#he is quite literally the only one who can keep up with the kids

[nyx-lyris]

my encanto analysis/headcanon that no one asked for

so, i was just looking through some encanto fanart and headcanons and came across this piece (artist: https://mobile.twitter.com/ye_enc): 

abuela had triplets - julieta, pepa, and bruno. both julieta and pepa had three kids - isabella, luisa, and mirabel for julieta, and dolores, camilo, and antonio for pepa. 

what i noticed is that for each batch of three, each individual falls under a certain category, and it seems to follow by age. 

julieta was, as this lovely fanart shows, likely depended on quite frequently for her ability to heal via her cooking. her gift would have been the most useful and therefore she likely would have been praised the most as “the perfect one”. 

this, of course, next falls to isabella, who we see this with the most frequently. abuela very clearly is living the life she wished she could have lived through isabella, and is viewed as the perfect golden child by everyone around her. 

dolores is a little different, but i believe she still fits the trope. she is basically the physical embodiment of “seen but not heard.” she keeps quiet on the things she knows would upset her family and doesn’t make herself heard, even when she is in pain, whether physical or emotional. she doesn’t tell anyone that she knows bruno has been living in the walls for the ten years he’s been missing; she doesn’t tell anyone about her feelings for mariano, because she knows that will upset abuela and her cousin’s “perfect for the encanto” arrangement; and one can only imagine how loud certain things are to her, that are endurable for us (fireworks, for example). 

next are the middle children: pepa, luisa, and camilo. all of them have some kind of pressure on their shoulders. (and - just a fun thing i noticed - while luisa’s literal pressure is the many things she carries, pepa’s pressure is atmospheric pressure, because she controls the weather. but anyway, lol). 

all three of these characters are told in one way or another to bottle up their emotions and keep them buried inside. with pepa, we see this very directly as she is constantly told by the other characters (especially abuela) to, as the fanart above shows, calm down and essentially turn off her emotions because of the damage she can cause with her weather powers. this kind of reminds me of the “conceal, don’t feel” thing that elsa had with her gloves. both pepa and elsa demonstrate the same growth throughout their movies, too - learning to accept themselves and their abilities and thus being able to control them instead of being controlled by them - but, i digress. 

luisa, by contrast, is indirectly told to keep her emotions at bay. she is treated as something of a useful tool, both by the town and by abuela, and seen in a very masculine light despite her relatively feminine personality. because of this treatment and the expectation that she will always be strong that comes with it, she falls into the same category as pepa. 

camilo, like dolores, is a little different, but still fits. we don’t see much of him in the movie, but i imagine he is depended on as being the funny one. if anyone reading this is into k-pop or bts, think of camilo as like the j-hope or the jin of the group. he’s always expected to be funny and smiling, lifting everyone else’s spirits - but who lifts his spirits? 

and lastly, we have the youngest siblings - bruno, mirabel, and antonio. they fit into the roll, of course, of the scapegoat, of family disappointments. 

bruno was rejected by the town and by his family, seen as a harbinger of chaos and horror, a bad omen - all because he can see the future, something that he obviously cannot control. but, of course, it’s easier to simply blame someone else than accept the truth or take responsibility for your own actions. 

mirabel, of course, is treated in much the same way. she is seen as a bad omen, as well, and is quite literally feared to be the one who will destroy the family and the encanto, because of bruno’s vision. 

antonio does not quite fit into this category, but i think if he had not gotten a gift, he would have been shunned in much the same way as bruno or mirabel. it can also be argued that his gift isn’t really very useful, and we can see abuela struggle for a moment to think of how they could put his gift to use at the breakfast at the beginning of the movie (”i told them to warm up your seat”). 

anyway - this is all to say that each of the siblings in each of the batches of three appears to fill (or almost fill) the same rolls. i’m sure someone else has already noticed this and i’m just late to the party - but i thought it was cool. 

[omgrachwrites]

The Night We Met (Chapter One)

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Potter!Reader

Summary: Over the summer you connected with the boy who is quite literally your twin's mortal enemy. Things start to fall apart in the darkness of the autumn.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, angst, everyone lives au, takes place in 6th year

A/N: Soooooooo, I'm back!! I'm so sorry for being away so long guys! This is the shortest chapter ever so I'm v sorry, I also didn't really know how to write Mattheo 100% as he is complete fanfiction! I hope you guys enjoy anyway and please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

Chapter One

Harry Potter was worried about his twin, she’d been so secretive recently, ever since the first week of summer. Harry knew they weren’t kids anymore but Y/N was his best friend and they used to tell each other everything. James and Sirius knew that something was up when Harry mooched into the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” his godfather laughed as he drank his tea.

“Where’s, Y/N?” he directed the question at his dad, ignoring Sirius. James shrugged as he leaned back in the kitchen chair.

“She’s off playing Quidditch in the woods, you know how she gets when she wants to be alone.”

Harry nodded, he did know but he was still a bit miffed that she hadn’t asked him for a match, “she’s supposed to come with me to Ron’s for tea,” he muttered.

At that moment, Lily walked into the kitchen and kissed her son on the cheek, “well, she’ll be back by that time.”

Harry nodded, forcing a smile for his mum’s benefit, but he just knew that something was going on with her. And, he was worried about her.

You cursed beneath your breath as you all but ran home, you had nearly lost track of time, you had nearly forgotten that you were having tea at the Weasley’s tonight. As you walked through the front door Harry was coming down the stairs.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled and you felt your guilt begin to brew in your stomach, “have fun playing Quidditch?” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You could tell he was hurt but he’d never admit it, he’d never understand either and you hated doing this to him, “well, I would have asked you to join me but I know how busy you must be pining over Ginny Weasley.”

Harry scoffed as he pushed his glasses up his nose, “you’re my sister, and my best friend, I’m never too busy for you.”

You smiled, “thanks, Harry. I’m just gonna get ready and then we can go to Ron’s,” you traipsed upstairs without waiting for a reply. On the way to your room, you passed your dad, “why did you tell Harry that I was playing Quidditch?” you sighed.

James frowned, “what in Merlin’s name was I supposed to say, Y/N?” he continued when you shrugged, “you are your brother’s best friend and I know he’s yours but you need to tell him before he finds out for himself. Now, I don’t approve but you’re not a little kid anymore.”

“See you later, dad,” you sighed as you walked into your room to get ready.

As you and Harry were leaving the cottage and were walking up the path, Harry groaned out in dismay.

“What’s the matter?” you laughed but Harry didn’t reply or look at you, he kept staring ahead with a scowl on his face.

You followed your brother’s gaze and saw that Malfoy was passing by with his friend Mattheo Riddle, as soon as Malfoy saw Harry, his face lit up with malice, “alright, Scarhead?”

You glared over at Malfoy before glancing at Riddle who was smirking at you, you scowled at him, keeping your eyes on him long enough to see him raise his eyebrow, a smug look forming on his face. “C’mon, Harry just ignore them,” you glared at the Slytherin boys as you pulled Harry away, Riddles smug face in the back of your mind.

Dinner at the Weasley’s was always something to look forward to, Mrs Weasley’s cooking was amazing and you always had a laugh with the big family. However, this year it was different, it was almost awkward, you had to watch your brother try – and fail – to flirt with Ginny. Ron and Hermione were also starting to fall for each other, though they were the only ones who couldn’t see it. You had managed to keep your embarrassment in check until it was time to sit down for dinner.

“So, Y’N, dear,” Molly started, “are you in love yet?”

Ron snorted into his food as your eyes widened and you felt a flush creep up your neck, you shook your head as you looked up at Molly, “no, I’m not.”

“I think Y/N is trying to get onto the national Quidditch team with how much she’s been playing it this summer,” you forced a smile at your brother but said nothing more, and your love life wasn’t brought up again.

After dinner, you decided to leave early and without Harry, usually you and Harry would stay for as long as you could but the guilt in your stomach hadn’t settled yet. It made it virtually impossible for you to be around your friends when you felt like that. It was when you were getting ready for bed that the knock on your patio door came and startled you.

You sighed when you saw the handsome Slytherin boy standing out on your balcony, you padded over and opened the patio door, quickly ushering him inside.

“Mattheo,” you hissed, “what are you doing here?”

He smiled and cupped your cheek with a warm hand, “I wanted to see you before I head back home, I feel like I haven’t seen you as much recently.”

You scoffed and looked away from him, crossing your arms over your chest, “you literally saw me today.”

“For like an hour,” Mattheo sighed and kissed you softly. Your fingers delved into his thick curls as you briefly kissed him back before you pushed him away, “what’s the matter?” he asked, resting his forehead against yours.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, you couldn’t see how this relationship – if that was even what it was – would work at Hogwarts, it was too much sneaking around and you had to keep a lot more secrets at school than you did at home. Also, you didn’t have the heart to tell him your relationship had an expiry date. It really seemed like you were lying to everyone.

“Y/N,” Mattheo started, biting his lip, in that moment he looked so vulnerable as he stared at you with wide eyes, and you almost forgot who he was. Almost. “Can I stay here tonight? I don’t want to go back to Draco’s, you know he’ll be there.”

“Mattheo,” you sighed but he interrupted you before you could say anything further.

“Please, Y/N? I promise I’ll be gone before your parents wake up.”

You cupped his cheeks and fought back tears, “you have to go, everyone is in danger if you’re here.”

Mattheo looked like he’d been gut punched and he pulled away from you so quickly it was like you’d burned him, “right,” he hissed with a nod, “the scum can’t put the perfect Potter’s in danger.”

“I never said that!”

Mattheo sniffed as he wrenched open your patio door, “you didn’t have to. Goodnight, Y/N,” he climbed down your balcony and disappeared into the night.

“Goodbye, Mattheo,” you sighed as you watched him go.

The next morning was an early start and you almost immediately regretted promising that you would meet Ron and Hermione for an early lunch. You could barely keep your eyes open as you shuffled into the kitchen. You had been awake for most of the night half wishing that you had let Mattheo stay. You yawned as you spread butter onto your toast.

“You’re quiet this morning, Y/N,” James glanced at you from the other end of the table.

Harry snickered as he walked into the kitchen, “you say that like it’s a bad thing, dad.”

You scowled at your twin, “fuck you, Potter.”

“Language, Y/N!” Lily gasped but you couldn’t miss the laughter in her voice. Your mum narrowed her green eyes at you, “did you have a friend over last night? I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone.”

You shook your head, refusing to look at your dad, though you could feel him looking at you from where he sat, “I didn’t have anyone over last night, mum,” you mumbled. Lily nodded but continued to regard you suspiciously.

In no time at all, you were meeting Ron and Hermione outside of the ice cream parlour in the blazing sun.

“Hello again,” Hermione laughed as she pulled you into a hug, you grinned as you hugged her back and over her shoulder you waved at Ron.

“Sorry about my mum last night, that must have been embarrassing,” Ron almost winced as you laughed and shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it!” you sat at the table and smiled over at Hermione, “thanks for getting my fave,” you blew her a kiss as you a sip from your iced Butterbeer.

“Ugh, incoming,” Hermione rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her own drink, you could tell by the venom in her voice that it was Malfoy and his band of Slytherins. You didn’t even turn to look until Ron spoke up.

“Bloody hell, look at Riddle’s face.”

You glanced over your shoulder and was filled with horror by what you saw, Mattheo had been badly beaten, he had a black eye and a huge gash in his lip, almost like it had been split open. He looked at you with wounded eyes as he walked past but he said nothing. Neither did Malfoy.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

So we all agree Eddie was a theater kid right? So what if Steve saw him as the phantom in Hawkins’ production of Phantom of the Opera? Ignoring that Phantom first premiered in October 1986 in London and the licensing rights to the play didn’t become available until like the 2010s OR this is modern AU

Like, Steve was dating a girl (maybe the one just before Nancy?? idk) and she was in the play as Meg and he went to see her but instead was completely blown away by tall dark and handsome playing the phantom. (the sex appeal, the dramatics, the voice).

He can’t even tell his gf how well she did because it’d just be a lie anyway, it’s like his brain was only aware of the stage in front of him when the Phantom (Eddie) was on stage.

He goes to see another showing on his own the next day and is so smitten with Eddie that he sneaks backstage and leaves a rose with a black ribbon for Eddie “To the phantom, from your secret admirer”.

Steve never forgot about his crush on Eddie “the Freak” Munson, realizes he’s bi by time Vecna happens and after everyone lives, nobody dies dammit, finds out Eddie never forgot about his secret admirer and has always wanted figure out who it was.

Robin and Eddie are talking about it when Steve comes in for work one day, “Yeah, it would be even more of a romantic story if I found out who it was. But it’s still romantic as it is, isn’t it?”

“Sure, especially since you’re so adamant about it having been a guy that left it for you.”

“Ah, we’re doing guy talk? Munson has a new crush or what?” Steve says as he slips the green vest over his shoulders.

Eddie had come out to them after waking up in the hospital; Robin and Steve having been together with him on a night shift of “Eddie Watch”. Of all people to accidentally come out to while still on the hospitals high-grade painkillers, Eddie feels lucky it happened to be to (maybe) the only other queer kids in Hawkins.

“No lady has that horrible of handwriting, Buckley, it has to be a guy. But WHO??” Eddie yells to the ceiling as he throws up his arms in frustration.

“Who are you talking about? How can you have a crush on someone and you know literally nothing about them?”

Eddie grinned at Steve, launching into his story as Robin rolls her eyes and heads out from behind the counter to put back the returns (“It’s quite the tale Steve, I’ve heard it so many times I could probably tell it just as good as Eddie can.” she says before Steve can ask where’s she’s going).

Eddie tells Steve the whole story, how he got the lead in the high school’s production of Phantom, working so hard to get the songs down, how nervous he was the first show, and then the kicker (his words): he gained a secret admirer from how great his performance was.

The whole time he’s telling steve this story, Steve manages to keep his face from changing from (what Steve has found to be) his constant state of fondness for the metal head, to one of horror as he realizes Eddie is talking about him. This whole time Eddie hasn’t forgotten what he did. And yeah, if Steve’s honest with himself, his crush on Eddie never fully died out; he shoved down as far as he could, the only evidence of it remaining through the rest of his time in school was no one ever remembering King Steve Harrington ever actually doing shit to the school’s resident freak. No teasing, no shoves into lockers while walking past, nothing.

He had almost completely extinguished it, until one fateful encounter in Reefer Rick’s boathouse.

“Wow, Eds, that is a pretty great story” Steve admits, “Do you have any ideas who it could be?”

“Loads! Tommy H. for starters-don’t give me that look Steve, you know he wants all this.” Eddie chides, gesturing to himself. “Maybe it was the stage manager, Carl? No, I’ve seen his handwriting plenty…” he tails off and thinks to himself for a bit before looking back up at Steve “Either way, I know he’s out there” Eddie rubs the back of his head shyly, “and even if he isn’t crushing on me anymore, I’d still love to find out who it was at some point you know?”

Steve smiles softly at the older man, “Yeah, that makes sense. Well, good luck Munson, I hope you find him.”

“Thanks Steve.” comes a voice as quiet as Steve’s ever heard from Eddie. They look at each other for a moment before Eddie glances at the clock behind Steve’s head. “Oh shoot! I’m late to meet Wayne!” He cups his hands around his mouth to shout “BYE ROBIN!” across the empty store, then turning to the door with a “Bye Stevie!” and he’s gone.

Steve feels every muscle in his body relax, falling hard onto the counter in front of him as his face falls and his hands come up to catch it.

Robin’s done with the returns by now and sees Steve’s dramatics, “Whoa, don’t hurt yourself there, Dingus..what’s wrong?” her voice changing to concern as she rounds the counter to him.

“Robin, I’m Eddie’s secret admirer.”

Pt. 2 will be here once I write it

Now on AO3! Several Notes of the Most Amiable Nature

[satuguro]

✧*ೃ࿐ TONGUES & TEETH

[ ACT IV: THE VALKYRIE'S FALL]

xavier thorpe x valkyrie! reader

#SYNOPSIS— you really shouldn't work at a coffee shop, enid forces you on a shopping spree, and xavier finally snaps.

#CONTAINS— enemies to fwb (kind of) to lovers, slowburn, academic rivals, intimidating and flawed reader, familial issues (will be mentioned in this part), gore, blood, death, aged up characters (everyone is 18 except for eugene), sexual content (in some other parts)

#AUTHORSNOTE— it's official— this series is gonna be a slowburn. thank you for the continuous support !

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, ACT VI

you learned quite quickly that maybe you weren't as good as talking to people as you thought.

you weren't particularly social; your sisters taught you to keep to yourself. as a kid, you often played alone. any friends you made in your multiple foster homes were oftentimes temporary. you always ended up running away in the end, and you were always found at the same location.

1297 brook street.

you were always out on the porch of the old house, slamming your fists into the door as you screamed for the owner of the house to open it. you screamed at them to look at you, to face what she feared most, and you were always, always pulled away from that damned house and put in another foster home. the cycle continued for years.

so no, you weren't the best with speaking to others. not without the occasional snarky comment. but as you worked at the weathervane, reluctantly walking up to a group of normie boys, you found yourself trying to be civil. not only to xavier (who you had been ignoring since you both started), but to the customers.

emphasis on trying.

"what can i get you?" you asked the group with a forced smile, clicking your pen against your notepad.

"i'll get a latte," one of the boys chirped, and you nodded as you wrote it down, listening to the rest of their orders.

"that kid's from nevermore, right?" one of the boys asked, nodding over to xavier. you followed his nod to where xavier stood, giving a few girls their orders. he was talking to them casually, a small smile gracing his face after one of the girls complimented him.

"what's it to you?" you asked, turning your attention back to the needy highschooler. you were only a little bit surprised that they could easily tell who was an outcast and who wasn't, but you assumed it was because xavier had gone to nevermore much longer than you had. this was your first year, after all.

"nevermore kids have always been fuckin' weird," the boy stated factually.

you almost wanted to laugh. you put on an apron and some casual clothes, and suddenly you weren't an outcast. they must've deemed you as 'normal' enough to fit in with them— how pathetic.

"oh, really?" you chose to entertain him for a little longer, pretending to be really into his 'cool' take. but there was that familiar glint in your eye that showed just how irked you were. "how else would you describe them?"

"kooky, dangerous, fuckin' crazy," the guy and his friends snickered, nudging each other as though they were suddenly stand up comedians, "trust me. it's a good thing that after today they'll go back to their creepy-ass castle and stay there."

you hummed in faux agreement, opening your mouth to finally tell them of your fib, before the guy continued.

"you should stay away from them. especially him," he nodded at xavier. "hang out with us instead," he looked you up and down as though you were a piece of meat.

your fake smile immediately fell at that comment, the hand holding your pen gripping it tighter as you stood back up. you took a step closer to the normie, fully ready to beat him to a pulp, before a hand grabbed your shoulder and turned you around immediately.

"what the hell, thorpe?" you hissed, feeling his hands on your shoulders as he quite literally steered you away from them. he let you to where tyler— wednesday's friend that xavier obviously disliked —stood behind the cafe bar.

"what happened now?" tyler asked, obviously concerned as he looked at the group of boys sitting in the booth. they were all talking amongst themselves, their eyes set on you and xavier.

wordlessly, you shoved the notepad with their orders towards tyler, refusing to look at xavier as he scolded you.

"you were about to beat him up, and while he did have it coming, this isn't the right place for that." xavier leaned on the cafe bar, eyes still warily set on you. "are you even listening?"

"i don't have to look at you to be listening," you snapped, taking one of the boys' orders from tyler.

"you two just never stop arguing do you," tyler commented as he pulled another espresso shot and poured it into a mug. he turned around to finish the drink. as per usual, xavier ignored him.

you observed the latte for a second before you leaned over it, letting a huge glob of spit plop into the mug.

"you've got to be kidding," xavier groaned, and you sent him an innocent smile as you took the next order from tyler. luckily for you, tyler was too preoccupied with making drinks to notice that you spat in the next mug. and the next. and the next— you spat in every single one of their mugs.

you reached for a tray and began placing the mugs on it, avoiding xavier's eyes as you said, "they were saying shit about nevermore—"

xavier's eyebrows furrowed, "people say shit all the time—"

"and about you," you finished. you picked up the mugs and looked at him, your expression unreadable. you turned to walk to the boys, your fakest smile gracing your face yet again as you passed out the mugs. "here you go, boys."

"bet you actually are one of those nevermore freaks," the same guy who had been flirting with you said as he took his mug. he took a sip from it, one that you watched sadistically. you reached over to place a mug in front of his other friend, only for his hand to come up and grab your arm— the one with your tattoo on it. "i bet this is some cult shit, isn't it?"

and with that, you set the mugs down on the table and punched him in the nose. the strength of your punch knocked his head back against the seat of the booth, making everyone turn their heads your way. there was a sickening crack that echoed in the air the second your knuckles collided with his face.

"you broke my nose!" the boy yelled, holding his profusely bleeding nose with a handful of napkins.

"never touch me again." you huffed angrily, brushing off your bloodied knuckleson your apron as you turned to his friends, who were frantically checking to see if he was okay. "enjoy your coffee," you said through gritted teeth, talking back to where xavier and tyler stood.

"okay, maybe i should teach you how to make drinks," tyler motioned for you to come to the other side of the bar, concern evident on his face.

"they had it coming that time," xavier muttered to you as you passed him.

a small, proud smile graced your face at that.

most of the day continued in relative peace, the only problems being the constant bickering between you and xavier. you could tell that you both were wearing tyler out by the hour. he only ever really conversed with you, for his attempts to talk to xavier were quickly ignored. you observed how they acted around each other; it was as though tyler kept trying to get along with him while xavier just couldn't care less.

it was like they had history.

the sight of a familiar pigtailed girl made you look to the side of the cafe bar, a small chuckle of amusement escaping your lips. xavier and wednesday walked up to the cafe bar; xavier's mood seemed to lighten up significantly.

"lovesick fool," you muttered under your breath as they approached, before looking at wednesday confusedly. you placed your arms on the counter and leaned forward. "that happened to pilgrim world?"

"i deserted my post with what little sanity i have left." wednesday peered at your bruised hand for a second, eyes snapping back up to meets yours. "did you beat someone up?"

"she broke some normie's nose," xavier explained, copying your actions as he leaned on the counter. he managed a shadow of a smile as he looked at wednesday, asking, "do you want coffee? i think y/n finally learned how to make something edible."

"i'm sure you know all about edible things, wouldn't you," you grumbled under your breath, making xavier send you a warning glare.

"i'm actually here for tyler."

xavier's lighthearted smile fell at that, the psychic not even trying to hide his obvious discontent. "i told you he was bad news."

you raised a brow at xavier, your previous observation of xavier's immediate dislike of tyler only confirmed by his words. "why is that?" you asked curiously, ignoring wednesday's look.

she didn't seem to agree with xavier's words.

"you told me twice. but who i speak to is my business." wednesday stated, turning to ring the cafe's bell.

xavier's jaw clenched as his eyes trailed down, jealousy overcoming him as he allowed wednesday to talk to who she actually came to the cafe for.

tyler came out from the back, an immediate smile making its way onto his face at the sight of the dreary girl. "you rang?" he asked, making xavier scoff and walk the other way to join you behind the counter.

"you're both horrible," you said matter-of-factly as you cleaned the espresso machine absentmindedly. for someone who was so keen and in touch with her senses, wednesday was completely blind to the fact that the two boys were fawning over her. that, or she just didn't care— you were guessing that it was the latter.

"shut up," xavier grumbled as he walked past you. "don't even start on the thing you always say—"

"what, about just telling her how you feel?" you rolled your eyes, hearing the familiar ding of the door as wednesday made her leave. "i'm giving you sold advice," you took your rag and walked to the sink where xavier was washing some mugs, "and you just keep ignoring it,"

"i don't need advice for this. especially not from a past hookup."

"what, does that matter?" you narrowed your eyes at him as you placed your rag next to the sink.

"and that shit you pulled at the poe cup?" xavier glared at you, his cheeks burning red, "you can't not act like the shit we did that one night was a one time thing when you pulled that on me."

"why are we even talking about this?" you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. "it worked. my team won. i was just fucking with you, thorpe."

"right." xavier continued washing the mugs, refusing to look at you as he did. he didn't like you romantically — he didn't think he did, at least.

he was sure it was just enamor. you were attractive and had a certain beauty to you had left him finding himself drawing you time and time again. but your obvious dislike of him was something that couldn't be ignored— especially your avoidance of anything that showed attachment. it wasn't like he was blind. he could see that you constantly kept yourself guarded even when you didn't believe you were. you could be surrounded by enid and wednesday, the two people he was sure that you were friends with, but you wouldn't tell them anything about yourself that wasn't about your long record of trouble or something about school.

wednesday talked about her brother and mother sometimes. enid mentioned her brothers almost daily, especially to xavier; she missed them, but they were a constant reminder that she hadn't wolfed out yet. the most anyone knew about you that wasn't remotely violent was that you was that you liked pottery.

he only eavesdropped a couple times, but it only confirmed his conclusion; in reality, wednesday and enid knew nothing about you. no one did.

"are you going to the dance, y/n?"

you shook your head as you sat stiffly next to xavier in botany. it was an unfortunate accident, honestly; you were late to class one time and you had to sit next to him out of all the people. botany wasn;t you strong suit; you had the opposite of a green thumb. "it's not really my thing. besides— i didn't get asked."

“never took you as someone who wouldn’t ask first,” xavier commented as he leaned down to get his sketchbook. he let out a groan as he grabbed it before placing it on your shared table.

you only shrugged in response, placing your chin on the palm of your hand. absentmindedly, you watched him, asking "what'd you do?"

"i tweaked my back while fencing."

"pay more attention to stretching, then." you narrowed your eyes at some claw marks on his neck. his collar didn't completely cover up the entirety of the wound, making the three claw marks visible under it.

"the orchid produces a pheromone that mimics a female insect.." ms. thornhill explained in the background, but you were too focused on his marks to pay full attention.

"where'd that come from?" you asked, nodding at his neck.

xavier huffed in annoyance, focusing on thornhill ahead of him as he responded. "those images i drew of the monster. my abilities made it come to life and it attacked me."

you didn't seem entirely convinced, but you nodded anyway.

"luring the males in," thornhill continued to move her hands passionately as she spoke, "now, once the plant is pollinated, what do the male insects get in exchange?"

"nada. just like all the guys at the rave'n," bianca said with an amused smile, all the students laughing at her joke.

"okay, okay," thornhill calmed all of you down with her hands and a smile, "i know you're all excited about saturday, which is why i haven't assigned any homework." she paused as sounds of agreement echoed through her conservatory, "but i do still need volunteers for the decorating committee."

hands shot up from around the crowd, your head still boredly on your palm as you observed them.

"anyone interested, come and see me up here."

"you're not gonna volunteer?" xavier asked you teasingly, a smirk gracing his face. "with you being able to fly, i'm sure you can help put some of the disco balls up." he only seemed half serious about his words, but guessing by his teasing tone, he was probably just messing with you. "there's even a dj— mc blood suckaz."

"they have ladders," you replied blankly. "and i'd rather not listen to whatever soundcloud rapper they hired to dj."

xavier chuckled softly to himself at that, watching you begin to pack up your things. he hesitated for a moment as he turned the words he was about to say in his head. but nonetheless, he said them anyway. "it'd be more tolerable if you invited someone. loosen up a little— god knows you need it."

"what's that supposed to mean? aren't you a prude?"

"you're a lot more prudish than me," xavier said in faux seriousness, putting his sketchpad in his bag and standing up. he swung his bag over his shoulder. "but i'm serious— haven't you thought about just asking someone?"

"no. i'd rather fight a war than go," you stated dryly, throwing your own bag over your own shoulder.

dances weren't your thing. a part of you always wanted to be asked to go to a dance— it was nice to be wanted sometimes —but you knew that it would be an overall bad idea. going to the dance was one of the many things that could risk you getting attached to another. and with a humanoid monster running around in the neighboring woods, you didn't want to get attached only to bring their soul up to heaven.

xavier walked away from you, leaving you standing near your desk. you sighed as you readied yourself to leave, only for a hand to come and tap your shoulder.

you turned around, being met with wednesday with thing on her shoulder. "did you see those scratches?" she asked you dryly, and you only nodded, motioning for her to follow you as you walked.

"he said he got it from those drawings he has of the monster— y'know, the one i told you about." you shrugged as you grabbed the straps of your backpack. "i'm not entirely convinced."

"neither am i. is that why we're following him?" wednesday looked further down ahead of the both of you, xavier's tied hair visible over many of the students.

"he always disappears after botany," you sent her a lopsided smile, "aren't you even a least bit curious?"

"i suppose."

the two of you followed xavier into the woods to where an abandoned building was. fortunately, both you and wednesday were knowledgeable in sneaking enough to remain undetected by the artist. your feet were light against the fallen leaves, barely making any loud noises as you came to a stop near the building. xavier slipped into it, disappearing for a few minutes before he came out again with a sketchbook in his hand.

your eyes followed him as he left. you waited for a minute before you and wednesday walked to the building. you opened the door, murmuring, "idiot doesn't even keep it locked," before you walked inside with wednesday close in tow.

xavier had seemingly turned the old building into a studio. the room was littered with art supplies ranging from charcoal, to pencils, to paint. easels were set up further down the room, all of them works in progreess. wednesday pulled down the switch to the light, and finally, you were able to see the images clearly.

almost every single piece of art had the monster on them. its eyes were huge as it stared at you from beyond the paper. its teeth were as sharp as you remember, and you found yourself reminiscing the way it felt when you kicked it away from rowan's dying body.

"every artist needs their muse," you murmured, peering up at the images.

wednesday picked up a few torn pages from xavier's book. "is this what you meant?" she asked you, and you looked over her shoulder and nodded. they were the pages you saw in xavier's book. one of the pages showed the monster in what seemed to be a spiral cave. wednesday immediately folded the pages and shoved them into her backpack. "let's go."

you walked out after wednesday, shutting the door gently behind you. wednesday had already walked back into the woods, and you turned, ready to follow her, only to hear footsteps right behind you.

"y/n?" xavier's voice called out, making you freeze as you turned around.

"thorpe." you responded in greeting, fists clenching and unclenching. oh, how you wished to be in wednesday's position, walking halfway down the woods without having to deal with being caught. "hi."

"hi— what're you doing?" xavier asked you, shoving his hands into his pockets. he looked at you suspiciously, but you forced yourself to play a cool front as you nodded at the studio.

"nothing. i just saw you walk over here; what is this place?" who were you kidding? you had snooped through the entire thing already; you knew exactly what it was. but you had to change the subject.

"it's kind of my private art studio," xavier said, turning to look at the studio before focusing on you again. "after i fixed it and clear it out, weems let me use it."

"that's nice of her. can i look inside?" you asked with a tilt of your head, eyes almost hopeful.

"it's a mess in there. maybe some other time." xavier shook his head. "but why were you looking for me?"

nervousness thrummed through your body as you searched your brain for an excuse. you cleared your throat, leaning back on the balls of your feet. "i wanted to ask about thornhill's homework."

"she didn't give us homework," xavier frowned. "remember?"

oh, you were so fucked. you swallowed thickly, racking your brain for another excuse.

but there was a smile tugging at the corners of xavier's lips. you watched him as he took a step towards you, humming as he pretended to think. "is this about a specific dance on saturday? what did you say again?"

"stop."

"'i'd rather fight a war than go,'" xavier mocked your tone of voice, making you groan. even in a situation like this, he was still so infuriating. but xavier looked like he was having a blast, his cheshire smile only growing. "well, go on. i'm listening."

you sent him a deadpan look. "are you really going to make me say it?"

"oh, absolutely," he was practically ecstatic at this point, seeing you so reluctant to ask the question. xavier grinned at you as you looked away from him.

a weary sigh escaped your lips as you muttered the question quietly.

"say it again?" xavier said, his smile so wide that his dimples were starting to show. he loved seeing you like this; it was so uncharacteristic of you to be so nervous when asking such a simple question. usually, you lacked any kind of filter and said what you wanted. but to see you roll the words in your mouth in preparation of saying it again; the sadistic part in him loved it.

"would you—" you let out a sharp exhale as you stuttered, forcing yourself to look directly into xavier's eyes. "would you think about going to the rave'n dance.."

xavier's eyes drifted up as he pretended to ponder your upcoming question. but the smug smirk on his face remained, which only made you all the more angry that you were in this position in the first place.

"would you go to the rave'n with me?" you forced out through gritted teeth, a sigh of relief escaping you.

xavier chuckled in amusement before nodding. "how kind of you for asking. i'd love to go to the dance with you, y/n. i thought you'd never ask."

"you only want to go because i asked you first."

"yeah, but it was completely worth it," xavier laughed, making you roll your eyes and turn away from him. with that, you walked away, fully ready to tell wednesday of your predicament.

you returned to your room, face burning red as you shut the door behind you and announced to your roommates blankly, "i'm going to the rave'n with xavier."

wdenesday almost wanted to laugh.

"oh my god— y/n odinsdottir is going to the rave'n?" enid squealed, jumping out of her bed to grab you by the shoulders. you only let her, standing stiffly as she shook you.

"how did you get yourself into that predicament?" wednesday asked flatly, looking up from her desk to look at you.

"he arrived after you left the studio," you grumbled, ignoring enid's squeal. "i had to come up with something to not seem suspicious."

"stick close to him. it'll give us a chance to have more intel," wednesday stated, making you shrug.

you weren't one to use people for information, but with the abundance in murders in the woods and the fact that you didn't want to go to the dance inthe first place, you couldn't help but agree. besides; the quicker you got the monster, the less lives would be lost. "sure, why not."

"you know that you need?" enid asked, clapping her hands together in realization.

"revenge."

"a dress!"

you shifted uncomfortably at the idea. but enid was right; you had no dresses. you liked them, sure, but you haven't worn one in ages. the idea of it was kind of nerve-racking. you sighed, officially giving up as you nodded. "you're right, i do."

"wednesday— you and thing have to come along with us! we need opinions!" enid practically skipped over to her bag, throwing it over her shoulder.

"you already know that the answer is no. why are you even asking?" wednesday said drearily, watching the overly ecstatic girl practically jump around the room.

"because y/n will be miserable trying out all those dresses!" enid said casually, sending you a quick apologetic smile. "sorry, y/n."

you could only sigh in exasperation. "it's the thought that counts. i guess."

"i suppose i wouldn't mind seeing y/n in some misery." wednesday stood up abruptly, thing climbing onto her shoulder. "i'll come along."

"oh my god, this is like a girl's day!" enid hooked her arms under wednesday's, practically dragging her over to you. "i can't believe that excuse actually made you want to go."

you didn't know what to expect when enid dragged you to a store called 'hawte kewture.' the obvious lack of care for spelling and punctuation already made you cringe inwardly; you weren't even inside yet.

"isn't this exciting?" enid asked, grinning wildly, "our first roomie shopping spree! the dance committee's suggesting all white to match the theme, but that's not gonna fly with us."

"i'd literally rather do anything but worry about a dress for a dance i don't want to go to," you grumbled, your grumpiness doing nothing to deter enid's positivity.

"i have more pressing matters to attend to." with that, wednesday left, not even listening to enid's complain of, 'but we were bonding!'

"she has a lot to deal with, i guess," you mumbled, slightly envious as enid pulled you into the shop after yoko, divina, and their friend. the shop was as bright as it was on the outside, and while you could certainly see its appeal for someone like enid, it just wasn't your taste. the entire area was full of pastel colors, and while their dress collection was wide, you were sure that you really had to look for a dress you'd like.

"y/n. i heard you asked xavier to the dance," yoko said as you and enid walked up to her. her arm was around divina, and she sent you a fanged smile.

"i did," you said though gritted teeth. curse nevermore students and their huge tendency to gossip. "i really hate how gossip spreads that quickly."

"i mean, it was kind of weird news to hear," enid said as you all walked to a rack. her hands began to look through the dresses that hung on the clothesrack as she continued, "you and xavier have been at each other's throats since the moment you two met. and the fact that you asked him!" enid laughed to herself, "i've never been more proud!"

"thanks. i think." you absentmindedly looked through the dresses. all of them weren't your style, and you only looked on boredly as you swiped through each one.

for an hour, you watched the others find their dresses. each of them would try their options on and do a faux catwalk for you out of the changing room, only to be fired down by your opinions. you tried to be as honest as possible— they did ask you to, after all —and you guessed that this was a fitting scenario to be brutally honest.

enid did have to tell you to lower the ante on the brutally part.

but as you sat there on the sofa chair the employees had kindly provided for you, you found yourself close to giving up. that is, until your eyes landed on a dress on a mannequin.

it was a golden, nearly off the shoulder dress that flowed down beautifully. its shoulders were cut out, but the arm sleeves were cut open to reveal a silky cloth that fell all the way down. there was a loosely tied silk belt around the waist, and a deeper gold thread acted as an intricate design in the middle of the dress. you walked up and observed it closer, looking at the back of the dress. it dipped enough to show off your back tattoo.

"this dress would be perfect, y/n!" enid said excitedly as she came up behind you. "it's the perfect shade of gold and won't stand in too much, and screams 'look at me!' you should try it on."

"so where are we putting the murder board?" you asked wednesday as you hung your dress up in your closet. the pitter patter of thing's fingers came your way, and you looked down and managed a small smile. "it's nice, right? i got it yesterday."

"it's very fitting," thing signed in response. "are you excited?"

"gods, no." you laughed, brushing off some dust from the dress. "i'd rather be anywhere but there."

you were just looking at it as an excuse to dress up and look pretty. it was also an excuse to gain more information out of xavier; there was something up with him, you had to admit that.

there was nothing else going on besides that.

"we're keeping at eugene's beekeeping quarters." wednesday held the board in her hands, glancing into your closet. "i see you actually found something to wear. was the process as miserable as enid said it would be?"

"it was the only dress i tried on. the others were revolting." you picked up the photos from wednesday's bed, along with a small box of tacks.

truthfully, you hadn't gone out to eugene's beekeeping quarters ever since you arrived at nevermore. you talked to eugene occasionally— you found it interesting that he could casually control bees as though they were nothing, and his personality was a little quirky, but you didn't mind. he was just a kid.

"y/n! you finally came out here," eugene said with a bright smile, fixing the scarf wrapped around his neck.

"just here to help wednesday with the murder board," you said with a shrug, managing a small smile. "how's the honey?"

"here!" eugene handed you a small mason jar full of honey. "i know you ran out the last time i gave you some, so i got you a bigger batch!"

"thank you," you said sincerely, a rare, genuine smile making its way onto your face at his kindness. you had told him previously that you liked to mix honey in with your tea on gloomy days, and now you had an endless supply of honey.

"i assume this is the creature that's been rampaging the woods?" eugene asked, pointing towards one of xavier's art pieces.

"you've heard about it before?" wednesday asked.

"just rumors. i'm banned from bug hunting until further notice," eugene turned to you, his toothy grin wide as he continued, "i heard you kicked it!"

"i did," you squinted at the photos of all the victims. you could almost feel the pain they were in; your abilities only allowed you to bring souls that were under a war, or someone who died in a fight. the victims of the monsters were unsuspecting. there was no war when they were killed; they were killed for fun.

but because you were technically an an angel, you could easily feel the anguish they experienced prior to their deaths. almost none of them had any idea that they would be killed so quickly and so brutally. they died in confusion and shock.

"mr. fitts claimed that a bear was on the loose, but i knew it was a lie— it didn't match their hibernation schedules." eugene's eyes raised when he remembered something, and he turned around to bring out another mason jar of honey. "speaking of monsters with sharp claws, could you give this to your roomie?" he handed it to wednesday, who only looked at it blankly. "i hear she's still sans date for the rave'n."

"eugene," wednesday said in a warning tone. you hid your chuckles behind a quick cough.

"i know the chances of her asking me are next to zero, but i don't care!" the poor boy was so optimistic that you had to fully turn your attention to the murder board to stop yourself from letting him down easily.

maybe you were getting a hang of not being too brutally honest.

"i'll continue to put myself out there until enid finally.. sees me," eugene sighed a lovesick sigh.

"and if she never does?" wednesday asked judgementally, a hint of jealousy in her tone. how unusual was it that the usual stone cold wednesday seemed only mildly perturbed that a kid wanted to ask enid out?"

"i'm playing the long game," eugene responded confidently, making another chuckle leave your lips. "my moms say people will appreciate me when i'm older. they're probably just trying to make me feel better."

poor kid.

"i know you're going to the rave'n, y/n. how did you end up asking xavier?" eugene asked innocently, but you only groaned in response.

"gods, this again. i had to ask him because wednesday and i got caught investigating," your mood soured at the reminder of having to go to the dance with xavier. if he thought that you were dressing up for him, he was as stupid as you thought. "i have ulterior motives, though."

"that sucks, but at least you have a date!" eugene said with that usual nonstop optimism of his. "but wednesday, are you not going to the rave'n?"

"no. everything on this murder board is far more pressing than a school dance." wednesday crossed her arms over her chest as she gazed at xavier's art. "sketches are the closest thing i have to a lead to try and stop this thing."

"that spiral thing the monster's standing on," eugene said, squinting through his glasses. "i think i know where that is."

eugene led you both to a huge spiral cave, the dark void inside doing nothing to calm the goosebumps you received upon your arrival. the entire thing felt like it had horrible negative energy and the feeling of eyes watching you never ceased. hesitantly, you let your sword appear, the metal glinting in the soft sunlight. you gripped the familiar handle as you began to walk closer to the cave with the both of them behind you.

"don't worry, y/n! i'm sure we'll be able to help you if the monster is in here!" eugene chuckled nervously, following close behind your form.

"do you see anything?" wednesday asked you, but as you peered into the deep hole, you found nothing but darkness.

"no." you shook your head, "we'd have to go in if we wanted to find something."

"i can't go in there." eugene shook his head rapidly, stepping back from the cave. "i'm claustrophobic."

you were already going into the cave, your steps careful at the steep entrance and your head bowed low. wednesday looked at eugene. "if you hear us screaming bloody murder, i'm probably enjoying it. y/n, not so much." with that, the turned back to the cave and went after you.

eugene sighed before following closely behind wednesday.

the den of the cave was a lot wider and taller than its entrance. you looked down at the bones that were near your feet. you were thankful that they were deer bones.

eugene's flashlight landed on a pair of chains that hung on the wall of the cave. you reached forward with your sword and moved it. your sword went up to trace the scratched that were on the wall of the cave, your lips tugging into a frown. "these chains are strong, but not strong enough," you thought out loud.

"yahtzee." wednesday crouched down to pull a claw out of a crack in the cave. "this will be our concrete proof to the sheriff," she said to you.

that was how you found yourself at xavier's studio yet again, looking around xavier's trash bin. it was wednesday's plan, but you offered to go inside instead of her; you probably had more leeway. so while you were inside, wednesday was out in the bushes, and thing was keeping watch near the door.

one of your hands held a ziplock bag as you used a paintbrush to poke around his trash. a victorious smile tugged at your lips when you found a bloodied rag at the very bottom. "gotcha."

the sound of the door creaking made you quickly put the napkin in the ziplock bag and pocket it, your body turning away form the trash. you were face to face with xavier, who only seemed shocked that you were inside.

"the hell are you doing in here?" xaiver asked, obviously annoyed by your sudden entrance.

"are you sure that the monster's just been in your visions?" you asked him, looking at the huge canvases dedicated to one monster. "or are these self portraits?"

"you cannot be serious right now," xavier laughed bitterly, but you continued on, taking a step towards him.

"you saved wednesday's life once. the monster was attacking rowan when he was attacking wednesday— it practically saved her." your tone was becoming more accusatory by the second, your brows knotting together as the pieces began to fall into place.

"this is literally the painting that came to life and swiped at me," xavier nodded to a nearby canvas of an unfinished painting of the monster. "cmon, y/n. i've explained myself to you so many times—"

"and the lair in the woods?" you asked, cocking your head to the side. "from one of your sketchbooks. you drew the monster in its lair, thorpe."

xavier's face contorted into a pained expression. he wasn't sure what he expected from you; a part of him did think that your ask was genuine. it was all too complicated for him to explain— it was like he liked that you asked him but didn't at the same time. it was all too much of a mess to make any sense of it, but as he stood in front of you while you interrogated him, it suddenly all made sense.

"you were in here. god, of course," xavier laughed in disbelief, "when i caught you outside. you were just snooping around in here." he shook his head to himself, the overall disbelief being too much to comprehend. "you were just gonna use me, weren't you?"

"gods, no—"

"no, you were," xavier hissed, "what were you gonna go to the dance with me and ask me for more info? is that it, so that you and wednesday can prove i'm the monster? i've explained myself enough for you both to believe me."

"it's nothing personal, thorpe, jesus christ."

he chuckled darkly to himself, his voice raising as he said, "nothing is ever personal with you, y/n," he spat, the comment making your facade fall for a second. "no one knows anything genuine about you. your roommates barely know a thing about you because you're so fucking guarded all the time! do you even care about anyone or anything that isn't even remotely violent?"

you swallowed thickly, your mouth opening to defend yourself before xavier continued to speak.

"all you know is war."

he didn't understand.

"fuck you," you seethed, shoving past him as you made your way out of the studio. you walked towards where wednesday was hidden in the bushed, her expression blank as usual as you gave her the bloodied rag. without another word, you walked back to your dorm.

xavier's words echoed in your head as you walked, your throat feeling constricted as you swallowed thickly.

all you know is war.

"fucking stupid," you muttered under your breath, angry tears slipping out of your eyes that you harshly wiped.

in a way, you knew that xavier was right.

it wasn't like you could help it— you were quite literally an angel of war —but you also knew that that wasn't an excuse for it all. your second eldest sister, eir, was millennia years old, and yet she was the most peaceful out of your siblings. whenever a disagreement would break out, she was there to help. whenever brunhilde and your father, odin, fought, eir was the one who stepped in.

she was a peacemaker as much as she was wonderful at her job. you always heard stories about her from your sisters; she never fought a war that she had tried to previously avoid.

you wished you were like her.

you turned a different corridor from where your dorm was located, finding yourself standing in front of weem's office door. taking a deep breath, you knocked. weems' muffled, 'come in!' made you open the door.

"y/n." weems seemed as shocked as you to find you standing at her doorway. her eyesbrows were raised high above her forehead as you shut the door behind you and walked towards her briskly.

"i need you," you swallowed thickly again. gods, you hated crying. "i need you to burn those old documents. the ones about my foster homes."

"you and i both know that i can't do that, y/n." weems' voice was calm as she placed her hands on her desk, clasping them together. "are you alright, dear?"

"i'm fine," you forced out, sniffing harshly, "i just— please, just burn them. get rid of them. anything."

weems sighed, bringing out your folder. she brought out the forms from your orphanage, all paperclipped together neatly. in the front was a photo of you when you were younger; barely 7, with two missing teeth missing as you smiled at the polaroid camera.

"i cannot burn these forms, y/n."

"they have everything about me that i've moved on from," your words were so quick that they seemed to mold together. you were frantic at this point, yet you took a deep breath to calm yourself. "my sisters had those forms terminated because i wanted to forget that part of my life."

"you cannot easily forget 13 years of your life, y/n," weems said concernedly, "it will be a part of you for the rest of your life."

"i don't want it to be," you spat bitterly, eyes burning with tears again as you practically pleaded with her. "i've worked so hard to forget that part of my life, so please. burn them."

"i cannot do that, y/n." weems was firm with her decision, which only made you sniff again, harshly wiping your nose.

you left weems' office abruptly, your obviously turmoiled mind making you go to the archery range. it was dark outside now, but you still found yourself stretching your wings out and flying over jericho. the cold air whipped your face as you tried to ignore xavier's words that still repeated like a mantra in your head.

all you know is war.

you were flying for hours it seemed, too deep in your thoughts to force yourself to return to your dorm. but you had to admit that it was a beautiful night; the full moon was out tonight, and you heard the distant howling of wolves in the forest. the stars were shining as bright as ever over your head as you flew.

flying gave you peace.

the next morning, you begrudgingly approached wednesday and eugene, both in deep conversation about the monster in the quad.

"y/n— we're going to stake out the cave and identify the monster." eugene said, obviously much too excited to be doing something dangerous. "oh wait; i forgot you were going to the dance."

"not anymore," you stated dryly, hands holding onto the straps of your backpack. you glanced at eugene and wednesday and shook your head. "i'm not gonna explain." you looked over at xavier, who was working on his raven mural. he glanced at you only briefly before focusing on his mural again.

that night, you shoved on a black backless longsleeve as you got ready to stake out with eugene. you had to be ready in case anything happened; you brought your sharpest knives and packed snacks to keep yourself full of energy. you put on an black leather jacket over your clothes, turning to wednesday, who was also getting ready.

the jacket was your father's. it was one of the few things he had given you the last time he saw you.

a knock on the door made you turn your head, wednesday yelling, "coming eugene!" as she walked over.

"hey, did you grab any extra batteries for the flash—tyler." her voice died in her throat when she saw the barista standing at the doorway.

"tyler?" you peeked over the side of the door, eyebrows raising when you saw the boy's all-white getup and the corsage in his hands. "wednesday, i thought you weren't going to the dance," you said cautiously, sending the pigtailed girl a look.

"i got your invite," tyler stammered, holding up an envelope. "i'm guessing you had thing drop it in the tip jar?"

you snorted as you returned to packing your things, thing climbing up your bed as they made a sign that looked a lot like laughing. "it was you, wasn't it?" you asked amusedly, and thing nodded proudly.

"good guess." wednesday forced out, and you chuckled to yourself as their conversation died into the background.

"are you sure you're not going to the dance?" thing asked you, making you sigh as you shoved your flashlight into your backpack.

"i'm staying away from socializing for a while," you said in response, eyes cold as you finally zipped up your backpack. "it's prbably for the best."

"that sounds like the opposite of what you should do," thing signed.

"it's whatever. my sisters were right, anyway." the door shut on tyler as wednesday quickly walked to her closet, obviously bothered by thing's interference.

"genuine and sweet? how could you do this to me?" wednesday asked, fully betrayed by thing as she rummaged through her closet. "can you believe it, y/n? he actually believed i would write a sweet letter— how oblivious."

"truly." you glanced at thing as they pointed at a dress on wednesday's bed. it was a beautifully gothic dress, one that you were sure was made for wednesday, but you found yourself frowning. "are you not gonna stake out with eugene and i?"

"no, i can't. not after what thing pulled—"

"c'mon wednesday, just admit that you wanna go with tyler to the dance," you groaned, throwing your backpack over your back. "i'm gonna head out. don't do anything i wouldn't do."

the entire main entryway of nevermore was decked out for the rave'n. white cloth hung from the different entrances, and light up trees created a frame over doorways. people passed by you left and right, all dressed in complete white for the occasion.

you walked by bianca and xavier, xavier's eyes avoiding yours just as easily as you avoided his.

"where's wednesday?" eugene asked you as you walked down the steps. he was just as ready as you were, dressed in multiple layers and with his backpack practically bulging with what you knew were snacks.

"she decided to go to the dance. it'll just be us tonight," you said eugene, fixing the straps of your backpack. you watched his face fall, and you nudged him to try and lighten the mood. "it'll be okay. wednesday rarely willingly goes to events like the rave'n; she can sit this stake out out."

"it was her idea, though." eugene said sadly, following you as you walked out of the building.

you walked out into the woods with eugene, the night air cold against your face as you twirled a knife in your hand absentmindedly. thankfully, it seemed to be a pretty quiet night, as the only sounds were coming from the crickets and the wind.

"do you two really think that xavier is the mosnter?" eugene asked you as he pulled his second granola bar out of his backpack, opening it and taking a bite.

"he's a suspect. that's all." the cave came into view, and you crouched down near a nearby tree. "we can stay here." you made yourself comfortable as you leaned up against the tree, eugene sitting next to you.

he pulled out a recorder and began to talk into it. "eugene ottinger and—" he motioned for you to speak into it, and you sighed as you moved your head closer.

"y/n odinsdottir."

"2100 hours," eugene continued, "no movement at the cave. no sign of the target." the sound of a rather large grasshopper rang in his ears, and he smiled fondly. "although, i just heard a rare club-horned grasshopper."

you smiled softly to yourself as you listened to him. he reminded you a lot of the friends you made at your foster homes; all of them were bright and intelligent kids, all with their own specific interests that they never stopped talking about. when you were younger, you liked to listen to them. but depending on the house, they often lacked the freedom to speak so freely of their interests.

people weren't kind.

you both sat comfortably for nearly 2 hours, talking occasionally to each other. eugene was too busy snacking to talk most of the time, and when he did talk, he talked about bees and bugs. you swore you never met someone who could tell you the scientific name for practically every bug imaginable. sometimes, he even left your post to catch rare bugs.

"do you like, understand nordic?"

eugene's question made you snap out of your little bubble, your head turning away from the cave to glance at him.

"old norse, yeah," you replied, managing a tight lipped smile. "it's kind of automatic; comes with the whole valkyrie thing."

"that's so cool! i mean, i wish i could talk a whole other language. one some people might be able to understand, not just bees," eugene said casually. he had caught a bug moment before, and he was staring at it as he spoke.

your eyes drifted back to the cave, squinting as a car pulled up nearby it. you shushed eugene, your hand reaching for one of your knives.

"eugene ottinger and y/n odinsdottir. 22:42 hours." eugene whispered behind you as you grabbed some binoculars to look closer. usually you'd rely on your heightened eyesight, but you needed to gather as much evidence of the suspect as you could. "potential subject has arrived at location."

your brows knotted together as you watched the figure light something on fire and throw it into the cave. but suddenly, the figure's flashlight flashed towards you and eugene, the sudden brightness blinding you from seeing their face. but you felt like something was wrong, because right as the figure turned away and ran, you immediately turned around, your wings appearing to surround you and eugene.

the sound of an explosion made your ears ring, your arms wrapping around eugene tightly to keep him within the bubble of your wings. the fire was hot against your feathers as you waited for a second before letting eugene go. "we need to go. now."

eugene nodded frantically before the both of you ran back to nevermore. you let eugene run ahead of you, fearful that whoever was behind you would get to him first. you grabbed eugene, pulling him aside behind a tree. you raised your finger to your lips before whispering to him.

"i'm gonna carry you and fly out of here, got it?" you asked, and eugene could only nod quickly. your arms wrapped around eugene, ready to fly, until a pained groan left your lips.

long claws dug into your wings, staining the white of your wings red. the air was torn out of you as the monster lifted you up, your kicking doing nothing as you were lifted by the end of your wings.

you were horrified when you looked at eugene, who had a very faint golden glow around him.

when a glow was faint, that meant it was only up to the gods to decide whether or not he would survive.

"run!" you yelled at eugene, who quickly snapped out of his trance to run further towards nevermore.

you were held up in front of the monster, too far away from its body to make genuine damage. it was intelligent enough to know that it had to keep you from looking at it; being face to face with it would mean you could bring genuine damage. drops of your blood dropped onto the forest floor as the claws dug deeper into your back and your wings. you could feel the warm liquid seep down your back. you grabbed your made your sword appear, forcefully reaching behind you as you sliced the monster's arm.

but it did nothing to deter it. if anything, it only angered it more, its roar ringing wildly in your ears. it swatted your sword away with its free hand, making it land far away from you.

the monster used its free hand to grab your desperately flapping wings, taking one of them and bending them in half with a sickening crack.

and with that, you let out a bloodcurdling scream. it was as though someone had broken your spine and your leg all at once; the pain shot through your body like poison, and you found yourself sobbing as the pain seared you.

the monster reached for your other wing, which flapped twice as hard as you tried to escape its hold. but its claws were hooked into your skin and the roots of your wings, stopping you from fully escaping.

another scream left your lips as your other wing broke in half, the pain stabbing you yet again.

the wings, the only thing that ever gave you peace, were lifeless as the monster slammed you into the ground. the monster was smart enough to slam you back first into the cold ground, making you let out another scream as your clawed back and your broken wings harshly met the dirt.

your anguished screams echoed through the woods, reaching the ears of a running wednesday as she made her way down the forest. she had seen everything happen in her vision and was too panicked to tell others as she ran towards you and eugene.

but xavier was following behind her. he had lost sight of her ages ago, but your screams made his heart thump faster as he ran further into the woods.

eugene's cry for help made you try and sit up, a gut wrenching cry leaving your lips at the pain that shot harshly through your body. you couldn't get up— you were far too weak and losing far too much blood to fully raise your body.

"y/n?" xavier's yell made you try and sit up again, to no avail. your wings were limp on your back and too damaged to the point that you couldn't even fold them back into your back.

"xavier? xavier!" you yelled loudly, frantically looking around you. but all you saw were the tall trees and the darkness that surrounded you.

but xavier saw you before you saw him. you were on the ground, your wings bent horrifically around you as you tried to sit up again, a pained cry leaving your lips. you were able to get up, but the blood still seeped out of you like a leaking faucet.

"y/n, stop," xavier rushed towards you, trying to make you lay down, only for you to try and push him off with a bloodied hand. you didn't even ask why he was covered in what you saw was fake blood, the adrenaline making you too frantic as you shoved his hands away. "what happened?!"

"eugene. where's eugene?" you asked as xavier tried to make you stay seated. your eyes burned with tears as you looked around you for the kid, desperation in your tone as you shoved xavier again. "xavier, where's eugene?" your voice cracked as you put your hands on the forest floor and tried to put yourself up, only for xavier to stop you.

"y/n, you cannot get up. we need to get you help—"

"where's eugene?!" you snapped, tears shining as your eyes met xaviers. he swore that he never wanted to see you like that again; your voice breaking as you spoke, blood staining your face and nothing but desperation in your face.

"wednesday probably found him." xavier's eyes widened as you tried to stand up again. he put his hands on your shoulders. "can you just care about your health for one second?!"

"i can't," you cried out, shoving his hands off of your shoulders. yet again you tried to get up, but xavier put his hands on your shoulders and stopped you again. "i couldn't protect him," you cried, still trying to push xavier off of you. "stop stopping me xavier!"

"you did everything you could, y/n, please," xavier begged. he grabbed your head and held you to his chest as you sobbed. you tried to punch him away, your hits against his back and stomach still relatively strong. but you were too weak to fight anymore, your hands falling at your sides as you cried into his chest. tears dripped down xavier's eyes as he listened to your pain. he felt your arms slowly wrap around him, gripping his shirt in your hands.

"i couldn't protect him. he had the glow and i couldn't protect him," you sobbed, feeling xavier hold you tighter as you continued to cry. you felt his hand brush your hair down as you sobbed.

you sobbed for eugene, the kid you told yourself you would protect, now equally as mauled as you were. you sobbed for how weak you were against a monster; you should've done more. you sobbed for your wings, how they laid lifeless next to you as you cried like a child.

"i tried. i really tried," you whimpered.

in your mind, you should've tried harder. if you weren't so focused on making sure eugene was safe then you would've been able to save him.

"i know, y/n. i know." xavier swallowed thickly as his eyes drifted to your limp wings, lifeless on the forest ground. one of the bones was protruding out of your skin, blood dripping down the wound. your once pure white wings were stained crimson under the moonlight.

you turned your head to try and look at them, only for xavier to keep your head to his heaving chest. "don't." he said softly.

you tried to move them, but you couldn't feel anything but pain. "no, no, no," you tried to move them again, groaning in pain as you did, but they wouldn't move. "why can't they move? xavier, why can't they move—" you were frantic, and all xavier could do was hold you.

ACT V, ACT VI

#AUTHORSNOTE— xavier and the reader are so the neighborhood and arctic monkeys coded it's crazy. thank you for reading, and the next part will be out asap bc i'm excited to write it

#TAGLIST— @gamorxa @rayliz793 @cali-888 @targaryensswp @hopefulfuturenovelauthor @just-amess @maystecc @cmac-writes @ahnneyong @importantpuppyshark @mannstarkey @alienm0vie @carinacassiopeiae @simonsbluee @g3org1al33 @killmewithafanfic @nattheartless13 @astrynyx @idontknowwhattodo35 @addisonnie @wxnderingthoughts @r1dd1kulus @smol-book-nerd @555stargirl555 @wonderlandco @siriuslysmoking @skye231 @boomitsallie1 @southernraven @buckleylips @yunoguns @theprettytragic @levylovegood @slut4fictionalcharacters28

[kxxkiecxre]

ʚ✟⃛ɞ LANGUAGE || J.J.K ʚ✟⃛ɞ

PAIRING: Jungkook X reader.

SUMMARY: forgive and forget… with a little dick on the side of course to make up for it.

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, a lot of titty talk, a lot of hickeys, Jungkook has a big dick ����, so much kissing, Yeji is literally in the other room???, overstimulation cause purrrr, biting… I think that’s it? Lol

GENRE: best friends brother au.

Unedited because I bitch couldn’t be bothered… tbf tho I did edit a small bit but I hate editing so 🤭

WC: 5.3k

PREVIOUSLY… NEXT…

JUST LIKE many other people that surrounded you at the shop, you were tired, aching and internally screaming as you approached the lengthy queue, hoping to god another till opens up so you can get out of here as fast as possible and get home take a shower and sleep.

It’s been quite in the recent five months that you’ve last spoken to Jungkook, and like any good friends you and Yeji still hang out and talk. Which proved to be a little harder at first then you expected, but to your luck Jungkook has left for a match in America a couple days ago, so you and Yeji get to finally have a much needed sleepover at her place.

Rolling your neck around and trying your best to not fall asleep in the middle of the shop. As if to wake you up, a shopping cart bumps into you, and you whip around to look at the culprit, only to find two tiny hands holding onto the bar.

“Oh sorry!” The kid mumbles cutely, a floppy mess of hair on top of his head.

“Where’s your dad handsome?” You questioned, finally meeting the babies eyes, warm gentle and sweet.

“He said he’ll be back in two seconds” he smiled cutely, “and I’m five today!”

“Oh wow you’re five? Well happy birthday buddy” you smile just as you see his dad, a drop dead gorgeous man, approach.

“Thank you” he chuckles happily.

“I’m sorry, I hope he didn’t cause too much trouble” his dad, a tall beautiful Angel apologies.

Almost like you’re in a trance you softly say, “he’s a sweet kid, I don’t think you have to worry about him causing trouble”.

“Dad, can I ask her name?” The kid asks as his dad lifts him up in his arms.

“Well that depends if the lady will tell you her name.” He shrugs chuckling.

“I’m Y/N, what about you?”

“My name is roowon and this is my dad Seokjin!” He announces proudly.

“Nice to meet you guys!” You coo at him as he gives the sweetest smile to you.

Within small talk you exchanged numbers with Seokjin, promising to have dinner together as soon as both of your schedules clear up. And however much you may like about Seokjin, whose divorced from his wife for a year now, you can’t seem to stop thinking about someone who wasn’t even yours in the first place or the pain that comes with it.

Finding comfort in the warmth of your house did very little, and as much as you like the taste of your favourite wine, you know it won’t suffice the emptiness within you. Not even in a million years, but it does the job of keeping you calm.

However it doesn’t stop you from calling Jimin, and don’t get it wrong the sex is amazing, and Jimin is great. He’s apologised for what went down, and choosing pleasure over pain was too good to let go. You’re not one to hold grudges anyway, you’d rather forgive and forget.

But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what you needed, what you craved for. It wasn’t what you knew would settle the pain. And you felt awful about it, because Jimin was more than understanding as he laid beside you. Any woman would be lucky to have him, he’s a great person. The perfect guy even. The thing about you though, is you don’t fancy perfect. You like the waves that come with life, you adapted to that life. It’s all you know, since forever.

And life is just that, wavy, rocky and unsettled. But it’s comforting, it’s home. And Jimin… Jimin deserves better than that, he deserved someone as loving and perfect like him. He’s an Angel, an Angel you haven’t yet grown to appreciate. Which is ridiculous. Laughable. Stupid, even. Because any other sensible woman would ground him, marry him in a heart beat, and perhaps in another life you could see yourself with him. Having a family and a loving home, but at this moment? I’m this life? You don’t even know what the true meaning of a loving home is. You just don’t.

You’ve never had the comfort of your mothers embrace, or the comfort of your fathers protection. You’ve only ever had yourself. When you were little you’d cry yourself to sleep, you’d hug your own little body and comfort yourself the way your parents couldn’t. You didn’t have anyone to care for you, to worry about your late returns home on a night out. Your parents didn’t even have your number saved in their phone. They just didn’t care.

From a young age, you learned to fend for yourself. Cook, clean, and eventually make money to afford the things you needed, the things your own parents couldn’t provide.

The only thing you do remember, is the beatings, the way your skin would burn with every slap, whip and hit. The way you eventually stopped crying for them to stop, or the way your teenage self would wash away the blood or cover up the bruises. You knew all about that. You knew all too well how the rage in your fathers eyes was the only sense of comfort or attention you’ve ever gotten from him, the way your mother would grab onto your skin and dig her nails in, the way she’d scream and insult you and wish upon your death, that was the only touch of ‘love’ you’ve ever expected from her, the only attention you’ve ever received from them was just that, abuse. Neglect and pain.

Feeling loved, cared about and needed was more than welcome, but it was also more than strange. So maybe it wasn’t understandable, why you’d get slightly uncomfortable when someone would show you love, or kindness, and why you pushed away the people closest to you when they cared and worried about you because you never actually knew what it was before, so you weren’t used to it, so you pushed them away.

It’s bizarre how you want to love someone, to care and worry about them, yet don’t know how to feel about that being returned to you. You don’t know.

You carry the scars well though, they’re fairly easy to cover up and pretend like you’ve had the most general upbringing known to humanity. It’s, amazing.

Tiredness takes over you, and you finally fall asleep. Jimin watched the calmness on your face, covering you with the blanket more and exhaling. He knew about everything, he knew. He’s seen it too, maybe that’s why he knows you so well, he kisses your forehead before leaving your apartment and leaving a note.

The difficulty of waking up in the morning never gets easier, especially when you expected a warm body next to you, except to find it empty and cold. Confusion taking over your face as you roll out of bed, throwing on whatever first lands in your hands.

Your concern gets even worse when you notice the small letter on your kitchen counter, labelled Jimin.

You know better than to continue wasting time, I know you can never love me the way I’ve loved you for years, but within these years, I’ve learned that our souls are intertwined anyway, because I know exactly what you need, what you crave and what hurts you. I know it all in an instant. It’s almost like my body needs it too, and right the second I met him, I knew. I knew you were madly in love with him, I knew then, I had no chance. So within my frustration, I drank, far too much and let my mouth run. I am sorry. I know I apologised already, but I truly am sorry. You didn’t deserve it. I’ll move on eventually, I’ll learn to love someone else, like I’ve learned to keep your eyes staring into mine somewhere In the back of my mind, like I’ve learned to desensitise the scent of your hair away from my senses, or the need to feel your soft skin against my fingers. I’ve learned to love you from a distance, to care and appreciate you as much as I can because I knew that eventually, you’d fell in love with someone, that someone not being me was hard to accept at first, but it got easier. But stop the pettiness, fix the mess and go to him, you deserve love. You deserve to be happy, so be just that.

Happy,

Jimin.

That was absolutely not what you expected first thing in the morning, or the tears in your eyes. Or the guilt your body felt knowing you were unintentionally hurting Jimin. You wish it was easier. Easier to learn to love someone you don’t crave in that way. Easier to make yourself fall in love with someone who deserves you. You wish it was easy.

But nothing in life comes easy.

No, every step and breathe you take comes with effort. With every take want and need, you have to give. For the basic essentials and human life, you have to work. All day, all night, all life. Eternally. Everything has to be earned, because nothing. Absolutely nothing, comes free.

Work. Most of the time you hate it, but recently, it’s become your favourite place. You can take your mind off of everything going on in your life, invoke your mind with something else other than him. The person who so cruelly cut a hole in your heart and stole it, put it in his pocket and let it rot. How inhumane.

The bustle of the busy streets of Seoul always comforted you in some type of way. The many lights and many different people, styles and aesthetics made you feel alive, safe and not alone in this big city. It was easy to lose yourself once you were in it, but living here for half your life proved to help you out in some way.

“Mr. Kim wants you in his office.. pronto” Hoseok hands you your coffee, clicking number 9 on the elevator and you roll your eyes.

“I swear to almighty Jesus if he just wants to stare at me for five minutes and then ask me to order him lunch I will literally murder him with my hands” you grumble, obviously not amused.

“I don’t think that’s it…” he mumbles.

Sighing you walk out in a rush once the elevator dings, nodding a thank you to Hobi for getting you the much needed coffee. Preparing yourself for anything and everything outside of Kim’s office you finally enter the door, where he stands in almighty glory, looking good as ever.

“Y/N, please take a seat” he says, and you do, sitting in front of his desk and reading the name tag ‘CEO Kim Taehyung’ in pure awkwardness as he stares at you and then a letter.

“You need a break,” he takes a sip of his coffee as if the words he just said hurt him deeply, “take it and go before I throw a fit”

Shocked and taken a back you begin to protest, “hold on, Taehyung, no”.

“It’s Mr.Kim at work dumbass, now go before I literally slap you”

“But-“

“No but’s, unless we are talking about the other type of butts” he smirks chuckling.

“Tae are you pulling a prank on me?”

“Y/NNNAAAH, be professional and call me Mr.Kim” he whines dramatically.

“Shut up before I kick you in the balls,” you grumble, “why?”

“Because you’ve worked hard and as your only other male best friend aside from Hoseok, I am adamant on you getting a break before the bags under your eyes sue me”

“Oh don’t be dramatic,” you stand from your chair scoffing, “I’m fine, now let me get back to work”

“No can do workacholic,” he sets his mug on the table, “it’s home or the security guard will kick you out… or I’ll fire you.”

Shocked and gasping quite dramatically you say, “you would never.”

“Wanna find out?” He continues threatening.

“Kim Taehyung wait till I tell your father how manipulative you are” you practically growl at him as he pushes you other the door, and before he can take his hand away from your shoulder you bite him as hard as you can.

Flinching and gasping he looks flabbergasted as you straighten your back and sway your hips on the way out, “you are insane Y/N, INSANE” he yells after you.

At the elevator, once again, you ponder what to do now. Work was like your best distraction every since everything went down, Tae did a good job helping you mould yourself together and not to mention how considerate and sweet he was during that time. Taehyung’s wife was just a replica of him, except even better because she was a woman, and understood certain matters better than him.

Regardless, you sighed, opening your messages app and clicking onto Seokjin’s contact, messaging him a short “hey, off work for a couple days, want to have dinner soon?” And locked your phone again when the elevator reached third floor.

“Jung Hoseok, you dirty little cheating work husband, I will grab your balls and tie them in a knot the next time you choose to lie to me” you squint your eyes at him as you sit at the edge of his desk, watching as he gulps a little.

“I can explain,” he offers.

“No need, tell Yoongs to leave me a free space in a couple days hmm?”

“Can’t you ring him yourself-“

“He’s your roommate Jung, please he’ll listen to you more because you’re like number one best friends brothers thingy” you sigh rolling your neck around to release the gas that’s stuck.

“You’re so sly sometimes babe” he kissed his teeth as he leaned back into his chair.

“Mmm wonder where I got that from huh?”

Rolling his eyes with a small chuckle, he runs a hand through his dark hair, “you’re lucky I love you”

“On the contrary, you’re lucky I love you” you smiled.

“Besides, why do you need yoongi?”

Silence, dead silence fell into the atmosphere and Hobi figured you out in less than three seconds, “really?”

You nodded, biting your lip “a tattoo? I mean are you sure? Like that’s permanent?”

“Hoseok I know what a tattoo is” you dead pan, “I’ve been thinking of getting one for awhile anyway…”

His eyes turn worried for a minute, as he very gently speaks, “and you’re not just acting out because of you know….. Jungkook?”

Blinking you scoff, “you’re threading on thin ice Jung,” you get off his desk, leaning over him as you stare him dead in the eyes, face too close for comfort, “no man could make me do anything.”

Once you’re a safe distance from him, he lets out a breath shuddering a little, “do you forget I am a man sometimes?”

“No,” you smile sweetly, “I love watching you squirm because of me babe”

“I’m gonna divorce you”

“Awe too bad love, work couples can’t divorce.”

“Aren’t you suppose to be going home? Should I get Taehyung?”

Mouth falling open your eyes turn into slits and Hoseok prepares himself for the mouth full he’s about to get, “I will bite you and him. I won’t hesitate Jung Hoseok, besides keep messing with me and I’ll quit, no more seeing me no more free coffee and homemade lunch bitch” you walk away with a scoff.

Hoseok rushes towards you, desperately trying to catch up, “please not the homemade lunch,”

“Pfft, good luck sucker, he’s given me a week off” you stick your tongue out like a child once the elevator dings and the doors close.

“I’ve got both because I didn’t know what to choose” you mutter cutely as you set the wine and grocery bag on the counter.

Yeji stands beside you, eyes big and bright and expression that of a mellow kitten, like a child whose sipped on the most heavenly hot chocolate, “I missed you.”

Your heart skips a beat, internally beating yourself up for neglecting her during this whole thing. You awe as you hug her tightly, the smell of her strawberry shampoo never changing, “I’ve missed you too Ji.”

“I’m sorry, he can be an asshole sometimes but he shouldn’t be able to get between us” she mutters into your hair.

Your chest tightens as you hear her sniffle, she didn’t deserve this. You shouldn’t of done this to her, made her suffer with you. You’ve been a bad friend and you can recognise that, and you feel like utter shit about it because Yeji is priceless, she’s a diamond in disguise.

“I am so so sorry Yeji, I shouldn’t have let him get between us.”

The rest of the night was spent eating junk food and consuming an unhealthy amount of wine. As SpongeBob plays in the background and you apply the tiger sheet face mask on Yejis face you begin to tell her about Seokjin and Roowon.

“Was he good looking?”

“Oh ‘Ji,” you sigh heavily, “if you’ve only seen him, he’s like an Angel. God he’s gorgeous”

“Yah thats not fair! I wanna see him now”

“I’ll try sneak a picture of him when I’ll see him for dinner?”

Just as you say that, the sound of the hallway door dinging interrupts you, and both you and Yeji exchange looks of concern.

“Ji? I’m home, I hope you have no guy over because I’ll kick him out” the sound of his voice shakes everything inside of you. Everything becomes unstable like a poorly structured building during an earthquake.

Yeji looks at you sorrowfully, “yeah im here”

“The match got rescheduled so I thought I’d surprise you,” his voice faded it out as you didn’t dare to look his way, instead choosing to look at the wooden floor as your knees raised more inward towards to your chest, as if to protect your heart.

The silence was deafening, excruciating as all three of you didn’t know what to say, and you closed your eyes briefly as you cleared your throat, “I, Um, I can go?”

“No” Yeji immediately calls out, her voice, although not loud, seemed to echo off the walls as if even the furniture in the apartment froze in place, speechless.

“I’ll stay out the way don’t worry Ji” he mutters, pecking her head quickly before disappearing into the bathroom.

Yeji looked at you full of guilt, beginning to apologise but you stopped her, “it’s not your fault, plus we’re adults Ji, we can stay in the same room without hurting each other I promise. You’ve nothing to worry about, I’m okay.”

“I didn’t know he was going to be back” she continues, full of guilt.

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s okay. He’s your brother, besides, it’s not like I hate him. I still love him Ji, he was my best friend, that’ll never go away”.

For the rest of Jungkooks evening, all he had heard was your laughter. It rang through his body like an electric shock and he regretted everything. He hated himself for letting this drag on for this long, he hated that he couldn’t be there with you, laughing and sharing jokes like usually.

He drowned himself in everything possible to avoid hearing the conversation about a guy you met and how amazing he was, he worked, listened to music, texted his friends. But nothing worked.

And as the night died down and the house was consumed with silence. He laid on his bed, reminiscing the moments were he was your best friend. He remembered the time you went strawberry picking, you were dressed in the cutest outfit imaginable, a faded pink and white checkered dress, with pink wellies. Hair tied back in a bun with a strawberry claw clip.

He remembered how you shared the entire summer together, how he thought you to swim and how excited you were to be able to go to the depths of the ocean with him. How in love he was with you in the moment, the way your big surprised eyes stared into his as he dived underneath the water and came back up behind you, the way you’d call him Kookie in the times you needed him the most.

He remembers how you hate thunderstorms. How he spent the entire night with you on your couch, letting you cuddle into him and falling asleep in his lap.

It exactly that he regrets.

He regrets that he ruined the way you felt comfortable and safe around him and now he fears you’ll never be like that again.

For what seems like hours, Jungkook tosses and turns in his bed. Huffing in slight annoyance that his brain won’t shut off. Leaving his room in a haste he enters the kitchen, stilling for a moment as he sees you sat on the kitchen island, legs kicking back and forth as if you’re in deep thought.

He felt creepy standing there watching you eat your favourite cherry chocolates, the ones that had liquor inside. He remembers how much you love them.

He couldn’t go back to his room now, that’d be too awkward, especially since you’ve locked eyes with him for a mere second through the glass of the cupboards. He cleared his throat gently, going to the fridge to get his favourite whiskey, he could feel your presence behind him and he knew you were looking but you were stubborn.

You would not be the first one to say a word, he knows that, which is why he reaches for a second glass and fills both of them, turning to you with sad eyes, his hand extends toward you, holding the glass of whiskey outward, not thinking much you take it from him, throwing the liquid to the back of your throat and sighing. He does the same.

“I’m,” he clears his tight voice, “I’m sorry”.

You say nothing, biting your lip as he continues on, “I was out of line for the things I said. I’m aware, but I couldn’t help but feel protective. I’m sorry.”

“I was only angry because I have begged you to not get disqualified because of me, but you did that despite all of my begging” you whispered, barely audible and staring ahead as he looked at the side of your face.

“I’m sorry,” he swallows the lump in his throat, “I really am”.

“I know” is all you say. Not really giving him much aside from pushing the box of chocolate towards him.

“I miss you,” he mutters, “I miss having you in my life”.

Finally, as if your heart couldn’t take it, you look right into his eyes and he swears his knees buckle a little, despite your eyes looking a little sad, you smile gently at him, “I miss you too”.

“I never meant to say all those things, god Y/N, if I could go back in time” he closes his eyes. You pull on his shirt, pulling him between your legs as you hug him.

“Well you can’t,” you muffle in his chest as his arms tighten around you, “but, you can make it up to me?”.

You feel him nod as he not so sneakily sniffs your scent, “you can take Yeji out tomorrow, spend some quality time with her. She’s worried about you Kook, she needs her brother, she needs just a little bit of your time”.

He hugs you tighter, kissing your head, “I promise I will”.

You pull away, smiling gently at him as you peck his cheek, “good”.

You don’t know wether it was the buzz from the whiskey and alcohol infused chocolates, but whatever it was, it made your eyes drop to his lips. God he looked so good, hair messy and his sleeve on display. Fuck was he beautiful.

Almost like he could smell your slightly horny phase, he leans in deeper, eyes darkened a deep shade and his hand innocently laid on your waist, “you ok?” He asks.

Asshole, “yeah” your voice came out a little breathy within your whisper, and your entire aura soaked Jungkook in shudders. The way you were sat, legs spread to accommodate him between them, white shirt doing absolutely nothing to cover your perky pierced nipples.

He couldn’t take it anymore, and neither could you.

Looking into his eyes, your lips separated, inviting him in as your noses ever so gently brushed against each other, his hooded gaze solemnly fixated on your lips, and yours on his eyes, “what are you doing to me y/n” his voice husky, whispering in your ear.

“Kiss me Jungkook” your breathing got heavier and so has his, and he shook his head gently, scoffing in denial as your lips brushed past each other.

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck,” you gasped, as he licked your earlobe, what a fucking tease, “yes Jungkook”.

Not wasting anymore time he attached his lips on yours, moving them in rhythm as he basically abused the flesh, barely giving you any time to catch your breath as he switched his head from side to side, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in closer, you could feel yourself growing wet, soaking your panties as you grabbed onto his shirt, nails digging into his skin as your hands travelled to his back, within pulling each other closer neither of you realised how close you have gotten, too immersed in the smacking of your lips as your core rubbed against his, hard and poking through his tracksuits.

You moaned right into his mouth and he swallowed it up, fuck he’d do anything for you. He’s dreamt of feeling your lips on his for years. His mouth travelled from your swollen lips to your neck, “fuck take my shirt of Kook”.

He could nut right there as you gave him all these orders, but he listened, slipping your shirt off to find your perky tits so ready for his mouth, he laid you back against the cool counter his mouth never giving up his abuse on your skin, marking nipping anywhere possible but the neck, he couldn’t be bothered to explain to his sister. He sucked bruises onto your boobs, hearing your quiet moans as he took one nipple into his mouth, twirling the pink nub with his tongue, before moving onto the other, but not before biting each nipple gently, the cold that was left on your nipples after his warm mouth worked you up even more as he trailed his kisses down your stomach, to your hips, once again sucking biting and bruising, fuck he loved your skin.

“Take your shirt of” you mumble quietly, taking your tits in your hands and rubbing the nipples in small circles, fuck he did not expect to ever see you like this. Sprawled out on his kitchen island, hands on your boobs and your panties sporting a wet patch on your clothed pussy telling him just how turned on your are right now. Shit.

His mouth latched onto your thighs before moving onto your clothes pussy, smothering his face in the warmth of it as you gasped quite loudly, smacking your hand on your mouth to keep quiet. Fuck. His tongue ran a strip from the bottom to the top, the fact that the only material keeping his tongue from touching you directly was your underwear was driving you insane.

“Kook fuck me already”

“I don’t have a condom” he said against you.

“Fuck im clean and on the pill”

“I’m clean too”

Without any more words, he helped you up, taking your panties to the side and taking his grey sweats down his legs. Fuck. His dick was hot, long and thick, tip red and oozing precum.

Fucking hell.

He ran his tip up and down your pussy, collecting your arousal before he eased gently inside you. Letting you adjust to him. You could feel him everywhere, his throbbing tip kissing your cervix as he bottomed out. And fuck were you so full, so deliciously full of him. With the way you relaxed he knew you were ready, slowly and carefully moving in and out, his hand found purchase on your shoulder, pushing you down gently as he watched the way your tits bounced slowly.

The way you moaned so quietly and the way your chest heaved, fuck you were absolutely ravishing to watch. Your skin was marked by his lips everywhere, stomach littered in bruises, hips and tits too, everywhere but your neck and it looked so inviting right now, begging for him to give it the same attention, and before he could think straight, he went for it, nipping at the skin of your neck as his body leaned fully into yours, before you could even take a breath he picked up the pace, smacking his hips lewdly into yours, his balls slapping of your ass as the noise bounced around the room. The sound your lips made as your lips connected once again adding to the mix.

It was hot, it was wet and it was loud. But it felt amazing, it felt too good to stop. The way he ramming into, hitting all the right spots as you mewled underneath him, the knot in your stomach tightening at the feel of his tip abusing your cervix, but before you could release he sat you up, edging your ass to almost be off the counter before he gripped onto it and hammered himself into you, the only rational part of you hid your face in his neck, moaning as he fucked right into you, he tugged onto your hair as he leaned his forehead into yours, both of you watching the way his dick disappeared into your swollen cunt, and then it hit you, like a ton of bricks, you clenched around him, your legs twitching slightly as you came around him, your orgasm hurting in all the right ways like if you were electrocuted, you could feel it from your toes to your head.

He was close behind, his hips stilling as his dick throbbed, twitching the slightest bit before he coated your walls white. Leaning against your palms on the counter you tried catching your breath again, and before you could say anything, he was on his knees, his mouth latching onto your clit as you yelped, sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“Kook I can’t”

“Yes you can baby,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by your pussy, “for me”

Groaning you gasped as he sucked onto your clit, twirling your sensitive nub with his tongue as he eased his finger into you, hooking it up and fucking you slowly.

The mix of mouth and finger was intoxicating the way he was making out with your pussy was sinful but you couldn’t get enough, especially not when your legs shook, your eyes teared up and his hands soothed your legs, he switched his finger and tongue, fucking you slowly with his warm tongue and drawing figure eights onto your clit and fuck you couldn’t take it.

Slapping down your hand on the counter you moaned his name as you came for the second time this night, legs shaking and chest heaving as he stood up, kissing your lower belly before he grinned above you.

“What do you say for round three in the bathroom?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A/N: part three? I mean they haven’t resolved much except for some steamy sex? 🤭

MASTERLIST

NO REPOSTING, EDITING, TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF ANY OF MY WORKS!

[agent-grey-fics]

Being a Gallagher-Milkovich | Mickey & Ian dads x reader

Summary: @beth-gallagher22 requested a cute reader x dads fic.  Y/n is Mickey’s and Ian’s adoptive daughter, the oldest of their three kids. She sneaks out one night to go to a party after she's been told not to go by her dads. Her dads find out and go get her. Can Mickey keep his cool when he finds his kid drunk, hooking up with some guy? Wordcount 2400 Warnings: non AN: struggled a bit with the ending but I hope you liked it! xoxo Lexi Mickey = Dad Ian = Papa

No. You were expecting the answer but somehow you still hoped that your dads had said yes, they had a notorious partying-past themselves so you thought that you might have a small chance. You gave your dad the biggest puppy eyes you had in one last effort to get what you wanted. 'No y/n you heard papa you're not going to Eliza's tonight, end of discussion.' You groaned and threw your arms frustrated in the air. 'You just don't understand how important this party is, I'll be the only one who won't be there. They'll think I'm a loser.' Mickey snorted. 'You're a Gallagher-Milkovich you'll never be a loser, doll.'  You stormed past them and stomped up the stairs. 'She'll understand one day.' Ian mumbled to Mickey when he wrapped his arms around him from behind while they were standing in the kitchen. 'Yeah, but she'll hate us for quite some time because we want to keep her safe, that's not fair.' Ian chuckled as he saw the frustration on his husband's face. 'As you said, she's a Gallagher-Milkovich, she'll be fine.'

The bedroom door slammed close behind you and you threw yourself on the bed as you left out a frustrating groan. They just didn't get it. Literally, everyone was going even Gemma Garrety from the fucking Northside. You were going, no matter what your dads were saying. You got up from your bed and went through your closet, searching for the perfect dress. Last month papa had given you shopping money for the upcoming summer. Instead of buying a couple of outfits you just went for a beautiful, black dress that showed way too much skin but it was perfect for a heated summer at the Southside of town. You took the dress off the hanger and laid it out on your bed. It was perfect for the party. You grabbed your makeup bag from your bedside table and set up an improvised makeup station, laying everything you needed out in front of you on your desk. Brett Greendale was going to be there so you wanted to look absolutely fire. After you had curled your hair in soft waves you pinned it back so you could start on your makeup. You went for a subtle eye look but went for dark, red lips. When you were done with your makeup you put your bathrobe on and got in your bed so you could pretend you were sleeping as your dads would come to check on you when they went to bed themselves at eleven. So you just waited.

As you predicted your dad popped his head in something after eleven. He lingered in the doorway for a minute or two, looking at his sweet angel with a loving smile on his lips. He and Ian were so happy when they got the news from the adoption agency that they were approved and were eligible to adopt. They got a call in the middle of the night, that they needed to rush to the hospital to be present during your birth and before they knew it they were holding you in their arms, you were sweet as a pea and making them a family of three. That was already sixteen years ago, time had flown by.  Mickey stepped back into the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind him. That was your queue. You sat straight up in your bed listening to the sound of their bedroom door falling into the lock. It took them normally ten minutes to fall asleep so you waited patiently. When it was a quarter past eleven there wasn't a sound to hear and you walked over to your window on your tippy-toes. You had done this before, it wasn't your first rodeo. Your room was on the first floor but you could make the jump easily without hurting yourself if you took off your heels.  So you did, you threw your shoes, bag and keys out first and followed in a swift movement after landing on your feet in the grass. You slipt your heels on and started walking in the direction of Eliza's place, this night was going to be epic.

A couple of hours had passed and you couldn't remember if this was your sixth or seventh drink, who cared anyway. You had spent the night dancing with some friends in Eliza's living room before Brett had swooped in, stealing you from your girls. The two had chatted for some time in the kitchen, he had made some stupid joke and you pretended that he was the funniest guy on the planet. He wasn't, he was far from being funny but you thought that pretending would play in your luck so you laughed. After some time he pulled you in by your waist so there was no room left between the two of you. He gave you a boyish grin before he leaned in and places a kiss on your lips. They were softer than you had imagined. You grabbed the hem of his shirt with one hand and steadied yourself by placing the other on his waist. You didn't care about anyone else in the room, they could watch all they want. After a minute or two, he leaned back and you almost started frowning when he did but then you realised what he was doing. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he grabbed your hand, dragging you along the stairs. You could hear some of his friends cheering on him as the two of you reached the top, disappearing into one of the empty bedrooms.  You didn't have much time to think as he started to tuck on his own shirt, taking it off and throwing it on the ground. You kicked off your heels and stood awkwardly in front of him, not a hundred percent sure about your next move. You might be a Gallagher-Milkovich but this was actually the first time you went this far with a guy. Okay, you had given a blowie once or twice but that was it. You promised yourself that you would only go all the way with a guy you truly liked and you did. Brett could be an asshole sometimes but he could also be sweet and treated you like a princess. He was the right one. He softly ran his arms from your shoulders to your hands and gave them a soft squeeze. 'You sure about this?' All you could do was nod in agreement. 'You need to say it.' It was probably the alcohol in you that was speaking but you really wanted to do this. You placed your hands around his neck and pulled him closer to you. 'Are you going to fuck me or what?'  That was enough for him. Whit one firm push he had you laying on your back on the bed and a giggle left your mouth. He crawled towards you and placed one knee on either side of your body, hovering above your face. 'Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?' You shook your head whiles biting on your bottom lip. 'Damn, y/n you look really pretty tonight and that dress, fiew.' He whistled. 'Smoking hot.'

The only thing that you didn't know was while you and Brett were getting cosy upstairs your dad was about to march into the party. He was furious. 'Hun, please think this through. Okay, she disobeyed our request but do you really need to pull her out tonight? You can yell at her in the morning. She will feel so embarrassed if you do this.' Ian did his best to calm Mickey down but it was a lost cost. Mickey was going to get you, even if he had to throw you over his shoulder. 'Ian, you can stay in the car or you can walk in whit me, making sure that I don't beat up a fucking kid okay?' He grabbed the steering wheel, his knuckles turning withe as he did. 'Yeah yeah, let's go then.'  The two of them walked up the front door and as they entered everyone looked at them in confusion. Mickey's eyes went over every person in the room but he didn't see you anywhere so he turned to your best friend instead. 'Eliza, where is she?' She didn't say a word only pointed towards the stairs with her finger, almost shaking. She knew you were in big trouble.  Mickey only needed a second to understand what she meant and raced towards the stair, going up two steps at a time. Ian followed, but he first apologized to Eliza for barging in and causing a scene.

Before Brett could take off your dress the door swung wide open. 'What the fuck dude?' Brett asked as he turned his face towards the door. 'Get your shittie little hands off my daughter you piece of shit.' Brett didn't even get the time to stumble out of bed, no. Your dad pulled him towards him by his ankles and then threw him against the wall. 'Dad, no stop!' You screamed as you saw the scene in front of you. 'Dad stop, you are hurting him. Let go of him!' Your dad's eyes were spitting fire. 'Mickey, let go of the fucking kid. Y/n, get your stuff and go wait in the car. Now!' Your papa walked over to your dad and yanked him off of Brett before he could hurt him. 'If I ever see you near my daughter again, you're a dead man. 'Ye- yes.' 'Yes who?' 'Yes Mr. Milkovich'  Your cheeks were burning red as you stormed down the stairs, you couldn't leave the house as quick as possible. What were they thinking? You're a Gallagher-Milkovich, no one will think you're a loser. Bull shit. Whose parents came to drag their kids home from parties? Let alone out of a room right before they were going to get laid? Assholes. You were the mega loser now. President of losertown.  Ian succeded in dragging Mickey downstairs with him, leaving the poor boy in the bedroom. 'You're a dead man walking Greendale.' Mickey yelled over his shoulder as he went with a hand through his black hair.  'Get your ass in the fucking car!' Ian yelled at his husband while he stopped in front of Eliza. 'Honey, I am so sorry for all of this but you know Mickey, y/n is his world and he would do everything for her. I'm so so sorry. Just come over by our place tomorrow okay? I'll make it up to you by making your favourite, homemade pizzas.' He placed a hand on her shoulder while he spoke. 'All good Mr. G, just don't be too harsh on her, please? I begged her to come.' Ian chuckled softly. 'I'll see what I can do.'

The drive home was a silent one. It was a bit scary because you knew that your dad could lash out any second. You did your best to keep your thoughts straight and coherent but the alcohol in your system made it difficult for you to think clearly. 'Dad?' He didn't respond and your papa threw you a soft smile as he turned his head towards you. 'Let's talk when we get home sweety.'  You shifted uncomfortably in your seat at those words. You were going to get grounded until you were thirty, you could feel it. 'Okay.'

There you were, sitting whit tears in your eyes at the kitchen table while your two dads were sitting opposite of you. 'Y/n, we told you no so why did you go?' It was your papa who was speaking while your dead was looking angry at you, arms crossed over his chest. 'I-I was the only one who wasn't going.' A tear slipt down your face as you tried to reason your decision. 'This is bullshit y/n, your papa told you not to go and you went anyway and for what? Some boy?' Your dad snapped at you as he slammed his hand on the table. It made your papa give him an angry look. 'I'm sorry dad, I know that I've been stupid.' You wiped away your tears with the back of your hands.  'He's not just some boy, I-I really like him and he's into me and it was a perfect night until you barged in.' Your dad grabbed his head with both his hands, softly pulling at his hair as he heard your words. Mickey made a vow in his head he was going to hurt any guy that would come close to you. 'Doll, you are sixteen. You have all the time in the world to find a guy that loves you. There is no need to rush it with the first Southsider you see.' You shook your head in disbelief, it wasn't like that you really liked the guy maybe even loved him. 'I love him, dad. It was stupid of me to sneak out after you told me I know but I had to see him.' Tears started welling up in your eyes again, troubling your view. 'Honey, you know how we do things around here. Mutual respect and no secrets. You broke both rules, how do you think we feel now?' It was your papa who said those words and this was worse than them being mad. They were disappointed in you. 'I'm a disappointment, I know.' Your dead reached over the table holding out his hand for you to grab. 'You are not a disappointment y/n. Yes we are disappointed right now but that doesn't mean that you're a disappointment sweetie. You are a great kid and we love you very much.' You slipped your hand in his and he gave you a soft squeeze. Mickey promised himself that he would be better than his father and father-in-law. From the first moment he saw you he promised to keep you safe and make you feel loved and wanted. He was overprotective from the first day, Ian had to step in hundreds of times to make sure that he didn't punch anyone in the face that looked longer than five seconds at you. You were is god damn world. 'No more secrets.' Your dad mumbled as he stroked your hands with his thumbs.

'No more secrets dad.'

[etsuven]

rating: fluff cw: small spoilers for scara's weapon includes: sort of a creator au, me subtly putting in my small hatred for the widsith as i literally get it every other four star pull i swear i have like 8 of them summary: after saving for so long, you were finally able to spoil the person you were waiting for...

note: HIIII! it's been a little bit since my last posttt! i wasn't kidding when i said i was lowkey becoming obsessed with scara. i had this idea in my head for a few days now and i've just now gotten to writing this. also i'm not using his namecard until he releases because it's kind of a spoiler and even i haven't even looked at it yet. btw, are you guys going to call scara by his original name or wanderer? i'm planning on just going with scara as that's just what i'm used to- uhhh i'm rambling now onto the fic!!!

one ten pull. two ten pulls. yet another widsith in another pull.

you sighed softly, looking at the countless intertwined fates in your hands. you weren't too worried about not getting scaramouche, or 'wanderer' as he was called now- as you had been saving up for quite a bit now. closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath, silently pleading for him to finally appear.

grabbing ten of the fates in your hand, you threw them into the air, watching as they disappeared into multicolored particles before reappearing in the sky. the blue streaks zoomed through the sky, racing through the clouds before one finally pulled ahead.

the light it emanated was small at first, before finally erupting into a bright gold light. your heart began to pound in your chest, your foot stepping forward as you watched the light slowly fall to the ground in front of you. the light began to form into a humanoid shape, and your eyes began to widen once you finally realized who it was.

scaramouche.

you watched him open his eyes, only for him to squint when the overwhelming gold light hit him. once it was gone, he opened them once more, his gaze falling on your body. he finally started to connect the dots as he took note of the various pink and blue colored gems in your hand.

'weren't you... the creator?' scaramouche thought. 'the creator of the world he became so accustomed to? why did you summon someone like... him?' never mind that, he had to say something before you noticed his falling façade.

"well, of course the creator would be the one to pull for me!" he spoke, a cocky tone evident in his voice. he placed his fingertips on the brim of his hat, now changed due to the designs the higher ups made for him. "as the best person available, i'm honored to be- wait, why are you looking at me like that?"

your arms were now outstretched, and you had begun walking towards him. scaramouche's 'heart' began to pound in his chest, and he found himself unconsciously stepping backwards. you paused a bit, hesitating slightly as you began to speak.

"can i hug you?"

scara felt his face heat up rapidly, causing him to look away as he feared you would see how red his face had probably gotten. while he was embarrassed, he had to admit that a hug from the creator of all people sounded quite nice... with a small nod, he held his arms out slightly in front of him, flinching a bit as you raced towards him.

your arms snaked around him, pulling him in an embrace he never thought he'd be able to feel. you were warm, really warm, and there was a sort of comforting aura around you that made him want to bury his face in your neck in an attempt to stay there forever (plus you smelled nice, but you wouldn't catch him admitting that out loud.)

you pulled away a few seconds later, keeping your hands on him and breathing in softly as you took him in. he looked even better in front of you than in the pictures, and now that you could finally give him what he deserved...

wait, his materials!

"i've got some stuff for you!" you exclaimed. tossing the fates on the ground, you pulled out a bag from seemingly nowhere, pulling out materials that scara had seen you give to many beforehand. colorful chunks of crystal, multiple stacks of books, and oh so many boss and common enemy materials- just how many had you killed for him?

scara's glanced at all of the materials, feeling slightly overwhelmed. all of those were him? him only? you had done all of this... for him? before he had gotten the chance to speak, you grabbed all the items in your arms, standing in front of him as you tried not to show how much you were struggling.

"close your eyes!" and unable to disobey you (just yet) he closed his eyes. you mumbled a few words, and scara peaked an eye open to see all of the materials rushing into his body. streaks of grey, green, blue, purple, and even a bit of gold rushed into his chest. and even though he hadn't even done anything yet, he began to feel more powerful.

he looked at you in awe, almost wanting to cry at how proud of him you looked. he just couldn't get over the fact that you had done so much for him, even though this was his first time properly meeting you face to face.

"i- thank you, creator..." he spoke softly, averting his gaze out of shyness. he felt your hand go up to his cheek, caressing the adorably chubby flesh with a small smile.

"(y/n) is fine!" you laughed, patting his cheek softly before pulling away. grabbing at your bag. "we'll be partners for a while after this, okay! it'll be weird if you continued to call me 'creator.'"

scara nodded, flushing slightly at the mention of being 'partners.' obviously you didn't mean it in that way, but he couldn't help but let his mind wander. it didn't help that you were quite attractive as well. he slapped at his cheeks. what was he doing, being all sappy like this. he wasn't normally like this, what about you made him change his personality all of a sudden?!

he watched curiously as you pulled a few of those pink and purple gems out of your bag, throwing them into the sky. they disappeared, and blue streaks zipped through the sky, one pulling forward and turning into a purple light. a few weapons fell into your hands, and you huffed angrily at one called "the widsith."

a few more pulls went by, and a frustrated- yet still quite cute- look began to show itself on your face. you threw another handful into the air, and it did the same thing it did on your other wishes, yet this time the furthest ahead fate began to turn into a bright gold color, similar to the one he was enveloped in when he first descended from the sky.

you began to bounce on your toes, holding your hands out as a few weapons began to appear. a few swords, books, a stray debate club or two, when finally a weapon encased in gold fell into your grasp. it was a bell.

holding in your excitement, you closed your eyes, muttering the same words you had said to scaramouche to the weapon. multiple colors began to rush into it, and at some point it had even begun to glow a different color. once it was done, you faced scara.

taking his hand in yours, you gave him the weapon, giving him a sweet smile as you spoke a few words he swore he would never forget.

"welcome home, scara."

[dracowars]

hiii, do you take requests for luke skywalker? if you do, could i get a luke and reader fic where shes a jedi too and his close friend? she gets jealous and insecure when he starts to show interest in someone else (can be leia or someone else idm) and slowly starts distancing herself away and one day she gets hurt saving him and she thinks shes gna die so she confesses? when she wakes up she apologises and happy ending please??? Thanks!!

i'm not her | luke skywalker

pairing: luke x jedi!reader

word count: 2,1k

summary: where y/n thinks that luke is in love with someone else

a/n: i’m literally so clueless about legends, but i kind of know who mara jade is? i think? that’s why i thought it would be a nice idea to add her?? idk, don’t quote me on this lmao all i know is she has a cool purple lightsaber! thank you so much for this request, it's my first for luke <3

warnings: angst, violence, attempted murder, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, mentions of death

universe: star wars

„You have been talking about her a lot lately, kid”, Han suddenly says out loud what everyone in the room was already thinking. A new day, a new plan to overthrow the Empire. You are in the process of developing a new tactic – in this case, you consists of General Organa, notorious pilot Han Solo and his faithful companion Chewbacca, as well as Luke Skywalker and yourself – when Luke cannot resist to bring Mara Jade into play again.

Mara Jade, the Emperor’s hand, who unscrupulously completes even the most brutal of orders from her master, is by no means to be underestimated and definitely has to be seen as a threat to the rebellion. However, she is not worth having a certain someone obsess over her that much. Ever since you have known of her existence, and by the way have crossed her path and fought her several times – Luke and you, side by side – he just cannot seem to stop mentioning her at every opportunity. He is almost enthusiastic about her and her abilities. That this unnatural obsession even catches Han’s attention has to mean something.

And the fact that Luke’s cheeks take on a light shade of red as he apparently feels caught by Han’s words only confirms all of this. The certainty you now have hurts.

The last few Jedi that still roam this galaxy are rarely encountered, and you still cannot quite understand how lucky you were to accidentally meet one of them, if not the best of them. There were times where you had to fend for yourself, you were not allowed to make any mistakes, or they would have caught on to you immediately. But suddenly you had a family, you were part of something much bigger.

Nobody can understand and relate to you better than Luke. Even though he did not know what he was destined to do from birth, you two have gone through similarly difficult times and it is nice to know that you no longer have to face the critical times ahead alone. The bond you built is based on mutual trust and respect. But the more you trained together, the more you got to know the many facets of the Force together, the more this bond of friendship became something else, something deeper.

Apparently, this feeling was only one-sided.

“I am just saying we need to keep an eye on her. She is a threat to-”

“So am I”, Han replies knowingly, arms crossed in front of his chest to underline his statement while starting a staring contest with Luke.

“Listen, we are doing it exactly the way we planned. If Jade crosses your path, well, it wouldn’t be the first time”, Leia intervenes softly, preventing the conversation from escalating any further. Neither Luke nor Han object to this suggestion, so Leia presents a short version of the plan as a wrap-up. The slight pain you feel in your heart is not noticed by anyone.

════════════

Actually, the plan was quite simple: get into the Imperial outpost unnoticed and get the information that a contact, a spy in the ranks of the Empire, hands you over. Unfortunately, the plan did not go as planned and you may not have gone quite as unnoticed as you would have liked. That violet lightsaber just appeared right in front of you, nobody could have really expected that.

Without hesitation, Luke and you draw your lightsabers, which flash green and blue in front of you as you position yourself in a suitable fighting stance, facing her. Your opponent nonchalantly twirls a strand of her red hair around her finger as she waits for the both of you to get ready. A satisfying grin curls her lips as her gaze shifts from you to Luke and lingers there.

“It has been a while”, Mara smiles, and if you did not know how ruthless this woman really is, you could almost have believed that she smiled genuinely friendly. But who are you trying to fool, this woman is the personified evil and finally must be defeated once and for all. Luke and you have already failed once, you are not going to let that happen a second time.

“It’s always nice to meet you”, Luke greets her, also giving her a smile, although you are pretty sure his is truly genuine. Another stab to your poor heart, but you try to focus on the battle ahead, tightening your grip on your lightsaber hilt which feels extremely heavy this time. She certainly will not win this time.

“I just wish our paths wouldn’t only cross when you’re about to rob the Empire”, Mara mentions amused, but at the same time her voice suddenly does not sound as friendly anymore as it did only mere seconds ago. However, the wink she gives Luke at the end of her sentence strongly suggests that she is actually flirting with him. Here. In the middle of an Imperial outpost. In front of you.

“When you two are done, I would really like to leave”, you interject now with a roll of your eyes, and even though you see Luke move his hand ever so slightly in the corner of your eye, holding it in front of you unnoticedly as if he wants to indicate that you should wait, you plainly ignore it. With quick steps you are right in front of Mara Jade and your lightsabers blaze with a bright white light as they meet. Luke, now forced to attack as well because of your attack, appears next to you and Mara uses the Force to knock you back a few meters through the air so that she only has to deal with Luke, at least for one moment.

“I should coach you soon, your tactics are ridiculous”, she mentions between movements, before you manage to get to your feet again and rejoin the fight. You are two against one and yet she has the audacity to make fun of your fighting style.

“No, but no thank you”, you answer promptly and although you are now fighting her at the same time, she does not seem to mind at all. The dark side of the Force that completely surrounds her seems to give her so much power that she can easily take on both of you. Every time you think you are about to wound her with your glowing blade, she finds another way to prevent you from actually doing so. Luke’s green lightsaber spins around and meets her purple blade at the same instant as yours. Together you try to bring her down, but she suddenly lets herself sink on one knee and pulls Luke’s legs away with her other leg, causing him to fall to the ground with a loud thud. With a quick flick of her wrist, her lightsaber is dangerously close to you all of a sudden, forcing you to take a few steps back.

Mara uses this to her advantage, getting you into trouble when your back hits the wall behind you, disarming you with one deft move, your lightsaber falling to the ground, the blue light disappearing. Holding the violet blade directly in front of your face, you only now realize how difficult it is to breathe. However, you do not have much time to think about your rapid breathing when she raises her other arm, lifting Luke, who was just about to rush to your aid, off the ground. Groaning and gasping for air, his saber falls to the ground as well, and he instinctively grabs his throat with his hands, as if by doing so he could keep her from fully blocking his airpipe.

Watching Luke’s skin grow pale, your gaze wanders, frantically searching for a way out. With a deadly blade at your own throat, it is not easy to focus properly, but you understand that the only way out is to take risks. If you do not risk it, she will kill him for sure.

Without thinking about it another second, scared that you might regret your decision, you reach into the air and use the Force to pull Luke’s lightsaber towards you, immediately igniting it and catching Mara Jade off guard. In distress, she lets go of Luke to put her saber between you in the last moment, preventing you from piercing her with the green blade. Breathing heavily, you push against her strength while keeping an eye on Luke, who is desperately gasping for air on the floor. His miserable state gives you the power to disarm Mara Jade with one swift movement, her lightsaber rolling over the floor to Luke’s side.

However, when blaster shots suddenly echo around the walls the next moment, distracting your attention for the split of a second, and you see Han and Chewbacca escaping with the needed information, you only feel the excruciating pain as a vibroblade disappears into your abdomen. Immediately, you fall over, screaming in pain. Tears uncontrollably stream down your cheeks, and you put one trembling hand over your bleeding wound while you reach for the lightsaber with the other, but to no avail. You cannot reach the Force, it is as if nothing is left of it around you.

Looking up at Mara Jade, her evil glittering eyes are fixed on only you, a murderous lust in her eyes that makes you shudder.

Before she can severely hurt you even more, however, she is suddenly pushed away from you and against the wall, the impact jerking through her entire body. Trying to control your rapid breath, you watch as Luke approaches her with your blue lightsaber after she regained her balance, now clearly enraged. Luke, on the other hand, now has an aura around him that you cannot quite grasp and maybe you are just imagining it, the pain clouding your senses, but he suddenly seems different, more dangerous than ever. He dodges Mara’s attacks with ease and throws her through the air like she is nothing, the vein in his neck throbbing with anger.

The pain that keeps spreading from your wound through your whole body makes it extremely difficult for you to follow the fight as you try to somehow stop the excessive bleeding. That is why you do not understand why Luke suddenly bends over your trembling figure, carefully placing your head on his thigh.

“Luke, watch out, J-Jade-”, you stutter out, tears blocking your vision and pain clouding your mind.

“Sshh.. She can’t hurt you anymore”, Luke whispers to you, one of his hands on your cheek while the other lifts your own from your wound, before placing his own on top of it. He maintains eye contact with you and orders you to keep your eyes open, but he keeps looking down for a short amount of time, presumably assessing how bad your injury is. The pain you endure during this is unbearable and it feels like she severed your entire lower body. Your pupils no longer focus properly on your surroundings and all you feel is pain.

“I’ll pick you up carefully, alright? I’ll be very careful-”

“L-Luke, wait”, you stop him and grab his hand with your remaining strength so he cannot get on his feet to pick you up. If this is the end, then you cannot leave this galaxy until he knows how you truly feel. You would never forgive yourself. Just for once you want to know how it feels to say the words out loud.

“I love you”, you choke out, the words somehow rolling off your tongue, and for that brief moment when you look him straight in the eyes, you see clearly, and the pain goes away.

“You idiot! Stop saying stuff like that!? Save your strength and-”

“B-But-”

“I want you to tell me that again when you’re feeling well, are you listening?!”, Luke calls out to you from afar, his words ringing in your head as you feel a gentle shake on your body. “I love you too, Y/N. Promise me you’ll hold out long enough so I can tell you a lot more how much I actually love you.”

Closing your eyes with a soft smile on your lips, his words fade from your mind and the world around you darkens. The next time you open them, your head is pounding and the constant annoying beeping of one of the medical devices does not help at all. Just as you are about to get upset, you feel a weight on your right hand and your heart melts as you look over.

Luke’s head is on your hospital bed, his eyes closed, his breath low and his hair tousled in all directions, but his hand is inseparable intertwined with yours.

He has been here the whole time, waiting for the moment he can tell you how deeply he is in love with you, how he has always been and always will be.  

[jina-juhi]

the possibility of us.

pairing - yuta × female reader

word count - 7.7k

warnings - Panic attack (i tried to keep it short) penetration, protected sex, grinding, corruption kink, yuta is not angry and dom, controlling, over stim if i can say so? oral ( both receiving ) and literally everything that comes w this. choking!!!! yea. heh.

summary - You promised yourself you wouldn't fall for him, and you thought he could never fall for a girl like you. There was no way you both could be together, and even if there was one, your past wouldn't let you.

playlist

"eyes off you" - prettymuch

"phases" - prettymuch

"under the influence" - chris brown

"slow down" - chase atlantic

"show me" - black atlass

"safety net" - ariana grande

"used to this" - camila cabello

"chills, dark version" - mickey vallen

"3:00 am" - finding hope

"no guidance" - chris brown ft drake

Authors note:- so this whole thing is someone's request and i have not done justice to it. But here i am still hoping that they like it. I wrote like a whole seed to tree thing but it all got deleted and then I just left it to where my mind led me. I swear im working hard on my English vocab and duh sentence forming skills, but i hope you get the feelings mentioned below~~~

also if u wanna like request something~

m.list

so fucking loud.

The party was getting louder and overwhelming. You were quite alright just a few seconds back but it only takes a thought, to remember everything you want so badly to escape.

You danced like crazy, and drank. A lot. To forget. And now your head is hurting like hell and you don't know what to do or where to go, everything is spinning around and its all a blur. One thing that you could think of right now is your phone.

Searching your pocket and the couch you have been sitting on for so long, you can't find it. Its not lost its with Haewon, your friend. Sadly though your friend had to leave early due to some urgency, you thought it would be okay, you would manage but truly speaking, you're just a child. You try to be brave but being left alone is one of your biggest fears.

The fear kept building up since you were a kid and now it has settled in and made itself permanent in you. First it was your dad leaving you and your mom for a second family, then your mom in chase of her new life and then your so called first love who thought you were too fucked up to be loved. Leaving you like you were a crumbled up piece of paper ready to be dumped. Since then, you have not loved.

Not because you forgot, but because you're sacred.

You're scared everyone would leave you just like them and in the end, they'll move on, they'll live better but you're gonna be wounded. Trust me, you're already wounded enough to go out there and put a knife in your chest with your own hands. You know better or so you may think. That being alone, and not letting anyone in is the key to overcome this but truly, it is just making it worse. You can't help it.

You stumble on your way out of the once filled room with sweaty bodies, heels in one hands and a bottle of water in another. Your legs hurt more with every step you take, mentally cursing yourself for going absolutely reckless. You stand leaning against the main gate, supporting yourself so you don't fall in the wait of a cab.

You watch as tired bodies pass you by one by one. Everybody having someone to lean on to, you have a door. Not complaining but it feels sad sometimes not to have that one person who's always gonna stick by your side and other deep shit. It gets lonely. Fiddling with the hem of your dress, you give up on waiting, shifting your wait from the gate to your feet, you start to walk in the direction of your home, finding it hard because of all the alcohol.

Not even two steps forward, you hear a faint voice calling your name, a voice you would recognise even after your death, a voice that could send you into overdrive in a mere millisecond. You find yourself panicking, why is he calling your name, he shouldn't be calling your name. He's supposed to be the mean guy like everybody says but he's good to you, he's supposed to be cold hearted but he's kind to you, he's supposed to ignore you like he does everybody else, but he treats you different.

Nakamoto Yuta is not supposed to know you.

But he does, and that's what got you falling for him. Hard. It began with a single look in the hallway, you were a fresher and he was in the senior year. You weren't allowed in the library back then which you didn't knew, so you went in to issue some books. A bunch of seniors saw you, scolded you for not abiding by the rules, they could have gone too far but Yuta kinda saved your ass in there. He'd been kind, which was very unlikely of him because they all called him cold-hearted, but you saw no such characters in him, he'd always been nice to you. No matter how much you refused you did had a minute crush on him since that day, which eventually turned in something you'd rather not give a name to.

You turn around to see a very familiar face, you could draw an exact replica of him with your eyes closed. You fumble, he hands are firmly griping you by your arms, holding you upright, "you okay?"

On usual days, if Yuta is taking the first floor hallway to get to his class, you'd take the third floor even if it means you'll be late by five. But on some very rare unusual day, when your hormones decide to throw random tantrums and make you realise how much dry of a pussy cat you have, you'd take the same hallway 0as he does in order to feed your brain with his mere looks alone, which would be enough for the next 5 to 6 days so you could go back on avoiding him, for the sake of your sanity.

Today, most probably was a usual day. Throughout the party, you made sure to not cross paths with him but always keeping in check as to where he was. He looked drop dead gorgeous today in that white tshirt of his, loose hair falling over his face blocking your sight of view but adding up to his perfection. Maybe, just maybe you might have been too obvious with that watching from afar game of yours you think he didn't notice but he does. He knows, he always has known. Boys like him, they always know.

"I just wanna go home." Your voice comes out tired and slurred, the alcohol in your system is probably damaging your sense of judgement, you're saying things you're not supposed to be saying.

"It isn't safe for you to go alone." His voice could make you fall to knees, yea that is the amount of power he holds on you. If he says your name one more time with that pretty mouth of his, you'd be curling into a ball and stay like that for the rest of your life because it would save you from the embarrassment of facing him with your red flushed face and needy eyes. Yes, you're a sucker for him and you don't like it. It's not about him it's about you. How could you risk everything again for just a crush. He's not just a crush. And what about the too fucked to be loved part? What if thats true? You can't risk losing Yuta.

"I'll tak- a cab or somethin you don't have to." Sitting in the same car, having him around you when you're drunk and could literally say anything is not a safe option, safer than going alone though but, it's just too much of a risk. He doesn't give you much choice when he says he's gonna drive you home and you're gonna be quite and let him. All those moments in which it was only him and you alone, all the amount of tension in the air there was is playing on repeat in your mind right now. What could possibly go wrong right? Nothing really went wrong before, but you also weren't drunk.

He takes you to his car, walking beside you still holding you tight. You didn't say but your stomach keeps hurting from time to time, probably from all the drinking you think. Opening the door for you he seats you in, placing his hand on your head carefully so you don't bump your head in the process.

You wait for him to come inside the car, hearts already beating fast. Don't know why but the alcohol has somehow made you more hornier and confident than before, especially him touching you played a major part it in. I mean your allowed to have a crush right, and even though you don't really want someone in your life right now you too want some, need some. How many days can you go without being touched? is two year a normal number?

"Put your seatbelts on." You were too disoriented to understand and implement, he repeats. "Oh!" You try to pull the seatbelt down, its stuck. Or maybe you're just weak. He notices you struggling. What happens next is not the first time, he does things like these often that do some unexplainable things to you. He would randomly place his hands on your shoulder in the middle of nowhere making you jump out of your skin, or rub his thumb against the back of your hand when you're having coffee with him. Play with the long strands of your hair, tangling then detangling them. Eyes contacts were definitely his thing, he's eyes would never leave yours during a conversation no matter how small or big, it made you hard to look at him and hold his gaze. These were some of those moments you couldn't get over even after trying hard.

This guy would be the cause of your death. All happens in one sudden move, he loosens his seatbelt, leaning over you extending his hand to reach the seatbelt that seemed to be really stuck, which he could have managed to pull from afar but no, he had to come close. Goosebumps from his wild eyes form on your skin when they watch you, like undressing you. Up and down and around. Biting and wetting his lips unnecessarily just to turn you on. You, on the other went stiff, for you it was like some one had pushed the pause button because every second felt so heavy, the weight of his gaze was so hard you felt your lungs crushing under the pressure. You could literally listen to your heart thumping in your ears like some one was playing a boombox on maximum volume. Afraid to take your eyes off of him, you just stare blankly at him, though that blank expression was more of a wanting one.

He knows what he's doing, the little curl on his lips showed that, and he knows the effect it has on you so he always over exaggerates everything that he does. You never stopping him is his motivation.

"Dumb girl" he mouths and secures your seatbelt. You gulp hard and release the breath you were holding in. Before you could register what had just happened, his hand was reaching for your forehead with a tissue. "You sure you good? you sweating like crazy!" poking his tongue he hands you the napkin, you pretend wipe your face, actually cursing him making you sweat like this. The ac is not broken, its his fault.

Its so fucking complicated it's like you've got this big crush which isn't even a crush anymore, and it is him who turned it into real damn feelings that you don't want. You know you're better off without him, without the feelings part. You're not ready for him. You'll never be. You know it still you always fall for him, even when you don't want to, even when you know someone's gonna get hurt in the end. It must be something that he said that got you off track. That got you thinking shit and feeling shit, you just can't ignore that anymore. A year is a long time to pretend that you absolutely do not adore Yuta. Its getting harder to pretend.

You crave him.

You need him.

You want him.

but no.

You're saying it as if he wants you too. The possibility of him falling for you is as rare as finding a galaxy in the night sky with naked eyes. Impossible. He's got high standards or maybe you're just not his type. He may play round and about but it's just a play. Not reality. And you've come to peace with that. You're not gonna try, you're not putting your heart at stake but if you do, just in case, there's no way you're gonna have your heart broken because after doing all the math and physics, the probable occurrence of this event called 'us' is zero, even after considering all the factors affecting.

There is a chance, but you wouldn't take it.

But even the greatest of the greatest laws have exceptions, don't they? Not everything can be calculated or predecided. Now who knew a day like today would come in which the drunk you would be driven home by a totally sober Yuta, and the very science that you thought was denying the possibility of you both being together is giving you an unforeseen factor that could change the whole equation, alchol. And alcohol, as we all know is a bitch.

Miserable looking you was sat on the passenger seat, hair tousled, body covered with sweat that glistened whenever light fell on it, lips dry and eyes tired. Though the heat you feel is undeniable, you try to not give in and have some sense of control over your mind that's floating in the pool of hormones mixed with alcohol right now. Pushing your hair back, you look out of the window, chasing the street lamps, counting them to keep you distracted. Clearing your mind, trying not to think anything. Not to feel anything, but the ache in the pit of your abdomen is growing with passing time. You see yuta roll down the window, his hair swiftly swaying with the breeze, what a sight to be witnessed, enough to distract you from your chosen distraction. Allowing yourself to calm down letting go of all the blood rush from before, you take a deep breath, sleep kind of taking over your body but the pain isn't allowing you to. Feeling even more uneasy, you shift a little in your seat pushing the feeling away. You try and concentrate on the moving landscapes, breathing deeply.

Yuta has been noticing you. Hes certain of what's bout to happen. He doesn't panic, he must have had the experience. He lets you take your time. Breathing helps for some time more, but doesn't prevent it. You have to throw up, "Can y- stop the car?"

In a minute, Yuta pulls over and you're out on the street seated by the footpath trying to empty your stomach. Yuta was seated by your side patiently with a water bottle in his hand, rubbing your back in sweet circular motion, and holding your hair back. "It doesn't wanna come out!"

You complain in a broken tone. "Who told you to drink that much when you can't handle it?" he says side eyeing you.

"It's hurting"

"Drink some water" And before you could, you were already throwing up. He calm you down, never once leaving your side, holding your hair back, he knows you're weak especially right now.

Cleaning up you pout, "I was feeling good"

"Now you're not, dumbass."

"Why do you always call me dumbass." you fake cry, more like dunk cry.

"Because you're too cute." He half chuckles.

"I don't wanna be cute." You snap at him. "I wanna be hot!" This makes him laugh. "And i wanna be cool and i wanna be free and i wanna be different and confident and happy and not dumb. I'm not dumb, though i like it when you call me dumb, but im not im not dumb!!"

He looks at you, amused, brows up like a puppy, smiling like a child at this new face of yours that, that he doesn't quite know how to describe it, but is adorable. "You don't talk this much when you're sober, you should drink often."

"And throw up like this every time."

"Yea maybe, it would be an our thing"

"An our thing?! Oh and i don't talk? you don't talk!"

"I don't because you don't, and i respect that."

"I- I don't? i do, i want to."

"What stops you then?" You think.

"Yuta." and you chuckle. "He makes me nervous."

His eyebrows furrowed for a second after suddenly listening to his name from your mouth. Conten and eager to know more, "Why?"

You sigh loudly, hiding your face in your hands, "It's hard to explain you know? It so fucking hard-!" by getting to the end of the sentence you actually break down into tears. Yuta sees this, suddenly extra concerned about your situation, he takes your face in his hands, cupping it, making you look at him. He has a soft expression on his face, a kind one. "hey there, don't cry, it's okay." he coos, wiping a tear away.

You sob a few times in his arms, trying to catch a breath. You don't know why and what you're saying, but it just flows out of your mouth, "I like him, i think i do, like so fuxking much. And it's sad because I don't think he likes me back, like why would he and even if he does, it's not gonna change the fact that im too fucked up to be loved."

He frowns, disappointed in you. Looking deep in your eyes, you try to hide away from him,"You're not girl. Look at me! you are capable of being loved"

"I don't think so. Even if i am, why will he ever like a girl like me!" You say blandly.

"What if he does?"

"You think he likes me?"

"All you need to do is ask."

"Why can't he!?" His hand leaves your face, wiping your fallen tears. Making you drink a little water with his hands, he slowly says, "what if he's afraid he would scare you away?"

You're tired eyes look into his bright one, searching for meanings you couldn't find. He helps you up, now that you've been feeling better than before. "Not if he holds me tight enough." Yuta doesn't reply to this rather his eyes glint, as if he was satisfied with your answer. As if he knew what to do now. He makes you seat in his care again, securing you with the seatbelt, too tired to even move your finger you let him guide you home.

Soon enough you were standing in front of your apartment, staring at the locked door and then staring at each other, "I'm sorry." you apologise because apparently, you lost the keys and no they're not with Haewon. "It's okay lets just go to my apartment." You nod your head, tip toeing behind him like a child, on the stares he lets you walk by yourself but watches out for you. In the car he gives you a bottle of electrolytes to sip on. In the lift of his apartment he practically have to carry your weight because your legs gave up walking and your brain stoped working.

_______

Wet kisses were planted down your spine, leaving a tinglish feeling behind. With every kiss your breath hitched a little more, eyes squeezed even harder. He plants a kiss at the bottom of your bare back. You arch your back, rolling your head back in pleasure. He stands up behind you, your knuckles turn whiter. He grips your hair in his fist, pushing your head back further enough to plant a small kiss on your forehead, then releasing the grip. Holding back a moan, you let a short breath out. Seeing your efforts at holding your moans back, he lands his palm flat against your clothed ass making you fall ahead on the counter. Smacking it hard again, making you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoes in his small bathroom. "Let me hear that sweet voice of yours baby." His voice calling you baby makes you dizzy, a whine leaves your lips without your permission, but on his command. Anything he wants you would do. Rubbing and groping your ass cheek he pulls you a little up by your hair, making you stand straight. He bites and nips at your earlobe. With his one hand squeezing your ass and his lips occupied by your ear, his other hands creeps it's way in front of you, dipping lower and lower until it cups your pussy, applying only slight pressure on your throbbing, untouched clit with his middle finger, just enough to take you over the edge. His hand is so big. He taps it, feather touches only. Once, twice and he continues slowly with long intervals in between the taps, leaving maroon marks on your shoulder. He only plays with you to make you wetter so you could take his dick, he's not letting you cum just yet, you deserve more, you deserve his dick and you deserve a grand climax, because you're his. Without much efforts he pushes you flat against the counter top, carefully though, he doesn't wanna hurt you. Delivering you pleasure is his only motive, and he does just that when he pulls your underwear down enough to expose your ass to him. You wiggle it a little in anticipation, and he gives in to your plea, after all it would be his pleasure to serve you. He greets you with a spank. And then another spank followed by intervals of him easing the pain and rubbing your ass cheeks untill you voice came out louder than the sound of his hand meeting your flesh. And in a blink of an eye your panty was slid all the way down and his thick girthy cock was being shoved in your already dripping aching hole. He was showing no mercy, fucking in and out of you at a demonic pace, looking like an angel! His long hair covering his face, slick because of sweat. He yanked you up with your hair causing you to scream out, still slamming in and out of you, this angle enabling him to go deeper. Sinfull voices getting louder and louder with every thrust, you hear him say your name, "y/n!" He sounds concerned. Furrowing your brows, "Yuta, don't stop!!" you whine as he slows down his pace.

Another loud call of your name forces you awake from your dream, panting heavily you adjust your vision to the lighting in the room. The first thing you see is Yutas face, concerned. Seeing him in your bedroom starled you, you hastily move back in defence, "what are you doing here" You question him in hoarse voice, your throat dry.

"It's my bedroom and you called my name. " he hands you a glass full of water, sitting by the bedside. That's when you realise the change in the intensity of light and the unfamiliarity of the duvet. Embarrassed, that you just dreamt of the guy sitting in front of you, you thank him for the water. You try to play the events of last night that might have led to this, nothing comes to your head. Its all a blank. You mind curse yourself, head hurting a little probably because of hangover. The second thing you notice is that the cloths you wore weren't yours, it was one of his black tshirts, as he owns many, and before you could look at him with an unquestionable question, "You were sober enough to change, I didn't." He answers. You relax your shoulders, sighing.

Just the very presence of him makes your head go into a never ending spiral. It was embarrassing looking like shit in front of him. You called my name, what the fuck. "Your head must be hurting?"

"Not really, I just need to take a shower." You say shaking your head confirming that you are alright.

He gets up.

You don't know what you did last night with him, or said but it feels like you pretty much fucked up in every way possible. You don't even know if the whole session was just a dream or you both actually really did something. You watch him uncover the curtains and opening the window so some fresh air could come in. He opens his cupboard taking out some pills, keeps them on the side table for you. Too busy thinking, you didn't hear whatever he said and watch him exit the room keeping a black tee on the chair.

whatever the fuck happened last night.

Taking the pills you went for a quick shower, wearing again one of his tshirt. Going in the another room, he already prepared lunch for you. You take the spoon in your hand, and it's some kind of soup. You smell it, the aroma filling you up. "You're not eating?"

"I am." he says sitting down beside you. You never knew he could cook, such a dream boy. You dip the spoon and circle it around in the bowl feeling anxious. "You talked quite a lot last night, you kno-" he bantered eyeing up playing with the spoon. Without a second thought you interjected, "What exactly did i say?" not looking at him.

"We have a lot of time to discuss that in detail, right now focus on eating." he poked, smirking. "Just tell if i said something offensive or you know, stupid I won't stay for long." Finally taking a sip of the soup while it's still hot. "Look outside, its raining." he says moving his head towards the window wanting you to look out. It indeed is raining, which means you will have to stay. 

"So now that you're staying, why not have some fun? You play video games?" he asked cheerfully.

"No." you deadpanned.

"I knew, we'll watch a movie then." You look at him blond eyes, he's goofing around again.

He made popcorns, everything was set in front of his decent sized tv. It was like he was being extra cautious about everything, thinking twice before saying or doing anything. You on the other hand were embarrassed and awkward as hell. God only knows what beans you spilled last night, the possible things you could have that are coming to your brains are extreme. Plus he's not even telling.

He kept a decent distance between you two when he sat down on his small sofa, it was a small sofa so the decent amount means close enough to feel him right next to you. The movie was playing but neither of you were paying any attention to it. If it wasn't for the presence of the other, you could have both said the rain was distracting. Already tired and even more tired after forcing yourself to concentrate on the movie when exactly you dozed off to wonderland you didn't remember. One loud roar of thunder startled you back to life, "It's okey, just a thunder, go back to sleep." His words come in a low register, whispered close to your ear his hot breath almost tingling. You shift comfortably on what felt like a lap, shooting your eyes open you realised the position you were in and quickly sat up murmuring sorrys and fucks while trying to hide yourself, "When did i sleep!?" you mumbled, rubbing your eye, in order to avoid his.

"Sleep again you look tired." he pointed out looking at you. As if it wasn't awkward enough already for you to sleep in his goddamn lap. You shake your head, "No its good." You grin at him. His eyes never leave your frame. You shift to the left putting as much distance possible in between. He notices it. "Do I make you nervous?" 

 fuck yes.

It was like the oxygen was taken away from you. You tried breathing but it was useless. So this is one of the manys of what happened last night. "I said that?" He looks at you, nodding his head lights. "And they say one doesn't lie when there drunk." raising an eyebrow. Pressing your lips together you turn your head to the tv, "Let's not talk abo-" he didn't let you finish, "Answer me." He turns off the tv causing you to frown, "Answer!" You roll your eyes looking away again, it's hard maintaining eye contact right now. "What do you wanna hear?" 

"Truth."

You look at him. For a minute nothing was spoken. You looked at him and he looked at you. And that was that. Many of the hardest one minutes of your life. You sigh out in defeat, giving up the eye game, he sits straight. "What else did i say last night?" 

"Just that." 

You laugh, "That can't possibly be true." 

"Then you already know what you might have said last night." Wetting your lips, looking out of the windows, rain pouring harder by every passing hour, things getting more and more awkward. You could either tell him everything, and expect him to not act on it and be awkward Or you can just ask him to pretend last night never happened and let everything be awkward for the rest of the lives, because theres no way things are going back to normal, as if they ever were. 

Clicking your tongue, "Will you drink hot chocolate?" The only way to avoid a conversation is a hot chocolate. It works most of the times. All you wanted to do was escape his vicinity.

You stand by the window in his small kitchen, rain drizzles over your face as it falls down, rainy seasons are gloomy, you think. Cold air rushes in leaving you cold and shivering, alone, in the middle of the darkness in this room with your thoughts which are way too louder than your capacity to hear. You don't know why but him knowing how you feel about him just complicates everything by a thousand fold. And what if he wants to be with you? What will you do then? Yes you like him but, you can't risk being in a relationship again. You've already lied to yourself everyday by believing that you'll not love him, but now you do. And the fact that last night will fuxk everything up between you two is saddening because you are going to say no and he will not be very appreciative.

If; he likes you back. 

You feel his presence behind you. Not too close but not too far. You call out his name, he confirms. After a moment you speak, "Yes you make me nervous." trying to speak loud and clear but you voice only manages to come out in whispers. You hear him cackle. "I know." His deep voice goes straight down to your core, leaving you weak in your knees, he's standing just behind you. You feel his breath on your ear making you hold your breath, not moving even one inch. How desperately you want his hands on you and how badly he wants to sqeeze you in his arms and tell you everything he's been keeping inside for so long. Only if you knew. Only if you saw his face right now, looked into his eyes. You would know he wants you too, he always has. Since the day he saw you on your first day he craved you. Every day being by your side wasn't enough but oh he was just so scared to lose you after being told everything you've been through by your batchmates. He figured your past won't allow you to. So he kept quite. Falling in love with you everytime you looked at him, everytime you smiled at himz shyed away from him. He fell in love with the way you lived and laughed and cried. Just like you fell for him. 

"Take a chance with me?" he spoke lowly, carefully. You turned around, facing him. Shaking your head no caused the tears to fall down that were building in your eyes. You kept shaking you head moving back untill your back touched wall. You sobbed, no you were practically crying like a child in front of him only it was on mute. He approaches you coming closer and closer it was like you lost your mind and your senses gave up on working. "I can't" you managed to speak aloud.

"Why?" he asks trying to stop your crying at the same time. Holding you by shoulders, gently stroking up and down, calming. "You don't know what happened." 

He lifts your tear stained face up by his fingers, making you look at him, "I'm willing to know." he pushes further, caging you between him and the wall. "And if I don't understand, make me!" it's hard to understand the expression on his face. He's sad but, he's also angry. And frustrated and hurt but at the same time, gentle and understanding and concerned. Hands moving to cup your face, "You want me to confess first right? I love you okay? I have ever since god know when. And i know you do too so why the fuck can't you just let go and let me!?" The last part he says through greeted teeth while punching the wall behind you, you jump out in fear, "Fuck Im sorry." he apologizes under his breath, realising he's being to harsh.

He moves in closer, connecting his forehead with yours, "I'm sorry." he breathes out heavily, he's crying. He's hurting. "I can't help but think of what we could be." You open your eyes to look at him, tilting your face up a little, closing in the gap even more. His eyes are tight shut. "I can't help but think about you." He opens his eyes to look into your dark ones, getting lost. You both breathe heavily, hearts beating at the same pace, passion shooting through your veins. He closes the inches left in between you too, both of you close your eyes, nose touching, breathing in the air only the other can provide. His lips linger close to yours, quivering, afraid to harm you. Afraid to scare you. Chest heaving up and down in synchrony, lips ready melt into each other, only a moment apart, only a touch apart, still apart.

He draws a sharp breath in moving away but only slightly. You look down, the tension in the air is so heavy it could crush your weight under it. Tears still falling down like a waterfall.

 "Please don't say no." he speaks in the quietness. You shook your head again, whispering "Don't cry." 

He wiped it as quickly as it fell. "I'm sorry" you say, trying to move past him, but he stops you holding your hand, making you turn around. Gripping you face with only one hand he crashes his lips on yours, you pause. You didn't try pulling away, not because his grip was too tight but you didn't wanted to. When you moved your lips, he moved his. He held you by your waist with his other arm. Making you dizzy, holding you close you could feel his beating heart against your chest. Head tilted to deepen the kiss, body crushing into each other like planets colliding, teeth clashing like two swords in a battlefield, hands roaming the bodies freely, holding on to each other like you were to lose them the very next second. He could taste your tears in his mouth. He could taste his life. It was beautiful, it was perfect. In that moment you felt you could let go of everything that was holding you back, you past didn't matter in that moment. You saw one chance, one possibility. 

Struggling to stand straight, he walks your over to the counter never leaving your lips. He slows it down, letting you breathe. Softly sucking your swollen lips. He takes your lower lip between his teeth, he bites it so hard you whince in pain, which only makes him lower his hands and squeeze your butt, pulling you lower body to meet his, grinding into each other, desperate for each other, not getting enough and wanting more and more. The visible bulge in his bottoms evidently hit the right spots, making you lose control, making you go wild and grind yourself into him too. The height difference makes it so much easier like his body was made keeping you in mind so you both could fit each other perfectly. His hands travel north, tangling your hair and pulling them down, which makes your head go back, exposing your neck to him. His lips leave yours, sucking in a new space found, leaving deep red marks, marking you as his.

It took one single thought to pull you out of it, again. You try to push him away, struggling at first, he backs off, and the moment he does you leave, "So you're going to ignore me now?" he says panting, making you stop and turn back. He looks at the red mark on your neck that he created. He chuckles, "Thats the plan? huh? Ain't gonna work." you're hurting him you know it. You turn around to leave, "You're gonna come back."

And you leave.

You just leave. 

And like that, 5 months pass. The day turns into night and night into day, you go to college and come back home then go to college again. You see him every day and he sees you everyday and like strangers you cross paths. He started a new job, you heard. You started having panic attacks, he heard.

Sit and stare out of the window, thinking of all that you could have done differently. You thought not being with him or anybody would make things alright. Being alone would make your head clear and a little less messed up and then maybe you can go out date freely without having to be afraid of what might go wrong. But it seems like it all backfired on you. Now you have one more thing to forget, one more thing to carry everyday.

You thought you would get better, but little did you know it was him who was making you better. You thought you would get over him but you really do love him. You can't get him out of your head and he's gone, you fucked it all up. You broke his heart which ended up breaking you too.

Sitting on the couch in the parties is the only thing you've been doing lately. How long can someone pretend that they're okay? A month? A year? You've been doing it since your childhood. You're tired of pretending and tired of hoping that it's all gonna get better. You can't even pretend anymore to be honest, it's evident you do that you miss him. You've been sitting here for 3 hours, just sitting not drinking. What if you get drunk? Who's gonna drive you home you have no one. He's here too. Not drinking. Not looking at you, not thinking about you, rather having fun actually. he moved on?

Why wouldn't he, why shouldn't he? It wasn't his fault. You're the only one to blame. He cried, he begged you to stay to not say no, but you didn't listen to him. Why should he wait on someone like you. You push all your hair to one side letting them cover your face in an attempt to hide from Yuta, you can't help but watch him closely, laughing and talking and everything, he's faking it. You know him this much to know which smiles he is faking. And suddenly he is looking at you. Earnestly. 4 minutes of intense gaze and then you give up. Breathing already uneven and your palm is sweating, you know what's gonna come. You throw your head back to rest on the sofa and stare blankly at the ceiling.

I shouldn't have said no.

I should have stayed.

Why did I do it.

I knew you i wrong.

I broke his heart.

It's all my fault.

Something is really wrong with me.

I made him cry.

He really loved me, how could you!

"Fuck."

The walls were closing in on you. It was going dark before your eyes, you couldn't shut your brain up. It was like you were trying to breathe but couldn't like someone evacuated your lungs out of oxygen or maybe there wasn't any oxygen left in the air to breathe. Head was hurting like someone was constructing a fucking road on it. You were panicking, heart beating at an abnormally high rate, sweat collecting at the low of your back. You lose complete sense of the surroundings. You try to get up but can't, so you just sit there on the sofa in the middle of a crowded room, trying to breath, with your head down to your knees. The music and the people get too loud, it felt like they were screaming your name you shut your eyes and cover your ears with your hands, just praying this would pass away soon.

A jacket was thrown over you, over your head. He was rubbing your back up and down, in an attempt to soothe you. He makes you shift from the position you were in to a position where your head was down on his knees, and his jacket still covering your face. His hand creeps under the jacket to caress your hair and he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, trying to make you focus on him, and on his voice.

You start crying in his lap, under his touch listening his voice after so many days, you missed him. His heart aches seeing you like this, watching you deteriorating day by day. He hated that he couldn't do anything, couldn't help you through it but he knew better. He knew nothing he could have said or done would have made you realise that running away was not an option, you have to face it, face your past and get over it, let go. And let love. Because what is love is not a risk? what is love if not taking a shot in the dark? what is love if not a mere chance? what is love if not a distinct possibility? Him trying would have just made you push him away even more! He wouldn't let that happen, so he waited on love. He waited on you. . He calls your name, twice "listen to my voice okay? It's okay, you're okay! Just try to breathe." You nod your head, the tears disappearing in the fabric of his jeans. "Let's go out okay?" He asks, after five minutes or so he walks you out of the room. Breathing the fresh night air somehow calms your nerves but you're still hyperventilating. He makes you side on the boundary wall that's pretty low. Your still a mess, eyes watering and breaths hitch you murmur small sorrys to him. The crying is just making it all worse, he noticed. Taking your face in his hands making you look straight into his eyes, "Breathe in." he asks you to and you do "hold." you hold your breath. "Release." you let go. At first it was hard but with his help you gained control again.

"I'm so sorry Yuta, i was i was trying to protec- protect you. I didn't wanted to hurt you i swear on my life." You sob. He nods, coming face to face "I know, you did your best."

"But I made you cry."

"because i couldn't see you hurting, also you left but i knew you were gonna come back."

"I tried that day, i wanted to stay i wanted to be with you but i couldn't i just couldn't bring myself up to believe that i was deserving to hold you. I-

I didn't deserve you, i still- "

"Don't complete that sentence or I'm gonna be real mad at you."

"no listen to me i don't have anything to give you I'm just I'm a messed up piece of shit i would've just wasted your time and energy."

"Well then you're my messed up piece of shit, whom i get to take care of because i want nothing but only you. And i totally wanna waste my time with you."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be, Its all good now"

You took a deep breath. Nothing is gonna change the fact that you hurt him, but he was wise enough to know you weren't intentionally trying to. Love. "I don't know what else to say but i love you"

"And that's more than enough babe."

"Ba-be?"

"I've been dying to call you that you know?"

"Why are you so good to me?" He just shrugs and ruffles your hair. "Wanna complete watching that movie together?" You sigh in relief nodding your head a big yes.

You thought he was taking you to watch a movie, but it was a whole different scene the moment you entered his apartment. He changed the lights. They are a warm shade of yellow now. He did put the movie on, but you weren't paying any attention to it. Your head was hurting because of the sudden attack you had at the party, so he insisted on sleeping instead. 

You tried sleeping, but the smell of his perfume on the bed kept you awake. makes you reckless. made your thoughts run wild. You remember how it felt the last time you were here, in his apartment. The tension, the dream, the heat, the kiss. Not the fighting part of the whole situation, but the part where you were wholly in love with him. The part where you wanted to take a chance The part where you wanted to give him your all. 

Feeling too overdriven by your train of thoughts, you get out of bed. You follow the noise that was coming from the kitchen to find Yuta making something. "What are you doing at this hour of the night?" You speak softly, standing by the door frame. He looks at you unfazed. "I assumed you were sleeping," I said. "The bedsheets smell like you." You walk behind him slowly, his eyes following your every step. "Quite distracting." 

"If you weren't drunk enough the last time you were here." 

"Then I wouldn't have been here." 

"Fact," he says, nodding."Try it," he says, handing you the cup. He emptied whatever he was making, tea. "Since when did you start drinking tea?" you question, placing the cup down, trying to sit on the counter. He helps you jump. "Since hot chocolate started reminding me of you." 

"I'm sorry," you whisper quietly. 

"You don't have to do it, and you shouldn't waste your time!" He scolds you, taking the empty cup from your hands and placing it in the sink. "I'll say it as long as I need to." 

"Useless "

Then how can I make it up to you? You can only tell. " 

"Endless ways I can think of right now." There was a sudden change in the way he spoke. The hoarseness in his voice lingered in the air and warmth creeped into his eyes. The coldness in the air was replaced by this heavy heat of want that was engulfing you and him alive. "Like?" 

Keeping your voice at a hearable volume, you make space between your legs by separating them, which was taken by him the very next second, "like finishing what we started." " You know what's coming next." The movie? " You put on the most innocent face you ever had in your life, looking him directly in the eyes, playing with him like he plays with you. "Now now, what a disappointment you are," he says while tapping your cheek with his index finger. Biting your lower lip, you say, "Someone used to call me dumb..." 

"You're playing the wrong game, babe." He warns, tracing your jaw line and down your neck. He then lines your clavicle up and down, "You're gonna lose." He takes both his hands behind your back, pulling you closer with a jerk. His face was only inches away now, his lower body already in contact. You could feel him hardening against your pussy. He was this close. 

"What if I want to lose?" You answer, your voice barely above a whisper, the taste of the tea still in your mouth, sweet, but you want his taste now. He chuckles lowly, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, his voice firm and demanding, unlike yours. "Well then, wait for me in the bedroom." 

It was new and exciting to get to see this side of him. Unlike his normal caring and soft self, this Yuta knew what he wanted. He is precious and just, and he needs no explanation for anything he does. "Oh and babe, undies off but keep my t-shirt on." You follow his command, going straight to the bedroom and removing your underwear and tossing it aside. 

You wait in anticipation, but don't quite know what to do. You were pacing around the room like a mouse chased by a cat. Butterflies in your stomach won't quiet down. The mere thought of what might happen causes goosebumps on your skin.Sitting at the edge of the bed, you check the time. It's 12:30 in the morning and that's when he enters. 

All of them changed. His demeanour was that of a wolf out on a hunt. And you were his prey. He shut the door behind him. His eyes were darker and his skin appeared a little bit colder than before. It's not like there's a third person but. You get up on your feet and just stand there in the middle of the room, a thousand thoughts in your mind playing every possible scenario that could happen. He drags a chair by its arm, situating it just in front of you, and sits down on it like a king. 

"Come ahead!" he orders. You start walking in an instant, almost tripping. His voice alone makes your insides curl and your pussy clench around nothing. Wetness is leaking down. 

"You really want to go down this road?" Changing his expression suddenly, his eyes glistened with a golden tint, probably because of the light coming in from the window. You try to play along, "Aren't we already down?" He smiles. "You can stop me anytime you don't feel comfortable, okay?" You nod, melting into his softness. How can this person do it? switching between personalities in mere seconds. 

"I doubt I'll stop you." You push a strand of your hair behind your ear, getting a little closer so your legs touch the chair. His legs were separated, and you were in the middle. The only source of light in the room was the street light, perfectly lighting up his face and your body. He lifts an eyebrow at what you just said, sitting upright in his chair. "Confident much? I like that. It won't be for too long though. " You shiver when his hands rub your outer thigh. He was waiting for a reply from you, but he was correct. The moment his hands touched your bare skin, all the confidence you were mustering up to talk back was thrown out of the window. His hands travel south and leave your skin hot, high, and dry. 

You gasp at the loss of contact. Being touched by someone, by him after so many years, you don't think you can last in this game for even a minute. 

"Let's begin, shall we?" 

You manage an "uhhm..." as you brace yourself for whatever he's about to do. He relaxes in his chair. With his eyebrows lifting up and down, he asks you to sit on the bed with a simple but powerful command. "Sit." 

You sit at the edge of the bed, your legs shut tight, your hands sweaty, and your mouth dry. 

"Let me see you." You didn't quite hear him, but you heard him. It was just so shockingly sudden. 

"Huh?" you stutter under his strong gaze. 

"Lost already." He deadpanned. He was mocking you, and he knows it's affected you. "Spread your legs, sweetheart." 

On his command, your agape mouth was shut, your legs already following his order, deciding to move on their own as your mind had given up on thinking ages ago. 

The show hasn't even started yet, and he's enjoying himself watching your timidity in every move you make. "No, actually, shift a little back. Make yourself comfortable." He gets up and shifts his chair forward as you move back on the bed. He got a glimpse of your core while you were shifting. You know he did because you saw the expression change on his face. Right there in that split second, you saw him almost lose and regain his composure.

Not letting him speak again, you spread your legs wide and open. The loose t-shirt that was covering you shifts up automatically, leaving you uncovered for him to devour you with his eyes alone. You looked at him and he looked at your core, shamelessly. This somehow gave you some kind of power over him. He is too weak for you. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes and breathing deeply but fast. 

The moment he opened his eyes and met yours, your soul definitely left your body. Your breath hitched, and you tried to look away from him, but his gaze was so hard it locked yours. You couldn't. "Touch yourself." You clench at his words, and he sees that. 

"Be more specific." That was bold of you to say that. He almost choked on your words. You may be the shy girl who is affected by small things, but you are also a freak. Although you do want to lose, you'd still give it your best shot. 

He poked his tongue under his cheek, nodding his head in approval of your regained confidence. "Touch your clit with only one finger and don't move it." 

Very precise. You do as he says. There is only one finger on your clit, and there is no movement at all. 

"Tap it." You do, lifting your finger up and keeping it gently on your throbbing clit. You clench again the moment your fingers touch, gasping out silently. "Keep on doing it until I say stop." He bites his lower lip as he watches you enjoy yourself at his command. The fact that you were doing it while he was watching you with his sinful gaze has already got you gripping the sheets and curling your toes. 

You do it slowly, sensually, watching him watch you. He's affected in ways he can't explain and in ways you can't fathom. Feeling good, you take your lower lip between your teeth and close your eyes. You get more comfortable as you fully submit to the task you were given. You let your head hang freely, trying to be more vocal, but letting out soft whimpers only. You didn't want to give him too much just yet. 

"Stop." 

You hiss at him. Drawing in a sharp breath, you bite your lip harshly in agression, not wanting to stop but stopping anyway. You look forward to him, his dilated pupils eyeing you like a scavenger, making you light-headed. "Enjoying yourself too much?" 

You nod slowly, your gaze never leaving his, and it drives him insane. 

Warmth creeps beneath your skin when he gets up from his chair and motions for you to come forward. You get on your knees, the t-shirt covers you again and you crawl to him to the edge of the bed to where he was standing. Sitting on your heels, you watch him loosen his belt. Then he undoes the waist button and unzips his pants. He slides them down, revealing white boxers and his untamed bulge, which he somehow managed to keep inside and hidden. 

You're dizzy by just imagining the size of him. You're unsure of what to do. Should you help him undress himself or should you just sit back and anticipate? Like a lost child, you wait for him to tell you. He asks a question instead. "I suppose you don't know how to give a blow job." Feeling belittled, you shook your head, looking up at him, "perfect." He compliments.

He slid the boxers down, his hard, thick and girthy dixk slapping against his abdomen, now free of any restrictions, standing tall and proud in front of you. You were too busy focusing on his perfection that you failed to keep up. He had already removed his shirt, and was now standing completely naked in front of you for the very first time. It's nerve awakening.

That is when you actually felt the gravity of the situation. It wasn't just some game you were playing; it was actually happening. You and he were actually happening. You fucking confessed to him yesterday! Yuta thought he was going to be angry and not talk to you at all because you broke his heart, but it's the complete opposite situation, he just couldn't be angry at you. Yuta knows better, good for you. He loves you. You love him and all your dreams about him were about to come true, he was going to make you his. 

"Fuck!" You didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Like what you see? I bet you dreamt about me. " It was like you were hypnotised by him or you lost control of yourself. It was like you were high on some drug. Or maybe you were high on him because you weren't thinking before nodding your head when he asked you that question. 

"What was I doing in them?" He takes his cock in his hands and starts palming it. You swear you saw it grow even bigger in size, as if it already wasn't. Too astonished to see the action just inches away from your eyes, you answer, "You were fucking me raw. From behind." You look up and gulp, "And you were spanking me, pulling my hair, kissing me, and marking me yours," you say in a small voice, so shameless, so pure.

"Get up on your knees." You do, inching yourself closer to him; he's still stroking his length in between. You look down, a new angle to admire him. You place your hand on his, your hand moving up and down his shaft with his. He slows down. "Want me to do all those things for you? Want me to touch you? " You looked up, mouth parted and eyes glistening to meet his dark ones. "Want me to pull your hair? want me to kiss you? fuxk you?" 

You nod frantically consumed by your arousal, his voice travelling straight to your untouched, unlooked, un-taken-careof core, your wetness literally sliding down your thigh. It's hurtful. 

"Oh baby, don't be that cute or I'll just have to fuck you right now." He says this restlessly before connecting his lips with yours. You let out a sigh of relief before giving into him. It was kind of the first physical contact he made after getting in this room, which has been nothing but hard for him to keep his hands away from you. He deepens the kiss. Tilting your face to the left, he locks his fingers in your hair, pulling them. The kiss was sloppy and messed up and just perfect, laced with desire and lust in every bit of it. Your tongues collided, your teeth clashed; you both just couldn't get enough of each other. Your hands rested on his neck, gripping tightly for support. He bites your lower lip making you gasp, then sucks it like candy. 

You reciprocate his every move. You try to, but you are getting out of breath. His hands travel down your back, lifting the t-shirt up and gripping your ass, squeezing it hard. You say his name aloud, breaking the kiss, "Yuta!" Your forehead rested on his shoulder while he kissed and nipped at your ear while kneading you, "Yes baby, you like it?" You hum in response, lifting your head up and looking at him, holding him close. "Rub your clit for me, baby." 

You bite your lower lip, lowering your hands and legs, your gaze never leaving his. You rub yourself up and down and in circles. He can't really see, but he knows. It makes his dick twitch. You let out a loud, breathy, dragged out moan, setting up a pace, "mhmmm shit."

He mimics that moan, his eyes burning with desire and lust. "Mhmmm shit... Nice and slow, yea baby, so good for me." You let out another breathy moan, closing your eyes but quietly this time, not wanting him to mock you again. 

His finger was placed on yours, on the one that was rubbing circles on your clit. You jump, in shock or excitement, you don't know. Your brain seizes the movement of your finger completely, "Why did you stop?" he takes over. His fingers move up and down, making yours move as well. Resting his forehead on yours, he continues to play with you, making you whimper with every flick. 

He moves your hands aside, your face contouring in pleasure when his fingers touch you, bare and raw, with nothing in between. There were chills running down your lower back, your stomach tightening with the pleasure he was delivering. Slowing down a little, he collects your wetness in his fingers, bringing it to your mouth to suck on it. You lick it first, then swirl your tongue around it, and then take it in completely, sucking like a lollipop. 

You kiss him with your flavour in your mouth. His hands find their way back between your legs, rubbing your clit, up and down and sideways, the wetness making his movements sloppy, his fingers gliding frictionless on your sweet swollen nub. His finger circles your opening before carefully dipping it inside of you. You purr in his ear while his lips ghost over the exposed skin of your neck. His breath hits you every time he exhales, absolutely burning your skin to a hot red. You clench around his finger, not letting it escape. Well, you finally have something to clench around this time. He stays inside of you for awhile. 

"Rub yourself again." And in no time, you're following his words, bringing your right hand to circle your clit. Now desperate to release, you don't go for slow motion but rather set a high pace. 

"Slow it down." 

You might be in disagreement looking at him but he gives you one look and you're slowing your fingers down. He pulls his finger out just to push it in again, and again, and again. You try to match your movements with his, setting a slow rhythm. You go up every time he pushes in, and that's how he drives you to your first orgasm of the night.

You've been at the edge for so long, you're coming undone with only one finger. You stop circling yourself and hold him to keep yourself up while his fingers are still working you up, slow and steady, riding you through it and pushing you into the beginning of the next one. 

His finger was buried up to his knucles, deep in you. He places his palm flat against your mound. You press into his touch. Moving your hips to grind into his hand, breathing harshly, he supports your body and whispers praises in your ear about how good you are and the amazing job you're doing. Just when you thought you could cum again, he makes you stop and removes his hand from between your legs. 

Licking his finger clean, he asks you to get on your hands and knees, "face down ass up, fast!" he said while pumping himself. The site of his hardened veiny dick was hard to look at. It was begging for your attention, but you weren't really confident with that. Instead of following his order, you stare at him palming himself. You look at him with a question written in your eyes. He understands what you're asking for but doesn't really acknowledge it. "Please." You kneel in front of him. He rolls his eyes, but gives you a look of content. 

"My girl wants a taste." 

You smile when he calls you his girl, "Yes. Your girl wants a taste." emphasis on the, "your girl." 

When you bring your face closer and look up at him, ready to take him in, he curses under his breath, holding your head in place with his hands clenching your hair in a fist, in the softest manner. "Open your mouth." You do, also giving a little extra you stick your tongue out for him.

He places the tip of his dick on your tongue, gently sliding it in against the surface. You close your lips around it. He slides further deep into your mouth, controlling himself to not push in too deep. Very slowly, he draws it out, leaving you empty and wanting more of him. He lets you take a taste, though. Slithering against your tongue in swift motions.

You swirl your tongue around his tip, which is already leaking. You try to take him deeper but his grip won't let you he only fucks his tip in. Finally bringing up the courage to take him into your small hands, you wrap your hand around the base of it, applying slight pleasure, moving your hand up and down his shaft. 

"Just like that." His voice boosts your confidence. He lets you play with him with your innocent little hands which are like a tease to him, until he can't take it anymore. Seeing you determined, his grip on your hair tightens and with his other hand, he moves your hands aside. He yanks your head back. "Open wider" He growls, as you do. And he slams his cock deeper than before. The sounds you produce are embarrassing. He goes deeper, causing you to gag, your heartbeat fastening even more all of a sudden. You mumble protest, telling him to remove himself and wrap your hand around his wrist, taking a hold of it. He withdraws himself, you cough a little, breathing deeply, then open your mouth again to take him in. He grins, "Now that's my baby!" tightening his fist around your hair and pulling your head a little more up. 

He slides his dick down again, slowly and gently going deeper. He wasn't even going deep to be honest; he was just at the brim, yet your mouth was full of him. Hair messed up and eyes watery, swollen lips wrapped around his girthy member, saliva trailing down your neck, only acting as a lubricant. When he finally siezes his dick after seeing your tousled state and didn't want to cum just yet, you try to regain your breath. Holding your hair back, not pulling anymore, rather soothing your nerves down. Wiping a tear away, he devours your glistening lips with his, not taking any time to deepen it. Pushing you down on the bed, he hovers over you, keeping his knee in between your legs, very very close to your aching to be touched core. His lips leave yours, connecting to your still aching jaw. He leaves a warm wet trail of kisses down your neck and everywhere in between. Sloppy kisses were placed along your clavicle, purposely sucking and leaving red marks around, making you hiss in pain and take his name. 

His hands roam up and down your body, making sure there isn't a single inch left to be touched and explored by him. His hand stretched the tee you were wearing, revealing only the upper part of your breast. He kitten licks the area, then bites the flesh and soothes it with a kiss, making every part of your body his, messed up, burning hot and so beautiful. 

His lips go south, taking your hardened nipple in his mouth and sucking on it through the thin fabric of the tee. While playing with the other, Your lower body automatically starts grinding on his knee, trying to obtain some friction, but it seems to be not working, but you swear the amount of heat dissipating from just the mere contact was enough to melt gold and silver. 

He is too intoxicated just by the way you feel against his lips. He brings himself back to reality to perform the second main job. He gets off the bed only to sink down on his knees in front of you. His face only a few licks away from your heat, you move closer to his mouth. He separates your legs further away, only able to look at you in full bloom this once. Drunk already, he dives in for a sip, and he is not disappointed. A long lick from the bottom of your warmth till up to your clitoris got your toes curling. While he laps at your juices, you curse his name a hundred times. He flicks your clit with his tongue, then sinks it as deep as it can go into you while nuzzling his nose to brush against your clit, it's a perfect blend to which he adds his fingers, the middle one he pushes in first. Out he comes to push it in 2 knuckles deep and then finally sink it deeper, curling it inside, making you roll your eyes back in pure bliss. You're feeling extremely. He adds another finger. That hurts a little but is soon replaced with pleasure. He works you up to your second orgasm, but doesn't let you cum just yet. 

His hands leave your body at once, and you hold back a moan, trying not to sound desperate. His figure walks across the room where he must have kept his wallet. 

You hear a wrapper being torn, goosebumps crawl up on your skin. He takes no time to return. "Make room for me." He gets on the bed, splitting your legs wider. He lets you rest in a comfortable position, keeping a pillow under your head. He drags his fingers between your folds, collecting your juices and spreading them on his member. You look up at the ceiling, aftain, excited, impatient. The yellow lights are forming abstract patterns on the wall. You feel his tip at your entrance, and soon he pushes it in with optimum pressure. You contract your muscles and your eyes shut tightly at the feeling. It's one of pain and fear and not pleasure. "Yuta, it hurts." You breathe out and call his name, your hands trying to grab his shoulders. He pushes in further, rather slowly this time while towering over you and coming face to-face, "Good." 

You lift your hips up a little to ease out the passage, and he bottoms out. He stays like that for a minute. No words were exchanged, just the feelings being felt. His breaths are uneven matching with yours. He connects your foreheads together. You don't know if his eyes are closed or open. They're closed. You inhale him in as he exhales you. 

"Fuck," he growls just before abruptly slamming into you, "Fuck." 

And then it continues, and it hurts no more. He's fucking you hard and slow, going deep and deeper. Making you cry out every time he hits that spot. His voice is husky and low, sending shivers dancing up and down your body. You whimper under him. Your sounds, mixed with the slickness of your bodies crashing into each other, were playing on repeat; warmth and lust in the shade of red were decorating the room, and the orange glitched tint was illuminating the perfect parts of him and you. 

He goes from a painfully slow to a pleasurably fast pace, no mercy he was showing, abusing your little cunt with his big thick dick, driving all the pleasure out for himself as he should, while giving you exactly what you wanted. So good. It feels so good to finally have him inside you, using you, destroying you to only mend you as whole, as his. 

He's fucks you so right.

He lifts his body up a little, supported by his hands over you, looking at your contoured face. He slaps your cheek playfully in an attempt to get you to open your eyes and look at him while he fuxks the shit out of you. He grabs your hands and pins them behind your head. Oh, he knows you are going to come, but it doesn't make him stop or slow down. He continues fuxking you harder and harder until you come undone under him. Your body convulses. Waves of pleasure travel through your nerves, hitting your brain. Your vision go black and, for a brief moment, you lose complete sense of reality, being in a state of complete euphoria. You've never had an orgasm like this before.

And the best part of it all is that he doesn't stop. 

He's drilling in and out of you at a monsteric pace. Your body writhes under him, trying to squirm its way out of his grip, but all these go in vain when his fingers wrap around your dainty neck, applying only the right amount of pressure to hold you down and keep your body fixed in its place. 

When he loses control, his merciless pace becomes even more merciless, banging his head hard, fast, and deep all at once. His thrusts became sloppy and rushed. Chasing after his high, he goes feral. You watch him clench his jaw in pleasure, the sweat rolling down making his hair stick to his skin, his low grunts and humming sound. He's trying to contain himself. What a sight. It makes you want to cum again. 

The pleasure starts building at the pit of your stomach again. You wrap both your hands around his hand, the one that was choking you, while rocking your hips back and forth, trying to match him, looking into his eyes, speaking with an unspoken language. 

And that's how he fuckls you into believing that you are enough, for him and for yourself. That you are capable of being loved and taken care of. That even if you're messy and stupid and dumb, you're still perfect. That you can let go and you can trust. That you can be.

Be his.

And then he explodes inside of you. He couldn't be more grateful, couldn't be more precise in saying that his wait was worth it. You were worth it. He rubs you into your third orgasm. And after that, nothing was like it was before. 

All of you changed. 

All of you changed when he kissed you and told you that he loved you so much. All of you changed when you saw him clean you up in the after hours. All of you changed when he fell asleep beside you, taking you into his arms. 

All of you changed when you met him for the first time.

______

did not proof read, but hope u liked it, The constructive criticism is accepted here, do leave a follow ~

[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

The generational abuse in Moral Orel

I literally watched this show a few weeks ago and made it my whole entire personality lol

So one of my favorite messages in Moral Orel is defiently based on how having kids when you are still dealing/repressing trauma is never a good idea because you will eventually pass on that trauma to your kids, with or without intention.

I mean, besides the absolutely beautiful lesson about how family shouldn't be something made out of obligation but out of love, the latter message sticks out to me quite a lot.

For starters we have Bloberta and Clay, In the outsiders eyes they may seem like the best parents ever, but as a viewer, we are aware of how god awful they are at parenting.

Blorberta reduces her responsabiltiy as a mother to cooking, cleaning, and briefly attending to her childrens physcial needs.

She is barley attentive to her childrens emotional needs and always ignores them and tries to brush off their emotions to feel better about her own self.

Another thing is that although shes physically there, she isn't actievely present in her childrens lives and is always in the background.

Orel never goes to her for guidance, and although that could be rooted in misogony another main reason is because she dismisses Orel constantly, telling him to go tell father or to go pray to God instead because shes busy cleaning.

Orel naturally has heavily been accostumed to not go to his mother for help unless it deals with food, clothes or messy rooms.

Then theres Shapey, who is obviously heavily neglected. His "bad" behaviors are manifested because of that constant negligence, she never once taught him anything and she will never bother to do so.

Shes always throwing Shapey around to Orel, making Orel the responsible one for Shapeys un-ethical behavior instead of realizing the reason he acts this way is because of the lack of an adult authoritive figure.

Most of her interaction with her kids are based on her giving them lunches, cleaning their room or when she lightly reprimands her kids when they get in the way of her cleaning.

Bloberta is a cold, cruel and emotionally distant mother...but why is that exactly?

Well, we can sort of blame the enviorment around her. Women in society, especially in a very religious society, are only respected when they are seen as "useful".

In Moralton, its clear that a womans worth is based on their usefulness for the people around them, ESPECIALLY their husbands and kids.

This very warped viewed on womanhood caused Bloberta to believe that the only right way to be a mother is just to be helpful enough in a physcial way, she never learned about the importance of emotionally nurturing her kids because in her eyes, thats the own kids job to do.

But the enviorment around her wasn't the only reason as to why shes a god awful parent, lets take a look at her family background.

Bloberta grew up with 3 siblings, and for some reason, her mother considered Bloberta to have an unimportant and neutral role in the family.

In turn, Bloberta felt useless, unloved and unwanted. The only person in the family who tried to help Bloberta was her dad, but even he couldn't stomach connecting with her unless he was drunk enough to do so.

So anyways, she's dealing with all this internalized urge to be of use in her own house.

Her decision to settle down with Clay was flat out obviously not out of love, but out of a need to be percieved as wanted.

It was both for her own personal need and to finally succeed in societal image's standards.

She also seems to be someone who cares a whole lot about her looks. She cares about them to the point she doesn't let anyone see her messy hair, baggy eyes, and lack of makeup. Including her own family.

She doesn't feel comfortable enough to show her true self to her own family. She keeps up an image even with her own blood.

Clay obviously never loved her from the beggining so she starts looking for external love aswell.

Which is why she cheats on Clay with Danielle and seeks sexual attention from Dr. Potters Wheel.

So all in all, she is basically seen as an extention to her husband and kids, which causes her to feel well...numb.

This numbness eventually is what makes her to start actively self harm. She feels absolutely nothing for her husband and kids besides this socital need to be seen as a good wife and mother.

One can argue that she does care for her kids, but it's not deep care, it's out of duty.

Although Orel can be naive, he does subconciously take in that her mother is never there in his personal life. In the episode "movie primere" Bloberta is only mentioned twice, because she has never tried to gain any type of connection with her kids.

Orel also admits that Stephanie (a peeson he JUST met) radiates more kindness than his own mother.

The reason she never reached out for her kids in an emotional sense was because no one ever did that with her as a kid, she doesn't know how to do it, she doesn't know how to deal with her own kids emotional needs because she herself has a looot of repressed urges and stress.

She doesn't bother to deal with her childrens pain because shes too busy trying to repress her own.

So thats the reason Bloberta is a god awful mother... Is it justified? Of course fucking not!!! But its totally okay to be able to sympathize and understand her.

Now we have Clay... Boy this is going to be a ride.

Also Clay's parenting towards Shapey and doesn't fully count, they aren't actually his kids. Is the way he neglects Shapey okay? Hell no but we can't expect him to care for him when he struggles to be attentive to his actual son.

Unlike Bloberta, Clay is way more present in Orel's life than she ever is, and although this should be considered a good thing, theres many factors that say the contrary.

Orel's almost-instict reaction when he wants advice is "gee... I have to ask dad!" that includes even asking him during unreasonable times, for example, when hes sleeping or when it's waaay to early in the morning.

This gives us an understanding that Orel trusts his father to guide him.

Without context, that's the sweetest thing ever until we realize Clay constantly spanks, gives hypocritcal lectures and constantly tries to drain the natural curiosity in Orel.

His way of connection through Orel is through scolding him, through reprimanding him and through physical abuse (well—Clay doesn't consider it physcial abuse but we all know damm well that it is).

He sometimes gives little pats in the head or puts his hands on his shoulder as a small way of normal parental physical reassurance but thats about it.

As for emotional reassurance, it's very scarce.

Clay avoids any external conversations with his child unless it involved any sort of scolding or hypocritcal lessons.

He once openly admits he loves Orel but it was worded pretty interesting: "Oh Orel, I could never love you more! People only have a certain amount of love in them and im afraid I have to divide mine up between atleast a dozen people.... But remember son, I love you enough."

His argument here is that he loves too many people so he can't spend it all on Orel, but the true reason he can't fully love Orel is a much more sinister reason.

Let's talk about Clay's background shall we?

Clay grew up for 12 years very pampered by his mother. His father was much more stern and lacked much warmth but he still tried to be present for his son.

His mother made Clay believe that he was the most precious thing to her, until later Clay starts finding out about his mothers multiple miscarriages which causes him to have a full existencial crisis.

He wouldn't have existed if it weren't for the previous miscarriages.

This causes Clay to pull a really childishly cruel prank where he plays dead to worry his mother and father.

What Clay expected from this prank was to be reassured that no matter the previous miscarriages, he will always be loved by his mother the most.

Well... Lets just summarize that Clays mothet has a weak heart and in turn died of shook.

Ever since that incident his father blamed Clay for the death of his mother.

Arthur (clays dad) would hit him, and Clay started to view that as affection because thats the only fatherly acknwoledgement Clay ever got to know.

So Clay would purpously rile his father up so that he can hit him and give him the desperate fatherly attention he craved.

But Arthur noticed this, and instead of realizing how much he's fucked up his own childs perception of love, he completely stops paying attention to Clay, basically disowning him without ever kicking him out of the house.

So now we understand why Clay connects with his son through physical abuse, right? This was the only fatherly attention he ever got as a kid and he doesn't know what else he can do to show his kid love since he never got it himself.

And although this is an unpopular opinion, Clay really was trying to put an effort into being a good father. In "beforel Orel" he didn't talk to Orel because he was nervous about his parenting.

It was until he faced his father again which gave him the outmost confidence to parent Orel in a way that his own father never did.

His parenting skills are obviously the worst though lol.

Orel may have loved his father, but his subconcious feared him.

One time when Orel made a stopmotion he drew Clay as a scary wolf saying that his dad was made as a dog because "he's loyal and good." Orel understandably feared his father, I mean the only way he properly interacted with him was through his father hitting and scolding him.

Now, something important to consider is that Clay never wanted to get married, he confirms this in the episode of season 3 "help". He got manipulated in a marriage with Bloberta and it was too late to pull back.

His horrible marriage with Bloberta aswell as being tied to a family and job that he didn't actually want start to make him extremely miserable.

Which causes him to drown out all his pain with alcohol.

But funnily enough, alcohol only worsens his pain more.

In the nature p1 AND p2 episodes, we realize how much alcohol Clay consumes, which is honestly really disturbing.

So basically in those episodes, Clay takes Orel to a haunting trip, trying to continue the Puppington tradition (funnily enough, that tradition was cut short after Clay's mothers death).

Orel being a normal child, wasn't really keen on killing animals, so he was already quite nervous about the hunting trip.

When they arrive to the reserve, Clay is drinking and he doesn't stop, each time he drinks out of frustration that Orel hasn't killed any animal.

Orel gives up and doesn't kill anything, telling Clay that he isn't comfortable hunting with his him. He then proceeds to call him "too drunk" which in return makes Clay mad.

Clay proceeds to call Orel as pessimist by saying his cup is always half empty, which is ironic considering Orel is naturally one of the most positive characters in the whole series.

He then goes onto a rambling, confusing bright with "blight" and then admiting his own life is truly full of blight, he starts crying and then says how he hates himself.

Orel starts tearing up himself, never expecting to see his dad in such a state.

The bottle in his hands start yelling at him "WHY DO YOU QUIT WORKING ON ME?" implying that Clay would expect the alcohol to drown out the pain but instead amplifies it more.

He then starts rambling again, he is quite literally talking about women and how they force you into something you don't want and "squeeze things out of you."

I think the "women" he's proyecting on is defiently Bloberta. He didn't want a marriage, but he was manipulated and obligated into one anyway, and then public image caused them to force themselves into having a child.

Clay didn't want that, he didn't want to be tied down this way. He expected that having a family could make him feel alright, but that eventually quit "working on him" because it wasn't what he evidently needed.

His rant on women can also tie down to his own repressed homosexuality, which makes this all too sad.

Later on, Clay foolishly starts handeling his gun with no safety on and accidently shoots Orel in the leg.

Instead of apologizing he asks "what have you done?" and Orel responds "I got shot by you..." his passive sentence here gives us an understanding that he is still processing that his own dad shot him.

When Clay opens the first aid kit, he sees the rubbing alcohol and drinks it up instead of applying it on his son, which causes Orel to finally say "I hate you."

This was Orels moment of realization.

Clay being drunk and obviously dismissive of the power of Orel's words just brushes it off by saying "Hate away, sister. Hate away."

When Clay sobers up the next morning, he completely acts as if he didn't shot his son, not wanting to accept he hurt his son that way aswell as not wanting to accept the blame.

Orel also lied to Clay that day, telling him that Clay shoot the bear and not Orel himself, because he didn't feel like his dad was someone worth making proud. He wasn't worth it.

When they return home, Orel has a conversation with his mother asking her why she married dad in which Bloberta responds "why not?"

This has been Blorberta's whole thinking process ever since she met Clay, "he's an attractive man and I have to marry soon to prove my worth so why not?"

She never choose Clay out of love, but out of mere obligation and pressure.

When Orel tells her mom that when Clay drinks he changes, Bloberta finally confirms to Orel that he doesn't change, that its just his true nature coming out.

All those repressed emotions, toxic masculinity, societal pressure, labor stress, awful marriage, and the crumbling of his perfect image.

Thats Clay's true nature, how he feels about himself and how he deals with it is what makes him who he is.

Afterwards, we have an amazing episode called "Sacrifice".

This episode is the most self-awarness we will ever get from Clay.

So this takes place literally after the haunting trip, Clay overhears the previous conversation between Blorberta and Orel.

He then also finds out his wife has been desiring Dr. Potters Wheel. So he decides to drown all that out by going to a bar.

In this episode, Clay kickstarts into a series of alcohol induced rants.

He initally focuses on the term sacrifice, feeling as if he's sacrificing his own happiness for his kids.

Clay thinks that by economically supporting and lecturing his kids is enough to give them satisfaction. It's a really hypocritcal rant because although he does mantain the whole family, he also made his family life miserable by keeping his awful marriage with Bloberta and drinking alchol to drown his sorrows.

Aftee a whole series of events unfold...Clay's monolouge gets deep.

"maybe there was a jerkoff called Darwin after all and that you never acknowledged his existence, because you knew deep inside that you were really what you feared you were: Weak, and passive, and ultimately broken by the ones who were made the fittest. And then through your weaknesses you built up a poison, that poisoned others around you... That you love..."

He then starts tearing up when he says that, unable to truly finish the sentence. He ultimately knows that he destroyed a dynamic with the only person in the family that genuienly loved him.

He feels hurt, he feels torn, but the guilt won't make the bullet hole go away (literally).

I also have to mention that Clay wss desperately trying to poke at the people who were in the bar, expecting them to beat him up. He wanted to be beat up, to be proven that he is worth it, Clay used to measure his wortfulness over how well he parented Orel. But after the incident, he can't even feel slightly worth it, thats why he needs to be proven by others that he is.

But everyone leaves him alone, because he truly isn't worth it anymore. And he knows it.

It is also implied by Orel that Clay has hid away in his study for 6 months. He stayed away from Orel out of personal disgust and guilt, but refussing to change and take responsibility.

During Honor, we see Orel desperately trying to find a way to still honor his father, so reverend putty tells him to go to talk to someone who truly loves his dad to find out the reasoning behind it.

Orel then goes to Danielle.

Now Danielle was actually upset with Clay because he saw him kissing Censordoll.

He was hurt because well, he loves Clay and Clay would rather get physical with another woman for buisness issues over giving Danielle the actual love he feels for him. (once again, repressed homosexuality!!!)

Orel and Danielle basically hang out throughout the whole day, which causes Clay great jealousy and discomfort.

He then drags Bloberta and his two illegilimate kids to Danielle's home.

He burts through Danielle's door and tells him to stay away from Orel because.... "he's not yours I am."

Cats out of the bag now, am I right folks?

Sadly, thats not the case.

He immedietly brushes off what he said and hugs Orel, looking lovingly into Danielle's eyes.

"Oh how I miss you... Orel"

"I need you in my life... Orel"

"and I..."

He then pushes Orel away and walks towards Danielle, repeating "I love you" mulitple times but ends the last "I love you" with Orel's name. Still trying to shield his very obvious declaration of love.

Danielle was the only person that Clay actually loved that didn't involve manipulation, obligation, or mommy issues.

But of course, he screwed it up. It was too late.

Clay deprived himself of the arguably healthiest love he would ever have.

After this episode, we get a beautiful time skip

The time skip includes Orel finally marrying Christina.

Christina is someone that Morelton looks down upon because of her differing beliefs.

But Orel gives a damn about image, he loved Christina as a kid and always has.

In turn of marrying someone he truly loves, he had children he truly wanted with her.

Like the Reverend said "family is sometimes a group of people that are forced to live together but every so often, a miracle happens."

The miracle was Orel choosing his own life without the need of societal pressure. Orel genuienly marrying for love.

In the end scene, we see all the happy kids sitting with Orel while Christina sits next to him.

And in the back we see Clay and Blorberta, who grew old together and never divorced.

They are miserable and will always be miserable.

Orel, however? He learned not to follow into their footsteps.

He broke the chain. And I admire his braveness.

[curseofaphrodite]

The Best Man Regulus Black x fem!reader

Summary: you meet sirius’s brother at the wedding and realizes he’s more nervous than he seems. Big thank you to Summer for helping me come up with this idea! [ FLUFF ]

[ wolfstar wedding, mentions of alcohol, swearing, no peter anywhere ]

Being at the wedding of your best friends can be quite exciting, because you're the sole person who can walk up to anyone and say, "hi, I know the grooms more than anyone at this party! You don’t even know their favorite flavour from Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans!”

It’d be weird if you did say that but you get what I mean. It’s the only place you can be proud to show off how well you know Remus and Sirius, and after suffering years with them at Hogwarts, you knew a lot.

But even then, you were curious. There were a lot of people you didn’t know, and some familiar faces with no names. Especially the one who had a star tattoo on his wrist. 

“Your best man is hot,” you remarked later to Sirius at the wedding reception. 

Under any other circumstances, Sirius would have spat out the pumpkin juice he was drinking, but under the glare of his new husband, he felt almost-spitting was better.

“That’s my baby brother!” He said defensively.

“You had a brother?” you asked, frowning. “How come I never knew him?”

“He’s not big on talking about his family,” Remus sighed. “Regulus is a good kid though, and what are you talking about, Y/N? He was literally in your year.”

“No way,” you said, waving it off. “I’d remember someone this hot— uhm, cute.”

Sirius noticed the slip and scowled. 

“You should introduce me,” you continued with an innocent smile.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have That look. You’ll flirt with my brother!”

You gasped dramatically. “I will not!”

“Okay cut the acting, both of you,” Remus interrupted sternly. “Pads, you made him your best man because you wanted to apologize for not having a proper relationship with him. And Y/N—”

His exasperated look turned a bit mischievous. “I’ll introduce you to him later.”

Sirius let out a cry of protest, but you laughed and walked away as more guests started congratulating them on their special day. Remus had promised you, so you needn't worry.

◆◆◆ 

 As it turned out, you didn't need his help either. While you were pouring yourself a drink, Regulus Black was standing across the room, and you decided to go over. What’s the worst that could happen? He looked so lonely anyway. 

Sirius did talk to him occasionally but as it was his wedding, he couldn't stay for long. You could see the split-second anxious gaze Regulus sent around the room each moment his brother left him, as if he was inside a house of mirrors with no reflections of him anywhere. 

◆◆◆

“Hey!” you said spontaneously from behind, which caused Regulus to jump in shock, making papers on his hands fall.

You cursed under your breath and bent down, trying to pick them up, but was beat to it by Regulus himself.

“I���m sorry—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he repeated, clawing at all the paper with not frustration but nervousness. 

“What are they?” you asked curiously. He straightened up, hesitating.

“My speech,” he answered, looking ashamed. 

“Oh!” His nervousness made sense to you now. “You’ll do great, I know so.”

“I’m not too sure about that,” he smiled, his eyes on the words he had written down. 

“C’mon, you will! What about this? We can practice together,” you suggested, earning a laugh from him. 

“Okay,” he agreed, trying to not keep smiling.

It felt nice to have someone to talk to. He took a glass of champagne and held it in front of him. “We’re gathered here today to celebrate the lives of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, two souls so in love — wait, why are you laughing?”

You tried to put on a serious face. “Where did you get that speech from?”

“I came up with it myself!”

“It sounds like, uhm stolen,” you admitted. “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what the pastor said actually. You’re supposed to give a toast, not officiate the wedding again.”

He sighed and drank the champagne. With a snap of his fingers, the paper had disappeared. “I suck at this, don’t I?”

“You could stand there and say one single word and Sirius would be proud.”

“I didn’t want to be the best man actually,” he confessed, looking at the party blankly.

“Why?” 

“I don’t know my brother that well. Not like I used to when we were kids. A best man is supposed to be quite opposite of that.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” you said, taking a sip of your own pumpkin juice. “I’m the maid of honor and yet I didn’t know Sirius had a brother.”

“You didn’t know I existed?” Regulus laughed, though he really did look surprised. “That’s a shame, you were the only one I recognized in the wedding.”

“Wait, you know me?” It was your turn to be surprised.

“Not specifics like name or birthday, but yes, I’ve seen you around Hogwarts.” He suddenly seemed interested in the glass he was holding. “I’ve always thought you and Remus were the only ones with braincells.”

“If I keep drinking, you’ll see how wrong you are.” 

He raised an eyebrow in reply. 

“You could have talked to me,” you prodded. In fact, you meant it. He seemed like a nice person outside his intimidating stares. If you’ve met him at Hogwarts, you would have easily been friends with him.

Before he could answer, Sirius came out of nowhere. 

“There you are, Y/N!” He said earnestly. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“You weren’t,” you tried to interrupt, but he had softly pulled you with him already.

You rolled your eyes and waved at Regulus, who looked both amused and disappointed.

◆◆◆

When it was time for the toasts, Regulus stood up from his side of the table, and silence automatically fell.

He took in a deep breath, and Sirius nodded encouragingly. 

On the other side, you smiled at him, which he wished you didn’t do. Sure he appreciated the gesture, but your smile only made him forget his speech more.

“Everyone here,” Regulus began, deciding to just wing it. “must have talked to Sirius atleast once. And anyone who has talked to him know just how drastically different the two of us are. In fact, the only common thing we share is blood.”

Strong start, you thought and listened curiously.

“But no matter how different we are, no matter how he loves dandelions and I love lilacs, or how he wakes up late at the weekends while I watch the sunrise, or how he was in Gryffindor and I was in Slytherin — there’s only one thing I want to change about myself to be more like him. Only one.”

He paused, making you more intrigued.

“My brother is good, and I’m...” he paused, not knowing which word to use. Evil? Bad? Gullible? “..not. My brother is good and I’m not. I wasn’t anyway. But he took a chance on me and as much as standing here and talking to this many people is making me regret being sober, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing. I love him.”

Remus smiled and held Sirius close, who looked as if he’ll start crying any second.

“So a toast,” Regulus concluded, “to my brother and his husband, both of whom can rule this world together for all I care. Here’s to all the memories they made and all the ones to come. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” came the chorus from the crowds, and there were applause and whooping as the younger Black brother sat down. Sirius walked up from his table to hug him, which only made everyone clap more.

◆◆◆

“Nice speech,” you said, holding out a drink towards Regulus. 

It was late at night — that part of the weddings where everyone’s tired from dancing or drinking or both. Regulus was sitting on a bench which was lined up against the wall, and you decided to accompany him.

“Thank you,” he replied, both for the compliment and the drink. “Bet I looked like an idiot though.”

“You looked adorable,” you countered, to which he blushed.

For a few seconds, the two of you sat there in silence, looking at the bright lights and listening to drunk laughs. 

“It was a beautiful event, wasn’t it?” you asked, sighing.

“Was?” he repeated. frowning. “The party’s not over yet.”

“It will be soon.”

“I refuse.” He said boldly, standing up.

“You refuse — time?” you asked, confused.

“I refuse to leave without looking like an idiot.” He held his hand out and you shook your head.

“I can’t dance, I’m terrible at—”

“You helped with the speech so I’ll help you dance.”

“Those two are vastly different,” you said but he didn’t budge.

“Please?” his eyes softened, and in future, that was the same expression he frequently used on you to get whatever he wanted. Not that you knew it right then.

“Fine.” You gave in, giving him your hand. 

His smile widened as he pulled you to the dance floor. 

◆◆◆

“You owe me 10 galleons!” Sirius said triumphantly, walking towards Remus as he said goodbye to some of the guests.

“Do I?”

“Yup! Reg and Y/N may have danced but that's all they did. They went their separate ways after that, which means I won the bet!”

“Did you though?” Remus raised an eyebrow. “Don’t forget, the bet was that one day they’ll end up married. One day, not tonight.”

“But they didn’t even exchange their contacts,” Sirius replied, folding his hands. 

“Why are you so firm on them not dating?” 

“That makes me sound like a bad guy. They’re just not each other’s type.”

“Who?” Regulus appeared from behind. making Sirius jump in shock. 

“Hey Reg,” Remus greeted. “Loved the speech.”

“Ah thank you,” he said pleasantly then turned to Sirius. “I actually wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Sirius looked mildly surprised. “What is it?”

“Your maid of honor,” Regulus began. “Can I have her number?”

Remus hid a smug smile. Sirius’s mouth fell open. “Y/N’s?”

“Yes, I asked her but she said to ask you instead. Something about how your reaction would be pure gold.”

“That little shit,” Sirius hissed. 

“So can I have it?” Regulus asked expectantly. “Her number?”

Sirius looked at his little brother, and realized there’s no way he’ll leave without it anyway. He also liked seeing him happy tonight and looking back, you were the root cause of it.

Sirius groaned and handed over ten galleons to Remus, knowing he’s already lost. 

— — — — — —

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[hanmasghost]

Hello if I may request a kisaki with 2 twin little brothers who are in 5th grade or middle school ?

“Little Twins”

400 Special

Authors Note:

Hehehe👹 I love Kisaki please let me write for him more omg

Pronouns: He/Him

Warning(s): Kisaki content^^, ooc(?), au(?)

HCs

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

❥ Ah yes.. {Reader} and {Name}… the two lovable little snot filled shits that Kisaki is left with 24/7

❥ {Reader}? No I think you mean Thing One

❥ {Name}? No I think you mean Thing Two

❥ God really said “fuck you Kisaki, have yourself two brothers who are just copy and paste versions of the other where you can’t tell who is who!”

-literally. Same voice, same face, same hair, same everything!

-only way he knows the difference between you two is that one of you has a sweet tooth and the other craves spicy food, which means he always has to carry sweet and spicy candy…

❥ Hates when you guys talk at the same time

- Like what kind of fuckery did you guys do to be able to do that?!

❥ How THE FUCK are you guys only 10!? Shouldnt ten year olds be picking their nose and play with cars!? Not annoying Kisaki and fucking with his gang life!

❥ Constantly bribed you guys to stay home with ice cream and XBOX games

- His poor wallet</3

❥ Hanma adores you guys

- You’re his siblings now, fuck you Kisaki

- Kisaki watches in jealousy when Hanma picks you both up in his arms and gives you both piggybacks… that should be his job >:[

❥ Probably taught you guys how to steal just for a one time thing and now you both just go around straight up pulling that “ahh I’m sorry for running into you sir! Please don’t tell my mom” while the other steals his wallet and watch bs

- Hanma finds it amusing. Kisaki does not. Why? Cause sometimes you both get caught and HE has to get you both out of it.

⌦ .｡.:*♡

“You little shits!” Kisaki heard as he walked out of the froyo shop with a tray holding 3 cups of frozen yogurt.

He looked around for his little brothers but they were not where he left them.

Kisaki sighed, now assuming that the yelling of the man he heard was towards his brothers, and that they somehow got themselves into trouble… again. It wouldn’t be the first, not even the fourth time this happened.

Walking to where he heard the shout of the man he found himself looking at a man in a suit, possibly 6’ ft or over, with black hair and grey eyes holding the wrists of his little brothers, one in each of his hands.

Kisaki balanced the yogurt tray in one hand as he grabbed his wallet, getting ready to pay the man for the trouble the twins had caused.

“Excuse me.” Kisaki said, gaining the attention of the man and his brothers. “Sorry about my brothers, they’re… quite troublesome.”

“Yeah no shit! They tried to steal my watch!” The business looking man spat.

“How much?” The man gave Kisaki a look of questioning, asking him what he meant.

Sighing, Kisaki repeated himself. “How much for the trouble?”

“You can possibly pay me for the trouble they caused! I’ve called the police! These thieves are going to jail!”

“2k?”

“I said..” the man let go of {Names}’s wrist as he slapped the tray of frozen yogurt Kisaki held upwards.

Kisaki, with his now free hand, wiped the yogurt off his face and chest.

Pulling out a several, and I mean several, 100 bills from his wallet he snatched his other brother away from the man and threw the money at him. “Keep the change. Maybe use it to fix your attitude?” The little twins following behind Kisaki hastily.

Kisaki heard the man yell something, but he didn’t care. He was too annoyed to care. Who the hell tries to send two ten year olds to jail for a little thievery? Sure, it looked like an expensive watch but c’mon! They’re literally 10 and just stupid kids.

The twins each grabbed one of Kisaki’s hands.

Kisaki looked between the two, they didn’t normally just hold his hand… were they crying?!

“What’s wr-“

“We’re sorry big brother! We didn’t mean to get caught!” {Reader} interrupted.

“Yeah! We just wanted to get you a gift!” {Name} continued the apology.

“For what? It’s not even close to my birthday, or any holiday for that matter.”

“We just wanted to gift you for taking care of us… you’re always doing gang stuff but still make time for us…” {Name} explained, stopping to let {Reader} finish. “You also always buy us comfy clothes and stuff for school.. so we thought maybe we could get you something… ya know?”

Kisaki looked between the little twins. They were genuine.

Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time today, Kisaki smiled slightly as he continued to walk down the streets and hold his little brothers hands.

He couldn’t get mad at that could he?… maybe most could, but he himself could not. After all, they were just being dumb kids enjoying their childhood.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥

“Soo…” {Reader} looked at his twin brother mischievously as they sat on their respective beds in their room, as Kisaki had brought them both home half an hour ago. “Did you get it?”

{Name} dug through his pockets.

Grinning, {Name} pulled a shiny [golden]/[silver] watch out of them “hell yeah I did!” {Name} said as he held the watch out towards {Reader} with confidence.

{Reader} reached his hand out in a ‘gimmie’ motion. {Name} immediately threw it at his brother softly.

After catching the watch, {Reader} proceeded to inspect it. “Damnnnnn… this is nice!… though I think we may have to exchange it for something else.. otherwise big bro might recognize it and get upset at us for actually stealing it.”

{Name} nodded, “true.. big brother is pretty smart and observant so he would recognize it if we gave it to him as a gift..”

“So than what do we give him?”

{Name} came up with some ideas and started to speak them out, but he himself or {Reader} immediately dismissed the ideas thinking it was either too much, not enough, or just flat out not a good idea.

“How about we ask Hanma than?” They both exclaimed to the other.

“Jinx!”

“…. It’s gonna keep going like this huh?” They both said, immediately giving up on the whole jinx thing.

“Let’s just go find Hanma to help us.. he’ll probably know what big bro likes” {Reader} said as he pushed himself off his bed.

{Name} followed his brothers steps and pushed himself off of his own bed.

As they both set off to leave the two bedroom apartment and go find the tall male who constantly follows their brother around in hopes that he would know what to get their older brother and caretaker, they both failed to realize that Kisaki had been listening in the whole time after coming back with their frozen dessert.

Although a little peeved about the whole stealing thing, and not really caring if he got a gift or not, he was happy to know that his little brothers were dedicated to getting him something, and thought hard about getting something he’d actually like.

You two, his brothers, are his whole entire world an he cares for you guys, a lot, and he’s very happy to know you guys care about him too.

[nonstoplover]

more moments to remember ~ pierre gasly (pg10)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: pierre gasly x single mom!reader

summary: short stories of happy memories with pierre and his newfound little family | this is pt.2 to this fic, but it can be read as a standalone piece

words: 5.7K

warnings: basically dad!pierre, kid has a name (Austin), pierre with a kid (*-*), mainly only pierre and austin with reader often missing from the scenes sorry not sorry, not betaread

a/n: i became so caught up in the idea of pierre with a kid (my baby fever isn't helping me rn) that i couldn't stop thinking about situations in which i want to see pierre and austin interact, so i just had to write it. also, i got a rb where they said they need more of pierre and austin (same) and it gave me the final push to write it. so thank you kodzusficrec, this is for you <3

tbh i literally cried a lot writing this. yes, pierre himself has this effect on me. especially when he's with a kid.

reader, please don't be a ghost, all feedback is well appreaciated, rb or comment!

taglist: formulapierre

It all starts after a race when Pierre's very first thought is instinctively to call (y/n) and Austin, just wanting to hear their voices before anyone else's. It's only been a week since she agreed to give the two of them together a chance – it took quite a bit of convincing from Pierre's side, but he was always fully determined to achieve his goals, and this time it wasn't any different.

He knows why she hesitated so long, she's been scared that her being a mom already changed everything. It did change things, but only in a good way. Ever since meeting Austin, the little boy has been Pierre's ray of sunshine even on the darker days, even only the thought of him, something (y/n) was probably too scared to notice. Scared that it would only make things difficult, him being a race car driver and them just being... them.

In her mind, he deserves something else, not a single mom with an always over-excited kid. And on the other hand, Austin has already lost one father – though without knowing him in any way –, so the last thing she'd want is for him to experience loss again, in case things didn't quite work out with her and Pierre. Especially since Pierre was his role model in life, his favourite F1 driver. Who knows how bad he would take it if one day Pierre left?

Ever since Austin was born, (y/n) only went out with a couple of guys, and no one stayed long enough for her to introduce them to her son. This was completely new. Still, Pierre's determination and him having a solution and answer to every question or fear she voiced, it all eventually led to her finally agreeing to give it a try.

Now it's been a week, and he's already so absorbed in the small family that the first people he wants to talk to as soon as he gets out of his car is them two. It's a feeling in his chest and his mind that he wants to remember forever. If he could somehow immortalise it, he would.

That's when the thought pops in his head that he should keep a list of things, moments that he never wants to forget – a separate note in his phone's notes app dedicated to (y/n) and Austin.

"What if I fly out tomorrow and we can meet again?" Pierre suggests when he's finally able to FaceTime the young woman.

Her surprised eyes momentarily freeze on the screen due to bad connection, then her almost disbelieving chuckle enters his ears through his earbuds. "You'd want to do that? You have a race weekend next week as well, don't you have to be there soon?"

"I can manage to be with you for a little while," he shrugs with a soft smile on his face – something that is just always there when he looks at her, he can't help it. When he sees the doubt still being apparent in her expression, he's swift to add, "I really want to see you again, coeur."

It only takes this one sentence to melt her resistance – and honestly, she wants to see him just as much, he's proven to be the best company she's had in a very long time, with him life seems better, easier, and way more fun. She feels like a teenager with a crush, experiencing slowly falling in love for the first time, as if she's not a mom already, as if she went back in time to when it was simple just going on dates with nice guys.

It's just that she doesn't want to cause him trouble with having to fly out to her when he has a race so close ahead. But with that sentence and that smile she can't fight it anymore. She simply says okay with a wide grin.

—

The second thing Pierre eagerly types in his special note is when he meets Austin in person again, the first time after that particular race he holds so close to his heart, when he first had the chance to really have a conversation with (y/n) and her son.

She's been reluctant to let the two boys meet again sooner, not wanting to cause unnecessary hurt for her son – she had to be sure things work out with Pierre in the first place, with his hectic schedule and being away so much, she had to be sure that the initial connection they both felt with the other wasn't just some projection of her desires, something she only imagined.

Well, turns out things definitely work out with him, actually a lot better than she could've ever expected it. They have so many things in common, their personalities matching as if it was meant to be.

When Pierre enters the apartment, following her steps, he can feel his heartbeat going fast. It's ridiculous, he hasn't been this nervous even when he met (y/n) for the first time after that race. And he knows the little guy likes him. Why is he so anxious then?

It all disappears though when he stops in the doorway she led him to, the one that leads to the living room, and Austin looks up from his spot on the carpet where he's been playing with toy race cars. For one moment he's just looking without a reaction, but then he springs into action. The absolute joy that appears on his tiny face as his eyes fully take in the driver is enough to calm Pierre down in an instant.

"Pierre came back!" Austin screams, probably directed at his mom who's standing at the side of the room, talking with the babysitter who's just getting ready to leave. (y/n) glances to the side, right at the boy, smiling wide from seeing his happy, excited expression.

The kid jumps up from his spot, leaving the cars behind without a second thought, as if they didn't even exist and he hasn't been in the middle of a race just a couple seconds beforehand, and he rushes towards the man, throwing himself against Pierre's legs, grabbing onto them tight, like he's afraid that if he didn't hold them strong enough, the driver would disappear.

It's such a warm welcome, Pierre can feel his heart filling to the brim with happiness, nearly bursting from it, and suddenly he's not sure if he can ever leave the little boy again – if yes, then it's definitely only for the feeling of getting another welcome similar to this once more when he comes back again.

—

When he experiences a happiness this huge – almost unbearable – again, it's the time he realises he's started to come to (y/n)'s apartment as if it was his too. There's no nerves anymore as he gets closer to the building or the front door, no standing around on the corridor slightly afraid to knock, then waiting for the door to open whilst smoothing out the nearly invisible wrinkles on his shirt.

Now he just gets out of the car and walks inside, calling out her name as he does so to announce his arrival. It's almost like coming home.

And then Austin bursts out of the bedroom, both his small hands full with those toy cars, his favourite toys, telling Pierre to go follow him to the living room because they have a race to do, a rematch to last time's race. He's yet to notice that the man always lets him win, he seems to think Pierre's only good at driving real cars, and not the tiny toy ones.

The man doesn't mind the slightest, he might have a really competitive personality, but as long as he can watch the young kid enthusiastically push around the miniature Alpha Tauri race car Pierre got him – he honestly struggled to see Austin play with a Red Bull and a Mercedes, something that (y/n) found very entertaining – he can actually enjoy coming in second (and last).

That one car actually became the boy's most favourite, most treasured toy, as soon as he tore the wrapping paper off and his (y/e/c) eyes fell on it. "It's like I'm you! I will always win from now on whenever I play with my friends, because it's your car I'm with!" the kid exclaimed, so sure in himself, and out of nowhere Pierre noticed tears blurring his vision.

Anyway, since Austin keeps on winning again and again, whenever he plays with Pierre, his mom or even the babysitter, his conviction has yet to break still.

—

Then comes the very moment that almost makes every happy moment he's ever had in his entire life suddenly seem less thrilling.

Pierre has decided to bring them with him one weekend to the upcoming race – and only had to reason with her for a surprisingly short time. He knows how much Austin would enjoy being in the paddock, and he himself would be more than happy to have the two of them there.

He knows it was the absolute best decision he could've made, not just when he sees the clear, genuine delight on the kid's face as he tries to take in everything around him with wide eyes, but also when he leaves to change into his race suit and comes back to find Austin proudly showing his Alpha Tauri toy car to Yuki. His teammate is smiling contentedly, asking questions from the little boy, with (y/n) watching from the side.

But the best part comes when he takes them around some more, Austin sitting in the crook of his arm so he won't get lost in-between the dozens of people rushing around the paddock and also to make sure that he gets a better view at everything. It's crazy how well the boy fits there, on his arm, as if he was meant to be there – it makes Pierre feel more than delighted, and somehow also very proud.

He doesn't even need to hold the kid with two hands anymore, like he did that very first time he held Austin like this, many moons back, for that first picture taken of the two of them – one that has since been followed by many, many more. Pierre comfortably balances the boy on his arm, his free hand reaching out in search of (y/n)'s fingers so he could intertwine them with his own.

A couple people Pierre knows better around the paddock and who are not in a hurry, approach them on their way and strike a short conversation. Not many people knew up until now that Pierre had a girlfriend – and even less that he even had a kid now.

"And who are you, little boy?" one of them asks, smiling sweetly.

Pierre glances down at the boy's face to see if he'll answer or he has to do it for the kid. "My name's Austin," comes the reply with that adorable self-assured, high-pitched voice Pierre came to adore so much in the past weeks. "I came to watch my dad race."

And this is the sentence that makes Pierre nearly drop the kid. He can hear the small gasp that escapes (y/n) at her son's announcement, and his heartrate is so high he thinks even during the races he's never experienced something like this. Glancing up at the man they've been talking to he notes the surprise in his eyes just as much. It's safe to say none of the three adults here expected such a reply – but Pierre would and will never correct it, or add any further explanation.

It's genuinely one of the most delighted he's ever been. Austin called him his dad.

—

From then on they spend even more time together, Pierre flying out any time he can to be able to be with them, with his son, or arranging for them to come meet him if he really can't get away from his tasks.

And that's how the next addition comes to his special note. One early summer day (y/n) manages to convince the kid to go out to the nearby park instead of playing with his cars at home – only with Pierre's help though. Austin seems to pay attention to his dad more now, dad somewhat taking mom's place in the top position in his eyes, but (y/n) doesn't mind. Not even the slightest bit. Her son finally has a father.

So she helps the boy get dressed, tying his shoelaces carefully so they wouldn't come undone in the predictable running around he would no doubt do. She tells them to go ahead as she locks the door, grabbing the bag she's packed with some water to drink and snacks to have in case they get hungry while out.

She catches up to them on the street, approaching the two while watching gleefully as Austin jumps around, telling some story to Pierre. The driver glances back above his shoulder to check if she's coming and flashes a smile her way when their eyes connect for a couple short seconds before his attention turns back to the kid.

Her hand slips into his immediately – it's become an instinct by now for both of them, and she falls into rhythm with her boys. Pierre reaches out without tearing his eyes away from Austin, grabbing onto the strap of her bag to take it from her, wordlessly insisting that he'll bring it instead of her with the motion of his hand gently pushing away her protesting palm she's held out in front of her.

As soon as they arrive to the park, Austin's off to the playground, befriending the kids already there without a problem – a quality (y/n) has always envied, never being someone herself to make friends easily. But maybe it's simpler for children.

They sit down on a closeby bench, immersing in their own discussion without the kid being there to direct the flow of conversation with his own stories. They talk about the past races and the upcoming ones, her being a Formula One fan since her teenage years helping her knowing quite a lot about the sport and understanding most of the things Pierre shares with her about strategy and about the car itself. And whatever's past her current knowledge, he's always more than happy to explain everything, making sure he speaks understandably but without making her feel dumb for not knowing.

When a couple hours has passed and the time comes to go back home, Pierre calls out Austin's name, the two adults standing up and gathering their bags, (y/n) checking around the bench once more to make sure they don't leave anything there – there was one time a year or so back when she and Aust accidentally left one of his toy cars underneath a bench, and he wouldn't calm down until she rushed back the same way they went home to find it for him, and it's something she never wants to experience again.

As Austin arrives to his parents, his tiny hand reaches up and moves against Pierre's palm, fingers clasping around the man's hand so casually as if that's completely normal – but he's never done it before, and so the naturality of the movement makes it even more special for the driver.

(y/n) turns back towards the boys to find Pierre grinning so wide it reaches from one ear to the other, and all of a sudden she just wants to grab his face and kiss him until they're both out of breath. He's just so amazing. The best father to her son she could've ever asked for, even if he's not the man who actually helped create said boy.

Austin's small fingers press into his skin and Pierre holds the child's hand delicately but tight enough that the connection wouldn't accidentally end by a sudden movement made by either of them. The little boy then turns his head towards his mom, grabbing onto her hand too, and even though Pierre enjoys having her touch on his skin as much as possible, holding her hand whenever they're walking somewhere, right now he doesn't mind at all that he can't do just that.

They're walking home like a real family.

—

When (y/n)'s birthday is coming up and she plans a night out with her best friends, it's the first time Pierre babysits Austin. The first time it's only the two of them. (y/n) didn't want to leave him like that, with a tiring job like that to do, and he even had the option to join her, but eventually he told her that she deserves some time spent with her friends, and her friends only, and since he loves being with Austin so much, it would never feel like a job looking after him.

That's how early in the evening she gently presses a kiss on Austin's head as he's sitting on the couch, then walks to the door with Pierre by her side. She says a quick thank you, for what is probably the hundredth time that day, and he softly shuts her up by capturing her lips with his own.

"I love you, mon chéri, have fun," he mumbles against her lips and feels them curl into a smile before she pulls away, saying back the same three words and moving out the door into the night.

"Okay, kiddo, what should we do first?" Pierre asks as soon as he's back in the living room.

Austin simply points at the controller that belongs to his favourite car race game, and Pierre happily joins the boy on the couch to spend the following hour or so with the two of them racing each other, trying to go faster and faster to gain more points.

When they grow tired, eyes having been focused on the swiftly changing screen for so long, they eat dinner – some leftover from lunch –, then decide to bake a surprise cake for (y/n) for the next day. Aust has a very clear vision about what he wants to make, trying to explain the best he can to Pierre how the cake should be in the form of a Formula One car, and preferably the same colours as an Alpha Tauri one.

It's not easy collecting every ingredient from around the kitchen and pantry, the two boys have to check almost every cupboard and cabinet, Austin sitting on Pierre's arm most of the time to be at the needed height so he can get the things they want.

A recipe is open on Pierre's phone, the screen getting more and more dusty by flour and powdered sugar as they keep on touching it with dirty fingers, right until it gets a bit difficult to read the words of the next step and he has to carefully clean it with a clean spot on the fabric of his already pretty stained shirt.

When the batter is ready, they look at pictures of race car shaped cakes online to use as inspiration and help, but eventually decide that it's way above their cake baking skills so they decide to make a normal, rectangular cake instead, and to only draw a race car on top with the coloured frosting. In the end that becomes quite the challenge all the same, both of them trying their best to make their own drawings – one car each – recognisable, but not being very successful in that, they have to admit.

With the frosting left Austin has the idea to sign the cake (as if we're giving our autograph to a fan, papa!), and they scribble something resembling their names in-between the two terrible-looking cars. Aust has the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he's concentrating deeply to not mess up the letters, having only learnt how to write his name not long ago.

When they're finished and have put the cake in the fridge, they go back to the living room to watch a movie, and even though Austin chose it and has been utterly excited throughout the first ten minutes or so, he gets more and more quiet as time passes, and eventually he falls asleep, his head laid on Pierre's lap. The driver carefully reaches out to grab the folded blanket from the armrest of the couch and covers the boy with slow, gentle movements in order to not wake him up.

(y/n) comes home not much time later, and taking off her shoes she hears some distant noise coming from the living room so she moves that way, thinking she'll find her boyfriend in there. She was right, he's sitting right there on the couch, but as the credits roll on the screen with some soft music playing in the background, his head is leant back against the headrest, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he's fast asleep.

Noiselessly she pulls out her phone from her purse, snapping a photo of her two favourite boys in the world sleeping soundly on the couch, Pierre's hand resting on Austin's shoulder as he still lays on his lap, the little boy's hand wrapped around two of the driver's fingers. It's one of the most heartwarming sights she's ever seen, her boys sleeping so peaceful and contented, completely knocked out.

The picture immediately becomes her new lockscreen, one that would keep on making her smile every time she glances at it – and one that makes a cute blush appear on Pierre's cheeks and neck when he sees it the next morning, but not without a wide smile taking over his features all the same.

—

There soon comes the first time Pierre goes to pick Austin up from school by himself, first of many, and another addition to his favourite memories. As he gets out of the car, he can already hear the kid screaming the word dad – something he still hasn't gotten fully used to, so it still makes his heart skip a beat –, standing just outside the front door, next to his teacher and a couple of other children who are waiting for their parents.

Pierre jogs up the stairs leading to the door, immediately greeting the teacher. The woman smiles at him saying nice to meet you, then Pierre squats down to check if Austin is fully ready to leave, shoelaces tied and jacket properly zipped. He impulsively presses a kiss to the top of the kid's head as his hand grabs the small backpack hanging from Austin's shoulder.

"So you're the famous dad Austin always talks about," the teacher speaks up again, making Pierre look up from his crouching position before straightening himself, a bit of nerves creeping into his bones. "If only half of what he says is true, you're doing a fantastic job," she chuckles.

Pierre's heart feels like bursting. It's the first time he's ever been complimented in the role of a dad. Blood rushes to his cheeks as he murmurs a thank you, averting his eyes in his embarrassed happiness – still the woman can't help but notice how he somehow stands taller all of a sudden, his shoulders squared from hearing her praise.

After saying goodbye, Pierre holds his hand out to signal to his son to grab it and they make their way back to the car, Austin clearly super excited that his dad came to pick him up – he loves it when he can sit in the back with Pierre driving. He always pretends that they're in a Formula One car, racing – and in the end winning, of course. It doesn't matter to him that Pierre doesn't actually go even the tiniest bit above the speed limit. He's an F1 driver and that's all that is important.

Getting to the car Austin climbs into his seat and Pierre fastens the seatbelt carefully around him, making sure it doesn't fall in a place that would make it uncomfortable for the boy, his fingers now moving just as professionally as (y/n)'s did once back in the parking lot next to a race track, with Pierre watching on from her side, not having a clue about what the future held – only hope.

He then moves around the car to sit in the driver's seat, and as he's settling down, just about to start the car, something appears in the corner of his eye – Austin holding out a big piece of paper from his seat in the back towards him.

"What is this?" Pierre asks as he takes it from the boy.

"I made it!" the kid announces proudly. "We had to draw a happy memory we have with our family and I chose this."

Pierre's eyes move from the image of the boy in the rearview to the paper now in his hand and his breath hitches. Obviously it's not a perfect drawing, anyone could see it was made by a few-year-old kid, but it's still easily perceptible what it portrays.

He sees the figures of three people on the colourful drawing, two bigger and one small in the middle, all three holding hands. To their right, there's something that looks very much like his real-life race car, in the background probably a garage at the paddock, with Austin's crooked letters at the top saying Alfa Tauri. Pierre makes a mental note to teach the kid later how the team's name is spelled correctly, but for now he just savours the feeling overtaking him watching the drawn picture.

A happy memory with his family, and Austin chose this.

"Hey, Aust, can I keep this?" Pierre turns around in his seat to look at the boy, already thinking about how it would definitely go on his fridge, somewhere he could look at it all the time and remember this very moment.

"Sure," the boy nods with a serious look in his eyes. "But it has a price."

"Oh yeah?"

"You have to buy me ice cream on the way home and you can't tell mom."

Pierre has to bite the inside of his cheeks to repress the chuckle that's threatening to burst out, expecting nothing less from the kid. "You got it, petit."

He's definitely his mother's son.

—

As the end of the season is slowly coming to an end, Pierre decides to finally make the next move in his relationship with (y/n). One night as they're having dinner in a small restaurant, out on a date night with Austin spending the night with her parents, in the middle of a casual conversation, just as he's listening to her ramble on about the dessert they're sharing and without his eyes ever leaving her (y/e/c) coloured ones he reaches up with one hand, placing something on the table right in front of her.

(y/n) glances down mid-sentence, curious about what he's placed there, and she nearly drops the small fork she's been holding in the air with another piece of the dessert balancing on top, what she wanted to say immediately forgotten. Lightly coughing because she nearly choked on some crumbs, her eyes take in the shiny key with a dark blue ribbon delicately tied around it, with a simple name tag hanging from the end of it saying her name.

"Are you– what–" she mutters, seemingly unable to form a complete sentence.

"Would you move in with me?" Pierre asks as simply and naturally as if he's only asking whether she enjoys the dessert or not.

Her wide eyes are still trained on the key, still somewhat in shock by the sudden turn of events. They haven't even been together for a year and he'd want them to live together? He wants to live with Austin?

"I've been thinking about it for a long time, don't worry, ange, I'm sure I thought about everything," he reasons before she could voice her possible doubts and fears, reading the way her eyes move as an open book and knowing what's going on in her mind. "I truly want you and Austin to be around all the time, without any of us having to fly to somewhere else. It's enough time spent apart that we have to do because of my job, I don't want the rest of the time we could finally spend together having to be wasted away because we live apart."

She honestly feels as if all her vocabulary left her, no words in her mind anymore that she could use to somehow answer him. Her eyes get glossy with tears as a disbelieving grin appears on her lips. Pierre watches on with racing heart as the most beautiful sight unfolds in front of him.

(y/n) nods vigorously, trying to compensate the loss of words with the movements of her head, grabbing the key with slightly shaking fingers. Blinking away the teardrops she looks deep in his eyes, pressing the key to her chest, somewhere above her heart.

"I would love to," she speaks finally when words seem to come back. "And I know that Aust would love it more than anything too."

—

When their one year anniversary comes, they use the next race-free weekend and go for a little getaway trip on the northern French countryside, Austin now spending time with his other grandparents, Pierre's parents in Rouen – the little boy stealing their hearts about five minutes after arriving when Pierre first took his new family home to introduce them during the summer break of last year.

The couple spends the day after their arrival sightseeing in the nearby villages, walking hand in hand and enjoying the feeling of not having to rush anywhere for once, and then they cook pasta for dinner together. Even when they have the chance to eat at restaurants, they rarely do, somehow the act of cooking together is far greater joy for both of them most of the time.

Before sitting down at the dining table right next to the window, with the colours of the gorgeous spring sunset seeping through the lace curtain and pouring onto the table, Pierre pulls out a candle from his bag, placing it carefully on the table and lighting it as (y/n)'s giggles fill the air. "What a romantic soul you are," she remarks joyfully.

"Is it too much?" he glances up from his task grinning.

"Nope, never," she replies with a single shake of her head.

They peacefully eat dinner, a comfortable silence hanging over them for a couple minutes only broken by the jingle of the cutlery mildly hitting the plates with each bite they take of the delicious dish.

"Actually, I wanted to–"

"I think this is the perfect time–"

They start talking at the same time, both of them bursting into a soft fit of laughter when they realise how in sync they really are.

"You go first," Pierre smiles, motioning for her to say whatever she's wanted to just a minute earlier.

(y/n) clears her throat, placing her fork down on the side of her plate. "So, as I was saying, I think this is the perfect time for me to give you something." With that she leans to the side and reaches into her handbag that's been laying on the ground next to the dining table, his eyes following with slight confusion. Didn't they agree on no anniversary gifts?

Without another word spoken, she hands something small wrapped in brown paper to him above the table. Pierre eyes her for a moment, letting his fingers wrap around the object without him actually paying attention to the movement of them, but he can't read anything from her (y/e/c) orbs.

He slowly looks down and starts unwrapping it, right until the paper falls down – nearly landing in his remaining pasta – and he lets out a gasp. In-between his fingers there's a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

"Is this–?" his eyes shot up to her face, now split in two by her absolutely gorgeous grin.

"Yes," she lets out a giggle. "We're gonna have a baby."

"A baby," Pierre repeats in slight disbelief, tears gathering in his eyes.

"You're going to be a father, for real this time."

This sentence breaks him from the trance he's been in and he lets out a cheery whoop, jumping up from his seat and rushing to her side, falling to his knees by her chair. His hands gently grab the sides of her face and pull her in for a heated kiss, the wet, salty stains his rolling teardrops made on his skin brushing against her cheek.

Ever since he became a stepfather to a toddler, he's been dreaming of having his own child with (y/n) – dreaming of how the said child would look like, with her elegant, perfectly shaped nose and his piercing icy blue eyes. And now his dream will actually come true.

Mid-kiss one of his hands leaves her cheek and comes to a rest on her belly, wanting the baby in there to feel a connection with their father no matter how impossibly tiny they still might be. When they break apart in need of oxygen, (y/n) giggles once more, eyes gazing down at the way he's softly pressing his palm into her stomach.

"Austin's gonna be a big brother," Pierre notes dreamily.

"Yes, he will," she replies joyously.

As the driver slowly stands back up again to return to his seat, she speaks up again. "What is it you wanted to say?" Pierre has to force his mind from going a hundred miles an hour from this beautiful piece of news to think back to a couple minutes before, having completely forgotten that he was about to say anything in the first place.

Then he suddenly feels the small box pressing into his thigh inside his pocket and everything comes back to him. "Oh, I actually planned on making this evening special and beautiful and memorable, but I guess you already succeeded in that, mon ange," he chuckles.

Nevertheless his fingers move inside his pocket and he pulls the box out, putting it on the table between them, in the meantime opening it so she can immediately catch a glance inside. Now it's her turn to gasp, her eyes landing on the simple yet dazzling ring nestling inside the little velvety box.

"I wanted to ask you a question," Pierre continues, even though half of his mind is still somewhere else – in the not so far future, his inner eyes picturing himself with a newborn baby in his arms, the young woman, his wife laying on the hospital bed, exhausted and with her hair messy but still looking perfect, smiling blissfully happy up at him. "Mon amour, will you marry me?"

.::the end::.

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

[justalittleobsessedhere]

Parents, Teachers, and Siblings in Heartstopper

Being a little older than the target audience for heartstopper, one of the parts of the show that stuck out to me from the first watch was the presence of the adult figures. In so many teen-focused shows, the adults don't exist and the kids are left to figure it out on their own, or the adults are only there to be some sort of obstacle or challenge to overcome. This makes sense as this is the part of life where we start transitioning from our family units to creating our own communities, but in heartstopper, there is a recognition that these adults still play a role in our lives.

Most people can easily name Nick's mom (aka Sarah Nelson) or the art teacher (Mr. Ajayi) and a lot has been written about them. They serve as real guides for Nick and Charlie respectively. I think the key quality they both share is they are listeners. When Nick and Charlie are there to talk, they put down what they are doing, and they listen. They answer the questions and give advice. They don't tell what to do. It's kind of the opposite of what we think the job of an adult is. It embraces the idea that these teens have reached a point where they have their own experiences and should be trusted to decide their own best way forward.

The one adult who sticks out the most, though, is Charlie's dad, Julio. He's in the show two times, basically as Charlie's chauffeur. But when he's there, he's really there. When he picks Charlie up from Harry’s party, he can see that Charlie is distraught, and what he offers is comfort. The hug and comforting words that he offers to Charlie are so gentle and kind. He doesn’t try to pry the information out of Charlie or fix his problems. When he picks Charlie up from the movies, he can see Charlie is in distress, but again, he doesn’t press. He opens the door for Charlie to share, and, when Charlie doesn’t, he respects the choice and gets Charlie away from the distressing situation. This sort of quiet, loving support shows a real respect and kindness in his parenting.

On the other hand, we see Charlie’s mom once, and it is kind of a non-event if you don’t know the rest of the story. But when you look deeper, you see the seeds of the dysfunction in their relationship. She’s completely oblivious to the obvious emotional tension between Nick and Charlie. Nick is literally standing in the foyer soaking wet without a coat or umbrella. Shouldn’t that register as odd or at least elicit a query if everything is alright? But it doesn’t. Instead, she feels the need to highlight the need to keep their meeting short and then chastise Charlie for not changing out of his pajamas first! It’s subtle but lays the groundwork for the strife to come.

Let’s talk about Tori, too. While Tori is only a year older than Charlie, she plays a big role in Charlie’s life and support system. This is an important positive familial relationship. She can tell when Charlie is going through something, even from him just staring at his bowl, and encourages him to name what he wants for himself. She’s subtle in her warnings and fierce in her need to protect him. This isn’t just typical older sister love. This is genuine care and support, and, as she’s more Charlie’s contemporary, she gets a real insight into why he needs this. Hers is the most informed and necessary adult presence in his life — even if she’s just on the edge of being an adult.

I want to also add Coach Singh briefly. She’s in the background of the action and manages to drop a line here and there. You see her really trying to make him a part of the team with her encouragement. She’s a little more prominent in her support in the comic, but there is one moment in the show that really stuck out for me. When Charlie goes to quit the rugby team, she is truly excited to see him. And when Charlie tells her he wants to quit, she really wants him to stay and asks if it’s the other boys. Charlie doesn’t really notice how she’s trying to help, though. She’s a subtle supportive character that I would guess will have more to say next season… if the comics play out onto the screen.

In conclusion, once again, I am impressed with how much Alice Oseman managed to fit into four hours of amazing television.

[neptunes-curse]

Hi! Can you do Fred Weasley headcannons with a shy! Slytherin reader?

Fred Weasley w/ shy!Slytherin reader headcanons

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please send in some more requests! these are fun :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

so first of all, i feel like you would have met at the beginning of hogwarts

maybe even on the train there, the compartments are all full so you join fred and george in one of them

when he looked at you for the first time, it was basically love at first sight

he thought you were the prettiest person in the world, and nobody could tell him otherwise

he was just staring at you in some kind of lovesick daze and george is sitting there like “are you fucking kidding me and on the first day too”

when you three got to the school, you were up first for the sorting hat.

when you got slytherin Fred’s face just sank

you were very sad too, but you knew you guys would make it work as “friends”

you definitely had a crush on him too, but it was kindove hidden deep down so you didn’t notice it to well at first

throughout the years, Fred would do all of these cute little gestures kindove as a secret way of telling you he loves you

he would sneak into the slytherin common room so you two could hang out, and every single slytherin who saw him do so thought y’all were dating but nobody said a thing about it

that’s why, i’m fourth year, when you two started dating, not a single soul was suprised

everybody thought you guys were really cute, kindove like opposites attract

now when it comes to you two getting togther, i have a couple differant ideas

number one is that it was during some kind of game of spin the bottle/seven minuetes in heaven type thing

when it landed on you, Fred was literally about to scream because he was so happy.

this man had a crush on you for 4 years of course he wants to kiss you

but you were really scared

all the thought running through your head like:

what is he doesn’t like me?

what if this ruins our friendship?

what if i’m a shit kisser?

and that’s all natural, but Fred literally just went straight into it

like my man was not waiting he was READY

and let’s just say he wasn’t bad at all

okay so for number 2, i like to think it was after gryffindor had a really good quidditch match, maybe winning against ravenclaw

he was ecstatic, and you were ecstatic for him.

When he was up on that winning high, he flew over to you in the stands

you two just kindove starred at eachother and you said “good game” and he literally just fucking kissed you. like my man just did it

you were pretty embarrassed, i mean it was in front of all your friends and bascially everyone in the school saw it

(i can just imagine lee announcing like,“Gryffindor has beat ravenclaw! oh and look Fred and Y/n are making out-)

but you really couldn’t help but care

you had realized your crush probably last year and so you were just really happpy that he felt the same

and for number 3, maybe it was just something really cute and simple

there was a dance or something coming up, (think yule ball but more springy) and fred knew he wanted to ask you

like that scene in goblet of fire, he passed a note to you asking if you wanted to go

you said yes of course, re-assuring yourself that he only wanted to go as friends.

oh boy you were wrong

when you two met up at the dance, fred’s jaw quite literally dropped

you were literally stunning, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you the whole night.

when the party started to wind down, fred asked you to dance

now you weren’t very good, but fred was probably worse so it was fine

while you two were dancinung together, fred was looking in your eyes and just had this thought

kindove like “now or never” or setting like that

so he he said he loves you, and you were just shocked

you said it back of course, because who wouldn’t-

moving along then

okay so when y’all were dating, there was the occasional mean person, but it affected you way more than it affected fred.

people would talk about your realationship, saying things like

“why would he date her?”

“she’s so boring, she like, never talks”

“i can’t believe he’s with a slytherin”

the comments would make you get down about yourself, and make you doubt if he really loved you

you often would keep your feelings secret, just bottling them up

but when you came crashing down and would admit what you felt to fred, he already knew

he’d talk to the people who say that, (maybe throw a few punches) but everybody kindove learned their lesson after that

next scene

so at parties, you didn’t really know what to do

you didn’t go out much, but fred was quite the opposite

you would stand by his side, and of course he wouldn’t mind

he liked showing you off to everyone

like yeah, this is my partner, be jealous 🙄

he’d also do a lot of the talking for you

you knew eachother so well, he probably can tell what you’re saying next by just looking at you.

eeeek i love him.

[nburkhardt]

It might seem like Steve isn’t close to his family. But he is, or at least he is to his mom and her side of the family. Ever since he was little, it’s also why his family even lives in Hawkins.

His mother refuses to not have a home in her hometown, her siblings (two; an older brother and younger one) live here still. Her parents still live here, she also has an aunt that lives down the street who is Steve’s favorite person (before knowing Robin or Dustin or Eddie) and Steve has cousins in town either the a few years older or younger than him.

Anyway, point is Steve has family and is close with them. Even if his friends don’t know.

It’s not a secret, his family are busy and they keep in contact as much as possible. His Uncles call weekly, his grandparents host a family breakfast every Sunday. His dad is a workaholic and isn’t in town ever, but his mom? She’s there and a social butterfly, that’s why his house seems empty every time his friends crash over. His baby cousins are why he always acts annoyed about babysitting The Party. He’s the go-to babysitter in the family, his baby cousins absolutely love him.

The only reason none of his friends realize this, is last names. Harrington is his father’s name, they’re the only ones in Hawkins with it.

Nancy obviously met his parents when they were dating, she didn’t get along with his dad at all. She and his mom liked each other. (Because of all the Upside Down problems, she never got to see Family Breakfasts. Then Halloween and well, we all know what happened)

Robin ends up meeting his grandparents after Starcount, they saw the fire on the news and immediately went to his house, hoping he wasn’t at the mall. Obviously that hope is gone the minute they pull into the driveway and find Steve’s car gone. A few hours later, Steve stumbled in with Robin tucked under his arm. They worry and fuss over him all while Robin stands back in near shock. (She’s later included to all family breakfasts, she gets the shock of a lifetime to see which classmates are related to him at the first one)

Dustin, Lucas and Mike unfortunately meet his cousin Andy because of Jason Carver. Andy isn’t close with Steve, not anymore at least. The only reason he found out is when the boys are complaining about it. He doesn’t necessarily tell them immediately about knowing who Andy is. He does confront Andy the next time he’s over at his uncle’s. (The boys only find this out because Andy’s little sister runs straight to Steve while they’re at the arcade)

Max finds out through the boys about Andy. But she also meets his uncle, he’s her primary doctor after what happens with Vecna. Steve was passed out in her room when his uncle came in. (Max found out months later, when she wakes up)

Eddie ends up meet his whole family only three months into dating each other. He’s not shocked to see Andy, having been told by Dustin (kid can’t keep a secret). Eddie is loved by nearly everyone, Andy’s sister won’t leave him alone. Saying “if Stevie likes you, you MUST be cool!” And he’s all kinds of smug about it. Steve’s mom loves him, having already met him when Steve admitted the relationship to her. His grandparents don’t quite understand but they still at least like Eddie and don’t treat him like shit. (They weren’t in town during the whole witch-hunt, steve’s uncles are iffy about him but are polite.)

Much later, Steve’s friends confront him on why they didn’t know. Steve just shrugs and used the different last names line on them. Also tells them his mom can be a lot, ya know?

~~~~~~

A world building experience into if Steve has more family. There’s plot-holes and things don’t quite make sense but this literally started all around “what if Steve was close with his mom?”

For a moment I was gonna make Jason his cousin but decided it’s too on the nose, ya know? Also typed Gareth into being the cousin but that didn’t feel right.

This was supposed to be just a small headcanon 😅