#i am just. exhausted. and disappointed. and angry. and sad. and exhausted again. and holding it together with will & gritted teeth
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Chapter 9
Since the moment Y/n was born she was already rejected by thr world. She had two loving parents that worked good paying jobs and spoiled her to death. That was until the diagnosis. When Y/n was two she all of a sudden wouldn't respond to her name whenever her parents were talking to her, started biting them, and had tantrums when things were too loud.
Worried about her daughter they took her to a doctor where they figured out she was on thre autism spectrum. Both her parents were disappointed and started treating her differently since then. There was no more warm hugs and "I love yous" just angry glances and quick snotty responses. School was no different. The bullying was awful and the teacher did nothing about it. By the time she was 11, Y/n would start to act younger to cope with not having a childhood. Sometimes voluntary others involuntarily. She didn't know why she did this until she was in the library reading a psychology book and the term "age regression" was mentioned.
Since then you'd steal some adult pacifiers, coloring books, and stuffed animals to hide in your room. This helped with your school and home life becasue you finally had a way to cope with the abuse. Then the night the demon attacked and ripped your mother and father to shreds. You sat in the corner of your room holding your stuffy close while you cried.
Muzan heard you and slammed the door open. He's never seen any of his victims act like this. He was intrigued. Not intrigued enough to let you go though. He kneeled down to you and you started hitting your head against the wall. Muzan chuckled and stuck his finger in your stomach releasing his blood into you. He left as you screamed in pain. You would have died if a spirit with hanafuda earrings didn't help. He held you in his lap as he petted your hair.
You were confused becasue you couldn't physically feel him but spiritually you could. You haven't seen him since but every night you wished he'd come back. Instead of seeing your savior again you've been getting night terrors that would result in panic attacks. Shinobu knew the other girls needed sleep so she asked the other hashira if she could stay with them for a week to try and solve your night terrors.
To her shock and disbelief Sanemi said you two could stay with him. When she asked why he just said.
"Its my way of apologizing"
That was enough for her so she took you two to Sanemis estate. She knocked on the door until Sanemi opened the door. Shinobu was wearing her usual attire while you were wearing the demon slayer uniform with a matching harori. Mitsuri had it custom made for you saying how it would be so cute for you two to match.
'Fuck she's cute' Sanemi thought.
"Salami!"
'Nevermind..'
Y/n quickly embraced Sanemi in a hug. She was so much shorter than him so the embrace was barely at his waist. Shinobu had to cover her laugh with her hand while Sanemi glared at his fellow hashira. Eventually, Y/n let go and went to explore the house leaving the two colleagues to chat.
"Are you sure about this? I can't promise you're going to get a good night's rest"
"I figures as much. Let me take care of her while you rest. Your eye bags say it all"
Shinobu twitched her eye. How rude! But he was right. She was exhausted and needed sleep if she was gonna keep caring for her baby.
"Are you sure about this? If you need me don't be afraid to wake me up"
"I've got this just get your ass to bed"
Shinobu nodded and headed off to a guest bedroom. Now that left you. Sanemi knew he was way over his head but he needed to earn Shinobus forgiveness. He grumbled and walked around trying to look for the regressor. After some time Sanemi found her sitting in the shade outside looking up at the butterflies. Her eyes seemed like she was thinking about something sad.
"Why am I such a freak" Y/n whispered and then cried into her teddy
Sanemi wasn't sure how to comfort you. You'd probably freak out if he touched her so he tried a different approach instead. He quickly went to the kitchen and made some ohagi. As he finished up he turned around to see your purple tear stained eyes clutching your stuffie. Sanemi awkwardly handed her some ohahi which she took with her hand and shoved in her mouth quickly eating.
"Nummy!"
Y/n eyes glowed brightly when suddenly a pair of purple butterfly wings appeared on her back. Sanemi just stood there mouth open trying to process what he was seeing.
A little that could fly...
A lot of trouble
"No fucking way.."
"Fuck?"
Oh god, now he was really fucked
"Brat, you can't say that?"
Y/n cocked her head to the side in confusion not understanding what she did wrong. All she said was a word that uncle Sanemi said. How was that bad?
“It’s a bad word that you’re not aloud to say just leave it at that”
Y/n nodded her hand and kept eating the ohagi. After eating the five more that were on the tray Sanemi offered to take her on a walk around his estate which you happily agreed to. On the condition that he carried you which led to a long sigh but did it regardless. After 10 minutes he felt a small bite in his shoulder. Sanemi then remembered that this is how the little one showed affection and admiration to the people she loved.
“I’ll let it slide just this once”
Y/n giggled and hugged his neck. Sanemi stopped walking and froze. When his little siblings were still alive they’d cling onto his neck when their father would beat his mother. He’d hold them close and tell them everything would be okay and that’d he’d protect them.
Y/n thought something was wrong so she put her hand on his cheek and was about to cry. Sanemi snapped out of it when he heard her sniffles.
“I’m okay brat calm down” Sanemi softly said and started to bounce her on his hip. This caused Y/n to start laughing and start swinging her legs. Sanemi smiled at this since nobody was around to see him. Not only that but Sanemi was actually happy. It was like being with his little siblings all over again.
“Wanna fly kid!”
“Yaa”
Sanemi threw Y/n high in the air and then catches her. The third time Sanemi throws the baby in the air butterfly wings come out of her back and she starts flying.
“Kid come down” Sanemi orders
Y/n tries too but she keeps going further higher and higher in the air. At this point she’s freaking out and crying. Sanemi uses one of his wind breathing techniques to launch himself in the air so he can grab her and return her safely to the ground.
Y/n was shaking in his hold trying hard not to cry but some tears managed to escape.
“It’s okay kid you’re safe” Sanemi softly said and rocked her back and forth. Right now you just wanted Shinobu. Of course you loved Sanemi but he wasn’t your caretaker.
“Mama!”
‘She has been sleeping for awhile now hopefully she’s well rested now because I don’t know how to deal with this’
Sanemi carried you back into his estate being shocked to see Shinobu sitting on the couch.
“Oh my poor baby! What’s wrong?” Shinobu worryingly asked.
Y/n reached her arms out to her and Sanemi sat you next to Shinobu.
“We were playing and when I threw her in the air those damn wings came out”
“What wings?” Shinobu asked curiously
“The brat has butterfly wings and can fly on top of having all those damn insects around. Pretty annoying if you ask me”
Shinobu was secretly dreading you now having wings. Flying around her estate crashing into things and knocking stuff over. She prayed to the gods none of that would happen. Sanemi continued to chat with Shinobu about things mostly about missions and how her poison was developed while you were falling asleep with a small smile on your face.
#fandom agere#little space#agere#agerereader#little!reader#age regression#agere caregiver#age regressor#agere reader#knyagere#demon slayer agere
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Descendants 2- Ch. 14: Disagree
Carlos’ POV
I gotta say, this is probably the best party I’ve ever been to! Seriously, how many dances end with a splash fight?
“I didn’t know you could dance!” Jane giggles as we dance to the fast tempo.
“I’m more than just a crazy dog person!” I tease. “VKs know how to dance!”
The night goes by way too fast, and soon enough the attendants start ushering everyone off the barge. Mal and Ben walk off to speak with Ben’s parents about enforcing security, and Evie goes off with Doug. Jane says she needs to help her mom clean up, but will meet me later in the courtyard. I look around for Magica, but am unsuccessful. Where did she go? I thought she’d be happy about Ben allowing more VKs into Auradon.
“Dude? Where are you?” I search for the troublesome canine and find him trotting down a dirt path. “Where were you?”
“I followed Binx,” he says nonchalantly. “Magica was having a moment.”
My thoughts fly. “Magica? Where is she? Is she ok?”
He scoffs and perches next to my feet. “As if you’d even notice, loverboy.”
I frown and tilt my head. “What do you mean?”
He shakes his head. “Ugh, never mind. If you wanna find her, she’s in the school garden.”
Magica’s POV
“And you’re sure you want this?” Binx asks.
After I retrieve the Sanderson’s binding book from its hiding place I decide to walk through the gardens for one final goodbye.
“Yes. I’m positive.”
“But that means-”
“That I’ll officially be an outcast? I know, Binx.”
What he’s talking about is my plan to leave my final mark on Auradon Prep. I’ve let my flames spread over the hedges and singed the words ‘never forget’ as my message. I’ll never forget what they did to me, so they best not forget who I am. Sandersons have a way of holding a grudge.
“I’m guessing you’re going back into hiding?”
A new voice startles me and I spin around ready to spell the intruder-
“Carlos?” I blink in response to his appearance. “What are you- How did you know I was here?”
“I told him!” Dude speaks up.
By now Carlos has seen my message on the hedge. “What’s that?”
Lingering emotions beg me to apologize and forget the whole thing, but that part of me is dying. I’m sick and tired of pretending everything is fine!
“You saw how everyone reacted at Cotillion. They still see me as a wicked Sanderson witch. Why live among them and bother trying to shift their stubborn minds when I can be myself where no one’s watching?”
Carlos’ face falls and he gets defensive. “Magica, if you’d just stop running away from your problems then you could show people you’re not evil!”
My anger spikes and I flick sparks at his feet, causing him to jump. “Do not lecture me about hiding my feelings, De Vil!”
He gasps. “But I’m your friend! And I can’t allow you to burn the garden!”
I snicker. “That’s pretty sad coming from you.”
“Says the witch who nearly just set the garden on fire!” He gets agitated and starts gesturing to the hedges. “We do harmless pranks. This is an act of anarchy!”
I knew it. If I act sad and distant, people see it as pitiful. Once I change to be angry and disagreeing then they try to control me again.
“I’m going away, Carlos.” I bring a hand to his cheek and he flinches away, but I remain calm. “Don’t try to find me. Tell Mal that if she needs me, I’ll find her. But unless Auradon is willing to look past its stubborn and selfish ways then they should keep their corrupt business out of mine.”
“Seems to me like you’re just as stubborn and selfish,” Carlos murmurs. “What happened to the kind white witch who helped everyone?”
My attempts at a peaceful parting wither away and I see there’s no changing his mind. I give a heavy sigh and walk off to the garden’s exit.
“She’s gone. Replaced by someone wiser, and more aware of what kind of a world we live in. I’m sorry Carlos, but I’ve exhausted my efforts of trying to be someone I’m not for far too long.” I look back one last time, almost crushed when I see the disappointment in his eyes. “I wish you only the best, Carlos. Maybe someday our paths will cross again under different circumstances.”
Binx jumps up onto my shoulder. With one final flash of purple flames, I use my new-found transportation magic and we vanish.
I’m no longer doing this for you. It’s time to forget being perfect and finally put my own interests at heart.
#descendants carlos#carlos descendants#carlos de vil x reader#carlos de vil#mal descendants#evie descendants#jay descendants#ben descendants#doug descendants#jane descendants#audrey descendants#uma descendants#harry hook descendants#gil descendants#binx hocus pocus#hocus pocus#sarah sanderson#winifred sanderson#mary sanderson
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
RESTORATION
She stood there. Open. Unguarded. Undone. Simply being there in the middle of the world swirling the winds of uncertainty. She knew that her heart could get hurt. But she couldn’t do it any other way.
She dismantled the walls, the safety of her shadow that kept her safe since the days of the great fragmentation. A long-forgotten season of her life, until life brought her back to her knees.
She was broken open once more. The initiation of her heart began once again. And the restoration of her soul called her to dig deeper this time. But not in the same places she dug before. Those sites are closed. She returned the sacred bones to the grave site and with reverence she covered them with the soil of her soul.
She must dig elsewhere. New wounds emerged. Not the mother's wound. Not the child's wound. But this time the wound of her own doing. The wound of her own self-doubt. Fears that she is not good enough. That she has nothing of value to give.
She, a Giver by nature, doubts her offers.
Doubting the gift given to her.
After all the work she’s done on herself she finds herself back to her sacred site. She is exhausted. She feels broken. Fragmented.
Ashamed that the gods can see inside her heart and know the truth of her untruth.
And yet, all she desires is to be true to what she feels. She doesn’t want it masked, covered by the spiritual dogma as dangerous as the pills a doctor would push on her.
She wants to be real. Even in her pain. Even in her disappointment with the world. With those she called “friends”. She sits with the philosophical, psychological, spiritual, the social perspectives on “letting go.” forgiving, and moving on. This is the time of deep excavation. A longing to restore. To reclaim. To recover the truth. Her truth.
No one is obligated to understand her truth. And no one is required to. She looks into herself and knows that hearts can be broken. And hearts can be restored. No matter what. No matter who let her down.
And please, don’t tell her that she is not entitled to her perspective. Do not try to take away her right to see the world through the lens of her own life. Her own archetypes. Her own enneagram.
And how to begin the restoration of her truth?
By remembering who she is.
Start again slowly. Dismiss what is not sacred to you. Write about your values. Write about what makes you angry. Write about what makes you sad. Write about what you have mastered.
In my own restoration, I allow the memories of past lives to flow into my heart. And I feel my heart beating in my chest. This chest that nurtured babies in their lives is remembered. But not in this one. The fear that there is no one to remember her after she’s gone is real. What will happen to her ashes? This year brought her even closer to her mortality. A constant in the life of all mortals. And she is no different.
She goes back and forth between speaking of herself and the selves of others. Aren’t all the same? Is my breaking the breaking of all my sisters?
What have we learned in the past few years? In my restoration, in my remembrance I see myself buried in a corner of the dwelling where I used to live at the beginning of my existence. I have been around the sun many times. I am a Seer. I see in people’s hearts. I feel people’s feelings.
I am dragged out of myself by strings of hope. I am humbled once again by my unknowing. Those that say that know don’t know. Those that speak as they know my heart they don’t know.
She, the Soul Deep Woman is waking up.
Spiritual bypassing is a side of her that is just as hurt as any part of her that hangs on to some illusive truth that might save her from feeling lonely.
As she remembers past lives, she moves with compassion, and self-compassion, into holding close to her heart those dear to her in this realm of existence.
She mothers herself in a way that she was never mothered.
Not judging her mother. Her father. But seeing the truth of them living their truth. And it’s ok to see the truth and not cover it up with the cloak of positivity.
To make changes, to stand in our power, to stand in our truth we are called to disrobe ourselves of false teachings. She is now aware that what some call “spiritual” is a false teaching that keeps her from her own truth.
And what is to be done after remembrance?
Restoration calls her to revive the belief that she is worthy. She is allowed to feel. She is allowed to fail and make mistakes. She no longer makes excuses for others. She knows right from wrong.
What once boxed her, what once shackled her is now the story that she must tell. Everything that happened to her, happened for her. And she knows it.
Nothing was lost. No tear was in vain. She takes it all in. And she is better for it. For now, she knows that she can’t wait for others to speak her message. To share her truth.
She is the messenger and the message. Her truth is her story. She is the story and the storyteller. Not the story of pain. But the new story emerges from under layers of betrayal, despair, abandonment, and loneliness.
And she is now in restoration. The soil of her soul is tilled.
This is a holy time. This is sacred unearthing…
~Corina Luna Dea
Sacred Divine Feminine
0 notes
Text
RESTORATION~
She stood there. Open. Unguarded. Undone. Simply being there in the middle of the world swirling the winds of uncertainty. She knew that her heart can get hurt. But she couldn’t do it any other way.
She dismantled the walls, the safety of her shadow that kept her safe since the days of the great fragmentation. A long forgotten season of her life, until life brought her back to her knees.
She was broken open once more. The initiation of her heart began once again. And the restoration of her soul called her to dig deeper this time. But not in the same places she dug before. Those sites are closed. She returned the sacred bones to the grave site and with reverence she covered them with the soil of her soul.
She must dig elsewhere. New wounds emerged. Not the mother wound. Not the child wound. But this time the wound of her own doing. The wound of her own self-doubt. Fears that she is not good enough. That she has nothing of value to give.
She, a Giver by nature, doubting her offers.
Doubting the gift given to her.
After all the work she’s done on herself she finds herself back to her sacred site. She is exhausted. She feels broken. Fragmented.
Ashamed that the gods can see inside her heart and know the truth of her untruth.
And yet, all she desires is to be true to what she feels. She doesn’t want it masked, covered by the spiritual dogma as dangerous as the pills a doctor would push on her.
She wants to be real. Even in her pain. Even in her disappointment with the world. With those she called “friends”. She sits with the philosophical, the psychological, the spiritual, the social perspectives on “letting go.” On forgiving and moving on. This is the time of deep excavation. A longing to restore. To reclaim. To recover the truth. Her truth.
No one is obligated to understand her truth. And no one is required to. She looks into her Self and knows that hearts can be broken. And hearts can be restored. No matter what. No matter who let her down.
And please, don’t tell her that she is not entitled to her perspective. Do not try to take away her right to see the world through the lens of her own life. Her own archetypes. Her own enneagram.
And how to begin the restoration of her truth?
By remembering who she is.
Start again slowly. Dismiss what is not sacred to you. Write about your values. Write about what makes you angry. Write about what makes you sad. Write about what you have mastered.
In my own restoration, I allow the memories of past lives to flow into my heart. And I feel my heart beating in my chest. This chest that nurtured babies in lives remembered. But not in this one. The fear that there is no one to remember her after she’s gone is real. What will happen to her ashes? This year brought her even closer to her mortality. A constant in the life of all mortals. And she is no different.
She goes back and forth between speaking of herself and the selves of others. Aren’t all the same? Is my breaking the breaking of all my sisters?
What have we learned in the past few years? In my restoration, in my remembrance I see myself buried in a corner of the dwelling where I used to live in the beginning of my existence. I have been around the sun many times. I am a Seer. I see in people’s hearts. I feel people’s feelings.
I am dragged out of my self by strings of hope. I am humbled once again by my unknowing. Those that say that know don’t know. Those that speak as they know my heart they don’t know.
She, the Soul Deep Woman is waking up.
Spiritual bypassing is a side of her that is just as hurt as any part of her that hangs on to some illusive truth that might save her from feeling lonely.
As she remembers past lives, she moves with compassion, self-compassion, into holding close to her heart those dear to her in this realm of existence.
She mothers herself in a way that she was never mothered.
Not judging her mother. Her father. But seeing the truth of them living their truth. And it’s ok to see the truth and not cover it up with the cloak of positivity.
To make changes, to stand in our power, to stand in our truth we are called to disrobe ourselves of false teachings. She is now aware that what some call “spiritual” is false teaching that keeps her from her own truth.
And what is to be done after remembrance?
Restoration calls her to revive the belief that she is worthy. She is allowed to feel. She is allowed to fail and make mistakes. She no longer makes excuses for others. She knows right from wrong.
What once boxed her, what once shackled her is now the story that she must tell. Everything that happened to her, happened for her. And she knows it.
Nothing was lost. No tear was in vain. She takes it all in. And she is better for it. For now she knows that she can’t wait for others to speak her message. To share her truth.
She is the messenger and the message. Her truth is her story. She is the story and the storyteller. Not the story of pain. But the new story emerging from under layers of betrayal, despair, abandonment and loneliness.
And she is now in restoration. The soil of her soul is tilled.
This is holy time. This is sacred unearthing…
......................................
Reflection by Archaeology for the Woman's Soul
Corina Andronache -- Corina Luna Dea
Photo: Art by Blake Munch
0 notes
Note
❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜ (to Jayn~)
"I'm pregnant. I have our baby in me, Cass & I don't know if I can--if I--" Jayn's eyes welled up with tears that she'd been holding back for two whole days. "Y'know I'm always late. I just had a feeling. & well, we haven't exactly been 'safe' the last couple of times..."
As in, having a frenetic four-person orgy when Caleb finally came home before 10 earlier in the week. Jayn & Pogue going from sleeping in to cuddling to dry humping to him pounding her into oblivion while she held onto the headboard for dear life...the same Saturday Caleb & Cass went to the farmers' market & gave each other handjobs in his car. Caleb fucking Jayn in the bathroom two floors below his office, because his meeting had pissed him off & she'd conveniently been nearby. Pogue taking Cass apart in front of their full-length mirror as a "punishment" for her ogling him as he got dressed for work. & then, not that anyone would get pregnant from it necessarily (well, not initially), that time when the mischievous three competed to see who could give Cass the best oral for her birthday (the "best" taking how quickly she came, how hard she came & how loudly she came into account; as with all their competitions, the receiver got five minutes to relax after each orgasm*).
Jayn gulped, nervous fingers latching onto the disposable napkin in front of her. She always grabbed onto things when her anxiety took hold. She also had trouble maintaining eye contact.
"I took six tests on Wednesday. Two for each brand, all positive." Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, almost drawing blood. "I'm pregnant," she whispered, tears wetting the napkin. So much for having a fun Friday lunch. "What am I...I know you want kids. Caleb does. Pogue does. & I want you guys to have them, but...I can't be a mom. I can't! Look at me! I'm pathetic. Should they really get magic & being sad all the time, because of me? & what if I'm not a good mom-?"
Her voice cracked. She didn't want to say it, but all four of them had dealt with some kind of parent-related pain. Her father, who wasn't a witch in any way, had been horrified when she displayed her powers for the first time years ago. Caleb's dad had been so selfish that he hurt his family & himself, driving Caleb's mom to become an alcoholic. Pogue's parents...they only ever communicated with the Parrys when one of the other Sons served as a middleman, because those two disapproved of everything Pogue loved, all after abusing him for years. & Cass's mom & her husband were assholes. Jayn didn't want her kids dealing with any of that because of her.
"...I was going to say something before Monday, I swear..." She couldn't bring herself to look up & see her wife's shocked or angry or disappointed expression. To know she hurt Cass...anyone who hurt Cassia Keller (well, Cassia Danvers legally) was a horrible human being. "I'm scared. For the kid, for me having all the symptoms--I know that's selfish, but I am--how are we even going to raise them? I'd get maternity leave, obviously...Pogue doesn't even go in all the time now, but he has to sometimes...Caleb's always busy, or at least exhausted...& you wouldn't have work off unless you took vacation time..." But all that felt like an excuse.
It felt like the whole world was frowning down at her, grumbling about how much of a coward she was & how so many people wished they could be in her position.
What the hell was she supposed to do?
#jkw: thread#astral-athame#thanks for the ask!#pregnancy mention tw#tw: pregnancy mention#pregnancy tw#tw: pregnancy#up to you if you want to do a 1-response thing...I just didn't want to write Cass's reaction to something this big#& obv it's not canon since it's not an RP thread but it IS how Jayn would feel esp since it's a surprise
1 note
·
View note
Text
tate & cora.
you’re the only one i want, cora. the words echoed through her head and pinged in her heart. it was enough for the girl to give herself fully to this bargain and make any and all efforts to win tate back. “you’re the only one for me, tate,” she stated back, though it was obvious. cora found it hard not get wrapped up in a moment that was still filled with bargains and disappointment as she took the other’s hands and held on like they were a lifejacket. “i believe you. i’m sorry i did all this stupid shit and i’m asking for all this reassurance,” cora’s guilt began to set in, something that always happened after an outburst, and tears glistened in her eyes, “you don’t deserve it. and i want to be the kind of girl who actually deserves you, tate. i swear it.” she didn’t try to behave the way she did, but the girl was incredibly passionate and found it hard to hold in her impulsive outbursts, like tonight for a prime example. she often hurt the people she cared about most, and she truly wanted to stop doing that. at least to tate. “i’ll have someone come by at, like, 6 am. i swear. and i can get you a rental car if it’s going to take long or drive you places myself or whatever fixes this fucking mess i made.” though part of her was still proud of her ‘masterpiece’ she was well aware of how wrong it was. she couldn’t help but smile at tate’s invite. “i’d love to come in. but only because you have the comfiest couch, it’s insane. i miss that couch.” she figured it was the polite thing to assume she would sleep on the couch, despite desperately missing their warmth beside her in bed. “thank you.” you could hear a whole world of gratitude in those two words as cora followed the other inside, hoping she didn’t fuck this up again.
just as quickly as tate gets angry, just as quickly does it disappear when they see cora like this. so sad and vulnerable and human. this was the cora that tate wished they could see more of. tate was exhausted from all of the fighting and they just wanted to be with cora, the two of them starting over for the . . . hell, tate had definitely lost count. "you do deserve me. we deserve each other," tate responded as they held onto cora's hands. they had missed this more than anything in the world. tate had been so alone without cora, feeling so hollow and empty. but now that cora was back, all of those feelings went away. "that's great. i don't think it should take too long to fix but if you wanna drive me around, i wouldn't really complain about that." and maybe it'd help cora trust them again if she saw the limited places they went to. "it's, uh, no problem," tate assured, holding onto cora's hand as they led her inside of her apartment. it was nothing new for cora, given that tate hadn't bothered to change a single thing about the apartment. they were simply too lazy to. "you know," tate began as they closed and locked the door after them, "you don't really have to sleep on the couch, cora. we've known each other too long to go back to that. you can sleep with me. i'm sure we're capable of actually sleeping together, aren't we?" despite that, tate's heart skipped a beat at the thought of lying next to cora again.
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
hey y’all ever think about how the new narrative (at least in the league, and a little from some sabres fans) is that the sabres can finally get a true rebuild done, shaking off the haunted vibes from jack, but using what he was traded for. and it’s just like. he was supposed to save the franchise right? and there is so much budding hope in the sabres i’ve seen recently.
like some ppl are already projecting tuch for next captain. the sabres seem to be developing krebs pretty well & he’s def getting more play than he would’ve in vegas. they also have a 1st & 3rd round pick from the trade that could go so many ways to rounding out that increasingly youthful roster.
and the irony is that jack maybe did finally save the franchise. by leaving.
#ooohhh ooohhhhh aily is in their jack feels again excuse me excuse me#it’s just so bittersweet. as an eichs narrative obsessive#the funny thing for me is knowing i Really did not care that much before#i was specifically pointedly dispassionate about the 2015 draft class bc i just refused to partake in the weird nationalist feud#the mcdavid vs eichel was so Weirdly patriotic on both sides and i Hated it. also i just have Never cared for the Next One gimmick#didn’t like it on crosby didn’t like it on mcdavid. trying not to let it affect my opinion on bedard as the next big name nhl projected 1oa#tho we’re still 2 drafts off from the bedard scramble. lord protect any other child in that draft projected near him#anyway i could’ve gone his whole career not giving half a fuck about eichs until the surgery hubbub happened. whoof#even while on hockey hiatus i followed a handful of hockey podcasts just to know a general idea of what was going on even if i didn’t watch#puck soup got me digging up the eichs narrative even before i was back to following the canucks roster and whatnot#but boy i tumbled right in and dove deep on the eichs narrative. here i still am just chilling occasionally coming back with shiny rocks#i’m always gonna side with an individual over an org unless it’s real clear the individual is fucking awful (see: kesler)#i just. would like to see jack have his moment please. i know it is absolutely good enough that he is healthy & playing well#but we all know players want and expect more for themselves. i want eichs to get his moment. i want eichs to get to be indisputably right.#tbh i’m exporting some personal shit on it. i want eichs to get the clear unequivocal vindication that i am not sure i’ll ever get#as i’ve noted on my pinned post i’m going through a lot and it’s been escalating and escalating for like 2 years now. since the pandemic#and i just. every day i have to confront that shit sucks and i will likely never get an apology or anyone admitting i was right or anything#if i’m lucky i will get out of this chunk of time with more coping tools and less unresolved trauma and maybe a lawsuit settlement which#i don’t personally believe in financial litigation for trauma but it is the only system we fucking having in this hell capitalist ‘democrac#i am just. exhausted. and disappointed. and angry. and sad. and exhausted again. and holding it together with will & gritted teeth#the most i can wish for is that the process of ~all this~ pans out sooner than later. it could be resolved in the next couple months#or it could take a literal nother year. at most 2.#and i’m not just holding it together for me. i’m holding it together for fucking everyone.#bc i get to process and reprocess all of this at least 3 times. once for me. once to translate for my parents. once to explain to my sibs.#it’s not anything i can pass off to anyone else. but it’s also fucking impossible feeling like a single linchpin keeping this entire shakin#train together. i reiterate i am so exhausted. even when i can delegate some things i still have to go back to make sure it gets done#bc everyone is so used to me just fucking doing everything that they forget they were supposed to take a task for me#anyway anyway so yeah. i am outsourcing my emotions to some hockey and i would like a win please#i would like something i can point to and say ‘see? that worked. i can do that.’#i know it will be ok eventually. but i am asking for a sign. i am asking for a beacon. please
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sneaky Link V (M)
[series masterlist]
[Pairing]: Fem! Reader x Choi Yeonjun ft. second male lead Juyeon.
[Synopsis]: The story picks up after having met Yeonjun through a mutual acquaintance. You quickly bonded over your similarities and basically fell for him on the spot. As your relationship progressed you found out that you weren’t the only woman in his life, but no matter how hard you tried, leaving him was harder than you thought.
[Idol Cameos]: Aespa’s Karina, The Boyz’s Juyeon, Ateez’s Wooyoung, special guest: Odi.
[Genre]: Angst. (No smut this time)
[Word count]: 11.3k
[Warning]: Mentions of loss of appetite, toxic relationships, heartbreak, broken families, and drug use
[Disclaimer]: If anyone ever treats you like this, run. I am in no shape or form trying to romanticize this behavior or imply that Yeonjun is like this nor am I shipping him with other idols or assuming anyones sexuality. Please remember that it’s fiction. LISTEN TO THE SNEAKY LINK PLAYLIST HERE ❗️
“JUYEON PLEASE, WAIT!” you were running after him, completely out of breath once you were able to catch up. You held on to the edge of his sleeve for leverage, trying to regulate your breathing as he finally stopped in his tracks to turn around and look at you.
The look in his eyes was one you hadn’t seen before. He was past being disappointed and sad because he was livid. His eyes holding a gaze so dark and venomous that it made you let go of him to take a step back.
You’d be buried 6 feet under if looks could kill, that’s for sure. “I-I couldn’t find the right moment to tell you, I didn’t know how to bring it up I’m so sorry.” You had tears in your eyes by now, everything about this was fucked up. And you weren’t ready to face Yeonjun again either after that whole shitshow back at the club.
Juyeon didn’t seem to be fazed by the look in your eyes as he kept staring at you angrily. He furrowed his brows, scoffing at your comment. “So? Does that mean you were just being friendly this whole time? You should have drawn a line between us, but you didn’t. Hell, you asked me to stay this afternoon,” he hisses.
“…I…I never implied that it was anything more than friendly conversation. You were the one saying you wanted to be friends and take things slow?” You try to defend yourself, and even though you might be right; saying this to him in a situation as dire as the one you were in right now is the most toxic thing you could’ve said.
You basically told him you gave him zero reasons to think that your behavior towards him was romantically implied…but you both knew that was a lie. You just didn’t know what other card to play in order to keep him in your life.
“So, it’s my fault. That’s what you’re saying?”
“No.” you sigh. “I just…I realized I could have handled it better but I…” you pause, trying to find the words to explain why you were so afraid to tell him as he stared into your soul with a dark gaze. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
His facial expression remained unchanged, except he took a step closer to you in response, looking down at your insecure and breakable state. “If I’m not the one you want then why care about what I think?”
“Juyeon…”
“No, please. Enlighten me,” he says cocking an eyebrow at you.
You groan in defeat; he’s going to make you say it and you had no reason to lie to him anymore. You knew, he knew. But it hadn’t been put into words yet.
“You...you offer stability I’ve never had. I know you’d never intentionally hurt me no matter how bad things get because you’ve been here for me. It’s…it’s hard to let go of when I’ve never had that.”
His stiff and angry demeanor suddenly softened, as exhaustion washed over him.
“Then let me treat you right. I’ll help you get over that asshole by being everything he can never be. He’s a fucking mess. He has abandonment issues, a crazy ex-girlfriend, he doesn’t come from any type of great family. Let’s face it sweetheart, if you stay with him, you’ll end up just like him.”
You stare at him in disbelief, unable to wrap your head around his words. Juyeon, the one guy you thought that didn’t have a vicious bone in his body had been silently observing and was using every fact he ever checked against you in the moment.
He wasn’t lying but hearing him burn Yeonjun at the stake like that angered you for some reason. It’s not like Yeonjun chose to have mommy issues. He has been making the biggest effort to treat you right lately. It seemed unfair, just like what you told Yeonjun before you ran out on him.
“Because he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treated me.”
Your own words ring through your head painfully so. Shit. Shit. Shit.
You fucked up.
You fucked up bad.
You ran out on Yeonjun but now that you’ve caught up with Juyeon you suddenly feel like punching him in the face for using Yeonjun’s troubles and traumas against him in an attempt to win you over.
It’s like you didn’t know what side to pick. When you were with Yeonjun all you could think about is Juyeon, but now that you’re with Juyeon all you can think about is Yeonjun and the absolute shock on his features when you embarrassed him in front of dozens of people.
It’s like you don’t know who to be mad at anymore. You, them, the universe? It was all too much to handle and to be really honest the best option now was to just run and never look back, though that wasn’t an option cause shit like that only happened in the movies.
Juyeon noticed your drop in energy and watched you battle your thoughts as you stared at your own feet. It was way too cold out in this autumn breeze and you stiffen as chills run down your spine.
Juyeon sighed, taking a step closer to then place his hands on each side of your face. He dominantly made you look up at him, tightening his hold on you by lacing his fingers through your hair. “You don’t love me like you love him. And that’s okay.”
You gulp at his words, bashfully trying to avoid eye contact because you couldn’t take more confrontation. He moved in front of your line of sight again, getting even closer so you couldn’t possibly look any other way. He had you trapped, and somehow you didn’t feel threatened because you knew he’d never try to hurt you. As his breath fanned your face you look up at him with teary eyes.
You might as well be naked right now because you were feeling vulnerable as fuck. And somehow you knew this was goodbye.
“But when he leaves you like I know he will, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces y/n. You’re worth it because just so you know...it was love at first sight for me.”
Juyeon's reason for giving you chance after chance was because of that sole reason. He felt like he could save you from yourself by offering a piece of himself. Taking the step to be vulnerable with someone was a big one in his book, which made it even harder to let go of you. He just couldn’t help the way he felt, even if the world told him you were no good for him he was always going to take his own advice.
A single tear escapes your eye, and he is quick to wipe it away with his thumb. His gaze falls to your lips but except for the shaky exhale you let out you don’t stop him from inching his face closer to yours, and that’s when it happened. Again.
His firm yet soft lips peck your own ever so slightly before he deepens the kiss. One of his hands travelled down your body to grab your waist as the other stays tangled in your hair as he slowly yet feverishly starts to devour you at his own, passionately slow pace.
It’s like time stopped on the boulevard. The cold breeze that bothered you so much earlier was nowhere to be found as heat rose to your cheeks. Your heart thumping in your chest wildly as you were locked under Juyeon’s spell. He was the first to pull away, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against yours but all you could do was stare at him wide-eyed.
What did you just do…?
Even if it was just a kiss, even if it was a brief moment of weakness. It was still incredibly wrong.
He slowly opened his eyes and seeing the shock written across your features he knew enough. This kiss didn’t change anything for you. Not as much as it changed things for him because he came to realize just how much he still cared, and just how much he still wanted you if that wasn’t clear enough by now. The good times he had with you outweighed the bad, and that kiss only reminded him of the good times you did have together.
His words and actions have always stayed the same. He’s always had an odd loyalty towards you and maybe that constant confirmation tricked you into thinking that you cared for him just as deeply as he cared for you.
Briefly, just very briefly as you looked at Juyeon you suddenly understood why Yeonjun fucked around with you behind Karina’s back for as long as he did. It must have felt the exact same way to him, and then it hit you like a fucking brick wall. You turned into Yeonjun. Because right now you were the cheater, not him.
The difference in this situation however is that you couldn’t call your feelings for Juyeon love, it was comfort. A safety net at the bottomless pit that were your feelings for Yeonjun. If Yeonjun would push you off a cliff, Juyeon would be there to catch you. And as fucked up as it sounds, it’s what made you keep him around.
Juyeon was your Karina and just because of that sole fact, you knew that this is where you draw the line.
“I-” you stutter, unable to finish your sentence because nothing was making sense to you in the moment. You had some soul searching to do, but if you were sure about anything it was that you were not going down the same road twice. No matter how badly you wanted Juyeon close for comfort, you weren’t going to switch from being the other woman to having a second man when you of all people knew how much that hurts, for everyone involved.
“I can’t.” your voice cracks, and so does Juyeon’s heart. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
He nods understandingly, a small yet sad smile on his face. “I know,” he says, trying to comfort you by wiping your tears but it was of no use. They kept falling and falling, one after the other. He knew he wasn’t your first choice ever since he found out about your relationship with Yeonjun, and no matter how badly he wanted to move on from you, he was probably going to wait until you come back to him, because he was sure you would.
He could fix you. He could make you happy and live happily ever after with you and he was sure of it, but the timing wasn’t right.
“Please just…forget about me. Please.” You beg of him with heavy breaths, yet he simply shook his head with the same sad, yet soft smile tugging at his lips.
“Never.”
Karina held out her hand for Yeonjun as they locked eyes. Yeonjun’s fists unclenched in an instance, looking from her hand to her eyes while he let out a shaky exhale.
Soobin and Mirae held their breaths, waiting to see how Yeonjun would respond to Karina’s gesture but to both of their surprise, he brushed past her, bumping his shoulder into hers as he walked out of the club with big strides and a wounded yet blank mind.
Soobin looked at Mirae with shock written across his features to match Karina’s at his rejection, but they couldn’t be bothered with sticking around to watch her take the L as they basically sprinted after Yeonjun.
“Hyung!” Soobin yelled while they ran after him. He was able to catch up with his long legs, but Mirae was having trouble keeping up with them on her high heels, putting her hands on her knees to catch her breath. “I’m gonna look for y/n!” She yelled after Soobin, knowing that Yeonjun would have enough support from Soobin alone accompanied by the fact that she had no idea where you went or how you were doing right now.
Soobin looked back, giving Mirae a simple nod followed by a quick phone gesture to his ear to signal her to call him once damage control had been done. In no time he caught up with Yeonjun, yanking him back by his shoulder rather roughly to get him to talk. “Hyung, where are you going?” Soobin asks with his eyes on full alarm. Yeonjun slowly turned around. He was biting his lip and seemed scarily calm as they made eye contact. “Home.” He replied without emotion.
“Hyung…I-”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Yeonjun interrupts him, warning Soobin to stop asking questions.
They fiercely looked into each other’s eyes for a second as they stood on the pavement of a busy intersection. The city was bursting with nightlife, but all the sounds of oncoming traffic, the chatter of people, and music coming from random places were muted out as tension built in their heads.
Soobin angrily pursed his lips together, furrowing his eyebrows as he grabbed Yeonjun by his hand to keep him from walking away again while also holding out his free hand to hail a taxi at the same time. He hated how stubborn and closed off his best friend was. Even though he’d literally die for him, he wanted to kill him right now.
“You wanted to go home, then let’s go home.” Soobin huffs as a taxi pulled up next to them. He opened the door, basically shoving Yeonjun inside the back seat before getting in himself.
Yeonjun glared at him angrily but didn’t say anything as Soobin communicated with the taxi driver on where to go.
Meanwhile, Mirae was about to give up looking for you. You weren’t answering your phone and her feet were killing her at this point. She plopped herself down on a random wooden bench on the busy boulevard and groaned, rubbing her ankles to relieve the tension in her feet. When she looked up her eyes widen in surprise as she saw you, alone, on the bench right across from her.
Mirae’s gasped, immediately getting up to clumsily stumble over to you just to see that you were crying. “Y/n…” Mirae was careful not to startle you in the process of approaching you but once you locked eyes with her you started sobbing even harder.
Mirae wrapped you into the comfort of her arms, letting you bury your face in her neck as you cried your heart's content out. “...It’s ok sweetie, it’s ok.” Mirae tried to comfort you to her best ability even though she was still buzzed from all the pre-drinking, as were you. All of your emotions were heightened as the alcohol pumped through your veins. “I’m the worst person on the planet.” You wail. “I hurt t-them b-both.”
Mirae bit her lip, rubbing your back with comforting up and down motions as you started to ramble. “He went with her, didn’t he?” you ask, detaching yourself from Mirae to look her in the eye.
“…Yeonjun left,” Mirae explains, wiping your tears away with her thumbs. “He left alone.”
You swallow harshly, unable to wrap your mind around this new info. “H-he what? But Karina…she-” you stop yourself before you say too much, however, Mirae had already sobered up enough to the point where she could tell you were keeping something from her.
“Y/n…the truth. Now.” She warns you, grabbing your chin to make you look at her. “I saw your inner battle when Juyeon and Yeonjun were pulling on you from both sides, but when you saw Karina behind Yeonjun…you suddenly snapped at him and went after Juyeon. What’s her role in all of this? What the fuck is going on? And where the FUCK is Juyeon. Is he ok? Is he mad at you?”
Her questions were an extra whirlwind to your already messed up thought process but if anything was registering to you correctly, it was the fact that someone needed to know the truth about this whole situation immediately, so you started explaining, from start to finish.
It took a while for her to fully understand, she kept asking questions you didn’t have all the answers to, but you couldn’t blame her. She was absolutely overwhelmed with what your life had turned into, It was bad. Way worse than she could have ever imagined.
“...Y/n…you’re telling me that Karina has been weaponizing Yeonjun’s traumas…and you just loaded her gun for her?”
“Mirae. I’m scared of that bitch, and you should be too,” you mumble under your breath.
“It’s not funny y/n. He needs to know.” Mirae says staring into your soul, making sure you heard what she said. “You should’ve told him the minute she came to you.”
“Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve. I know that. I fucking know.” You groan, burying your face in your hands.
“No, I mean he needs to know now.” She says sternly. “If he falls back into toxicity with Karina, then that’s on you. I understand that he’s said and done a lot of questionable things but this thing with his mom is beyond that. He doesn’t deserve this type of pain. No one does.”
You nod at Mirae’s words. You knew that. You really did. But keeping this shit from him for as long as you did was going to come with consequences. By telling him you’d risk the fact that he’d never want to see your fucking face again, and that probability was only amplified by tonight events.
“I really thought that if I told him…that he’d never want to go to London to find his mom because he’d hate Karina forever.” You explain, making Mirae pout at your reasoning, making her shake her head at you.
‘You’re looking at this one-sided. It’s not just about his mom. It’s about Karina being a master manipulator and you just falling for it because you still feel guilty for stealing her man. If you love him like you say you do you wouldn’t want him to fall back into toxic comfort. He’d live a lie with her. For the rest of his fucking life.” She says raising her voice and waving her arms around to get her point across, and it was working because you were getting stares from bystanders.
You sigh, giving yourself a second to think.
“I didn’t tell him because I love him Mirae…who the fuck am I to keep him away from his mother. I want him to get answers, I want him to find her so he can close that chapter for good. Karina is the only one with information on his mom’s whereabouts. I really thought that if I gave her the opening to squirm back into his life tonight that it’d all be fixed. But he…he rejected her.” You think out loud as you stare into nothingness.
“You can’t predict how people will feel or act. You can’t draw conclusions based on your own emotions because you haven’t told him. And until you do, every possible outcome in your head is just that…a possibility. You don’t know his side of the story because you never gave him a chance to have one.”
You bite your lip. Knowing full well how right she is and that you’re going to have to face him sooner than later. The only card Karina has left to play is by outing herself. All Karina can do is hurt you by telling him about all of this first including the fact you’ve been lying to him too.
Which meant that you had to beat her to it.
“Here you guys are. What the fuck!” Wooyoung screeches as he runs to the two of you from a distance.
Both of your heads snap in his direction and when he sees you, he lifts your chin with his index finger. “Are you okay?”
It was a simple question, a yes or no would have sufficed but Wooyoung noticed how hard you were trying to keep it together. He sighed, kneeling down in front of you so he could pull you into a hug. He knew better than to bombard you with questions. No matter how playful, mean, and sarcastic Wooyoung can be, he was still one of your best friends. He’d do anything to protect you which was evident in the way he held you right now.
Mirae bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying with you. She put her hand on your back as she saw new tears fall from the corners of your eyes. Being in the know made seeing you break down for the nth’ time tonight so much heavier.
Your friends were hurting with you, doing their best to be there for you and suddenly you regret not telling them earlier more than ever.
If only they knew, maybe none of this would’ve happened. You really thought that fighting these battles on your own was the way to survive. But seeing how badly that played out for you, you took a mental note to never do that again, ever. Cause look where it got you.
“Tell me about everything later. Let’s get you two home first, Ok?” Wooyoung says as he let go of you, wiping your tears and run-out mascara stains with his thumbs similar to how Juyeon was trying to comfort you not long ago. Thinking of him made your stomach turn in regret, making you wonder how he’s doing and where he’s at right now.
You wish things were different, but they simply aren’t. The only way to somehow fix what you’ve broken is by picking up the pieces one by one and the only way to do this was to be honest with every single person in your life going forward. Starting with Yeonjun…even if he’d never look at you the same.
You take a deep breath, nodding as you straighten out your posture after wiping away your own tears away aggressively, “Ok.”
“Don’t you think you should talk to her?” Soobin says leaning against Yeonjun’s bedroom door. He was watching Yeonjun walk around his room while he was getting ready for bed. Soobin’s eyes landed on a random bra on the floor that he could only imagine to be yours as a mere remnant to just one night before, where everything between you two was harmonious and close to perfect.
Soobin quickly looked away, feeling like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to, and averted his attention back on Yeonjun’s figure.
“She made her choice,” Yeonjun says putting on a clean shirt as he looked at his tired self in the mirror.
“…I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“Look Soobin, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But I’m going to smoke a shit ton of weed, get some sleep and deal with the aftermath of this night tomorrow.” He stayed quiet for a second, as did Soobin. But Yeonjun found himself rambling soon enough. Unable to hide his thoughts and frustrations from his best friend. “The worst part about what y/n said, is that I can’t deny it and I don’t really want to think about that right now.”
“…You’ve been nothing but good to her lately. What she said was uncalled for. She can’t keep using your past against you in arguments because she decided to stay despite it all. You’ll never be able to move forward otherwise.” Soobin defends Yeonjun’s right to feel bitter absentmindedly as flashbacks from tonight blur his vision while he stares into the void. Yeonjun watched Soobin zone out, knowing that he was replaying tonight’s events in his had like a bad movie.
“I’d like to be alone.” Yeonjun sighs, giving Soobin a pleading look to leave him be. Even though Soobin’s worry was sweet, Yeonjun didn’t need yet another person to look at him like he was a beaten-up puppy. Even though he should be angry with you, he wasn’t, oddly enough. Yeonjun was just confused and hurt. Hurt that you didn’t pick him over Juyeon when your history with Juyeon doesn’t even come close to compare to what you guys have…or had.
Soobin bit his lip, contemplating on his next move but he decided to walk up to Yeonjun and give him a hug. It was the last thing Yeonjun expected, but as he felt the younger ones’ arms tighten around him, he relaxed, letting Soobin comfort him.
“I won’t ever leave you hyung,” Soobin whispers into the hug, making Yeonjun close his eyes at his unexpected words. It struck a nerve, and when Yeonjun fell asleep that night all he could think about was his mom. The bitter memories of waking up one day to an empty home as an eight-year-old replayed in his memory.
Little Yeonjun searching through every room of the house with a trembling lip and big scared eyes showed up in his dreams. He had this dream quite often and was fully aware of the fact that it was a dream, but he could never move or wake up. His body forced him to relive the worst day in his life in a state of paralysis.
Little Yeonjun eventually ran down the street to get help, but when he got to the porch of Karina’s house and rang the doorbell multiple times it wasn’t her who opened the door like it always was, because this time; it was you.
Yeonjun’s eyes shoot open as he starts to go into full hyperventilation mode. He was gulping for air, clutching onto his chest to calm himself down but nothing was working. He clumsily got up, accidentally knocking the lamp off of his nightstand which made glass shatter everywhere.
Soobin, who wasn’t able to sleep either heard something shatter from the other room and was immediately on his feet to run to Yeonjun’s bedroom.
The door flung open, and Soobin was met with the sight of Yeonjun having a full-fledged panic attack since he couldn’t make sense of his surroundings in the darkness. Yeonjun hovered over his bed and Soobin quickly turned on the light before he leaped over to Yeonjun to trap him in his arms from behind. “Hey! Hey! It’s me. Hyung it’s me. Calm down. It’s okay.” Soobin says in an attempt to snap Yeonjun back to reality, and it was working somehow. Soobin bit his lip, looking at the shattered glass on the floor with worry as he felt Yeonjun’s hold on his arms tighten. He quickly checked if Yeonjun was hurt or bleeding and to his relief; he wasn’t.
Yeonjun’s ears started ringing as he came back to his senses, his vision becoming less blurry as he held onto Soobin’s forearms. He followed Soobin’s regular breathing pattern and was able to regain his composure slowly, but he was still shaking, letting Soobin cradle him like a child as the little spoon when they laid back down on the bed.
Yeonjun closed his tired eyes again, allowing himself to fall back to sleep knowing that he wasn’t alone anymore.
It was 10 AM and you were literally shaking as Mirae held your hand. She offered to come with you to Yeonjun and Soobin’s shared apartment so she could occupy Soobin for the sake of giving both you and Yeonjun some privacy, but now that you were here at their front door, anxiety started eating you alive.
“I can’t do this.” You say under your breath.
“Yes, you can. Come on.” Mirae nudged your shoulder with her own to spur you on to ring the doorbell and without thinking any further, you did it.
The silence that followed was absolutely excruciating. Mirae grabbed your hand, squeezing it in an attempt to give you strength but when you heard the door unlock your heart started racing even more.
Soobin stood tall in the door opening, laying eyes on you first and then on Mirae. He looked tired, and you found yourself checking for hints of anger in his eyes, but he wasn’t upset with you.
He smacked his bunny-like lips together, fully opening the door so you could both walk in without a word but Mirae didn’t walk in when you did. Instead, she grabbed Soobin’s hand, and he instantly got what she meant.
Soobin quickly grabbed his keys, giving you one last look before leaving the apartment.
“…He’s in the kitchen.” He simply remarks and your mouth grows dry, knowing that there was just one more door between you and Yeonjun right now. “Text me,” Mirae says and you nod at her before Soobin and herself walk out, closing the door behind them.
You had shivers running down your spine as you stood glued to the floor in their hallway. You could hear him opening cabinets, turning on the stove, and grabbing a plate. It reminded you of all the times you woke up in his bed when he’d already been up to cook both of you some breakfast. However, this time you couldn’t just wrap your arms around him from behind and tease him with kisses as he smiled to himself.
This time you had no idea how he’d react upon seeing you again and that uncertainty only amplified your worries of facing him.
You needed a few more seconds to build up the confidence to go up to him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as you slowly twist the door handle to walk into their living room and kitchen area.
The hairs on your neck stood up straight when you saw him with his back facing you while he was cutting up some vegetables. You slowly approached in silence, biting your lip and nervously picking at your cuticles as you did so. He didn’t notice your presence yet, and soon you realize you had to call out his name to get his attention.
“…Yeonjun.”
Your voice was hoarse and barely audible, but he could distinguish that voice in a crowd of thousands. He froze, tightening the hold he had on the knife he was using out of shock.
You held your breath, waiting for him to turn around, but he didn’t.
He put the knife down, looking down at the floor with sadness as he leaned his palms on the counter. You don’t know where the confidence was coming from, but you decided to walk towards him. You were standing next to him right now, laying eyes on him for the first time since last night.
He had bags under his eyes that matched yours, and when you tried to reach for his hand he pulled away. He might as well have punched you in the face because it’d hurt just the same as this simple gesture of rejection.
“Can we talk…please.” You mumble, but when he didn’t respond again you felt yourself choke up. “Please,” you beg. Your voice cracked and it finally made him lay eyes on you.
The reason why he wasn’t looking at you wasn’t because he was angry. It was because he was scared. He was scared you’d look exactly the same as the you he saw in his nightmare. You boldly caress his cheek, tugging at his chin to make him look at you and when he did, he immediately relaxed, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as a sign of relief.
You didn’t notice his anxiety, you thought he was just mad at you, so you quickly took your hands off of him, clearing your throat. “Let’s sit down,” you suggest, and he simply nodded, turning off the stove to then follow you to the couch.
“I’m sorry for what I said last night. You didn’t deserve that.” You say avoiding eye contact as you stare at your fingers in your lap. You could feel his eyes burn into you, but he still wasn’t saying anything.
“I just...” you start, but you stop yourself to take a deep breath. Where the fuck do you even begin?
“Do you regret choosing to be with me over him?” Yeonjun spoke up for the first time since you walked in, and your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, looking at him in disbelief.
“No,” you say with determination. “No. I love you.”
Yeonjun’s shoulders fell, hearing you say those words to him again felt surreal. Especially since he thought he’d lost you to Juyeon.
“Then why…”
“In a way, what I said…was true…” you start knowing you weren’t really helping yourself here. It made Yeonjun nod to himself, so you were quick to start explaining some more. “I didn’t want to hurt Juyeon because he doesn’t deserve it. But I lead him on to believe that he still had a shot with me. Which was wrong”
Yeonjun completely ignored your previous statement, needing to know just one thing “Did you fuck around with him while we were official?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Yeonjun visibly relaxed at your honesty. The one thing that was ironically eating at him subconsciously was the probability of you cheating on him with Juyeon.
“Do you have feelings for him?”
This questioned flustered you more than it should have and Yeonjun noticed your hesitation before you answered. “I think I confused liking the way he treated me with having feelings for him, but no. I don’t think so…”
Lies.
“Then why didn’t you tell him we were dating?” he asked, ignoring your indecisive answer.
His question made you look up at him and seeing the insecurity in your eyes made him feel bad for you for some reason. He scooted closer to you, reaching out to hold your hand to encourage you to speak but what you had to tell him next was what was going to change your relationship forever.
“I selfishly wanted him close for comfort for when you left me.” You explain.
That was the last thing Yeonjun expected to hear. Shock overtook his features and he immediately grabbed your face to make you look at him. “Why would I leave you y/n?”
Tears started filling the brims of your eyes as you stared into his dilated pupils. “Because I lied to you,” you timidly admit.
Yeonjun was completely lost at this point, unable to understand what was happening or what had you so upset right now.
“…About what baby?” he pouted, caressing your cheek softly. His loving touches were too much right now. It was suffocating you to know you were going to rip his heart out with your next sentence.
He still looked at you with so much love and adoration, and that’s what hurt the most.
You took a deep breath and proceed to take his hands off your face, looking up to sniff your tears back so they wouldn’t fall.
“Yeonjun…Karina she…”
Yeonjun straightened out his posture in an instant at the mention of his ex’s name. He looked at you intensely, patiently waiting for you to continue.
“Karina knows where your mom is. She has known for years.”
Yeonjun froze, his hold on your hands loosening as your words registered. He suddenly looked very pale, and you were seriously concerned he was going to faint.
“W-what?”
“Yeonjun, I’m so sorry…” your voice came out like a whisper as you eyed his reaction, but he just looked down, his pupils darting back and forth at a complete loss for words.
You didn’t know what else to do other than to keep explaining so you carefully continued. “She told me the night she came to my apartment. She has known about if for years and hadn’t told you because she was afraid that you’d leave her to go look for your mother but when she realized she lost you…she…”
Yeonjun’s eyes shoot up as realization hits him. “…London,” he says interrupting you.
You nod, and all of the puzzle pieces started falling into place. The reason why you were so upset that night, the unexplainable letter from school, Karina’s attempt to lure him back multiple times. It all made sense. Karina was slowly using the knowledge she had about his mother to slither her way back into his life. She was going to pretend to be his savior when in reality she was his devil in disguise.
“…She told me that if I just backed off that you’d be able to get back together so you could travel to London with her and find your mom.”
Yeonjun got up, turning his back to you as he covered his mouth in pure disbelief.
This can’t be true. Karina would never hurt him like this. She’s the only one who witnessed first-hand what his mothers’ disappearance has done to him over all of these years. She’s the only one who could fully comprehend the pain he went through, so it was extremely hard to wrap his mind around what you were telling him. For years she pretended to not know a thing, even when they were still in a happy and healthy relationship before Yeonjun met you.
“I wanted to tell you. I swear, I just…I didn’t want you to choose me over her when she’s the one who you need in order to find your mom.”
Yeonjun was fine until you said that. His head snapped in your direction, anger creeping up his senses as he realized how long you’ve known about this. His breathing started to get ragged as he balled his fists, and somehow it scared you.
“That’s not your decision to make. You should have fucking told me the minute you found out.” He bites back, fire spitting from his gaze.
You wince at his words as he starts pacing back and forth. “I came running to you that night, you lied to me so easily and kept me next to you for all this time when you had no plans of staying with me!?”
He was raising his voice at you by now and you were just taking the verbal beating. It was the least you deserved, but his anger was getting scarier by the second. You wished Mirae was here, or Soobin. Just anyone really.
“I thought I was doing the right thing…” you softly explain, but when you hear him scoff to mock you, your eyes find his again.
“You’re no fucking better than her.” He says as he stares into your soul, making you gasp at his words.
“Yeonjun…” you got on your feet in a split second, trying to get him to calm down but he pushed your hand off of him when you tried to touch his arm.
“Leave,” he says through his teeth
“Yeonjun, please.” You beg with wide eyes. No. This can’t be how it ends.
This can’t be it.
“Fucking leave y/n!” he yells at you again this time, you knew better than to test his limits, but you weren’t going to give up so easily. “I don’t want to leave you.” You held your ground, but it didn’t impress him one bit.
He smiled like a fucking psychopath, walking towards you with his face just inches away from yours. “It was so fucking easy for you to leave last night, I’m sure you’ll find your way out.”
He brushed past you and slammed the door to his bedroom behind him, leaving you completely hollowed out and numb, glued to the living room floor as your breathing starts to grow irregular.
After a few agonizing seconds of silence, you drag your feet to his bedroom door with tears in your eyes. As you hovered your hand over the door handle, deep down inside you knew that there was no way that he’d listen to you right now.
You had to give him time. Every muscle in your body was trying to force you to stay but you fought against the urge to disturb him, knowing that he needed and wanted to be alone.
Yeonjun had his face buried in his hands as he sat on the edge of his bed. He wished to wake up from this nightmare. Hoping that his sleep paralysis from last night was still in full effect but when he heard the front door open and close, knowing that you had left, he broke down completely, letting the tears he’s held in for so long finally flow freely.
A few days had passed since that day and you still hadn’t heard anything from Yeonjun nor Karina.
You could barely eat or sleep. And when you did fall asleep it was usually past 6 or 7 AM which made you wake up at ungodly hours. You were in bed past 3 PM for the third day in a row, letting your depressive episode consume you as you were watching another season of your favorite comfort show to escape reality.
You absolutely hated yourself.
You missed Yeonjun. You missed his smile, the sound of his laugh, and the feeling of his touch. You craved for the taste of his lips and were desperately wondering how he was doing but you didn’t know how to talk to him anymore after what happened.
Your daydream got disturbed as you hear your doorbell ring, and it took everything in you to get out of your bed. Your neighbors asked you to accept a package on their behalf since they wouldn’t be home so you could only assume it to be the mailman at your door.
You drag your feet to your front door and open it with a blank facial expression but when you see who’s in front of you, you almost want to start crying. Something you’ve done too much of in the past couple of days.
“…Hey, can I come in?” Soobin says as he stares at you with pity. You swallow harshly, wanting to hug him for comfort but you decided against it, stepping aside so you could let him in.
You didn’t know how he found out where you lived, you could only assume it to be Mirae’s doing but you didn’t care. You were actually really happy to see him because Soobin was the only person you could ask about Yeonjun.
He stepped inside, looking around your neglected apartment. The last time you did the dishes was 3 days ago, and a vacuum hadn’t touched your floors in a while either.
He sighed, taking the stack of schoolbooks off of your couch and placed them on your salon table so he could sit down. You eyed him nervously, not knowing what to do or say. “C-can I get you anything? Water maybe?” you ask, but Soobin simply shook his head, patting the empty space next to him on your couch to get you to sit down, so you just complied without thought.
“I don’t think I have to ask you how you’re doing?” he starts, and you scoff in response.
“Please…tell me he’s doing ok.” You look at Soobin intently, hoping that he’d answer you with a smile, but he simply shook his head with pursed lips, and it made you swallow harshly as you avoided eye contact. You should’ve known better.
“Mirae told me, and hyung also told me bits and pieces of what happened. But y/n, please. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Even if you kept the truth from him, it doesn’t compare to what Karina has done. You could’ve made better decisions, sure. But the choices you made were out of love for him. And I’m sure he’ll realize that with time.”
You let his words register, raking your hands through your hair with a loud sigh “I just want him to be okay.”
Soobin pouts at your words, petting your hair and making his hand stop at your back in an attempt to console you. “He’s going to talk to Karina’s parents today.”
You lift your head, looking at Soobin in shock at this new information. “What?”
“He’s going to confront them about it. I offered to come with him, but he told me no, so I came to check on you instead.”
You nod, giving him a faint smile to thank him. You could only hope for that meeting to go well, but it’s not like you could ask him about it either.
“Oh, and before I forget.” He grabs his phone, clearing his throat to read his messages out loud.
“Mirae told me to tell you that…uhm...” he stopped for a second but continued anyway. “Bitch pick up your fucking phone when I call you. Wooyoung and I are worried sick. If you don’t respond we’ll kick your door in.” he recites mimicking Mirae’s mannerisms in an attempt to make you laugh and it worked because you chuckled with an amused glint in your eyes.
Soobin smirked to himself upon seeing you smile as well and simply put his and on your knee.
“Give him some time, he’ll come around. I know for a fact that he still loves you y/n. Don’t worry about him too much okay? He’s a fighter. He’s been through worse than this.”
You nod at his words. You know he’ll be okay somehow, but it’s incredibly hard to believe that he still loves you.
Yeonjun stood outside of the massive double doors of the house that Karina used to call home before she moved out for college. He wasn’t as nervous as he thought he’d be. After all, the people that live here have been more of a family to him than his own. The door opened briefly after he rang the doorbell, and he was met with the bright smile of Karina’s mother.
“Yeonjun! Wow, it’s been so long. How have you been?” She wrapped him in for a tight hug which made him chuckle and relax in her hold. Karina and Yeonjun have broken up for quite some time now but it doesn’t seem like her parents know about it.
“I uh…I’ve been busy but I’m doing alright,” Yeonjun answers as he follows her mother into the house. They stop at the living room where her father was seated in his regular large chair, reading the newspaper as he sipped on some expensive aged whiskey.
“Yeonjun! Son. How are you?” he excitedly exclaims as he got up to greet him with a hug.
“I’m ok. It’s nice to see you again.” Yeonjun smiled at him fondly.
“Sit down Jun-ah, I’ll get you some tea.” Her mother tells him as she pushes him down on the couch. He nodded, awkwardly scratching his head to then place his hands on his thighs.
“What brings you here? And where is Karina?” Her dad asked with concern.
Yeonjun raised his eyebrows, also straightening out his posture to look more invested in the conversation.
“I needed to talk to you both about something…without her.”
At that, her mother returned with a pot of freshly brewed green tea and the cookies he loved as a child. He smiled at her warmly as she poured him a cup. Quickly thanking her before taking a small sip to then put the cup down on the massive coffee table in front of him.
Karina’s mom sat next to her husband right across from Yeonjun and waited for Yeonjun to speak up, but she noticed his nerves. “I uh…” he began but was quickly interrupted by Karina’s father.
“You know you don’t have to ask; you have our permission.” He hummed with humor in his tone but when he saw Yeonjun’s facial expression harden he stopped smiling.
“I…I’m not marrying Karina.”
“Oh, we know that. You guys are still in college, there’s no rush.” Her mother chimes in trying to lighten the mood but Yeonjun shook his head.
“I’m not going to marry her after college either…w-we broke up some time ago.”
This revelation had both of their mouths fall agape. This was the last thing they expected to hear, especially since their daughter lied to their faces so easily every time they asked her about Yeonjun’s whereabouts.
Breaking up with Karina wasn’t just breaking up with her. It was breaking up with her whole family that he had grown so incredibly fond of. Even though he had done the unforgivable prior to her, he would never get back to her after everything she’s done.
“W-what happened?” Her mom asks in utter disbelief, getting up to sit next to Yeonjun. She grabbed his hands and looked at him with concern.
“We grew apart and we both made some unforgivable mistakes.”
He decided to spare them the details, but he was here for more than just saying goodbye.
“…Karina has kept my mothers’ whereabouts from me, and I recently found out about it.”
He eyed their reaction, but they seemed to be just as startled as him when he first found out.
“She what!?” her mother exclaimed.
“Honey calm down.” Her father says softly. “I don’t understand. A while back she came to us for help. She told us you didn’t want any contact with your mom after we found her location. We were trying to be mindful of your wishes and never mentioned it again, but she suddenly mentioned something about the two of you going to London to find her so of course, we tried to help in any way we could.” He rationalizes.
Yeonjun’s eyes widened at her fathers’ words. He tried not to, but he felt himself getting angry again.
“Yeonjun…I don’t know what to say I’m so sorry.” Her mother caressed his back, but then her father stood up from his chair, unexpectedly walking out of the room.
It stayed quiet for a while as they sat there. Karina’s mother was suppressing her anger towards her daughter and suddenly, her father emerged out of nowhere with a thick binder.
He set it down in front of Yeonjun and sat back down on his chair. “This is everything we know about your mother. She’s good at staying off the grid but the last thing we found out is that she teaches arts at a high school in Central London.”
Yeonjun looked at the binder with glassy eyes. She really has a whole new life without him, and it hurt more than he thought it would have.
Why didn’t she just take him with her? What made her leave the country? He wanted answers. And he wanted them now because nothing else was keeping him here.
“Yeonjun. You can still go without Karina if you want.” Her mother offered, and it made Yeonjun look at her in surprise.
“Yes. It’s the least we can do.” Her father agreed. “We’ll fund the whole thing, don’t even think about the money. If you still want to go, you will have our full support.” He says walking over to Yeonjun, sitting beside him just like his wife.
Yeonjun bit the inside of his cheek. Suddenly his brain was showing images of you. He sighed, rubbing his temples to release the tension that was building in his head.
“I…I don’t know,” He said lost in thought. “What if she doesn’t want to be found.”
“…Yeonjun, even so. She owes you an explanation. You’re a grown man now and living with an unanswered question of this size will haunt you forever.” Karina’s mother states, moving a stray piece of his hair behind his ear lovingly.
Her motherly gesture made him unknowingly lean into her touch, which made her look at him with a sad glint in her eyes.
“I don’t want to push you to make a decision right away. But the new semester in London starts in about two weeks. If you decide to go, you’d have to leave by next week to get settled.” Her father explained to his best ability, hoping that he wasn’t overwhelming Yeonjun by telling him all of these things at once.
It’s a big choice to make with too little time, but Yeonjun deep down knew he had to go. Soobin would understand his decision. He was sure of it.
“I also hope you know that no matter what your relationship with Karina is, you’ll always have a home with us. We love you like family Yeonjun. That won’t change, I promise you.”
Her mother says warmly, putting her hand back on his back for comfort. How could a girl that came from a family this loving turn out to be so cunning and damaged as Karina was? It made no sense to him.
Yeonjun sighed, looking at both of Karina’s parents one by one to remember their faces.
“Okay, I’ll go,” he says.
Soobin was in extreme pout mode all day as he helped Yeonjun pack his necessities, though he was trying not to be too much of a Debby downer for Yeonjun’s sake. For the first time in a while, Yeonjun seemed okay. He was smiling again and seemed genuinely excited to leave for London tomorrow.
If the reason for his study abroad wasn’t as loaded with angst, Soobin would’ve been more excited for Yeonjun, but he was mostly worried. Especially since Yeonjun hadn’t talked to you or told you about any of this, which meant that Soobin was worried for you too.
“Did you study some British slang before you’re going? You’re going to have to fit in somehow.” Soobin says as he plops himself down on Yeonjun’s bed.
“All I need to know is the word peng.” Yeonjun says smiling to himself with mischief as he folded one of his shirts to put into his suitcase.
“What’s that?” Soobin asks with a snicker.
“It’s like, hot, or attractive.” Yeonjun casually explained, giving Soobin a flirty wink.
Well shit, Yeonjun was already expanding his vocabulary to live like a single man in Central London, and Soobin doesn’t know why but it bothered him. Yeonjun hadn’t made an effort to see or speak to you yet, and even though It’s his right to avoid you, he wished Yeonjun wouldn’t run from his feelings anymore.
He’s been down that road before, and it led to the messiest breakup in history.
This whole study abroad thing was timed perfectly for Yeonjun. Leaving in the middle of a crisis was a convenient perk and having to see your face would only make leaving so much harder.
“So…did you tell y/n?” Soobin tried carefully, but when Yeonjun’s movements froze he knew he fucked up.
“No.” he stoically replied.
“I went to see her a week ago.” Soobin tried again, but this time he had Yeonjun’s full attention.
“What? Why? And why didn’t you tell me?” He asks with wide eyes
“Dude you had too much going on with getting everything ready for the exchange, and you just got back from Karina’s parents’ house that day, I didn’t want to burden you with it.”
“So, you decided to do it now? While I’m packing?”
“…. Uhm…yeah…sorry.” Soobin pouts.
Yeonjun bit his lip, curiosity getting the better of him. He had been living on automatic pilot for the past week, shutting down his emotions in order to forget about you but it wasn’t working. All he could think about was you. Literally.
“How was she?” Yeonjun asks under his breath, which made Soobin sit up straight, surprised by the fact that he wanted to know.
“A fucking mess. Just like you. She’s handling it differently. She looked depressed, she lost weight. She wasn’t taking care of herself or her surroundings. It was really sad to see actually. Mirae says she’s doing better now and going to school again, but she also said that y/n is a master at hiding her emotions. Just like you.” Soobin explains, rolling his eyes at the last part.
Yeonjun sighed, looking at the box next to his bedroom door with all of your stuff in it. He was going to ask Soobin to deliver it to you but maybe he had to drop it off himself.
“…You know she never intended to hurt you,” Soobin says in your defense once again, and it made Yeonjun groan in annoyance. It was already hard for him to leave, so why was his best friend making it even harder.
“Why are you so hell-bent on saving my relationship? I’m leaving. End of story.”
“I know that. But wouldn’t it be nice to talk to her before you left? I’ve grown to care for her since she was here all the time, and hyung…you were so happy with her. I just…I really think you should talk to her before you leave. For both of your sakes.” Soobin states with determination, hoping that for once in his life, Yeonjun will listen to him.
He sighed, folding up the last article of clothing to put in his suitcase. “I know,” Yeonjun says, staring at the box with your stuff one more time. “I’ll go see her tonight.”
You and Wooyoung were on your couch, doing Korean facemasks as you watched a murder mystery drama with boxes of Chinese take-out on your laps.
Mirae and Wooyoung had been babysitting you during the weekends, and today it was Woo’s turn. They were hoping you wouldn’t notice how they filled your free days with plans to occupy your mind, but no matter how slick they thought they were being, you noticed their efforts to keep you distracted from the first night they tried to do so.
You didn’t complain or confront them about it because, to be honest, it was nice having them around because it worked. They were distracting you, and even though Yeonjun still occupied every corner of your mind, living started to become bearable again.
“How long till we take these off?” Wooyoung asks, patting his skin gently to get the kinks out of his mask.
“Ten more minutes.” You say with your mouth full, chewing on the way too salty black bean noodles. You were finally getting your appetite back, which meant you were eating anything and everything in sight.
“I’m impatient.” Wooyoung pouts, which made you chuckle at him. “I know, but if you wanna age prettily you’re going to have to keep it on for ten more minutes.” You say waving your chopsticks in his face. He playfully glared at you and kept eye contact while trying to take a bite of his food, but it went terribly wrong as the noodle sticks to the outer layer of his facemask.
You cackle in response, the sound of your laughter filling the room which made Wooyoung stare at you fondly. He was happy to see you were doing better day by day, but when you saw the sentiment on his features you warned him.
“Don’t…ask me how I’m doing…” you tell him. Making Woo nod in response to your pleading tone.
At that, your doorbell rang unexpectedly. Saving you from having to talk about your feelings.
The sound made Wooyoung immediately get up to answer the door for you.
“Did you order more food?” He asks insinuatingly, but you shook your head no and looked back at him from your couch to see what was going on.
Wooyoung looked through the peeping hole of your door and froze. “What the f-”
He looked back at you in bewilderment and you immediately got up. “What?” you ask wide-eyed. After all of these murder-mystery episodes, Wooyoung’s tone and body language were scaring you.
“It’s…It’s Yeonjun.” Wooyoung whisper-screams.
Your mind went blank, as did your facial expression because you had no idea what to do.
“Oh my god. What? Why is he here?” you whisper with wide eyes to match Wooyoung’s.
“Bitch I don’t know!? Open the door!”
“Ok, ok, but go into my room,” you hiss
“What? No.” Wooyoung says in protest. If it was going to be juicy, messy, or both. He wanted to stick around to find out.
“Quick! Just go into my room you nosey asshole.” You say as you push him inside of your bedroom. Closing the door on a pouty, crossed armed Wooyoung, but you couldn’t care less.
He was going to eavesdrop anyway.
You straightened out your clothes, making a quick twirl to check your surroundings, and took a deep yet uncontrolled breath before you opened the door.
Yeonjun was almost going to knock but when you opened the door and locked eyes, he looked at you with equally dilated pupils, though he was staring at you for a different reason.
“Uhm…hey…you…you have a little something on your face.” He says pointing to your facemask and you almost want to evaporate on the spot. You quickly rip the thing off, throwing it on your counter before you stepped aside to let him in.
Embarrassment flushed to your ears and he couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile that you immediately noticed. If he’s smiling he’s not mad…right?
“W-what are you doing here?” you ask with insecurity evident on your features.
He sighed, staring at you for the first time in a while. He had hoped that seeing you would make leaving easier, but it had the opposite effect. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms right now, even after everything.
"I came to talk to you about something. If that’s alright with you.” He says snapping out of it once you tilted your head in confusion at his silence.
“Y-yes, of course. Let’s sit down.”
He put the box of your stuff that he was holding down on your dinner table, but you were too entranced by him standing in front of you right now to notice. You were staring at him like you were seeing a ghost, and he couldn’t blame you. This must all be just as confusing to you as it is to him.
He proceeded to follow you to your couch. The simple piece of furniture held so many memories. You talked, laughed, cried, and fucked on this thing more than once, and it was incredibly hard not to think about those moments as he sat down with you, with a little more distance than usual.
You looked at him with expectation but Yeonjun didn’t know where to start. “I uhm…” he swallowed harshly, looking at you from head to toe. Soobin wasn’t kidding when he said you lost weight, and suddenly his stomach turned in regret. “I’m sorry for the way I yelled at you. I realize now that you were trying to protect me, even if your choices might not have been the best ones, I know you didn’t have malicious intent…not like Karina. And I’m sorry for comparing her to you. I was out of line.”
You had no idea where his apology was coming from, so you just stared at him with your mouth agape, unable to wrap your mind around his words. “Don’t apologize, please. You did nothing wrong. I’m the one that should be apologizing. Yeonjun I’m so, so sorry. I-” You stop your rambling as your eyes land on the box of your stuff.
Silence filled the room as realization hit. He wasn’t here to mend your relationship. He was here to close a chapter by being the bigger person.
He was saying goodbye.
Yeonjun smiled at you softly as your eyes darted from the box to his face. He had scooted closer to you to put his hand on your cheek, carefully caressing your soft skin as he stared into your eyes.
“I’m leaving for London tomorrow, alone.” He added the latter part to make you understand that Karina wasn’t coming. But your mouth grew dry at the sudden turn of events.
“I wanted to see you one more time before I left.” He says as he sees the brims of your eyes fill with tears. “…I need to do this. I’m sorry for telling you this late, I just…didn’t know how. And with everything that happened I just…”
“No,” your voice cracked. “I completely understand, you didn’t have to tell me in person but I’m glad you did.” Your lip started trembling, which made him lean in to kiss your forehead with his eyes closed, wrapping his arms around your fragile figure to hold you close one more time.
You were trying your hardest not to fully break down, but you literally had no more tears left to cry. You were exhausted, mentally and physically. And if he had to leave to come back to you as a better and more mature version of himself then so be it, because you had to grow the fuck up and do the exact same thing yourself as well.
Maybe this was for the best, but you didn’t realize that yet as you clung onto him, soft sobs escaping your lips which broke his heart. “Yeonjun I-”
He stopped you from talking by pulling back to kiss you on your lips. His fingers tangled into your hair and you immediately gave in once his lips made contact with yours. He kissed you with fervor as both of your hearts started to beat faster and faster. You held onto his wrists for leverage as the kiss continued but before things could get too heated, he found the strength to pull away.
“Don’t tell me you love me, because I’ll stay.” He whispers with his forehead pressed against yours.
“But I do…I still do, nothing changed” you choke out, you weren’t trying to get him to stay, but you needed him to know how you felt before he left.
He bitterly smiled to himself and that’s when you noticed that he was crying too. You sit up in shock, wiping his tears away with your thumbs but he grabbed a hold of your wrist, kissing the inside of your palm before he let go of you completely.
“I’ll miss you.” He says before getting up reluctantly.
“Yeonjun no, don’t leave like this. Please.” You manage to get out between sobs. You followed him to your front door with big strides, stopping once he turned around to look at you once more, but he wishes he hadn’t.
You looked absolutely broken. Yeonjun wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in his embrace, whisper sweet nothings to you until you had calmed down, and cradle you until you fell asleep in his arms, but he knew he could do none of that right now.
He bit his lip, pulling you towards him one more time to softly peck your lips again.
You closed your eyes in defeat, standing frozen on your feet with tears streaming down your face, and when you heard your front door open and close your legs give out.
You open your eyes to see that he was gone, and that’s when the pain from the past week came to the surface in waves that were too unbearable to handle.
Wooyoung was with you in no time, wrapping you up in his arms on your apartment floor as you wept like a baby. Your sobs turned to pained wales as reality came crashing down.
No Yeonjun
No Juyeon.
Just you having to deal with the aftermath of your own mistakes. Alone.
Chapter VI: The Finale
#yeonjun scenarios#yeonjun imagines#yeonjun smut#yeonjun angst#juyeon scenarios#juyeon imagines#juyeon smut#juyeon angst#choi yeonjun#yeonjun#juyeon#lee juyeon#txt imagines#txt smut#txt angst#txt fluff#txt x reader#yeonjun x reader#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kpop fanfic#kpop au#kpop angst#tomorrow x together scenarios#tomorrow x together imagines#tomorrow x together smut#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#the boyz smut#the boyz x reader
440 notes
·
View notes
Text
Calling Home (5) | Frankie Morales x Reader
Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues…
Rating: E (18+ only)
Warnings: age gap (legal), dilf!frankie, praise kink, voice kink, size kink, low self esteem, discussion of addiction/ptsd/trauma/triggers, divorce drama, no use of y/n, no beta reader, DDLG🎀, unprotected piv sex, oral m and oral f, hickies galore👅, mild BDSM (cuffs⛓, choking).
Masterlist here
AN: Whatta ride... but all things come to an end🥺. i'm blown away by the support for this fic. Thank you all 💕.
Chapter Five
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frankie had his own mental list of stuff he needed to do before you would arrive. He dunged out his closet to make room for your clothes. It was long overdue. He had a lot of things he didn’t wear anymore that needed to go. He went out and bought some more plates and silverware since his two plates and Rosie’s plastic plates would not do. He no longer looked around his home with a sense of loneliness, now he pictured all the places you could fit in. He could see you reading by the window in the living room so he bought a comfy new chair to put there. He noticed your small plant collection in your apartment and thought you’d maybe like a bigger one in the back yard so he bought a planter box.
He was reading your novel, titled Our Little Kingdom, while your candle burned. You didn't give it to him at first. While you were in the bathroom and Frankie washed your dishes, he noticed a stack of papers poking out in the trash. It was your manuscript. When you came back and saw him reading it you tried to take it back but Frankie insisted and you caved. It was good. Frankie wasn't just saying that because he loved you. He could see how great writers had influenced you and still it was uniquely your voice. The story, too, was compelling. He couldn't help but imagine you as the protagonist as she was just as sweet and clever.
You were making good progress on your list. You had put in your two weeks notice and started to applying to jobs in Miami. You enjoyed working with veterans so you hoped you could do something similar again. As two weeks went by you were disappointed you still hadn't heard back from job interviews. Packing was a little more difficult. You didn’t know what was worth taking and what was worth leaving. You knew Frankie had most everything already so it was a matter of picking your most special things. The rest you were slowing taking to Goodwill in batches.
You had completely forgotten you sent your book in to publishers until a flurry of emails came in on the same day.
Frankie woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing. He sat up pulling the phone towards him. It was you. Why would you be calling so late? Maybe something was wrong?
“Frankie?” You sounded congested. He heard a sniffle. Frankie furrowed his brow at that.
“Hey. Is everything all right?”
“ They-they-“ you could barely get it out “they rejected me.”
“Who?”
“All of them. All of the book agencies.” You threw yourself onto your bed, hot tears running down your face.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry, sweet pea.” Frankie didn’t know whether to be sad or angry. He thought your book was amazing. He sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp. “They’re idiots. Every one of them.”
“They’re experts, Frankie.” You felt more tears leak from your eyes. “Maybe I’m just not a good writer. Maybe-Maybe-" You hiccuped and low cry slipped from your mouth. You covered your mouth, taking in raking breaths. It was agony to admit this to him when he believed in you most. You felt like you had let him down. Frankie's heart literally ached in his chest as he listened to your quiet weeping over the phone. He waited for you to continue, feeling his own eyes grow misty.
“Don’t disappear on me, little pea. Let me hear that voice of yours.”
You were unable to speak. Scared of what may come out. You felt like your walls were closing in around you and mocking you. How did you ever think you could be a writer like all your favorite authors? You were so stupid, you thought.
“I let you down.” You said shakily.
“No no no, little pea.” Frankie said quickly. “You could never let me down. I don’t need to a book agent to tell me you’re a good writer. I know you’re writing is beautiful and perfect. Just like you.”
His praise caused another wave of tears from you.
“Daddy…” You bawled.
“I hear you, baby.” Frankie heard his own voice shake with emotion. He never hated the distance more than he did in this moment. He needed to wrap you up in his arms. “Close your eyes, sweet pea. Use that big imagination of yours. Pretend I’m there with you.”
“Imagination isn’t good enough, daddy.” You blubbered, fat tears slipping from your eyes.
“I know, baby.” Frankie’s heart was breaking. “But try for me okay?”
You clamped your eyes shut and tried to focus in on his breathing on the other end of the phone. Frankie did the same, closing his eyes.
“Good, sweet pea. Focus on daddy.” He wished he was there to comfort you, wrap you up in his arms and shield you from the cruel cruel world. “I’m next to you. I’m holding you so tight.”
“Hold me tighter!” You begged holding your pillow pet to your chest.
“Okay. I just did.” Frankie whispered closing his eyes as if it would be more real. “Feel that?”
“Yeah…” A moment went by as you steadied your breathing. Tears eventually stopped falling, drying against your cheeks. Frankie’s steady breathing anchored you.
“I loved your book. It was really really good. And fuck it, I’ll publish it myself.” Frankie couldn't help but raise his voice.
“Silly.” You sniffled.
“I’m serious, sweet pea. Who needs those stuck up assholes.”
“Hmm yeah, you’re right.” You agreed, voice softening with sleepiness. You pushed your face into your pillow. You could still smell Frankie if you really focused. "I miss you, Frankie."
"I miss you, too."
"I still haven't heard from any jobs. And- maybe I'm just not good enough and-" You felt more tears fill your eyes.
"Shhh shhh" Frankie interrupted "Listen to me. You are the best. The right thing will turn up i'm sure of it."
"But it's the only thing left on the list!"
"I know..." Frankie pulled over your copy of the list that you wrote for him. He had crossed things off as you reported to him. "Let's see if they get back to you tomorrow." Maybe he was being too hard on you, making you get a job first. He only wanted to put it on there to give you some independence over the move. He didn't want you to feel like you had nothing to do once you got here.
Frankie waited until your breathing evened out. He called your name quietly. When he got no response he assumed you fell asleep. He didn’t want to hang up. He missed you so fucking much and he felt helpless.
When he woke up the next morning, he said goodbye to Rosalia as usual, called in sick, and started driving north. Fuck the list. You were coming home with him now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Of course Frankie called you telling you he was on his way. You felt bad for making him miss work but your excitement overpowered any guilt. You set a timer for 14 hours and started packing with new energy. Your eyes were still puffy from your tears last night. But you repeated what Frankie said like a mantra. Who needs those stuck up assholes. There were tons of ways to self publish nowadays. It didn’t have to be through a publishing house.
When you ran out of things to clean up and pack, you watched out the window waiting to see Frankie’s blue pick up. You had changed into sleep shorts and a t shirt. While you had a plan to dress more sexy you ended up accidentally packing that surprise in one of the boxes earlier today. It was getting dark when Frankie finally pulled up. He looked exhausted but still… Frankie. He was wearing his favorite hat and grey t shirt. You ran down to the street to meet him. He’s pulling empty boxes from the bed of the truck when he sees you sprinting towards him.
“Sweet pea!” He smiled as you launched yourself into his arms. “Oof.” You buried you face in his shirt inhaling his scent. He rubbed your back affectionately enjoying having you back in his arms. “Aw… it’s okay. It’s okay now.” He murmured when he heard you sniffle. He oddly felt his chest swell with pride at how much you missed him. He never had to worry about how you felt about him. He peeled your head off him by stroking your head. You looked up at him with a watery smile. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”
You snickered at his dad phases. “I’m ready. Well… I still have some stuff I need to pack up. Too heavy.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Frankie kissed you chastely. You pulled him in for more though, fisting his shirt in your hands. “Mmm no no. Work first. Play later.” Frankie pulled back. You pouted but have to agree with his logic. The faster you packed the faster you could leave.
Back in your apartment Frankie got to work taking apart your bed and dresser. You finished packing your clothes and dusting.
“Hey what’s this? It was under the bed.” Frankie walked over holding a gift bag with pink tissue paper sticking up.
“Oh…” You quickly grabbed it away. “That’s supposed to be a surprise. For Rosie.”
“You got her a present?” Frankie was touched by your thoughtfulness.
“Yeah I mean… I figured it might make her like me more.”
“She already likes you, but she can never have too many toys.” Frankie stepped further into your space. You realize at that moment how sweaty he was from moving all the furniture. It was so late at night and you were both exhausted but the sudden rush of his thicker smell made you feel wide awake. “Can I see what you got her?”
You handed the package back over, watching him gingerly move the tissue paper to the side. His eyes softened when he saw the pink unicorn pillow pet sitting in the bag. A mini version of yours.
“Am I too presumptuous making us matching? I don’t know if she likes unicorns and-" Frankie cut you off, dropping the bag and kissing you up against the wall. He wasn't even sure what part of that turned him on, just your sweetness and wanting to be a part of his family. He held your face in his hands, his grip forcing your mouth open. You felt yourself start to grow wet. You loved when he just went caveman on you. Sometimes he didn’t have the words to express how much he loved you so he reverted to touch; to deep kisses and deep thrusts. His hands trailed down your exposed legs so he could lift you up on his hips. You held onto his shoulders as he swung you around. The bed was gone, the couch was gone.
"Fuck. Hang on."
You laughed as he ran you out to the kitchen to set you down on the counter. You pawed at his pants trying to undo his belt, but Frankie was faster, unhooking your bra from under your shirt and then pulling your shirt over your head. He took your hand and placed it over his large bulge between his legs.
“Feel what you do to me…” He gritted through his teeth his chest rising and falling sharply.
“Frankie- oh my god-please let me” You pulled he belt loose. At first he stops you. “I didn’t get to last time. Please?” He bit his lip considering your plea. He really just wanted to give and give and give to you. But he had been mean last time, not letting you touch his cock. So this time he doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his pants and pull him out of his boxers. You licked your lips as his cock fell into your hand, curving up towards you.
You hopped off the counter, getting onto your knees before him. “Take off your shirt… please?” He obliged. You kissed down his belly feeling it tighten against your lips. He watched you with fire in his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. You pushed the rest of his pants and boxers down. You stroked him slowly with both hands.
“You have to tell me what you like…” You held his cock and licked a long stripe from the base to the head making him moan weakly. You repeat the motion adding a few kitten licks at the end, lapping up the stray drops of salty precum. Frankie was struggling to think let alone speak. He gripped the countertop above you, his other hand going to the back of your head.
“Just- go slow.” You followed his instructions, slowly taking his length in your mouth. “Good-good girl.” He clenched his jaw staring down at the sight. Your hot mouth felt like heaven and your innocent eyes staring up at him was just the cherry on top. You took his dick as far as you could before you choked lightly. You were by no means an expert at giving blowjobs but you were frustrated you couldn't go further. Your jaw was already aching from his girth.
“Mm don’t hurt yourself, baby.” He hissed unable to hold his hips still, he jerked a little against you making you whine. “Come back up, remember to breathe.”
You slowly pulled off his cock before going down again. Frankie’s hand on your head gently guided you so you didn’t hurt your throat. You added suction, applying pressure on the underside of his cock. You started to find what he liked based on his sounds. You still couldn’t take him all the way in your mouth, tears gathered in corner of your eyes from the effort. Your hand pumped the rest that wouldn’t fit.
“Oh fuck.” Frankie gasped his hips jerking again making his cock slide back into your mouth. You moved one of your hands to his hips looking up at him to say it was okay. “Are you-you want me to fuck your mouth, sweet pea?” You nodded eagerly. You put one of you hands on his length where he wouldn’t fit. He gathered up some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly thrust into your mouth. Like he always did, he waited for you to nod and give him the okay. When you did, he couldn’t help the growl that left his throat. Drool leaked from your mouth onto your chest as he sped up using your head more forcefully. You were sure you had soaked through your panties. It turned you on so much to see him take control, use you for his pleasure, but still his grip on you was firm and gentle. Every grunt went straight to your pussy. “Such a good girl letting me use this hole, too.” He rasped. “You’re crying around my cock.”
“Mmhm” You hummed around his dick making him groan. He was close. He was battering the back of your throat. You could recognize the furrowed brow and the tightening of his balls. You intensified your ministrations.
“Good girl, good-I’m gonna cum in your little mouth.” He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. “Stick out your tongue, sweet pea.” He ordered. You obeyed, watching greedily as he fisted himself harshly the tip of his cock hitting your tongue. You placed your hands on either side of his tummy, anticipating his load. His chest was flush and his eyes were fluttering shut. When he came he yanked your head up harshly as cum splashed onto your tongue. You loved this perspective, watching his face contort with pleasure. You tried to take every drop but some dripped down your chin. “Swallow.” Frankie ordered roughly still maintaining his grip on your head. You swallowed, his warm cum sliding down your throat.
“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled up at him, wiping some of the stray cum off your chin. He let go of your hair, now stroking your head then your jaw. “Did I do well?”
“So good.” He chuckled and helped you stand, his breath still ragged. You squirmed pressing your thighs together. The move not missed by Frankie. “Did sucking my cock make you wet, sweet pea?”
You nodded shyly before saying “It’s okay though. You don’t have to-it’s late and we have a long drive tomorrow.”
“You’re always looking out for me but what kind of man would I be if I left you all needy. But you have to ask for it, sweet pea.”
“I kinda just want your mouth if that’s okay?” You asked feeling too tired for a full round of sex.
“Of course.” Frankie smiled. “Your mattress is still in the bedroom.” He led you in and helped settle you on the center of the mattress. He pulled your shorts and underwear off, staring at your slick reddened pussy. "You soaked your little panties, sweet pea. Did you touch your little flower while I was gone?" Frankie asked, pulling apart your legs.
"I-I tried to. But it wasn't the same."
"How come, little pea?" His patronizing tone had your cunt clenching. He was teasing you.
"It wasn't your fingers. I needed you." You huffed, trying to push his head down onto you.
"Mmm poor thing." Frankie chuckled, the rich sound giving you goosebumps. He felt his cock start to harden again despite you just sucked the soul out of him moments ago. He slowly licked up your slit moaning at the taste of you. Your head tipped back as he he slowly inserted a finger into you. "Eyes on me." He instructed. You forced your head back down so you could make eye contact. "Play with your tits for me." You obeyed, squeezing the flesh in your hand. He returned to his task, taking your clit in between his lips, quickly escalating your climax. Your hands never stood a chance. He inserted a second finger, curling it against you. They were so thick and long it hit that spot deep inside you it made you gush.
"Oh my god. Daddy-I'm-" You teetered on the precipice your breath caught in your throat. Your entire body erupted in flames as your mouth open in a silent scream. Frankie's eyes widened as your pussy strangled his fingers before fluttering uncontrollably. Your cum dripped onto his hand, he quickly replaced his fingers with his tongue trying to catch it all.
"That's it." He felt you finally take a shaking inhale. "Breathe, sweet pea. Breathe." Exhaustion hit you hard as every muscle relaxed.
"I'm sleepy..." You slurred.
"It's okay. You can go to sleep." Frankie leaned up kissing you, smearing your slick all over your mouth. He returned to licking your pussy less aggressively though. "I got you."
You nodded before drifting off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning you dump the last of your stuff at goodwill, packed the truck, turned in your key, and hit the road. You were bouncing in your seat with excitement. You hadn’t ever traveled south of DC. The landscape was beautiful. You and Frankie took turns driving, belting Fleetwood Mac on repeat. You forced Frankie to take obligatory selfies to remember the journey at rest stops or whenever the view was worthy. Over halfway to Miami you paused at a rest stop for a quick nap. Frankie was anxious to get you home and he didn’t want to stay put for too long. He was used to long drives and quick naps, but you weren’t. He didn’t want to exhaust you because there was so much he wanted to show you when you arrived. You laid across the backseat of the truck with your head in Frankie’s lap as the sun was going down.
In the early morning Frankie finished the drive. His own excitement increased when he was back in the city. You had your head nearly sticking out of the window looking at everything. You couldn’t believe how sunny and warm it was here. Frankie turned down a residential street. “Almost there.” He said. You buzzed in your seat.
Frankie made one last turn into a driveway. You instantly got warm feelings looking at the house. It was painted seagull grey with white trim. It was wonderfully symmetrical with two windows on the first and second floor with window boxes outside the first floor window. The front yard was nicely mowed.
“Your house is so cute!” You hopped out of the car, your legs enjoying the chance to stretch. The air smelled slightly salty being so close to the beach. The sun felt wonderful on your skin. You could have laid down in the grass and just fallen asleep.
Frankie showed you around his house with your hand in his, pointing out random things of importance in his giddy state. You followed him around with bright adoring eyes. Despite looking forward to this moment for a while, you barely looked at anything except for him. You could care less about where the tile for the fireplace came from. You didn’t remember Frankie’s story about how Will messed up his back moving in Frankie’s couch in because it was hitting you over and over again that you were home with Frankie. You didn’t pay attention to the story behind Rosie’s crib because Frankie was here with you. His warm hand holding you close like you may disappear. He was here with that damn cute excited voice as he showed you around his home, soon to be your home.
“Sweet pea? Earth to sweet pea?”
“Hmmm?” You smiled apologetically. Standing in the kitchen, the sun pouring in from the window above the sink bathed Frankie in golden light making him look ethereal.
“I said- we should start moving boxes in before it gets dark.”
“You haven’t shown me everything yet.” You realized.
“What did I miss?”
“Your room…” You swung your entwined hands back and forth.
“Our room, sweet pea.”
“So I won’t be sleeping on the floor?” You laughed.
“Never.” He kissed you briefly. “I just haven’t cleaned up in there and I need to make some space for your stuff and-“
“Frankie.” You quiet his rambling with another kiss. You couldn’t stop kissing him. “Your house is immaculate. That’s the room I want to see.”
He swallowed harshly before he led you up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to his room. While showing you the garden and the other rooms he was giddy but now he seemed more flustered. When you opened the door you could see why. Your candle was sitting on his bedside table. It was the first thing you saw when you walked in.
You immediately break away from him, going to inspect his bedside table. Glimpses of Frankie that made you love him all the more. Your candle, your books, your list, his sergeant pin, and an old alarm clock.
“Was this what you’re so embarrassed about?” You asked picking up the candle. It was almost used up. He averted his gaze. The back of his neck bright red which you recognized as a sign of his nervousness. “Frankie…” You set it down and took both his hands in yours. You couldn’t even convey what it meant to you. He had missed you that much that he burned your candle.
“I have the real thing now.” He said pulling you against his chest, dragging his nose over your cheek in reverence. You hummed in contentment. “This is our room, sweet pea. Our home.” He whispered.
“Our bed.” You added moving his hands to rest on your ass, wrapping your own around his neck.
“Eager girl.” He tutted, kissing just below your ear, squeezing your ass lightly.
“I can’t help it. I’ve waited so long, Frankie.” You tilt your head up resting your forehead against his.
“You’ll never have to wait again, princesa pea. I’m here.”
“Then I want you now.” You tugged him towards the bed. Falling down onto his comforter you were hit by a puff of his scent. Laundry detergent, old spice, and that indescribable musk that was Frankie. You barely got a chance to enjoy it before Frankie is falling on top of you. You laughed as he pulled you up the bed until you’re against the pillows. He's about to rip your clothes from you but-
“Wait wait- I have a gift for you.” His eyes lit up.
“Frankie…” You smiled “You didn’t have to get me anything.” He pushed away from you, walking over to his dresser. He pulled out a small package.
“Here.” He handed it to you.
You sat up. You felt guilty you didn’t get him a gift. You slowly peeled back the tape trying to save the paper. It was wrapped so nicely.
“Come on, rip it up. It’s just paper.”
“No… I wanna save it.” You argued, pulling it open finally. You stared down at the contents in your lap. It was a book with a pink cover and loopy writing. Our Little Kingdom. “Frankie… this is- this is my book.” You felt your eyes swim with tears.
“I know.” Frankie knelt in front of you. “I read it and it was so good. I wanted to get it bound. I was serious when I said want to publish it. I want to make it happen. But if you don’t want to at least we can enjoy it how it’s meant to be enjoyed.”
You flipped through the pages smelling the fresh paper. You reached the end and noticed Frankie had slipped in something as a book mark. It was a torn half of a check. “This is…”
“The check I tore up. I use it as a bookmark so I thought you would-“
You launched yourself at Frankie, a habit you learned from him when words were just simply not enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you woke up, you were surrounded by Frankie’s scent, warm sun hitting your face. Frankie wasn't there. You heard movement downstairs. You threw on the first shirt of Frankie's you could find. You practically skipped down the stairs, heart leaping when you saw Frankie in his PJ pants and nothing else sitting at the kitchen table. His body was lit up in the morning sun, he looked like a goddamn dream. He was shoveling some cereal into his mouth but he stopped when he noticed you. He still looked so sexy to you in this moment, his strong arms and big hand gripping the small spoon. His chest littered with small hickies you made. You blinked a couple of times wanting to imprint this image into your brain forever.
“What are you doing up so early?”
“The sun woke me up!”
“Shit. I would have made you some breakfast or something.”
“That’s okay.” You smiled going to stand in front of him. You kissed him, licking some of the milk from his lips. Your hands rested on his bare golden shoulders. You loved how wide they were and how solid and warm they felt.
“Mmm is this mine, sweet pea?” He tugged at the Fleetwood Mac shirt hanging down to your thighs.
“No, it’s another boys.” You teased.
“Don’t joke about that, little pea.” Frankie warned with a small swipe to your ass.
“I’m sorry, daddy.” You giggled. “I was only joking. No one else has cool shirts like you.”
“You want some cereal? I can also make eggs or pancakes or-“
“I want-” You slipped your hand over his pants. You could feel his slightly hard cock sitting below. “This.”
“You already had some last night and you still want more?” Frankie groaned his thighs spreading further around you. “I thought you’d be sore, sweet pea.”
“I am.” You admitted kissing him quickly. “but I still want you.”
“Mmm…” Frankie pulled your hand away watching you pout. “I think you need to eat something first.”
“No I don’t!”
“Come on, I’ll let you sit on your special seat.” He tapped his thigh. You debated this. You decided to do what he asked, not wanting to test your luck so early in the day. You hopped up on his lap wiggling back until his semi hard cock was pressed against your back. Your thighs sitting over his legs, your pussy peaking out from his shirt. Frankie rested his big hands on your bare thighs rubbing the skin back and forth. You closed your eyes enjoying his touch. You could feel his breath against your neck as he looked down at the sight.
“Do I look good on my special seat, daddy?” You asked looking up at him.
“Perfect, my little pea.” Frankie smiled. He pulled the cereal over and you popped a bite in your mouth. You didn’t normally like cereal but since Frankie asked…
“Okay, done. I’ve eaten.”
“Woah I hardly call that eating.” Frankie shook his head. He placed a hand on your stomach, fingers splayed out over the entire width almost. He applied a little pressure which had you squirming again. God his hands were so big and warm just above where you needed him. “I can feel little rumblings telling me you’re hungry, sweet pea.” You rock against him more intentionally making him catch his breath.
“Not for cereal.” You bit your lip.
“One more bite, sweet pea. For daddy?” He rubbed his beard into your neck which never failed to make you to laugh.
You took another spoonful of the soggy cereal before looking up at him for approval. He chuckled as you chewed quickly. You looked so cute with your cheeks full. It made cock ache.
“Good job, sweet pea.” He smirked when you swallowed it all. He lowered his hand down to cup your pussy which was already dripping. You hand flew to his thick forearm.
You melted against him as he rubs your clit slowly. Last night was hurried and desperate but now it was like he had all the time in the world. You listened to him take large inhale against your neck, smelling you.
“You look so beautiful, sweet pea. In my shirt. In our kitchen.”
“Fuck…” You moaned. His fingers felt so wonderful and thick against you. You fucking loved the sound of that. Ours.
“I’m gonna fuck you on our table.”
He lifted you up with ease, pushing your back down on the table. The sun coming through the window bathed your body in soft light. You looked divine. Frankie had your legs spread wide, tongue on that pussy before you could even blink. “Holy shit. Daddy!” Your hands clenched into fists at your side.
“Sweet pea.” Frankie pulled off, lips wetted by your slick. You blushed under his hot gaze. “Why don’t you pull my hair?”
You whimpered as he took your little fist and put it in his beautiful locks. “I want to but… the last person I was with didn’t like it.” You turned your head to the side trying to hide your embarrassment. His hair felt like silk in your hands.
“Hey-“ Frankie gently grabbed your chin and turned you to look at him. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He was leaning over you, invading all your senses, but of course the aspect that hit you hardest was his voice. Soft and reassuring. That rich baritone that made you fall in love in the first place. “Pull my hair, baby, I wanna know how well I treat this pussy. You won’t hurt me.”
You nodded feeling your eyes wet with tears. His affection never ceased to shock you. He kissed you, softening your worried look with each stroke of his tongue. When you were relaxed, he returned to your pussy. He was a fast learner for the times, applying the pressure you needed with his tongue while hitting that spot inside your walls with his fingers. Your hands were laced in his soft hair tugging almost unconsciously.
“Fuck-Daddy" You gasped feeling your breath. Your stomach tightened but you still felt like you weren't quite to your breaking point. "I can't- I need- I need-"
"What, sweet pea, what do you need?" Frankie paused, looking at you struggle above him. You grabbed his hand which was holding your hip and moved it to your throat. "Holy shit." Frankie's eyes widened.
"I need you to push me over-" you struggled to think of how to explain it but Frankie started applying light pressure over your throat making your cunt tighten around his fingers. The strain on your airway finally brought you to the edge. He returned to your clit and didn’t let up even as your walls clamped and gushed around his fingers. Didn’t stop as your back arched off the table, your toes curled, and your hands pulled his hair almost painfully. He let go of your throat when you tapped his wrist and your breath returned ragged and sharp, extending your orgasm. You brushed some of Frankie’s hair from his forehead and he looked up, making eye contact, as his lips suckled on your clit lightly. You didn’t say anything for a moment, feeling your body come down from that peak, basking in Frankie’s loving gaze between your legs. You felt boneless.
“I love you.” You murmured. Frankie surged up, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. He pulled back and kissed the happy tears falling from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.
“I love you, too. I’m never letting you go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m home.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, needing to feel that promise inside you. Needing his promise filling you up.
“Are you sure you’re not too sore?”
“I’m sure.” You ran your hand through his hair, now addicted to the feeling of it.
Frankie slowly eased himself into your pussy. It was harder without lube. You winced a little once he was fully inside. Fuck he was so big.
"Am I hurting you?" Frankie felt bad and started to pull out.
"No please." You arched your back trying to hold him inside. "I'm okay. I want- I want-."
"Sweet pea..." He bit his lip as he struggled to resist thrusting into you.
"And if I can't walk- then you can carry me." You wiggled your hips. Frankie couldn't help but laugh at that not that he minded carrying you around. "Please, daddy." You asked one last time as you dug your heels into his lower back. Frankie placed his hands on your waist and started fucking into you slowly, withdrawing almost all the way out before thrusting back in again.
“I’m so proud of you… taking my cock like a good girl.” He kissed you softly, moving to kiss a train down your neck to your nipples and back up. "You're home now." You nodded in agreement. "This is our little kingdom, sweet pea.” Your shallow breaths slowly transformed into moans. You felt your muscles relax a little and signaled he could start moving faster.
Needless to say the cereal on the table shook and spilled as he fucked you. Spilled milk on your table. His cum spilled inside you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frankie enjoyed hosting so much since Rosie’s birthday he wanted to have a Fourth of July barbecue. With your help he took the decorations to the next level. Hanging fairy lights over the patio, and renting a bouncy castle for the kids. In an act of irrational niceness, you had said it was okay if Laura came by, that way Rosalia would be there too.
Frankie was clear he had no desire to hide you. He wanted to show you off. Still, you dreaded meeting Frankie's ex. Rosalia had warmed to you quickly even preferring you to hold her. You already loved her so much. Today she wanted you to follow her everywhere and watch her play. Frankie was stuck behind the grill but he still could watch his girls playing. You were wearing a lovely red sundress which Frankie was looking forward to stripping off. It brushed your thighs in the breeze and it was perfect height for Rosalia to tug on when she wanted to be picked up.
“You’ve done a great job with the decor.” Laura appeared at Frankie’s side.
“Thanks.” Frankie smiled tightly. Her surprised tone confirmed that she always underestimated him.
“You’ve been happier lately.” Laura studied Frankie.
“I guess.” Frankie shrugged turning one of the hot dogs for something to do.
“It just has me remembering the old days. Before everything with you happened.” Frankie prickled at that last statement. Everything with you. She always put it on him totally forgetting how she also made things worse.
“Frankie?” You appeared at his other side, eyeing Laura warily and doing little to hide your dislike. You had seen from yards away how Frankie tensed up, looking down. You wouldn’t let that slide so you went over. Finally removing your glare from his ex wife you look up at him, laying a reassuring hand over his forearm. “Uh- people are getting hungry. How soon until it’s done?”
“It’s ready now.” Frankie smiled down at you, instantly feeling more at ease. His answer let you know he was okay.
“Great I’ll wrangle everyone.” You smiled before darting back to the crowd.
“Who is that?” Laura frowned. “Someone's babysitter?”
“No.” Frankie shut off the grill facing his ex wife face to face. “She’s my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Laura sounded skeptical. “She’s 12.”
“She’s a woman.” Frankie corrected her. “A woman I love very much.” He wasn’t going to listen to anyone look down on you.
“You should have talked to me before you brought her around Rosie.” Laura huffed, putting a hand on her hip.
“You had no problem parading your boyfriends around during our divorce.” Frankie shot back quickly looking to make sure they couldn’t be heard. “It’s in the court records so I doubt you want to bring it up.”
“Frankie…” Laura seemed to regret what she said.
“Let’s just… move on.” Frankie said as people started to draw near.
“Papa!” He heard Rosie squeal, toddling towards him.
“Rosie!” He picked her up, his anger instantly melting away. “Ready for your hot dog?”
As Frankie and the others started filling up their plates Laura crept closer to you as you were cleaning up some of the kid’s mess by the pool.
“Excuse me. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Laura.” She extended her hand. She was taller than you. Her face was tight as if she was holding in her sneer.
“Hi.” You decided to be nice, shaking the woman’s hand. You introduced yourself.
“So… you and Frankie. “
“Yes.”
“How long has that been going on?”
“A few months.” You said keeping it vague.
“And it’s going well?”
“Yes.” You grew annoyed by her vague questioning. Obviously it was going well since you were here. Her eyes were the total opposite of Frankie's. Hard and cold and icy blue. You quietly thanked god that Rosalia had inherited Frankie's eyes.
“Hmm he’s not doing that crazy thing anymore?”
“What thing?” You frowned.
“Well one time while we were together he stayed up the whole night because he thought some criminal or something was after us.” Laura laughed cruelly. You wanted to slap her for her lack of sympathy. What was funny about Frankie’s fear? “The psychiatrist said there would be delusions but that was just too much.”
“I think I’ve heard enough.” You snipped, trying to keep at least a polite facade. There were people just a few feet away. You prayed the couldn’t hear.
“Hey I’m sorry.” She schooled her features. “Don’t think I’m cruel. It wasn’t easy being with someone like that. I’m trying to look out for you.”
“Thanks for that. I think I'm good though.” You finished picking up the last pool toy and walked away before Laura could say more. You wanted to turn back and say something mean but you were determined to be the bigger person. You didn’t want to start drama that would hurt Frankie and Rosalia. You spent a good minute in the garage after putting the toys back, positively fuming.
“Sweet pea?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts, joining you in the garage. “Aren’t you hungry?”
"I was just cleaning up.” You said though your hands were empty.
“I saw Laura talking to you.” He watched you warily. Fear lapped at him. What did Laura tell you...“Everything okay?”
“She just… a bitch.” You huffed. Your word choice made Frankie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I know you married her but how? She’s awful and rude and judgmental.”
“I know.” Frankie quieted his laughter, pulling you into his chest. “It wasn’t meant to last.”
“Because she’s a bitch.” You grumbled into his chest making Frankie laugh again. His tummy bounced against yours with his laughter. You loved it. You thought again about what Laura said. How cruel she had been in the face of Frankie’s PTSD. “If she says one more rude thing I may have to smack her.”
“You’re hot when you’re possessive, you know that?” Frankie smiled tickling your sides. “Come on, we should get back before our guests start to notice.”
“Alright.” You agreed, taking his hand and following him out of the garage. You felt Laura’s eyes on you two when you came back to the yard. Frankie got your burger set up for you before doing his. It’s the simple things that got you going; how giving he is. You tried to hide your blush from the onlookers as Frankie asked you ketchup or mustard.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once everyone went home you and Frankie laid out a blanket in the back so you could watch the fireworks happening on the beach a mile away. He was quiet, at least more than he usually is. You didn’t know what to say to reassure him so again you reverted to touch. You placed your hand on his thigh reassuringly.
“Frankie?” You turned to him. “Do you want to talk about anything?”
“No.” He seemed taken aback by your question.
“Okay.” You moved closer to him until you were tucked into his side.
“You mean about Laura.” Frankie said after a moment. “Just- she didn’t say anything to you to make you upset right? She doesn’t get under my skin anymore. I don’t want her to get under yours.”
“She didn’t get under my skin.” You replied. She said nothing to make you insecure, just make you angry at her is all. “I’m just protective of you, you know. It seems like she was awful to you.”
“It’s fine.” Frankie shrugged.
“No.” You moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. “It’s not. You came back from your deployment probably in need of some comfort and all she gave you was judgment."
“She told you about that night.” Frankie hung his head in humiliation. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t want to upset him but part of you knew he should talk about this. Laura shouldn’t be the only one who holds this memory over his head. “It was my first night back. I just- I swore I heard gunfire. I was freaking out. I was probably acting really scary. I thought they came for me and she-Laura called the cops on me.”
“How could she…” You teared up on behalf of Frankie.
“I ran.” He continued, his voice thick. “I stayed a Will’s and calmed down. That was the end of the marriage.” He rubbed up and down your thighs under your dress. It always comforted him. You tried to think of what to say. His wife, the person who was supposed to love him the most, ostracized him and criminalized him.
Frankie was anticipating you to be afraid of him or push him away, but to his surprised you pulled him into a hug, holding his head against your neck like he was a child. He felt a sob rise in his throat and tears wet his eyes. You were so... kind. It was something he was still learning to accept and realize he deserved .
“You’re right.” You took a breath to relax yourself. “It doesn’t matter what she says. You’re mine now. Not hers.” You kissed Frankie on his nose then kissed his mouth.
“Always, sweet pea.” He rubbed his thumb over the area of your brow that furrowed in residual anger.
“I just wish there were some way…” you chewed your lip. “I have these-“ you pulled his dog tags out from where they hung between your breasts. “Reminds me I’m yours.”
“Maybe I need a necklace too.” Frankie smiled squeezing your thighs. That got you thinking…
“Can I try something?” You asked. Frankie nodded looking amused. You tugged at his shirt pulling it over his head. You never got over how broad he was. His toned arms were flexed holding himself up. You leaned forward planting a wet kiss on Frankie’s neck where it met his shoulder.
“Mmm gonna mark me up?”
You nodded and sucked harder till you were satisfied it would leave a mark. Pulling back you admired the red blooming where your mouth had been. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it did but you loved that he had a physical mark from you. He had scars here and there from cross fire and stab wounds. Some he wouldn’t go into detail. You loved them all but for once you wanted him to have a mark born out of love.
“I’m gonna give you a necklace, daddy.” You murmured tracing the path you would forge, down and around to the other side of his neck. You were gonna make hicks all around his neck like a chain. You leaned back down and planted another mark below and slightly to the right.
“Holy shit.” Frankie groaned, tilting his head back. He felt his cock start to harden under your attention. You slowly made your way across his hot skin until you had seven little wet hickies starting to show through the skin. You traced them with your finger, connecting the dots.
Frankie looked down, watching in fascination. His dog tags were a bittersweet thing, symbolizing his commitment to the military, but you wanted them. You wore them proudly, giving him more closure than 100 hours of therapy. But this... this new chain on his skin represented his belonging to you. “Beautiful, baby girl. Thank you.” He kissed you sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You pulled away before he could deepen it. You start to lean down again like you were going to plant another hickie on him. He pushed you back and rolled the both of you over.
“Daddy! I wasn’t done yet.” You wiggled against the soft blanket.
“No it’s daddy’s turn now.” He pushed the straps of your dress down your arms, tugging your neckline down.
“But I already have a necklace.” You felt Frankie’s dog tags lying in your cleavage.
“Now you’ll have two. I spoil my girl like that.” Frankie teased. He kissed up and down your neck before settling on his starting place. When he started sucking it sent a lightning bolt straight to your clit. You gasped. You could feel him hard against your thigh, not fully yet. You rocked your hips impatiently, clutching his head against you.
“Be patient, baby.” He warned, pausing his work. You stilled your hips with a pout. “Good girl.” He resumed. You wanted to be naughty but you knew you’d never win that fight. Problem was you were loving his attention on your neck so much you couldn’t help but start grinding against his leg again. Your hand reached down and tried to stroke his hardening cock. Frankie pulled back, his lips swollen from giving you hickies. He was only halfway around your chest now.
“You’re being naughty…” Frankie chided, lightly slapping your hand away from him. You continued squirming under his gaze though you at least look apologetic. Frankie pulled away. “You don’t want your necklace?” Frankie pretended to be hurt.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You turned on the puppy dog eyes. “Just- your mouth feels so good.”
“If you’re not gonna behave I’m gonna have to make you behave.” Frankie’s mouth curled into a smirk. Your stomach flipped around in excitement. “Sit back up on your knees.” He ordered. You eagerly sat up on your knees, placing your hands on your thighs. Your dress hung around your waist. Frankie stood up and started undoing his belt. You got excited thinking he was going to let you suck his cock but instead he just pulled his belt from his pants and knelt down again. “Remember just say stop if you want to stop.” Frankie reminds you.
You nodded your eyes dilating, staring at the leather in his hands.
“Hands behind your back, baby.” He instructed. You obeyed your knees widening subconsciously. He tied his belt around your wrists. It’s not tight enough to hurt but you certainly could not move your hands without really trying. Frankie licked his lips, staring down at your vulnerable position. “Good little sweet pea.” He cooed. “Now you won’t be able to be naughty. What do you say?”
“Thank you, daddy.” You whispered feeling your cheeks burn at the depravity of your position. The smooth leather of his belt rubbed against your pulse point and Frankie’s smell filled your nose. You’re out in the open. Sure there was a fence but it still heightened your arousal. You were dripping you were sure of it. He knelt before you again to finish his hickies. He held your hair pulling it back to give himself more room.
You tried to lift up your arms multiple times but got stopped by the belt. You whined as he sucked another mark into you and you couldn’t get any stimulation in this position. Frankie let you moan and whine for him but he didn’t stop his mission. He finally pulled back, his hooded eyes evaluated at his work.
“Look at it, baby.”
You looked down at the curved line of hickies running from collarbone to collarbone. “Thank you, daddy, for my necklace. I love it so much.” You looked at his chest. You were matching now. Your lust was momentarily paused as a fresh wave of adoration washed over you. It was so much deeper than sex. Frankie noticed your change in expression and kissed you softly, bringing you back to the moment.
“You sat still for me so good. Now you can ask for what you want.” He strokes your hair softly.
“I wanna-I wanna suck you cock please?”
“Are you sure?” Frankie smiled. “You don’t want my mouth on you or-"
“No.” You shook your head. The emotions swirling in you from lust to love made you hungry for one thing. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth.”
“Fuck.” He groaned before kissing you hard, licking into your mouth. He never had someone as giving and kind and protective of him as you. He could have cried but there was no need because you were his forever. No yearning just living. He reached around to pull off the belt but you stopped him with a small voice.
“Leave it on.”
“Jesus fucking christ.” Frankie stood quickly. You sat up further, your hands still restrained behind your back. Your head was tilted up at him, your dress bunched around your waist, it was the most beautiful fucking sight.
Red blue and white fireworks dazzled the sky above. He picked you up bridal style and carried you inside as quickly as he could while you giggled in delight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Things started clicking into place like you were growing along some metaphorical ladder. You were finally where you needed to be. You got a job working at the VA in Miami, running their re-entry program. A small publishing house in Miami loved your book and agreed to publish it for a short run. Frankie took some money out of the Colombia account to cover the rest of the contract. Frankie had the book for sale at the shop pushing it on anyone who would enter. He was so proud of you. And that was all that mattered to you.
Frankie unironically planted sweet pea in the garden, telling you how they are slow to grow, but their delicate flower and sweet smell is worth the wait; just like you. Sweet peas were climbers, with the right support, they would bend to any shape. You knew you could go as high as the sky with Frankie by your side.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @floraandfrost @agingerindenial, @heythere-mel, @icanbeyourjedi, @linnie0119, @pedrosmustache, @thisshipwillsail316, @peterhollandkait, @leias-rebelion, @phoenix-of-loki, @prettypedros, @kennedywxlsh, @punkerthanpascal, @the-witty-pen-name, @twentyfirstcenturyfox, @madslorian, @sarahjkl82-blog, @bison-writes, @lightning-fast54, @maievdenoir, @nicolethered, @kenoobiwan, @danniburgh, @janebby, @dihra-vesa, @yespolkadotkitty, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @headinthestarz, @tanyaherondale, @christina-loves, @dobbyjen, @fangirl-316
#frankie morales#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#pedro pascal#frankie morales fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#triple frontier#triple frontier fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#calling home series#daddy!frankie
499 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you please do a one-shot where the reader tries to escape from yandere Gojo? Thanks in advance! ^^
Thanks for requesting ♥ Haven’t done a request for him in a while :D
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
Only when you finally ran out of adrenaline did you notice the soothing cold of the night against your skin. For the longest time, you hadn't felt even a breeze ruffling through your clothes. But now, paired with the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, you were engulfed by all these normal-strange sensations you had missed out on for so long.
Even though your feet hurt from running, and your lungs couldn't get enough of the air all around you, you felt so alive and happy, you were barely able to contain yourself from screaming in joy. Leaning against the wall, you decided to take a small rest in the alleyway, having come far already. How long had you run? Probably a bit more than twenty minutes, left and right and uphill and behind houses. You'd have put rabbits to shame with how you sidestepped just to escape.
So what now?
Many would call you crazy. That you'd run from a man that loved you so much wouldn't be taken positively by the people around you. You couldn't go home, or to your parents, after all, if you were him, that's where you'd look first. Police? But what would you tell them? That you were locked away for months? Gojo had told you more than once that it was useless to go anywhere - especially without him - after all, he made sure that no one would believe the terrible things you wanted to tell them. Everyone was under the assumption you were doing splendidly with your new boyfriend - a boyfriend you didn't even know existed.
You had been seen with him so many times that people liked to assume that what you had was a normal relationship. They didn't know that he kept forcing himself into your space, that you didn't want to go anywhere with him anymore after he monopolized and clung to you for the better part of weeks. Everyone knew he was eccentric, but they didn't think he was mad on top of that. One could assume that after all he's done in the past and went through, his brain took a big hit, his arrogance and confidence only feeding into his egotistical views. But that he'd kidnap the person he loved, kept them holed up, and did things you didn't want to think about anymore that's not something anyone would accept easily.
In fact, if you two were ever again confronted with each other, he might blame you for doing these things to yourself and harassing him! No... You decided then and there that you didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore. You just wanted to go somewhere he couldn't find you. Somewhere you'd be safe and could start over without drawing any attention. Calm and peaceful, but most importantly, alone.
At least, that was the plan, but biting the tip of your thumb, you realized you were still stuck in the middle of the city, with no money, no phone, and nowhere to go for help. Perhaps if you visited the bank and asked for money from your account personally, they'd be able to provide you with some, but it was already late, and you doubted there was any bank near you that had a late-night clerk waiting for customers. You didn't like to settle somewhere outside for the night. You wanted to be gone as fast as possible, but what were you supposed to do? Clothed in just a shirt and pants, you sunk to your bottom, pulling in your legs. At least, hidden behind dumpsters and between the buildings, no one would find you or, if, simply assume you were a beggar asleep.
This was still nicer than being with him.
Nicer than sleeping in his hold while he whispered his seemingly endless confession in your ear, your body bruised and fragile from his touches.
Sleeping in some dirty alleyway was heaven compared to it.
»»————————
"Ah, look at you," Gojo hummed as he stepped into the alleyway. Even though you had been dozing, immediately, your eyes snapped wide open, and you took on the stance of someone about to jump up and run again. However, your eyes could only fixate on his legs, standing right in front of you and blocking your way out. Even if you thought it was safest to hide, you didn't calculate the risk of getting found. "You must be cold."
There was mockery in his kind words, but Gojo was quick to strip off his jacket and squat down, laying the fabric around your shoulder. Everything about him - the sharp eyes hidden behind shades, the smell of his aftershave, the rough tug he made as he adjusted the jacket over your shoulders - made you want to vomit. Pictures of things he had done and things he was able to do to you popped into your mind while you sat there like a frozen, trying desperately to come up with an escape plan.
"How did you...?" you mumbled, questioning yourself more than him. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I could even find you? I missed you! Were you scared I wouldn't come?"
No, you were scared all along that he'd find you.
"Why?" you whispered, shoulders slumping. Gojo's lips curled into a pitying smile, one he probably imagined signaled empathy the best. But really, was there even a spark of humanity in this man that would let him feel these kinds of emotions? You doubted it more than anyone in the world. Hands falling from your shoulders to your hips and dragging forward over your thighs to your knees, Gojo took a deep breath, taking in every inch of you appreciatively. Like fine art, a rare sight to see, that's how you must have looked in his eyes.
"I told you I missed you, so I came--"
"No, why are you doing this. Why me? What do you want from me?"
Your voice sounded exhausted more than anything now. Now that you realized Gojo had won, you were tired. There was something animalistic in the way he touched you. Possessive, victorious. He was the white lion prowling in a habitat that didn't fit him, and yet, he benefitted from it. However he did it, you knew he wasn't just passing by and found you. If you didn't know it better, you'd say he always knew where you went, every second of your escape. But it was inexplicable how, when, and why he knew, and it frightened you even more that he was so much more aware of everything going on around you than you were.
Gojo smiled, hesitating to answer while he thought hard about what to say. "You. I always wanted you. I want you to love me and cherish me. Make the whole world stop for a while without me having to worry that you will disappear from it. I am doing this for you as much as I am doing it for me, don't you understand? Won't you rely on me to do what is best for us?"
"I don't want that," you replied firmly, not even a moment of hesitation on your side. No matter what he said, you couldn't decide if Gojo was telling the truth or if he lied. You were sure he was manipulating you, but at the same time, he did it with the face of an angel, hiding much, much more than you'd ever know even if you expected there to be hidden meaning behind it all.
"I see," he sighed, the smile never leaving his lips no matter how he was feeling at the moment. Was he angry? Disappointed? Sad? You weren't sure if even Gojo himself knew. But you did notice his grip on your legs growing harder as he kept squeezing down on them. "Then I will make you rely on me."
Surely enough, you couldn't keep up your scared-up-stance for much longer as he seemed to force you to the ground. You could feel your expression harden in pain as you gasped, pushing at his shoulders. However, Gojo used the moment of your focus shifting to move forward to your face, kissing you in a moment you were stunned by his actions. "Please don't hate me too much," he mumbled, almost sounding... remorseful.
"I just think those legs don't do us any good as long as they are attached to you. We both need to make sacrifices, you know?"
#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo jjk#yandere gojo#yandere!gojo#Jujutsu Kaisen#JJK#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere!jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#yandere!jjk#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW#Anonymous
953 notes
·
View notes
Note
One shot | Bucky | Fluffy: 1 , 9 | Angst: 5 , 6 | w/ a happy ending
I kinda wanted to make it a challenge, and I thought these prompts were the most interesting! If you do choose to do it, I hope you have fun! Have a great day ❤️
Pizza With a Side of Confessions
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: N/A, bit fluff, bit angst
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: thank you so so much for requesting! this also include in the second ask you sent i did see it and make note of it! you certainly did give me a challenge here this one took some real mapping out to complete but i think i got it i hope i checked off all the boxes :)
Masterlist
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You had sworn the knock on your door was going to be from your date. The sleazy, creepy date you had just rejected on the stoop of your apartment building.
He had ended up being the complete opposite of what he appeared to be online. Through text messages, he seemed caring and kind. Interested in you. But then when you two met… He hands kept groping. Wandering. Caressing. You had begged him to stop in the restaurant which he eventually did after he walked you home, something you only agreed to to keep the peace, he began working on you again and you had to put your foot down, forbidding the night from going further.
He didn’t look too happy about your attitude which made you assume when that knock landed on your door, it was him and he was coming back for revenge. You had grabbed the first knife you could find and quickly pulled the door open, ready to hopelessly defend yourself…
But as you blinked back the tears cascading down your face, welling in your eyes, you saw a familiar pair of blue eyes along with a familiar frown.
"Bucky?" You sniffled, still pointing the knife at your best friend’s chest.
"Hey, doll," Bucky said, cautiously. He was standing as still as he could while also balancing a pizza box in his arms. "Do you… Do you maybe want to drop the knife, like, right now?"
You shook yourself out of your daze, quickly pulling the knife away from him. He visibly relaxed but his expression was cold, serious, as it took in your upset form. You brought the back of your hand to your face trying to get rid of the tears but they just wouldn’t stop.
"I-I’m sorry," you mumbled as you stepped away from the doorway, letting Bucky into the apartment. He immediately abandoned the pizza on your kitchen counter and turned to you, brows furrowing in waves of worry.
"What happened?" He asked — well, more like growled. If a man could growl. He truly sounded beyond angry which made you jump a bit. Bucky must’ve noticed because he immediately took a step back and tried recomposing himself. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you it’s just — seeing you cry — I need to know, whose ass am I kicking now."
You let out a light laugh at that, seeing his such protective side. You and Bucky had formed quite an interesting friendship over time. When you two first met, he loved bickering with you, teasing you here and there about anything and everything. You’d be the bud of the joke with him and while you tried not to let it bother you, admittedly, it had very quickly gotten quite annoying. Eventually, he seemed to just abandon the act and while you were cautious, you welcomed the newfound friendship — Lord knows those were hard to come across in adulthood.
Bucky has been an amazing friend to you ever since. Maybe even a little too amazing because over time you couldn’t deny some feelings had begun to form. But in your eyes, there could be no way such a handsome, funny man was going to be as interested in you. You tried to suppress it and instead just taught yourself to enjoy his little acts of kindness.
"I-I went on another date tonight," you sighed, setting the knife back in its holder. You leaned against the counter, opposite of Bucky. His arms were folded, waiting. "I and this guy had been texting for a while and… and I really thought he was great, I truly did, but then when we met he just made me so uncomfortable. All touchy, feely… Just making my skin crawl, even now." You sighed, dropping your gaze to the kitchen floor. "I told him I wasn’t interested after he walked me home and he didn’t seem very happy about it so… When you knocked, I thought it was him trying to get into my apartment."
You felt like such a fool explaining the situation. Despite this being Bucky and knowing, at some capacity, he wasn’t going to hold it over you, it was still embarrassing. You seemed to be constantly going on these dates trying to find a partner and time after time you came up disappointed. And Bucky would always be there to pick up the pieces.
When you looked back up at your friend, you found he was studying you closely. He was sure taking a while to respond but, then again, what more could he say? You felt he probably had grown exhausted trying to comfort you after these failed dates.
And it seemed your suspicions had been confirmed — but not in a way you could have ever seen coming.
Bucky cleared his throat as if he was preparing. You took a deep breath, ready for whatever blow he was about to serve. Would he yell at you? Would he give some speech on his disappointed he is? Beg you to delete the apps? Would he—
"Maybe you just shouldn’t be going on those dates anymore."
"Huh?" You frowned.
Bucky sighed. "You can’t keep putting yourself through this."
"But how else will I find someone to date? I’m not getting any younger here, Buck."
He turned away suddenly. You heard him let out a deep sigh. Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears.
"You could maybe start by looking at the man in front of you."
Your jaw just about hit the floor. "B-Bucky—"
But there was no stopping him as he went in for the declaration. "Remember when we first met and I used to tease you relentlessly? At the time, did it ever cross your mind that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t hate you? That I wasn’t doing it out of spite? I was doing it because I was nervous. Here waltzes in this amazing, beautiful woman, and I-I didn’t know what to do. I was falling for you and I couldn’t stop it. Hell, I’m still falling for you. Every day, darling. Every goddamn day." He paused, shaking his head. "I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear tonight but I can’t sit here any longer watching you get taken advantage of by the men in this city. I’m sorry it’s coming out like this but I think you needed to hear it. I apologize for that but I won’t apologize for loving you."
You didn’t know what to do. All you could focus on was Bucky’s pleading eyes and the tears forming in your own. But they were coming on for a good reason this time. They weren’t wasted tears over an uncomfortable date. They were tears of relief.
"Do-Do you really mean all that?" You finally asked.
Bucky nodded. "Every word."
In a spontaneous move, you pushed yourself away from the counter and took determined strides towards Bucky. You threw your arms around his waist, burying your face in his shirt. It took Bucky a second to react but you eventually felt his arms snake around you.
"I love you, too, Buck," you mumbled into his chest. You felt his body shake as he chuckled.
"You sure, doll?"
You nodded. "I’ve loved you for a while, too. I just never thought you’d ever…"
"Stop," Bucky said. "Don’t say anymore. Whatever you thought, it’s not true. I have always loved you."
You pulled away from his chest, putting some distance between you two but keeping your arms locked around him. He was looking down at you with a great mixture of relief and adornment on his face. You couldn’t help but smile. You felt the same.
"I can’t believe this," you giggled. "So are we… Are we like…"
Bucky laughed. "I think we need a date first."
You gasped, happily. "A date?"
He nodded then untangled himself from you. You watched as Bucky walked over to the forgotten pizza. "How about pizza and a movie?"
You looked between Bucky and the pizza box. "Bucky, do you want to explain why you were at my door with a pizza?"
Realization flashed across Bucky’s face. "I-I didn’t come here expecting a date or anything, I swear. I stopped by because… well, I didn’t know you had your date and thought at the very least we could hang out. I even got your favorite."
You smiled, stalking over to the pizza. "Pepperoni and jalapeños?"
Bucky scoffed. "I did say I got your favorite, didn’t I?"
You let out a cheerful squeal as you hugged Bucky again, throwing your arms around his neck. He leaned into you and it all felt natural, like the stars in the sky had finally aligned.
You broke away and said, "You take the pizza and find a movie. I’ll grab some plates."
Bucky agreed and you two broke into your separate tasks, eventually coming back together to sit on your living room couch. At first, though, you two just kind of stood there, the smell of pizza wafting between you two. You weren’t just sitting on the couch to watch a movie — you were sitting down, on a date, to watch a movie.
But you were tired of being so hesitant and running into wrongs after wrongs. You were taking this opportunity. You sat on the couch and patted the spot right next to you. Once Bucky sat down, you got a bit bolder and threw his arm over you, allowing you to cuddle into him. He was a bit tense at first but soon eased up, welcoming you to invade his space.
Bucky had decided on some action movie but you didn’t particularly care about it. All you could focus on was the fact you were cuddling with Bucky while eating pizza. It was a date. A real date where the touching felt natural and you weren’t scared of saying the wrong thing. Had you really been so blind?"
The emotions and questions within you were building quickly. You needed a way to break it, to distract yourself. You landed on your sad, silly humor to save the day.
"Hey, Buck," you mumbled as the car on screen blew up or something. You didn’t know, you just shifted closer into Bucky — if that was even possible. His hold on you got tighter.
"Yeah, doll?"
"Remember when I pulled a knife on you? That’s crazy. Who would’ve guessed a little civilian like myself could hold a knife to the Winter Soldier and live to tell the tale." You were well aware that you were rambling now, the roller coaster of a night catching up to you, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind.
The laughter that escaped him was like music to your ears. His body shook beneath you as he comically laughed at your ridiculous comment.
“You drive me up the wall sometimes, darling," Bucky mumbled back once he had calmed down.
You giggled, "Better get used to it."
"Yeah," he sighed, "I guess I better."
#1k celebration#request#bucky barnes#the winter soldier#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes angst#angst#fluff#marvel fanfiction#marvel one shot#marvel#mcu fic#mcu#avengers#friends to lovers#one shot#writing*
270 notes
·
View notes
Text
Penguin Love story
Pairing Shoto Todoroki x female reader
Genre : angst to fluff
WC and warnings : 1.1 k / Loneliness and feeling abandoned.
Note : Penguins express their love to their mates by offering them rocks and pebbles. What an adorable and moving way to say I love you, isn't it ?
Hey everyone, I am back ! I am sorry, I was on hiatus and I didn’t warned you, I am so sorry ! I promise that I’ll catch all your requests up quickly ! Today’s work is for @impalawrites Adelie’s collab. I am sorry it took my like forever to achieve it, really sorry. I hope that you’ll like it, please let me know !
Love ain’t easy every day, especially with a pro hero, and especially with a pro hero who wants to prove his worth to the world. Shoto Todoroki was your beloved absent husband, busy saving people and keeping order in town. Of course, you’re extremely proud of him, no doubt on it, but you kinda felt really lonely recently. Like for example yesterday, you didn’t saw him at all. He left before you woke up and came back when you were sleeping. You missed him, which sounds ridiculous because you and him, as a married couple, live under the same roof, in the same house, and even shared a bed together… But right now, you just came back from your own work, which has normal basic schedule, and this big house felt too empty for you. No husband, no kids around… Just you and yourself.
Okay, it’s useless to wallow in self-pity ! You decide to cook Shoto’s favorite meal for dinner, and maybe if you call him and tell him that it’s homemade noodles tonight, he’ll find his way to come back early and have dinner with you. But nothing happened as you planned…
“Honey ! How was your day ? Not too exhausting ?”
“Not that bad, and not that tiring, but I found enough energy to spend more than an hour in the kitchen ! I cooked you homemade noodles. Your mother gave me her recipe ! It’ll be ready in half an hour, just enough time for you to come back home !”
“Oh… That’s so sweet of you, honey, but I can’t tonight… I am stuck with some paperwork that I really need to finish. I’ll be home late. Don’t wait for me for dinner.”
“I am not hungry… I’ll let you a plate in the fridge. You’ll just have to warm it later. Good night Shoto.”
“Don’t hang up ! Are you okay ? Your voice sounds like… You’re gonna cry…”
“It’s nothing…”
“No. You seem… disappointed. I am really sorry, but I promise that I’ll do my best to finish this boring office work early !”
You hold on a slight sob, but can’t help the tears falling down.
“You know what, Shoto ? I would rather see you with lovers. Or even a mistress. At least one of us would be having fun !”
And you hang up and went directly in your bed. You cried a lot, curled up against Shoto’s pillow. You cried because his absence hurts you, but also because what you said was true.
You were a bit more calm when he finally came back home, really late at night. He probably already ate… You hear him go to the bathroom, take a shower and wear his pajamas before joining you in the bedroom. And what was your surprise when you saw him snuggling in bed, with a jewel box and some of your favorite chocolate. You were lowkey angry, and sad, and mostly disappointed, but you couldn’t help but appreciate his efforts to try and make it up to you. You can see that he is sincerely apologizing, that he really felt sorry. At least, he’s not a total moron… He remembered that you didn’t like flowers and preferred chocolates… But you doubt it when you opened the other box. Sure, it was some fancy, beautiful and expensive jewelry. It only made you angrier, and extremely hurt. You throw the box away with an enraged movement. Sure that he didn’t even take a look to that jewel, since he had no time to do so. So you were looking at something his secretary chose for you. And it disgusted you.
Shoto looks at you, kind of confused by your behavior. His brother assured him that a jewel and some attention could fix the problem, so why do you seem so furious ?
“You know what, Shoto ? Every single rock on your path would’ve been worthier than this cheap junk because you would’ve picked it yourself and maybe you would have think of me during so, instead of letting your secretary chose a random jewel that she’ll like ! You should gave it to her.”
You burst into cries, uncontrolled sobs pouring from your chest, where you could fell your heart squeeze from pain. He tries to hug you, but you push him away. He doesn’t understand !
“I don’t want your money. I don’t want chocolates or whatever cute attention. Even if it’s cute. I want time ! You get that ? I want time with you, I want my husband with me. I want your affection, and more than five minutes a day ! That’s just enough time for good morning or good night… I want more… Do you realize that you might actually see criminals more than your own wife ? Whatever. Good night, Shoto.”
And you went to sleep on the couch. And when you woke up in the morning, he wasn’t in the house. He left already…
In the evening, just as you finished work and were heading home, you received a text message. “Don’t cook tonight.” Here it goes again… But not even an hour later, your husband came back home, hours earlier than usual ! With another jewelry box. Maybe he chose it himself this time. But when you opened it, you found… a rock. A vulgar pebble. You remain speechless, looking at a smiling Shoto.
“I love you, Y/n, and I married you to have you by my side for the rest of my life. So what’s the point in being a hero and saving lives if I lost you doing so ? You are my everything and I am sorry for neglecting you. I promise that I will not do it again. I’ll hire a sidekick or two to have a more normal schedule. And I’ll be with you. Every single morning, and every single night. We can even start a family if you like, so we could give our future child the whole bag of pebbles that I picked up today. I even found a marble near a school during patrol. So please, Y/n, would you forgive me ?”
And how could you say no to this ? His declaration was the best medication for your wounded heart.
“Of course that I am forgiving you, Shoto. I love you too… I love you so much ! But why did you tell me to not cook today ? We have nothing for dinner !”
“We’re eating outside tonight ! And I took a few days off in this week, so maybe could we go somewhere out of town or do whatever you would like…”
You smirked a bit.
“I kinda have an idea about an activity that I really missed doing with you… And we could start right now !”
______________________________________
Here is ! Please let me know if you liked it or not, and if you did like it, feel free to share so other people could enjoy it as well :)
Don't forget to submit a request if you'd like one, I would be happy to oblige !
#shoto todoroki#shoto torodoki#mha shoto#shoto fluff#shoto x reader#bnha shoto#todoroki shoto#bnha shoto todoroki#todoroki#mha todoroki#bnha todoroki#todoroki x reader#todoroki fluff#todoroki shouto#todoroki x you#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha imagines
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
part two of that thing I posted last week! This is also an unedited first draft, so take it with a grain of salt
~ ~
She arrives in the dead of night, clothes singed and skin burned.
The knock wakes them all, but Hooty is the loudest. He bursts through Luz’s window, a worm shaped interloper, and announces “HEY LUZ, YOUR GF IS HERE!!!!! SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE WAS DIPPED IN A POT OF ACID, BUT I’M SURE IT’S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT.”
Before Luz can even open her eyes fully to focus, he slides back out of her window with a loud “HOOT HOOT”.
Blinking sleep out of her eyes, Luz thinks she might be dreaming, until she hears the knock at the door. It’s insistent, quick, and somehow a little desperate.
Something is wrong.
She is instantly awake and on her feet, flying down the hallway just in time to collide with Eda, whose hair is sticking up at all angles. Before she can fall, Eda steadies her, and says “Did I hear Hooty say that Boots is in trouble?”
“I’m not sure,” Luz says frantically, “but we need to get to the door. Now.” She’s already running as she’s talking, and finally, finally, she makes it to the front of the house. She wrenches open the door and standing there is Amity, eyes red rimmed and body shaking.
Behind her is a sheet of boiling rain.
“Oh my gosh, did you run here in the rain???” Luz asks, grabbing Amity’s hand and tugging her inside. Amity nods wordlessly, staring at a spot on the floor. Now that she’s closer, Luz can see the damage; the rain has singed the sleeves of Amity’s dress, and dark, angry burns march up and down her arms. “Dang, kid, are you okay?” Eda asks, sounding genuinely concerned.
Something inside Luz tugs insistently, and though she wants to panic, she knows Amity needs her more right now. So she takes a deep breath and says “Let’s get you patched up, okay?”
Amity doesn’t move. She’s still staring at the floor with a blank expression, and Luz suddenly has no idea what to do. She wants to wrap Amity in her arms, protect her from whatever’s going on, but she knows that might not be appreciated, so she decides to ask.
“Do you want a hug?”
Amity nods so imperceptibly that Luz thinks she might have imagined it, but she nonetheless takes it as a yes. Careful to loop her arms around Amity’s waist and not her neck so as to avoid touching the burns, she wraps Amity in a loose hug. For a second, Amity does nothing. She stands there shaking with her arms hanging at her sides, until all at once, like a dam exploding, she grabs at Luz almost desperately, pulling her tighter as she bursts into tears.
Luz has never been in a situation like this before. Eda is sitting on the couch a respectful distance away, watching but not getting involved. Luz doesn’t know what to do, so she decides to follow her instincts. She reaches up to stroke Amity’s hair and whispers “It’s okay, you’re okay”. Amity cries herself out a few minutes later, Luz talking to her in a soothing voice the whole time. When only sniffles remain, Luz asks “Can we go to the couch? Eda wants to treat your burns.”
“Y-yeah,” Amity hiccups. It’s the first thing she’s said all night, and something in Luz loosens at the sound of it. She keeps an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders as she guides her to the couch. She doesn’t want to let go, so when they sit down, she instantly grabs Amity’s hand.
“Is this okay?” she asks Amity. Amity nods, gently brushing her thumb along Luz’s knuckles in silent consent.
“Wow,” Eda whistles. “The rain got you good. Why were you out in that anyway, are you crazy?”
“Eda-” Luz starts, but Amity holds a hand up. “It’s okay,” she says. As Eda begins pulling potions out of the cabinet, Amity says “It’s- it’s my parents”.
Luz goes cold. She remembers them well. It’s hard to forget people who tried to kill you.
She hasn’t had much contact with Alador, but Odalia...Odalia gives her a feeling she can’t describe. Just the sight of her makes Luz unspeakably angry. Looking at Amity now, though, she realizes that Alador is just as bad. Complacency in the face of abuse is just as bad as the abuse itself.
“We had a fight,” Amity continues. “And you ran away? In the boiling rain? That takes guts, kid,” Eda says, a mixture of impressed and concerned.
“Not exactly. They, um...they kicked me out.”
“WHAT?”
“It’s not forever,” Amity hastens to say. “Just for the night. My mom said she...she said she can’t even look at me right now, and my Dad just agreed with her. Like he always does.”
Luz’s grip on Amity’s hand is tight as steel now. She’s ready to get up and give the Blights a piece of her mind. She wants to take them down, and make them pay for what they’ve done.
“So,” Luz says in a low voice. “Your parents left you alone in the middle of the night in rain that can literally kill you?”
“Yeah,” Amity says bitterly. “They’re not the best parents.”
“I’m going to make them pay for this. I’m- I’m going to go over there, and I’m going to-”
“Luz,” Amity puts a hand on Luz’s shoulder. “No. You can’t- I don’t want you in the same room as them ever again, okay?” Amity sounds scared.
Luz remembers the abomiton that tried to kill her, and the disappointed look on Odalia’s face when it didn’t succeed. She also remembers Amity’s righteous anger, and the steely eyed glare she gave her mother.
“I can’t have you hurt again,” Amity says, sounding almost frantic. “I just can’t, okay?”
“Okay, okay, shh it’s okay,” Luz assures her, cupping a hand to her face. Neither of them have the energy to be embarrassed about it right now, but it’s probably the most romantic gesture they’ve shared. Amity leans into Luz’s hand, breathing deeply.
“This might sting,” Eda says from the other side of the couch. Both Luz and Amity jump, having forgotten that she was there. Sheepishly, they part, still holding hands. Eda smirks at Luz and gives her a wink that Luz hopes Amity didn’t see. She gets the feeling Eda is going to be talking to her about this later.
Eda dabs a bit of blue potion onto Amity’s arm, and Amity hisses, breath whistling through her teeth, but she doesn’t flinch. “Is it- ow- is it okay that I came here?” She asks Eda, looking at her shyly.
Eda snorts, like it’s the stupidest question in the world. “I practically take kids in for a living, now,” she says. “What’s one more?”
“It’s just for the night,” Amity hastens to assure her. “I’m going home tomorrow morning.”
Luz shakes her head. “I hate the idea of you living with them. I can’t believe they treat you like this and just get away with it!”
“I’ll get out of there eventually. When I join a coven…” Amity trails off, and an awkward silence ensues. They haven’t talked about the whole “Amity’s biggest dream being potentially crushed by the Emperor being evil” thing.
“Well, the point is, it’s not forever,” Amity finally finishes.
“Aaaand done,” Eda says, wrapping the last bandage around Amity’s wrist. She stands up, knees creaking in an entirely unnatural way. “And now it’s bedtime,” she yawns. “You two get some rest, too.”
“Thank you, Eda,” Amity calls, and Eda gives her a lazy wave over her shoulder as she leaves.
The adrenaline is wearing off, now, and Luz suddenly realizes she has no idea what she’s doing. She glances at Amity out of the corner of her eye, and the image of her cupping Amity’s face floats into her brain. She flushes a deep scarlet, and suddenly, she needs to be doing something, anything else.
“Well, okay,” she says loudly, standing up abruptly and walking towards the closet. “Let me get you some pillows and a blanket, the couch is old and creaky, but it’s comfortable.”
As she’s rummaging through the closet, she hears Amity say “Luz”.
“Yeah?”
“Would you- I mean, if you wanted to, could you- could you stay with me for a little while?” She sounds so scared, and so sad, and it’s so unlike Amity that Luz melts immediately.
“Of course,” she says. “Here, scoot over.”
Amity moves a few inches, wincing at the pain in her arms. Luz sits down next to her and drapes a blanket over the both of them. They sit there awkwardly for a few minutes, and Luz is absolutely freaking out. She has no idea what to do now. Before she can agonize over it any further, Amity’s head lands on Luz’s shoulder.
This is unprecedented.
Nobody ever told Luz how scary the beginning of a relationship is. Nobody warned her that every little thing Amity does could change her mood instantly, or that every time she touches her she can swear to god she feels electricity.
Nobody told her how bittersweet it could be to have Amity Blight resting her head on her shoulder, exhausted from a horrific night of what can only be called abuse.
Her internal alarms are going off, she’s losing her mind, and she hopes Amity doesn’t notice. In the midst of this emergency, Amity calls her name sleepily.
“Hey, Luz?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re my favorite person.”
Oh. Oh wow. Oh. Wow.
This is a whole new level of scary. She feels a mixture of nerves and elation swirl through her, and she can’t help but smile, and she feels a little bit like crying but she doesn’t know why. She doesn’t know what to say, so instead, she does something even scarier: she kisses the top of Amity’s head.
She freezes, hoping that was okay, hoping that Amity doesn’t feel weird about it, but before she can ask, Amity starts quietly snoring.
She’s fallen asleep. Luz breathes a sigh of relief, marveling at the fact that Amity felt comfortable enough, after an awful night, to come to her house and fall asleep on her shoulder. How did she ever get so lucky?
After awhile, Luz yawns and checks her watch. Four forty two am. It’s definitely time for bed, but she doesn’t want to wake Amity up by leaving, so she decides that she’s going to stay up all night, watching over her girlfriend and making sure she’s okay.
Two minutes later, she falls asleep, resting her head on Amity’s.
When they wake up in the morning, it’s all apologies and blushing and everything Luz has started to get used to. But Amity has a small smile on her face despite her blush, and Luz has to admit: it’s the best nap she’s ever had.
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Continued from here because @firewheeesky asked for more :)
-
They have to be dragged there, harsh hands the only thing keeping Whumpee from falling on their face, feet only grazing the floor, back screaming in agony.
As soon as they stop in front of the barred door that leads to a hallway filled with dingy cells, though, Whumpee is left to stand on their own and immediately falls to their knees, letting out a low, involuntary whimper when pain blurs the world around them.
One of the guards huffs in mockery or impatience, the other nudges Whumpee with their foot. They don’t have enough strength to do more than close their eyes.
Caretaker isn’t eating or drinking any water. Do something about it or I will, Whumper had said. Didn’t even need an “or else” to convince them to go, even if they could barely stand up without support. Whumpee knew all the “or else’s” – torture, isolation, being sold away. All had been hung over their head at some point until they knew none was a bluff.
They’d had two days of rest after Caretaker’s capture – after their best friend’s hiding spot was whipped out of them. The gashes on their back are still angry red, blazing hot, and maddeningly painful. Still, no complaints were heard when Whumper ordered them to go down to the dungeon, to talk to the one person they wanted to the most and the least at the same exact amount.
Whumpee takes deep breaths in hopes it calms their mind, their body. It doesn’t, but they don’t have the time to wait for the pain to recede.
Using the wall for support, Whumpee climbs to their feet and straightens their back, lifts their chin. Yes, they had been tortured for the information of where to find Caretaker, but it was Whumpee’s decision, their selfishness that made them tell their living nightmare where to find their best friend. They can’t – they won’t – use their pain to force Caretaker into forgiveness. It’s not something Whumpee deserves, anyway.
They take one last moment to frown at the waves of pain before opening their eyes and start walking.
It hurts and hurts and hurts to stride forward like their back isn’t about to burst into flames – like it isn’t already burning. Move their feet like each step doesn’t make the world spin and a whine to gather behind their teeth. Stare ahead like they don’t wish to shut their eyes and crumble down.
Whumpee stops in front of the only occupied cell and the guards halt a few steps behind, just out of sight.
Caretaker is a hunched figure on the ground, gaze lost somewhere else for the few moments they take to realize who’s standing on the other side of the metal bars. As soon as they do, the haze in their eyes dissolves into something sharper, colder.
“Hi,” Whumpee whispers.
Caretaker simply glares at them, the disappointment so visible in the way they hug their knees closer to their chest and tilt their head slightly to the side, it makes Whumpee bite on their lip to keep the tears at bay. Their heart pounds and their hands are clammy, both from pain and anxiety, and suddenly they feel so faint they lean back against the wall across the cell. As soon as they do, though, a scream gets caught in their throat.
Pain floods their body and steals away their breath. Whumpee clenches their fists and turns their head away, hoping it’ll hide the pain prompted tears shining in their eyes. It takes long seconds to calm their breathing enough to make the world stop spinning, to straighten up again as if nothing had happened.
“Whumper said you’re not eating,” they say softly once they’re sure they can do it without stammering.
“I don’t trust that the food won’t be drugged,” is the hoarse answer.
“It’s been almost three days, Caretaker. You have to at least drink some water or you’ll… you’ll–“
“Die?” they laugh bitterly, shaking their head. “I’d rather go by my terms than by your new ally’s.”
“Whumper isn’t my ally,” Whumpee murmurs, gripping the cage’s bars, leaning against it, and sighing soundlessly at the slight relief of not holding their entire weight on their own.
“Oh?” Caretaker’s eyebrows shoot up, mockery filling their voice. “Then what are they? Your new best friend? Oh, oh, I know! You two fell in love and now you’re lovers. Or maybe your new mentor?”
Each word is aimed to wound, and each one of them does. They know Caretaker is trying to get them into a fight, maybe to hurt Whumpee as much as they hurt them. It’s fair, and they wish they could give them that if nothing else. But Whumpee has no fight left in them. It was all taken away between whips and knives, punches and kicks. Threats and treats. Whumpee’s hands tremble at the thought, at every slight, although unwelcome affectionate touch, meant to harm and comfort and disgust all at the same time.
“You don’t have to do this,” Whumpee says, meeting Caretaker’s angry eyes with their exhausted ones. “I know you don’t believe me, but I really am sorry I betrayed you. I wish I hadn’t, but it’s done now and I can’t go back. Just please, please eat something. For–“ me. Our friendship. The words get stuck in Whumpee’s throat, and Caretaker’s narrowed eyes are enough for Whumpee to know they were heard even if unpronounced. “Your food’s not drugged. Please.”
“What makes you think I trust you any better than Whumper?”
Whumpee flinches and coughs to conceal the little squeak that escapes when the movement lights up all their barely healing nerve endings.
What is there to be said? That they’d never hurt Caretaker? That they wouldn’t lie? That they’re sorry?
They’ve already hurt them. Gave them in. There’s no comfort to be offered here.
“If you don’t eat by yourself, Whumper will force you to. It’s not– don’t choose that option.”
Because that option meant far more pain than it was worth, Whumpee had learned.
Something softens in Caretaker’s gaze at that, the tilt of their head becomes less ironic, more tired.
“You need all the strength you can get,” Whumpee murmurs, looking down at their hands.
“I’m sorry Whumpee, but I won’t change sides as you did. Let them try and force me if they must, but I won’t yield on my own.”
Whumpee looks up, wide, sad eyes locking into Caretaker’s fearless features as echoing footfalls reach their ears. The guards are beside them in no time, and Whumpee almost gags when one of them touches their back to push them out of their way.
They catch themself before they can either scream or tumble down, gripping the cell’s bars to keep standing. The guards open the door and enter the cell, and all they can do is tremble and stare while four armed men surround their best friend, who weirdly only has eyes for Whumpee, tracking each of their ragged breaths.
Caretaker looks at Whumpee with furrowed brows, and they feel themself recoil at the emotion in their eyes. Deeper than anger, deeper even than hatred. The face they turn away as soon as a guard touches them is one that promises murder.
They hadn’t known the men would listen to the conversation and intervene if it didn’t work, but they should’ve. Whumpee’s been with Whumper long enough to guess their orders if they hadn’t been so lost in their own guilt and pain. They deserve that anger too.
Caretaker tries to fight, but their flimsy struggles, weak from days without food, are nothing compared to the guards. The first one pushes Caretaker to the floor, sits over their chest to keep them pinned down. The second sits over their legs. A strangled scream fills the dungeon when the third grips their cheeks to hold their head still and their mouth open for the fourth to pour water inside, way too fast for Caretaker to do more than gag and cough.
Whumpee takes a step in their direction, shaking like a leaf. Their hands reach forward, desperate to help, feet taking another step, heart sinking at each desperate gasp. But their back burns in warning, as well as every other bruise and wound that never got the chance to close and scar. A hundred lashes cross their mind, the pain and the helplessness, and Whumper’s words are whispered against their ear again and again. We’ll have to try to get to a hundred and fifty next time you start misbehaving.
Silent tears flow down their face, and Whumpee falls to their knees just outside the cell, arms wrapping around themself as they stare in horror, knowing there’s nothing they can do to stop it, unable to convince themself to take another step only to fail and suffer later for their empty loyalty.
Caretaker shouts and cries in the few moments they’re not choking and gasping for air. Whumpee gasps too and weeps at who they’ve become, at what’s happening right in front of their eyes. When did Whumper turn them into this broken mess? This scared thing that doesn’t dare help the only person that ever mattered?
Still, none of the thoughts do more than break their already shattered heart. They still kneel an inch from the door, still stare, frozen, at their friend drowning in air. Their shoulders hunch forward, and as Whumpee looks and looks, they let the pain coming from their back envelop them, and welcome it – it’s well deserved. They deserve far worse for letting this happen, for not being strong enough to say a word to interfere.
It takes seconds or months or years, but the guards let go of Caretaker’s now shaky, soaked body, leaving them to curl up on the floor and cough their lungs out.
The guards laugh at Caretaker, then at Whumpee’s tear-stained cheeks as they leave the cell.
“Come on, pet, let’s go,” one of them says on the way out, viciously squeezing their shoulder and digging their fingertips into a wound. Warm blood soaks up the bandages, trickle down Whumpee’s thin t-shirt, but they only close their eyes at the pain and welcome it too.
They shoot Caretaker one last glance filled with sorrow and longing, hoping they can read the truth behind their tears – if I could go back, I’d let them ruin me, I’d try to be stronger. I’m so sorry for being weak for you, I’m so, so sorry.
But instead of hatred or pain, what they find in their friend’s eyes is worry and bravery, even as they sag on the floor, exhausted.
Whumpee holds the bars again to pull themself slowly up, and with one last look at Caretaker, take a step away.
“Wait, Whumpee,” Caretaker calls in between coughs. The guard behind them sighs their disapproval but doesn’t stop them when Whumpee turns around. “You’re bleeding,” Caretaker states in a painfully raspy voice, eyes glued to their back. “What did Whumper do to you?”
It’s the concern in their voice that breaks the rest of Whumpee’s heart, that makes new tears stream down their face. They turned Caretaker in, betrayed and yielded, and still, the fierce protectiveness in their tone is missed by no one.
“Nothing I didn’t deserve,” they whisper before turning around again.
They leave their heart behind, with the one person they never deserved but love anyway, as Caretaker’s voice fills the dungeon. The sound of them shouting Whumpee’s name without answer echoes through the dark hallways all the way out. It keeps echoing inside of Whumpee’s chest even after it fades in distance.
(part 3)
#whump#whump writing#forced to watch#hiding an injury#broken whumpee#betrayal#captivity#caretaker whumpee#torture mention#whipping mention#force fed#except it's water not food but i don't know how else to call it lol#wounded#self blame#guilt#blood cw#exhaustion#self starvation#also the time when caretaker looks murderous is because they saw whumpee wincing when the guard pushed them#i read this so many times i can't tell anymore if that was clear or not hashfdh
295 notes
·
View notes
Note
Prompt: Wolfstar - Sirius opens up to Remus about his thoughts on dating a werewolf. Any rating you want.
I truly apologize for such a late response. Your prompt was quite the unique one and I hope you like how I wrote it. Thank you for an amazing suggestion! Happy Reading! <3
Rating: Mature (Implied Sexual Content.)
Sirius bursts into the common room with the deepest frown on his face and the biggest pout on his lips which is enough to cast everyone’s attention in the room. Marlene squints from her magazine, James sits up from Lily’s lap, and Peter sets down his chocolate (which rarely happens, that means some disaster awaits the Marauders and others around them.) However, the only person who is straining his nerves to look nonchalant—but the nostrils don’t help much but flare hopelessly—is none other than Remus Lupin.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Sirius says curtly. James looks around to see who is he addressing with such aggression, and it is again none other than Remus Lupin sitting with a book hiding his face. The tension in the air is so thick that can only be cut with a knife.
“I am talking to you, Remus.” He speaks again, his voice is emphatic on each of his words. Remus changes the direction of the book from his face as if it is a mask, but it is still in between his index finger and thumb. His eyebrows are cocked up higher enough to disappear in his golden fringe.
“I’m sorry but I don’t have time to discuss anything as useless and pointless as your drama.” He says.
Peter gasps, Lily flinches, and Marlene snorts. Sirius shoots her a glare.
“Sorry.” She recovers and hides back her face in the magazine.
“You think I am being dramatic about this?” Sirius turns back and asks indignantly.
“I don’t think you are being dramatic,” Remus makes an innocent face suddenly, waving his hands to his sides. His facial expressions are always priceless, “but I think you are dramatic.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Lupin!” Sirius looks extremely mortified as he scoffs at him and the next thing everyone knows that he is climbing the dormitory stairs, and then which follows with a loud slam of the door.
The silence in the room is filled with the crackling sound of the fire before their sitting spot until James clears her throat as his eyes—in fact, everyone’s eyes land on Remus who is sitting like a terrified cat, scared but too prideful to admit his harshness.
“So…umm, you guys having a row?” James finally says.
“You think?” Marlene makes a bored face before she turns to Remus, “So tell me, darling, what is your problem?”
“My problem?” He asks as if he can’t believe he has been asked that question.
“Yes, Rem,” Lily says suddenly, looking stern and concerned at the same time, “Your problem.”
“How can you say that without knowing what’s going on between us!”
“We don’t know what’s going on between you two, but what we know is that you insulted him in front of everyone and now you don’t feel bad about it?” Lily scolds Remus, who looks like he has been slapped. He looks down at his hands. His books are still between his hands. He has been feeling bad the second he said those mean words to Sirius, and now he feels a lot worse than a few seconds ago. He is looking down at his book while his mind racing on how should apologize to his boyfriend before a shadow grows on which makes him look up to see James Potter snatching the book from his hands. He doesn’t even get a chance to protest because James is already settling his head on Lily’s lap, and acting to read that book.
“Fine, Potter!” He threw his hands up in surrender and stands up to make his way to the dormitory. He sees the smirk breaking on James’ lips but his eyes never leaving the book page which he is definitely not reading at all.
He opens the door of the dorm, and the air smells stale and something is on fire. The urgency suddenly takes place in his body as he walks around to find four perfectly tucked beds, the bathroom door is opened which means Sirius is not inside.
He sees the window opened and sees the wisps of faint smoke in his view. He comes close to lean out. His side glance catches Sirius sitting on the extremely narrow ledge with his legs dangling in nothing but a groundless view of Hogwarts beneath his feet, and for a second Remus has decided that his heart has stopped beating. He staggers back in to process the view in his head.
“Fucking shit! Fuck! Merlin!” Remus curses when his brain completely registers the terrifying idiocy of his boyfriend. He leans out again to call him, “Sirius, are you out of your fucking mind!?”
He doesn’t reply because he is smoking his cigarette in the most seductive way, or maybe he is smoking just fine but Remus can’t help but feel something funny in his lower abdomen.
“Sirius?” He says again with his clenched teeth.
“I will not listen to you unless you put your anger aside,” Sirius says with a deadpanned face which is, by the way, glimmering in the moonlight as if it is something sacred. His beauty is ethereal and yet so sharp to cut someone’s heart into two. Remus swallows because it is a mouth-watering sight. But then he remembers. This is exactly what they have been fighting about; Werewolf instincts. The moon is close, and the wolf is flowing into him.
“This is not some joke, Sirius! This is extremely dangerous! Come back in this instant!”
“See, no gentleness,” Sirius sighs and takes a drag from his cigarette, “Not coming right now.”
This is infuriating, Sirius is in fact infuriating. However, yelling at him is just like setting more fire on the raging flames. Remus inhales, and then reaches out his hand from the window for Sirius, “Please. Come inside, Sirius.”
“Nopes.” Remus clenches his mouth but then relaxes.
“Look, Sirius, I’m getting really worried for you. Please, come back? I promise I’m not angry.”
“I can see you grinding your teeth.” Remus grimaces but then eventually smiles in surrender. Sirius can be very convincing without any animalistic forms.
“Yes, because you are annoying,” His voice is utterly soft, “but I love you just like that. Will you come to me?”
Sirius narrows his eyes and cocks an eyebrow which instantly causes Remus to chuckle, along with a feeling of gushing love inside him.
“Okay, I’m coming.” He takes his hand and jumps inside to wrap his arms around Remus who immediately holds him in his embrace. Due to the height difference, Sirius stands on his tiptoes to hug him so the latter boy scoops his legs up to wrap around his waist and Sirius wastes no time to comply.
“I’m sorry, love…” Remus nuzzles his head in his hair.
“It’s okay, I know you’re not feeling good. The moon…” Sirius' voice is tired and low. It is always surprising to see his bottomless patience for Remus’ condition, considering how much edgy he can be otherwise.
“Hey…” Remus makes them sit on the nearest bed. Sirius completely sits on his lap with his legs tied around him, and his hands laced around his neck. He looks so small, and Remus doesn’t want to see his sadness. After a long drag of silence and relishing each other with feather-light touches and kisses, Sirius whispers in his skin.
“Why can’t you let me have you?”
“I’m right here. You have me.” Remus whispers back with his lips still lingering on his cheeks.
“Completely…Moony…” The voice breaks his heart, and he looks up at Sirius' hurting eyes.
“Sirius, this is not a joke.”
“Moony, I don’t take you as a joke in my life. Not even in the slightest.”
“You don’t realize how dangerous it is.”
“Then make me!” And Remus winces but doesn’t leave his grip on Sirius’ waist, “I want you all. I…I like it that way…” The last words hang awkwardly in the air with Sirius blushing like he has tomatoes beneath his cheeks.
“You are not serious, are you?” Remus lets out a hollow laugh.
“Yes, Moony, I’m serious about this.” He is frozen because Sirius’ eyes scream nothing but the truth, and most importantly he has completely missed the pun.
“You are…” He stutters but Sirius cuts him off.
“Yes. I want to be with you in every part, Remus. You lose control? I don’t care! I want you to be the most honest version of yourself. I want to love you more. I fell in love with your rawness, your scars, and your real self. I want you to lose control.” Sirius rocks him and tightens his grip on his neck, and Remus closes his eyes, “I want to have you in the most Remus way. Your way. Just you. All of you.”
Remus inhales the scent of Sirius that is beginning to saturate around him, enveloping him in the haze of his soul and body. He feels lightheaded with the softest sensation of certain lips brushing his neck and jaw. A shiver runs down his body, and a whimper comes out of his mouth.
“Sirius, you…can’t…you are…please, no…” Because Sirius cannot understand this.
“Moony, it’s okay.” Lips still roaming dangerously at the back of his ear.
“No, it’s not!” Remus snaps, causing Sirius to flinch, and instantly he feels terrible. He immediately rests in hand back on Sirius’, “Please, don’t be disappointed in me…Merlin, I can’t hurt you, Sirius.” His free hand travels up to hold the other boy’s face which looks as gloomy as death, “I just love you too much for that…you can’t ask me to ruin you! You can’t ask me to fuck you like an animal! I know I’m not enough for you—“
“No! You are more than enough, Remus!” Sirius pleads with eyes that were at the brink of spilling tears.
“Sirius…” Remus sighs, not leaving his grip on Sirius’ hand. The silence fills them up again. His eyes wander around the dimly emitted dorm, then to the opened window where an almost full moon peeks out like a thundering reminder. Sirius looks down at their hands but stays quiet…pretty much tired. He looks exhausted. Remus shakes their hands for him to look up and he forces a smile on his tightly pressed lips.
“I’m not asking you to break me,” Sirius speaks lowly after a while, “I’m asking you to be yourself. Is that too much to ask?”
“Myself is not pretty to encounter, Sirius.”
“You think I need you to be pretty? You think I would want you fancy and sparkly? I don’t expect perfection from you because I know you have millions of flaws and imperfections, and fuck I fell in love with all of those! Call me sick or downright stupid, but it is the truth. You being a werewolf is something that the Marauders know, and that makes us feel honored and so so special to know that part of you. That you allowed us to know that part of yourself. Is it a beautiful part to you? No. But is it a beautiful part to me? Yes! I cannot disgust you because this was never in your hands. You were given this! Worse or best, but it is you. And I love you. I love that part of you. I’m so sorry that you got what no one would ever even wish upon their enemy, but that doesn’t make me want to hate that part of you. I love you whole.”
He reaches forward to put both of his hands on Remus’ face to wipe away the flooding tears, which is when Remus realizes that he is crying. The realization hits him like an iceberg and sobs erupt from him. Sirius wastes no time to quickly hold him against his chest as he keeps rubbing his back.
“Listen, you are not ready, and it’s okay my love,” Sirius brings in mouth closer to Remus’ ear, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to hold back your urges. You don’t have to hold back anything. I want to let you know completely and soundly that I’d do anything for you to make you feel yourself. This is what I feel about you. I hope you understand this, truly, but tell me if you still don’t I’ll try my best to open up more to you. But at the same time, open up to me, too. Be with me, for real.” He emphasizes each of his words, and Remus nods in his chest.
He pulls himself back to look at Sirius’s face. His hands trace his perfect face with careful eyes and he realizes that he fell in love with the real Sirius Black. He knows that his boyfriend has different images for other people which mainly rules by arrogance and reserved personality. However, with Remus, he is a totally different person, the happiest and calmest he has ever seen.
“I love you, too.” It comes out in a wavering voice, and Sirius smiles genuinely, “You already opened up to me, you, perfect git.” He nudges his elbow in his ribs, making him laugh, “You wouldn’t…care…if I…you know…”
“Lose control?” Sirius suggests with tenderness in his voice which causes Remus to shudder. He nods at him tentatively.
“No, Moony. My love for you will never lessen because of that. I want you this way. I want to see you this way. Your way. Just don’t hold back. I am here. Always will be.” He turns his face just a fraction to plant a kiss on Remus’ hand that was holding his face.
“Okay…okay…” He swallows and feels damp with cold sweating. His palms are sweating too against Sirius’ face but he brushes off the thought and braces himself to take that mask off. It feels like tearing down his skins. It is like more than being naked. He leans in and kisses him hesitantly but Sirius complies with firm lips and eager hands. And Remus relaxes, deepening the kiss. His head feels fuzzy, his fingers are altering to the warmth of Sirius’ bareback, and his legs are wrapping round his waist as if they are returning to the place they belong. He is melting in his body.
It doesn’t take long when the swooning is over, and the urge to get the upper hand on their intimate connection grows on Remus. His hands slide down from their intertwined hands to hold Sirius’ wrist. He uses his weight as leverage to push him on the bed, and dive in to kiss his neck. He also realizes that Sirius is loud as he groans and moans on the tiniest touches. Remus doubts that they will get through this. He gets on all fours with a flushed Sirius beneath him. He sees his face is glowing like pearls that speak nothing but reassurance.
“It’s okay, love. It’s alright, Moony.” He whispers and gets up to reach Remus’ mouth. When they share a languid kiss, Remus decides that it is going to be okay. It is going to be alright.
#wolfstar fanfiction#wolfstar#wolfstarendgame#established wolfstar#wolfstar supremacy#wolfstar angst#wolfstar happy ending#hp marauders#marauders era#sirius x remus#remus x sirius#sirius black#werewolf remus#remus lupin#sirius loves remus#hogwarts#james potter#james x lily#lily evans#peter pettigrew#marlene mckinnon#wolfstar fluff
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
For @drarrymicrofic
Prompt: First Time (am I late?)
Words: 3 238 (micro lol)
He woke up at the sound of people arguing. He couldn’t make out much though. Pain was coursing through his entire body. His head in particular.
He felt someone moving by his side and soon after the pain began to fade away.
"You have to leave. I'll come back later to inform you of his condition but right now I need to take care of my patient."
"I have been waiting for twenty hours. Twenty hours! You had plenty of time to inform me. So if you want me to leave this room you will have to give me answers, and satisfying ones. Otherwise you can be sure I'll be in your way until I lose it and finally strangle you!"
He opened his eyes. He saw two men in front of him. The one with the white coat and tired and disapproving look was obviously a doctor. The other one was tall with short blond hair and a very classy suit. The doctor noticed that he was awake and gave the other man an even more disapproving look.
"Mr Potter, I apologize for the noise. I'll lead Mr Malfoy to the exit and be back for you."
But the so-called Mr Malfoy was already by his side: "How do you feel?"
He looked at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out what was going on: "I'm fine but who are you?"
The man raised an eyebrow and gave him a look of pure confusion.
The doctor sighed: "That is precisely why I wanted to speak to you before allowing you to see him... Mr Potter, you had a serious accident. We believe that the trauma on your head may have resulted in a partial, if not total, memory loss."
He paused, allowing the two men in front of him to assimilate his words.
"Can you tell us what you remember?"
He opened his mouth to answer. But the words didn't come and he closed it. He couldn't think of anything. It was not really a blank. He felt as if the memories were right there but as soon as he wanted to grab one, it eluded.
Feeling his confusion, the doctor tried to help him: "Can you tell us your name?"
That should have been easy. But again, it slipped away. So, in embarrassment, he replied: "You called me Mr Potter."
The man at his side snorted and with a cold and most unpleasant voice he hurled: "If this is a joke, you'd better put an end to this because it really doesn't amuse me and you might not like the consequences."
He started to feel irritated by the way this man was behaving. He was arrogant and presumptuous, nothing very likable.
"I'm afraid this is no joke… Sir, your name is Harry Potter, you are 34 years old, you work as an Auror and were injured on duty. The man by your side is your husband. " He paused, aware of the awkwardness of the situation. "Now rest assured we will do everything to assist you in your recovery. There are many ways to help people suffering from amnesia. But for the moment, you need to rest. Mr Malfoy, please follow me."
Harry had felt a wave of horror when the doctor had told him that this tall blond man was his husband. He had never imagined he could be someone so close. If this man was sharing his life, how could he feel nothing looking at him? How could he not remember his name? Then he realised he couldn't even remember his own name. He looked into Mr Malfoy's eyes and saw a reflection of his own shock and fear. But the blond man said nothing as he slowly got up and followed the doctor, leaving him all alone with his thoughts and his fleeing memories.
***********************************************************************
The couple had just left. Hermione and Ron they called themselves. They seemed really nice. He was glad to know he had friends like that. They told him a lot about his life. The life of the Boy who lived, twice. Three times now, they said as a joke. But their laughter never reached their eyes.
Everything seemed so unreal, as if he were told the story of someone else. He, the hero who saved the world? Really?
He asked them about his husband as well. Draco Malfoy. There was a very awkward silence before Hermione started to share the story of the young boy, raised in a pure blood family, son of the closest ally to the one who killed his parents. They told him plenty about their rivalry at school and his difficult position during the war. Not so much about how they ended up together. He didn't insist. It was already a lot to process. He was exhausted.
He woke up an hour later when his husband entered the room. The man saw his sleepy face and offered to come back later but Harry declined. He was uncomfortable when Malfoy was around. That man was his husband but didn't behave that way. Not once had he made an affectionate gesture, nor told him he loved him, nor called him by a nickname. He didn’t even smile at him. He was distant but also embarrassed and Harry couldn't blame him for that.
This time he came with a bag from which he took what looked like a large and heavy book.
"The doctor suggested that pictures could help. We never really took time to create a proper album so I tried to gather a few pics…"
He looked exhausted, his eyes were red and his shirt was creased.
He sat on the chair by his side and dropped the album on his knees. Harry stared at the cover with apprehension. It was one thing to hear his story from the mouths of others, it was another to see images of himself living a life he couldn't remember.
He took a deep breath and opened it.
The first photo he saw was one of a couple dancing near a fountain.
"These are your parents. Don't bother trying to remember them, you were one when they died. I thought you might want to know what they looked like though."
He had shifty eyes and seemed even more uncomfortable than usual. Harry didn't comment and listened to his explanations as he browsed through pictures of his parents, their friends, his godfather. Eventually he started to see pictures of him, as a young boy with a young Ron and a young Hermione. Him with other friends. Malfoy even added some articles from the newspaper. And as he turned the pages he saw himself becoming older. He saw himself with a baby making his first steps. His godson apparently. He saw himself at Hermione and Ron's wedding. Then himself holding another baby. Rose he said, his friends' daughter.
As time passed he was less and less talkative. But Harry didn't mind. He didn't need more, that was already a huge amount of information to assimilate. It was hard to accept that the young man with messy dark hair in those pictures was himself.
Soon after he started to see pictures of him and Malfoy. And his husband fell completely silent. There was a picture of Malfoy rolling his eyes in some restaurant, a picture of him struggling with a tie, fancy-dressed for some occasion, a picture of the two of them at Christmas where he was watching Malfoy unwrapping a present, a loving smile on his face.
He paused a long time at the sight of him in a prestigious black and gold wizard dress, Malfoy by his side in full white and silver, flowers falling all over them. Malfoy was whispering something in his ear, making him laugh out loud. They seemed genuinely happy, both of them.
He glanced at Malfoy but the man was looking somewhere else, his jaw clenched. Harry felt sad and a bit angry. None of these pictures were bringing any memory, not any emotion, not even a vague feeling of déjà-vu. He could only imagine his husband's disappointment.
He kept browsing through the pictures of his wedding, hoping one of them would trigger something. There were pictures of them in an exotic country, on a white sand beach. More Christmas. A picture of him holding another baby. A picture of his husband holding that same baby. And more and more pictures of this baby, turning into a white blond hair child, always smiling from ear to ear. He felt a shudder of horror crawling down his spine as he turned the pages and kept seeing that kid playing with him, hugging him.
Unable to continue, he put the book down.
"Malfoy…” He took a deep breath, shivering “Draco?"
As he called him by his first name for the first time since he woke up, his husband turned his head slowly to face him, demons in the eyes.
"Do we… Do we have a child?"
Draco didn't answer right away. First he leaned down to turn a new page of the book, revealing the picture of them with the young boy holding a tiny baby the best he could, his smile wider than ever.
"Two actually…"
Silence fell as Harry froze. He felt nauseous. How could he? How could he forget something that important, forget that he was a father, that he had a family?
He stared at his husband, hoping for an impossible answer.
Draco tried to explain, his voice broken:
"I didn't know how to tell you… I'm sorry."
And he burst into tears.
And for the first time he saw that proud, lordly man in all his vulnerability. For the first time, what was a mask finally fell down.
He squeezed his arm, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as the tears kept falling down.
A weird thought crossed his mind. He surprised himself thinking of a bathroom and leaking water, of coldness and red blood running on white tiles. Definitely not an appropriate thought for the situation, so he pushed it away.
***********************************************************************
Harry was waiting in front of the main chimney. Draco came toward him, showing a file in his hand:
"All done! Are you ready?"
Harry breathed deeply; he was not ready, he was terrified.
"No, but I don't think I'll ever be."
Draco grabbed a pot filled with floo powder before handing it to his husband:
"I told you everything you need to know. Even if you miss a few things, they'll forgive you. They know about your accident and they are so eager to see you that details won't matter."
Harry nodded and grabbed a handful of the green powder before entering the chimney. He gave a last look at his husband and gathered all his courage to yell the address Draco gave him before dropping the powder.
The first thing he noticed when exiting the floo was the smell. A complex mix of wood, coffee, hot bread, lemon, herbs and so many things indescribable. But a somehow very familiar smell. He knew that scent. He knew it so much it moved him. It was linked with a feeling of safety, of love and happiness. It reminded him of relief when coming back from work, busy mornings, animated lunch… it smelled like home.
Draco joined him right before a tiny blond storm rushed toward him, yelling:
"DADDYYYYYYY"
Unconsciously, Harry kneeled down and opened his arms, catching his son and hugging him tight. The boy started to cry and Harry felt overwhelmed. A few tears rolled down his cheek as he realised that for the time he understood, deeply understood that the story people had told him was true. This was his home, this was his child. He may not remember everything but he knew all this was part of his life.
He raised his head and noticed a little boy hiding behind Draco's leg. He moved an arm to invite him to join the hug but the child didn't move. With a very small voice he asked:
"Are you still my daddy if you can't remember me?"
The question hit him like a punch in the stomach. Draco had warned him. Albus didn't talk much but when he did he always surprised them with a maturity way too advanced for his age. He tried to compose himself and answered:
"I may not remember everything, I may have forgotten the day you were born, your first words, your first steps... but nothing, you hear me, nothing will ever stop me from being your father. I am still here and we'll make new memories together, I swear." His voice broke. It wasn't fair. A child shouldn't question his father's love. Especially not his own child.
Slowly, one tiny step after another, Albus reached for his father, hugged him and grabbed his t-shirt so tight, Harry felt as if it was his heart that was squeezed by this tiny hand. He suddenly remembered staying up all night, trying to soothe a terrified baby Albus holding his finger as if his life depended on it while a thunderstorm was shaking the windows.
Finally, he thought. It wasn't much but it was a start.
***********************************************************************
Harry was enjoying a glass of firewhisky in front of the fireplace when Draco came in, poured himself a glass and sat by his side on the sofa, obviously exhausted.
"Two hours later, they are finally asleep!"
Harry giggled softly:
"I could have done it, you know. It really doesn't bother me."
Draco frowned.
"Of that I have no doubt. But it's been weeks since you came home and it's time they accept being tucked in by their other father."
Harry smiled but didn't answer. Draco was right of course, but he really liked sharing that moment with his two sons.
His husband suddenly stood up and took a letter from the coffee table.
"The minister asked me to give you this. They want you to come back to work quickly. Again. I don't understand how they can harass you like that after what happened. What would it take for them to give you a break? You losing an arm?!"
He sat down on the couch and emptied the glass in a single shot.
Harry didn't even bother to open the letter. He made it fly directly to the fireplace. His husband raised an eyebrow, silently asking for an explanation.
"I'll answer by telling them that I quit. That should calm them down."
Draco couldn't hide his surprise.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I certainly had very good reasons to do this job but I think I've done more than my part. It's time I get a bit more selfish and focus on myself."
"So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know yet… something far less dangerous, that's for sure."
They fell silent as they both watched the flames devouring the paper. Draco was obviously concerned but Harry gave him time to put the right words on his feelings. When he finally spoke, Draco avoided his eyes, like he did when he felt vulnerable.
"If you ever want to ask for divorce I would understand… All the reasons you married me probably disappeared with the rest of your memories."
Harry couldn't help but smile and took a sip of his drink before answering.
"You know when I first woke up, I thought that you were an arrogant little prat."
His smile widened when he saw a faint blush on Draco's cheeks.
"Then I realized that there was more to you than met the eye. Every passing day I understand a little more why I married you in the first place. It would be a shame to end things now, don't you think?"
His husband didn't answer right away and Harry added, suddenly more serious:
"That is if you want to give it a try as well. After all, I probably changed and I may not be the man you married anymore."
Draco took a few seconds to consider the matter, his eyes lost in the dancing flames of their chimney.
"You did change. You seem more… peaceful. I guess some memories are best forgotten."
He stopped and Harry turned toward him, his arm laying on the back of the sofa.
"You didn't answer the question."
Draco smirked and Harry noticed that he really liked the curve it gave to his thin lips when he did so.
"In sickness and health. Those were my vows. And I still remember them. Sure I wasn't expecting amnesia but I still knew that with you it was far from being empty words."
He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something else but closed it as he changed his mind.
Harry exhorted him to keep going.
"But?"
Draco bit his lips and stared at his empty glass.
"No but. I still want to believe in us. It's just… complicated. In the beginning I felt as if you were a complete stranger. Almost as if my husband was dead and his body was being possessed. And yet sometimes you do or say something and I feel like nothing ever happened. The weirdest part is that it makes me feel… guilty. Almost as if I was cheating on my husband with you." He paused and nervously tapped his glass with his long fingers. "Sorry, that's ridiculous."
Harry smiled tenderly. There was something about Draco's vulnerability that was touching and addicting. The fact that he chose to expose himself to him and only him was the only thing really making him feel like the Chosen One.
"It's not ridiculous. I myself am struggling to make a connection between who I am and who I was." He added with amusement:
"You know what's ridiculous? The links my brain makes sometimes! I mean, the smell of wet grass makes me think of Quidditch games with Scorpius. OK, I get it. I must have played with him many times while it was rainy. The smell of your shampoo under the shower makes me horny. I think I can get that one too. But why on earth would I think of cinnamon cookies when I see you smile?"
And to his greatest surprise, Draco burst into laughter. A real, uncontrolled laugh, brightening every cell of his face. For the first time since he woke up, Draco let go of the fears, the doubts and the sorrows, only to fully embrace the moment. And he was gorgeous that way.
Draco bit his bottom lip to regain control and explained with a mischievous smile: " Well I may have tried something called positive reinforcement to make you like me when we both started working for the minister. But damn, I didn't know it worked that well."
Harry didn't listen, still mesmerized by Draco's smile. He felt a sudden burst of heat as his heart missed a beat. The words left his lips before he could even understand them.
"I think I'm falling in love with you again."
He almost regretted his words when Draco's smile froze. But then a small blush colored his husband's cheeks and as they closed the gap between them, nothing else mattered.
Their kiss was soft and shy. A light touch of their lips, asking for a permission to hope, slowly getting firmer as if to anchor the moment into reality.
It was far from being their first kiss, but it definitely felt like one.
64 notes
·
View notes