#hope I managed to put what Im trying to convey in words | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tyxoxo · 2 years ago

Text

One Night Only - III.

ch. 1 , ch. 2, m.list

Jeno x fem!reader series

Genre: slow burn, fuckboy!jeno, enemies to lovers/hate fucking fwb! bookstore jeno → model jeno au, 00’ dream + mark + jun (seventeen) character inserts

Words: 7.3k

(future) Warnings: pure filth, jeno is mean, cocky, stubborn, this relationship is extremely toxic (i dont condone, this is pure fiction), unprotected sex, choking, slapping, degrading, spitting, dumbification, dacryphilia, oral (f and m receiving), cum play, envy, mdni!

a/n: i somehow managed to injure myself ㅠㅠ and because of that, i didn’t get a chance to include everything that i wanted in this because im in pain. but dw, i’ve divided it up and ch. 4 is in the works!

Chapter 3

The day felt insufferable. Tuesday just had to be one of those slow days. That, combined with Renjun, Jun, and Mark being out, made you want to jab a pencil through your ear.

Only 5 customers had come and gone since the store opened and that wasn’t enough to distance yourself from Jeno. He had decided to take charge for the day…and instead of doing nothing at the register, he decided to be near you. You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely trying to help you unbox the new book repairs or just have a reason to constantly brush shoulders with you.

You remained silent as you used the box cutter to slice open the large cardboard lids. It sounded quite appealing to use that box cutter on him, maybe just a nick would be enough to fix his behavior.

Surprisingly, he had been quiet just like you, for now…

“So do you live by yourself?” Jeno broke the silence while the two of you bent down to pry open the cardboard boxes.

Yet again you didn’t look at him. You weren’t even sure if you’ve ever seen the exact color of his eyes since you’ve started working here.

“Uhmm…why is that the first question you ask me?” Fucking weirdo.

“Just trying to get to know you.”

“You’ll never get to know me.” You said it louder than expected. You trailed off with a stack of books in your hand, hoping to be faster than him so you could move onto your next task. Naturally, Jeno was right behind you, with his own stack ready to be put on the same shelves you were going to.

Your body felt tense knowing that the two of you were towards the back corner of the store. There was no telling what else Jeno would try to quiz you on.

“Oh, is that what it is? You’re playing hard to get?”

You could see from your peripheral that Jeno had his tongue poking his cheek with a devilish grin to match. There was no point in replying to his nonsensical quips, he would just have another thought up within the next 30 seconds.

“You don’t have to worry, there’s nothing appealing about you.”

It was amazing how much you tolerated his bullshit, although the heat in your cheeks conveyed otherwise.

“C’mon, say something. I’m bored.”

Silence still.

“Still nothing hm? What if I said I was sorry? Would you forgive me for calling you a basic bitch?”

“Over my dead body.” You spat back at him.

You could hear him trying to hide the chuckle brewing in his throat.

Surprisingly, that was the last of the conversation for the next hour. There were still two huge boxes left to open and every now and then Jeno would have to step away and check out someone at the register. Unboxing was a tedious task but it kept your mind busy. If Jeno was an actual decent person, you wouldn’t mind getting acquainted. It didn’t even feel morally right to ask him anything. How would he feel if you ticked him off just like he did you?

“I feel bad for Renjun.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Did you threaten him with his life and force him to be your friend?” You asked with no sense of playfulness behind your voice. You were dead serious.

“We’ve been friends since we were in elementary school. He’s used to me.”

“What do you mean, used to you?”

“He’s the only one that can put up with my bullshit.”

“Clearly.” You scoffed. It was obvious but you just wanted to hear it from him first.

Of course people acted differently at work versus at home but it seemed that Jeno was a straight-shooter no matter who was around.

“I feel bad for myself.”

You resisted the urge to turn your head and face him because of his statement.

“Why?”

“Because I’m here, with you. I’d rather be sick at home.”

“Who the fuck raised you?”

You deserved an answer.

There was a moment that you considered holding your head high to anticipate his response. But all thoughts of courage were ripped away from you as a flurry of wind swirled around your body. You barely had time to raise your hands and resist as your subconscious dispersed your vision for a split second. Jeno’s hands clasped onto your shoulders as he pushed you into the bookshelf behind you, his hands then settling on either side of your head. Your back arched at the harsh contact of the shelf striking your spine, causing your chest to recoil. There were no defense mechanisms you could muster. You felt trapped, but inexplicably satisfied.

You finally met his eyes, for the first time.

They reminded you of burnt charcoal…a dark, endless, loophole of black.

His cool breath hit your lips as his husky voice singed all the way down to your core.

“Don’t you ever question me about my family.”

He bared his teeth as if he was a predator. A predator petrifying its prey. You noticed that his eyes were no longer burning into your own. They had traveled down to your lips.

You weren’t able to process if a customer had seen the two of you in this position: Jeno…pressed against you. Not out of passion, but out of rage.

“You’re finally looking at me. Don’t… move.” He whispered to you now, but his icy breath still laced into your nose with the same intensity. You obeyed him, hoping that he could see that you still had not moved.

Your clasped hands were beginning to give out. Your knees were buckling. Why hadn’t you slapped him already?

Before you could take a breath, Jeno backed away from you as a grunt fell from his lips.

Through your hooded eyes, you saw him storm off to the bathroom. There was a tightness in your chest that you never felt before.

Your knees gave out, causing you to slide down the shelf. The floor seemed like an acceptable resting place for now.

It took every bit of control Jeno had to not grasp your chin and take a bite out of your lips. That bitch…How dare she.

Those that really knew him, knew to never bring up his family.

“You’re not worthy to be my son anymore.”

Picturing his pig father spit those words made venom pool in his mouth.

It was the same scene that played in his mind during those nights in his room. Knowing that his mother never stood up for him, instead retreating back to watch her husband disparage their only child.

He would make sure your filthy mouth never crossed that line again. All you needed was to be brought down to your knees, and taught how to take a mouthful of cock. It was the perfect way to shut you up.

Jeno shook his head of his intrusive thoughts. It was excruciating how tight his jeans were beginning to feel knowing that you were probably in shock from his treatment. Meeting eyes with you for the first time, seeing that pitiful look on your face. He craved to see that again. You reacted in a way that made him feel like he owned every bit of you.

It didn’t help that Jeno had been practically bitchless for 2 weeks. To others that was standard but to him, it was unacceptable.

A splash of water to the face was enough to cool him off but he was faced with another problem: he had a very visible boner.

He could have tried to stay in the bathroom for a few more minutes but something told him that you were going to be found by a customer and taken away to an urgent care clinic.

“Fuck my life…” Jeno sighed into his hands. Invisibility would have been perfect for this moment as his sense of clairvoyance was predictable. Once he opened the door, you were still slumped against the shelf. A customer was tending to you, patting your forehead with a tissue.

“Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?” You hoped the elderly lady beside you had no idea what happened.

“I’m fine. The books were just too heavy.”

You would just have to use the disheveled floor to your advantage. Surely it seemed that you tried to carry way more than you could handle which caused your body to give out. Atleast, that’s the picture you painted for this caring customer.

“Are you sur-”

“I can help her. I’ll make sure she rests and gets something to drink.”

You couldn’t hide the staggered look on your face. Jeno had appeared on the other side of you, crouched down with his hand on your shoulder; a sizzling afterburn from where they were moments before.

“Here, take this. This should be enough to get her a bottle of water from the store nearby.”

She definitely didn’t see what happened.

How could anyone forget a snake like Jeno, trapping you within his broad frame?

He smiled and reached his hands out to decline the money she offered. You had never seen him smile before. Although he tried to hide his true intentions, seeing his lips turn upwards in a closed-mouth grin was an image you would never forget.

“Thank you for your concern.”

The elderly lady finally gave in. Once she was far enough away, you managed to see through your faltering vision that Jeno’s smile flipped completely. He had that lethal look on his face again.

“Get up.” Jeno’s voice resonated through you. You winced at how tight he squeezed your arm to drag you over to the tables nearby.

“That hurts!” Before you could protest some more, you were already seated. He didn’t even bother saying sorry.

You watched as he returned to where all the books were: you must’ve not heard them drop before he practically manhandled you against the shelves.

Jeno began to gather the books into a single pile while crouched down. You found it strange how stiff he looked while trying to put them on the top shelf.

Was he really that stumped from eye contact? It couldn’t be that. This was “vain Jeno” you were referring to.

One rub of your eyes was all it took to see a tent in his jeans. But a second one was needed for good measure.

The best thing you could do was pretend you were blind. Your eyes immediately fell down to look at your hands.

You had given up your seat at the table a long time ago so you could cover for Jeno while he went to lunch. The only indicator being that he ripped off his badge and stormed outside.

4:45pm

[renjun]: is jeno being nice?

It took you a second to realize that Renjun had indeed texted you. The two of you hadn’t exchanged numbers yet.

[you]: how did you get my number?

[renjun]: i asked mark for it, hope you don’t mind. something just told me that i needed to check on you.

[you]: aren’t you sick? why don’t you rest

[renjun]: thanks for ignoring my question. i’ll just bug jeno later.

Renjun’s sense of perception intimidated you.

There was only about 2 hours left until the end of your shift. It had been excruciatingly awkward since Jeno blindsided you earlier. He kept his distance but if that was only because of his boner, that was a testament to your worth.

You prayed the Mark would be back tomorrow.

One Month Later

“Hey, i’ve been meaning to tell you that there’s a new optical illusion museum that opened up in Seocho. I don’t have anyone to go with, would you be interested?” Renjun asked while the two of you were side by side attaching a huge banner to the ceiling that read “NEW ARRIVALS: Historical Fiction, Military Fiction, and more!!”

“Oh, that sounds cool! When do you want to go?”

“I was thinking this weekend? Does that sound good?”

“Yeah that should work. I haven’t been doing anything interesting lately.”

“Same here. Let’s aim for Sunday!” Renjun said while fanning the banner to get out the wrinkles.

If this was anyone else besides Renjun, you would’ve declined the invite. But the two of you had gotten quite close within the month of meeting each other for the first time. You considered Jun cool too but he spent too much time with Jeno on the clock; so he was a hit or miss most days.

It comforted you knowing that Renjun knew that you and Jeno still weren’t on good terms. You were definitely the more mature one as you didn’t want to ditch Renjun just because he and Jeno were childhood best friends.

Jeno had stopped antagonizing you ever since that Tuesday. There was no teasing, smart remarks, eye rolling, nothing. You knew he was a womanizing edgelord but you never thought he would have a chance to get that close to you. You figured that if nature versus nurture was in his favor, maybe he would’ve turned out different. There was obviously something that wounded him in the past.

“I'm open to whatever time just-.”

“Come down guys. I have a very important announcement!” Mark's clap accompanied with his interruption nearly scared you off the ladder. Luckily, it wasn’t that high of a drop if you did manage to fall.

“Ahhh, Mark you scared me!” Renjun exclaimed as he hung his head low.

You, Renjun, Jun, Jeno, and Mark were all circled around in the back of the store. Mark had a huge grin on his face as he stood and faced the 4 of you.

“I just wanted to tell you all that I have been extremely pleased with your guys’ performance. Lately, we’ve been picking up the pace with a lot of new arrivals and book signings, but that doesn’t stop you all from really outshining our competitors. I wanted to show my appreciation by hosting a dinner at Cornerstone tomorrow night at 7:30pm. You are not obligated to come but I highly recommend it. They have amazing Italian food and I'm paying for everyone’s meal!”

From what you could see, the 4 of you didn’t really have much of a reaction until Mark’s last sentence. Renjun and Jun’s mouth even dropped. You were quite shocked as well. That restaurant was located in Gangnam: one of the richest and most upscale districts in Seoul. You nearly fainted at the fact that casual dress probably wasn’t allowed there.

“Wouldn’t that be expensive though?” Renjun asked while biting his lip. It seemed he was thinking the same thing you were.

“I’m down. It’s free food.” Jun shrugged while giving Renjun a “don’t mess this up for us” expression.

“Jeno, you coming?” Mark signaled him out, most likely because Jeno was usually busy on the weekends with some girl. Everyone was aware of that.

“Since you’re paying, yeah. But I'm not going to stay and chat.” He scoffed while blowing a strand from his bangs out of his face.

“Fair enough! It’ll be at 7pm. No such thing as fashionably late! You guys can resume. I hope you all consider coming.”

“Do you still feel like going to the museum? I would just feel bad if you had to see my face that much outside of work.” Renjun whispered to you while everyone went back to their designated areas.

“Nooo it’s fine. I need more to do with my weekends anyways!”

“Okay good. Thank you for agreeing to hang out.” Renjun bowed with clasped hands.

“Of course!”

There was no reason to be this stressed over an employee dinner. It was currently 5pm and you still hadn’t chosen an outfit.

Searching up pictures of the restaurant didn’t help: it looked expensive just like you imagined. Luckily, you had a few items of clothing that could fit a fancy dining place. It was just a matter of putting together what matched.

You opted for something simple and monochromatic to blend in easier; nothing too flashy nor too plain. Plus, whatever you could do to remain invisible to Jeno, the better.

By the time you showered, washed your face and did your hair, it was already 6:30pm. You were cutting it too close. It took 45 minutes to travel via subway from Hongdae to Gangnam. Taxiing was a faster but more expensive option that you didn’t feel like taking.

“Shit…” you exhaled while rushing out the door with your wallet, keys and phone. The brutality of the winds outside shocked you down to your bones. By the time you realized there was an overcast, you were already boarded on the train to Gangnam.

You felt alienated in this part of Seoul. It wasn’t often that you could visit or sight-see, especially with your salary. Even the people on the train were dressed to impress, but considering it was an incoming Saturday night, there were bound to be people with their own expensive weekend plans.

Walking the 10-minutes from the subway station was half the battle considering the harsh winds. Leaves constantly blew up against your ankles causing you to skip along the crosswalk.

Your phone read 7:29pm by the time you made it to the doors. You hoped and prayed that they weren’t already seated.

It was quite packed inside but that didn’t stop you from observing the interior. There were so many different variations of glass vases placed around, all filled with onyx stones and lillies. Dainty fairy lights hung from the ceiling with a crystal chandelier in the middle. Every table was a polished acacia wood with red velvet booths and chairs.

You were definitely only ordering an appetizer.

Your guilty thoughts of hurting Mark’s bank account was cut short by a hostess that walked up and greeted you.

“I’m looking for a party of 4 under the name Mark Lee?”

“Yes, right this way, miss.” The hostess led the way towards the back, with a runway walk that must’ve been so exhausting to execute during her entire shift. It made you feel self conscious about how poor your posture was.

Mark must’ve lucked out with being able to score a table in the very back that was away from the noisier areas.

To your dismay, everyone was there before you…including Jeno. You technically weren’t late, just right on time.

“Last one to show up eh?” Mark smiled while getting up from his seat. You almost stopped in your tracks from seeing him in a suit. You were only used to seeing him in a white crew-neck with the sleeves always bunched at his elbows, a green apron, blue jeans and tennis shoes.

“I’m so sorry.” You bowed to him as he did to you.

“I’m just teasing. We haven’t even ordered yet, just waters and champagne.” He said while pulling back the chair for you to sit.

Fortunately, you were seated in between Renjun and Jun, with Mark and Jeno on the other side of the table. Your breath hitched in your throat at seeing Jeno. He kept his head down, presumably to text on his phone, not once to look up at your arrival unlike the others. He had a pained look on his face but you had to admit that he looked good. His furrowed brow causing a lump in your throat.

His forehead was showing, which was a first for you to witness. His hair was slicked back, his bangs heavily pomaded. He wore a tucked white t-shirt, rustic-suede jacket, belt, black skinny jeans, and black chukka boots. The only reason you were able to tell what he wore from the waist down was because of how low the table was.

Renjun sported something similar to Jeno but with a black suede jacket and beige oxford shoes.

Jun adorned a black long-sleeved dress shirt, dark blue cuffed jeans, and brown chelsea boots.

“Now that everyone’s here, I can give a proper thanks.”

Renjun cleared his throat to get Jeno off of his phone. It worked.

You watched as he raised his head up slowly before pinching the bridge of his nose. He was irritated with something, probably with the idea of being stuck here.

“As you all know, my parents are entrusting me with ownership of the store. They’re getting close to retirement age so I do have some pressure on my shoulders with taking over but because of you all, I’m able to see through to an ever growing future.”

Mark always astounded you with his way with words. You figured he was young when you first met him but when Renjun confirmed that he was only 23, it explained everything. He had a young yet sovereign spirit.

“I know that you all have your own aspirations and ventures and I don’t expect you all to stay with me forever so why not make a toast to the present? This dinner is for you guys.” Mark beamed while raising his champagne glass for us to follow along.

Who knew that a job at a bookstore would lead to an extravagant dinner hosted by your young, rich, boss?

“Cheers.” The 5 of you said while toasting each other's glass.

A few moments later, the server stopped by and took everyone’s order. You ordered an appetizer, just like you had planned. The same couldn’t be said for Renjun, Jun, and Jeno though.

“I don’t want this dinner to just be about me. Let’s do a round table of everyone’s future plans. Renjun, how about you start?”

This was one way to pass the time waiting on food but it was also nerve-wracking at the same time. You didn’t really have an intricate answer. Even Renjun was caught off guard by the question; his eyes scanning wildly out of control.

“Uh-uhmm. I’m not too sure yet. I’m really happy working at the bookstore. If anything, I want to become a vet tech but we’ll see.”

“That sounds cool. How long is the schooling for that?” Mark asked after taking a sip from his champagne glass.

“Just 2 years at any technical school. That’s better than the 4 years my parents wanted me to do. They weren’t too happy with me not wanting to do university.”

“Makes sense! I hope it goes well for you.”

“Thank you.” Renjun said while graciously bowing in his seat.

“Alright, you’re next.” Mark pointed his glass to you. But you were going to try to dodge this as best as you could.

“I’m not too sure yet either. Jun you’re up.” You covered your eyes at how much you failed to get the attention off of you.

Everyone but Jeno chuckled. You were curious if Mark would try to pester you or leave it be.

“I get it. Don’t worry, I won’t force an answer out of you. But yes, Jun your turn.”

Before Jun could speak, the server came with a tray of everyone’s food. You thought you were familiar with Italian cuisine but judging by how grande these dishes looked, you were wrong. There was no way you could accurately name them. Based on what knowledge you had, you could only recognize Jeno’s dish as carbonara.

Your appetizer was a decent sized portion considering fancy restaurants were usually skimpy on the amount of food given. Everyone began to dig in, undoubtedly hungry since it was around 8pm. You tried your best to keep your eyes glued to your plate but every now and then your eyes would scan Jeno.

How could he possibly not have a headache from how tight his brows were pulled together?

Even the way he ate seemed so mad. He attacked his plate with his titanium chopsticks. Maybe he was just hangry…

Jun continued the round table after taking a few bites from his plate of food. You smiled to yourself seeing Renjun chew his food; every now and then he would pat his own cheek to remind himself not to smack.

“I plan on moving to Germany. I’ve always been so immersed by their language and culture. I guess they’re offering a lot of editorial jobs for authors there.”

Everyone’s eyes got big at his revelation.

“Wow! I had no idea. How long have you been learning German?” Renjun asked while wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“Ever since I graduated high school. So for 8 years now.”

“Could you say a few words for us? If you don’t mind?” Mark asked with a look of amazement on his face.

Jun began talking in German with ease, so fast that you couldn’t tell where the sentences ended and began. Even though you couldn’t understand, you clapped along with the others.

Jun smiled while putting his hands together, bowing twice.

“That’s amazing. Well, certainly don’t give up Jun!” Mark said while the rest of you nodded in agreement.

“Okay, nice guy. Your turn.”

You should’ve pretended to choke on your drink at Mark’s title given to Jeno.

Jeno ignored Mark, choosing to eat his food at a quicker pace. Renjun sighed.

“Jeno?” Mark addressed him in a more subdued tone of voice.

“What?” That was the first word Jeno spoke since you’ve been here. You couldn’t tell the exact nature of his mood from the simple “what” because of the amount of food in his mouth.

“I’ve overheard about your modelling endeavors a couple of times. How’s that going?” Mark attempted to approach the conversation in a way that would get Jeno to open up. You weren’t sure if it would work.

But, modelling?

You were definitely not around when this was discussed at work. Maybe it was before you got there.

Jeno put down his chopsticks after taking his last bite of food. He sat back in his chair, patting down his jacket.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten a few offers here.”

“Oh okay. How soon until you leave us then?” Mark asked with a raised brow.

“It depends.”

You wanted to hear more but he was keeping his responses short.

He indeed had the face, the height and the physique to pull it off. You just hoped that whoever gave him a chance never got to witness his personality, unless maybe he got his shit together by then. The table felt a bit awkward now that everyone was finishing up with their meals. The clacking of utensils couldn’t fill the silence anymore. All of the champagne was gone, and no one seemed like eating dessert.

“I hope to see you on billboards someday, Jeno.” Mark winked while signing off on the bill. Out of respect, you kept your head down so you couldn’t see the price. It was best you didn’t know.

“How’s everyone getting home? Just thought I'd ask since it’s quite dark out.”

“I live in Jongno but the station is only a 5-minute walk. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the food.” Jun said while gathering his keys and phone.

“You’re welcome! What about you two? I’m assuming you all are leaving together?” Mark directed his attention to Jeno and Renjun.

“Ye-”

“No. I need to go to the store.” Jeno cut Renjun off to his dismay. You noticed how he darted his eyes towards Jeno, obviously bothered by that decision.

“You can’t just wait until tomorrow?” Renjun asked in a frustrated tone.

“No. Thanks for the dinner Mark.” Jeno lazily saluted Mark and stood up from his seat, already making his way to the front.

“Anytime! What about you?”

“I have about a 10-minute walk to the station.” You said while gathering your belongings.

“Are you okay to travel alone?” You really didn’t mind. Seoul’s crime rate wasn’t a cause for concern.

“Yeah, I’m good! I actually like walking at night.” You made sure your voice sounded more confident so Mark wouldn’t get any ideas about escorting you home.

“Okay! Well, I appreciate you guys coming. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

Once you all made it to the front entrance, everyone collectively sighed. The wind was still just as angry as it was an hour ago.

You noticed that Mark, Jun, and Renjun had reached for their umbrellas that were in a caddy underneath a coat rack. Jeno must’ve already walked out.

One look at the weather app was all it took for you to curse under your breath: the forecast showed heavy rain within an hour. You were the only one not prepared.

“See you tomorrow at noon right?” Renjun nudged your arm as everyone exited to go their separate routes.

“Yep! See ya.”

You were shit out of luck thinking you could make it home before it rained. As soon as you got a far enough distance from the group, it began to pour.

If you hadn’t rushed getting out the door, you would’ve remembered to grab your umbrella out of your shoe closet.

This was the longest 10-minute walk of your life.

Although the neon lights from bars and restaurants reflected nicely off the pavement, you weren’t able to see much else around you. The heavy droplets hitting your eyelids felt too much like hail.

Jeno had managed to go to a nearby convenience store to grab a pack of condoms. For some reason that couldn’t wait until tomorrow like Renjun suggested but he figured since he was already dressed nicely, he might as well visit a new girl he began talking to just yesterday.

He managed to get her number within 3 minutes at the grocery store yesterday. Easy.

However, it wasn’t easy planning the hookup. She seemed indecisive, which was why he looked so irritated at the dinner. When he offered to show up, she brought up an excuse.

[grocery store girl #3]: well, i have a roommate

[jeno]: and? we can try to be quiet

[grocery store girl #3]: plus, my roommate has a large dog, wouldn’t that be an issue

[jeno]: no. do you want me to come over or not? why not my place?

[grocery store girl #3]: no it’s raining. come to me instead

[jeno]: i’m gonna stop by the store and then i’ll be there in 10

She was hot, but she was being difficult. At this rate with the weather, he might as well give up. But he was lucky to snatch her that day. He’d gone a month without sex. That was considered taboo.

She conveniently lived in Gangnam to which he automatically assumed she was part of the higher class demographic. Luckily, he brought along an umbrella so he could still scan the GPS on his phone. The “Maps” told him to cross the street at the next light as her apartment was situated on the left side of Apgujeong road.

The streets were still roaring with cars and people skipping along with their umbrellas. Once in a while a passerby would look up and stare at Jeno; how his long legs looked in his black skinny jeans, how he walked with such determination.

Jeno had to stop himself from freezing in the middle of the crosswalk. There in the distance on the left side, he saw you.

No umbrella, no coat…rushing to get home.

What a fucking idiot…

The forecast clearly showed a rainstorm that would last all night.

He thought of leaving you there to get drenched in the rain. Not like you would be able to see him walk past you anyways. After all, he had a girl waiting for him.

A scream erupted from your throat from feeling a tug on your shoulder. Without even seeing who touched you, you swung your arms in a feeble attempt to defend yourself.

“Hey, chill out! It’s me!”

The voice came from Jeno?

“You scared me! Say something next time!”

Once you were able to contain yourself, you saw him. Of course, he had an umbrella and you didn’t.

“I did! You couldn’t hear me.” He spoke loudly to combat the raindrops that sounded too much like firework poppers.

“Oh. Sorry. Well what do you want?”

You made sure to sound annoyed. You saw how he looked at the dinner and the last thing you needed was his bad juju to engulf your already crappy night.

“Do you want me to walk you home?”

Your body tensed up. This proposition seemed unheard of coming out of his mouth.

“Y’know what. Forget it.”

He began to stomp along the pavement, leaving you as a statue amongst the storm.

“No! Wait! Yes, you can.”

He stopped and turned slowly, with one hand in his pocket and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He kept his head down as he stepped up to you.

He outstretched his arm, giving up his umbrella without another word; getting drenched in the process.

“We can share. Don’t do that.” You wrapped your hand around his wrist that was holding onto the umbrella. His brow furrowed at the skin contact, but you figured it was from your cold, wet hand.

You stepped under the umbrella and the two of you began walking to the nearest subway terminal.

“Do I need to give directions or are you familiar with how to get to Hongdae from here?”

“No, I’m familiar. Can we just take a taxi? It’s gonna take fucking forever if we take the train.”

Since he had control over the umbrella, you both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as he looked down at you, waiting for your answer. This was only the second time that the two of you held eye contact for this long. You remember the last time being a complete heart-stopper. The way his black eyes scanned your face waiting for a response made your lips quiver. You could just mentally blame it on the temperature outside.

“Yeah, le-let’s take a taxi. I’ll call one.”

“Have them come to this bar over here.”

Jeno pointed over to the nearby bar still teeming with customers. It was better to sit in there than on the wet ledges outside. The two of you continued to stand in the middle of the sidewalk, splitting the wave of oncoming pedestrians while you called.

“They said they’ll be here in 15-minutes.”

Jeno led the way to the bar, shaking his umbrella free of the excess rain once you all made it to the front entrance.

This all felt so strange. You still had a ways to go until you got home, yet here you were, with Jeno. There was no way he would go the entire distance. He would surely give up if this taxi took longer than 15 minutes to show up.

“Are you okay?” You asked while the two of you sat at the bar. It was crowded but you didn’t have to talk too loud for him to hear you.

“Why do you ask? Are you upset that I’ve directed my attention to someone else other than you?”

He totally misinterpreted your question.

Why did you even bother asking?

“Who’s someone else?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell that you’ve dragged this on for too long.”

“I never tried to lead you on. You’re just delusional.” If it was true that he was done aggravating you, then why did he have to announce that? Why was that so important?

“Why were you being disrespectful during the dinner? Being on your phone instead of being a part of the conversation?”

“Don’t ask me questions. It’s none of your business. Plus the last time you asked me something, I made you light headed. So I suggest you tread lightly.”

“I can handle you just fine…” Jeno knew you couldn’t. The lies you told only fueled his ego. If he had it his way, you wouldn’t be able to come into work for a week.

You swallowed that familiar lump in your throat when you saw him shake his head and smirk.

Tonight would only get worse from here.

The rest of the time spent at the bar and the cab ride was mostly quiet. You got plenty of looks from strangers. It made you wonder if they thought you and Jeno were dating. You felt off-color for even thinking such a thing. Jeno did fit the model archetype. It was only right for him to be with someone of the same standard. Hell, he looked like he belonged in Gangnam, as opposed to you.

The taxi was definitely the smarter option, a huge 20-minute difference. You were more than ready to get home, shower, and set your clothes up to dry in the bathroom.

“My apartment is just up here.” You pointed up to your home that was situated on a hill. Jeno didn’t respond, only following behind this time as you led the way to the lobby and then up the elevator to the 5th floor.

You felt a sense of impending doom. The amount of awkwardness that would flood your entire front porch once it was time for him to leave would no doubt drown you. It didn’t feel right to say “goodbye” or “see you later.” Not even a “thank you” seemed appropriate.

You didn’t know how far he lived from here but you figured he would curse at you in his head for having to walk you home, just because you didn’t bring an umbrella. For him to go the entire trip, meant something to you. He could’ve just left you once you got in the taxi. And he definitely could’ve left you in the lobby.

Come to think of it, why was he going up the elevator with you?

There was no way he was “gentleman” enough to walk you all the way to your front door too?

The “ding” of the elevator reaching the 5th floor snapped you out of your raging thoughts. You walked out, he followed.

You had your key ready in hand to open the door to your place. You made it home…finally. There was no amount of confidence you could dig up to face him and say thank you, so you chose to look down at his chest instead.

“Thanks for walking me home.” Your voice trembled again. This happened every time the two of you were alone; it was getting old now.

“You suck at eye contact, you know that right?” Jeno blurted out, completely disregarding your gratitude.

You froze.

“Why is that huh?”

You tried to ignore the rasp in his voice that undoubtedly made your hands sweat.

He took one step forward. You stood in place.

“I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about you. It pisses me off actually.” He whispered.

He took another step forward. This time, his eyes peering at your parted lips, your chest touching his.

The moment you decided to look up at him, he backed you against your door. His arms were on either side of your head. This felt all too familiar.

To an outsider, it would seem that you were readying your clenched fist for a punch. But you were trying your hardest not to kiss him.

The man that always gave you hell.

“What is there to think about?”

You challenged his words.

You didn’t expect Jeno to answer so quickly. On the contrary, the world was still in slow motion as he lowered his head to your level, leaning in further.

“I could corrupt you…and you would thank me for it.”

Your hand clenched your key card so hard that it felt like it was leaving permanent indentations in your palms. Your stomach felt like it dropped to the floor. Jeno’s eyelids fluttered close, covering his pitch black irises.

His pride would be the death of him.

The only action that seemed right in this tortuous game of fight or flight was flight.

Your head turned at just the right moment before his lips made contact with yours, his nose grazing your cheek in the process.

There wasn’t an explanation for why you denied the kiss. Judging by the way he sighed, you figured he was forever done with you.

He stepped back, swiping his thumb along his nose.

You told yourself that you wouldn’t collapse like last time. You would hold your ground and leave him be.

He walked away, like it was nothing. Like you were nothing.

In a daze, you used your key card to unlock your door. There was still a bit of determination left in you to freshen up after being drenched in rain for the past hour.

If you only knew that Jeno would never let you go now.

He’d never been rejected before.

A part of him knew that you would turn your head away from him, but seeing it in real time confirmed that you were different.

This was the first time he ever held his head down in shame. Maybe he did when he was younger but of course he couldn’t recall that.

He felt lost. He needed to gain that control over you again. There just wasn’t another window of opportunity he could imagine besides right now.

By the time Jeno made it outside, there was something inside him that told him to go back up and knock on your door. He twirled his folded umbrella at his hip, opting to let the raindrops cover his body and drown his desertion.

With a quick turn of his heel, he power walked back into the lobby and towards the elevator.

It felt nice to finally sit down in your living room. You felt mentally exhausted from tonight's events but you managed to pull enough energy to set your wet clothes up in the bathroom, dry off your body, brush your teeth and put on pajamas.

The rain had finally calmed down but it was still pleasing to see how the last remaining drops fell down the patio door behind your couch.

Your mind was trying hardest not to linger back to Jeno’s attempt at kissing you. There wouldn’t be another chance like that again. But a part of you wondered why you were regretting letting him walk away.

“I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about you. It pisses me off actually.”

He couldn’t have meant that. It wasn’t plausible. Time and time again he would entertain why you were so uninteresting, so average, so simple.

While scrolling through the streaming service to select a movie, you jumped from hearing two knocks at your door. Luckily, your electric diffuser wasn’t loud enough to drown it out.

You were light on your feet approaching the door, making sure to check through the peephole.

It was Jeno.

The dead giveaway was his suede jacket, but by the looks of it, he looked completely soaked.

He had an umbrella so why wasn’t he using it?

It didn’t take much deliberation in your head on whether or not to open your front door.

Jeno’s head rose from looking at the floor, his slicked back bangs not holding steady anymore due to the rain. The leftover drops on his plump lips caused you to pause mid-swing from opening the door. His umbrella was hung low at his side with the loop handle intertwined in his left hand.

It didn’t seem like he was ready to talk, despite his eyes staring deep into yours.

“Why did you come back?” Your eyes scanned for an answer, but there was only deafening silence. The pause after you spoke seemed to last a few minutes.

You briefly turned to push more of your door open so it wouldn’t close behind you.

Your steps felt way too calculated for what you wanted to do; everything else way too sporadic.

Stepping up to him for once in your life wasn’t as debilitating as you thought it would be. The courage you managed to bring forth, empowered you enough to stand meters away from him.

Jeno didn’t falter. He didn’t step back or curl away. His eyes followed your every move, finally settling at your lips again.

The drop of his umbrella was the last thing you could recall before connecting your lips to his.

#nct dream fanfic #nct dream fanfiction #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno smut #nct dream x reader #feedback is appreciated <3

298 notes · View notes

mybiasisexo · 2 years ago

Text

Entangled - Part 6

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader

Chapter Warnings: Language | Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 6.6k

Author Notes: Firstly, happy belated birthday to the loml 😔 *plays Virgos groove by Beyonce*. Sorry for the delay y'all, its that time of year🚶🏾‍♀️. It feels so good to have yeollie back! Im eager for his solo! But yes, its finally D-Day!!!! Myeon is getting married y'all!!! (in the story not irl....unless 👀) Ive learned that establishing setting is not my forte, hopefully y'all can pick up what im putting down.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you like the chapter 😊💕

“I can’t do this.”

The words brought you to an abrupt stop in the middle of the busy sidewalk. People brushed past you, sucking their teeth in annoyance, but you didn’t notice them. You didn’t notice anything as you stared blankly at the ground.

“What?” A tall figure loomed over you, long bowed legs obscuring the gum covered sidewalk. He let out a chuckle. “We’ve only looked at one apartment. But, if you’re tired, it’s okay. We don’t have to look at any more today. I’ll reschedule.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Your eyes fell shut as your head began to pound. You started rubbing your temples to try to relieve the sudden pain. It gave little relief. A whimper left your mouth, the small noise caught the man before you’s attention. He took a step closer, the small action had you feeling claustrophobic, like walls were closing in on you, despite being out in the open. Your throat and eyes were burning, chest constricting painfully. These reactions weren’t new. No. You had been feeling like this for weeks. The best way you could describe it was as though you were being pulled deep into the sea. Being dragged along against your will. The current was too strong for you to swim out of, and you were choking, drowning, panicking….

It felt like you were dying.

Inhaling deeply, you worked up the courage to look up at your fiance. He met your gaze, caught the tears shining in your eyes, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. That confusion quickly turned into concern once he registered your distress.

“Chanyeol, I….” Your voice gave out, cutting your confession short. Instead, you shake your head, hoping that was enough to convey your conflicting emotions.

“Baby?” His hand wrapped around yours, the one with the band that represented your forever.

The happiest you’ve ever seen Park Chanyeol was the moment he slid that engagement ring onto your finger. The way he couldn’t help but smile whenever he caught sight of you wearing it never went unnoticed. “What’s wrong?”

You were pretty sure you were having a panic attack. The pain in your chest only grew, made it so hard to catch your breath you began to gasp. The effort collected onto the corner of your eyes, spilling over onto your cheeks in hot streaks.

It was too late now.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Chanyeol’s eyes bounced back and forth between your own as he nervously rubbed his lips together, stretching them into a line so thin, you no longer could see the pink flesh.

“I don’t think we should do this,” you managed to gasp out. There it was, now out in the air. You took him in, wearily awaiting his response to your words.

“Oh….” He visibly deflated, and for a second you thought he understood what you were saying. But, he perked up immediately. His optimism made you sigh in dismay. “You can just move in with me! We don’t have to get a new apartment. I just assumed–”

“Chanyeol!” You yelled, shutting him up. Your once flaccid fingers gripped his tightly. He winced, but didn’t attempt to pull away. If anything it allowed him to focus more on you.

“Please,” you begged hoarsely. “I…I don’t want to marry you!”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The whole world froze for an immeasurable time, you swore even those around you stopped moving as well.

He just….gawked at you. As though he heard your words, but couldn’t fully make out what they meant. You could see the wheels turning in his head, replaying what you said over and over until they gained meaning. It took some time, but soon his eyes began to flutter and his chest expanded, inhaling a ragged breath. While he breathed in, you exhaled.

You were worried you had broken him there.

“You don’t…? Marry…? I….”

With wide eyes, you silently encouraged him, in the hope that he put two and two together.

“I don’t understand.”

“What is there to not understand?” You asked, frustration sharpening your words. “I don’t want to marry you anymore, Chanyeol.”

“But–but why?”

His heart was starting to break, the situation fully dawning on him. It’s a devastating sight, watching him realize he’s about to lose the love of his life. You wanted to look away, to avoid the pain that would come from the weight of his anguish. Seeing his suffering was just as wounding as if he were the one to break up with you instead. But, you had to push more, had to shove the knife a few inches further so that you could kill this completely.

“I’m not ready. I thought I was, I really did, but I need to be alone–”

“Alone?” He spat out the word, as though that weren’t a part of his vocabulary, which you imagined it weren’t. “But you love me? Why do you want to leave?”

Your lips shook so much it grew difficult to speak. “That’s not enough. I wish it was, but it isn’t. You have to let me go.”

“You want me to let you go?” He asked in disbelief. “We’ve been together for four years! We’re planning on getting married in a few months! You’re all I know! Please, baby, tell me you aren’t serious.”

You remained silent and it only pushed him further into a panic. “We don’t have to get married now, if that’s what you want. We don’t have to move in together. We can wait. I can wait. We can slow down, focus on other things until you’re ready. Just please, please, Mel! Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

“I’ve already made up my mind,” you said. Chanyeol shook his head in denial, protests left his lips, but you continued, raising your voice so it overlapped his. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be with you anymore, Chanyeol! Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Don’t say that!” He cried, tears streaming down his face. Your hands balled into fists, fingernails dug deep into your palms, drawing blood.

Chanyeol fell to his knees, gasping for breath before you, and begged for you to stop. To think about this, to love him back. Love him. Don’t you love him?

He reached for you and you took several steps back and that rejection seemed to snap something inside him.

He immediately stopped crying, face falling in shock. His hands were still stretched towards you, hands open for your embrace. The only sound coming from you both were his ragged breaths.

He stared at his empty hands as though seeing them for the first time, confusion washed over his features. Did you just…deny him? He then took in his surroundings, took notice to the small crowd forming around you, who took in the show with either pity or curiosity. It grounded him, made him aware of the scene he was making. Slowly his arms lowered back to his sides, and he silently got back to his feet, brushing his pants off and sniffing, wiping away the wetness on his red face.

“Let me take you home.” His voice was gravelly and deeper than you had ever heard it. You hated the way it caused your heart to speed up, your lower abdomen to burn with want. That was the opposite of what you should’ve felt.

“Yeol, I don’t think–”

He doesn’t give you time to finish. Quickly, spinning around and heading towards his car without making sure you were even following. You had to jog to catch up with his wide steps. You remained silent. You understood. No one deserved to get dumped in public like this.

Once you were both in his car, he drove off without a word or glance over to you. Even the music remained off, which was never a good sign of his state of mind.

It was only a fifteen minute drive to your place, but it felt much longer.

He parked in front of your complex, turned off his car, and you both just… sat there. You played with your fingers, and tried to ignore the way the streetlight ahead hit your engagement ring, causing the light to bounce around the car. It was beautiful–a great representation of Chanyeol’s feelings for you.

“I’m sorry,” you finally spoke, feeling wetness on your hands. “I hate hurting you.”

His hands curled tightly around the steering wheel. “So, you want to go through with this? You really want to call off the wedding?”

You nodded, albeit reluctantly. “We’re not ready–at least, I’m not. I don’t want to grow to resent you, Yeol. And if we get married now, I will. I know I will. I’m starting to think that I’m not the type to get married, to be tied down. I… want to swim.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, and your heart leapt. It should have made you feel cold, instead it warmed your heart.

You couldn’t help but reach over and cup his cheek and smile ruefully at him. “You’re going to make a wonderful husband, Yeol. Just not mine.”

“Don’t say that.” He ordered again, voice cracking. He reached up and grabbed your hand, holding it firmly against his dampening cheek. For the second time, he broke down. Weeping the loss of his soon-to-be bride. You held him. Let him lean into your touch for the last time, to savor the feeling of his soft skin beneath your fingers. This truly felt like a farewell. Like you were never going to see him again, and if that were the case you wanted to remember all the things you loved most about him while he was still in front of you, even as he fell apart around you.

You sobbed with him. Mourned for the future you both had planned for, the only future you saw for the last few years. He had grown to be all you knew, and it wasn’t as easy as you were making it to leave him.

“I love you,” he cried. “I love you so damn much. I don’t want to lose you.”

That only made you sob harder. Fuck, you loved him too, and you wished you could tell him that. But that would only make it harder for him to let you go, and you needed him to. You both had to move on.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could muster. You repeated that word over and over, hoping he would grasp the weight of your regret.

The sun was in the middle of its descent when you both were able to finally catch your bearings.

Chanyeol let go of your hand, took in the ring and closed his eyes, readjusting in his seat so that he could lean back and stare unseeingly at the darkening sky through his sunroof.

“Now what?” He asked.

“We move on,” you said between hiccups. “I’ll inform everyone in a week. Give you time… to come to terms with everything.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” he muttered, still looking at the scramble of stars ahead of him. “I thought you loved me.”

You took a massive breath and let it out in a gust, clearing your throat of the burning ball building within it.

You needed to go before you said something stupid, like you changed your mind. There was just one thing left to do.

You started taking off your ring.

Hands brought you to a stop.

“What are you doing?” It was said so fiercely, you jerked back, startled. When you locked eyes with Chanyeol’s, they were aflame. The fire in his eyes reminded you of the infamous painting of Lucifer.

The intensity had you gulping in fear.

“Keep it,” he said through gritted teeth.

“But–”

“No,” he repeated, just as intensely. “That’s yours. Hold on to my heart for me. I only want you to have it.”

“Chanyeol….” Your eyes clouded over again with fresh tears. There was a change in him. Instead of being the victim, he was being strong, fully coming to terms with what was happening.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, “You said you want to be alone. Fine. I’ll leave you alone. But, I want you to remember that there is someone that loves you. I will always be in love with you. Even now, when you’re leaving me. Even if you find someone new, I will always be here–waiting for you to come back to me.”

“What if I don’t come back?” You can’t help but ask.

“I don’t know if you will,” he said. His authenticity only made you feel worse. “But I’ll be waiting all the same.”

He squeezed your hand. “So, please, Mel, do this last thing for me. Keep the ring.”

Hot tears streamed down your face and he brushed them away with his thumbs before leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“I love you.”

His confession had you sobbing. He was letting you go completely, and it had you regretting the decision. You loved him so much and you leaving at the end of the day had nothing to do with him. This was a selfish choice, but it was one you knew you had to make. You had to do something for yourself for once, and this was it. Putting yourself first wasn't easy, but it was necessary for you to grow into the person you wanted to be.

“I know you still love me,” Chanyeol continued. “But I think I’m starting to understand what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m sorry,” you said for the hundredth time.

He gave you a small smile, taking in your features as though it were for the last time, which was a high chance it would be. “I know.”

That’s enough of a goodbye to you.

You stare at each other for a moment longer, wanting to prolong the inevitable. But, finally you pulled away and opened the door, stumbling out. Holding your hand to your chest, you felt the cool metal of your engagement ring against your burning flesh–the physical representation of his heart.

Despite breaking it, it was the only thing that gave you strength.

It was what got you through the loneliest year of your life.

Until he took it back.

You awake the next day more exhausted than before you dozed off. Cracking open an eye, you see Sehun fluttering around. His dark hair is wet, dampening the shoulders of his white t-shirt that’s tucked into black slacks.

He notices you and grins. “Oh! Good morning.”

You groan as you stretch. “What time is it?”

“It’s a little past eleven. I was just about to wake you. I have to leave here in a bit.”

You sit up, squinting. “I need a shower.”

“You’re free to use mine, although you didn’t bring anything with you.”

You sigh. That means you’ll have to go back to your room.

“There’s breakfast on the table. Eat first. You’ll have just enough time to get ready after.”

You nod while letting out a large yawn. Sehun walks past you and you grab his wrist, pulling him to a stop. He glances down at you questioningly, and you answer with a smile. “Thank you.”

He matches your smile. “Of course. Now go eat.”

He pats the bird’s nest on top of your head before disappearing into his room, leaving while you’re in the middle of eating. You take your time, chewing slowly as you work up the courage to head over to your suite.

Once in the hallway, your eyes are drawn over to the door a little off to your right. The one Chanyeol vanished after kissing you last night. Your breath catches as you remember the feeling of his lips against yours. The way his hands cupped your face. The desperation in his gaze and voice. You shake your head and realize that you had started walking over to the room instead of your own. You let out a shaky laugh, you can’t go to him. Not yet. Not after last night, not before going to a wedding of all things! Still… you find yourself lingering. Hoping, maybe, he’ll open the door. That he’ll find you waiting for him, that you both can finally have the talk you’ve been dancing around since first locking eyes a few days ago.

He doesn’t come out, probably already left for the wedding, and with disappointment sitting heavy in your chest, you shuffle back over to your suite.

It’s quiet when you finally enter. The door to Seulgi’s room is closed, but yours is open. You creep in to find your best friend sitting at the vanity, blow-drying her hair. You lock eyes in the mirror and she jumps from fright.

“Morning,” you wince. “I just have to grab my things to get ready.”

“Are you going to get ready at Sehun’s?”

“Yeah. Thought it would be easier on everyone.”

Seulgi pouts. “We were going to get ready together.”

“That was before Yerim decided to hate us.”

“Actually, she might’ve already gotten over it.” She sees your confused expression and sighs. “Chanyeol stopped by earlier.”

Her words cause you to completely freeze. You don’t even breathe as you register what she just said. You had missed him.

“He did?” You ask, anticipating her answer. That bitter iron taste slowly leaking into the back of your throat.

“Yeah. He came by to talk to Yerim. I guess one of the boys told him what he did last night. He sounded very apologetic. They spoke for a while, but I didn’t hear anything. They went in my room and closed the door. He asked for you as well, but I told him that you weren’t here, and that talking to you probably wasn’t the best idea.”

You hum noncommittally, thawing again. Seulgi is right. Neither one of you are in the best place mentally at the moment. And despite wanting to speak to him privately, you are a bit apprehensive of being alone with him.

“Yerim spoke to me afterwards,” Seulgi continues, unaware of your inner monologue. “It was to ask if I booked her flight, but still. She didn’t sound as angry, so whatever he said must have calmed her down.”

“So, she’s still going to leave?”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, she won’t budge. She will be flying out right after the ceremony.”

“This is all my fault.”

She lifts a hand, halting your words. “Don’t start. You know that it’s not. Now get over here and dry the rest of my hair, I can’t reach the back.”

You can’t help but smile at her bossy tone and walk over, grabbing the dryer out her hands and gladly complying.

When that task is done, you slip into the shower. Once clean, you head back to your room to get dressed, but when you open the door, Yerim is on the other side.

“Oh!” You startle.

“Oh, you’re here….” She averts her gaze, and it kills you a little.

You call after her. “I know you’re still angry, but can we talk? Just us?”

She sighs but relents with a nod, heading back to the room she shared with Seulgi until last night.

She sits on the edge of the bed, you remain standing.

“I’m sorry,” you start. “I’m sorry for not telling you the moment I realized he was your date. I should’ve said something then, but when he pretended to not know us, I don’t know, I didn’t want you to think I was making things up or trying to meddle.”

“It’s true that I most likely wouldn’t have believed you at first,” she says. “But I still believe I was owed that much. I could’ve talked to him about it and we would’ve figured things out together, instead of him making the decision himself.”

“You’re right,” you agree. “You should’ve had a choice. By not telling you, I took that away from you. I just couldn’t bear to break your heart, Yerim. When you came down to the hall that first day, it was obvious how happy you were. I didn’t want to take that away from you. I would rather swallow my pride and jealousy, and endure the pain of seeing him with somebody else, then ruin your joy.”

Yerim’s quiet, pondering over your words. Her next words surprise you. “You were jealous?”

You huff out a laugh. “Is that all you heard?”

She shakes her head, but you catch a small smile. “It’s just weird. You being jealous of me.”

“This whole situation has been weird,” you say.

“That I can agree with.”

It’s silent for a breath and she seems to sober up. “I believe you.”

That’s enough to have your head whipping over to her.

“I believe that you had my best interest at heart, but at the end of the day, he still kissed you and you still lied to me. I can’t forgive you–not now at least. Not when it’s all still so fresh.”

“I understand.” And you did, although it hurt to hear. “I wish things went differently. You deserved better.”

“Thank you,” she says with a watery smile. “You did too, you know?”

You eye her skeptically and she notices, rolling her own. She says your name. “You’ve been caught in the middle this whole time. I don’t know what has been going on between you and Chanyeol, but I know from that kiss, that you both had been holding back for my sake. It wasn’t fair for you to have to do that.”

You think about the other almost kisses and can’t help but to disagree with Yerim’s words. Yes, you were holding back, but it was only a matter of time before you had cracked yourself.

“Chanyeol was never mine.” Yerim’s words catch your attention and you refocus on the broken-hearted girl, who was looking very introspective and mature at the moment. “I know this now. He was here earlier. He apologized for last night and the way he handled us, and it was so obvious, I can’t believe I hadn’t seen it the moment you were back in his life. He never really liked me. Maybe he thought he could, but it seems more like he saw a way to try to forget you and took it. I just so happened to be a willing participant in his charade.”

“He wasn’t using you,” you can’t help but defend.

Her smile turns sad. “He still cares about you, and I have a feeling you still care about him also.”

“Yerim….”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. Just be honest from now on. Okay, Mel?”

You groan and she laughs, it rings sincerely.

“What does that even mean, anyway?”

“Long story,” you dismiss with a wave of a hand. “So… we’re good?”

She contemplates for a moment, scrutinizing you before giving you a nod. “We’re about twenty percent good.”

“I’ll take it!” You pull her into a hug before she can fight you off and leave her room in higher spirits.

You get ready with Seulgi and the two of you are back to feeling excited. With the ceremony looming, it’s easy to get lost in your excitement for Junmyeon. Thoughts of Chanyeol are forgotten as you laugh and dance to the playlist Seulgi created specifically for getting hype over the event.

The massive hotel Junmyeon will one day inherit has two wedding venues. One is outside by the shore, while the other is in a building connected to the hotel. He decided to have his ceremony in the latter, which you are grateful for. The sun is beating heavily this late afternoon, and you know your makeup would melt off if you were outside for too long.

The hall is magnificent. In the center is a long elevated runway, the end of it splits into two, so it’s like a T shaped stage. The surface of the stage is a screen, showing a moving image of the sparkling blue sea, it’s waves gently overlapping each other. At the edge of the stage, in the middle of the horizontal top of the T is a white arch with peach flowers wrapped around it with golden vines. At least six chandeliers hang low from the ceiling with icy diamonds softly sparkling against the golden hues of the light. Either side of the runway is lined with rows of chairs all facing the front where the bride and groom will be saying their vows.

Yerim, Seulgi, and yourself sit on the right side of the stage, in the fourth row. The place is filling up quickly, the event close to starting. The three of you sit silently as you wait with baited breath. Why are you nervous? You don’t even know, but your foot keeps tapping restlessly and you can’t stop wringing your hands.

Finally, the lighting dims and the orchestra from the dinner when you first arrived starts playing. Everyone turns to the double doors that open at the foot of the walkway and the officiate walks in before taking her place in front of the arch. Then comes two pairs of grandparents, followed by both Nayeon and Junmyeon’s mothers, both dawning beautiful hanboks in peach and champagne respectfully.

Once they are seated, the music changes and Junmyeon comes waltzing in, a hand in his pocket and a brilliant thousand watt smile on his lips. You can’t help but smile as well, basking in his joy. He acknowledges people in the audience while you all clap at his arrival. When he’s beside your row, you catch his eye and you both share a wink as both Seulgi and you throw him a thumbs up. He pats his chest in gratitude before moving on to the other guests. Seulgi turns to face you and you both lean into each other. Your friend is actually doing it. He’s actually getting married.

Once Junmyeon takes his place in the front, the wedding party enters. You wrap your arms around Seulgi’s waist, resting your chin on her shoulder as you watch the rest of your best friends walk down the aisle. They all look incredibly handsome. All in charcoal two piece suits, white button downs, silky champagne ties, and hair all gelled back, exposing their foreheads. They’re all just as joyous as the rest of you, big smiles on all of their faces. Chanyeol is the last one to enter, probably because he’s the tallest, and you purposely avoid looking at him, knowing you won’t be able to handle him like this. You wouldn’t be able to handle him like this on your strongest day, but after the kiss, it’s just not realistic.

The music changes again, lilting to the familiar tune of Here Comes the Bride, and everyone stands and shifts their attention to the open doors in anticipation for the star of the ceremony.

Nayeon glides into the room, her father at her side, and she looks absolutely stunning. She’s wearing a lacy long sleeved gown that floats down into a big train. appearing like fresh fallen snow. Her hair is braided back into a knot, revealing her beautiful face. Her big eyes are shiny with unshed tears, and despite not being that close to her, you can’t help but grow misty eyed. She’s undeniably gorgeous, embodying everything a bride should. You can’t take your eyes off of her.

She makes it to the front, her father passes her hand over to her husband’s and goes back to his seat, leaving the two to smile up at each other, and you’re sure they’ve forgotten there are others in the room.

Your attention gets pulled to the right, where Junmyeon’s groomsmen stand, and you lock eyes with Chanyeol. It’s the first time seeing him after his drunken confession and it knocks the wind out of you. He is the most handsome man you have ever seen, but his beauty is haunting with his perfect features fallen in despair. It’s as though seeing you in this setting reminds him of what he lost, of what could have been. Three years ago, he would be in Junmyeon’s position, staring lovingly at his bride-to-be. Instead, he watches her in the crowd, with longing in his wounded heart.

It’s enough to bring back that bitter iron taste this wedding has shoved down your throat.

“I know,” you mouth to him, and god didn’t you. You give him an understanding nod and that seems to be enough to console him. He sucks in a breath, finally blinking away the strong emotions of regret and helplessness, and turns back to his friends.

Now that the couple are at the altar, everyone sits down, allowing the event to proceed.

The ceremony is quick. The two share their vows. Nayeon’s is sweet and she barely gets through them, nearly bursting into tears every few words. Junmyeon’s is cheesy, riddled with dad jokes, but there is no denying his devotion to her. Baekhyun and Chen, who both minored in choir, sing a few songs for the newlyweds that only make you even more emotional. After that, the couple turn to the crowd, bowing before you all. Nayeon lowers her head, but Junmyeon gives a deep bow, falling onto his hands and knees to press his forehead to the stage. Then they walk to the tail end of the stage and finally share their first kiss as husband and wife. Junmyeon, ever the showman, dips Nayeon and the crowd hoots and cheers for them. It’s all very sweet.

That marks the end of the actual ceremony, so they head back to the arch and take pictures with guests for about twenty minutes. Everyone wants a picture with the newlyweds. Yerim doesn’t wish to, but both Seulgi and you are practically forced to by the boys. You both get on the stage and catch the way Nayeon takes in your matching champagne colored dresses with dismay before quickly brushing it off.

Just because you weren’t in the wedding didn’t mean you weren’t going to show your support. You are also close friends with Junmyeon, so he may have let it slip what color the boys will be wearing, hinting that you both should maybe get dresses in that color as well.

You shimmy up to Sehun, who holds you close, and smile at the camera. The whole college crew gets a bunch of pictures together and it is filled with laughter and silliness, as it always is when you’re all together.

Once you’re done with the photo op, you head back over to the ballroom, where the reception is being held. Seulgi and Yerim break away to go to the hotel room so that Yerim can leave, her flight is in a couple hours. Seulgi tells you she’ll be right back. You want to go with them, but don’t want to agitate Yerim any more than you already have, so you instead enter the room alone. None of your friends have arrived yet, so you just awkwardly stand by the food, not really hungry. You take in everyone present and get overwhelmed with loneliness. It’s not too long though, before the groomsmen all enter. You chuckle when the crowd applauses at their arrival, the mini celebrities.

Jongdae finds you quickly and makes his way over.

“What are you doing, hiding in the corner?” He asks. You attempt a smile, having little faith in the strength of your voice, and shake your head in answer.

“Are you hungry?” He asks. You shake your head again. He furrows a brow. “Where’s Seulgi and her sister?”

You shrug and clear your throat, trying to tell him in so many ways what’s going on. He takes a pause, eyes roaming your face and posture. You aren’t sure if he catches on, but he must have seen something because he nudges your shoulder and gently grabs your wrist, pulling you over to a table already inhabited by Jongin and Baekhyun.

It’s not long until the newlyweds make their grand entrance, and soon after a DJ starts playing fun music and the ballroom lights dim, allowing for a little laser show to bounce shapes across the walls. The tables are situated in such a way that allow for a makeshift dance floor in front of the DJ table. Sehun arrives with a whole tray of champagne and hands them out. Seulgi makes it back just in time to join the toast.

“To us,” Sehun murmurs simply. You all gently clink your glasses together, basking in the love you all have for each other.

“Is she gone?” You finally find your voice to ask Seulgi after taking a sip of the obviously expensive drink.

She nods, exposed shoulders falling. “She didn’t want me to wait for her. She said she’ll text me when she makes it there.”

You rub her back and she leans her head onto your shoulder. You take in your dapper friends. “You all did so amazing, and look very handsome in your suits.”

“The best groomsmen ever,” Seulgi adds, throwing them a finger heart.

“Why, thank you,” Baekhyun says, smoothing his suit jacket.

“We’ll keep the suits for the next wedding,” Jongin adds.

“Which will probably be Jongdae at this rate,” Sehun says.

Jongdae laughs. “Hey now, let’s have this baby first. Then we can start talking about marriage.”

“Should we bet on it?” Baekhyun asks, smiling conspiringly.

Jongin groans. “You never play fair.”

“You’re no fun. The only one that ever plays with me anymore is Chanyeol.”

“Where is he anyways?” Seulgi asks, lifting her head off of you so that she can continue drinking.

“Around here somewhere,” Baekhyun says, tossing a hand dismissively. You surreptitiously glance around, but don’t see him. You try not to show your disappointment.

“He was helping the crew put away chairs before I left the venue,” Sehun reveals.

“That’s nice of him,” Jongdae says.

“Always such a sweetheart.”

“I thought he was an asshole?”

“He’s a sagittarius,” Seulgi shrugs. That’s enough of an answer for you all. You get the suspicion that he’s being ‘nice’ as an avoidance tactic and you’re jealous you didn’t think of it yourself.

Another twenty minutes pass, and even though you love being around your friends, you just want to be alone and sulk. Now that the wedding is officially over, you can’t shake off that dark rotten feeling sitting heavy in your gut. There are so many negative emotions swirling around you, darkening your aura, and there’s only one other person that you feel you can talk to about it, but aren’t even sure if he wants to.

The others have been drinking and some have worked up the courage to get on the dance floor. The groomsmen really know how to put on a show. The crowd instantly cheers, glad to see that people are starting to let loose. You’re thankful to see Seulgi join them, she’s honestly one of the best dancers in the group, and she needs to let loose right now.

The only person that sits at the table with you is Sehun.

“I think I’m going to go,” you tell him, trying to act regretful.

He takes you in quietly. “I’m glad you stayed for this long. I didn’t think you would come to the reception.”

You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, but he gives you a smile full of pity as an answer.

“You look beautiful, by the way. It was smart of Junmyeon to tell you the color. I did notice that Yerim didn’t wear it though.”

“She’s not one of us….” You let the sentence trail off, catching how defensive you sound.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges around the rim of his flute. “She’s not.”

You study him for a moment, taking in the way he turns away from you to watch your friends dance battle. You want to leave, but find yourself hesitating, waiting for Sehun to say what he wants to say.

“What are you waiting for?” He asks instead, turning back to you. “Go before they notice. If any of them catch you, you won’t be leaving this reception until we all get kicked out.”

You grin gratefully before quietly slipping out. You feel bad for not saying goodbye to Junmyeon, but you’ll see him again some day. Plus, you know he won’t hold it against you.

The lobby is empty when you go to hit the up button on the elevator and rub your cold bare arms as you wait for the doors to open. Once they do, you climb in, hit the floor number, lean against the corner and wait for the doors to close, trying to keep your mind clear of any thoughts.

Right as the doors are closing, someone sticks their hand out, causing them to open again. Your heart both plummets and soars as Chanyeol rushes in. He locks eyes with you and freezes in shock, not expecting you of all people. He catches himself quickly, throwing you a wistful knowing grin. “Couldn’t stomach it either, huh?”

Just like when Jongdae found you at the reception, you can’t find your voice, only an itchy feeling you can’t scratch. His presence brings on an onslaught of emotions that get caught in your throat, choking you with the overwhelming feeling of longing and hurt and regret and frustration and other things you can’t instantly place.

He swallows thickly at what he sees in your expression, and turns away from you, going to press the button to his floor, only to be reminded you’re both heading to the same place.

The doors close, trapping you in with the one person that’s been on your mind constantly since you stepped foot onto this island. The elevator is thick with tension, the silence almost overbearing, causing you to sweat a little. It’s full of all the things you both want to say to each other, full of things you’ve never been able to say to each other. You want to start rambling, to fill the silence that is only awkward because you’re making it that way. Your chest is heavy with all that you need to tell him piled onto it, but you find that you can’t seem to find the right words, despite everything. You dare a peek and a squeak leaves your mouth when you catch him already looking at you. He seems to be just appraising you, taking advantage of having you this close to him after such a long time. The moment your eyes lock, he straightens to attention, letting you know that he’s willing to listen to whatever you want to say.

How he knows that’s what you want is beyond you, but you’re relieved to know he’s allowing you this.

Unfortunately, you still can’t seem to vocalize the millions of thoughts running through your head.

There’s a ding and then the doors are opening, letting all the tension out with it like a deflating balloon. You make your way out. Chanyeol trails a few steps behind you. The heat of his gaze stiffening your shoulders as you make it to your room.

Once you arrive at your room, you find yourself hovering, unable to pull out the key to unlock the door. Chanyeol walks past you, towards his own room, and you swallow down the disappointment flooding your mouth.

You finally reach into your bag to grab that key, but the sound of urgent footsteps catches your attention. Chanyeol rushes back to you.

“Do you, uh, want to come to my room?” He asks, avoiding your gaze. Your heart leaps as you watch him scratch the back of his neck.

The word is leaving your mouth before you can even contemplate.

“Yeah.”

series m.list | main m.list

previous chapter | next chapter

taglist @byunparklimchoi, @defloey

78 notes · View notes

somnambulants · 3 years ago

Note

i love your writing!! could you maybe do something with exes to lovers with nat?

word count: 3.9K notes: thanks for the request! i’m glad you like my writing! i also may...have started thinking about writing a second part because im super attached to this fic. let me know if thats something you guys would be interested in!

“Barton, you’re such a –“

Your world stops turning at the sound of that voice, everything else becoming static. It doesn’t matter that you’re standing in a room full of people that you’re supposed to be impressing.

It’s been over ten years since you’d last heard that voice.

Vaguely, you know that Captain America is speaking to you but the only thing you can pay attention to is her.

You turn slowly, and the second you lay eyes on her you know for sure.

It’s definitely her.

You see it the second she spots you too.

In all the time you’d known her, she’d always been so much more proficient at hiding things than you but you still see the way her eyes widen as she takes you in and the way her face shifts into something that resembles shock before she manages to mask it.

“Nat!”

You startle a little, having now somehow completely forgotten that Captain America was next to you and that you were in the middle of a tour of your new workplace the second you’d landed eyes on her.

Oh god.Your new workplace.

Your new workplace that was also clearly her workplace.

As she approaches, you futilely look for every possible way you can escape. “This is Y/N. Fury’s informant while Agent Emery is on reconnaissance. Y/N this is Natasha Romanoff.”

Natasha? Romanoff? Absurdly, you have the sudden urge to laugh.

She really couldn’t have come up with a better name after fleeing the country all those years ago? It’s a surprise to you that you hadn’t heard about her sooner with that alias.

Pushing that thought away and hoping that your face shows the professionalism you’re trying to convey, you straighten your spine and clear your throat. “Nice to meet you.”

Captain America’s eyes flick between the both of you. Maybe you’re not doing as good a job as you’d thought.

Natalia-Natasha takes the hand you extend to her and shakes it. “Likewise,” she says, and you hate the way your body still reacts to her voice all these years later; hate the way her touch still makes you feel.

Even more so, you hate that you don’t know what it is you’re feeling more of as you look into her eyes: fury or heartbreak.

She makes a flimsy –well flimsy to you – excuse and leaves the conversation after that. You watch her walk away, clenching the hand she’d touched into a fist as you resist the urge to put it through the wall next to you.

Somehow you think you’d have a hard time explaining it to the man still standing next to you, who is now watching you with a thoughtfully puzzled but not suspicious expression.

Not yet, anyway.

Your dreams that night are fitful and full of her. The first time you’d met, you’d been nothing more than children.

There are no children in red room though. Only fighters and a fighter, she definitely was.

You? Not so much. You’d never been designed to last more than a day in that place and you wouldn’t have, if not for her.

Natalia throws you back against the mat, again and then again and again. Each time you stand up with more difficulty until eventually, she throws you down so hard your vision blurs for a second.

You never had a chance against her, something you knew before you even stepped foot into the room and you know they must have known that too when they set you up against the most experienced fighter here.

It’s abundantly clear you’ve been set up to fail.

The next time she hits you, your legs give out beneath you and you can’t bring yourself to get up this time, even though you know what’s going to happen to you if you don’t.

You know how this works.

Bracing yourself for impact, you close your eyes and wait. It’s pathetic. You know.

The final blow never comes. When you finally crack open an eye, you find Natalia, arms crossed, just gazing down at you.

It might have been your imagination but her eyes don’t seem quite as hard as they had been before.

She extends a hand after a second of her just watching you and you watching her. A little part of you is convinced it’s a trick; that the second you take her hand, you’re going to fail whatever test this is.

Still, against your better judgement you take her hand and, rather than the macabre images playing out in your mind, instead she actually helps you stand, surprisingly gentle as she does so.

She gives you a second to reorient yourself and then her whole demeanour changes, turning cold and stiff as she crouches down back into a fighting position.

“Try again.”

Just as abruptly, you’re thrown into another and another. Quick flashes of the past that still haunt you.

Natalia taking you on your first mission.

Natalia holding your hand as you cried over the body of the first man you’d killed.

Natalia lying beside you on your mattress, running her hands through your hair gently when your nightmares became so bad you’d go days without sleeping.

Years and years of training. Years of bruises and broken bones. Mission after mission. Somehow, it’s all maybe not-quite worth it but it almost is – almost �� because of her.

When you kiss her for the first time, you think that might be the first time either of you has had any control over what you do with your bodies.

You can't remember a time where you'd had something you'd ever wanted and you wanted her so badly.

You can’t get enough of it. Or her.

And then, one day, you wake up and she’s just... gone.

The next morning, feeling irritable and exhausted from your disturbed sleep, you walk into the avengers training room and find the one person you’d been hoping wouldn’t be there.

Of course, your mind spitefully whispers because of course it wasn’t enough for the universe to thrust her back into your life but it had to throw her in your face too.

When you enter, she has her back to you but you know she knows you’re there by the way her back stiffens slightly.

You watch as she stands up straighter at the words you throw at her back, unable to help yourself: “What is this? Babysitting duty? I think we’re passed that, aren’t we?”

She turns to you. “I usually come here early,” is all she says. She doesn’t respond to the bite in your voice.

You make a non-committal sound and then just decide to ignore her, stomping past her to make your way to the far corner of the room. You work by yourself in peace for about ten minutes before you hear the sound of footsteps and all of a sudden she’s in front of you.

“I need a partner,” she says.

You have the urge to laugh in her face, before it strikes you how cathartic it would be to punch her right now, no matter how childish it might be, so you stand, letting the weight you’d been holding drop back to the floor with a loud thud, and follow her across the room.

You both crouch down in anticipation and you take a second to really look at her.

Her expression is unreadable. The pang you feel when you realise that surprises you.

There had been a time when you’d known her like the back of your hand and now she's nothing more than a stranger standing in front of you.

It hurts a lot more than you’d thought it would.

This continues for weeks. You don’t know why you let it happen but you do. You get up early; you go to the gym; you spar with her and then you fulfil the duties you’d been hired to do.

It’s almost easy to slip back into that headspace of your whole life revolving around her. Because it does. All you do is think about her when you’re not around her.

Over those weeks, you still barely speak a word to her because at least if you don’t speak, you have some kind of power.

To your surprise, she lets you ignore her, lets you pretend you don’t hear her whenever she speaks and you resent her a little more for that. You’d rather she hated you as much as you want to hate her.

It would make it all so much easier.

Eventually, though, you break.

You’re not strong enough to ignore your desire to know everything; to know how she’d ended up here. And why she’d clearly cared enough to stick around and try and save the entire world when you, a single person, hadn’t even been worth enough for her to stay.

“Why,” you pant, mid spar one morning. She’s kicking your ass, as usual. “Why here? Why the avengers?”

You’d sworn to yourself you’d never ask her this question but the yearning to know has been burning inside you since you’d walked into this building over a month ago now.

Equally as breathless, Natasha drops the careful fa��ade she’d had up and looks at you with those eyes; the ones that could have made you do anything at one point in time. You’re not convinced they still couldn’t. “I wanted to do better… be better than what we were…. Isn’t that why you’re here, too?”

That answer hurts you more than any of the hits she’s landed on you this morning. And there’s been a lot. She’s still the superior fighter, even if she had left so long before you.

God, those words hurt to hear. Especially to have you lumped in with the clearly bad part of her life, whether it was her intention or not.

Maybe that’s why you say what you say next. Maybe there’s a little part of you wishes this whole situation would hurt her as much as it hurts you.

“How… uncharacteristic of you,” you ignore the last part of her sentence because honestly: you don’t know why you’re here. You feel like you’ve been lost and drifting your whole life and the only thing that had ever made sense to you was her.

You know your bitterness has bled into your voice with your words but you don’t make any effort to mask it. And if you can hear it, she definitely can too.

In the blink of an eye, she stops sparring with you, straightening up quicker than even you can catch. You let out a breathless huff of air as she grabs the front of your shirt pulling it so you’re forced forward until you’re almost nose to nose with her.

You hate that for a split second, before you can control yourself, you lean in slightly. As much as your mind can’t stand her, your body has no such feelings and it still wants her. You know you have no hope of hiding it from her so you don’t even bother.

“You don’t know me,” she says. The words come out of her mouth fiercely but the look in her eyes is soft, beseeching, like she wants you to hear her. “I'm not that person anymore.”

Like it matters.

It’s like you’re suspended in time for a second, and all you can think of as you look into her eyes is of the woman you knew.

You hate that you still miss her.

There’s a flicker of something in her eyes that you want to believe mirrors the torrent of emotions currently taking over you – the sadness, the anger, the grief – but you know better than to have hope when it comes to her.

You know all too well how it ends. And you’ve had enough of false hope.

Typically, in a fight, you know Natasha would come out on top – has every time -- but she’s never had your anger directed at her the way it is now and she isn’t expecting the way you’re practically vibrating with it as you shove her away, so hard that she stumbles backwards, only just managing to stay on her feet.

“Clearly,” you spit at her as you straighten up, and start walking towards the exit.

You know she’s still just standing there in the same spot. You can feel her eyes on you.“Yeah, run away,” she mutters under her breath.

It’s the first time she’s shown you the attitude you’d been giving her for weeks and her reaction is justified, you can admit it, but you don’t care.

You spin around, fury overtaking you as you advance on her until you’re pinning her against the wall behind her. “Sorry,” you hiss, glaring into her eyes. “I forgot you’re the only one who can do that.”

“That was different.”

You laugh. It’s not a nice one. It sounds like an injured animal trying to claw it’s way out of your throat.

“Why? Because it was you doing it? Excuse me for not being —“

All of a sudden, she’s kissing you. Or you’re kissing her.

Either way, you’re kissing and you don’t know how exactly it happened but you know that you can’t get enough of her; can’t get her close enough even though there’s no longer even an inch of space between you.

She flips your positions, tugging you closer, and you’re abruptly bathed in cool air as she rips your shirt off you, shoving you against the wall.

Your heart picks up rapidly as she kneels in front of you, easing the rest of your clothes off in one fluid moment.

“I hate you. So much,” you tell her as you step out of your pants and it’s not convincing even to you. Still, you repeat it again and again as she kisses down your body – so tenderly and gently that your voice starts to wobble.

You hate it. You hate her.

She looks up at you from in between your legs, now on her knees. It’s such a vulnerable position that you find you can’t look at her and you have to close your eyes. Natasha digs her nails into your thighs as she forces them apart.

“Look at me,” she demands. Her grip tightens until you obey; you know you’re going have crescent shaped bruises tomorrow. Her gaze is soft and tender and just all consuming. You know there’s no coming back from it. You’d never had a chance, even back when you didn’t mind not having one. “Don’t look away.”

You don’t, not even when she finally, finally, touches you and your head falls back against the wall.

You hold her gaze the entire time knowing how incredibly stupid this is and not caring at all about how much you’ll regret it later when you’re thinking straight.

And regret it, you do.

You stop working out early. You walk the other way in the halls if you see her. You know people are catching on that something is going on between the both of you; have caught multiple avengers giving you quizzical looks whenever you’re in the same room and it makes you feel even worse than before.

You channel all that regret into something more meaningful and commit to doing a damn good job at what you were actually here for. And you do. You can admit you do a fantastic job.

Every time you hand a report in or come back from a mission, you swear see a glimmer of approval in Fury’s eyes. Something you’d heard was notoriously hard to come by.

You must have done something really shitty in a past life though because after weeks of throwing yourself into your temporary duties, you walk into your temporarily office and are immediately flagged down by Fury, who debriefs you on the details of a mission he’s sending you on.

You’re thrilled for about three seconds until you see the name of the person you’re going with.

Agent Natasha Romanoff.

Fury is looking at you with a scrutinising expression when you look up from the file. Every time he looks at you it’s like he can see inside your soul. “Is that a problem?”

You grit your teeth and force yourself to smile. “Of course not, sir.”

It is a problem. A big problem, in fact.

You don’t speak to her on the flight there. Even though it’s only the two of you confined in the aircraft. You don’t even so much let yourself look at her. You can feel her looking at you multiple times, though, even though she’s piloting and should only be looking at the course in front of you.

There are no words exchanged between you all day beyond the times you absolutely have to speak.

At least not until you reach the tiny hotel room you’d been given.

The second the door closes behind you both, she turns to you and opens her mouth and maybe it’s cowardly but you cut her off before she even start speaking.

“I’m going to have a shower,” you say and flee the room with your entire carry-on, worried that if you pause to sift through your things, she’ll keep talking.

Still in the same spot, the look on Natasha’s face when you emerge from the bathroom is full of clear exhaustion. You hate the way it makes you feel. Empty. Sad. It’s exhausting for you trying to convince yourself you hate her.

“I’m sorry I left,” she says and you freeze. “I wanted to come back. Find you. I just didn’t know - i didn’t know if you even wanted me to.”

You’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. Now you have you don’t know what to do. “Why did you leave?”

She hesitates. The look in her eyes tells you you’re not going to get a full answer. That as open as she’s trying to be, you still don’t get to know why she abandoned you. “It’s a long story.”

The evasion stings. “An apology means nothing if you won’t tell me why.”

It’s an unfair thing to say. You know that but you don’t really feel like being fair right now.

You chance a look up when she doesn’t respond and find her looking down at the floor. It makes you wonder what — or who — she must still be protecting by not telling you.

It becomes apparent that she’s not going to say anything else after the silence between you drags on long enough that the tension in the air becomes almost unbearable.

You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing the tears in your eyes so you flick the light off and turn the lamp on your shared nightstand off, throwing the both of you into immediate darkness. It’s definitely too early to be sleeping but you don’t care.

Eventually, after laying there rigidly for what feels like hours and listening to the sounds of Natasha tossing and turning in the other bed, you finally fall asleep and are immediately thrown into dream after dream that quickly turn into fitful nightmares.

Nightmares that may be more aptly called memories. After one particularly bad one that thrusts you back into consciousness, you bolt upwards, still half asleep.

You only narrowly manage to avoid bumping straight into Natasha, who’s hovering above you, because of her hand on your shoulder holding you in place.

You flinch away from her instinctively and she backs up to give you a little space.

The only sound in the room is your heavy and desperate gasping for air. Natasha, now perched on the very edge of the bed, bites her lip, looking at you as if she knows exactly what you’d been dreaming about.

She probably does. It doesn’t take a genius to guess.

“Are you –"

“I’m fine,” you say flatly. You stare up at the ceiling, absently counting the tiles as you try to slow your breathing.

You’re hyperventilating, you know it, you just can’t get yourself to stop. You’re also sweating, it’s disgusting. You can feel how all of your clothes are stuck to you. Your hair flattened to your neck.

If you hadn’t been dealing with this for so long, you’re pretty sure that you’d think you were having a heart attack instead of a panic attack.

But you have. Been dealing with it. It’s just something you’ve come to expect now. You just never thought she’d be here to witness it.

All of a sudden, as you’re still trying to calm your breathing, the bed dips below you.

Your eyes fly open in shock to find Natasha sliding onto the mattress beside you, still on top of the covers.

Gingerly, she rests her head on the pillow next to your head and fixes her gaze on the ceiling.

It’s slight but her hand brushes against your own a few minutes later.

You suck in a breath between your teeth, but despite yourself, you let her move closer, until she’s so close you’re almost touching, and you can hear her quiet breathing.

Against your better judgement, you let your eyes slip closed again. Seeming to understand you’re not going to push her away, Natasha shifts closer, until you’re both shoulder to shoulder, the way she used to lay next to you when you had bad dreams when you were kids.

She grabs your hand, and slowly, hesitantly, she moves it to her chest where you can feel her heart thrumming rapidly under your fingertips. Surprisingly, it still works; you breathe in and out, in out in out, in time with her heartbeat.

You must at some point fall asleep because all of a sudden you can hear birds chirping outside the window and the sounds of people outside in the street.

When you open your eyes, you expect to find the spot next to you empty and the covers unruffled, as if she’d never been there at all but to your shock she’s still there beside you, awake and on top of the covers.

The circles under her eyes make you think she must not have slept at all.

You slide out of the bed and head towards the bathroom without saying a word, where you turn the shower on and just sit under the spray for what must be at least an hour, letting the water run over you and trying not to think.

This time when you return, she’s gone.

The rest of the mission goes smoothly. If nothing else, you both work well together as a team. You can still read her movements like a book, and she knows to anticipate what you’re doing before you even know yourself.

The days go fine. The nights not so much. You don’t speak about it but every night you’re woken up by the same dreams and every night you wake up to find her kneeling beside you.

If you were stronger willed, you would’ve shoved her away the first time, but you can’t bring yourself to. Maybe it’s a little selfish but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The last night of the mission is when you finally break, though. Something shifts in the air when you wake yourself up gasping and meet her eyes. The same eyes that had been blank and lifeless in your dream.

You know she feels the shift as well by the way she’s looking at you, cautiously hopeful.

You don’t say anything though and neither does she. You just lay there, side by side, and watch each other carefully for what could be seconds, or it could be hours.

Her eyes are begging wordlessly: Truce?

Despite yourself, as you gaze back at her, you find yourself giving in. For tonight at least.

Truce.

#natasha romanoff x reader

522 notes · View notes

ushittyoldman · 4 years ago

Text

nobody’s fault but mine (pt. 2)

Levi wouldn’t really be Levi if he knew how to handle his intense feelings for you.

pairing. levi x fem!reader AND a little bit of jean x fem!reader (b/c once again i am a slut 4 jean too)

warnings. some fluff, language (b prepared for a lot of the f-bomb)

a/n. hi sorry 4 the long wait, life is a little hectic rn (it’s snowing n our power has been going out on n off for the past few days lmfao also school b lowkey kicking my ass) BUT i wanted 2 say thank u so so much 4 all ur feedback to part 1 it was so so so unexpected n sweet n flattering i literally still can’t wrap my head around it. i would rly appreciate some feedback 2 this one too since this is A LOT more levi n i actually adored writing him but i would luv 2 know what u guys think of my characterization of him (im a little nervy) but yes feedback is encouraged! this is kinda long but a lot happens so i rly hope u guys appreciate this n enjoy it bc it took me so long 2 write n rewrite it heheheh (side note 4 the sake of age n everything, all the 104th cadets r actually 18+ including our cute lil reader) also! pls continue 2 request more levi ok that’s it 4 now enjoy!

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

“Jean!”

The hushed voices stirred you out of the pleasant state of unconsciousness you had been in. A sharp pain shot through your head as you slowly opened your eyes, blinking quickly to adjust to the bright light. You flexed your fingers subtly as an attempt to gain awareness of yourself and your surroundings. Once you were comfortable, you slowly turned your head to your right and saw a scene you had grown painfully familiar with– Jean arguing with someone. The victim of the week was Armin, and you almost wanted to laugh at the quick back-and-forth between the two.

“Your bedside manner… sucks,” you managed to mumble. You cringed at the uncharacteristic hoarseness of your voice.

“There she is!” Jean exclaimed, shooting a victorious smirk at Armin, before fondly looking down at you, as he moved closer to your side.

You heard multiple gasps of your name, and you quickly turned your head to your left, before regretting it due to the sharp pang that followed in your head. Nevertheless, you mustered up as bright a smile as you could, looking at your friends who had all taken various positions throughout the room. Eren was the first to your bed, embracing you tightly.

“That was scary,” he softly mumbled your name, before pulling back, “Don’t do that again.”

The concern on his face startled you momentarily, and you couldn’t help but avert your eyes. You blinked quickly before looking up and shyly smiling at Eren.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You then looked up at your fellow cadets, who stood surrounding your small bed in the infirmary. Your love for these people sat heavily in your chest, and you beamed up at them, before you realized you were in the infirmary.

“What happened?” you genuinely asked, your husky voice taking you by surprise again.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what happened!” Jean scowled, crossing his arms in anger, “That little bastard—”

“Jean, you can’t say that about the Captain!” Sasha chided, looking sideways in fear as if to emphasize her point.

“Captain, my ass!”

You attempted to stifle your giggling, yet your mood significantly dropped upon remembering Levi’s treatment towards you this past month. You tried to conceal your obviously bothered expression, but you felt a hand softly ruffle your hair. You looked up and smiled at Reiner.

“Don’t sweat it, kiddo, I’m sure he’ll tone down the punishments after this,” he reassured, obviously mistaking your dejection over your unreciprocated feelings for Levi for something else.

Appreciating the gesture, you continued to smile up at him while nodding softly. Reiner had a comforting presence, and you felt your mood brighten slightly.

“Fingers crossed,” you deadpanned, earning a soft laugh from Bertholdt, who had taken a seat at the foot of your bed.

Jean’s relentless bashing of the Captain continued, as Sasha, Connie, and Armin attempted to calm him down, warning him about the consequences they’d all have to face if word got back to Levi. Eren gritted his teeth in irritation, as he glared up at Jean, threatening to “knock him out if he didn’t shut up,” while Mikasa had silently moved around the chaos to rest her calloused hand on your own, silently squeezing as a gesture of comfort. You squeezed back.

“Look, all I’m saying is he obviously has it out for her. She’s a better soldier than all of us– even you, titan boy— and it’s still not good enough? I call bullshit!”

“I think he’s just trying to be a good teacher, I’m sure there’s a lot I can still improve on,” you justified, and all eyes turned to you.

“There’s not,” Mikasa bluntly stated, leaving no room for argument.

Your friends all agreed, and you scrunched your nose playfully to conceal the warmth that had spread throughout your body at their praise. You worked hard to get where you were– there was a satisfaction in knowing that all of your effort wasn’t going unacknowledged.

“Jean-boy’s right—”

“Bastard!”

“—Captain Levi has been unnecessarily cruel to her, and we’ve all noticed it!” Eren’s fists clenched in anger as he ignored Jean’s yelling.

“But the Captain isn’t the type to hold grudges or act impulsively, so I think there’s something deeper to it,” Armin reasoned, apologetically glancing at you in case his words offended you.

You nodded softly, not wanting to worsen your headache; however, it didn’t really matter when Jean’s painfully loud voice retaliated almost immediately.

“He overworked her to the point of her passing out from exhaustion and severe dehydration!” His eyebrows furrowed in anger, and his sandy brown hair bounced with his every move.

You winced from the pain in your head, and the movement didn’t go unnoticed by Reiner, who glanced at you from where he stood.

“Jean— inside voice, yeah?” Reiner softly spoke, subtly tilting his head down towards you. Jean’s gaze softened and concern replaced the anger on his contorted features, as he apologized to you.

“Yeah, seriously, what are you getting so worked up for?” Connie innocently asked, before a knowing look crossed his features. He turned to his partner-in-crime, and the two donned shit-eating grins as they turned back to Jean.

“Right, that’s why.”

Bertholdt, whose lanky body had been horizontally lying across the bed comfortably, sat up onto his elbows and cluelessly asked, “What’s why?”

Sasha’s smile widened, and she crossed her arms, mimicking Connie’s knowing smirk. “It’s because Jean-boy, here, is sweet on our dear little—”

“Would you shut up!” Jean yelled louder than before, fists shaking in anger. His face was flushed an impossible shade of red, and you would’ve joined in on the laughter, had your head not exploded from the pain.

You were fully aware of the incessant teasing Jean received regarding his relationship with you, and you would honestly be lying if you said you didn’t get a kick out of it as well. Deciding to spare your friend today, you sent a good-natured smile to him, hoping that would be enough to quell his frustration.

Had you not turned to converse with Eren, you wouldn’t have missed Jean’s dazed smile.

While talking to Eren, your mind briefly drifted to Levi and the situation that was weighing heavily on you. You didn’t want to believe that the Captain hated you– you desperately grasped onto your excuse that he was simply a harsh teacher. And yet, you knew there was something more to it.

In a panic-driven moment, you momentarily wondered if he had somehow found out about your feelings for him. You remembered him telling you about his upbringing— you knew better than most that Levi and confessions of love did not go together... at all. Before you could further dig yourself deeper into the pitiful hole you had been in the past month, a painfully familiar voice broke through your intrusive thoughts.

“You know how loud you are? This isn’t a damn daycare.”

“Sir!”

All conversation in the room came to an abrupt halt. You couldn’t help but grow amused at the sight of Eren and Bertholdt scrambling off your bed to stand and salute their superior. Your small smile was wiped off your face when your eyes met stormy grey ones. You quickly looked down, before inhaling quickly and swiftly pulling your bedsheets back. You attempted to muster as much strength as you could, ignoring the multiple eyes on you. You gracefully stood up from the bed, and turned to Levi, managing the salute as well. You slowly looked up at him.

“Sir,” you shakily mumbled, internally cringing once again at the uncharacteristic rasp to your voice.

You received proud looks of admiration from your friends, though Jean’s remained more concerned than proud. Idiot! he thought to himself. We know you’re strong, now’s not the time to prove it!

Levi, meanwhile, had tried his very best to suppress the guilt that had been eating away at him for the past day; however, it had only worsened when he saw you and heard your weak voice. Upon making eye contact with you, he almost wanted to fall to his knees and apologize profusely for everything he had put you through, audience be damned.

Levi had spent the better half of the day pacing around your room in the infirmary wing of the Scout Regiment’s base, lost deeply in his thoughts, as his concern for you weighed heavily in his heart. After a few more hours of pacing, he had finally come to the conclusion that he was an idiot (a grade A, unique brand of idiot all in a league of his very own), and that he was in love with you.

Where the first realization annoyed him to high heaven, the second one brought him a sense of peace that was only heightened every time he had looked at your unconscious form.

Levi, uncomfortable with the amount of self-actualizing he had done that day, had left the room after softly caressing your cheek, hoping to convey all of his guilt and apologies and love into the simple gesture. Once he was away from the infirmary wing of the base, he inhaled deeply, itching for the comfort of a cup of warm tea. On his way to the mess hall, he had passed by your friends from the 104th, all undoubtedly on their way to see you. Levi’s eyebrow had slightly risen upon noticing the varying looks of defiance and anger on each of their faces. He had remained unfazed, his half-lidded eyes looking away, as if he hadn’t even seen them at all.

Somehow, it was harder to face them now with you standing amongst them.

His face retained its usual impassive and bored expression, yet it momentarily faltered when he noticed you slightly stumble from where you were standing next to the hospital bed. Levi’s heartbeat quickened, and he made a subtle move to rush over to you to catch you for the second time that day, but Jean was quicker. The taller man had been keeping a watchful eye on you, and had quickly dropped his salute to stand behind you and steady your slightly uncoordinated form. You comfortably relaxed backwards into his arms as you sent a grateful smile up at him, and he softly smiled back in response, leading you back to the bed.

Levi was both relieved and a little fucking pissed off.

“Visiting hours are over— I need to talk to the brat,” he lazily said, authority ringing loudly and clearly in his command.

For the first time in all his years of captaining the scouts, there was a quick hesitation after his command.

Levi raised an unamused eyebrow at each of the cadets, silently challenging them to disobey him. Despite his threatening aura, he wouldn’t blame any of your friends if they were to defy Levi. The Captain deserved it for his treatment of you— he’d take it like a man.

Your eyes widened in surprise when your friends subtly glanced at you, silently asking if it was okay to leave you alone with him. Upon hearing Levi’s request to talk to you, your heart had begun to uncontrollably race and you swore you could feel it in your throat. You were disappointed in yourself for growing excited at finally being able to talk to him.

Blinking quickly, your cheeks grew hot under everyone’s gazes, so you reassuringly smiled at your eight friends, and you once again felt the genuine love you had for them erupt within your heart.

Ever the peacemaker of the group, Armin signaled for the rest to follow him out of the room, and they each uncertainly walked behind him. Mikasa squeezed your hand once more before following closely behind Eren, who sent you an encouraging smile. Bertholdt subtly sent a thumbs up to you, while Reiner winked at you as he looked over his broad shoulder. Your smile widened; however, it faltered when your eyes met Jean’s. His irritated expression worried you, yet before you could respond, he turned away and walked past Levi.

Levi had to give it to Jean— not many people had the balls to openly glare at the Captain.

Once everyone was gone, the tension within the room increased tenfold. You looked at Levi, and you bit your lip in contemplation, anticipating what he would say. Many thoughts rang through your head.

Was it another punishment? Was he going to yell at me? Did he find out about my fee–

“How do you feel?”

You almost had to pinch yourself. After one month of barely any interactions with your friend— if you were still even allowed to call him that— you realized how starved you were for pleasant conversation with Levi.

“I’ve been better,” you breathed out, still cautious. “How… how do you feel?”

Even after such an unpleasant experience, your unwavering kindness shone just as brightly. Levi’s heart ached so sweetly, and he internally groaned upon realizing how fucking whipped he was.

He silently stepped forward, pulling a seat to the side of your bed. Once he was seated, Levi looked into your eyes, and you felt your breath hitch at the intensity of the swirl of emotions dancing within his normally cold eyes. He exhaled softly.

You noticed how tired he looked.

“Just peachy.”

There was a pregnant pause, and you came to realize that there was just too much you wanted to say to him, and you didn’t know where to start. Your soft eyes held his sharp gaze.

“You scared the shit out of me, brat.”

Your heart involuntarily skipped a beat, and your eyes widened in response.

“I did?” you internally slapped yourself at your stupid response.

“Yeah. You did.”

“Sorry, sir,” you softly mumbled.

“Levi… just Levi.”

The Levi in front of you was a completely different man from the one who you’ve had the pleasure of interacting with over the past month. You thought back to your friends and their anger at your mistreatment, and you thought of the many unfair punishments, cold shoulder treatments, and overworking during training (despite you being second only to Humanity’s Strongest, himself). Slowly, your incredulity at being treated like a lapdog began to dim and was replaced by your growing indignation. Though you were no stranger to standing up for yourself, you still felt your anxiety skyrocket as you looked back up at your superior.

“Do you hate me, Captain? Did I… did I do something?”

And there it was.

Levi knew the question would come up at some point, and yet he still felt ill-prepared in his response. He knew this was a big step for you— in the whole year that he’s gotten to know you, he learned how much you hated confrontation. You blatantly ignoring his request and choosing to address him by his title caught his attention, and he frowned. When he looked into your slightly watery eyes, a warmth spread throughout his chest, and he had to clear his throat.

“Don’t say shit like that, you haven’t done anything.”

Levi wanted to punch himself— he was never good with words.

You, however, weren’t fazed by the manner in which he spoke. You had fallen for the man, harsh words and all.

“Then why have you—” you paused as you momentarily lost your voice.

Levi thought it was cute (to be fair, he found everything about you endearing), yet he knew it would be inappropriate to openly admire you when you were so clearly upset with him.

“Sorry,” you grew embarrassed and licked your lips, “It’s just… well, why have you been ignoring me? And— and yelling at me? We stopped drinking tea together, and practicing in the forests. You don’t even acknowledge me when I talk to you! I’m sure you have a really good reason, sir, but I just—”

Levi detested the sick feeling of guilt that churned within his heart. In hindsight, he really should’ve thought it through before he began his little plan of distancing himself from you. How else was he supposed to tell you oh, everyone in the fucking Scout Regiment wants you, and so do I, but I haven’t done anything about it because I’m a pussy, so I just decided to take it out on you and wallow in my own self-pity like the sad little man I am, without sounding like he was deranged.

“—I just miss you.”

Levi’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch, and his breath hitched. This time it was the sincerity in your eyes that made him look away quickly.

“I…”

I’ve missed you too, dammit.

At his lack of a response, your eyebrows furrowed, and your irritation grew. Your small hands balled the soft bedsheet, and you swallowed to soften the burn in your throat before speaking.

“Why did you even come here?” you scoffed indignantly, attempting to mask your hurt, “Was it to just to yell at me some more? Oh, I know! Maybe I need to run through training ten more times again, right?”

The guilt churned even more in his chest, and Levi seriously wanted to punch himself. He willed himself to say something— anything— but he felt speechless in front of you.

“Levi,” you hoarsely spoke with desperation, and he looked into your watery eyes. “Say something, please.”

It was as if you had read his mind, and a slight feeling of reassurance quelled the storm in his heart; you really were the only one for him. As he met your eyes— your beautiful, enchanting eyes— he felt his self-hatred skyrocket at the amount of hurt in them. He had grown used to seeing them filled with humor, kindness, and a soft edge that was rare to find nowadays. Yet seeing them filled with such pain and hurt was unsettling, and Levi went mute for the fifth time that day.

You nodded in understanding when he failed to say anything, and your heart clenched. Jean had been right— you were nothing more than a lovesick puppy. You blinked quickly as a poor attempt to conceal your tears, yet nothing ever escaped the Captain’s attention.

His gaze softened, and Levi found out something else about himself— he really didn’t like seeing you cry.

“Shit, please don’t cry,” he tenderly mumbled, as he leaned closer to you and gently cupped your face to wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumb.

Your breath hitched and your full lips involuntarily parted. You relished in the warmth of his touch, and you wanted nothing more than to lean into his comforting hand. Your name fell from his lips, and you felt yourself come back to reality. Remembering just how you had gotten into this situation, you decided to stand your ground. Despite everything in your body begging to give in and accept this moment with the Captain, you stood unwavering in your decision.

You gently grabbed his large hand with both your hands, and moved it away from your face and into your lap. You held it there loosely and delicately rubbed your fingers over his hand soothingly before eventually stopping, and looking back up at him.

His usual bored expression was long gone, and in its place was a very tender and vulnerable expression. A storm was brewing in his grey eyes, and you distantly remembered stargazing once with him. You had desperately wished you could read his thoughts— somehow, you had found his daunting eyes more fascinating than the starry sky. You felt an ache in your heart at the intimate memories, and you really really wished Levi loved you the way you love him.

“You know what, Levi? It doesn’t even matter if you hate me, because—” you inhaled sharply.

This has to be done, you reassured yourself, or else you’d be subjecting yourself to an onslaught of hurt and heartbreak.

“—Because I hate you.”

Your lip quivered and your broken voice faltered. And of course, Levi noticed.

His eyes darted down to your lips at the slight movement. His hands had stilled, and he decided that getting eaten by a damn titan would be much less painful than this.

And then he’s looking at you. You looked back at him, yet he’s looking at you— through you— in that way that makes you want to hide and hold your ground at the same time.

“Right,” Levi drawled, and you knew he didn’t believe you (hell, you were unconvinced yourself). His eyes reverted back to their cold nature, and he ran a hand through his hair, allowing the silky strands to softly land against his forehead.

He stood up, and wordlessly gave you a onceover. Under his scrutiny, you felt yourself grow insecure, but deep down you desperately hoped he’d stay. You bit your bottom lip in apprehension, and Levi’s eyes softened at the sight of your nervous habit.

How is it that he could kill titans all the livelong day yet when it came to this sweet girl, so small and disarming, he couldn’t even utter a single word?

Levi had never felt more pathetic. He peered down at you, momentarily debating whether it would be right for him to attempt one last thing before finally deciding fuck it, and gently cupping your cheek for the third time that day, bending down, and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. He gingerly inhaled your enticing scent, appreciating how even after the hell he had put you through, you still smelled so alluring.

You were positive that Levi could hear your heartbeat. You blinked many times in disbelief, as he pulled away and sent one last lingering gaze down at you.

Levi slightly smirked at the pretty blush that had colored your cheeks, his half-lidded eyes drinking in the mesmerizing sight of you sitting up in your bed and gaping up at him, your cheeks flushed and wet with the remnants of your tears. He turned around and silently left the room.

He had ignored every part of his body that begged him to stay.

▲▼▲

“Shut up, I can barely hear them!”

“Ow— Bertholdt, you’re stepping on my foot!”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Watch it, horse face!”

“Eren.”

“You piece of shit, I’m—”

The piece of bread that had been tightly held in Sasha’s grip suddenly fell to the floor. Everyone went silent.

“Holy shit, I think… I think he just kissed her.”

Jean really hoped Sasha was wrong.

He decided to ignore the fact that her freakishly good hearing bordered on supernatural, so there was really no way she could’ve been wrong with a mere wooden door standing between her and the conversation.

“I knew there was something going on between them! Reiner— pay up.”

Reiner muttered several curses under his breath as he pulled out a hefty stack of cash from his pocket. Connie’s grin widened.

Armin had glanced up at Jean, slightly alarmed at the dark expression on his face. Before he could comfort his friend, the door suddenly opened. Everyone scrambled to straighten themselves up, attempting to act like they hadn’t been just eavesdropping on the entire conversation between you and the Captain.

A chorus of sir’s rang throughout the large hallway, and Levi grew amused at the sight before him. His lips twitched upwards, and the cadets had to almost physically stop their mouths from dropping open at the sight. Levi’s ghost of a smile disappeared when his eyes met Jean’s seething ones.

The two held each other’s gazes, Levi’s expression being cool, while Jean’s had been irritated. Levi was not a fucking idiot; he knew the kid was in love with you.

Join the fucking club.

Levi, realizing that this was the exact reason he had gotten himself into that mess with you and not really wanting to sour his somewhat good mood, looked away from Jean to nod at the group of your friends.

“As you were.”

He brushed past Jean, his gaze as intimidating as ever, as he silently walked down the hallway. Jean’s fists clenched tightly. Once Levi had turned the corner, the group exploded into chatter, their reactions varying from stunned to adoring.

Jean really really fucking hoped Sasha was wrong.

▲▼▲

Your horse trotted proudly through the vast landscape, the wind blew through your open hair, your friends teased each other amicably, and your excitement grew at finally being cleared to join the scouts on their next expedition. Though you hadn’t been getting much sleep lately, and you’ve been a little too preoccupied to eat much, nothing could bring your mood down at this moment.

You were alongside your friends as you all followed the section commanders as their horses galloped into the edge of the forest. The mission for today was to exterminate any titans who had wandered too close to the walls. A simple mission, and you were more than capable.

You had been in a great mood.

Until your eyes landed on Levi.

He had been further up, leading his own squad. He had turned around to respond to Gunther, and that’s when his eyes had met yours. Your internal conflict grew, and you ultimately ended up averting your eyes and ignoring him, deciding to maintain your cold treatment towards him.

Him kissing your head had only further confused you, despite the sweet butterflies you felt every time you thought back to it. Levi’s treatment towards you had unexpectedly changed since that day in the infirmary, and it had reverted to the way it was before his sudden aversion to you, though there was something much sweeter in his actions. You swore you were getting whiplash.

Though he had been significantly kinder to you, you had held your ground, unrelenting in your declaration. Part of you was terrified that if you gave in and became comfortable, he’d suddenly return back to the yelling, the punishments, and the overworking. Part of you also didn’t want to face reality— your feelings were unreciprocated, and they would only serve to bring you a world of heartache and sadness.

Your cold shoulder towards him was nothing compared to the way he had treated you. Yours mainly consisted of avoiding him, and when that wasn’t an option and you had to interact with him, you kept it civil and short. Your heart would ache, but you knew it was for the best. It helped that Jean would offer approving smiles and words of encouragement, even going as far as to smirk when you had ignored the Captain.

Levi, meanwhile, had frowned when he noticed that you ignored him. Again.

In all honesty, he did deserve it, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt like a bitch. He grew irked at your display. Levi hoped you would understand that him kissing your head and showing affection towards you was his grand confession of love. You knew he was shit with words, and he hoped that that would be enough.

He was sadly fucking mistaken.

His attention had been on you the whole mission. Even when the scouts had to dismount from the horses to use the ODM gear through the trees, he had somehow managed to keep a watchful eye on you. You were graceful as ever as you flew through the trees, though his observing gaze noticed that your reaction time was noticeably slower than normal. He had also noticed the dark circles under your usually bright eyes, and he grew worried upon noticing your overall state.

Levi, himself, wasn’t faring much better. He was getting virtually no sleep, running completely on caffeine, adrenaline, and pure will, yet he still made sure he was in excellent shape when it came to these missions— humanity was resting on his shoulders, after all.

The firing of a flare gun in the distance indicated that the group would be encountering titans— a lot of titans— from the left. The soldiers prepared, all eyes focused on the left. You had conveniently taken up the right-most end of the formation, and your attention had also been on the left, your blades held tightly in your hands.

It was only by chance that Levi decided to glance down at you as he soared above you in the middle of the formation. Your eyes met once again, and Levi’s heart lurched at the beautiful sight, when movement behind you immediately caught his attention. A large abnormal with the ability to jump from tree to tree had suddenly appeared and made an attempt to grab you. Your attention had been solely on Levi, so you hadn’t noticed, especially over the roar of the wind in your ears.

Levi’s eyes widened, and he yelled out your name. The rich baritone of his deep voice reached your ears, and you turned slightly behind you, yet you reacted too slowly. Your body jerked backwards, flying so far from the group. You flew through the air at such a great speed that it took you by surprise when you slammed against a tree as the wires of your ODM gear grew tangled. The abnormal had missed you— barely. Your head slammed against the tree and you felt the wind knocked out of your body at the impact.

You whimpered at the hell of a hospital stay you’d have to face after this.

The abnormal almost seemed to be grinning wider upon realizing that it had successfully subdued you. You attempted to quickly stand up, though your body yelled in agony at the movement. Willing yourself to fight back, you shakily stood up, tightly gripping your blades that had miraculously not fallen to the ground throughout the struggle. You winced at the searing pain that shot through your head, yet you clenched your teeth in determination. Realizing that your gear was broken and therefore useless, you quickly discarded yourself of it, and felt some of the tension in your body alleviate now that you were significantly lighter.

“The hell is she doing?” Jean yelled incredulously from his spot next to Levi, and the other members of the group looked on in shock as they all attempted to make it to you in time.

“She’s fighting back,” Levi spoke through gritted teeth, his worry for you eating him alive. His eyebrows were furrowed in stress and anxiety, and he was now soaring impossibly fast through the trees in order to reach you.

Stupid brat. Stupid, resilient, little brat.

“Attagirl!” Oluo and Eld cheered, and Petra shoved them, warning them to stop their blatant ogling in the middle of a dangerous mission. They skillfully dodged her attack, grinning at their adept use of the ODM gear.

A noise towards the side caught their attention, and the group realized the titans they had been anticipating were now in sight. Levi coolly assessed the shitty situation, before commanding that most of the soldiers take care of the titans, while Levi, his squad, and some of the 104th’s cadets would assist you. The group split up, and Levi turned his attention back to you, his heart thumping against his chest.

As the titan made a move to grab you, you exhaled quickly to focus before skillfully jumping onto its elongated arm and running quickly towards its nape. You were defying gravity as you gained speed the higher you went. The titan wasn’t stupid, and it began to grab you with its other arm, yet you anticipated its move. You lithely dodged it, executing a quick front flip as you narrowly escaped its grasp once again.

This was it!

You saw your opening. You leaped forward and pushed your feet against its shoulder as hard as you could, soaring high up in the air above the titan. Muscle memory served you well, and you thought back to the training circuit that had mimicked a situation almost exactly like this one. You gracefully began to spin yourself faster and faster, your cape billowing behind you as you finally readied your blades for the final blow. You yelled out, as your head pain worsened. As a result, your maneuver faltered slightly, almost imperceptible to the human eye. The titan noticed.

It lashed a large hand out again, attempting to grab you, but it accidentally slapped your body away. You cried out in pain, and you flew in the direction of your friends, hurtling towards the ground. You were falling so fast, and you felt yourself grow dizzy from being chucked around so much in the last five minutes.

Eren yelled out your name, a whimper stuck in his throat at the sight of your almost lifeless body spiraling downwards. Jean’s eyes widened, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it in time.

Levi’s heart stopped upon witnessing the titan slap your body with so much force. You were plummeting towards the ground at an impossible speed, and he didn’t even think twice before withdrawing his ODM gear’s hooks and diving towards you within the blink of an eye. His cape flew behind him, and a determined glint had overtaken his angry features.

You had been bordering between consciousness and unconsciousness, yet the sight above you had been so clear that it almost felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. Your long hair flew around you, creating a curtain around your face, as you looked up at Levi. He had dived towards you, his jaw so tightly clenched. His muscular long arm began reaching out to you. The ground was quickly approaching, and you felt a sense of serenity at the sight of your Captain, despite your confusion and the severity of this situation.

“Levi,” you mumbled, smiling softly.

His face dropped upon seeing the calm expression on your face, and he willed himself to go faster, a number of expletive curses ringing through his head.

That damn titan. Did it know how small you were? How precious you were?

He spun himself slightly to gain momentum, and he saw you were just within reach. Levi confidently stretched his strong arm out even more, managing to wrap his hand around your arm. He swiftly pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your waist, while the other hand cradled your head protectively against his broad chest. He swiftly flipped himself around to face his body upwards, further ensuring he’d take the majority of the blow in case you two ended up hitting the ground, and shot both of his ODM gear’s hooks into a nearby tree, propelling both of you away from the ground and towards the high branch. You fleetingly realized how familiar this position felt.

Once Levi safely landed, he kneeled, and supported your body against his thigh as he continued to hold you in his arms. He quickly looked over his shoulder, and could make out the sight of the titan falling to the ground. All the members of his squad seemed alive and well, so he turned his attention back to you. His eyes quickly darted over your face, desperately searching for any obvious injuries.

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of Levi running his hands through your hair and over your cheeks. The Levi in front of you was leagues different from the cool and composed one you had come to know. He had a frantic look in his eyes, his jaw clenched tightly, as he desperately peered down at you.

“Le… Levi?” You mumbled, your voice still a little hoarse from your recent infirmary stay.

“You are so precious to me, you hear me?” He lowly spoke, panic and anger and a whole plethora of emotions coloring his normally deadpan voice.

Your jaw fell open and you were almost positive you were suffering from a mean concussion, and this was a hallucination. “Wha—”

“You’re a fucking brat— an incredibly frustrating, resilient little brat— but you’re mine.”

You dazedly looked up at him, and you realized how close his face was to yours. His muscular chest was heaving up and down, and a small droplet of sweat dripped down from his hairline. Levi’s handsome features held nothing but adoration for you, and in that moment nothing could bring you down from the high you were experiencing. You felt his warm hands cup your cheek once more, a habit he seemed to be fond of.

“You want a fucking declaration of love? Here it is— if anything happens to you, I swear I’ll kill every titan on this piece of shit planet,” he spoke, surprisingly unbothered with how vulnerable he was being with you. He moved closer to you, his forehead nearly resting on your own. “I don’t give a fuck if you hate me or not. You’re mine, and I’m yours. And that’s all there is to it.”

Your hand creeped up to grasp the wrist of the hand that had been caressing your face, and you tightened your fingers around it. He froze, momentarily wondering if you were rejecting his confession, and he internally groaned at the thought.

There’d be no coming back from this one.

“You’re mine?” You shakily asked, a gloriously beautiful smile slowly gracing your features.

“That’s what I said,” he mumbled, attempting to conceal how lovestruck he felt at your smile.

“After… after we get home and I get some medical attention, you’re going to have to kiss me, alright? I’m—”

You were cut off by his lips pressing against your own. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you relished in the soft feeling of his lips molding against yours. You felt an indescribable warmth erupt in your chest, and you whimpered against Levi’s lips. His kiss was soft and warm, a huge contrast to the Levi from this past month. He pulled away just as quickly as he had bent down.

“One for the road,” he simply explained, glancing down at you. He internally smirked at the pretty blush coloring your cheeks— he was always fond of the sight.

▲▼▲

“You’re not serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

You stifled your giggles at Levi’s straight face. Your expression still showed your disbelief at what he had just told you.

“I’m not an idiot, Levi, I know how some people look at me,” you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Even the Commander?”

“Oh, I’m working my way up through the ranks right now, can’t you tell?” You teased, gesturing down to your intertwined bodies, as you both faced each other in his warm bed.

“You’re funny, brat,” he deadpanned, no heat and all fondness as he affectionately pinched your cheeks.

You snuggled deeper into his chest, savoring the warmth that you were enveloped in. You were wearing his shirt— still warm and smelling strongly of him— and you inhaled softly as your face pressed deeper into his chest. Somehow, the slight aftermath of your headache from the recent expedition began to dull slightly.

“I’m sorry again,” Levi murmured, softly cradling your head against his chest.

“Really? I couldn’t tell the first five hundred times you said so,” you teased, looking up at him. Your breath hitched at the sight of his face angled down towards you, dark wisps of hair falling over his eyes and structured face. Levi was so painfully handsome, you could feel your heart flutter.

His eyes were intense, and his guilt continued to stir within his stomach. Seemingly able to read his mind, you pressed a chaste kiss to his warm chest.

“Idiot,” you mumbled, “I really wouldn’t care if the King himself came up to me and proposed, and you know exactly why.”

“Humor me.”

“Terrifying guy, goes by the name of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier?”

He chuckled lowly, the deepness of his voice vibrating through his chest, and your insides turned to mush. Feeling relieved at successfully pulling Levi out of his little hole of guilt, you yawned softly. Your bruised ribs still ached at times, yet you ignored it this time to cuddle deeper into Levi, who was also on the verge of sleep.

He was sleepily looking down at you, observing your attempts to get comfortable in his embrace, and he softly smiled to himself. His muscular arms tightened around you, one of his hands coming to rest on the soft curve of your hip. He relished in the fact that sleep would be coming easily to him with you here. Levi had surprised himself with how easily he was able to show his affections toward you, and he chalked it up to that being further proof that you really were the only one for him.

He felt a warmth come from the sweet pang in his chest, and it spread throughout his entire body. Levi had learned to associate that feeling with you.

His eyes closed silently, and you pressed one last kiss to his chest.

“Precious,” he mumbled, “Precious little brat.”

▲▼▲

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #attack on titan #attack on titan fic #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #levi aot #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot #request #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein x reader

296 notes · View notes

bluebuckstallion · 3 years ago

Text

the sun will rise again - mlp fic

part two this is part one! part two and so on will be updated/reblogged when they are out! contents: aj and big mac are like. 13 and 15. big mac realizes she is a trans woman, and is guided by applejack, but there is much more to it than just that lol. its also a little hard for her. sappy, feel-good, tough internal conflict but overall happy fic. paragraph one is previewed here, the rest is below the cut! (note: i am aware my blog makes posts a little hard to read bc of a glitch, i am trying to fix it at the moment, i apologize D: i rec reading it on tumblr mobile or highlighting the words as you read, im sorry!)

Big Mac shuffled his hooves awkwardly. Racing thoughts fought furiously, cluttering his hurting head, and he put a weary hoof against his temple in an attempt to clear the fog. No avail. It was as strong as ever, the rushing current of rip tide sweeping him in the more he struggled. He insisted he'd never felt this way before, trying violently to shake away the thought, it made him shudder. But deep down somewhere he knew, he couldn't hide this strong feeling he'd become so familiar with. It felt like home, but he was trapped inside with the windows boarded and the floorboards were so old they were making him fall through with every step, and there were thick dusty cobwebs everywhere he tried to rest his burdened hooves. He couldn't leave. Outside of his overflowing head, there was a faint knocking at his door, though he had tuned it out completely. His thoughts whirled, and everything was making *so* much noise, the ceiling fan, the electricity in the walls, the birds outside, even the trees being rustled by the evening wind. Everything was so loud, and so muffled and far away, so close and inside his ears, they twitched eagerly trying to bat the harsh noise away, all collected into one horrid ear-piercing amalgamation of staticy sound. His fur was disturbed by his blankets, and his teeth felt uncomfortable as they grit desperately in an attempt to relax, his eyes were dry despite how much and how hard he was blinking, it felt like even the smallest thing would throw him overboard in this thundering storm of unsettlement. -

The knocking got louder. "Big Mac!" The sound was lost in the chaos of it all, but it prevailed. "Big Mac!" There it was again. It didn't quite reach him yet, though. But my, was it there. Incessant. Pounding. Oh, the headache of it all. Just adding to the pile. It hesitated. "Big Mac." The gentle coo reached him, piercing through the overwhelmingly loud silence in the air, he felt this odd choking sensation in his throat when he registered the voice, so familiar and so loving. But would it continue to be after this? The thought scared him. Fear struck his spine in striking bolts, waves of dread sulked, creeping in and making their nest in his aching body. He was so tired of coming back to this again and again, but it plagued his mind like a cold. He realized his internal monologue had been ongoing - even though it hadn't really spoke - but alas he had been lost in his own downward spiral of paranoia again, and had forgotten to respond. "Yu- uh- eeyup?" he stuttered out like he was drowning, he felt and sounded like a silly foal learning to walk for the first time again. He pushed his hoof lightly against his throat, shocked at his own lack of voice. Usually he was calm and confident, knowing what he wanted to say, despite how little it ever was. However he feared this would give way to his sister finding out, that she would know something was awry with him. "Can I, uh, come in?" the voice questioned. He nodded, then processed he had forgotten to use his words, and managed a sheepish "Yup." "Uh, okay." She responded equally as softly, her voice leaving a tinge of confusion to be interpreted. Applejack trotted in, her hooves making the wood beneath her creak as the old house settled. She nudged the door shut behind her nonchalantly with her back hoof, not taking her gaze off of what was ahead of her. She made a gesture towards Big Mac's bed and tilted her head, knowing he was a horse of few words, moreso when he got this way. And goodness, how he could manage to get into his own head. Applejack understood the feeling, more than he was letting on. Applejack got up and sat down awkwardly, glancing at her hooves as they, too, dragged over one another slowly, she never did like eye contact. Big Mac was more fidgety - he was straight-up restless, as he clapped his hooves together ceaselessly, clicking them atop one another with a hard "Clink." The silence was substantial, but it wasn't like it bothered them, usually. It drove Big Mac up the wall, he was sweating buckets thinking about what Applejack could possibly say. *Did she find out? Does she know? Does she hate me? She hates you. She knows and she hates you. She'll never forgive you. She'll never see you the same-* his thoughts were cut off abruptly. "So, big brother," she chuckled stiffly, "what's on your mind?" Blunt and to the point. She looked upward briefly, catching a glimpse of his face, caught in an uncomfortable twist as his mouth hung downward and his eyes sunk, staring blankly ahead. Neither of them looked at the other, but this again, was not unusual. When she said 'brother,' the word stung like a mosquito bite. It was barely there, but just enough to irritate him. And it grew bigger the more he picked away at it and gave it the time of day. Maybe if he just ignored it it'd heal itself, he thought. Her words in general hung high above his head, and he had forgotten to respond with the way he was over-analyzing it a million different ways inside. What was on his mind, besides this scary, burning question gnawing him alive? He gave a lackluster response to divert any inkling of anxiety, "Oh, nothing," and with that he kicked his back hooves loosely up, and they swung back down heavily in the empty air. What else could he say? The silence sat for a couple of seconds. Too long for Applejack's liking, she was growing a bit impatient with his lack of answers. She looked up and moved her head upward in tune with her eyes, rolling her head from one shoulder to the other as her lips pouted and she let out a quick exhale. She looked down at her teetering hooves again. "Nothing..." she repeated, tapping her hooves together about three times, give or take, she wasn't paying attention. "Oookay.." she said in a quiet tone, and the cadence in her voice had shifted after this minute or two of waiting. She scratched the back of her ear. "Well, if you won't tell me, I'll figure it out myself." She looked up and beamed what was supposed to be a reassuring smile, which came out rather awkward. It fell just as awkwardly. She wasn't the best at conveying emotion, but neither was Big Mac. They had that in common. "Ok, I'll spit it out, rapid-fire," she said funnily, holding her hooves up and moving one in front of the other and back again in tune with the quirky enunciation of the last word. If nothing else, she was making an attempt to lift his low spirit. She inhaled, "Is it about me? About Ma or Pa? *Granny?* Baby Bloom?" and with that she exhaled overexaggeratedly. It took a second, but the half-smile she had faded from her face as he stood there saying nothing, simply folding one hoof over his other arm, rubbing it rigidly and looking away, and what she hoped was not true, had hit her. It was about himself. "Oh.. brother," she whispered to him, "You can tell me anything," she reached her hoof up toward him, pulling it back when it was halfway there as she winced at his lack of response, not even a lean-in to her gesture, but she continued anyway. She gingerly put her hoof on his shoulder. Becoming more confident with her comforting, she rubbed his back gently. "So it's about you?" He took a second, and nodded somberly. "Hey, that's alright. Tell me what's on your mind for real now, when you're ready. If, you're ready." AJ's voice, he found, was quite calming. Big Mac shot a glance at her timidly, then down at her hooves, and back up at her, but he couldn't look too long in order to stop the waterworks from coming. He gulped dryly and looked at the wall, and after the ceiling. He watched the fan dodder decrepitly, but so sure of itself, it's purpose, rotating on it's axis, again, and again, and again. He wished he could be so sure of himself, he wasn't sure if he ever could be, though. And here, he found himself envying the rotating of a ceiling fan. What an interesting moment, he thought sarcastically to himself. Was this really where he was at? He zoned out briefly, watching the blades go in circles, and then snapped himself back to reality with a hard blink, a downward motion of his head, and a squeezing of his hooves. "I..." he started softly and then trailed off. He sighed in dejection. "I- Well, I am me. But... I'm not. I look in the mirror, and it's not me looking back. I know that sounds... stupid, but it's not me. It's not like it isn't who I am, it's just not me. And I, don't know why. I mean I think I do, but I don't - sometimes-" He took a second to collect himself and inhaled, exhaling sharply after, he put his hoof firmly against his chest, as if almost trying to coax the words out. "I'm me, but I'm not. I'm not who I'm meant to be, I, I was born wrong. My body is wrong," he shook his head, like trying to shake the bad thoughts away. "It's not mine. I was born with something wrong about me, outside, inside I'm me, but outside I'm not. But - I'm not bad or anything, it's just that there was something different. And, you know that funny feeling of those butterflies in your tummy when someone you like says your name? I'll get that, but I won't recognize my name as mine, but I do get that feeling when...ponies accidentally call me what they call fillies, even though they don't mean to and fix 'emselves right after, and they act like it's so wrong, but I still get that funny feeling of, goodness. It catches me off guard in the best way... my heart skips a beat. And I know I'm s'posed to like girls, but there was something wrong about me lovin' 'em... it feels like. I feel real guilty-like when I start getting all lovey about one. It feels like I'm not allowed, like there's somethin'.." he teared up, "different. About me." He emphasized the last word quite significantly. He began to finish, not wordvomitting as much as he was before, instead saying it slowly, as if he was really trying hard to get his thoughts out. "I- I think, I think if I were born in the right body I'd be happier, but I don't want to change me, I just...want to change how people *see me."* Applejack raised her eyebrows and looked down, pushing her hooves together. She couldn't move, and she didn't. Big Mac's welling up had turned to a tear, gently rolling down his cheek. He held his breath, eyes darting back and forth from his sister's gaze - or lack thereof. Applejack held her breath as well. "Big mac, well - gosh." she let out staggeredly, anxiously chuckling, raising her hoof to her chest as she exhaled bluntly. Big Mac felt it coming, Roaring and Crashing. The water was surrounding him still, no matter how subtle it was before, it had been growing this whole time. Internal dread multiplying like a bilious bacteria, out to get him and cover him in it's killing spores. It must've been at least neck-high now. AJ chuckled, "Big Mac, I love you no matter what. You're my family." She looked him in the eyes, "It's gonna be ok." And there was the straw that broke the camel's back. It came through gently, like a soft breeze through his hair in summer, but it broke him so, so ruthlessly. He bit at his bottom lip and released, his mouth turning to a shaky U-shaped frown, and he bawled. Oh, how he bawled. He lunged for his sister's arms, which quickly opened for him to land in. Applejack huffed as the wind left her with his impact, but she regained control of herself and softly smiled, tenderly hugging him back. His head rested on hers, as hers on his. "It's alright big guy," she laughed. "In fact, I think I know exactly what's up." She pushed him off cautiously, and held her hoof against his shoulder. His tears subsided slightly, he wiped them with a trembling hoof. "Have you ever thought that maybe you feel like you're in the wrong body, because you're really a mare? I know nobody sees you that way right now, but I could start if that's who you really are." Big mac's pupils constricted, and he felt a leap in his chest. A mare? He tried so hard to push it out, but he couldn't. A mare. A mare! He let out a small smile, "A mare..." he then promptly shook his head. "But, I can't be. I wish it was that easy, that I could just be a mare, oh I wish so bad AJ," he put his hooves together and shook them, like he was pleading. He pushed her hoof off of him, sighing and speaking again, his voice cracking from the tears and raw emotion, "But I never could. I couldn't. I wish I could, but I'm not allowed to." he sighed defeatedly. Applejack chuckled, "Says who? All it takes is you saying you can. And I'll be honest, I feel like a lot of people don't give it much thought whether they want to be a mare or not - they just are." It all clicked. They, just are. He processed it for a second, and thought, and the thoughts slipped into words, "I'm a mare," he whispered. He smiled, the most genuine smile he'd ever shown. "I'm, a mare." He laughed, looking at Applejack. "A mare! I'm a mare!" His smile faded slightly, "But Applejack, am I still allowed to like other fillies? I figure now I'll have to like colts, that's what I've heard at least, and I really don't want to-" despite his concerns, he still looked quite euphoric. Applejack laughed again, "No, Big Mac, you can still like mares. It doesn't work that way I'm pretty sure." She rubbed the back of her head, "If it's any help, you can do whatever you want... What feels right." She closed her mouth and grinned, waving her hoof in the air dismissively of any negativity, her eyes in the other direction. Stopping, she looked at the ground and fiddled her hooves, "I, I actually know a lot about how you're feeling," she spoke nervously, cautiously, dancing around her words like she had something she didn't want to admit to herself as well. "I, know how you feel - about liking mares and, and the wrong body an' stuff. Feeling like your body isn't yours, it doesn't belong to you and never will, unless you make a big change, or somethin'. I get it. I feel wrong when people say I'm a girl, but I don't reckon I'd feel right with them callin' me a boy or something either - I don't think I really feel like either." She paused, cutting herself off, "I don't expect that to make sense to you, I know it's kind of weird and all." Big Mac thought for a bit, and then nodded, "No, I get it. I mean - I don't, but, I know you're you, no matter what, and I don't care who you are, you're still my sibling." Big Mac smiled nervously, trying to make sure he was doing the right thing. "And you're my sister, Big Mac," Applejack smiled back at him. "Now, how do you feel about me calling you by girl terms? Like, sayin' she, and stuff..." she struggled to think of an example. "Oh! Like, if I meet someone, I'll tell 'em "Oh Big Mac? She's my big sister!" Applejack let out a wide twinkling grin, feeling confident and proud with supporting her sister's feelings. "I, I like that." Big Mac said shyly, and she did. "Wait, how do I do the same for you?" she questioned. Applejack stalled, she really didn't think she'd get this far. "I think... I really like being called he, and brother and such. Although to be honest I'm not your sister and I'm not really your brother, and I still like other fillies - but I'm not one of them, or not in the same way, and - I don't know, it's a little confusing. I think the only way that I'm a filly is in the sense that I'm a mare who likes other mares. I don't really know what any of this is called," he voiced embarrassedly. "I wish I did." Big Mac smirked, "It's okay you don't, I don't know either. And we can learn together, little brother." She fluffed Applejack's hair playfully and her smirk became a toothy smile. Applejack laughed and joined her smiling. "Thanks," he said, quite gratefully. "To be honest, I've known this for a really long time, I just didn't know how to say it," he looked out the window longingly, "I wish I knew how to tell Ma and Pa, or Granny," he laughed a little, "and I don't even know how to tell a baby," he uttered, trying to lighten the mood a little after bringing it back down. Big mac grinned, "Why don't we go out to the orchard, little brother?"

#applejack mlp #big mac mlp #mlp fanfic #mlp fic #mlp writing #mlp au #mlp #applejack #big mac #trans applejack #trans big mac #my little pony #lesbian applejack #lesbian big mac #orchard blossom #trans au #the sun will rise again

32 notes · View notes

thespianbooks · 4 years ago

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 22//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Just in time for ACOSF’s release tomorrow! Enjoy chapter 22!

XXX

The entire estate was abuzz with activity in preparation for the encounter with Keir and his legion of rebels. As predicted, once Rhys and the other High Lords had lifted the wards from our armed forces, Kallon alerted the steward and frantically gathered the Illyrian numbers he rallied for his rebellion. We had all been surprised when Azriel's reports indicated that those numbers had dropped—not significantly, but enough to know that we now had an advantage over the Illyrians. Those who abandoned Kallon's Illyrian rebels appeared at neither camp, leaving Cassian to assume they were remaining indifferent to either side. Regardless, they would be dealt with after this ordeal.

Through this nightmare, my heart not only ached for my mate—for the pain he endured knowing it was his mother's people who sought to betray him, but for Cassian as well. He commanded those armies, fought at their side through two wars, trained in their camps and, in spite of their ire, sought their approval. Their losses were his as well, and he took the brunt of the blame onto himself, along with their distaste. From the beginning, I saw the pain that swirled behind those hazel eyes; knowing despite everything he did, how hard he tried, they saw him as nothing more than a bastard-born Illyrian and aspired to bring him and his brothers down.

In the two days it took for Keir and his Darkbringers to arrive at Ironcrest, amidst the frenzy that ensued at the estate while every High Lord present worked and met with us in order to prepare, I tried time and time again to find a moment alone with Cassian. I wasn't sure what I would say, how I would comfort him, but I at least wanted to offer him some kind of support. He had spent the last several months, the duration of my pregnancy, trying to set me at ease; promising an end to the coup and the rebel Illyrians, all the while his own inner turmoil caused him a great deal of pain that was long-stemmed. It was my turn now to offer him some peace in the hours leading up to a confrontation he previously hoped would never occur.

By the time I managed to find the general, I had thought he was alone in the library—only seeing his winged shadow outside the double doors, until I heard Nesta's voice mingling with his in a tense and hushed conversation. I had been too far away from the doors to hear their discussion, but based on how impassioned my sister's low voice sounded, I knew better than to interrupt. Ever since opening up to me about her loss and her time with Cassian in the mountains, Nesta again began to warm towards me. She still held onto that powerful veneer, but I was glad to see that she no longer used it to push me away. Instead, she surprised my mate and I by showing up in Rhys's office with Cassian just moments before our morning meeting. With Keir and Kallon officially together at the Ironcrest camp, this would be our last assembly before all the High Lords and our forces left.

"I'll be going to this encounter," Nesta said after we concluded the session. "Since my sister is unable to travel in her condition, I will be going in her stead; as a representative of the High Lady of the Night Court."

I stared at her in disbelief, shocked that she not only acknowledged my position, but that she was volunteering to face a potentially violent conflict—for me. Despite the healthier state of mind she was in a decade later, I knew the events that took place with Hybern were still raw for her; as they still were for me. Yet here she was now, offering to represent my position in our court. I glanced at Cassian, but judging by his arrogant smirk, he already knew of her plans. I briefly exchanged a look with Rhys, a small smile on his face, but his eyes conveyed a very simple response: it was up to me.

I paused as I turned to look at my sister. Her chin set and hands clasped formerly across her abdomen as her grey-blue eyes stared intensely at mine. "Are you sure?" I asked, unable to help but be a little hesitant.

She simply nodded, unyielding. "It isn't right. For me to sit idle, when I am capable. After what happened last time-" she paused, thinking back to the attack on Velaris—when we had been housed safely in the Cabin with Elain. "You have your health, your youngling, to worry about. As your eldest sister, I can do more. I can represent you and your position in this court."

My eyes burned as I dipped my head in approval. "Thank you, Nesta."

"Well this will be a welcome addition," Helion mused. "Given how the Illyrians quake in her presence."

"Perhaps some may drop their weapons at the very sight of her," Thesan added.

"That may be wishful thinking," Tarquin said, though he too acknowledged the unnerving demeanor my sister possessed.

We all did, and knew that her attendance would no doubt send a clear message in this coup. Her powers were still unknown to us, whether she knew of them or not—she never said, but the lethal aura about her remained as strongly as it had the day she'd been made.

"If no one else has anything to add, then I say it's time," Rhys said with a look at the other High Lords, their entourages, and then at me.

My eyes still burned as I met his, my heart pounding in my chest and I wondered if he could hear it—feel it, down the bond. When no one else spoke up, he cleared his throat. "I will take Feyre up to the Cabin and meet you all at the designated camp just outside of Ironcrest," he said.

"I'll meet you there with Viviane and Eira once they are ready, it shouldn't be long, and your shadowsinger has shared the coordinates of where I should winnow," Kallias added.

Azriel nodded at the High Lord of Winter before addressing us. "I will bring Elain at the same time the High Lord and Lady of Winter arrive," he said quietly.

"Thank you Azriel," I said, quickly swiping at a stray tear.

The emotion laced in my words was indication enough for everyone to leave and attend to any last minute preparations. They were gone in a matter of seconds, but I hardly noticed; unable to look away from Rhys's violet eyes. With the room cleared, he stepped closer, holding my face gently as he brushed away the tears that began to fall in earnest.

"I know I can't go, but," I sniffed. "I don't know how I'll be able to part with you, knowing the danger you face. I...I…"

Rhys pressed his brow against mine as I wept and held me closer. For days my hormones had left me anxious for the moment my mate would leave with the others and put an end to Keir and his betrayal; so, I allowed myself to give into those emotions and the tears that accompanied them. These precious seconds in my mate's arms were just what I needed in order to feel at ease—to let him go while I stayed behind with our unborn child. Once my crying subsided, I lifted my eyes to his again and pulled back just enough to now hold his face in my hands and stare into his sparkling violet eyes.

"Don't let him get a rise out of you. You are a warrior, and warriors know when to pick their fights," I began, reiterating the very words he said to me during the war with Hybern. "Their crimes won't go unpunished. You are the High Lord of the Night Court, night triumphant. You go there, put an end to this treachery, and come back to me—to us, alive." I said fiercely, my voice quavering as our breaths mingled.

Rhysand's answering grin was slow as he nodded his head. "I swear it, High Lady," he said before pulling me into a deep kiss.

XXX

Even with my mate's promise, I couldn't help pacing about the living area of the Cabin once he, Kallias, and Azriel left. Elain and Viviane eyed me warily as I moved, Eira peacefully sleeping in a small cradle Viviane had brought along and placed just beside the leather sofa.

"Feyre, why don't you come rest?" Viviane urged as she stood, crossing over to where I had stopped pacing and began rubbing a sore spot on my lower back.

I shook my head. "I can't sit still," I said as my only reply.

It was true. The uncertainty of the events unfolding at this very moment left me restless. Until I knew Rhysand, our allies, and my friends and family were safe, I would remain on edge.

Viviane touched my shoulder gently. "You do know that walking around so vigorously can stimulate the body into going into early labor? If you keep pacing around here like this, you might very well give birth before the others return," she gave me a wry smile when I hesitated. "We don't want that now do we?"

I sighed in defeat and allowed her to help me back to the sofa, helping me lower myself onto the seat slowly.

Elain popped up just as I sat with a grunt, "I'll make us some tea!" However, just as she said that, a freshly brewed pot appeared on the table before us—along with three tea cups. She laughed nervously, remembering the magic that existed here, before going to pour us each a cup.

"I know it's hard not to worry, believe me," Viviane said as she sat beside me. "But think of it this way: this issue will finally be resolved."

I sighed in irritation. "That's all anyone has been telling me for days, what I've been telling myself," I snapped back, but immediately regretted it.

For her part, Viviane smiled in understanding-all too familiar with the quick shifts in mood that pregnancy caused.

"I just hate feeling like some kind of damsel in distress," I admitted.

"You are anything but, Feyre," Elain said as she handed me a cup.

She's right, my love

I nearly startled at the sound of Rhys's voice through the bond. Is it over? I asked in return.

His dark chuckle made me shiver. Unfortunately, we haven't started yet. We're on the front lines, waiting for Keir and Kallon to arrive

I gulped and knew this time he could feel my heart racing. I thought you might want to see things firsthand, rather than have me fill you in later

Through the bond, I felt his offering hand, dark talons beckoning me as I took it. His black adamant shields yielded to me, and a second later I was looking through my mate's eyes. From his peripheral vision, I could see Nesta standing immediately to his left while Mor and Amren stood at either side of them—Azriel and Cassian flanking them. Based on all our meetings, I knew the other High Lords, excluding Eris, were lined up just behind them. In spite of the crisp air in the Illyrian mountains, I could feel the sun on my mates' skin, could see it reflecting off his Illyrian leathers. Unlike my galloping heart, Rhys's was steady and calm; even as his sharp eyes picked up movement in the distance.

Slowly, arrogantly, Keir walked with Kallon and the commander of his Darkbringer army on either side of him. His hands were neatly folded behind his back, as they often were whenever we saw him at the Hewn City, his chin lifted proudly. Kallon at least had the sense to look a little intimidated at the sight of the three most powerful Illyrians in history on the opposite side of the battlefield; that intimidation probably coming not only from his lack of experience, but from his unexpected lack of numbers with the Illyrians. As he approached, I could see their soldiers following at a distance, but as the trio got closer, the troops stopped.

I could feel Rhys's muscles tense, wings flaring slightly at the steward's outright arrogance as he approached with a smug grin. I noticed Mor's own muscles go rigid, Amren and Nesta remained the picture of menacing ease, their cool facade's masking any rage they might've been feeling. Finally, with only a few dozen paces between them, Keir stopped in his tracks—meeting my mate face-to-face.

"Rhysand," the older male said by way of greeting.

I heard Mor growl from beside Rhys. "My lord," she corrected.

Keir didn't acknowledge her, his dark gaze penetrating as they stayed on mine—on Rhysand's.

"You forget yourself, Keir," he replied coolly, ever the embodiment of casual grace, even in the face of such blatant disrespect and deceit. "Since when do you address your High Lord by first name, and so casually too?"

The male seemed to ignore Rhys's words altogether, simply casting a glance over my mate's shoulder at the other High Lords aligned behind him—their forces also staged at an interval behind them.

"I see you've rallied this bunch. How you all actually managed to become friends after Hybern is truly a surprise to me," Keir scoffed, his disdain echoing for the word 'friends' in particular.

"Especially with that one," he motioned to Tamlin standing beside Tarquin at the far-right of the line.

I could feel Rhys's patience wavering, his dark powers seeping into his shadows and making them stir lightly. I ran my delicate fingertips along his shields to calm him, sending him another reminder: You are Night Triumphant. He is nothing.

"You openly plot against me, my mate, my crown, by rallying your army and joining with rebellious Illyrians in order to...what? Overthrow me? Kill me and take my throne as your own?" Rhys asked, his rage still in check for now.

"I've only come to take back what has rightfully belonged to my bloodline for centuries, before that ancestor of yours came along and claimed the seat of the High Lord for himself," Keir replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "It was one thing for your father to rule as High Lord, but to allow a half-breed disgrace to sully the throne? I have been complacent for far too long, especially now with that mate of yours carrying an abomination of such obscure proportions."

I felt Rhys hold back a growl, every ounce in his body wanting to retaliate for the threat against his mate, against me and our unborn child. Instead, he appeared outwardly unfazed. "You mean to demean my position by pointing out that I am half Illyrian, and yet here you are, allied with them," he said casually, his mask remaining the picture of ease.

"The Illyrians don't want a half-breed High Lord anymore than Keir and his lot do," Kallon spoke up. His voice was strong, but young, attesting to the inexperienced warrior that he was.

"You can come back once you've been around and bled for a few centuries, boy," Cassian retorted, all seven siphons flickering. "In the meantime, you're too wet behind the ears to speak on behalf of the Illyrians."

Keir shot Kallon a warning glance that silenced him. Turning back to Rhys, Keir straightened his shoulders, but before he could answer with some clever reply, Rhys cut him off with a laugh. A dark, whole-bodied guffaw that I had never heard come from him before. It was unscrupulous and dripped with condescension. I didn't have to see the rest of our party to feel the mood shift.

"Am I meant to be intimidated? You have your army of Darkbringers, who are assuredly substantial in numbers and skill, but yet ally yourself with the self-appointed leader of mutinous Illyrians, while said leader has only lived a couple of decades and has never seen the true course of battle," Rhys shook his head with another dark chuckle. "Perhaps the centuries haven't fared so well for you after all, it seems old age has made you lose all sense of reality"

The older male narrowed his gaze, darkened eyes igniting with contempt. "You think me a fool, Rhysand? That I wouldn't find a suitable ally outside these winged brutes?" Kallon's stare was seditious, but Keir ignored him and finally met Mor's gaze. "Perhaps, daughter, you would be glad to see another familiar face?"

Mor only raised an unamused brow at him, the sound of approaching footsteps coming from behind the group. Through my mate's eyes I saw Keir's widen as Eris stepped in line beside Tamlin; with the other High Lord's of Prythian he scoffed at only minutes before.

"Sorry about my pretty lies, Keir, but it was just too easy tricking another old male out of his sense of entitlement," Eris remarked, and though I couldn't see him, I could hear the hubris in his voice as he addressed the steward.

The male fumed at Eris's words, refusing to meet Rhysand's gaze as my mate took a step forward. "Surrender now, Keir. It's time to wake up and realize just how futile your efforts have been," Rhys said, the commanding voice of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian returning.

Of course, Keir continued to seethe as he returned a detestable look at Mor before finally facing Rhys again. He took a couple of steps forward, nostrils flaring as he spat, "You think I will yield so easily? I will correct the mistake I made centuries ago with you and murder that monstrosity your mate will bear in its cradle."

As soon as that last word came out of his mouth, everything seemed to move slowly. Blinding, white-hot rage exploded within my mate, but before he could even react, it was Mor that winnowed from his side in a split second to her father. She winnowed in behind him, an Illyrian dagger in hand, and stabbed him straight through the throat—blood splattering on her face as Keir's eyes widened again. He seemed to try and speak before Mor twisted the blade, pushing it further into his flesh. A wet, strangled sound came out of Keir's mouth as it filled with blood, Mor then kicked the back of his legs and sent him to his knees. I saw her mutter something into his ear, but couldn't hear the exact words before his body dropped to the ground in front of her.

As blood pooled from his throat, Mor stood over his body and didn't look up when Kallon shot to the skies, yelling orders to their Illyrian forces; the Darkbringer commander turning and shouting similar orders before drawing a blade aimed at Mor, who in her adrenaline-filled rage quickly pulled out her own and stabbed him through the gut. The last thing I heard was Cassian's own shouts before Rhys pushed me from his mind, sending me back to the Cabin without warning.

I gasped as though I had been holding my breath throughout the entire ordeal, grasping at my chest and stomach simultaneously as I heaved for breaths. Viviane and Elain were already at my side, but I couldn't make out anything they were saying to me as my mind raced from what I had just witnessed. Of the blood that seeped into the grass, of the gurgling sounds Keir made as he lay dying, the sounds of blades being drawn, and orders being yelled. I squeezed my eyes shut as the images kept flashing through my vision, breathing becoming nearly unattainable as I tried to desperately fight them away; reprising memories of my mate lying dead on the ground after the last war beginning to flash along with the others.

No no no no no no no

I couldn't lose him; I couldn't lose any of them.

Rhysand.Rhysand.Rhysand!

Suddenly, I felt a gentle glimmer at my core, followed by the movement of my son stretching inside of me. That glimmer seemed to warm me from the inside out as my panic slowly ebbed away, Viviane and Elain's voices finally coming through.

"Feyre? Can you hear me?" It was Viviane, and I realized then that her hands held my shoulders gently.

I opened my eyes gradually and met with her piercing and concerned blue eyes. My breaths finally regulated as she guided me back into a normal breathing cycle, knowing that I could at last hear her words. I realized then that I was clutching my belly and looked down at it as I felt my son move again. I loosed another slow breath and caressed it instead, closing my eyes as tears slipped down my cheeks.

"Oh Feyre," Elain whispered as she sat beside me, wrapping her arms around me carefully.

I leaned into her embrace, silently crying as I began to relax—this abating moment contrasting with the one I had with Rhys. Viviane rubbed my shoulder gently, and they both waited patiently for me to calm.

"I was there," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I saw what happened, through Rhysand's eyes."

Viviane frowned, "Are they all right?" She asked.

I paused. "I saw Keir die. Mor stabbed him in the throat, and then they were all shouting. Just as the fighting was about to begin, he sent me back." I said, meeting her worried gaze apologetically.

I felt Elain go rigid as I explained how Keir had been killed, no doubt recalling the gruesome details of how she had done the same with the King of Hybern. I pulled back from her arms slowly, sitting upright with a weary sigh before I went into a full detailed account of everything I had seen—that had been said and done. By the end of it, Viviane's concern seemed to marginalize.

"They'll be all right," she said. "Keir and Kallon were vastly outnumbered, so the fighting won't last for much longer. They'll have no choice but to surrender."

I nodded, though a kernel of doubt still lingered. I looked down at my stomach again, rubbing the expanse of it as my son continued to stretch and kick at his leisure. The glimmering reminder that was him had brought me back to reality, from the edge of my panic. I closed my eyes as I felt him move, feeling another flutter in response as I continued to stroke my belly.

Thank you, baby.

XXX

Hours passed and there was still no word from the others. I tried reaching down the bond on a few occasions, only to be met with my mate's impenetrable black adamant. As time went on, Eira was a welcome distraction. She awoke from her nap in good spirits, cooing and smiling at Viviane and Elain as they fussed over her. I watched from my seat with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes as I idly brushed my fingers along my stomach, thoughts still on my mate and the others as I wondered what held them for so long.

There was no doubt our numbers outweighed theirs; so, while we had hoped fighting wouldn't ensue, now that it had, it should've been settled quickly—a slaughter. I did my best to focus on Eira, picturing what my own future with Sebastian would be in a few short months, but every few minutes or so my thoughts returned to Rhysand and the others. I thought of Mor and how aptly she took out her father and his commander, what possible ramifications would come from her impulses, though I couldn't blame her for it. I wondered if Nesta and Amren had been able to keep a safe distance once the fighting began; if Azriel or Cassian would be hurt while taking down their own kind, though I knew the latter would feel more of a burden than the former.

Finally, a knock came at the door before it opened, Rhys striding inside with Azriel and Kallias following closely behind.

"Oh, thank the Cauldron!" Viviane exclaimed, gathering Eira to her breast as she quickly stood.

Kallias had his daughter and mate wrapped in his arms only seconds later, but I was too distracted with my own overwhelming relief as I saw my mate. I choked on a sob as those star-flecked violet eyes met mine, and as I struggled to push myself upright, Rhysand quickly pulled me into an embrace as he dropped to his knees before me. I slid forward, meeting his knees with mine as I landed on the ground, kissing his face and brushing back the loose strands of his hair as he did the same.

Tell me you're alright. I pleaded

I am, Feyre. Everything's alright

Though the three of them were dirty and bloodied, their faces showing the exhaustion of battle, they were here in one piece. They were alive and safe.

Rhysand's hands held my stomach gently as our brows touched, his eyes lined with silver as he stroked it gently, solace washing over him as well.

Is he...?

He's fine, we both are.

His shoulders went slack as one hand held my hip firmly. "The others…?" I asked aloud, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Fine," he said as he pressed a kiss to my brow and pulled away from me.

He helped me back onto the sofa as we faced the others. Kallias had an arm slid behind Viviane's back, and from the corner of my eye I saw Elain quickly pull her hands away from Azriel's when Rhys rose to his feet. There were still tears welled in her eyes, and I saw the shadowsinger curl his scarred fists closed once Elain's delicate ones left his touch.

"The bastards managed to hold their own for a while, but with hardly any leadership in the wake of Keir's death, we had them overrun after an hour or so," Rhys explained to us.

"Kallon's novice knowledge as a warrior showed. He stood no chance against Cassian's direction and tactics," Azriel added.

"Is he dead too?" I asked.

"Not yet. Cassian got a hold of him and knocked him unconscious. Probably would've killed him, if Rhysand hadn't insisted they take him prisoner," Kallias answered.

A quick nod at Azriel, "We have plans for him and the other camp lords that went against us." Rhys said.

"But Keir is dead? Mor killed him?" Viviane asked.

"Yes, him and about a dozen other Darkbringers. Outside of that, there weren't many casualties," Kallias replied.

"We spent the rest of the time rounding up the rest of their army as they surrendered, stationing prisoner camps that Cassian, Azriel and Devlon will oversee as we plan our next steps," Rhys went on. "As for the Darkbringers, Mor and Amren are taking them back to the Hewn City."

I gulped as I recalled Mor's rage and thought of how she would handle the army of traitors her father raised. I sighed shakily and motioned for Rhys as my relief was replaced by a wave of nausea. Taking note of my illness, he helped me to my feet without another word and I quickly crossed over to the nearest bathing room—making it to the toilet just in time as I vomited. I could barely hear the sound of the voices talking in the other room over the sound of my retching, but only a minute later Rhys entered the bathing room with me, holding my hair and rubbing my back until the nausea passed.

Resting my back against the hard planes of his chest, I closed my eyes as he flushed away the mess and summoned a cool washcloth to place on my forehead. He then lifted me in his arms easily, carrying me down the hallway and towards the small bedroom.

"They left?" I asked after I noticed how quiet it was.

Rhys nodded as he sat me on the bed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Feel better?" he asked.

I sighed heavily with a slight nod, removing the damp cloth from my head. "Yes...I think everything just hit me," I said tiredly, truly feeling the weight of it all lifting.

Is Mor okay?

"She's been waiting for that moment for centuries. Today she finally had enough," Rhys replied aloud—exhaustion as clear in his voice as it was in his eyes.

I nodded in acknowledgment and squeezed his hand, taking note of the blood that still coated his fingers. "It's over…" I whispered.

Rhys squeezed my hand back, the bed giving way as he sat beside me. "Yes, it is."

"There's still so much to do," I said, mind beginning to race.

"There is," he confirmed, a strong hand returning to the apex of my belly. "But we still have time before he comes."

My eyes stung as my sense of relief returned and I let out a wet laugh as he stroked my stomach. "He'll be safe," I said with a quiet sob.

His eyes stayed on my stomach, those beautiful eyes going distant. "He would have never been in danger if I wasn't the male that I am. If you hadn't accepted our bond, or married me, then-"

"I wouldn't be here right now if you weren't the male you are, Rhysand. He wouldn't exist without you, and I...I wouldn't either," I interrupted as I took his face in my hands again, forcing him to meet my fierce gaze.

Those violet eyes shattered at my words and a second later his arms were wrapped around me once again, pulling me onto his lap as I enveloped my arms around him in return and held him just as closely. I shook with a sob as I buried my face in his hair as his lips brushed against my neck and breathed in my scent. With this burden lifted from both of our shoulders, we no longer had to pretend to enjoy whatever short-lived peace we had been afforded during this ordeal. We now had a peace that had the potential to last for a great deal longer; a peace that our son would be born into and thrive.

38 notes · View notes

reefartandwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Running out of Time Pt 1

When Luz had announced that she only had two weeks left until she had to return home, Amity felt her world shatter. She heard Luz assuring everyone she wouldn't be gone forever, she'd visit, and come back next summer… but Amity didn't pay much attention.

Luz was leaving.

That single thought was tearing her apart. This past few months had changed her. Luz had changed her. But despite that her fear of losing Luz was becoming a partial reality. And she hadn't even said anything about her feelings. Luz was just as clueless and dense as she had been during Grom, and their match of grudgby against boscha.

She wandered away from the group gathered. More than she had even expected. So many lives that Luz had affected, for the better. All smiling and wishing her the best and for a safe return when she could.

"It was stupid anyway…" she muttered, blushing at the whole situation. "Luz isn't going to like you back, and all it does is hurt."

All the memories of that insufferable dork came rushing through her mind. The library, their book club meetings, grudgby, Grom, and beyond. How close Luz seemed to get without even realizing. The effect it had on her.

Amity couldn't take it. She couldn't take two weeks of pretending to be okay with Luz leaving.

So she didn't.

For the next week at school, Amity avoided Luz at all costs. It minimized her panicked lovestruck thoughts, and any danger the human girl would get her into. It hurt, but by not looking at the disappointment she could imagine on Luz's face, she managed. It felt helpful. It created a distance. Distance was good. The pain wouldn't be as bad.

Or atleast, is what Amity told herself.

It was another half week, just about three days before Luz had said she was leaving, when Amity broke.

The final school bell rang, and she gathered her books and made her way outside, ready for the walk home, when a familiar voice came from behind her, as well as audible footsteps.

"Amity!" It sounded mixed between happy and searching, like Luz had been looking forward to seeing Amity but for a specific reason.

She almost stopped, swallowing thickly her nerves, but kept walking, the footsteps stopping. But they began again, and suddenly the face she had ignored was in front of her, and she was forced to stop in her tracks. She wanted to run away, but she was frozen.

Luz looked so sad, her brown eyes searching Amity's guarded face for emotion. "You've… been avoiding me."

Amity tightened the grip on her books and looked down, hoping that was it, Luz would let her go in peace, and not trouble her again. And once Luz left she could try to forget…

"Did I do something?" Luz asked quietly, making Amity look up to meet her face again. She looked genuinely worried. She had purposefully kept close to a whisper, and reached for Amity's hand to grip it between both of hers. "Look, I know I mess up, and I'm oblivious and stupid. So if I did something to upset you, I want to make it right." She looked up with a smile. "And I know I can't just fix everything, but I want to try. I don't want to leave the Boiling Isles on bad terms with you…" her smile faded, and she squeezed Amity's hand.

"I- have to go-" The girl squeaked, blushing and trying to form the will to pull her hand away. But it remained, and she started shaking with nerves.

"I'm sorry, for whatever it was… I affect people when i'm not even aware of sometimes. Please Amity, You're one of my best friends, I want to make it right." She squeezed again. "Talk to me."

Amity's facade crumbled, and she let out a defeated sigh. This wasn't how to deal with emotions. And looking into Luz's sweet, stupid face… she couldn't let her go. Not like this.

And she couldn't let her go without being honest.

She squeezed her hand back, and spoke quickly and quietly. "Meet me at sunset. At the cliff close to the Owl House. I… need to talk to you. I've been putting it off. I've been afraid."

Luz released Amity's hand, smiling. "I'll be there. But you're okay? You're more important than me feeling good when I leave. You mean more than that to me."

Amity turned away, drawing a sharp inhale. "I think I will be… after we talk. But I really have to go- my parents will be upset if I don't get home for my study time. I'll see you at sunset, Luz…" she slid past the girl, a blush overtaking her face. She covered it halfway with the hand Luz had held so gently, conveying such a soft message while she spoke. How had she managed to ignore her for so long? Why had she thought it was how to handle things?

The hurt expression alone on the humans face nearly destroyed her. But that smile… that cursed smile… built her up all over again. Her heart was beating fast, and an unconscious smile took her over as she speed walked home.

Her study time at least soothed her, but she was fairly distracted, trying to find the perfect way to confess. She was determined to tell her now, even if it hurt. Luz was too sweet to not let her down easy, at least. The convincing and thinking took up almost two hours, and before she knew it she had to get ready to leave. She grabbed nothing but a piece of paper and a pencil, Incase words failed her.

It was such a quiet walk, that nerves set in. All the stores were packing up for the night, people were on their way home, and she was on her way to do one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

All the magic, death defying, pressure to be better… it didn't hold a candle to this. Her stomach squirmed in nervous anticipation as she drew closer to her destination. She just focused on breathing, the sound her feet as she moved, looking forward and not letting herself overthink.

But she came around the corner and paused, her heart beating again when she saw Luz sitting and looking upwards at the stars, seemingly tracing them with her finger and facing away. Amity could only imagine the small smile plastered to her face. Absent-mindedly adorable.

She closed her eyes and took a breath, approaching slowly and carefully sitting next to her, the paper in her hand laid gently at her side. "Hey, Luz."

"It's crazy how clear the stars are here in the Boiling Isles." The human murmured, turning only slightly to show a smile. "it really shows how it's a whole different world from mine. And I get to experience it."

Amity huffed, a hand tugging on her own tunic nervously. "Yeah, and all the near death experiences."

"Well- you got me there. But that's what gives this place charm." She smiled wider, turning fully, meeting Amity's golden eyes. "Just like all the people I've met."

"I think you're the one with the most charm." Amity answered, taking a breath. "And that's why I was avoiding you." She looked up with a guilty face.

"Because I'm charming?" Luz asked, confused. "Is it a bad thing?"

"No! Not at all! I just- you're so likable. And after you said you were leaving… I didn't know how to handle it." She shrunk into herself a bit. "Luz, I've had a hard time being super honest with you… you came crashing into my life and I was so confused on why you acted the way you did. You were so determined to be my friend even when I was awful to you because you made a few mistakes. You're so happy and hopeful and stubborn…" she covered her face with both her hands. "...You were my first real friend in a long time. And you've wanted to do nothing but help me and Willow and Gus, and because of that Im actually happy."

Luz put a hand on her forearm, giving a soft caring look that Amity couldn't see. "And you want me to stay." She smiled a bit. "Amity, I know how scary it is. And I'm gonna miss you so much! But I can't stay… I have to go home. To my Mom. I was only supposed to be gone for the summer."

#amity blight #gay #my fic #my writing #lumity #not really spoilers #but dont read if you havent watched #luz noceda #gaybies #part 1 #part 2 will be posted soon

113 notes · View notes

mammonsimpwashere · 4 years ago

Text

Dekus panick attack and how bakugou got him out of it!

Hiya it’s me M again! And I’m back with a story on bakugo and deku today cuz why not . I hope you like it ✨

DEKU! The whole class scream as his eyes widen in response.

‘Fuck, fuck. No you shitty nerd please.. don’t.’ Bakugo mumbles under his breath seemingly holding back tears. It fucking broke him to see midoriya looking so petrified and vulnerable.

Todoroki stepped closer to midoriya, hand in front of him with the palm was facing towards the curled up figure on the floor. It was a natural reaction just like when someone falls you inch closer trying to help them with your hand in that very same position.

‘GET AWAY FROM ME’ deku screeched, gritting his teeth to stare todoroki in the eyes. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he held them up to his ears in an attempt to block out any and all noice.

‘FUCKING GET BACK DAMMIT’ Bakugo screamed at the class, his voice strained from the knot he felt in his throat. Everyone knew he was being serious. If there was anyone in this room who had a chance of calming down midoriya right now. It was him. Only he could do it.

‘Deku, please. Come on,, Deep breaths’ he instructed making his voice calmer than anyone in the class has ever heard it. It wasn’t sweet nor smooth sounding and It was still raspy. However you could tell how much he cared for midoriya in the tone of it. And how worried he was.

Midoriya looked up again for a split second only to see bakugou looking directly at him. Worried.

The image of his face brought back all of the memories of the past, he started replaying flashbacks of him getting bullied by bakugou in the back of his mind. And the words ‘swan dive of the top of the roof’ engulf the last of his ok mentality.

In what what a quiet room, Izuku heard a thousand words. With the sheer volume It seemed as if he was at a party. His mind had became so loud that it was hard to not listen too. It was becoming impossible to ignore.

Bakugou took notice and was becoming increasingly more distraught the longer it went on , he knew how midoriya’s mind worked. He needed to calm him down. And fast.

Taking his chances he ran as fast as he could at izuku who was curled up, back against the with his hands still clung to his ears. He was petrified. He was so scared at the sight of bakugo that he froze, completely. He couldn’t move. Not even an inch. He felt so hopeless.

everyone in the not lit classroom shared the same shocked look on their face as bakugou embraced midoriya. He had immediately pulled him into a hug and perched his head on midoriyas shoulder. He was leaning on his right knee which was accompanied by his left foot on the floor.

He took one deep breath in and started to hum. His voice was so calming. Bakugo often used to sing to midoriya when they were younger. When they used to be bestfriends. He ever sung in front of anyone but him. And this had reminded him of that. He was humming the exact song that they made when they were younger. Singing in front of people made bakugou feel insecure and izuku knew that. Yet he trusted midoriya enough to sing and him in front of him despite that.

That’s why it clicked him out of his mental distraught. With tears still in his eyes he moved up his hands from his ears and wrapped them around bakugou shoulders. Wailing.

The whole class stared in shock not understanding the moment those two just had.

Bakugo had needed that hug. he had a tight grip and it was reassuring him.

‘I’m sorry deku’ his voice Indistinctively cracked but for once he didn’t care, he didn’t care about what his classmates thought or what anyone thought about him in that moment minus midoriya. He just wanted him to feel ok.

He couldn’t bring himself to untighten his grip on deku, and deku knew. He realised that this was kacchan trying his hardest to show his emotions. He had alwyas struggled with it, yet he was trying so desperately to convey his feelings.

As if midoriya were a mother, he placed his hand on the back of bakugou hair almost naturally, stroking it. On his shoulder he felt his face tighten. And he felt his arm get wet.

Bakugou was crying.

Did deku really mean that much to him. He sat there astounded and at a loss for words.

‘Fuck off extras...’. Bakugo says voice more

Full of emotion than usual. The class immediately knew that Bakugo needed space. They’ve never seen him like that. Vulnerable wasn’t a look that suited katsuki. Not in the slightest.

‘Listen here you damn nerd.. I fucking now what I said to you all those years ago... but I didn’t fucking mean it. Please. Don’t do anything like that. Fucking promise me you won’t you fucking dumbass’ he cried out.His voice betraying him, breaking and changing pitch every two seconds as more tears fall out.

He pulled himself up only to reveal his eyes to be bloodshot with a significant amount of eye contact. Bakugou’s signature furrowed blonde brows had changed form completely. Just as katsuki face did, they had also dropped. They just looked so... sad.

Midoriya sitting there shell shocked, didn’t say anything. Because of this bakugo brought his hands up to his freckled cheeks and pulled him closer to his face.

‘P..please’ he said. So fucking gently and cautiously not to make midoriya feel scared. ‘Promise me’ he gives a somewhat desperate look to midoriya.

‘I...I promise’ deku stumbled. Feeling a knot in his own throat now. He was so shocked that he wasn’t crying. He was just sat there. Wide eyes.

‘Thank fuck you damn nerd’ he managed to put a smile on his damp face. Fake or not it reassured midoriya that everything was ok.

Before getting up he wrapped his arms around midoriya once more and squeezed him in a comforting way. A way which felt like he was saying.

Im here for you. And I’ll always be here.

Bakugo gets up and reaches his hand out to deku whom took it and stumbled up from the force of which his hand dragged him.

‘Let’s go’ deku smiled. They both head out the door and no one will ever speak about what they saw in the classroom ever again.

#bakugou katsuki #izuku mydoria #kacchan #deku #mha deku #mha imagines #my hero academia #bnha bakugou #bnha deku #bnha bakugo katsuki #anime

23 notes · View notes

axel-mania · 4 years ago

Text

yesterday was the first time i met someone with ehlers-danlos. i was seeing her because she is a physical therapist with the disease i may have, and i hoped she could tell me whether my current pt is killing me with his treatment. and, you know, what she had done to be a working adult rather than someone frequently bedridden. it was a tiny office. i felt small, trapped, staring down at the intake paperwork, over a hundred questions and longer than any ive done before. i was so scared i wouldnt be able to get through that part and still have the scheduled meeting. but i guess she cared about seeing me, because even though other patients were asking for her help she still took the time to talk to me.

so you write down all your pain, put down numbers that dont really convey anything about it, just trying to say that youre suffering and it should matter enough that something is done about it. i feel like im lying if i use all tens, but that means they might not take me seriously. on the flip side, im still walking and talking, no matter how feebly, so they might think im exaggerating it. my first adults' doctor told me id just have to learn to live with all this. but maybe this person understands. maybe shell care.

youre just a six on the hypermobility scale. its eight to tens when we start to see the really bad conditions like ehlers-danlos. thats what the rheumatologist i was referred to said. but this physical therapist wasnt very flexible and shed been diagnosed. so she ended up completely redoing my evaluation. when i could bring myself to string more than a few words together to tell her, that is. i always feel stupid during these kinds of things. even if i record my pain, i dont have the right words to describe whats happening. i cant definitively answer all their questions, just give guesses. but she could see inflamed joints, out of place tendons, pops that i couldnt even hear. so i ended up meeting the criteria. it almost means nothing.

i dont have an official diagnosis, which is almost impossible to gain, so i cant get benefits. well, i can at least pursue treatment, right? not really. she shot down the pain management options i had learned from the patient community, and said most people who felt worse in physical therapy were looking for someone to blame. shes the success case, and she presides over many more patients than me. so what could i do but accept it?

theres only hard work. work you literally cant do if youre in enough pain. physically, im lucky. compared to others, my body has only broken down a little, so i can still do regular exercise. at the same time, no matter how hard i try, it will break down more. its a race alongside time. you can only get so much better as your body naturally gets worse. teaching your joints to stay in place doesnt mean making your body into a different one.

youre never going to exist without pain every day. really sit with that for a second. you have to mentally say, im okay with this hard exertion every day, and im okay with it leading to only marginal and very long term benefits. i choose life no matter the consequences.

and i cant choose that, not right now. not when i have questionable friends online and absolutely no one in real life. not when im living with my transphobic parents and am going to struggle to find any employment that can accommodate my disability. theres just really no reason. the one person who was dependent on me no longer is. i dont believe in life as an abstract good. so really, this seems to be a sign to kill myself.

whats going to happen isnt me dramatically and immediately hanging myself while my parents are asleep. its going to be a slow starvation. i repeatedly refuse to choose between life and death, fail to consistently do the exercise, and suffer more until its too much. this isnt exactly a cry for anyone to try talking me down. ive long since decided not to do that for others anymore, and i dont want it for me either. but it is sort of an open question... why are some people so happy to choose a miserable life? what do they have that i dont? maybe its a circular problem. im bitter because people arent caring for me enough, and people dont want to care for me because im bitter.

#im typing this because i want to be seen #and i dont feel seen by anyone #but probably this is too difficult to respond to so i wont get any response #lol

16 notes · View notes

incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 5 years ago

Text

@theeyethatbinds Girl SING IT. SING IT LOUDER FOR THE GIRLS IN THE BACK, SWEAR TO GOD.

Like I’m gonna be real wit y’all I was looking forward to le Comte for a while, but I was always side-eyeing Jeanne. He’s a blunt hermit and grump and 100% mood, so I hoped his route would give me more insight into how I feel about him.

Ladies. When I tell you. It was EXCELLENT. I mean there are so many gr9 routes in the game, I don’t want to take away from them, but there was just something about his that hit me so hard???? (MY KOKORO BROKORO)

More under the cut since his route won’t be out for a little while (we still got Isaac, then Theo, then Jeanne), as a little treat. As usual, pls don’t read if you don’t want spoilers, thanks!

Okay so going into this route I was fully expecting the big sads. I mean, if history has taught us anything it was that Joan D’Arc was a badass but good lord, that doesn’t mean the people of her time were kind to her. (I need to do more thorough research on her, so if I’m getting any of her pronouns wrong or neglect something, I do apologize.)

That being sad, I was like aight DECK MY SHIT WITH TRAGEDY, JEANNE. And at the beginning it’s p fascinating. He’s very ornery and resistant to any kind of consideration or attempts at friendship MC extends. But eventually, after a good deal of persistence, he relents little by little.

I’d also like to level with y’all for a sec. Being someone who knows a great deal in regards to the kinds of mental and emotional shit Jeanne struggles through, I think they handled that part of the route so, so well. Granted, I’m not the kind of person to launch a crusade over different writing styles--but for me it just feels all the more poignant when it makes sense; when certain dispositions or trauma are conveyed with that depth. To me, it made 100% sense that Jeanne would be so against accepting other people into his life immediately.

He and Mozart vibe because they’re so similar, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s comfortable letting just anyone in--much less a complete stranger. I think it’s more that Mozart and Jeanne share a kind of indelible bond/mutual recognition through their talent, actually. They were both prodigies, absolute geniuses in their fields (military vs. music) but their social skills were shot to hell for the very same reason. To be brilliant--beyond one’s potential posthumous legacy--tends to mean being hated. Plus, they’re both principled to absolute extremes. When they’ve decided on something, they will not waver. They’re stubborn and austere, but behind those walls lies a molten core of sensitivity.

This is important to understanding him, I think, before I move forward.

While one could argue that their reaction is a result of that deficiency of emotional and social support (which I entirely concede does contribute to the matter at hand, it shouldn’t be overlooked) I think the real crux of the matter here is control. Think about it. Among the oldest residents in the mansion (let’s say that were born more than 100 years within the range of the present period of the game) are Mozart, Jeanne, Isaac, and Shakespeare. What do they all have in common?

Extremity. For Mozart, it comes in the form of a kind of OCD, as perfectionism. For Jeanne, it is generalized anxiety and PTSD. For Isaac, it is primarily social anxiety--but it’s still noticeably severe. And Shakespeare runs around with a knife, insecurity through the roof, literally unable to trust anything or anyone (psychosis? schizoaffective? I’m really not sure, these are all ballpark assessments based on the evidence I have). In order to adjust to their new surroundings, there was a cost--and in some ways their coping mechanisms become noticeably maladaptive. They were born into eras that were mercilessly unpredictable, and the only way they knew how to cope was to was to either take the blame--make it a personal failing that tragedy struck--or try to immerse themselves into their craft. They all seek to regain some kind of control (this is even visible in Vincent, to a degree--painting was an escape from his emotionally turbulent world).

Granted that’s not to say that the others don’t struggle with such issues at all, I just feel like the characters from more unstable time periods tend (as a general trend) to mirror that instability within their personalities.

All that being said, (I apologize I am a tangent-monger and love meta), Jeanne’s self-imposed isolation is only partially caused by the above dynamic. Yes, he is unwilling to let people into his heart for fear of betrayal. (It’s almost like an entire nation clamoring to watch you burn for something you didn’t do after spending your entire life and talents trying to protect them would do that to you, but I digress >:| ). But there’s another devastating and potentially less obvious reason for keeping people out.

He thinks he deserves it.

Loneliness, melancholy, aimlessness. These are all the punishments that he incurred on himself after a life of what he conceives to be considerable sin (hahaha battlefield enemies go ripppp). Whether or not he was operating purely out of a sense of duty, even if he felt sympathy for his enemy combatants, it’s not enough. And the condemnation of his king, of his entire nation, only served to magnify that self-loathing to a dangerous degree. (Don’t get me started on his parents I’m still so angry >:| they more or less disowned him since he was constitutionally weak as a young boy, and thus could not serve as an adequate farmhand. Don’t work? Don’t eat/live).

It’s hard enough living in a reserved way because you’re afraid of getting hurt, but to think that you deserve it when hurt finds you, no less? And my favorite part, that he’s so profoundly sure that it is an extension of a personal, fundamental failing? That for a person to survive, they must be strong, that there can be no other way--that there is no time or space for ruminations on fairness or unfairness, there are only those who manage to survive and those who die.

Now my friends, esteemed comrades, legendary sluts. Is that enough for us, Cybird asks, are we feeling enough pain quite yet? Fuck no.

Most of his route after we get over the hurdle of his hesitation is just him. Being. Bashful and gentle as all FUCK. Like he is the definition of “I'll kill you, but also I’m babie.” For instance, she insists on teaching him how to read and write at night when she finds him trying (and not succeeding) to read “The Ugly Duckling”. Yes I mean the children’s book. I CRIED THE FIRST TIME AND I’M CRYING NOW. So, naturally, MC buys him a notebook to practice with and he puts his name in big letters on the front. When MC sees this, she asks him about it--wondering why he would given he’s so self-conscious of his own writing (boy writes all squiggly like a little kid because he’s never done it before ;-;).

The scene goes a little something like this:

MC: Wh....whatcha go there Jeanne? Jeanne: ? My notebook? MC: I...mean that you wrote your name on it? Jeanne: Yeah? MC: Why? Jeanne: ._. It was a gift from you, and I figured it'd be hard to practice if I lost it...so I put my name on it... (HE WAS SECRETLY TOUCHED I BET AND IM--) MC: Why such big letters? Jeanne: So people can spot it quickly, obviously MC, inches from crying and laughing: Jeanne: Mademoiselle??? Why are you laughing? MC: Because you’re cute, Jeanne!

Like. They start out so rocky and Jeanne is so SIGH. I guess I’ll agree if it’ll get her to stop looking so sad and ask me to join her for stuff. But then he just can’t help but go full softe at how patient and kind she is, starts feeling comfortable just...being who he is deep down. A man that’s always hoped for better in life, a person that only ever takes up his sword to protect--that has an incredibly pure and clear heart, despite so much pain.

And good lord, they are GOD TIER romantic slow burn???? Swear to everything holy, I was BEGGING for them to make out by like chapter 10, I was just suffering for most of the route until the bangarang premium. Here’s probably my favorite moment in the entire route:

Basically Sebastian and Mozart pull out all the stops trying to bring Jeanne and MC together (once they see Jeanne show some interested in her). And so Jeanne asks her to join him in the courtyard the next morning, and they’re playing with Cherie (Jeanne’s pet baby white tiger). Besides being ungodly adorable--because Jeanne invited her for the sole purpose of hoping to see her delightfully surprised--Mozart begins to play a love song nearby. They don’t name the tune, but Jeanne canonically starts singing along (I wholeass cried, I WANT TO HEAR HIM SING????). And so she asks what the song is about, and he explains that Mozart once played it for him, but he couldn’t make out the words at first. Mozart explained that it was a love song that speaks to the difficulties of being in love (the worry, the strife) but also the beauty of the intensity and passion. He goes on to say that even when he learned the words, it never made much sense to him back then--it never resonated.

He’s singing softly with a fond look, and so she asks, does he understand it now? And he looks her dead in the eye, and says “...I think I’m starting to.” Like. AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT LOSE MY MIND AT THE TENDERNESS????? WHAT A SMOOTH MOFO????? MAN RAISED TO BE A SOLDIER, NO KNOWLEDGE OF ROMANCE OR WOMEN, AND KILLS ME IN MILLISECONDS?????? I DEMAND JUSTICE. (Or it’s just me thinking sincerity is the best aphrodisiac, but that’s beside the point.)

This has been your quarantine 2d boy meta and yelling, provided by your local mod Minnie. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to get to the things I’ve been procrastinating on while reliving/dissociating about one of my favorite rts in the entire game. Stay safe and well out there y’all, peace out!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp mozart #yall like #this reply just launched me right back into my jeanne feels #i dont have words for how much i love him #he's just such a good dude????? such a good dude #he really is trying his best pls give him love for me if you can #i binged his route almost as hard as sg's bc it was just t h a t sweet and compelling #i also cried like a baby #he deserves better and he deserves love #i will protect him forever #does that mean that in every single route i am acutely aware of the fact that I can't help him?#:))))))))))))))))))))))))))) life is pain. life is a party and jeanne and i are the pinatas.#and no i dont wanna talk abt it there will be no more questions LDKJH #just kidding around if anyone has any questions yall are free to send em! I'll answer to the best of my ability~#anyhoot ty @theeyethatbinds for bringing all those good feels back #you are a legend and you have wonderful taste we stan **cheers**

123 notes · View notes

rosenmarille · 4 years ago

Note

First of all: that One Day bit is quality content. Second of all I read "3.5 for Holly" and am Highly Interested

HI yes! i will explain, however i first have to correct myself. its actually a part 2.5, not 3.5. like i mentioned in the other post, the part is called “heart unbound”, this is about 25 years after battle tendency, when holly is in her early 20s!!

the rest of this im gonna put under the cut

so the setting. joseph (43), suzie, and holly (21) live in new york, smokey is in georgia, lisa lisa (75) is Somewhere in the states, erina and speedwagon have passed away (sad). its 1963! the speedwagon foundation has continued expanding, with joseph and lisa lisa closely involved after speedwagons death. they’ve mostly moved their attention into new territory, but still have all their old research kept. stands aren't a thing yeeet, but its been long enough that the pillarmen have faded into unpleasant memory.

until one night the power at the swf hq goes out for just a moment too long, and santana manages to escape.

joseph and lisa lisa are contacted asap, and they decide to travel down to texas and find him (preferably take him out for good this time). holly, who has grown up hearing about jojo’s wild escapades, really wants to come along. she knows some hamon! she can defend herself! come on!! (yes i said it, holly learned hamon, do you think having lisa lisa for a grandmother would result in anything less?) anyway, joseph and lisa lisa Really don't want her to come since it could be really dangerous and they'd rather not put her in harm’s way.

so holly (rich, unsupervised) books a plane and goes after them.

we skip to texas!! joseph and lisa lisa investigate at hq and the surrounding area and find practically no trace of santana or where he might have gone. when holly arrives, she decides that since she can't look into hq without getting caught, she’ll ask around with locals, and manages to hear rumours about a new sort of cryptid (only appears at night, weird anatomy etc), both cattle and people have been disappearing, but on a very small scale. she looks into similar stories and realizes that santana must be moving south, though what he's planning, she doesn't know. but she will follow!! (and leave breadcrumbs for her family to pick up on this pattern too, she guesses. not so helpless now, huh?)

so this goes for a while, taking her down into mexico, until she is pretty sure that she can triangulate the missing people reports accurately enough to actually Find him. holly isnt stupid, she doesnt think she can win in a battle against a pillarman. what she’s hoping to do is prove herself to joseph and lisa lisa by prepping and helping out enough for them to then take care of the problem. she's an adult now and she doesnt appreciate being treated like a child. (you may say this contradicts how she behaved towards joseph in part 3, but to that i counter: she's in her 40s in that one, and her being an adult is established enough that she knows she can act a lil silli without that being put in question)

but hey!! she does find him!! she decides to stalk him for a bit, see what he does. so she happens to be there when santana attacks a young woman (midnight snack), who pulls a KNIFE instead of running away, so Holly rushes in and deflects an attack with a quick hamon swipe. santana has learned from his previous hamon encounter and instead of sticking around, he decides it isn't worth it and absconds instead (smart). (at this point you might notice this is the first fight of the part. yeah it be like that in this one. call it battle untendency)

holly and the woman (who later introduces herself as Maria (no last name yet; but named after Maria Maria by Santana (lol)) also get out of dodge and hide out in an alley, where maria decides that she needs to know what the fuck that Thing was, yesterday. magic?? sparkling?? hello??? and hollys like uhh hah yes so. that's an ancient semi immortal vampire creature? and this is sunlight breathing magic, which he's allergic to. yea. and maria is like ................yeah okay i buy it. teach me sunlight breathing magic, i wanna come.

maria side paragraph! she's our oc and we love her. remember that awful scene from the santana arc with all those prisoners and the one kid who doesn't get sacrificed? that's her older brother. he was “let go” but “let go” basically did just mean “free to wander the desert and find civilisation maybe”, so when he did eventually find his way back home, he'd been severely traumatized, plus on death's door. other prisoners had been turned into vampires to test on the pillarman discovery, so the word “vampire” is something he'd have heard and conveyed to his family, who didn’t. really believe him. he also hasn't really recovered from that experience :( then the war happened and maria's dad served in it, and afterwards decided that his other child needed to know how to defend herself, and maria learned how to handle a knife, as well as how to physically fight. their family managed to avoid post war financial problems for the most part, and maria was able to finish her studies! she's a pilot :) she is, however, harbouring very deep anger and resentment for what happened to her brother, and has not really had a face to direct that anger towards, so it's been on a relatively low burner for the most part, but now there’s talk of vampires and a person she can blame for her family’s trauma.

they exchange notes and she realizes that yeahh, that is pretty much exactly what her brother had told them, so it was true. hah :) yes actually, i would like to learn vampire killing magic please holly. and holly, who didn't really want to bring someone with her, but kind of does believe in accidents not being a thing, decides that yeah, she probably should bring maria along. and sure!! if they have to deal with sanata again, why not teach her hamon!! they share stories and continue to follow the trail while they train together, and become really close friends! jobro time.

we've now reached the first third of the story.

we travel further south!! soon, holly begins to realize......... ohh..... the temple they found santana in.. that's south of here, isn't it? oh huh. what could he want there?? the masks have been destroyed as far as she knows?? she doesn't know enough first hand to know what significance there could be, but the girls prepare for anything. maybe a big weapon the researchers had not been able to identify?? MOre pillarmen, secretly living underneath the temple???

(there are gonna be some scenes that involve lisa lisa and joseph figuring out where they need to go, and maybe also realizing who set that trail, maybe they have smth else going on, who knows)

holly and maria follow santana and eventually do find the temple, and prepare to stake it out, hopefully hopefully not alerting him to their presence, because that would be.........bad. (tho tbh marias kinda itching to try out vampire begone magic. wouldn't You want to if you suddenly learned how?) neither of them have ever been here so they're honestly pretty floored by the temple interior, the tunnel that leads into the main chamber dark and uninviting, with who knows what hidden dangers are lurking about.

and then they see him. santana is investigating the place where the pillar had been cut out of the structure, the stone masks crushed and broken, strewn around the floor, running his hands over the broken stone. Then he walks to one of the murals carved into the wall, a large one, similar to the one speedwagon had been investigating, with the 4 faces representing the pillarmen, and he lingers there. dips his head, then walks back to the empty space of the pillar and sits down where it was, crosslegged, and closes his eyes. and then he stays still. what does That mean??

the girls decide this is enough, they should fall back and formulate a proper plan, maybe wait for joseph and lisa lisa to catch up. buuuut we can't have that be the end of it, and so something happens, maybe one of them trips? steps on rubble that falls loose? they make a noise. and get noticed.

change of plans! fight now! except there isn't an attack? they stay still but “i know you're there.” damn it. battle formation, stances ready, they make their way into the chamber, where santana hasn't moved at all. he's still sitting there, but he's looking at them now. holly asks what he's doing here, he asks the same back. she says not to play dumb, hes been killing people this whole time, he has to answer for that! and to that, santana honestly looks a bit confused because. has he? in his defense, he's not human, his prey is humans. pillarboy has to eat.

marias like “well? aren't you going to attack us?” and he's like “not unless you bother me.” and closes his eyes again. the girls aren't sure what to make of this.

santana side paragraph: first of all, this is a santana stan account. name one (1) thing he's done wrong, canonically. woke up in a strange place. captured?? got his bearings, tried to Leave and was accosted! shot some nazis (go king), and finally only snapped when joseph got mad he didn't laugh at his clownery. anyone would get murderous as a result. tried to escape further, ultimately was stopped and detained Again! morally, he's above joseph.

so they're just standing now. since their earlier encounter where holly used hamon, santana refuses to talk more at first, but holly has the bright idea to get his trust by having maria restrain her and then stand back with her weapon -- a show of putting herself in a helpless position and promise she wont attack. that’s enough for santana to agree to come closer and have a proper conversation.

holly asks again why he's here exactly? what's here? and he tells her that if she Must know, he's waiting. waiting for what, she asks. and maria looks back at the carvings and realizes “oh. there should be 4 of them.” now santana looks mildly uncomfortable, and holly rememebers that “oh fuck, dad killed all of them.” and then “wait they were evil tho??” and then again “wait fuuck, didn't the leader guy say they left this one behind in mexico on purpose? oh man does he Know?” holly finds herself in the position of “not only do i have to tell this guy his friends aren't coming because they're Dead, they also kinda abandoned him.” yikes.

meanwhile maria is kinda pissed that her one chance at revenge might have just been taken from her. she still blames santana for what happened to her brother, and she refuses to let that go. she’s too stubborn and proud for that. and now, especally since holly seems to be focused on creating a bond, it feels like a slap in the face. so she kinda… snaps, ruining their chance at resolving this peacefully and causing santana to run off again. she and holly have a fight. it sucks.

soon after that joseph does find holly and he Does send her home. maria, after explaining her intentions, stays with them. holly is heartbroken :( after shes gone, joseph and lisa lisa make a plan to trap santana, aimed to go off in a few days prep, and during this, maria is starting to realize that that... really isnt the right thing to do... shes now had some time to sit alone with her guilt and regret about how she handled the situation, ssso she gets an idea on how to make up for it...

meanwhile holly is sitting at home and is sad, until suzie drives her somewhere in guise of going to a fancy lunch with smokey (whos in town), but really she drives her to the joestars airpad where her friend marua(!!) is already waiting in front of joseph’s plane, which, turns out, she hijacked in the south and flew all the way up here, and suzie tosses holly a bag with clothes and stuff and tells her to hurry up and get going :3

and hollys all "but what about lunch with mr smokey? :o" and suzie winks at her and says "don't worry, he's waiting for me to tell him everything went well at the restaurant ;)" and then holly gives her a big hug, runs to her friend and hugs Her, and they are off to fly back south to save some lives. on the way, maria apologizes and explains -- how she had harboured this resentment for so long that the sudden target for her blame put in front of her, plus the immediate removal of it were so jarring that she acted impulsively... she knows santana isnt at fault for what happened with her brother... and now she just hopes they make it in time.

as luck would have it, they catch up with joseph and lisa lisa just in time to jump between them and santana (maria accidentally cuts off joseph’s prosthetic hand in the process and freaks the fuck out before realizing it’s fine) and try to talk it out. it’s a tense few minutes, but holly is determined and stubborn, and she manages to get her dad and grandma to see her side of things and santana is saved! they find something for him to eat, giving him the energy to heal his wounds. pillarmen absorbing shit never gets old.

And from there it’s mostly just everything getting settled down and smoothed out. they get back in touch with the swf and tell them the problem is handled. santana turns out to be a relatively peaceful dude when his life isn’t being threatened, and he becomes a good friend with all four of them, but especially holly and maria. they help teach him about the modern world and he decides that he’s going to do some travelling and learn about the history of his culture and other ancient mesoamerican cultures he interacted with in his youth, and he shares the things he learns with the swf so they can get the info about where theyre needed etc. maria gets hooked up with one of the many therapists we decided work at the swf that has experience with the supernatural things she and her brother have gone through. holly, maria, and santana stay in touch and go on regular trips together. holly receives many post cards.

it’s all really good and happy :) thats heart unbound baybee!! <33

#pari talks #heart unbound #jjba #au tag #(<< new tag for all future pari and jace aus jdfdkfjh)#this turned out Very long djfkdjh #ALSO important post credit notes: santana and maria stay involved in the rest of the jojo stories #mostly in the background doing their own things sometimes together sometimes separate #santana develops an actual cryptid status like fukin nessie or smth #‘the pillarman always walks at night. a huge behemoth of a human but Not Quite a body that can change shape at will…. always on foot….’#that last one was his personal choice because he can take his time going places #he walks everywhere and just enjoys how the world has changed #maria becomes an ‘’’adventurer’’’ by profession. she has a plane #she has a big knife #she goes and beats up poachers and is on the frontlines for social movements #jotaro has the coolest aunt

24 notes · View notes

ditch-witches · 5 years ago

Text

Insufferable (i) - George MacKay x reader

(PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4)

requested: yes/no (im so sorry this took so long holy scheisse, there are so many parts too)

Thank you so much to our first Instagram request! @/okay.l0z I had a lot of fun with this and had to channel Ryan and Hannah's angst to help me.

"Hi! I've been reading your fics and I love them so much bc there's hardly any around. I was wondering if you take insta requests and if so can you do one with George and the reader are like enemies to loves and they have really cute moments but then end up fighting all the time and then it escalates and they end up having sEx and then get together or something bc I will THRIVE IF YOU DO!" ... "Is it bad if I want it long ass?"

also I thought about this like,,, a lot,,,

pairing: George MacKay x reader

warnings: slow-burn introduction bAsIcalLy, I think there are swear words?

word count: 2,629

a/n: There are several things to be addressed...

accuracy to George's life is like 0/100 - scratch that, they have the same hair color

think of this as an AU because idk how else to explain it

it's a slow burn. if you need something that isn't, check the next imagine over and give it a reblog.

You put your chin in your hand and furrowed your brows as you listened to the actors in front of you. The bright stage lights kept you at a suffocatingly hot temperature, but at this point, you didn't mind. What your main concern for the scene was simple: your leading actor was George MacKay. You had spent constant, stressful hours trying to convince the director of the show that he was not the choice, yet when it came down to it, what he said went, and you had to deal with the cleaning up. Today was not like any other. An almost two-hour practice, script work, lighting, etc, were all thrown at the actors still attempting to memorize their lines.

But it was this part, in particular, that was becoming the most difficult. Maybe it was because you were the ghostwriter of the script and the director was trampling on all of your ideas and dreams with a man that you could one-hundred-percent deem an enemy. Your lead character, Charlie, had a soft side to him, despite having an overpowering sense of the dangers of the world and a body to match. George wasn't Charlie. George was one of the lost boys from Peter Pan and that's all you could see him as. He needed to grow up and be a pirate with only two motives: breaking the chains of the dystopian government regime keeping him away from his wife and captaining the deadly sea creature infested waters and getting back to his wife in one piece.

But George's motives seemed to be entirely set on getting into his co-star's pants.

His cocky attitude and facade of charm made you want to rip your hair out. Sure, he took his job seriously and had several esteemed colleagues of yours raving about him, but this role wasn't his. It didn't help that you knew him from primary school, of all places, and once he found out, that's all he could bring up around you.

George rolled his sleeves and dragged a hand through his thick, red hair, the veins in his arm becoming rather predominant as he did so. He was damn near playing footsie with the girl in front of him; their flirty gazes bouncing from each other to the crumpled scripts in their hands. You rolled your eyes, feeling as if your team could see the steam rolling off your shoulders. The director was doing nothing, merely smiling giddily at the two tearing the scene to shreds. "Stop," you took the reins, standing up from your position on stage and tossing your script down. You stepped over to the two and the director didn't move an inch. "What are you doing?" You nipped, crossing your arms and stepping between George and his co-star.

He towered over you by miles; you weren't sure if this made him feel the superiority he exuded, but you always made sure to square your shoulders when you talked to him. "What do you mean? We're practicing," he slyly stated, sending a wink over your head to the girl.

You took the script from his hands, flipping a few pages to the scene they were supposed to be working on. He smirked down at you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you scan the page. His script was well-loved and worn as if it had been in his back pocket repeatedly, flipped through, folded, torn and taped, highlighted and annotated. You tried not to blush at the notes he had taken as if he had actually cared about his role. Notes such as movements and relative emotions were noted as if they were suggestions. You wet your lips, feeling George's easy-going gaze on you the whole time. "... Charlie, we have to get out of here..." You began, your eyes meeting his deep blue ones.

His face fell into a stern expression, his arms crossing heavily with a furrowed brow. "We've only just got here. I'm shipping out tomorrow. There's no way the Republic-" His Scottish accent was surprisingly thick and consistent. He was settling into Charlie.

"I don't care anymore. I'm tired of sitting idly by and watching you throw yourself away for a debt your brother can't repay." You swore you saw an actual feeling of hurt flash behind his eyes.

He chewed the inside of his cheek. "That debt is just as much mine as it is his. You're asking me to uproot and leave him, you know? I can't leave him."

"You'll die. You'll end up like the rest of the mariners haunting their wives for the rest of eternity. You're a slave." George took a few steps to stand in front of you, he was close enough that you could smell his cologne now: a sweet mix of sandalwood with hints of lavender. He smelled like a summer day spent at a cabin in the middle of a meadow. You hated it, but you wanted to bury yourself in his chest and bask in his scent for the remainder of your days.

He rested a hand on your neck, angling your face towards him as he whispered, "Look at me..." You attempted to ignore the beating of your heart in your ears and the sweat that began to spread across your back. "I'm free. I'm choosing this debt because, without it, he would die. He's the last piece of my father I have left."

You reached for his hand, covering it with your own. "What about me, Charlie? I'm here now. I'm flesh and blood in front of you. What about our child?"

"He'll be here when I get back." He pushed away from you, turning his back on you and settling his hands on his hips. "I'm not changing my mind." He looked over his shoulder at you. "Eden, I have to do this." You closed the script with a raised eyebrow, hiding how impressed you were that he actually knew his lines. The emotion he was conveying was nothing like how he had previously let on. You walked towards him and he turned back around. You pressed the script back into his hands and gave him a small glare.

"Practice how you play. I'm done with wasting time," you said more to the group than just him. The rest of the cast members weren't as proficient in hiding their amusement back as you were. The last thing George needed was another inflate to his ego. You went back to your spot, grabbing your clipboard and flipping over a few pages. The group began to gather around you slightly. "I need Eden and Charlie in with wardrobe now, the rest of you keep practicing your lines. I'll want to hear dialogue from Dane and Jack tomorrow. Give me another forty or so minutes and we'll call it?" The director nodded from the first row of seats. The crowd dispersed but George swam against the current of thespians, approaching you again.

He gave you one of his charming smiles. Be professional, you thought. "I was just wondering how that sounded to you?"

You thought for a moment, drawing the clipboard to your chest. "Yeah, it was good. Your accent's a bit dodgy, but the emotion is good. Why don't we see that during actual rehearsals?" You tilted your head at him and he looked at his shoes slightly, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Was he pretending to be humble?

"I don't know. I guess I like you more as Eden," he jeered, causing you to roll your eyes and he smiled wider.

"You're insufferable," you muttered, walking past him.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll grow on you."

You scoffed slightly. "Go get fitted for suspenders and leave me alone, MacKay."

The next few days were full of constant rehearsals both in costume and script memorization. You had to admit that for some reason this show had you wrapped in a bundle of tension and anxiety. George slowly tore away at your nerves, becoming his own mess of anger and frustration as he picked up more and more on the fact that you weren't going to take his shit. You were serious about this job and you were serious about this play. His humor had diminished as it had gotten closer and closer to opening night and you weren't surprised when he would snap back at you for making an adjustment to his tone or a note on the delivery of a line.

"Stop being such a bitch!" He groaned, tugging at his hair as you crossed your arms.

"Calm down, primadonna! All I'm saying is quit pacing! Charlie isn't pacing! Where in the script does it say he's pacing-"

"THAT'S RIDICULOUS. IT DOESN'T MATTER." He moved to stand in front of you, his teeth gritting slightly. This was what your discussion had grown into, one hissy fit flaring up the other.

"FUCK, YOU'RE RIGHT. I TOTALLY FORGOT YOU WERE THE ONE IN CHARGE, MR. MACKAY. SHOULD I JUST SUCK YOUR DICK RIGHT NOW SINCE WE'RE ALREADY ADDING IN UNNECESSARY ACTION," you would bite back causing him to glare up at the ceiling with his jaw clenching in a sarcastic smile. He wore your patience thinner than tulle. And you were hoping to be doing the same to him.

On the eve of opening night, a storm broke out over the city. You hadn't received word from your ride at all---a man you had been seeing on and off for a while, but still managed to keep him at enough distance that the two of you weren't official. You glared at your watch, deciding to say fuck it and just walk the five or so miles it was to your apartment. Your rain jacket was already soaked, your umbrella proving to be no help whatsoever. But you persevered knowing full-well that if your character, Eden, were in the situation, she wouldn't have batted an eye before dropping him and his lack of communication. As the water soaked into your boots and chilled you rather quickly, you bit your tongue, regretting not waiting for the bus. Cars past you at rushed paces, wanting to get home to their loved ones if the rain worsened---you figured.

Your heart began to pound as a car pulled up beside you, causing you to wrap your hand around the bottle of mace in your coat pocket. The window rolled down, but you kept walking. "Do you need a ride?" Hollered an almost too familiar voice.

You crossed your arms and continued to walk. "No!" You called back.

The car rolled forward and you heard the driver door open. George stepped out slightly, drawing his jacket up to fight against the biting wind. "Come on! Look at this weather!"

"I'm good! Go home, George!"

He tilted his head at you with a deadpan expression. "Don't make me throw you over my shoulder." You furrowed your brows and rolled your eyes, sliding into the passenger seat of his car and taking down your hood. George watched as you did this. He slipped off his jacket. "Here." He pulled his hoodie over his head. "Take your shirt off. You'll get hypothermia."

"Excuse me?" You nipped.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I won't look. You're soaked. Take my damn hoodie." You looked out the front window and then let out a huff. You peeled off your upper layer, no longer giving a fuck if George saw you in your bra. You looked over to him while he leaned his arm against his door, his cheek resting against his fist as he held his hoodie out to you. You pulled the garment over your head and couldn't help but snuggle into it. It was oversized and warm, smelling just like George. Your cold skin seemed to sigh against the soft material and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes at how content you were. George put the car into drive after he had made sure you were taken care of. You slipped your hands into the long sleeves and fought not to dig your nose into the neckline to breathe him in. His scent was like kryptonite to you and you hated it. "Are you hungry?" He asked, looking at you briefly and flipping the heat more to your side. He smiled almost proudly to himself at the sight of you enjoying his hoodie and the safety of his car.

You quickly braided your hair, attempting to combat the wet feeling of it against your neck. "No, I'm fine thanks."

"Come on. My treat? I've been a dick to you all week."

"Fine..." You mumbled. He found a nook of a restaurant jabbed into a part of London you had yet to explore. The rain had finally let up to a drizzle as the two of you made your way inside the softly lit eatery. The two of you tucked into a booth and ordered almost instantly, you now realizing just how hungry you actually were. "What were you doing in that part of town so late?" You finally asked after they brought out a hot tea for him and topped off your coffee. His large hands cradled the steaming mug in front of him, his nose slightly red from the chilly weather outside.

He chuckled slightly. "I forgot my script in the theatre and---for some reason---couldn't stop thinking about it." You nodded hesitantly. "Why were you walking home?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Such beautiful weather we're having. Thought I would take an evening stroll," you joked, causing him to chuckle lightly. George's face seemed to glow slightly under the cozy lights of the restaurant, his hair slightly disheveled and damp from the rain. You now got a full sight of the t-shirt he was wearing that commemorated a football team from the graduating year ahead of yours.

There was a beat of silence between you two. "Why..." George tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, attempting to find the right words. You furrowed your brows. "Why do you hate me so much?" If you weren't looking at him, you would have sworn he was smiling behind his question.

"Seriously?"

He nodded. "Seriously."

"You dated my best friend, Sophie, and broke her heart," you answered bluntly.

George sent you a puzzled expression for half a second before grinning slightly. "Yeah, but I was ten."

"Yeah, but now she's twenty-one and we still talk about it," you quipped, taking a sip of your coffee.

He exhaled. "I was... I was ten..." He furrowed his brows. "She was pretty. Hasn't some other guy broken up with her since me?"

You shrugged again. "No, she has this mindset where if she starts getting the feeling that things aren't working, she cuts out."

"She's been dwelling over me for how many years?" He couldn't fight the grin threatening to creep across his face.

You bit the inside of your cheek in thought. "I guess that would be twelve years." He whistled. "We're good at keeping grudges."

"Well, if I ever run into her, I'll apologize." He added a lump of sugar to his tea. "Is that the only reason?"

You debated ripping him a new one, but the tiredness you felt reflected in his eyes. "It's the kick-off point. Why? Do you wanna be buddies now?" You joked, sticking your spoon in your mouth.

He rested his hand in his chin. "Nah," he pursed his lips in thought. You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer, letting a titter escape your lips. "You're too young for me." You laughed a bit harder.

"Age is just a number, baby," you hummed and he smirked at you, a sparkle in his eye.

Comment if you would like to be tagged in the next part! Let us know what you think!

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagines #george #1917 imagines #1917 #imagine #reader insert #george mackay angst #angst #fluff #rain

170 notes · View notes

inyoursheets · 5 years ago

Note

8 12 18!

Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

i do, at least 90% of the time. you can blame hozier for the angsty turn warm water took. it started out so fluffy and then one night i listened to some of his music while the sun set and suddenly Feelings Happened and i changed it drastically.

Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

hmmmmmm well i don’t have any i desperately wanna write – plenty i desperately wanna read tho. but maybe a good old-fashioned soulmates!AU???? i don’t wanna have a long wishlist of tropes to write bc im not good at balancing multiple WIPs and rn i really don’t wanna start something new, which i might do if i think about this question too much. but there are a lot of tropes that i love!

What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

uhhhhh well since im pretty proud of managing to write rhea, rio and beth having sex in a way that doesn’t feel too OOC to me, here’s a scene from the instigator with DVD commentary.

Taking in the lines of her face, Beth feels giddy with relief. She can’t even begin to express how grateful she is they can have this, this inexplainable, twisted relationship that shouldn’t spark as many feelings deep down inside her as it does. God, she hasn’t had a relationship as difficult to navigate as this one since—

Oh.

Oh no.

so this sort of…….happened by accident? part of the dialogue i mean. part of this i had planned out – i wanted beth and rhea to talk about rio, i wanted to really dive into the complex relationship between beth and rhea and i wanted beth to feel some type of way about rhea and rio, but it wasn’t until later that i realized how easily i could draw a parallel between beth and rhea and beth and rio, which is how this line happened.

“You and him… What are you exactly?”

She looks over her shoulder, up at Rhea’s face. Rhea scoffs, but she smiles down at her, knowing immediately who she’s talking about.

“We’re parents. We’re exes. It’s not that complicated. Unlike you and him.”

Beth grimaces.

“Don’t remind me.”

She leans back against her legs, closing her eyes after taking another sip of the brown liquid Rhea often complains appalls her senses. She’s always quick to pipe back about Rhea’s penchant for rosé, but more often than not she gets reminded of how she brought the first bottle, making her the instigator.

Isn’t that what she always is? The instigator?

roll credits! i think i had the title in mind/was mulling it over and then this line just fit perfectly here, really demonstrating how i view the relationship between beth, rhea, and rio in this fic.

She wants to ask so much more. How often do they see each other? How often do they talk? How well does she know him? Does she like him, or does she simply tolerate him, as the father of her child? Still, the first question that makes it out of her mouth doesn’t revolve around that at all.

“What’s the last time you two…” Her voice trails off, as it should. Dear God, what is she thinking?

“What, fucked?” She can hear the smile in Rhea’s voice. “What’s it to you?” Beth’s cheeks redden quickly.

so in order to get from point a to point threesome, as the prompter put it, i needed to get sex on the table. in a way this is a ridiculous question to ask, but i also think this is the easiest one to voice out loud out of the others going through beth’s head at this point.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there are miles and miles between our entanglements with Chris.” She’s not sure what that was supposed to reassure either of them of. Or if it’s intentional, how loaded the words sound. She swallows.

“When was the last time? What was it like, I mean.” She can’t help herself. She just has to know.

“Aren’t you full of questions?” Rhea nudges a knee against her, then sighs. “Hmm, I think it was Marcus’ fifth birthday party. We’d been split up for a good while at that point, and we were good, but we were feeling sentimental. A little drunk, too, and it just felt natural, to go there.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“It felt good, you know? Familiar. Like catching up with an old friend, one you once knew like the back of your hand.”

She sounds a little wistful, like the thought of seeking out that familiarity again has crossed her mind more than once. It makes Beth tense up unwillingly, the creeping sense that she doesn’t know this man she’s been complicatedly entangled with for what feels like a lifetime as well as she thinks she does, as she hopes she does, clouding her mind.

so i know a lot of readers can feel a sense of….. threat, maybe, whenever rio is paired w/ anyone but beth. ive got a lot of theories about why that is and i understand that instinct, as much as i wanna hush it myself, personally. but i really don’t wanna portray rhea as….completely unaffecting rio? i don’t want to write a fic where the man is the prize, the one whose approval other characters try to win the most. so i didn’t wanna write rhea as still harboring feelings for him, but at the same time i do really envision them as having a sense of comradery, of friendship and familiarity, and i think that would extent to sex.

i wanted beth to feel left out of what rhea and rio have, but at the same time make it clear that what rhea and rio have versus what beth and rio have versus what rhea and beth have are very different things and they’re almost incomparable. like, rhea and rio have history and friendship and trust in a way that beth lacks with both of them – something i also tried to convey when they actually get down and dirty, but as rhea says herself before, they’re exes, they’re parents, it’s not that complicated. what they feel for each other isn’t complicated, unlike what rhea feels for beth, unlike what beth feels for rhea, unlike what beth and rio feel for each other.

Rhea studies her face, her silence. “What’s it to you?” she repeats, voice not unkind. Beth shrugs.

“I’m just trying to understand, I guess. Make sense of him.”

“Good luck with that,” Rhea snorts, knocking back her glass of wine in one go. And just with that, the clouds dissipate, the sun back into view.

with all that i said before in mind – i also didn’t want beth to actually be threatened by rhea and rio’s relationship. it's fine for her to feel threatened – that’s actually fun to write and came in handy later, also in part two – but i wanted to make sure beth and rhea aren’t in some sort of competition for rio – which is why i literally made the clouds dissipate here. if anything, i wanted rio and rhea to be in competition, which, in a way they actually are in this fic! but again as i said before, the different relationships between the characters really aren’t all that comparable, so there is no real competition, not in any ‘direction’.

i really enjoyed diving into the different relationships and i wanted to give all of them their own appeal. i think what rhea and beth have is something unique and fascinating, something rio can’t touch or fulfill, just like beth can’t ever have with rio what rhea and rio have, exactly, just like rhea isn’t what rio is for beth. im trying to dive into that even more in the second part, also considering what the prompter asked (rio and beth confronting their feelings the day after), meaning there is brio endgame. but……i love beth and rhea together too much to just completely upend everything i built for them, so…………….. as my fic notes say, marcus, baby, you have some parenting throuple action in your future.

thank you so much for asking and letting me ramble!!!!

fic bts questions

#ask #ask games #sothischickshe #my fic #brio fic #GGPAT2020

13 notes · View notes

unexpectedcronchiness · 5 years ago

Text

Pt 7 i think we’re at im just vomiting ideas heck yeah more wolfstar

Based on a text “ sirius is put in an arranged marriage with a pureblood witch or it can be muggle au but with a female (he's gay in this) and remus is the wedding planner “

no warnings on this one either it just fluffy

arranged marriage, who even thought of shit like that? still it wasn't remus' place to question. He walked into the room, prepared to give his "Ok so theme ideas, what do you like, what actually looks good" speech but he stops dead in his tracks

first off, theres a man alone here

usually both partners are together

and secondly hes absolutely gorgeous

this was going to be problematic, remus rarely thought anyone was attractive, but when he did, he fell hard

the man noticed him and stood up, and held out his hand

"sirius orion black, i see you have the, ah, pleasure, of working with my family on getting the union from hell organized"

remus couldn't help it, he laughed

he'd seen arranged marriage cases before, but legally he wasn't allowed to do anything, trust me, he checked

but never were people so blatantly outright in their discomfort or annoyance

honestly it was refreshing

laughing was unprofessional and he was being paid a hefty amount of money to make something tasteful yet elegant, so he steeled his face and started his speech

-----

days passed and he found himself spending more time than necessary with sirius

he couldn't help it

at first he was just curious but then it was something more, it was intense and new. Sirius was funny, charming, kind, witty and so much more

yet there was something subtle, something dark shadowing his features

something that remus couldn't help but be pulled to

he had his own secrets of course, being a werewolf was hard enough, but then managing the top wedding planner office in the wizarding world and trying to keep it all a secret was unbearable

yet he loved it

he loved secrets and the way they kept you warm, the way you were allowed to be possessive and cautious and no one thought any less of you because everyone has secrets. It's universal and completely personal at the same time

so he held onto his newfound secret that he was undeniably genuinely attracted to this sirius orion black.

------

" i was thinking for the flowers maybe something like an acacia blossom" acacia blossoms meant concealed love, amoungst other things, but concealed love was what he was going for but it's not like he would know what it meant

yet the way sirius looked at him after he said it unsettled him

his mouth agape, eyes wide in realisation

then he said "i rather like ambrosia" shit. Ambrosia, your love is reciprocated.

shit shit shit

what was he doing flower flirting with the heir to the blacks, one of the wealthiest pureblood families in the wizarding world

and ya know, that thing how he was going to GET MARRIED And remus was supposed to be helping him

"hmm maybe white lilies" it's heavenly to be with you but, "but, you'll probably like stephanotis better" stephanotis, happiness in marriage

sirius laughed

"do i look like i'd enjoy stephanotis better? besides, women aren't really my type. How about sterling silver roses?" Love at first sight, oh merlin

Remus couldn't resist

"so what is your type then"

sirius grinned cheekily

Dr.Remelems-the fluff monsterToday at 7:47 AM

"hmm, well let's see, men for starters, in case you didn't get my extreme subtlety. Camelia" you're a flame in my heart, shit he was good

he continued

"gold eyes, dirty blond hair, that shimmers in the sunlight, incredibly sexy scars, a nice sense of humor, an understanding of flowers is also deeply important, Carnation" My heart aches for you, admiration. Oh merlin he was in deep

"don't know where you'd find a guy like that he seems impossible, and aren't you supposed to be getting married. Gardenia, white heathers" You're lovely, secret love and wishes could come true, protection

remus hoped it conveyed everything he was willing to risk for this man

he would willingly risk an affair, he would protect this man, give him everything no matter what and he'd only known him for a month

sirius, as remus learned had absolutely no control of his emotions on his face, but at least he knew that he knew what it meant

sirius feigned casualness

"let me one up you, orange blossom, peony.... stehphanotis but with viscaria?" eternal love, marriage, happy marriage, happiness in marriage but when combined with viscaria, will you dance with me, did he, was he understanding this right

unable to play games any longer remus choked out

"did- did you just propose to me in flowers?"

sirius looked bashful

"well i mean uh yeah, but uh I'd need your help in getting out of this current uh, marriage thing if you wanted to do this i know thats not a yes but it would be difficult and i just-"

Remus cut him off

"jesus merlin and morgana yes."

"i do" he said solemnly

sirius looked happier than remus had ever seen him, no shadows, no undertones

"ok so i don't know how to get out of this current ya know marriage thing, i haven't made an unbreakable vow or anything, well yet at least and-"

"Sirius you brilliant man you, you've given me an idea"

----------

It was the day of the wedding. Sirius was standing at the alter, whatser name getting ready in one of the back rooms. The flowers they had chosen, spider flowers (elope with me, sirius and remus both thought it was funny) and remus was ready, in a suit that was probably more decorative than a wedding planner needed, but little did they know, he was probably underdressed

it was his wedding day after all

Remus went over to sirius, walking intentionally down the aisle as he did. It was on purpose yes, but everyone else didn't look twice as the ceremony had yet to start. silently, he gripped his wand and cued the music.

everyone turned to face remus in shock, sirius beamed, as a man should look on his wedding day. Cries of rage came from the black family as it clicked what was happening.

walburga black began to leap up, brandishing her wand but was stopped by an invisible force keeping her to the chair, and the chair to the floor. or ya know, a sticking charm

they'd figure out how to get it off eventually and he only needed a little bit of time anyways

being a wedding planner had perks

he reached the altar and grabbed sirius' hands.

The clergyman looked shook, but also suddenly understood the vague wording in his contract, shrugged, and went on with it

if remus was being honest, he didn't remember much of what the clergyman said, he didn't remember the cries of outrage from the black family

what he did remember was the look in sirius' eyes, the smile that was so large it threatened to come off his face, the tight, nervous grip of his hands

remus remembered that most of all

remus remembered hearing sirius say i do, tears in the old saps eyes, and then he remembered hearing it from himself

screams of protest and indignation sounded like music to his ears but then suddenly he heard clapping and cheers

he turned around in shock and saw that whatserface was in the aisle, in jeans and a hoodie, leading her family in appluase

*applause

as would later be explained to the black family. Remus had not taken an unbreakable vow to marry or love sirius for ever. neither of them could promise that. but what had happened however was meridith (as he learned her name was) and sirius had made an unbreakable vow to never marry eachother

turns out meredith was undeniably gay and had a girlfriend

and so in the confusion they were wed, and the blacks could do nothing of it, for worries of risk admitting they were beanboozled by a their heir and his husband, or worse that they had made the worst match in all of pureblood history with two incredible gay queens.

yet something gnawed at remus

one day, a year later, he went up to sirius

it was time, the secret didn't feel as warm and personal anymore

instead it felt dirty and aggressive, mean, harmful

he walked up to sirius

shit he was not crying, he was not crying but he started to speak

"i-i think it's time-time for you to know- and- and i just want- i just want to say to you, i love you so much, more than anything and imsosorry and"

"honey whats the matter, is this about your uh, 'furry little problem"

remus blinked

what

the heck

sirius couldn't help but chuckle

"darling you're hardly inconspicuous, ive known since we were 'dating"

remus couldn't help it, he bawled

sirius pulled him into his arms, tenderly holding him

"hey, hey, hey shh, hey, single full bloom roses, pink rose, rose leaf" i love you, i still love you, perfect happiness, please believe me, you may hope. Remus translated these automatically and allowed himself to finally feel content

THE END

-bonus- after the whole debacle purebloods thought twice about arranged marriages and let their kids be for a while, and so meredith took advantage of this and her girlfriend and her got married, (remus was the planner, they had all turned out to be quite good friends)

#wolfstar #remus x sirius #sirius black #sirius #remus lupin #remus #walburga #walburga black #wedding planner au #arranged marriage au #au #hc #wedding #weddings #flower langage #fluff

17 notes · View notes