

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

The Revived - Chapter 16:

This is chapter 16 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @dramaticsnakes​ and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur, Tubbo, Ranboo, Michael

Word count: 3504

Cw: implied loneliness, discussions of bad coping mechanisms, jokes about drugs, guilt

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

The evening in the mansion was rather quiet and peaceful, all things considered. Michael had immediately handed the drawing to Wilbur, who reluctantly kept it close. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Tubbo or Ranboo to see it. Not so much because of his own appearance in it, but because he realized that the sight of his ghost counterpart would likely bring up some bad memories.

Another thing that was mostly quiet during the evening was the actual ghost counterpart, much to Wilbur’s dismay. It was simpler, to distract himself from it when Ranboo and Tubbo were talking to him during dinner, or when Michael wanted to show him something, but it bothered him nonetheless. Tubbo and Ranboo had let Wilbur stay in a medium-sized bed in an almost empty room, with a couple of boxes in the corner. Wilbur had promptly excused himself to it, once the silence in his mind, and the chaos from outside, became a little overwhelming.

“Ghostbur?” Wilbur asked, once the door was closed safely behind him.

There was a moment of silence before he heard a quiet gasp. “Oh! Hello!” Ghostbur said, sounding excited to be addressed, but disheartened nonetheless.

“Did you have a good day?” Wilbur asked, taking a deep breath, a little relieved to hear the familiar voice again. “You didn’t say much, so I wasn’t sure.”

“Ah, sorry!” Ghostbur said.

“There’s no need,” Wilbur said, gently. “You can talk if you want to, or remain quiet if you want.” He shrugged, because it shouldn’t matter to him after all.

“Right, right…” Ghostbur said, and Wilbur wasn’t entirely sure if it was understanding or defeat.

Wilbur strolled towards the bed, and sat down, at the tempting mattress. His limbs grew heavier at the feeling. He hummed, thinking of what to say. “Did you know Michael drew you?”

“Huh?” Ghostbur asked, a bit of interest creeping into his tone.

“He did! He made a little crayon drawing of you and Friend.” He laughed slightly at the sentence, “And me.”

“He did?” Ghostbur said, familiar excitement slipping into the words, “What does it look like?”

Wilbur went on to explain as many details of the drawings he could reasonably give, despite the minimalist art style. The ghost listened intently. It was strange, the peace Wilbur suddenly felt, as the ghost sounded gradually happier, and he was sitting there alone as the night grew darker outside. Eventually, the inevitability of sleep snuck up on Wilbur. It felt strange, unfair even, to leave Ghostbur hanging like that. Not that Wilbur concerned himself with it of course, but it was a bit sad to think about the silence Ghostbur would experience, as soon as Wilbur drifted off to sleep.

But it happened nonetheless, and the darkness surrounded him, carrying him to rest in a matter of minutes, all the events of the past day slipping away calmly. They wouldn’t bother him until he turned to the waking world again.

The next morning he awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and the sun barely visible, but still visible enough to fill the room with a faint light. He stretched in the bed, before lying there for a few moments. His mind wandered, mostly refreshing his mind of yesterday and if there was anything he was supposed to do again. He remembered Ghostbur’s gloominess from the day before with an awkward feeling in his chest. He mumbled, “Good morning.”

A few moments passed with no response. Wilbur slightly frowned, “Ghostbur?”

“Oh! You were talking to me!” Ghostbur’s tiredness showed through his voice. It wasn't tiredness from a lack of sleep that made your voice gently crack on itself, but rather an exhaustion that couldn’t be fixed with rest. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm.” Wilbur sat up from the bed, swinging his legs over so he was sitting normally. “I don’t remember being able to sleep that well in limbo, can you?” 

He hoped it was different for the ghost. That maybe he could also have a copy of Friend there for him instead of only having a faint grip of reality through Wilbur. “Nope. What did you do for fun here?” He heard a sigh from Ghostbur.

Wilbur pursed his lips. “I mean, it wasn’t really the best place in the universe.” He heard a small hum of acknowledgment. “Sometimes I walked down the tunnel. I would go ‘til my legs were tired. Then I tried to go for longer.” The words slipped out effortlessly, yet his voice became quieter the further he got into it, “I timed myself in my head, the quickest I could collapse was… two minutes? There were some seconds added on, but I can’t remember.” 

“Yeah, maybe I’ll try that.” His voice wasn’t enthusiastic- something Wilbur was grateful for.

Wilbur shook his head, “No no no, I’m a bit of a hypocrite. You shouldn't follow in my footsteps.”

“Don’t worry, maybe I’ll run the way you didn’t go! Wait- why shouldn’t I run where you did?”

Wilbur sighed, “I didn’t mean that. I just meant you shouldn’t do what I did. I’m just…” Wilbur wanted to say he wasn’t a good role model because while it certainly was the honest truth, he didn’t care for the truth all that much. Information gives you the upper hand. “It was just a dumb decision and I don’t want to waste your time.”

Ghostbur’s voice was clearly dismayed, “There’s nothing much else to do. I mean- sometimes I can imagine stuff in my head! Like when I would play with Michael!” His excitement picked up at the end, but it wasn’t at the same level it used to be.

Wilbur tried smiling, “Yeah. That’s good. You should continue doing that.”

“I try to, but then it makes me sad. The feeling doesn’t go away anymore.”

Wilbur would’ve stood up from the bed and walked downstairs, but he didn’t want to end the conversation. “Doesn’t go away anymore?”

Ghostbur sighed, “Yeah. When I was alive, I would talk to people. Then- I think something bad would happen. At least that’s what other people said. After it was over, I would be talking with friends again! It was nice because I felt better a lot sooner than other people would.” Ghostbur paused for a moment. “I’ve heard that people get sad for multiple days, and I’m glad that never really happened to me. I wish it didn’t happen in general though. They deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah… being sad isn’t that fun.” Wilbur felt oddly empty at the words, the simplification of them making him remember the past. The days he went without sleep, trying to figure out how to win the election. The look of concern he got when Tommy told him that he should rest. Yet, he supposed those days weren’t exactly sad. They weren’t cheery, but they weren’t sad either. They held an odd sort of void to him, blending together before he even knew they started. 

He’d known about it, partially. About how Ghostbur was shaped by the good and didn’t remember any of the bad things Wilbur had experienced, nor the bad memories he had on his own. Yet it was quite another to hear him say it. To hear him speak of it as if it was something natural. Feeling better faster than others, because the memories slipped away. Wilbur hadn’t realized that wouldn’t be the case anymore. Perhaps forgetting was more merciful.

Wilbur stood up from the bed, “I’m gonna go eat some breakfast.”

Ghostbur seemed excited once more as he clapped. “I love breakfast so much! It’s one of my favorite meals.”

Wilbur nodded as he let out a sound of amusement, “Good choice.”

He walked to the door of the room, opening it slowly, afraid of disturbing any peace inside the house. He peeked his head out and looked both ways, yet he couldn’t see anyone awake. He exited the room, closing the door behind him. He carefully made his way downstairs.

When Wilbur entered the barely set-up dining room, it was as if the entire place hadn’t quite woken up yet. Tubbo was languidly standing on one side of the room, half doing the dishes, and half making breakfast. On the floor on the other side, by an open box of whatever furniture or household items it contained, Ranboo was sitting up against the wall, flipping through a book. Michael was sitting right next to him, once again leaning over a piece of paper, happily doodling on it with crayons.

He walked to where Tubbo was, making his footsteps loud enough to be heard, but not enough to startle him. Tubbo turned around, a welcoming smile on his face, “Good morning.” 

Ghostbur cheerily replied, “Good morning!”

Wilbur stood next to the boy, looking over his shoulder, “Whatcha making?”

Tubbo shrugged. “I’m just cutting up some apples right now. Makin’ pancakes. American ones specifically, because Ranboo says English ones are just sad crepes.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. He was surprised the centrist even had an opinion on food. He seemed to stay neutral on so many other regards, yet pancakes were where he drew the line, “What a weird guy. What should I start doing?”

Tubbo furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before speaking, “You’re a guest, you aren’t going to be the one cooking.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes as his tone returned gentle, “Like old times.”. He spent so many days making breakfast in L’Manberg that he hadn’t even thought that things were different. Most of those early moments were spent with Tubbo before he went undercover as a spy. They both couldn’t stay asleep or didn’t sleep soon enough and decided to just start the day. They formed the routine of the person in the kitchen, decided what they were making, and the other helped until it was finished.

Tubbo looked away, his posture more rigid. Wilbur pursed his lips, he ruined another moment. Another peaceful moment was torn out of Tubbo’s head by the hands of a person he only invited to his home out of pity. He forced words to roll off his tongue, ones that didn’t belong but had to be placed there, “Just joking, man.”

Tubbo hesitantly laughed, “Yeah,” He returned his gaze to the fruit in front of him. Wilbur slightly narrowed his eyes, not out of anger, but the confusion that persisted ever since his return. Everyone asserted that everything was different, but it all lingered in his head all the same. He could picture L’Manberg in its glory along with the uniforms that fit his soldiers perfectly. Yet no one else could. 

“Michael, no!” a voice from the other side of the room suddenly exclaimed, Wilbur immediately turned his head. He was met by the sight of Ranboo, worriedly trying to pull a piece of paper out of Michael’s mouth. Only a small part of it was stuck in there as if Michael had merely tried to lick it and had decided to chew on it afterward. “Let go, it’s not food.” Ranboo tried. With a sharp pull, Ranboo landed on his back with the paper in hand, and Michael looked disappointed.

Tubbo’s squinted, looking confused and concerned at the same time. “Didn’t we take away the yellow crayons?”

Ranboo sighed deeply, “Orange.”

“Michael doesn’t eat orange though?” Tubbo said.

Ranboo sat up and looked at Tubbo with a completely deadpan expression. “You haven’t considered the implications of light orange.”

Tubbo gasped with realization. “Oh,” he rushed towards the packet of crayons, picking out the orange ones hurriedly. Ranboo discarded the paper, and Michael watched with crossed arms, looking a bit annoyed at the whole ordeal. Wilbur couldn’t contain some light laughter as the scene unfolded.

Not too long after, breakfast was served. It was a lot less strained than Wilbur had perhaps feared. They chatted about Michael’s strange habits of eating crayons along with similar childhood stories. Light-hearted chuckles passed around the table, with Michael joining in occasionally. Even when they all finished their plates, they continued to sit. They only started moving when Michael seemed fussy with his high chair. Tubbo quickly took him out, setting him on the floor again. 

Tubbo picked up the dishes from the table. “I’ll clean these up. You and Michael can play for a bit.” Wilbur nodded and got up from his seat at the same time as Ranboo. Wilbur felt a pulling sensation on his pant leg, he goofily smiled when he looked down and realized it was Michael. 

Ranboo took the plates from Tubbo’s hands. “You cooked breakfast, it’s only fair that I wash the dishes.”

Tubbo gently pulled on them back. “And you played with Michael all morning.”

Ranboo rolled his eyes as he set the plates onto the kitchen counter. “Oh my, it’s so hard to be a Dad. Wow, it’s so difficult to just watch a child when the child is still waking up.”

Tubbo groaned, “I can’t believe you.”

Ranboo nodded. “I make such good points that you can’t even try.” While he seemed disinterested in the beginning, a small smile appeared on his face.

Tubbo sighed, “Yeah. I really can’t compete with the world’s best dad and husband. If only I could wash the dishes to pay him back.”

“Awww, I think they’re flirting again,” Ghostbur cooed. 

Ranboo let out a laugh, “Sure sure, maybe tomorrow.” He quickly leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Tubbo’s forehead. 

Tubbo scoffed, “Bitch.” He playfully punched Ranboo’s shoulder before heading off in Wilbur's direction. Wilbur even forgot he was there, wrapped inside the domestic peace of their family. He blinked and looked down at Michael, the child still pulling gently on Wilbur’s pant leg. 

“We’ll be in Michael’s room,” Tubbo called out to Ranboo. Ranboo nodded and continued putting the dishes in the sink. Tubbo started walking up the stairs and Michael quickly followed. Wilbur was walking a bit slower than before. Cautiously perhaps, though he wasn’t certain why. He smiled at Michael.

“Ooh, what are we going to play with Michael?” Ghostbur asked, though it was said in such a way, that he likely didn’t expect a response. Wilbur let out a relieved breath, at least a little comforted by the fact that Ghostbur had been talking this morning. It was going to be alright. Wilbur held on to the faint thread of a connection for now, each word from the ghost feeling like his one chance to take a breath. 

As they returned to Michael’s barely furnished room, Wilbur almost felt as if he’d settled into a routine. It was silly really, having been there for just one night, but the walls seemed familiar. Familiar in a way that was a lot less suffocating than most familiar walls Wilbur could think of. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to settle into that feeling. It wasn’t there to stay, but he could pretend it was for the time being. Though the warmth almost seemed to burn him.

Soon enough, he found himself sitting on the floor, playing with little toys shaped like various animals and other mobs. While Wilbur found it difficult to figure out exactly what they were playing, he released a scream from a toy he’d dubbed the Skeleton King, as Michael played the chicken protagonist, defeating the king for the last time. Ghostbur chimed in every once in a while, despite him knowing even less of what was going on. Ghostbur suggested that the chicken hero had a friend who was a ghost cow, and Wilbur had decided to incorporate it into the story. Partially just to please Ghostbur, though the smile on Michael’s face was priceless.

He looked over in Tubbo’s direction. The boy was feeling the walls when Wilbur realized they had a bit of crayon on them. Not much, but enough to notice if you looked close enough. He gasped quietly at the thought in his mind. He reached in his pocket, feeling the sugar cane in his hand. A small grin slipped onto his face as he discreetly crushed it up, forming a small pile of sugar in his hand. 

He shuffled slightly towards the edge of the table, gesturing for Michael to come along. The toddler tilted his head but walked over to where Wilbur was. Wilbur barely resisted laughing as he put the sugar on the table in a thin line. It wasn’t the neatest one in the world, but it would have to do. 

Wilbur spoke loud enough for Tubbo to hear, “Alright, first you get it in a line. It can be a bit hard to do sometimes, but you can always use the edge of a sword or a piece of paper if you’re really desperate.” Tubbo raised an eyebrow as his eyes widened at the scene. He immediately ran over, picking Michael up as he quickly placed the child farther away from Wilbur. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t understand the situation as he attempted to run back to Wilbur. 

Tubbo grabbed onto Michael’s shoulders before he could go far, turning the zombie piglin around to see him. His voice was tense, but still light enough. “Michael, how about you play tag with Dad for a bit, okay?” 

“Tubbo doesn’t sound okay,” Ghostbur supplemented. Although Wilbur could’ve been able to read the room himself, the ghost’s voice was always a nice echo in his mind.

Michael huffed, looking between Tubbo and Wilbur. Tubbo nodded, showing him the direction of the door. He even slipped a smile into his voice, although the one on his face seemed tense, “You can go down the stairs by yourself.”

Michael squealed excitedly as he ran out of the room, his footsteps heard as he excitedly ran down. Tubbo closed the door behind him as his eyes met Wilbur’s. A foolish grin sat on Wilbur’s face, “Your reaction was priceless!” He cackled as he casually pushed around the sugar on the table.

Tubbo sharply exhaled, “Wilbur.” His voice was sharp and jagged in a way Wilbur didn’t quite expect.

“It’s just some sugar in a line. C’mon, man, you can taste it yourself.” He picked a bit of sugar from off the table and put it in his mouth, making slightly exaggerated expressions as he emphasized that it wasn’t anything bad.

Some of Tubbo’s edge disappeared, but at least half of it remained, “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t hurt Michael it’s just-” He cut himself off with a sigh. He looked away from Wilbur’s gaze and back at the wall with some crayon on it. “L’Manberg.”

Wilbur furrowed his brow, “What about it?”

They waited a few moments in silence before Tubbo hesitantly spoke, “Why did you start L’Manberg?”

Wilbur stated his answer automatically, “To declare independence from Dream. You were there, Tubbo.”

Tubbo shook his head, “No no, what was the original purpose of L’Manberg?”

Wilbur thought for a moment. Tommy’s disks flew into his mind, but L’Manberg was never really centered on them, only Tommy and Dream did. He drifted onto the idea of community, but that was found after the nation was formed. Power maybe? Power seemed like a nice answer, but it somehow didn’t feel right on his tongue. He snapped his fingers as a look of realization came across his face, “Oh! We were gonna set up a drug empir- oh.”

History really does repeat itself in an ironic way.

Tubbo pursed his lips as he couldn’t meet Wilbur’s gaze, “Yeah.”

“Tubbo…” Wilbur’s voice trailed off before he continued again, “I mean, L’Manberg is over and done with. It’s not too big of a problem.” Wilbur scooped up the remaining sugar on the table and dumped it into his mouth.

Ghostbur seemed flabbergasted, “What are you eating? It seems… good? Is that the right word?” Wilbur nodded but Ghostbur couldn’t see.

Wilbur moved his gloves against each other, removing the rest of the remaining substance from himself. “Sugar never really loses its touch.” He stood up from the table. He slightly frowned when he spotted the cloudy look in Tubbo’s eyes. “You… okay?”

Tubbo met Wilbur’s gaze for a moment before looking towards the door. “I know it was yesterday when you read the destruction of L’Manberg, really, it’s a new day. But-” Tubbo shakily exhaled, “Just because you got to destroy all of your hard work, doesn’t mean you’ll get to destroy mine too.”

Wilbur sympathetically looked at the boy as he walked closer. Tubbo tensed up noticeably. Wilbur stopped a few steps in front of Tubbo. “Tubbo.” A gentle assertiveness filled his voice, “Tubbo look at me.” Tubbo narrowed his eyes for a moment but met Wilbur’s gaze. Tears laced the boy’s eyes, the shine of them giving it away.

Wilbur took a breath, “Dream is in prison. L’Manberg is… gone.” The word felt bitter on his tongue. “I don’t have anything against you. I- I care about you being happy. I wouldn’t do anything to purposely ruin it.” Wilbur opened his arms for a hug.

Tubbo stepped forward as Wilbur’s chest lept and a small grin went across his face, but Tubbo side-stepped at the last moment, opening the door just a bit behind Wilbur. Before the door closed, Tubbo mentioned a whisper into the air, “It’s okay.” The words seemed to waver slightly as if they were meant to comfort himself and not Wilbur. The door clicked and he was alone once more.

[roseworth]

Partners in Crime

word count: 2638

characters: Eugene & Lance

description: Arnie had a goal to get through to Eugene, no matter how much he tried to push him away. How hard could it be, right?

note: for lance strongbow appreciation week :) @tangledbea

AO3

Arnie made it his goal to get through to Eugene.

Ever since Arnie arrived at the orphanage, Eugene seemed even more distant than the other kids. He figured it was just because they were both around the same age, so Eugene saw him as some kind of competition. Still, he was determined to make friends with him.

Arnie’s family was… no longer in the picture, but he figured he could make a new family in the orphanage, starting with Eugene. However, the contempt the boy seemed to have for him was proving to be an impassable obstacle.

“Eugene!” Arnie waved from across the room as he walked in. Eugene’s face remained stoic as he looked up, but that didn’t make Arnie falter. “Hey, buddy, how’s it going?”

“Splendid,” he deadpanned. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to see if someone wanted to go visit the creek and check out the lizards,” he grinned, nudging Eugene’s arm.

“Go ask Lacey, she likes reptiles.”

Arnie frowned and looked over at the person Eugene suggested. She was about 2, and was currently trying to see if she could stick her toe up her nose. Not exactly who he wanted to spend time with.

“Actually, I meant maybe the two of us could!”

“No.”

“Oh. Okay. Maybe another time?”

“Maybe you can stop bothering me.”

Arnie deflated as the other boy walked away. That didn’t go the way he had hoped it would. Maybe Eugene needed more time to grow used to him. Arnie had only been at the orphanage for a few weeks, after all. Eugene would warm up to him eventually.

He decided he would give Eugene space for a while, then try again another day.

He couldn’t wait long. Arnie was walking up to Eugene 2 days later, hoping for more luck this time. It was looking like that wasn’t going to be the case when he saw Eugene roll his eyes as he approached. “What?”

“Hey Eugene, do you want to go-”

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish!”

Eugene crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” he spat. “I don’t want to be your friend, so stop trying.”

That made Arnie even more frustrated than before. Why was he being so stubborn? Why was he refusing to even consider becoming friends? He didn’t even give him a chance! “But why? What did I do wrong?” he all but screamed.

Eugene hesitated, a look of surprise and sadness flickering across his face before returning back to his usual scowl. “I don’t need to explain myself to you,” he mumbled, storming out. Arnie wanted to follow him, but figured that that wouldn’t be much help. He watched as the other boy strode away, leaving any chance they could have had at a friendship behind him.

Arnie might have to give up. He would have to look for a different friend in the orphanage, or just wait until he was adopted to have another family. As much as he wanted to be friends with Eugene, he couldn’t seem to get through to him no matter what. Any attempt at a conversation was immediately shut down, much to his frustration. He couldn’t even get close enough to find out why Eugene refused to talk to him.

He couldn’t sleep that night. Usually, he was out like a light as soon as he got into bed, but tonight he stared at the ceiling above him, lost in thought.

If he couldn’t befriend Eugene, he would have to stay alone for even longer. The other kids seemed to not want to talk to him as well and he couldn’t figure out why. All he wanted was to get along with them and to build some kind of friendship with the others, but it seemed like his luck was against him. Not that luck had really been on his side at all recently.

He wanted to move on with his life, but he could only remember his old family. The family that wasn’t there anymore. On nights when he couldn’t fall asleep, his mom used to read him stories until he finally felt sleepy. His dad would join sometimes, too, and all three of them would listen to the stories of Lance Archer’s adventures as the stars glistened outside the window. They were so happy together, until…

Whatever. It was over. It was just hard to look forward to a new family when he had his old family ripped away from him so quickly. He couldn’t even see the stars clearly outside his window anymore, and his bed was stiff and cold.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard soft crying from a bed near him. It was one of the younger kids, probably around 3 years old. He felt bad for the kid, despite not knowing what he was crying about. Arnie used to have his family to comfort him when he cried, but he figured there wasn’t much comfort to be given around here.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” a soft voice whispered. “Stephen, kiddo, look at me. You’re okay.” If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that voice belonged to--

Arnie peeked up to see Eugene sitting at the kid’s bedside, putting an arm around his shaking form. The kid, apparently named Stephen, let out a small sob and curled up into Eugene’s arms. Stephen sniffled quietly as Eugene rubbed his back comfortingly, quietly reminding him to breathe.

“Hey, have I ever told you the story of the time Flynn Rider battled a ferocious dragon?” he asked softly. Stephen shook his head and looked up excitedly, his face still stained with tears.

Eugene launched into a story about when Flynnigan Rider was sailing across the sea and got suddenly attacked by a huge fire-breathing dragon. Arnie sat up in bed, quietly listening as he recounted the tale, though Eugene didn’t seem to notice that anyone else was awake.

“...As the dragon drew closer, Flynn raised his sword above his head, then swung it down to strike it one last time. The dragon let out a final roar as it fell to the ground,” he narrated. He glanced down to see that Stephen had fallen back asleep, his sobs long gone. He smiled, then stood up carefully so he wouldn’t wake the younger boy.

“What happened next?” Arnie piped up, making Eugene jump. Surprisingly, though, he didn’t throw back up the emotional walls Arnie was used to seeing. Instead, he sat next to him on the edge of the bed and crossed his legs, his lips curving into a slight smile.

“Well, Flynn found out the dragon’s cave was full of gold, and brought some of it to his island. But he realized he didn’t really want all that treasure to himself, so he brought the rest of it to the mainland to give to the people who needed it.”

Arnie grinned. “Flynn sounds awesome.”

Eugene lit up excitedly. “You should hear about his other adventures! He travels around the world, meeting so many people and going on daring quests. He has battles with all kinds of monsters, and always comes out victorious!” he rambled. Then, he shrugged and cleared his throat. “But, you know that’s kid stuff. I only read it for the little ones.”

Arnie scoffed at that. “Come on, this doesn’t seem like just kid stuff. I was enjoying the story a lot, there’s nothing wrong with liking someone as incredible as Flynn Rider.”

Eugene brightened back up and nodded, the smile on his face growing again. “You should read the Flynn Rider books, they’re all even more incredible than they sound.”

“I bet you would like Lance Archer, too. He’s a lot like Flynnigan, my mom used to read the books about him to me all the time.”

Eugene shifted uncomfortably, bringing his knees up to his chest. “What was your mom like?” he asked quietly.

“She was so cool. She would make me breakfast every day, and she would help me whenever I needed it, and- and…” Arnie tried to stop the tears from coming. He had been able to stop himself from crying since he had gotten here, but now it was all coming up at once. “She got hurt. And they couldn’t save her. Then after she was gone, my dad… didn’t want me anymore.” For the first time in weeks, he let himself openly cry around another person. As Arnie unsuccessfully tried to stop himself from crying, Eugene scooted closer to him and rested his head on the other boy’s shoulder.

“Your mom sounds nice. Not your dad, though. He sounds like he sucks.”

Arnie let out a small laugh through his tears. “He didn’t always suck. When it was him, my mom, and me, we were all happy,” he said. “What about you? What were your parents like?”

Eugene snorted, though nothing was funny. “Your guess is as good as mine. I never knew ‘em.”

“Do you know why they left you here?”

He shook his head. “That’s the way it is with most of us here. We never knew our parents, we never got an explanation as to why we weren’t wanted. So when everyone found out you knew your parents…” he trailed off, but Arnie understood. That’s why Eugene had been so cold to him. He was mad that Arnie got to know his parents, and that he had a family for the first part of his life. Eugene had been here for as long as he could remember, the orphanage was the only family he had. He must have thought it was unfair that Arnie was living a happy life before coming to the orphanage, when Eugene never had a life before the orphanage.

“I’m sorry,” Arnie whispered.

“No, I’m sorry for being mean to you over something that isn’t your fault. ...And I’m sorry to hear about your mom.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Eugene’s head still leaning on his friend’s shoulder. “Honestly, I have faith my parents are going to come back for me someday,” he said suddenly, whispering like it was a secret. “I just haven’t really made it easy to find me.”

“What do you mean?”

Eugene laughed softly. “I was originally put in an orphanage a few kingdoms over, but I kept causing trouble so they kept needing to transfer me. I don’t even know where I’m from anymore,” he joked, though his eyes looked sad.

“Hey, maybe we’ll get adopted, and you won’t even need your birth parents. You’ll have a whole new family,” Arnie suggested, full of hope. Eugene just pursed his lips and looked down at the floor.

“I’m not holding my breath. The older kids never get adopted.”

Arnie’s heart sunk. He had been pinning at least a small amount of hope on getting adopted and gaining a new family, but hearing that Eugene had pretty much given up hope almost made him want to, too. Instead, he decided he would keep a positive attitude, that way he would have enough hope for both him and Eugene. Besides, even if he didn’t end up getting adopted, he and Eugene could be a pretty good family on their own.

After that night, the two boys were inseparable. Arnie read all the Flynn Rider books, and Eugene read all the Lance Archer books. They talked about the stories, and drew pictures of the heroes’ adventures. They even imagined what it would be like to go on heroic adventures of their own, to explore the world together, side by side.

Arnie had pretty much lost his hope that they were going to get adopted, but he didn’t really care anymore. As long as he had his best friend with him, he knew the future would turn out just fine after all.

***

Those are the memories Lance likes to think about now, sitting in his cell with Mr. Kilpatrick. It’s late at night, but he can’t fall asleep. These were the kinds of nights that he and Flynn used to go on heists together, under the cover of night.

But he had heard some distressing news from a guard earlier. They said that Flynn Rider had been executed in Corona for stealing the Lost Princess’s crown. He was hanged that morning. There was nothing he could do to save him, or just see him one last time.

Lance just couldn’t believe Flynn had gotten caught, he was always so stealthy. Sure, he liked to take big risks, but Lance couldn’t believe it had come to this.

Flynn used to say that he didn’t have to outrun the guards, he just had to outsmart his partners. Apparently his partners for that job were the Stabbingtons, so it couldn’t have been that hard to outsmart them, right? What could have happened?

Lance curls up in bed, unable to stop thinking about Flynn. He’s going to be released from prison in a few months, and he was looking forward to reuniting with his best friend. They would be able to pull another job just like old times, and they would be the world’s most notorious crime duo again. Besides, he had just figured out where the Baron’s new hideout is, and nothing brought the two of them closer together than long-awaited revenge did.

Months later, he’s released from jail, ready to be a free man for the first time in a long time. He might take a break from crime. Just a short break, though. He’ll turn back to crime as soon as a worthwhile job comes around. Breaking into the Baron’s house seems like a good option, though it won’t be the same without Flynn.

He decides to first steal something from Corona, in honor of his friend. Pulling a job in the place where his friend pulled his last seemed like the right way to respect his memory. He confidently makes his way to the kingdom, planning a one-man heist so outrageous, it would make Flynn proud.

From what he had heard, a lot has changed in Corona since he was last there. Not only has the Lost Princess returned, but they’ve started reforming their prison system. Figures, they abolish the death penalty after Flynn is hanged, he thought.

In a city near the outskirts of Corona, he finds a newspaper stand where the attendant doesn’t seem to be paying much attention. He easily slips one of the newspapers away to read up on some of the changes made in the kingdom, figuring that he should probably study up on what the kingdom is like before committing a major heist.

What he sees in the paper, though, shocks him beyond belief.

Eugene Fitzherbert had saved the Lost Princess, and is now living in the castle.

Lance chuckled under his breath, feeling a huge weight lifted off his chest. This means that not only is Flynn alive, but now he must be planning some huge job from inside the castle. He has to get in on this.

Of course Flynn is alive, Lance knows there’s no way he could’ve gotten caught in the first place. He had escaped his own death sentence, and managed to con his way into the castle. A classic Flynn Rider heist, of course!

He’ll wait until tomorrow to go to Corona and surprise Flynn. It’ll be just like old times again. He’ll get Flynn in on revenge against the Baron first, then Flynn will let him in on whatever he’s planning to steal from the castle.

Lance looks towards the small bit of the kingdom he could see from where he was standing, feeling substantially better knowing that Flynn was alive and well over there. Things are going to turn out just fine after all.

[hamilsquadwritings]

The Flowers (Philip Hamilton Soulmate AU) ~ part 2 ~

A Soulmate AU in which flowers bloom from your left ring finger, coiling up and around your body, Identical to your soulmates. They stop growing when you meet and turn white when you get together

(I decided to work on an old idea I had on my old blog @stargazelaurens and develop it properly)

Words- 1.85k

Warnings- Eacker being a tool

Tag list {omg people want to be tagged?!<33}: @angelicl-y @popbubblegumpop @elizabethgrace459

{{let me know if you wanna be added!!}}

Things were going.. okay? 

It was a few weeks later and you'd gone out with George more times. You were really beginning to like him, your parents of course liked him. Your sister however.. she felt there was something off about him. She couldn't put it into words however so you pushed it aside to focus on trying to make it work. It helped you have someone to take your mind off of Philip. He'd often be at your house with your sister so it was nice to head out with George.

He'd taken you out to the gardens, for dinner, to the market, but not back to his parents home. Well until last night. He’d invited you to dinner with your parents. It had started off well. They'd be pleasant, even a little warm which made you feel happy, maybe you'd have a relationship with them. After dinner his mother suggested that he give you a tour of the estate, his family was rich so it was a lengthy tour. You were happy to learn more about it, so far it was be surface level questions you'd asked about him, and he about you.  He started the tour with the gardens, they were beautiful, his mother had a vegetable patch that she was incredible proud of, she also had a pink and red rose bush that had been in the family for over 100 years, all the family wedding bouquets were picked from that bush. Next was the library, it was incredible, far more impressive than you'd ever seen, you could spend hours just counting the books let alone reading them. Every place he showed you were prettier than the last. Until you got to his room and the small room next to it. 

____

"This will be your room once we get married, we've have a bathroom through there," he said pointing at the second door in the room "and three maids set out for you to help and assist as you need. You'll be able to roam the grounds as you please, when we don't have guests of course. And you'll come to events with me and when I have time off you'll be able to leave with me-" you had cut him off mid ramble 

"Wait- I won't be able to leave on my own?" You asked in disbelief, he couldnt serious could he?

"Well of course not, you're not some common girl-" he started

"What about seeing my friends? And my family?" Your asked quickly

"I'll be your family" he replied simply

"I'd like to go home" you replied and turn to move, he grabs your arm to stop you getting any closer to the door 

"Listen" he said, leaning really close "you don't get to decide, you're going to be MY wife which means you if don't to do as I say- STOP IT!" He yelled as you struggled against him. You continued to struggle so he let go, striking you across your cheek, you landed on the floor in shock. He looked down at you in disgust "I've been nice these last few days to settle you into our way of life since your father let's you live on such a loose lead but I won't tolerate it. If you want it the hard way we can. Get. Up."

______

That's how you ended up in the carriage. You'd been given a moment to compose yourself before returning to the dinning room for tea with your "husband" and "parents". Your new family..

After tea and biscuits George called for a carriage 

"I can get myself home.." you mumble but he follows you into the carriage anyway. 

"I'm taking you home, you shouldn't be out on your own" he says "you won't be after next month anyway.." he says

"Next month?" You ask meeting his eyes for the first time this evening "what..?"

"Our wedding of course.. the date was set last night, the 13th.." he says. The 13th? That was a little less than three weeks away! "Oh? I guess your father hadn't told you.." 

"Uh, no.." you respond quietly, you couldn't let that happen, they couldn't take you away from your sister and Theo! 

The carriage ride home was quiet. George had tried to talk to you a couple of times, quickly giving up when you wouldn't respond. He didn't mind humoring you, you'd be his in less than three weeks, then you wouldn't be able to ignore him. As soon as the carriage arrived you shot out, walking down the path, not even replying when he said goodnight. 

"Hi" a soft voice says from behind you causing you to jump "sorry!" Philip says quickly "I didn't mean to startle you! Your parents went out for the evening and (s/n) is getting ready for- what's wrong?' he asks when he sees your panic stricken face 

"Where is everyone..?" You ask your self once you get inside. You couldn't see either of your parents or your sisters. All the downstairs lights were off.

"I'm getting married.." you whisper, shaking your head quickly when he smiles "they- they won't let me see my family after the wedding.. they have a little room I have to stay in and-" 

"Oh (y/n).." Philip says softly, wrapping his arms around you quickly. You fell against him with tears in your eyes "that's really unfair.." he didn't know what to say, it was more than unfair but he didn't know how to comfort you. He hadn't had much interaction with you over the past few weeks. Sure he'd spent a lot of time at your house but he'd either been with your sister or you'd been out you with George. Angelica would tell him a lot about you, mainly how nice and lovely you were. Philip had graduated school last summer, and you'd finished just before He'd met your sister. He'd always remember the day you'd gone into the debate club, you'd destroyed Jefferson's son on your first turn, he knew you'd make a great addition to the team. He'd left the team in your capable hands last year, just as you'd left the team in the capable hands of his little brother last month after you'd graduated.

"I-I’m sorry" you said quickly pulling away from him, what were you doing hugging and crying all over your sister fiance

"It's okay I promise" he says reassuringly as he pats your back gently as your sister appears at the top of the stair case

"(Y/n)??" She asks as she descends the stairs, her worry for your clear across her features "what's happened?" She asks as she pulls you close, her arms wrapping around your protectively. Philip sits with you and your sister as you explain everything that had happened that evening. 

By the time you'd finished your sister was shaking with rage, Philip had had to get her a glass of water and physically hold her back from standing up. He knew if she got to the door she would've marched over, well called a carriage, to the Eacker’s estate to give him and his parents a piece of her mind. NO ONE treated her little sister badly, not a single person.

"There's got to be something we can do.." Philip says softly as the room goes quiet in thought

"You're not marrying him" your sister declared after a few seconds, over her dead body would she let her baby sister be mistreated. How dare that- she was pulled from her thoughts by your voice

"I don't have a choice Daddy-" you start

"No, if I have to marry for his business and power you should have too" she says cutting you off, she gives Philip a sympathetic smile but he nods and smiles gently. He already knew, he'd met Theo a few days after their first date. He'd been with (S/N) when Theo had spotted her in the market and came running over to say hi. He'd made that connection pretty quickly.. it was a shame because he was really beginning to like (S/N), it was okay though, maybe if she was off with Theo it would give him a chance to look for his soulmate.. they had to be out there right? Little did he know she was sat across from him

"(S/N) there's nothing you can do.. he's already decided and they've set a wedding date.." you sigh softly, your eyes filling with more tears as your sister hugs you quickly to comfort you

"What if..." Philip says softly as he looks at the wall, he turns to your both, a small glint in his eye, could he have the answer? "I convinced my dad to call off our engagement unless your parents call off the Eackers?" 

"They.. they might go for that.." your sister says as she thinks it over 

"Y-youd do that for me?" You asks Philip quickly, you were in shock. You'd been actively avoiding Philip and he was willing to do this for you?!

"Of course" he says quickly, a little too quickly, he blushes lightly hoping neither you nor your sister would notice. Your eyes fill with more tears as you hug him, your emotions over powering you. How was it that your sister was going to marry such an amazing guy she didn't even want and you were stuck with Eacker. Well maybe not, hopefully you wouldn't be stuck with Eacker but it still pained you that Philip was promised to your sister, especially when she already had Theo..

"That's a really good idea.." your sister smiles as she hugs Philip 

You spent the rest of the evening in your room with Philip and your sister, working together to come up with a plan. Philip would explain the situation first to his mother, putting great emphasis on how worried he was for your safety. She would be appalled at George's actions and would immediately tell Slexander, he wasn't sure how his father would react. Either he'd pull the engagement because if this got out it would be bad for your father which would be bad for him, or he would cut contact for moral reasons. Anyone who could allow their child to be imprisoned like that was NOT someone he wanted his family to be associated with. 

Meanwhile your sister would talk to your parents, explaining the situation from a protective older sisters view. She would explain how she'd found you crying and had finally managed to coax out the story of the evenings events. She would demand that they cut the engagement or she'd refuse to marry Philip. If he didn't want to cut off the Eackers’ then she'd give Philip the okay to talk to his mum and set the second plan in motion. 

"You really think it'll work..?" You ask nervously wiping the tears. A small smile breaks out when they nods reassuringly. 

You only hoped that it would work, the thought of marrying a man who would lock his wife away I a room made you sick to your stomach..