#i live laugh america angst | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

helioooss · 25 days ago

Text

fable

synopsis: minji and y/n are both from a conservative town - and end up falling for each other. days are spent sneaking around…longing for someplace they can be themselves.

w/c: 5k+

warning: homophobia, death, mostly internalised, swearing, drinking, kissing, having to hide who you really love sucks. just angst

a/n: okay, this is important. as per recent events, and the sole reason why i’m publishing this now: i will not be continuing this story as it just feels like a fever dream to write about women loving other women - specifically (and surprisingly) in a country like america, where this is set. as of right now, there will be no part two.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

rhodes was a quiet country town, one where the land stretched out wide and the houses were all spaced apart, each standing tall with big porches and rocking chairs that creaked with the passing winds.

folks around here lived simply; big families, old traditions, and everyone knowing each other’s business, even when you’d rather they didn’t. the only real landmarks were the towering silos, murphy’s diner and the stretch of farmland that seemed endless.

most of your afternoons were spent in your pa’s garage, under the hood of a truck or fixing up your old dirt bike. you had an affinity for engines, grease-streaked hands and the rhythm of mechanical work that required no words, just understanding. keeping to yourself mostly, you were content with the company of horses, the comfort of solitude and the occasional bonfire with your old man.

it was just him and you, after all.

then there was minji. she was as close to royalty as you’d get around here. your family lived in a modest house with a big porch that overlooked acres of field. across from you was her family estate — a sprawling place with manicured gardens, stables, and a wrap-around porch that seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see. their cars were sleek and pristine (except for the old bastard her dad loved driving around), it was the kind of place people would point out as if it were a tourist attraction.

more than that, she had a charm that seemed to light up every room she walked into.

since you could remember, the two of you always walked to school together even though you didn’t really know her. it was a quiet, unspoken arrangement that had developed over the years, when parents told you to look out for each other.

conversations were rare; she was usually scrolling through her phone or listening to music through one earbud while you kept your gaze on the gravel road, hands in your pockets. you never questioned it and she never acknowledged it, but somehow, every morning, she’d be waiting at the end of her driveway and the two of you would fall into step.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the first time you really looked at minji was a fall morning in junior year and she was standing under the maple tree at the end of her driveway — her hair catching the early light, eyes focused on some distant point beyond the fields.

she looked so serene, so out of place in the rough simplicity of rhodes and you couldn’t shake the feeling that she was something special; someone you wanted to know, even if you never could.

but people like her weren’t meant for people like you — so you kept your head down and fell into step beside her as usual.

and you were okay with that.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

until one day, she surprised you by initiating a conversation as you walked down the familiar road to school.

“you know, you’re kinda mysterious,” she said, her voice teasing but curious. “you don’t ever talk, even at school.”

you looked at her, caught off guard. “me? i think i’m just quiet.”

she laughed, a sound that made something in your chest tighten. “no, it’s more than that. you’re like…really the silent type.”

you shrugged, not really knowing what to say. words weren’t your strong suit; you were more at ease with tools and machines than with people.

however, there was something about her that made you want to try.

over the next few weeks, you found yourself talking to her more. she would start conversations; it was mostly small things — questions about school, comments about the weather, a shared laugh at the antics of the local town characters.

however, each word, each moment felt significant, like you were building something fragile and precious between you.

“so, what’s your favourite song right now?” she asked, a big grin plastered on her face as she kicked pebbles ahead of you.

you thought about your answer, humming. “my pa’s always singing bruce springteen, so probably one of his songs.”

she clapped in excitement, turning to you. “so does mine, which song?”

“y’know, i’m on fire — a classic,” you rubbed your nape, feeling small under her gaze. “but when we’re at murphy’s, he plays rocket man on the juke.”

“but what do you like? imagine we were at the diner right now, what would you sing?”

“well, right now, i’ve been humming to i remember everything; zach bryan.”

she nodded, satisfied. “good choice - i’ll listen to that tonight and think of you.”

and then one morning, you found her waiting by the fence at the end of her driveway, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger as she stared out over the misty fields.

you greeted her with a nod, falling into step beside her. “you look bored.”

“i always am,” she heaved out a sigh. “there’s nothing to do ‘round here.”

for a while, you walked in silence, the gravel crunching under your boots as she hummed a new tune. it was quite obvious that there was a lot going on in her mind, so you let her be.

“do you ever get tired of rhodes?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

you glanced over at her, surprised. “what do you mean?”

she shrugged, looking down at the road as she walked. “it just feels like…i don’t know. like i’m supposed to be somewhere else. somewhere bigger.”

you considered her words, feeling the pull of her restless energy. “you mean the city?”

“maybe,” she murmured. “somewhere with more people, more things to do. sometimes i feel like i don’t fit here, you know?”

you nodded, though your own feelings were mixed. it was predictable yet comforting in its own way. yet you could understand her need for more, her desire to break free of the small-town expectations that kept people in their places. “what would you do?”

“law, music; anything to get out of here,” she said without hesitation, her eyes lighting up. “it’s silly.”

“it’s not silly,” you replied softly, surprised by the passion in her voice. “it’s brave.”

she laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in it. “i don’t feel very brave. i mean, look at me. all i do is cheer and go to parties and pretend i’m happy with all of this.”

you didn’t know what to say. she had always seemed so confident, so sure of her place in the world. seeing her like this, vulnerable and unsure, made you feel closer to her in a way you hadn’t expected.

“well,” you said finally, keeping your voice light, “if you ever want a ride out of this place, i’ll let you borrow one of my pa’s a hundred trucks someday.”

she glanced at you, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “you’d really let me borrow those precious trucks?”

“maybe,” you said, pretending to think it over. “as long as you promise the old boy not to crash it.”

she laughed, the sound filling the air around you, and for a moment, the tension melted away, replaced by something easy and warm.

yet deep down you knew, she was going to leave one day.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it was a chilly afternoon at school and you were leaning against the wall outside your classroom just waiting for the bell to ring.

you’ve got your hands in your pockets, watching the last leaves fall from the trees outside. the day has been long, filled with the usual classes and quiet looks exchanged with minji as she passed you in the halls. she always offered a small, secret smile — a reminder of the connection the two of you were quietly building.

you were lost in your thoughts amongst the crowd when a shadow loomed over you.

taehyung, one of the football players, all swagger and confidence as he stands a little too close, sizing you up like you’re beneath him. you’d fixed his car a few times before; his dad’s an old friend of your uncle’s and he would stop by the garage a handful of times, always with that same arrogant smirk.

“hey y/n,” he began, crossing his arms over his chest. “i need you to look at my car again. it’s making this weird noise, and i don’t have time to deal with it.”

you raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his tone. “when’s it making the noise?”

he shrugged, as if your question was pointless. “i don’t know. all the time, i guess. you’re the one who’s supposed to know about these things, right?”

prick.

you bit back a retort, reminding yourself that this is just how he talked. besides, fixing cars wasn’t just a job to you; it was something you enjoyed. “bring it by the garage after school. i’ll take a look.”

he didn’t say thank you, didn’t even acknowledge your offer to help. instead, he scoffed, looking at you like you were a servant he summoned. “good. i’ll swing by later. and don’t keep me waiting, alright? i got football early.”

before you could respond, another voice cut in. it was minji; and she didn’t look too impressed.

“excuse me,” she said, her tone icy and uncharacteristically sharp. she was standing just a few feet away, glaring at him with a look you’ve never seen on her before. “is that how you talk to people who are helping you?”

he turned to her, surprised, then chuckled, clearly amused. “oh hey, minji. didn’t see you there.”

“obviously,” she snapped, taking a step closer. “because if you had, you might have remembered that it’s rude to treat people like they owe you something.”

he seemed taken aback, clearly not used to being called out, especially not by someone like her. “what’s the big deal? it’s just y/n. she’s used to this kinda stuff.”

“just y/n?” she repeated, her voice growing colder. “y/n’s doing you a favour. the least you could do is show a little respect.”

you stood there, stunned, not used to seeing minji like this; fierce and protective. part of you wanted to pull her back, tell her it was all good, but the other part is quietly grateful for the way she was standing up for you.

he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. “whatever, minji. i don’t get why you’re so worked up over this.”

“because it’s common decency, taehyung,” she said firmly. “and maybe you should try it sometime.”

the tension hung heavy in the air, a standoff between the most powerful kids in town as a few students nearby glanced over, was a rare event to watch.

“fine,” he muttered, barely meeting your gaze. “thanks for, uh, looking at the car — i guess.”

it was a half-hearted apology, but you took it, nodding slightly. “no problem.”

with one last glare at her, taehyung stalked off, muttering under his breath. as soon as he was out of earshot, she turned to you, her expression softening, worry flickering in her eyes.

“sorry if i overstepped,” she said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “it just…he shouldn’t talk to you like that.”

you sent her a small smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. “thanks, you didn’t have to do that.”

she shrugged, but there was a softness to her gaze that made your heart skip a beat. “maybe not. but i wanted to. you’re too nice sometimes, you know?”

you laughed, glancing down, feeling a little shy under her stare. “guess i just don’t see the point in getting worked up over guys like him.”

“well, maybe you should,” she said, her tone teasing. “or you could just let me get worked up for you.”

“i’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckled, trying to ignore the way her words made you feel.

for a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you in a way that felt natural. then minji looked around, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“wanna skip the rest of the day?”

you raised an eyebrow. “skip school? miss ‘perfect attendance’ minji wants to cut class?”

she laughed, her smile wide and free. “just this once. come on, let’s go into into town.”

you hesitated, glancing back at the school, but the look in her eyes was too tempting to resist. with a grin, you nodded, gesturing towards the main door. “alright, then. let’s stop by murphy’s.”

skipping class wasn’t something either of you did often, but today felt different — a small rebellion that felt like it belonged to you and her alone.

the two of you walked in comfortable silence down main street, minji bumping her shoulder playfully against yours every so often. the breeze danced the leaves around, the occasional folks passing by and giving you questionable looks - you didn’t say much, but the unspoken ease said more than words could.

after a few blocks, you found yourselves standing outside murphy’s diner, the familiar chipping paint and neon sign buzzing quietly in the afternoon light.

you held open the door, nodding for her to go in first. “after you, punk.”

she laughed, shaking her head as she stepped inside. “i should be saying that to you, you’re the bad influence here.”

“i think it’s mutual at this point,” you replied with a grin, following her into the diner.

the place was nearly empty, save for a couple of regulars at the counter and murphy himself, looking half-asleep behind the cash register. he perked up slightly when he saw you both, adjusting his stained apron and giving you a nod of acknowledgment.

“hey kids,” murphy called out, not quite smiling but his eyes crinkling in what could pass as friendly. “what brings you in here on a school day?”

“just felt like a change of scenery,” minji answered, sliding into a booth by the window. she glanced at you, a mischievous spark in her eyes. “thought we’d come sample your famous pie.”

he snorted, crossing his arms. “famous, huh? that what they’re calling it now?”

“sure is,” you said, grinning as you took a seat across from her. “heard you’ve got some new ‘experimental’ flavours going on. i might be feeling brave today.”

“i’d rethink that if i were you, your pa’s guts couldn’t even handle it,” he replied, one eyebrow raised. “but i’ll get you both a slice of the apple. can’t go wrong with the classic.”

as he shuffled off to the kitchen, minji leaned across the table, resting her chin in her hands. “you come here a lot, huh?”

you nodded, looking around the diner with a sense of quiet fondness. “yeah. it’s kinda like…i don’t know. a second home, almost. it’s pa’s favourite place in the world — him and murph go way back.”

she smiled, her gaze softening. “i can see that. i used to come here with my mum when i was little. she’d always get me one of those gigantic milkshakes, and then i’d feel sick for hours afterward.”

“so nothing’s changed,” you teased, and she laughed, rolling her eyes.

“not true. now i can handle my milkshakes without the regret,” she looked around, taking in the retro red booths, the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner and the small posters lining the walls. “it’s got that old charm to it, you know? like it’s been here forever.”

“probably has,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t listening in. “murphy’s just as much a part of this place as the food is.”

she laughed, shaking her head. “and his infamous temper. last time i was in here, i saw him argue with some poor guy over how much sugar he was putting in his coffee.”

“sounds about right,” you said, chuckling. “you know, i think he’s convinced he’s running some kind of fine dining establishment.”

“let him dream,” she replied with a grin. “it makes this place more interesting.”

murphy came back a moment later, setting down two plates in front of you, each with a thick slice of pie that steamed slightly, the golden crust flaking off at the edges.

“your pa know you cut classes now, y/n?” he sent you a funny look, one that made you gulp. “you in luck, i keep secrets to m’self these days.”

“thanks murph,” you smiled as minji tried to suppress her laughter.

he poured you each a cup of coffee without asking, grumbling under his breath about “kids these days” before disappearing back behind the counter.

she picked up her fork, cutting into the pie and taking a tentative bite. her eyes widened, and she made a small noise of approval. “okay, i’ll admit, this is actually pretty good.”

you took a bite as well, nodding in agreement. “he’s a little eccentric but the man knows how to make a pie.”

she glanced over at murphy, who was pretending not to watch you both from the corner of his eye. “maybe we should give him some credit.”

“don’t let him hear you say that,” you warned, keeping your voice low. “next thing you know, he’ll be charging ‘gourmet’ prices.”

she laughed, covering her mouth, and for a moment, everything felt easy and light, like the two of you were just regular kids, free from the weight of expectations or small-town gossip.

you watched her laugh, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners, and felt an overwhelming sense of warmth in your chest.

“so, what else do you do around here?” she asked, leaning back in the booth and sipping her coffee, eyes fixed on you with genuine interest. “besides fixing trucks.”

“not much, honestly,” you admitted, shrugging. “sometimes i’ll go out riding horses. there’s this trail out by the woods that’s perfect for it.”

“do you actually?”

“yeah,” you replied, a little surprised by her excitement. “my family’s got a few. i’ve been riding since i was a kid, how have you not seen our horses?”

“i guess i never noticed,” she said, sounding almost awestruck. “i always wanted to learn, but mum was convinced i’d end up falling off and breaking something.”

you chuckled, picturing a young minji, her eyes bright with excitement. “it’s not that dangerous, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

“well, i wouldn’t know what i’m doing, so there’s that,” she replied, laughing. “maybe someday you could…teach me?”

the question caught you off guard, but you nodded, trying to keep your voice casual. “yeah, sure. we could go sometime. i’d love to show you.”

a comfortable silence settled between you as you both finished your pie, stealing glances out the window at the quiet town beyond. it was strange, this sense of peace you felt around her, like you could share anything and it would feel normal.

after a while, she sighed, setting down her fork and looking at you thoughtfully. “thanks for bringing me here. i feel like i’m seeing this town in a new way, you know?”

“happy to share it with you,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “you make it feel different too.

minji’s cheeks flushed a little, but she didn’t look away. instead, she just smiled as you both let the quiet settle in again, savouring the feeling of being together.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

one weekend, like you had promised, you led minji toward the stables; showing her around the fields and introducing her to the horses. she was practically bouncing with excitement, taking everything in with curious eyes.

she’d been asking about the horses ever since you’d told her about them back at murphy’s, and today, she’d finally convinced you to let her come by to meet them.

“they’re even bigger up close,” she said, her voice filled with awe as she reached out, hesitating just a moment before brushing her fingers over the soft nose of your favourite horse, duke.

you grinned, patting duke on the neck. “he’s a gentle giant, aren’t you, buddy?”

duke gave a soft snort, leaning into your touch and her face lit up with a smile that made something warm bloom in your chest.

“can i feed him?” she asked, glancing at you for approval.

“sure,” you replied, grabbing a couple of carrots from the feed bucket nearby. “just keep your hand flat and he’ll be careful.”

she took the carrot, holding it out with her hand as you instructed and giggled as duke’s soft muzzle tickled her palm. “oh my god, he’s so sweet!”

“yeah, he’s a good boy,” you said, watching her with a fond smile.

seeing her here, surrounded by the horses and the familiar quiet of the stables, felt strangely right, as if she’d always belonged.

as she moved on to pet one of the other horses, you heard footsteps coming up behind you. turning, you saw your dad strolling into the stables, wiping his greasy hands on an old rag.

he raised an eyebrow when he spotted minji, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“well, well, didn’t expect to see you bringing company out here, y/n,” he said, his gaze flicking from you to her with a look of pleasant surprise.

she turned, a bit flustered but quickly recovering with that bright smile of hers. “hi mr. l/n,” she greeted him, polite and cheerful as ever.

“minji,” he began, chuckling softly as he extended a hand, which she shook firmly. “heard a lot about you from your da. never thought i’d see you out here in the stables with y/n.”

“guess i just wanted to see the horses,” she responded, throwing a quick, slightly embarrassed glance at you. “she’s been telling me all about them.”

“did you now?” he gave you a knowing look, one that made you want to roll your eyes, but you held back. he’d always had that look in his eye whenever he saw you with friends, but this was different, he seemed more…amused.

“she’s never seen them ‘round, pa,” you laughed. “can you believe that?”

“well, make yourself at home,” he told her with a wink. “and darling, while you’re at it, i need you to run down to mrs. kim’s pet store later and pick up the order i put in. she’ll know what it is.”

“sure thing,” you replied, used to the occasional errand for him. “anything else?”

“and since you’ll be out, why don’t you stop by murphy’s and bring me one of those experimental pie slices too? been hearing a lot about his latest concoction.”

minji laughed, catching the joke. “are you sure you want to try it, mr. l/n? murphy’s experimental flavours can be…questionable.”

your dad chuckled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “that’s exactly why i want it. figure life’s more fun with a little culinary risk, right?”

“you sound like murphy,” you said, shaking your head. “can i take the ‘88?”

“yeah, well, maybe he’s onto something,” your dad replied with a grin, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “alright, you two have fun with the horses. don’t let her talk your ear off about their ‘good temperament,’ minji.”

you huffed. “you didn’t answer my question!”

“yeah, yeah, whatever - s’long as you keep minji impressed over here.”

you rolled your eyes as he walked away, a smirk on his face as he disappeared out the stable door, clearly amused by the whole situation.

“your dad seems nice,” she said, her voice soft, watching him go.

“he is,” you replied, a touch of pride in your voice. “he’s the one who taught me everything about taking care of these guys. treats them like family.”

“i can tell,” she said, her stare lingering on you with a look that made you feel both shy and a little flustered. “him and my dad drink in our garage sometimes.”

“talking about cars and engines, i bet.”

“when do they not?”

after a while, you finished up at the stables, promising minji that you’d let her come back to ride sometime soon. together, you walked down main street, heading toward mrs. kim’s pet store for your dad’s order.

when you pushed open the door to the shop, the familiar musty scent of birdseed and old carpet washed over you.

mrs. kim looked up from the counter, her ever-present scowl deepening when she saw you and minji step inside.

“what do you two want?” she barked, her voice sharp as ever. her parrot, archie, squawked in response, as if echoing her sentiment.

“just picking up an order for my pa,” you replied, unfazed by her grumpiness. “he said you’d have it ready?”

she grumbled something under her breath, shuffling off to the back room. archie, watching you intently, tilted his head and squawked again, “no freeloaders!”

mrs. kim had been running the pet store for as long as you could remember; she was infamous for her suspicion of teenagers and her tendency to talk to her parrot, archie, as if he were her business partner.

“archie’s in a good mood, i see,” minji whispered, fighting back a laugh.

“archie’s always in a ‘good’ mood,” you replied with a smirk. “he and mrs. kim are like two peas in a pod.”

“i heard that,” mrs. kim snapped from the back room, making both of you jump.

you shot minji a look, both of you trying not to laugh. a moment later, she returned with a small bag and set it on the counter, eyeing you suspiciously. “make sure your dad pays on time this time, y/n.”

“he always does — got the wrong person again, mrs. kim,” you replied, handing her a few bills as she huffed, muttering about “young folks” under her breath.

as you turned to leave, minji leaned over the counter, giving mrs. kim a bright smile. “thank you, mrs. kim! we’ll be back soon for more of archie’s wisdom.”

her scowl softened just a fraction, and she gave her a begrudging nod. “well, you better keep your hands off the merchandise if you do.”

“of course,” minji replied, her voice light, before giving archie a little wave. “bye, archie!”

archie bobbed his head, squawking one last time, “no freeloaders!”

the two of you finally left the store, stepping back onto the sunny sidewalk, both of you dissolving into laughter as soon as you were out of mrs. kim’s radar.

“i swear, she’s the grumpiest person i’ve ever met,” she said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “but i kind of love her.”

“i know,” you said, shaking your head. “town wouldn’t be the same without her, though. she keeps us all on our toes.”

“yeah,” she agreed, a soft smile on her face. “it’s kind of funny…i always talk about wanting to leave, but when i think about leaving people like mrs. kim or murphy behind, it actually makes me a little sad.”

you looked at her, surprised by the vulnerable admission. “you’ve been around them your whole life. it’d be weird not to have them around.”

“i know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “as much as i want to get out, sometimes i think about what i’d be leaving behind. like…like little pieces of myself are tied to this place.”

“maybe that’s what makes it home,” you said softly. “all these weird, wonderful people who make this place what it is.”

she looked at you, her expression thoughtful, and nodded. “yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“archie’s a character, too,” you added, switching back to a lighter conversation. “he’s probably the one keeping her in business.”

“definitely. everyone goes there just to see him, not her.”

“well, at least your dad knows how to keep life interesting,” she mumbled as the two of you strolled back toward murphy’s diner. “between ordering experimental pie and dealing with mrs. kim’s antics, i’d say he’s living his best life.”

you chuckled, feeling a warmth in your chest at the thought of your pa and the quirky charm of your small town. “yeah. he’s got it all figured out, i think.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the sun was just starting to set as you sat on the porch with your dad, the last light casting a warm glow over the fields. he rocked slowly in his chair, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked over at you.

“so…you and minji been spending a lot of time together, huh?” he asked, in that familiar teasing tone of his.

you rolled your eyes, trying to act unbothered. “we’re just hanging out. she’s nice, that’s all.”

“just nice?” he raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “funny, ‘cause from what i hear, you’ve been giving her the grand tour of rhodes and introducing her to all the horses and such. don’t usually do that with just anyone.”

heat crept up your neck. “it’s not like that,” you muttered, glancing away. “besides, nothing’s ever gonna happen. you know how this town is — everyone goes to church on sundays and thinks people like me are going to hell.”

he was quiet for a moment, letting your words settle between you.

you felt the weight of them, the ache that came with knowing this town had walls, even if they were invisible.

“and anyway,” you continued, barely above a whisper, “minji’s straight. she’s probably just being nice ‘cause she feels sorry for me or something.”

your dad shook his head, his eyes soft and understanding. “kid, that’s nonsense. i don’t think she’s the type to spend time with someone just ‘cause she feels sorry for ‘em. from what i can see, that girl genuinely likes being around you — her da says that too.”

“even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.” you sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation in your voice. “this town…it’s not like people here would ever accept it. i mean, they’re all so set in their ways, and they’ve known each other forever. they’d never understand.”

he sent a thoughtful nod. “you’re right that people here got their ways. but you know…folks talk, but they don’t talk bad. they care about family, about helping each other out. they got their beliefs, sure, but i don’t think they’d turn their backs on you; you’re family.”

you looked down, fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve. his words gave you a flicker of hope, though you weren’t quite sure if you believed him.

“and besides,” he added, a sly smile breaking through, “this isn’t about the town, is it? it’s about how you feel.”

“i know, but it doesn’t matter now. or ever. she’s too pretty, anyway.”

he leaned in, dropping his voice like he was sharing a secret. “so…you think she’s pretty, hey?”

you felt your face burn as you tried to stammer out a response, but before you could say anything, the sound of footsteps interrupted. you looked up, startled, and there she was — minji, standing just a few feet away with a shy smile, her eyes flicking between you and him.

“uh hey,” she said, clearly sensing she’d walked in on something. “i didn’t mean to interrupt, just thought i’d watch y/n work in the garage.”

it was nearly impossible to find your voice, too flustered to do anything but offer a small wave. your dad chuckled, his gaze bouncing from you to minji, and back again.

“well, speak of the devil,” he began, his voice full of that familiar warmth. “sweetheart, we were just talking about you.”

shooting him a look, you plead him to be quiet but the teasing glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t done yet.

she raised an eyebrow. “all good things?”

“y/n here was just saying how nice you are,” he continued, completely unfazed by your glare. “always good to see good folks spending time together.”

she smiled, her eyes catching yours for a brief second; something unreadable flickering in her gaze. “well, y/n, you’re pretty great company yourself.”

your pa just grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and gave you a little pat on the shoulder before he stood up. “i’ll leave you two to it, then.”

and with that, he strolled inside, whistling a tune, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to figure out what to say to the girl who had suddenly made everything feel so complicated.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the day minji returned to rhodes, the sky was heavy with the kind of grey clouds that seemed to hold a familiar quiet.

four years had slipped by since she’d left, the city pulling her away like a magnet, offering her a life she thought she wanted – or at least, a life she thought would make her forget. now, sitting in her da’s ‘72 chevy as he drove her back from the station, she felt the strange sense of both everything and nothing changing.

the truck rattled as they drove down the winding road that led into town, its worn seats and rusty interior a stark contrast to the sleek offices she was used to. it was only when she glanced down that she noticed the shiny new bolts in the dashboard, the hint of fresh paint.

“dad, did you fix the truck?” she asked, running her fingers along the smooth edge, noticing the little changes.

he chuckled, shaking his head. “i wish, y/n fixed it up. finally had the time to look under the hood,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice as he tapped the steering wheel. “opened up her own shop a year back. doing well, from what i see — helping me look after old girl here.”

she felt a twinge in her chest, an old, familiar ache she’d buried beneath years of work and distance. you. the girl who loved her in the quietest, fiercest way — the one she left behind. it was hard to picture you now, four years later, still here in the town that had once felt too small, too suffocating for her.

“she opened her own garage?” she repeated, trying to keep her voice casual, though her heart was pounding. the last she’d heard, you had been working odd jobs, fixing up trucks for people on the side, but she’d never imagined you actually staying, putting down roots here.

it didn’t quite make sense to her — you were keen on leaving, at some point.

“she did,” he nodded, his voice warm with the admiration he held for you. “that girl’s got talent and folks around here know it. opened the place up some years after her pa passed…not too long after you left, actually.”

the words hit her like a slap, sudden and jarring. “her dad…passed away?” she asked, barely able to get the words out. she felt a pang of guilt settle heavy in her stomach, a sick, sinking feeling that twisted through her. “what?”

he nodded, his expression softened with a sadness she hadn’t noticed before. “it was sudden. heart attack, coroner said. she was…well, she was left to handle things on her own. the town tried to help, but she didn’t really let anyone in. shut herself off, y’know?”

she stared at the passing landscape, her heart heavy with guilt and regret, memories surfacing of all the times she’d spent in their yard, watching you and your dad tinker with the trucks.

“sweetheart, tell your da to let that old girl rest,” he often joked, referring to the chevy. “and tell him to give it to me.”

he’d always had a way of making her feel like she belonged there, even though she was just a girl who’d wandered over too many times — looking for an excuse to be near you.

she could still remember his warm laugh as he handed her a sandwich, the smell of grilled cheese filling the air, sometimes even murphy’s pies, you rolling your eyes but smiling anyway as he fussed over them, asking if you’d had enough to eat, if you wanted something else.

she’d spent countless afternoons like that, sitting on the tailgate of an old truck, the three of you laughing and talking like a makeshift family.

and there were the stables, where your dad and her own had shown them the basics of horseback riding, teaching her how to hold the reins, how to stay calm. she could still hear his voice, patient and steady, guiding her through each step, his pride evident every time she got something right.

those moments had felt like a small slice of paradise, a simplicity and warmth that she hadn’t appreciated enough at the time.

now, the weight of her absence settled over her, a hollow ache that grew with each memory. “why didn’t anyone tell me?” she asked, her voice trembling with frustration. “i would’ve…i would’ve come back…or done something.”

her da heaved a sigh, his expression sad but understanding. “darling, it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to bring up. you were busy with college, building a life out there, we didn’t want to pull you back into something you’d left behind. and y/n, she wasn’t letting anyone in. not even us.”

“she shut everyone out?” she whispered, her chest tightening at the thought of you going through that alone. “i was her…friend.”

she’d left, chasing a future in the city, cutting ties, thinking she could escape without looking back; you stayed.

the town looked the same — fields stretching out wide, familiar old houses dotting the road, half-empty streets lined with memories she’d tried so hard to bury. she remembered thinking she needed to get out, to be someone bigger than this place. everything felt smaller, yes, but also somehow more real.

“your friends are still around, you know,” he said, glancing over at her. “danielle, hanni, haerin, hyein; most folks have moved on, but those girls are still here. might do you some good to see them while you’re back.”

she smiled faintly, memories of their laughter, their teenage dreams, filling her mind.

“maybe,” she murmured, though her thoughts were elsewhere.

he gave her a sideways glance, his eyes softening with something close to pity. “you know, darling, it’s funny how we all make a big fuss about things that don’t really matter,” he began slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully. “when you two were younger, we all knew. hell, everyone knew. this town may be small, but we ain’t small-minded.”

she shifted in her seat uncomfortably, looking down at her hands. she could feel the sting of shame creeping in, a bitter taste at the back of her throat. “you…you didn’t care?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

minji felt stupid — realising just how much of her fear had been rooted in an imagined rejection, an unfounded worry of not being accepted in the eyes of her own family.

he shook his head, his expression soft. “we just wanted you to be happy. you two were good for each other. anyone could see that. your mother and i, we didn’t care, not like you thought,” he sighed, looking out at the familiar fields and fences as they passed by. “but you ran off, and i think she, well, she tried to move on too. but this town has a funny way of holding on to people.”

“what do you mean?” she bit her lip, playing with the hem of her shirt.

“she left when you did, but came back,” he admitted, sighing. “think she wanted to find you, knocked on our door one night asking for your address.”

her heart dropped. “why didn’t she call me?”

“y/n and phones don’t work well together,” he laughed lightly. “we tried to call you to let you know, but you were barely answering anyone ‘round the time —“

“i’m sorry,” a tear slipped out of her eye. “i didn’t mean to; i don’t know why i acted like rhodes didn’t do me any good.”

he placed his hand on top of hers, squeezing it gently. “whatever happens, you apologise to that girl, alright? make things right before you leave her again — you two were good together.”

she nodded, unable to look at him, her mind racing with memories, with the realisation of all she’d left behind, the things she’d tried to forget.

the words settled over her it was soothing a wound she hadn’t known she still carried. she’d spent so much time running, afraid that love would trap her, would limit her to a small life in a small town.

right now, sitting beside her da, she felt a strange sense of clarity. perhaps she’d underestimated this place and the people in it.

they drove in comfortable silence until, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted someone riding a horse along the edge of the field that bordered the road.

her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the figure — your figure, sitting tall and steady, guiding duke with practiced ease; his golden brown coat shining against the light. you looked so much like the girl she remembered, and yet different, a little older, a little harder, like the years had carved something new into you.

when the truck drove pass, you forced yourself to remain steady, giving a small nod to her dad. yet you kept your gaze neutral, as if minji wasn’t even there, like the sight of her hadn’t stirred something deep within you.

she was just another face in the passing cars, another stranger returning to a place she’d left behind.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

everything started to change in senior year. maybe it was the way she began to linger a little longer at the gate, waiting for you even when her friends had already headed off without her. or maybe it was the stolen glances, the subtle softening of her expression when she looked your way, as if she saw something there she hadn’t noticed before.

whatever it was, you both fell into it quietly, like it was bound to happen someday.

it started as a subtle shift. you had always coexisted in the same small world, but it was only in those final years of high school that the space between you began to close. you couldn’t remember exactly when the glances turned into something more, when the quiet nods in the mornings became soft smiles, lingering a second longer than before.

the summer night was thick with warmth, the air alive with laughter, music, and the soft crackle of a bonfire that cast flickering shadows across the lake.

these gatherings always felt a little surreal, like you were watching a movie of someone else’s life from the outside, not quite fitting into the easy flow of conversation and laughter that everyone else seemed to slip into naturally.

minji was there too, laughing with her friends, her figure caught in the soft glow of the fire. she was radiant tonight, her summer dress clinging to her as she moved. you tried not to look at her too much, to avoid the tightness in your chest whenever she glanced your way or threw her head back in laughter at something one of her friends said.

she was beautiful, so bright and alive that it hurt to look directly at her for too long, like staring into the sun.

you kept your distance in front of the fire, knowing it was safer this way. you were her friend — but that was all. wanting more than that was a line you couldn’t cross, a risk you weren’t sure you could take.

and yet, it didn’t stop the ache, the impossible yearning that twisted inside you every time you saw her smile at someone else.

“hey buddy,” hanni scooted beside you, handing you another can of beer. she was one of minji’s friends from the cheerleading team. “why don’t you join her?”

you shook your head, warmth rushing to your cheeks as you took the budweiser. “thanks hanni - and i’m all good, i’m too awkward to make conversation anyways.”

she chuckled, cracking her can open. “minji talks a whole heap ‘bout you — all good things too.”

“that’s good to know,” you smiled. and for a second, minji’s eyes land on you both, motioning for you to come. “go ahead, join them.”

“s’ppose i should,” she stood up, patting your back. “come join us later, yeah?”

it was as you were lost in thought that he appeared — sunoo. he slipped into their group around, all charm and confidence and leaned close to minji, his hand brushing against her arm as he said something that made her laugh. she didn’t pull away, didn’t seem to mind his closeness and the sight of it made your stomach twist.

what he wanted was too obvious; it was written all over his face, in the way his eyes followed her, the way he leaned into her like she was already his.

there was some sort of bitterness churning in your chest. sunoo was everything you weren’t —outgoing, popular, confident in ways you couldn’t be. he could have her without hiding, without pretending and the thought of it was like a knife twisting in your heart.

you weren’t sure how long you watched them, how long you let yourself feel that raw, consuming ache, but eventually, it was too much.

without a word, you turned and walked away from the bonfire, letting the noise and laughter fade behind you as you headed down toward the jetty, where the lake stretched out into the dark, quiet and still untouched by the party.

letting your feet dangle over the water, you stared out at the lake. the gentle lap of the waves against the wood soothing but not enough to calm the storm inside you.

it was painful, this quiet longing, this want that could never be more than a secret. you wanted her more than you’d ever wanted anything but you knew you’d never be able to have her the way you wanted to — openly, without fear, without shame.

she was quiet as she walked down the jetty, her footsteps soft, almost hesitant. when she finally reached you, she sat down beside you, her legs swinging over the edge as she stared out at the water, her face bathed in the silver glow of moonlight.

“there you are,” she muttered softly, not looking at you. “why did you leave?”

you shrugged, keeping your gaze fixed on the lake. “just needed some air.”

“is that really all?” her voice was steady, but there was something beneath it, something careful and probing.

you clenched your jaw, unwilling to admit it. “i just didn’t want to be around all those people.”

she didn’t answer right away, and you could feel her watching you, her gaze intense, searching.

“y/n,” she said after a long pause, her voice barely above a whisper. “why don’t you ever look at me? really look at me for a second longer?”

the question startled you, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. you looked away, your heart hammering, feeling raw and exposed under her stares. “what are you talking about? i look at you all the time, minji.”

“no,” she murmured, shaking her head, her eyes never leaving you. “not like that. not the way you look at me when you think i’m not watching.”

you swallowed, feeling a surge of panic. you hadn’t realised she’d noticed the way your gaze lingered a little too long, the way you watched her like she was the only person in the room. you’d thought you’d hidden it well, that she couldn’t possibly see the feelings you’d kept buried so deeply inside.

“minji, i…” you started, your voice barely audible, thick with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. “it’s complicated.”

she didn’t look away, her gaze steady, unflinching. “complicated?” she repeated, a trace of frustration in her voice. “we both know there’s something here. we’ve both felt it…haven’t we?”

you wanted to tell her the truth, to let everything you’d been holding back pour out, but the words felt stuck in your throat, tangled up with fear and doubt.

“you don’t understand,” you told her, your voice barely more than a breath. “you’re perfect. you belong in the light, with people who can stand beside you without hiding. i don’t want to be someone you have to keep a secret.”

she let out a soft, shaky laugh, her fingers brushing against yours, sending a spark of warmth through you. “you think i care about that?” she murmured, her voice raw, vulnerable. “you’re the one person who’s ever really seen me. who’s ever made me feel like…like i’m enough.”

the honesty in her words was like a jolt, cutting through the walls you’d built around yourself. you turned to her, finally meeting her eyes and the intensity in them took your breath away.

there was something there, and for the first time, you let yourself hope — hope that maybe she felt the same way.

“minji…” you whispered, barely able to speak, your voice thick with everything you’d kept hidden. “i’m scared.”

she reached out then, her fingers grazing your cheek, her touch gentle but steady. “me too,” she admitted, her voice trembling just slightly. “but that doesn’t change the way i feel. i don’t want to hide from this, from you. not anymore.”

before you could process what was happening, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft, as if she were testing the waters.

you froze for a moment, caught off guard by the rush of warmth, the softness of her touch, and then you kissed her back; the weight of all your unspoken feelings pouring into that single moment.

her hands found their way to your neck, fingers threading through your hair as she pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, her lips warm and insistent against yours.

there was something desperate in the way she kissed you, as if she’d been holding back just as much as you had, as if this was a release, a breaking point you’d both been hurtling toward for so long.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, her forehead resting against yours as she closed her eyes, a small, contented smile playing on her lips.

“see?” she whispered, her voice soft and full of warmth. “that wasn’t so hard and scary now, was it?”

you chuckled, a small laugh, feeling a sense of relief and joy you hadn’t known you’d been holding back. “not with you,” you murmured, your fingers lacing through hers.

she leaned her head against your shoulder, her hand still entwined with yours, the two of you sitting there in the quiet, the world around you fading into the background.

“my love,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence, “i don’t care about what people think. i don’t care if we have to hide.”

you turned to her, feeling something settle in your chest, something warm and steady, and you squeezed her hand, nodding. “then we’ll make it work. one step at a time.”

she smiled, a soft, genuine smile that lit up her face, and as you both sat there on the edge of the jetty, the lake stretching out into the quiet of the night.

she was worth it. and for the first time, you let yourself believe that perhaps you could have this; the kind of love you’d always thought was beyond reach.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

for the next few months, your world became a quiet paradise — stolen moments and secret meetings. there was a thrill to it, hiding from the prying eyes of the town, laughing together as you pulled her behind barns or up into the fields where no one could see. it was always careful, always hidden. there was too much at risk if people found out – a town like yours didn’t take kindly to love that didn’t fit within its old, narrow-minded lines.

every day, you moved through the halls and classrooms, blending into the background, unnoticed by most, unless they asked you to look at their truck.

since you’d started seeing minji, your world seemed to shift in small ways that you couldn’t help but notice.

take lunch, for instance, it had started to feel like the highlight of your day. you’d usually sit alone or with a few other quiet friends, minding your own business, eating whatever lunch you’d packed from home.

on some days, she would appear, just casually walking by your table, glancing around like she wasn’t really looking for anyone in particular.

she’d give you a quick nod, a hint of a smile and drop something onto the table in front of you: a sandwich, a bag of fruit, or even a little box with cookies she’d baked the night before.

“you gotta eat,” she never said more than that; she’d just let the items slide across the table before walking off, her gaze distant, like she hadn’t just slipped you a part of herself.

“what’s that all about?” jimin asked you one time, his eyes twinkled with curiosity. “you bribe her or something?”

“just payment for fixing her car one time,” you lied through your teeth.

one of the days jimin wasn’t around, she handed you a sandwich wrapped in wax paper, carefully made, crusts cut off, the kind of neat, perfect thing you’d expect from someone like her.

you looked down at it, raising an eyebrow before looking up at her with a questioning glance.

she rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide the small smile playing on her lips. “don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, her voice low so no one else would hear. “i just…made an extra, mum thought it’d be nice for me to give the neighbour one.”

you couldn’t help but grin, glancing around to make sure no one else was watching before unwrapping it. the sandwich was cut into perfect triangles, layered with fresh ingredients, something better than you would’ve ever packed for yourself. taking a bite, you could taste a mix of flavours, like she’d actually put thought into what you’d like.

“you don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” you said quietly, the words softened by the smile you couldn’t hold back. “i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“maybe i want to,” she replied, a hint of defiance in her tone. “and besides, it’s not like you’re any good at packing lunches.” she glanced down, brushing an invisible speck off her shirt. “consider it…payback for letting me take duke out for a stroll.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “right, payback,” you repeated, knowing it was an excuse, a flimsy cover for something neither of you would ever say out loud, not here in this cafeteria, surrounded by people who wouldn’t understand.

“see you later?”

“later,” you nodded.

she began to walk away, but then turned around. “where’s jimin? why are you all alone?”

“oh, he’s somewhere ‘round the library.”

sometimes, in between classes, you’d find little notes slipped into the side pocket of your backpack, tucked away where no one else would see. they were simple, scribbled on scraps of paper, sometimes written hastily as if she’d been worried someone might see.

meet me by the bleachers after school.

or sometimes just a simple:

thinking of you.

each note was like a quiet reminder that, even in this place where you both had to pretend, she was still there, still yours in ways no one else could see.

and then there were moments in class, small interactions that felt like secrets passed between you in plain sight.

in history class, she’d sit a few seats ahead of you, close enough that you could catch her profile when she turned her head, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder. sometimes, she’d glance back, just for a second, and her eyes would meet yours. her lips would twitch in the hint of a smile, so brief that you’d almost wonder if you’d imagined it, before she turned back, her focus on the teacher, face calm and composed.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

one day, as the bell rang and students began to file out, you were gathering your things when you felt a light touch on your shoulder. you turned to find her standing beside you, her expression calm as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be waiting for you like this.

“forgot your pencil,” she murmured, holding it out to you.

you blinked, glancing down at the pencil in her hand. it wasn’t yours — it was hers, the one she’d been using to write down notes during english class.

“thanks,” you said softly, taking it from her. your fingers brushed, the brief contact sending a spark through you that you fought to keep off your face.

“no problem,” she replied, giving you a small smile before turning and slipping into the crowd, her footsteps blending with the sounds of students heading to their next classes.

after school, you’d wait by the bleachers, like she’d asked in her note, the cool breeze brushing against you as you watched the field, waiting for her familiar silhouette.

when she finally appeared, she’d slip beside you, careful to keep a few inches of distance in case anyone saw. but once you were alone, she’d let the distance disappear, leaning into you, her hand finding yours, fingers interlacing as if they’d been made to fit.

“you know, we’re pretty good at this whole sneaking-around thing,” she’d say with a smirk, her voice soft, barely more than a whisper.

you’d laugh, pulling her closer, the world fading as she looked up at you, her gaze warm and open, the side of her that no one else ever got to see.

“yeah, we are,” you’d reply, your voice thick with the happiness that came from simply being near her.

but it wasn’t perfect. minji was torn between her love for you and the life she was expected to lead. she still wore her role as the town’s golden girl, her perfect smiles and flawless routines. in school, she was still minji, the cheerleader, the girl who turned heads.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it was early morning, sunlight barely beginning to filter through the kitchen window as you sat across from your pa, both of you wrapped in the quiet warmth of the house. he was sipping his coffee slowly, his gaze flicking to you over the rim of his mug with that familiar, soft smile.

mornings with him were usually quiet, a calm routine of eggs, bacon, and the occasional weathered joke about the new mayor or murphy.

but today, he looked at you with a different kind of mischief.

“so,” he started, drawing out the word as he reached for his mug, “i hear whispers that young love might be in the air.”

you choked a little on your toast, shooting him a look. “what’re you talking about, old man?”

he shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “oh, nothing. just that i’ve seen you two running around a lot more lately. seems like every time i look outside, you’re showing minji how to fix up the old truck, or you’re off to murphy’s together. ‘bout time you made a girlfriend, don’t you think?”

“minji’s not…i mean, she’s just…” you felt the heat creeping up your neck and ducked your head, focusing on your plate. “it’s nothing like that.”

“mmhm,” he hummed, watching you over the rim of his cup. his eyes crinkled in a way that suggested he didn’t believe you at all. “nothing like that. you know, i wasn’t born yesterday, kid. i know the look of young love when i see it. and i see it whenever she’s around.”

fidgeting with the handle of your coffee mugc you shifted in your seat. “we’re just friends, pa. it’s not…it’s not like that.”

“well, friend or not,” he continued, his voice softening. “i’m glad you’ve got her. this town can be small and stifling. finding someone who makes it feel a little bigger, a little brighter? that’s special.” he leaned forward, his expression gentler now, serious. “and if it’s more than that? well, that’s okay too.”

you were quiet for a long moment, letting his words sink in. your pa, who you’d thought would be the first to disapprove if he ever caught wind of anything between you and another girl, was sitting here telling you it was okay. telling you he saw something good in it.

“and even if we were dating…it’s not like folks around here would accept it,” you finally admitted.

he nodded, considering this. “you’re right. people here can be set in their ways. but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and so does minji from what i’ve seen. besides, the world’s changing. more than you might think.” he reached out and gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “sometimes, you just have to carve out your own happiness, no matter where you are.”

you looked down at his hand over yours, feeling a sense of warmth and support that made your chest ache.

“you really think it could work?” you asked softly, almost to yourself.

“why not?” he replied with a gentle smile. “you two look at each other like there’s no one else in the world. that’s rare, kid. don’t be so quick to brush it off. your ma would be proud if she were here.”

the idea of a future, of something real and tangible with minji, flickered in your mind, fragile and uncertain. it was a thought you hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell on before, too afraid of what it would mean. hearing your dad’s quiet approval, his belief in something that had only been a whisper of hope in your own heart, made it feel…possible.

“so you’re seeing the town’s princess, huh?” he added with a smirk, breaking the serious moment and making you roll your eyes, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks again.

“i’m not talking about this with you, old man,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

just then, the screen door creaked open, and you glanced up to see minji standing on the porch, her hand raised in a tentative wave.

“speak of the devil again,” he said under his breath, giving you a knowing look before he stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. “morning, minji,” he greeted her, tipping his hat as he passed by. “got errands to run with your da today.”

as he disappeared into the other room, she stepped inside, flashing you a bright smile that only made your stomach twist further.

“hey,” she greeted, glancing between you and the door your dad had just exited from. “everything okay?”

you nodded, forcing yourself to return her smile. “yeah, everything’s good.”

later that afternoon — the fields were quiet, bathed in the soft amber of the setting sun, the sky stretching out wide and endless above you two.

you lied beside each other on the blanket, surrounded by wildflowers and the tall grass, nothing but the sounds of the distant crickets and the soft whisper of the wind between you. it was your secret spot, the one place in the whole world where you felt like nothing else mattered.

minji was on her back, gazing up at the sky with that faraway look she sometimes got, the one that told you she was somewhere else, imagining bigger things beyond the town limits.

you turned to watch her, the golden light casting a glow over her features, her expression open and hopeful in a way she rarely let anyone see. “you’re beautiful, you know that?”

she chuckled, tilting her head in your direction. “says you.”

then the silence returned — she was in deep thought again.

“baby, have you ever thought about it?” she asked suddenly, breaking the quiet, her voice gentle but filled with something electric. “leaving this place? just…going somewhere new, somewhere no one knows us?”

you let out a small, thoughtful hum, your eyes tracing the lines of her face. “not really. i mean, this is home. pa’s here. everything i know is here.”

“yeah, but there’s so much more out there,” she said, a glint of excitement in her eyes as she turned to you, propping herself up on one elbow. “the city is full of things we can’t even imagine. places to see, people who’d never think twice about…us.”

“and what do you imagine?” you asked softly, feeling your heart quicken at the way she was looking at you.

her lips curved into a small smile, her eyes bright with a dreamy sort of wonder. “i imagine living in a tiny apartment where you can see the city lights from the windows. going to diners at midnight, meeting new people, exploring places no one’s heard of. and not having to hide who i am, or who i’m with.”

she reached out, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on the back of your hand. “don’t you want that too?”

you sighed, glancing out over the fields, feeling a pang of longing you hadn’t even realised was there. “perhaps. i mean, i like it here. it’s…safe, you know? sure, it’s not perfect but it’s home.”

she fell quiet for a moment, her fingers still tracing patterns on your skin and then she leaned closer, her voice soft and persuasive. “but what if we could make a new home?”

you closed your eyes, her words wrapping around you like a promise. you’d always thought you’d stay here, grow old in the same town but the way she spoke, with such certainty, made you wonder if there could be something more — something that didn’t have to end with this field, this town, this life.

“it’s a lot to ask,” you murmured, opening your eyes to find her watching you, hope flickering in her gaze.

“i know,” she whispered, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering against your cheek. “but maybe we could try.”

“you don’t even know what it’s like out there, darling. the city isn’t…it’s not a fairy tale.”

“maybe it’s not,” she replied, her voice steady, resolute. “but i’d rather find out with you than stay here wondering. don’t you ever wonder?”

you looked at her, the conviction in her eyes making your chest tighten. “i do wonder. sometimes,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “but i’m scared. what if it’s too much? what if we…lose ourselves?”

she squeezed your hand, her gaze unwavering. “we won’t. we’ll have each other. that’s all we’ll need.”

and in that moment, you believed her. because if there was anyone who could make the world feel manageable, even the vast unknown of the city, it was her and her alone.

“you know,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips, “for you, i’d probably do anything.”

her smile softened, a trace of something bittersweet in her eyes. “then come with me. let’s get out of here, together. i don’t want to look back and regret never taking a chance on this. on us.”

you looked away, toward the horizon, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. “i’d miss him. my pa, your parents, murphy…mrs. kim, jimin.”

she nodded, her hand still wrapped around yours. “i know. and he’d miss you too, but we’ll visit every weekend. it’s only a plane ride away.”

you thought about the way your pa had looked at you, the way he’d smiled when he saw you with minji. you looked back at her, feeling the resolve harden in your chest, a quiet courage you hadn’t known you had. “yeah. yeah, we will.”

she grinned, the joy in her expression contagious. “then let’s do it, y/n. let’s plan it out. save up, make it happen. we’ll find a way.”

and as the sun sank lower, you lie back in the grass beside her, letting yourself dream about a life where you didn’t have to hide. and you knew, deep down, that as long as minji was beside you, you’d be willing to try.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it was a gradual thing at first, barely noticeable in the beginning. one day, minji’s texts were just a little shorter, her replies a bit slower. maybe she had a lot on her mind, you’d told yourself.

she had college applications and cheer practice and her family always had a thousand expectations. it wasn’t like she had to be by your side every second.

soon, the changes grew harder to ignore. from giving you lunches to none at all — she’d even take a spot further from your table, putting herself at a subtle distance. at parties or the diner, she’d laugh a little too loudly with her friends, her eyes skimming over you like you were just another familiar face in the crowd. her laughter, once soft and shared between the two of you, had become louder and brighter around others.

she was trying too hard, and that hurt more than anything.

and when you’d walk to school, she’d trail a few steps behind you, enough that it seemed like she wasn’t with you at all. every time she pulled back, it was like a small tear in something you hadn’t realised was stitched so deeply into your chest.

“everything okay, baby?” you’d asked one afternoon as you leaned against the locker next to hers, catching her alone for the first time in days.

she’d barely looked at you, her eyes flickering around the crowded hallway as if someone might see the two of you standing so close.

“yeah fine,” she replied too quickly, her voice light but hollow. “just busy. you know how it is.”

“righto,” you tried to keep the hurt out of your voice, shoving your hands into your pockets as you looked at her, trying to read her expression but her stare remained fixed on anything but you. “you’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

she hesitated, and for a brief second, the mask slipped. you saw the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty, but just as quickly, she hid it behind a bright smile. “of course, my love. there’s nothing wrong.”

she didn’t walk with you that day, catching a lift with one of the girls. and when you saw her with her friends, she barely acknowledged your presence. each day, it felt like you were losing pieces of her, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

another day, you’d been at murphy’s with her, sneaking glances at her from across the table as she sat with her arms crossed, tense. you tried to keep things light, talking about the old regulars who always had the same orders, the way murphy’s experimental pies could probably kill a man with one bite.

she’d laughed, but it was strained, and her eyes kept darting to the door, watching every person who walked in, as if terrified that someone might see the two of you together.

“are you…embarrassed to be seen with me now?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. it was softer than you’d intended, almost a whisper.

her face fell, and she shook her head quickly, reaching out before pulling her hand back as if she couldn’t bear to be caught touching you. “no, it’s not like that.”

“then what is it?” you pressed, leaning forward, heart pounding. “i don’t understand. we were fine a few weeks ago, and now…you barely look at me.”

she glanced around, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “people are starting to notice,” she whispered, eyes dropping to the table. “they’re… they’re talking, y/n. i heard some girls in my class say they saw us holding hands at the lake. and god, if people figure it out —“

“so what if they do?” your voice was harsher than you’d intended, frustration and hurt boiling over. “let them talk, minji. who cares? you said we were going to work through it together.”

“you don’t get it,” she snapped back, eyes flashing with something like fear. “you know what kind of town this is.”

you fell silent, her words cutting deep, the reality of what rhodes could be crashing down around you. it didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the feeling that she was slipping away, bit by bit.

“i just…i just need some space,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “it’s not forever, y/n. just until things calm down.”

you nodded, trying to swallow the bitter taste of disappointment. “yeah, space. if that’s what you need.”

she gave you a small, apologetic smile, but it felt like a thousand miles were stretching between you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the morning sun filtered through your window as you adjusted your cap, tossing a few stray strands of hair under it. it was time to get back to your routine. you had thrown yourself into fixing trucks once again, focusing on the familiar sound of tools clanging and engines revving rather than the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you since the fight with minji.

you spent the day working on a 73’ mustang in the garage, hands greasy and your mind occupied with the rhythm of tightening bolts and checking fluids.

when you heard laughter coming from the living room, you paused, wiping your hands on a rag and leaning against the doorframe.

minji’s parents were over, visiting your pa, and you could hear their chatter echoing through the house. your heart sank as you strained to hear her name amidst the laughter.

“she’s been spending a lot of time with sunoo lately,” her ma said, her voice full of casual concern. “i hope she’s not getting too serious with him. that boy is trouble.”

it felt like the ground had dropped beneath you, an ache rising from the pit of your stomach. you’d been giving her space, hoping it was what she needed to make sense of everything, hoping she’d come back. but hearing she’d gone out with someone else — it hurt more than you wanted to admit, more than you were prepared for.

“y/n!” she noticed you walk in, a big smile on her face. “look at you working hard — going to open up a shop like your pa, aren’t you?”

“no, she’s moving to the city with minji, aren’t ya?” her dad laughing, elbowing yours jokingly. “that’s if this old man lets her go.”

“if she asks nicely,” your pa responded with a teasing smile. “with minji.”

“nonsense, y/n will run this town one day,” she dismissed her husband.

“one day, ma’am,” you replied politely as you ducked your head. “i have to grab something from the back — i’ll leave you old folks to it.”

later that morning, you slipped back into your room quietly, not wanting anyone to see the way your face had tightened with barely-contained hurt. a few minutes later, there was a knock on your door.

“kiddo?” your dad’s voice was gentle. he stepped inside, giving you a long look, and you could feel him taking in the tension in your shoulders, the slight clench in your jaw. “you alright?”

you nodded, brushing him off with a forced smile, though you knew he wasn’t fooled. “yeah, just tired. lot of work on the mustang today.”

he sighed, settling into the chair by your desk. “i know things have been…complicated lately. if you ever want to talk, i’m here.”

you swallowed, feeling the weight of his kindness, but all you managed was another nod, the words you wanted to say too tangled to even begin to unravel. he patted your shoulder once, his touch reassuring, and left you with your thoughts.

you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as you threw your cap onto the bed. “yeah, just tired.”

he stepped closer, his voice softening. “you can talk to me if something’s bothering you.”

“it’s nothing, really,” you said quickly, trying to dismiss his concern. “just…school stuff.”

after studying you for a moment, you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “you know, when your ma and i used to have arguments — i was the same.”

you forced a smile, but it felt hollow. “i’ll be fine, dad. really.”

with a reluctant nod, he left you to your thoughts. but his words lingered, echoing in your mind, and you found yourself thinking of minji, of the way her laughter used to feel like home.

the next morning, you decided to change your routine. you started leaving for school earlier than minji, avoiding the moments you used to cherish.

this time, you rolled up the blue mustang you had been working on for weeks. it gleamed in the sunlight, the chrome reflecting the admiration of your classmates as they gathered around, whispering and pointing. you could feel the admiration but it didn’t fill the void left by minji’s absence.

for days, you kept this routine, ignoring her glances, her quiet attempts to catch your eye. the tables were turning, and even when you found small notes tucked into your locker or slipped between your books, you left them untouched, the sight of her familiar handwriting too much to face.

the hurt simmered, mingling with an anger you hadn’t expected — anger that you’d let yourself believe things could be different.

during lunch, you sat at the back of the cafeteria with mina and jimin, trying to engage in a thoughtful conversation.

“so, are you gonna drive jimin and i around town?” mina asked, half-joking. “dad saw it this morning and messaged me to ask you if he could buy it.”

“maybe,” you chuckled. “i don’t know if i can let go of these cars yet.”

“that’s why you don’t got a woman,” she rolled her eyes at you playfully.

“hey!” you slapped her hand off your redbull. “leave me alone, just cause you have boys lined up in your texts.”

you could feel minji’s eyes on you, the hurt and confusion etched into her features as she watched you laugh and joke with another girl — since when did mina even sit with you and jimin?

the pit in your stomach deepened as you noticed her brow furrow, an annoyed look crossing her face as she turned to hanni and danielle.

when you quietly walked with jimin to history class, he gave you a long look before speaking.

“you know, everyone’s been talking about the car,” he started with a smile, then softened as he took in your expression. “but i think there’s something more you’re not telling me.”

you hummed, trying to wave him off, but he just gave you that knowing look. “y/n, it’s okay. whatever’s going on between you and minji…i’ve always noticed. and i’m not here to judge.

you blinked, surprised. you hadn’t expected anyone to know, least of all jimin, and definitely not for him to look at you with nothing but love and understanding.

“i’ve always known,” he continued gently, “and if you’re worried about people finding out, don’t be. no one who matters will care about that. and you shouldn’t either.”

his words sank in, easing the knot that had been twisting in your chest for days. you sighed, finally letting the mask drop for a moment. “it’s just complicated. she got worried and now…”

he nodded. “sometimes people need to figure things out for themselves, but it doesn’t mean they don’t care. maybe give her a chance to explain.”

the confession hung in the air between you, and your heart raced. “it’s not that simple,” you finally said, frustration leaking into your voice. “i heard she was going out with that asshole sunoo, but she said she only needed space.

“right, but i’ve seen her slip notes in your locker, you should stop ignoring her,” he urged, his eyes earnest.

running a hand through your hair, you sighed. “maybe it’s for the best, that we don’t talk.”

“or maybe you just need to work things out. if it doesn’t go well, at least you’ll know.”

his words lingered in your mind long after he left, weighing heavily on your conscience. that evening, as you sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling, you realized that you couldn’t keep running away from minji.

the next morning, you decided to walk to school like usual when you see her standing just outside your gate, her arms wrapped around herself like she was bracing for something. she looked up as you approached, her expression a mix of nervousness and apology, her gaze hopeful but uncertain.

“can we talk?” her voice was soft, almost hesitant.

you nodded, leading her over to the side of the house, away from any prying eyes. the silence stretched between you, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking a little. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just got scared. scared of everyone noticing, of what they’d think, of…us.”

you looked away, the hurt still fresh. “so you went out with sunoo?”

her face fell. “it’s not what you think. i was out with hanni and danielle. i told my parents i was with sunoo because i didn’t want them to think we were dating.”

you took a shaky breath, looking down at her, and the words spilled out before you could stop them. “so you pushed me away just because your folks noticed?”

she took a step closer, her hand reaching for yours, her touch gentle. “because i was scared. i didn’t know how to handle this, handle…us. but i’m not scared anymore. i don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

her words settled between you, softening the edges of your hurt. she squeezed your hand, her gaze unwavering, and for the first time in days, you let yourself believe her.

you pulled her into a hug, burying your face in her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around you, holding on like she was afraid you might slip away:

“don’t pull away again,” you murmured against her hair, the words a plea as much as a promise.

she nodded, her voice a whisper in the quiet. “i won’t. not ever again.”

as you stood there, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you and the promise of a future that felt just within reach.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the weeks drifted by, and while things were back to a tentative normal between you and minji, you could still feel the hesitation beneath her smiles and laughter. she was there with you, present and warm but some part of her held back, like she was testing the waters but ready to pull back at any moment.

whenever you sensed it, you held your tongue, deciding to give her the space to come to you in her own time. you both kept your routines — trips to murphy’s, teasing mrs. kim until she would roll her eyes and tell you to stop distracting her. you’d sit in your usual booth, sharing fries and stories of the day, filling the air between you with a comfort that kept you going.

as the end of senior year crept closer, word spread about a big party at taehyung’s house to celebrate. when mina and jimin brought it up at lunch, your first instinct was to turn it down. you knew minji would be there, but something held you back from wanting to be part of the crowd.

“come on, y/n, it’ll be fun,” mina nudged, her grin contagious. “you’ve been working too hard on those trucks. you deserve a night to let loose!”

jimin, sitting across from you, chimed in with his usual calm encouragement. “plus, it’s one of the last times we’ll all be together like this. just for a few hours?”

after a bit of convincing, you finally sighed, “alright, fine. but if it gets too much, i’m leaving early.”

the night felt heavy with the anticipation of summer as you stepped into taehyung’s backyard, which was buzzing with energy. lights were strung up from tree branches, and music poured from a speaker on the porch, filling the air with a low, steady beat. people laughed and shouted around you, all in a celebratory mood as if they could already taste graduation in the air.

mina and jimin led the way, pulling you toward a quieter spot just beyond the bonfire. a large group had gathered but you found some space with your friends around a patio table set up under the stars.

minji’s presence across the yard kept tugging at you. she looked effortlessly pretty, caught up in animated conversation with hanni and danielle.

her laughter floated through the crowd, and every time she tilted her head to toss her hair back, it felt like your heart skipped a beat.

as you sat with jimin and mina, your attention was pulled back to their laughter and light teasing. you tried to let their words drown out the ache, listening as they joked about plans after high school.

“so, what’s next for you two?” mina grinned, leaning forward with a sparkle in her eyes. “i mean, please tell me you’re both sticking around?”

“definitely,” jimin nodded, his expression easy and relaxed as he took a sip out of his wine bottle. “my uncle’s got a job lined up for me at his mill. it’s nothing fancy, but it’s good work.”

you smiled at him, grateful to hear the certainty in his voice. “sounds like you’re gonna be the nepo baby of that mill.”

“hey,” he laughed, shrugging as he nodded his head at mina. “what about you?”

mina shrugged, looking out at the yard. “i’m probably helping out at my parents’ restaurant. not exactly glamorous, but i don’t mind. plus, i’ll be around to keep you two in line!” she shot you a teasing look, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

the conversation shifted as minji, hanni, and danielle made their way over, pulling up seats around the table. it didn’t take long for the topic to extend beyond the girls.

“so, what about you, minji?” jimin asked, a faint curiosity in his tone. “you’ve got big plans, i bet?”

minji’s eyes lit up, her excitement unmistakable. “i’m planning to head to seattle. there’s a really great law program there and my mum already knows people who could help me get an internship. it’ll be…different, you know?” she looked around, her gaze lingering on each of you, but it felt like she was already somewhere else, looking past the small town lights and imagining herself far away.

you forced a smile, nodding along, even though the thought of her moving on without you gnawed at you. you were proud of her, but it was bittersweet. “that sounds amazing, minji. i’m sure you’ll do great.”

for a moment, she looked at you, a flicker of something in her eyes. you couldn’t quite place it, but it made your chest tighten, as if she wanted to reach out but held back.

then, just as quickly, she looked away, her attention drawn to danielle talking about how her family needed her help with their farm and hanni mentioning the fishing company just on the outskirts of town.

“so…am i the only one leaving?” minji asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

mina chuckled, shrugging. “yup. the rest of us are staying. small-town life isn’t so bad, right?”

“well, taehyung, sunoo — those football boys have big plans outside of rhodes too, so it’ll be alright, don’t worry about us,” danielle tried to cheer her up at the sight of her frown.

she smiled, but there was a sadness to it, like she was caught between wanting to stay and feeling like she had to go. you wished you could reach across the table and tell her it didn’t matter where she went — you’d always be there for her, but you stayed silent, not wanting to disrupt the delicate balance you both shared.

“what about you though, y/n?” hanni asked. “i thought i heard your pa mention you were probably moving to the city.”

you shook your head, gently throwing sticks at the fire. “i don’t think i’ve ever mentioned that to him - s’ppose he’s just assuming i’ll try for an apprenticeship somewhere.”

“you’re not?” minji’s frown deepened, but quickly tried to mask it with a joke. “i mean…you could try for seattle with me.”

“i like rhodes,” you muttered, refusing to look at her. “perhaps, one day, but i don’t see any reason to leave now.”

before the silence could settle too long, taehyung stumbled over, clearly tipsy, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “alright, truth or dare time!” he slurred, eyes zeroing in on minji. “you in?”

minji, slightly emboldened by her drink, smirked. “dare. give me your best shot.”

minji, ever the bold one, smirked. “dare. bring it on.”

taehyung’s grin widened. “alright, i dare you to kiss my boy sunoo for five seconds!”

the table burst into laughter and shouts, some cheering her on while others shook their heads.

but you felt a strange pang in your chest, a mix of anxiety and dread as minji glanced in your direction. her eyes met yours, and you could see the hesitation there, the silent apology in the way she looked at you, as if she knew this would hurt. but then, with a resigned sigh, she turned and walked toward sunoo, accepting the dare.

you tried to steel yourself, focusing on anything but them, but it was impossible to ignore the crowd’s excited cheers, the way the laughter grew louder. you watched as she leaned in and kissed him by surprise, and in that moment, something between you broke.

“you alright?” jimin leaned over, his voice gentle amidst the noise. “you know she loves you, right?”

“i don’t know if i believe that,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended.

minji laughed with everyone else, her face flushed from the alcohol, the warmth of the fire flickering in her eyes. it was weird, seeing her like this — untouchable, almost a stranger.

after the dare, an uncomfortable tension clung to the air between you. every time you tried to meet her gaze, she looked away, hiding behind the laughter of her friends.

you wanted to let it go, to shrug it off as a stupid dare that didn’t mean anything, but the image of her kissing sunoo stuck in your mind like a thorn. it wasn’t the kiss itself; it was the way she’d looked at you right before she did it, like she knew exactly how much it would hurt.

she knew, and she’d done it anyway.

the whole night felt like it was slipping out of your control and you desperately tried to ignore minji. every glance from her felt sharper, colder, and when you caught her eye again, she just rolled her eyes and turned away, as if you were being unreasonable. the hurt started to twist into anger.

“hey y/n,” minji finally said, loud enough for the others to hear. “you look like you’re having a blast. didn’t know you were such a party animal.”

her words were laced with sarcasm, and a few people chuckled, though it felt forced.

“i’m just here for the company,” you replied, keeping your tone even - swallowing the retort that sat on the tip of your tongue. “some of it, at least.”

“really? why don’t you let loose and —“

“you don’t have to be like this, minji,” you cut her off, your voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t have to wear this mask all the time.”

“be like what?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow, her tone turning defensive. “it was just a kiss. you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend or something.”

the words landed like a slap. you clenched your fists, the anger simmering beneath the surface, but you refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing you lose control.

“you know what? forget it,” you muttered, standing up. “i don’t even know why i came here — have a good night everyone.” you turned to walk away, ignoring the glances and murmurs from your friends.

it was jimin who finally broke the silence after you left. “what’s going on between you two?”

danielle and hanni exchanged a look, each of them glancing toward minji, who suddenly looked uncomfortable, the smugness gone from her face. she shrugged, avoiding their gazes. “nothing’s going on. y/n’s just dramatic.”

they all saw through her, the way she fidgeted, the way her eyes darted toward the direction you’d gone, almost as if she were second-guessing herself.

“maybe you should apologise,” danielle suggested gently, nudging her. “it seemed like it really hurt her.”

“apologise for what?” minji shot back, but her voice had lost its edge. “it was just a stupid dare.”

“doesn’t seem like it was ‘just’ anything,” hanni said, her voice soft. “not to y/n, anyway.”

minji glanced down, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. she could feel their eyes on her, and for the first time that night, the laughter and noise of the party faded into the background, leaving her alone with the uncomfortable feeling she’d been trying to ignore.

the cool night air hit your face as you stepped away from the party, heading for the quiet of your truck. each step felt heavier, the hurt and anger swirling together.

you opened the door to your truck, about to climb inside, when you heard the crunch of footsteps behind you. you didn’t need to turn around to know it was her.

minji stood there in silence, her face partly shadowed, looking hesitant but unwilling to let you leave. she climbed into the passenger seat without a word.

the air in the truck was thick, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the silence between you. the moonlight filtered through the windows, casting a pale glow over minji’s profile as she sat with her arms crossed, her expression hard, lips pressed into a thin line.

she was angry, but so were you, though you could feel it simmering low, contained, refusing to boil over the way it wanted to.

the way you both wanted it to, maybe.

you kept your eyes on the road, jaw clenched, hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. in the corner of your eye, you saw her glance at you, her eyes narrowing when you didn’t turn to meet her gaze.

she shifted in her seat, her fingers drumming impatiently on her knee. “are you really not going to say anything?” her voice cut through the silence, sharp and demanding. it was more than a question — it was an accusation, as if your silence itself was a betrayal.

you felt her eyes on you, waiting for some kind of response, some kind of reaction. but you just kept driving, eyes fixed straight ahead, jaw set, trying to steady your breathing.

“what do you want me to say, minji?” you finally replied, voice low and steady, though you could feel the anger straining beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. you didn’t want to look at her, because you knew if you did, you wouldn’t be able to hold back.

she let out a scoff, shaking her head. “god, you’re so…frustrating. i kissed someone for a stupid dare and you’re acting like i did something terrible.”

you really tightened your grip on the wheel, knuckles turning white. “you knew what that would do to me,” you said, voice barely more than a whisper, the words laced with hurt you hadn’t meant to reveal. “you looked right at me and you did it anyway. in front of my friends.”

“it was just a kiss,” she snapped, her tone dismissive. “it didn’t mean anything.”

you swallowed, feeling the hurt settle heavy in your chest. “maybe it didn’t mean anything to you, but it sure as hell did to me,” you shook your head, finally allowing yourself to look at her, your gaze steady, unflinching. “i thought this meant something to you too. what we have, all of it.”

“don’t you dare put this on me,” she shot back, her voice growing louder, harsher. “you’re the one who can’t handle a party game.”

“this isn’t just about a party game, and you know it,” you said, voice barely controlled, trembling with the effort of holding back. “you hurt me. i know you’re scared, but you have nothing to prove to them. you don’t owe these folks anything —“

“yeah right,” she laughed bitterly, throwing her head back as she cut you off. “that’s what this is about. this stupid, small-minded town.” her voice dripped with disdain, and for a moment, you saw a flash of something cold and sharp in her eyes that you’d never seen before. “well, newsflash, y/n: maybe i’m tired of hiding. maybe i’m tired of sneaking around and pretending that this —”

“say it, minji,” you dared her when you see the hesitation in her eyes.

she gestured between the two of you, her expression hardened, “this isn’t what it really is.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, the sting of betrayal mingling with the anger that had been simmering all night. “and what exactly do you think this is?” you paused, looking over at her. “because from where i’m standing, it seems like you’ll forever be ashamed of me.”

she didn’t reply right away, and the silence that followed was heavy, oppressive. she looked away, out the window, her jaw clenched, lips pressed together as if she was holding back something sharp, something cruel.

when she finally spoke, her voice was quieter, colder. “maybe it’s not you i’m ashamed of, but the fact that i have to pretend this is even a real thing.”

the words cut deep, slicing through the fragile hope you’d been clinging to. you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, trying to keep the hurt from swallowing you whole.

“so that’s it then?” your voice broke slightly, but you forced yourself to keep going. “i’m just some…some phase for you? something to keep you entertained until you find someone who fits your perfect little picture?”

she let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “don’t twist this around. you’re the one who’s always so serious, who never lets anything slide. i mean, look at you,” she gestured towards you, her expression almost mocking. she was too intoxicated, letting words she’d been thinking all along out of her mouth. “acting like this whole thing is some grand romance when really, it’s just…it’s just something that happened. something that shouldn’t even be happening.”

you felt your heart shatter, the pain too real, too raw — you expected to hear it from other people, but not her.

“if that’s how you really feel, then why did you even start this with me?” you asked, defeated, eyes stinging as you fought to keep the tears from spilling over. “why make me think, no, why make me believe that maybe we could be something real? you made all these fucking plans with me!”

she looked away again, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside the window. “maybe i wanted to see what it felt like,” she said quietly, her tone devoid of warmth, of the softness that had once made you feel like you were the only person who mattered to her. “but i don’t think i can do this anymore. it’s…it’s too much.”

the words hung in the air, each one sinking into you like a weight, pulling you down into a well of hurt and betrayal. your breathing was shallow as you fought to keep yourself together.

“if it’s too much for you,” you said, your voice barely steady, “then maybe you should just get out of my fucking truck and out of my life.”

you didn’t mean for the words to come out so harshly, so final, but the pain was too much, too consuming to keep buried any longer as you stopped just outside of her house.

she looked at you, her eyes wide, almost shocked, as if she hadn’t expected you to push back. for a moment, she seemed lost for words, her lips parted slightly as she stared at you, something flickering in her stare that you couldn’t quite place as you pulled over two streets away from her house.

then, without another word, she reached for the door handle and climbed out, slamming the door shut behind her. you watched as she walked away, her silhouette disappearing into the night, the sound of her footsteps fading into the silence. the weight of her absence settled over you, a hollow ache filling the space where she’d been.

you stayed there for a long time, sitting alone in the truck, the emptiness swallowing you whole. you’d known, on some level, that it had always been fragile, that the love you’d built together was built on a foundation of secrecy and fear. but you’d hoped – god, you’d hoped that it could be something real.

that argument was the beginning of the end. there was no formal breakup, no final conversation. instead, there was silence – a painful, hollow quiet that replaced the laughter and stolen kisses. when you’d pass each other on the path or catch her gaze in class, all that remained was a shadow of what once was.

by the time graduation rolled around, minji was gone. she left town for college like she always said she would; moved away from the place that had both cradled and confined her.

life went on, as it always does. but some nights, when the world was quiet, you’d find yourself looking out at the road, half-expecting her to be there, waiting for you with that same, soft smile she’d given you all those years ago.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the familiar truck continued down the road, disappearing into the distance and you felt the weight of the moment settle over you like a heavy shroud. part of you had wondered, late at night when the world was quiet, what it would be like to see her again.

you’d imagined it in so many ways, but now that she was here, the reality felt more painful, like reopening a wound that had barely healed.

you nudged duke forward, resuming your path as if a brief glimpse of her hadn’t thrown your world off balance. you’d built a life here, a solid one filled with people you could count on and things you could control.

and minji, with her polished city clothes and her unfamiliar confidence, felt like a reminder of everything you’d once wanted to leave behind.

but you knew better. people left, that’s what they did, and you’d learned to carry on, even when it hurt. so you kept riding, eyes fixed on the road ahead as you turned towards home.

if only you could leave her memory behind.

it had taken years, but the garage was finally yours; a modest place, the kind that carried the scent of engine oil, worn leather and old, dusty tools handed down through generations. you’d started small, fixing up neighbours’ cars, trucks, the occasional tractor, and word had spread quickly in a town where people tended to hang on to things, even if they didn’t always work quite like they used to.

it wasn’t much to look at from the outside, but to you, it was everything — a place of your own, where you could pour yourself into work, let your hands keep busy and your mind focused on the quiet, familiar rhythm of repairing, restoring, and rebuilding.

it was a legacy, a continuation of the path your pa had set for you before he was gone.

after he passed, the garage became both a refuge and a reminder. he’d built this place from the ground up, had filled every corner with memories, with laughter, with the little lessons he’d taught you when you were still too small to hold a wrench properly.

now, it was yours alone, and that emptiness weighed on you like a shadow, even when you filled the space with the sound of clinking metal and the low hum of the radio.

some days, the silence grew too thick, too heavy to bear and that’s when you’d look up and find familiar faces showing up, as if they knew you needed them without you ever saying a word.

jimin was one of the first to start coming around. he was a friend who’d been there through it all, the good and the bad, someone you could count on without question. he’d always swing by after work, shrugging out of his jacket and rolling up his sleeves to lend a hand, his jokes filling the quiet spaces you couldn’t quite bring yourself to break. he was steady, like the tools on your workbench —reliable, unassuming, and never in a rush to leave, always lingering a little longer, making sure you were okay before he headed out.

then there was mina; popular and easygoing, but she’d stayed around town, unlike so many others. sometimes, she’d show up with a little bag of homemade pastries or the restaurant’s leftovers, claiming she had “extras” but always pressing them into your hands, eyes a little too soft, a little too knowing. she’d bring along her own car troubles too — things you suspected weren’t even that urgent — just so she’d have an excuse to hang around, helping with small tasks, keeping you company on those long, quiet afternoons.

danielle would come by, too, cheerful as ever, dropping off fresh fruits from her family’s farm. she’d place the basket down with a grin, insisting you take more than you needed, saying you had to stay healthy to keep the shop running. her laughter filled the garage, bringing a brightness that seemed to cut through the gloom. you’d find yourself laughing with her sometimes, even on the hardest days, grateful for her boundless energy, for the way she always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t say it.

hanni, haerin, and hyein were more like a trio of mischievous siblings (even though they were just neighbours), popping by whenever they felt like it, always claiming they were there to “help,” though you knew better. they’d come under the pretense of lending a hand, but more often than not, they’d be perched on your workbench or leaning against the open garage door, teasing you, nudging you to take breaks. hanni, would try to be serious, her sharp humor balancing out her kindness, while haerin would poke at your tools, asking questions about engines and oil, her curiosity both a help and a hindrance. hyein, the youngest, mostly just wanted to be around you all, wide-eyed and eager, trailing behind her older friends like a loyal shadow.

their visits had become a routine, a way to fill the space your pa had left behind, a way to keep you tethered to the world outside your own thoughts. they never mentioned minji or him. they’d remind you of simpler times, of the days when the garage was filled with laughter and your pa’s steady voice guiding you, his hand on your shoulder as you learned to tighten a bolt or change a tire.

you’d watch them joke and chatter, and for a moment, it was almost like he was still there, watching over you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it was one of those clear evenings, the kind that settled in with a comfortable chill once the sun dropped behind the hills. the fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room, and the soft murmur of voices filled the cozy space.

you’d gathered everyone for dinner, an impromptu plan that had somehow grown into a tradition — a way to fill the quiet of your home, the emptiness that seemed to linger ever since.

mina, jimin, danielle, haerin, and hyein had all shown up with bottles of wine, dishes wrapped in foil, and enough energy to keep the house feeling alive. you’d done your best to clear off the table, moving aside spare bolts and tools, making room for the laughter and conversation that had been sorely missed.

the smell of dinner mingled with the wood smoke from the fire, filling the house with an almost nostalgic warmth.

as the night wore on, the conversation turned, naturally, to the topic you’d been bracing yourself for — minji.

“weren’t you ladies with her at murphy’s the other night?” mina said, glancing around the room, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “she looked, different. polished, but, like…still minji.”

murphy’s. after your pa passed, you hadn’t found the heart to go back. the place had started to feel hollow, too full of memories that were just a little too close, a little too painful to face.

danielle chimed in, nodding eagerly. “yeah, she looked good. better than good, honestly.” her voice took on a slightly teasing tone as she gave you a sidelong look, as if waiting for a reaction.

you stayed quiet, watching the flames dance, their glow reflecting off the glasses set on the table. you could feel the weight of their gazes, the unspoken curiosity hanging in the air.

then all knew — everyone in town had known, even if it wasn’t spoken out loud, and with minji back, those old stories were beginning to stir up again.

“she’s a top lawyer now,” hanni added, swirling her drink thoughtfully. “one of the best in the country, from what i hear. apparently, she’s only here for the summer, staying to help her dad with the estate and everything.”

jimin leaned back, eyebrows raised. “top lawyer, huh? guess that makes sense.”

“yeah, remember her talking about all the things she wanted to do?” haerin said, her voice wistful. “back in high school, she used to say she wanted to change the world or something like that. and now look at her.”

there was a murmur of agreement, a mix of pride and wonder in the air, as if everyone in that room felt a little piece of ownership over her success.

a part of you couldn’t help but remember those late-night talks, the quiet moments when she’d let her guard down, telling you about the things she wanted, the dreams she couldn’t quite share with anyone else. she’d always had that fire, that need to be something bigger, to leave her mark on the world.

“i’m proud of her,” you smiled, although bittersweet. “but she didn’t have to what she did.”

they all fell silent for a moment, their glances shifting to you, sensing something unspoken in the air. you could tell they wanted to ask, to know what it felt like for you to see her again after all these years. no one said it out loud, respecting the quiet way you kept yourself guarded, the way you stayed just a little apart from the conversation, even as you listened intently.

“it’s weird,” danielle said softly, her gaze warm as it lingered on you. “her coming back, i mean. like we’re all sort of older, different, but somehow still stuck here.”

“speak for yourself,” jimin grinned, nudging her with his elbow. “i’m thriving, thank you very much.”

they laughed, breaking the tension, and you managed a small smile, grateful for the ease they brought into the room, for the way they tried to keep things light, even if the weight of the past lingered in the spaces between the words.

as the conversation shifted to other things; haerin’s new job, hyein’s plans to travel, jimin’s latest attempt at dating — you found yourself half-listening, lost in the memories that had resurfaced with minji’s return.

they stayed late, laughter and soft conversation filled the room, each of them lingering, as if they knew you needed them there. and when the night finally wound to a close, when the last bottle was empty and the plates were cleared, you found yourself alone again, silence settling over the house like a familiar weight.

this time, it felt like something had been stirred, like minji’s presence had reignited a part of you you’d tried so hard to bury. and as you sat there, watching the dying embers glow faintly in the hearth, you couldn’t help but wonder if some part of you had been waiting for this moment all along.

the living room was dimly lit, you sat there, nursing a bottle of whiskey, lost in thoughts that never seemed to find closure. the ache of loss hung in the air, mingling with the scent of wood smoke and worn leather from the couch.

the shadows from the dying fire flickered against the walls, casting a warm, ghostly glow over the photos of you and your pa. your gaze lingered on one picture — faded, creased at the edges — of you both standing by his 88’ ford, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his face lit up in a laugh. it felt like a lifetime ago.

outside, the wind picked up, rattling the windows slightly; a soft reminder of just how quiet and isolated your life had become.

the knock at the door was gentle, uncertain, as if the person on the other side was almost afraid to disturb you. you exhaled slowly, pulling yourself up and crossing the room to answer it — half hoping it wasn’t a neighbour or even an old friend needing a favour.

what you weren’t prepared for was seeing minji stand there, eyes glistening with unshed tears, her expression raw and vulnerable in a way that took you back to simpler days.

“hey,” she whispered, barely audible, her voice breaking the silence. “can i come in?”

you held her gaze for a long moment, your heart warring with itself. part of you wanted to shut the door, to protect yourself from whatever mess might follow. the other part, softer and rooted in all the kindness he had taught you, couldn’t do that.

stepping aside to let her in, you nodded, even though every nerve felt on edge.

the silence settled thickly between you both as she took in the room, eyes skimming over the quiet remnants of the life you’d built after she left. she glanced at the half-empty bottle of whiskey, then at the photos on the wall.

“i’m so sorry,” she said, looking down at her feet, as if the weight of the words was too heavy for her to meet your gaze. “no one told me…about your pa. i didn’t know.”

the pain in her voice was real, but you couldn’t let yourself soften just yet. you crossed your arms over your chest, glancing away, feeling the familiar sting in your throat.

“he was here one day, gone the next,” you said quietly, your voice almost a whisper. “he’d been fine. we were working together in the shop, laughing over something stupid, and then…then he was gone.”

the ache in your chest sharpened as you spoke, the whiskey doing little to dull the edges of grief. “i try to tell myself that maybe he’s with ma now. that they’re together, wherever they are — it’s the only thing that gives me any kind of peace these days.”

her shoulders sagged as if the weight of your words had settled on her too. she looked up at you, eyes shimmering with tears that she made no attempt to hide. “i’m so, so sorry, y/n,” she repeated, voice breaking. “i should’ve been here. i should’ve known, or at least tried to be there for you somehow.”

you held her gaze, fighting the urge to reach out, to pull her into a hug the way you would’ve years ago, but space between you too had grown wider over time.

“it’s a little late for that,” you murmured, unable to keep the bitterness out of your tone. “you left me without a word, told me what we had was a phase.”

she winced, nodding slowly, accepting the hurt behind your words. “you’re right,” she said softly. “leaving you was the hardest thing i ever did and i wish i could take back every hurtful thing i said that.”

“seemed pretty easy,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “leaving me behind and all that.”

she shook her head, biting her lip as fresh tears welled in her eyes. “it wasn’t easy, y/n. it tore me up but i thought you’d be better off without me after everything i put you through.”

you looked at her, and for a moment, the memories of all those nights you’d spent together, sneaking around the town, feeling like the only two people in the world, flashed through your mind.

“i did love you, minji,” you said finally, each word coming out slow, deliberate. “and for a long time, i thought that was enough. people change. things change. that phase of my life…it’s over now.”

the words seemed to hit her like a physical blow. she looked down, a shaky breath escaping her as she tried to keep her composure.

“i know,” she whispered. “i guess i just…just wanted you to know how sorry i am. for everything. for leaving, for not coming back sooner, for being too afraid to face everything i left behind.”

you nodded, feeling the weight of her words but knowing there was no going back, no undoing the years you’d both lived without each other. “thanks for saying that,” you murmured. “it doesn’t change things, but…it helps.”

she nodded, feeling defeated. “thank you for hearing me out - i know you didn’t have to.

you nodded, offering her a faint, bittersweet smile. “it’s what the old man would have wanted. he always had a soft spot for you.”

a sad smile crossed her lips, and she looked down, the weight of lost time pressing heavily between you both. she reached out, hesitated, then withdrew her hand, knowing there was nothing left to be said.

you walked her towards the porch, the silence between you now comfortable in its own way, a quiet kind of closure. as she turned to leave, she glanced back one last time, her eyes lingering on you with an expression that seemed to carry all the regret and love of years past.

as the door closed behind her, you exhaled, feeling the finality of it all. you knew that, somehow, you’d finally let her go.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

#kpop x reader #new jeans x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans x reader #minji x reader #newjeans minji #minji imagines #angst

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

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Can I get a whiskey with Steve Rogers as a married couple please one where it’s not quite marvel universe?

New Perspective.

set in a universe where steve doesn't leave, but instead stays to live out the rest of his life in happiness. this is just tooth rotting fluff. <3

warnings - the tiiiiiniest bit of angst at the start. mainly just sweethearts in love.

word count on this is 1k <3

3k masterlist here.

masterlist. inbox.

It's panic, first.

Then horror.

Sadness comes next.

And then... complete and utter relief.

You'd begged him not to go. Pleaded and bargained, promised him anything and everything. But he insisted.

You knew the risks. You also knew you'd never forgive yourself if you let him go while you were arguing.

So, you accepted it. He was leaving to go on a mission through space and time, and you were fine with it. Completely and totally fine with it.

You kissed him goodbye on the platform, whispering gentle love against his lips.

"You come back to me in one piece, Steve Rogers. You understand?"

He nodded gently, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Yes, ma'am. Understood."

He'd told you he loved you at least forty times before he went. It didn't do anything to quell the unease in your heart.

And then, it was time. And he was gone. And you held your breath. And the minutes went by. And he hadn't returned.

"Where is he, Bruce?" you questioned softly, trying not to let on how scared you were.

"Yeah, where is he, Bruce?" Sam had said, firmer, laced with more fear.

"I, I - I don't... I'm trying, okay?"

"Trying?" Bucky asked in disbelief, scoffing. "Trying?"

All four of you began to panic. Chests heaving, bones vibrating, lips chewed between teeth.

Finally, there was a noise. A clattering whoosh, a signal of return. You watched the platform, waiting for him to appear.

And he didn't.

"Where is he, Bruce? Where the fuck is he?"

It was the most upset you'd ever seen Sam. You didn't like it. You'd scanned the horizon, and saw broad shoulders and blond hair in the distance.

"I think he's back."

You were whispering, afraid to ruin the tension of the science. You slowly walk over to the bench, and there he is. In all his golden glory.

"Steve?"

"Baby?"

He looked a little dazed, a little confused. Suppose that happens, when you travel between dimensions.

"You okay?"

"I did it. Everything's back where it should be."

"Proud of you," you smiled, sitting down next to him and linking your hands together. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Saw some old faces. They just made me want to get home to you."

You had grinned at him, then, all bright and blinding. You surged forward and captured his lips with yours, throwing your arms around his neck.

"Never leave me again," you'd laughed. "My heart can't handle it."

"Never again," he'd promised into your mouth. "Never again."

That was years ago.

You'd both vowed to live a simple life, from that moment on.

You got married a couple of months later, in a quaint little courthouse in downtown New York. Sam and Bucky were your witnesses, both of them standing with tears in their eyes as you and Steve promised to love each other forever. The four of you grabbed dinner afterwards, at a small family run place that Sam recommended. It was perfect.

You bought a house on the outskirts of New York, out of the city. You wanted greenery and nature, and Steve vowed he'd give you anything you ever asked for.

It's a three bedroom cottage, plenty big enough for the both of you. There's a white picket fence and a rustic stone wall, pathway paved with lawn on either side. The front door is forest green, painted by your husband at your request. You'd suggested Captain America Blue first, but he'd protested. You'd laughed and compromised, picking out paint colours hand in hand at the hardware store.

You've planted fruit trees in the garden, watering them carefully every evening. Apples, pears, cherries, plums for Bucky. You're hoping it'll be warm enough to plant an orange tree or two next year. Steve helps, more than happy to muddy his jeans and get his hands dirty, on his knees in the soil with you. He's hung fairy lights and lanterns among the trees, illuminating the backyard. It's the perfect atmosphere for a dinner party, your friends and family laughing and chatting around a carefully prepared table, food and wine scattered across the cloth. You live for nights like those. Both of you do.

One of your favourite places is your sun room. Big glass panes, sunlight beaming in at all hours of the day. It's prettiest at sunrise and sunset, pinks and oranges cast across the space. You and Steve curl up on one of the love seats, limbs and heartstrings tangled together. You watch the sun come up, excited at the possibilities the day holds. Then, you watch it set, content and warmed by the fullness of your love. You drink coffee there in the morning, and tea there at night. Whiskey, sometimes. You'd be happy to sit there forever, never leaving your husband's side.

Steve installed a vintage claw foot tub in the bathroom. It has ornate gold feet, shiny and intricate. You light candles, close the blinds, and fill it up with warm water and bubbles. Both you and Steve slip into it, your back against his chest, strong arms keeping you steady. He washes your hair carefully, taking his time, slow and gentle. He presses kisses to your wet skin as he works, memorising every inch of you. As if he doesn't already know it by heart.

The most frequented room in the house is the kitchen. You and Steve spend hours cooking, baking, making cocktails. You'll perfect a recipe while Steve sits on the counter, stealing kisses as you work. The sunlight glints off your wedding bands, illuminating the big, open room. It's light and it's spacious and it's a haven filled with love and laughter. And cake. Lots of cake.

He keeps his promise right until the very end. He never left you again.

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imyourbratzdoll · 11 months ago

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I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈

hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.

summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.

warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one.

You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you.

Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?”

Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!”

You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear.

“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!”

“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.

You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”

“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.”

You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile.

Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.”

With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself.

While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to.

“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin.

You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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writingchalamet · 4 months ago

Text

Angels Like You

This is part 1 of my new Bucky series, taking place just after FATWS, Sam and Bucky are visiting Sarah when they meet her neighbour Y/n, who happens to catch Bucky's eye, the rest you'll have to find out...

Slow burn, eventual smut.

2.4k words

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, mentions of graphic physical abuse, fluff, y/n has a child

Please do not read if you find these topics upsetting or triggering, my inbox is always open for any messages 🧡

Chapter 1

Bucky's ears tingled with the sound of Cass and Aj's voices echoing through the house as they played, along with the clatter of feet smacking against the wood floors and laughter. A smile crept its way to Bucky's face as himself and Sam walked down the drive to Sarah's house, upon hearing the chaos that ensued inside. The sun beamed down in golden streams lighting the path towards the house, that's when he saw her, sitting on the front lawn with Sarah, smile on her face, eyes gleaming and laughing along with something Sarah had said to her. He felt it instantly in his chest, his heart stopped for a minute.

"You okay, Cyborg?" Sam nudged his vibranium arm arching his brow in question. "Yeah, yeah sorry, thought I forgot my keys but we're good" Sam side eyed him but continued down the path to the house.

"Sam! Bucky! Hey! Kids your uncle Sam is here!" Sarah called out to the boys, rising from her seated position from the floor, her unknown companion says something about drinks and heads inside, not before turning her head and nodding towards the two men. "Hey baby sis" Sam engulfs her in a hug as the pair reach, her reply about not being a baby is muffled by Sam's chest which gains a laugh from Bucky. "How are you guys doing?" Bucky asks as they split, nodding his head towards the house.

"You know, we're good, busy as ever, the kids miss their uncle though" she nudges Sam. "Hey, not just anyone can be Captain America, think of the street cred those kids will get" Sarah and Bucky both roll their eyes scoffing in unison. "Anyway I have a question, who was your hot friend that was sitting with you?" Sam wiggled his eyebrows smirking looking back towards the house, where you could be seen in the kitchen window making a pitcher of lemonade.

"Sam! That's my friend Y/n, she lives next door, and she has a bakery in town" She sighed as she answered knowing she couldn't avoid the question. "Yeah, yeah okay, but is she single" Sam enquired rather pointedly. "Not for you, she's not, stay away Sam! I'm serious she got out of a real bad relationship and she doesn't want to date!" Bucky couldn't help but feel his own heart break a bit, he didn't know what was wrong with him, he hadn't even met you. Just as Sam was about respond, no doubt some witty comment about being the hero to sweep you off your feet, the sound of the front door opening interrupted them, Cass and AJ came out carrying a pitcher and glasses placing them on the outdoor table before pouncing towards their uncle and his friend. But Bucky couldn't keep his eyes off the front door as you emerged with a little boy attached to your hip, he pointed at the sky and muttered something as your pointed back a smile adorning your face as you approached the group.

"Hey" you breathed out as you reached everyone, standing next to Bucky, you couldn't help but feel judged as you felt his strong gaze unwavering on you and your son. You didn't know much about Bucky, just what Sarah had told you, the former Winter Solder turned good guy, born in 1917, Hydra captive then the Wakandans broke his trigger words or something like that. But why was he staring at you, was it because there was no apparent ring on your ring finger and you had a baby, you knew he was from a different time but surely he didn't think so outdated. "Hi, I'm Bucky" he extends his had to you, you shake it nervously, unwrapping one arm from your child to do so. "Y/n".

"Hi I'm Sam, and who's this little guy?" Sam gives you a wave, then tilts his head smiling at the boy in your arms, who buries his head in your chest at the sudden attention. "Oh this is Forrest, you gonna say hi baby" you tickle the babies belly erupting the sweetest giggle from him as he nuzzles further into your chest, "sorry he's shy around new people" you smile stroking his curls away from his eyes. "Aw just like you Bucky" Sam laughs which earns him a smack from Sarah. "How old is he" Bucky asks quietly, still not looking away from you, "He's one and half" this time you speak directly to Bucky turning more and meeting his eyes, it's then you realise the soft smile he wears across his face as he looks rather intently at you.

As you turn towards him, Bucky takes notice of your face, committing it to memory, he notes every line, freckle, the way your smile curves, the slight indentations in your cheeks as you do, the way your nose crinkles as you look at your son, how your eyes seem to brighten when you talk about him, then he notices a small scar on the side of your face above your eyebrow, how the jagged little line fades into the skin. He spots another faded scar like it on your hand as you continue to brush back the babes hair away from his face. Forrest points up to the sky and excitedly squeaks "bird" as one flies overhead. Bucky again couldn't help but make another mental note, this time of the way the baby who very much resembled his mother, and how his little face lit up at the sight.

"Oh well done Forrest, bird!" Sarah came forwards enthusiastically clapping her hands pointing to the sky. "Bird! Bird! brr brrr brrr-" Forrest continued to babble away to himself, pointing to the sky at the birds. "Bird was his first word, that's pretty much all he says besides mama and bye, he loves birds" you laugh bouncing him on your hip. "Oh Sam he'd love you in your bird costume!" Sarah jokes, Sam however who's eyes seem to pop out of their sockets at the comment does not find it funny, while Bucky laughs. "Costume! it's a suit, a suit that saves the world I'll have you know! bird costume.." he tuts kissing his teeth.

"Well I think your bird costume is cool uncle Sam" AJ pipes in. "Me too" Cass adds though is overlapped by a heavily frustrated Sam "-it's not a bird costume!! you know what, next time any of you guys need saving I'm leaving y'all to fend for yourselves. pfft bird costu-" his rant was cut short by Sarah "Well that's not true and you know it, you love me big brother, kids get in on this" Sam is soon bundled to the floor by Sarah and the kids piling on top of him all of them laughing harmoniously.

"Okay as much as I want to stay I have to get this little angel down for his nap, so I'll head back to mine, thanks for letting us play guys" You shout at the group hearing a faint 'okay love you' from Sarah under all the laughing. You turn to Bucky and smile, "It was nice to meet you Bucky, maybe see you again sometime" this time you extend your hand to him which he took in a heartbeat. Smoothing his thumb over the soft skin as he stands a little taller nodding. "Yeah it was great meeting you guys, bye Forrest" he turns his attention towards the tired toddler in your arms who sleepily lifts his hand giving Bucky a small wave goodbye, making the old mans heart skip a few beats. "Bye Bucky" you gently let your hand slip from his holding eye contact with him for just a few more seconds before daring to tare yourself away.

As you carry yourself down the driveway, one thing you were certain of. Bucky had made your heart melt in just a few small moments.

Bucky and Sam had been staying with Sarah for two nights now. The pair of them loving the 'uncle duties' as Sam liked to call it, playing with the kids while Sarah worked, showing them how to fly Redwing and dangling off Uncle Bucky trying to take him to the ground. Buck wouldn't admit it, but he secretly loved how the kids had taken to him so quickly. the thought of being a part of a family especially one with kids seemed so far out of reach, so he appreciated Sam for letting him join his. However, he did feel a tinge of disappointment over the fact that you had not been over to visit since the first day they had arrived. Sure, he had caught a glance of you cooking in your own kitchen window when they were on their way out yesterday afternoon, and sure you heard a commotion through your open window looking up in an instant hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain blue eyed beauty, eyes meeting for only a second before you had to tear them away to check your toddler wasn’t playing with knives or anything. Bucky again felt the small pang of rejection in his chest as you looked away just as quickly as you looked at him.

Over dinner that evening Bucky was surprised it was Sam that brought you up as a topic of conversation clearly reading the signals that he had wanted to know more about you without seeming nosy. “So, your friend Y/n” Sam suggested the topic after swallowing a mouthful of beer, finding the confidence, Bucky instantly perked up, waiting to see what Sarah would say. She only tilted her head to the side cocking an eyebrow. “What about her Sam” there was a brief pause, Sam looked between Sarah and Bucky, “You know, what’s her deal” he took another swig of his drink feeling slightly under pressure. The man could fight evil and not break a sweat but ask his sister a challenging question and the boy would crack. “Her deal is none of your business Sam” Sarah stated matter of factly. “Oh, common Sarah, we’re just curious” Sarah huffs and sits back in her seat looking between the two men. Bucky gives her a subtle nod letting her know it’s okay.

“If either of you say anything to her, I will beat you both senseless, got it!” she points across the table at both the men sitting next to each other. Bucky and Sam raise their hands in unison, the sight quite comical for Sarah.

“I told you she got out of a bad relationship, but I didn’t say how bad. She moved from Wyoming to get away from him, she was with him for years, he’d keep her locked in the house, put her in the hospital god knows how many times, but she was too terrified to press charges against him. Then she got pregnant and it got worse, she told me he said he was gonna kill her and the baby and she finally left while he was at work one day, got in the car and drove for a day straight until she got here, she didn’t know anyone, she was living out of her car, I let her stay at mine when I met her and found out what happened and got her in contact with her family again and they helped her buy her house and open her store, she used to have a café back in Wyoming before she met Matt, but he made her sell it, asshole. But anyway she has a restraining order against him but he keeps showing up here, we don’t know how he found out she lives down here, but he keeps coming and waiting for her outside her shop across the street and just stares at her, we don’t know if he lives in town now or if he just travels here to shake her down then goes back, but the guy is nuts.” Sarah’s chest felt heavy as she released the intel on her best friend, she couldn’t read the faces of her brother and Bucky, something distinguishable between disgust and regret of asking on Sams face but Bucky she could practically hear the gears turning in his Vibranium arm as he clenched his fist, nostrils flared and jaw tight, the man looked ready to fight.

“Have you guys not called the police about harassment” Bucky all but snarled. “Yeah, but they said they can’t do anything as he has never breached his restraining order, he’s not allowed within one hundred feet of her or Forrest and no contact is to be made, and so far he’s not done that, he’s never even met Forrest, I don’t think he’s ever seen him, he just sits on a wall in town opposite her shop, and the police say that’s not harmful and no means for arrest, or some shit like that I don’t know.” Sarah shook her head again at the thought.

“That’s bullshit” Bucky’s hand hit into the table with force causing the drinks to knock over and spill. Sarah let out a little yelp at the sudden boom of his voice. “Ah sorry” already picking up the classes and reaching for napkins and cleaning the mess. “Maybe we could hire her a bodyguard? What about Torres, I bet he’d love it!” Sam piped up again nodding to Bucky with a grin on his face. “She doesn’t need a baby sitter, what she needs is the police to do their job and arrest the creep who threatened her and her sons life multiple times but is still somehow walking around scott free” Sarah’s words seem to hit a nerve with Bucky, as he rises from the table storming towards the exit.

The thought of you in danger kept Bucky awake all night, not that he ever got much sleep anyway, but you and Forrest were keeping him up more than usual and he found it near maddening. Deciding to take things into his own hands the next day, he asked Sarah if you would be home, after finding out you would be in your Bakery he was very excited to pay you a visit, though that excitement soon turned to dread at the sight of a man having you pressed against the wall with his hands around your neck, while screaming in your face through the window of your shop. Matt had picked the wrong day to break his restraining order, and Bucky sure was happy of his saviour complex.

#bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes smut #tfatws #sam wilson #bucky x you #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #imagines #bucky series #sebastian stan #bucky fluff #angst

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caplanbuckybarnes · 3 months ago

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Drinkin’ Problem (Steve Rogers One Shot)

Summary: Steve gets as drunk as he’s able after the loss of you.

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, angst, sad Steve

WC: 754

Read on Ao3!

Drinkin' Problem - Midland

The bar wasn’t much, just a small, dimly lit hole-in-the-wall where nobody asked questions. Steve preferred it that way. It was one of the few places in Brooklyn where he could be alone, even when the place was packed. The regulars had learned to give him his space, and the bartender—an older man with a gruff demeanor—knew better than to make small talk. He just poured Steve’s drink, slid it across the counter, and moved on.

Steve swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the faint light from the jukebox in the corner. It was an old machine, playing country tunes that Steve wasn’t all too familiar with, though they fit the mood. Right now, Drinkin' Problem by Midland was crooning through the speakers, its slow, mournful rhythm syncing perfectly with his thoughts.

They call it a problem, I call it a solution…

The lyrics hit harder than they should have. Steve wasn’t drinking because he liked it. Hell, he could probably go days without touching the stuff if he wanted to. But it wasn’t about the whiskey. It was about *her*.

He took a long, slow sip, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, dulling the ache in his chest—but just barely. He’d thought he could handle the pain. After all, he’d survived wars, fought gods, and saved the world more times than he could count. But nothing prepared him for this. For the silence. For the emptiness that swallowed him whole when she was gone.

It wasn’t just her. God, she was a wound that had long since scarred over, even if it never fully healed. But this…this was different. She’d been real. Present. Someone he could’ve built a life with. The life he’d been trying to live in the shadows of being Captain America. But she was gone now. Another casualty in a life full of them.

He could still hear her voice in the quiet moments, the way she’d call his name with that soft laugh of hers. The way she’d lean into him when the world felt too big, too heavy. She’d been his anchor, the one person who didn’t see him as just the man out of time or the symbol of freedom, but as Steve. Just Steve.

Now, all he had left were the memories—and the whiskey to help him live with them.

He downed the rest of his drink, feeling the warmth spread through him, numbing the edges of his grief. For a moment, he thought about leaving the bar. Heading back to the empty apartment that waited for him. But what was the point? The silence there was worse than the noise here. At least here, the clinking of glasses and the hum of the jukebox kept him company, even if they couldn’t fill the void she’d left behind.

Another drink appeared in front of him. He didn’t remember asking for it, but the bartender knew his routine by now. He nodded in silent thanks, lifting the glass to his lips. The whiskey went down smoother this time, or maybe he was just getting used to it.

The song switched, but he barely noticed. The world outside felt like a blur, distant and unimportant. His life had always been about the mission, about fighting for something bigger than himself. But now, what was he fighting for? What was left? The world moved on, as it always did, but Steve Rogers was still here, still stuck in his grief, drowning in memories of the life he’d almost had.

The bar began to thin out as the night wore on, but Steve stayed. He wasn’t ready to face the real world yet. Not without her. Maybe not ever.

He lifted his glass once more, staring into the amber liquid like it held the answers he was looking for. It didn’t. But at least it helped him forget, if only for a little while.

“They call it a problem,” he muttered to himself, echoing the song, “but I call it a solution.”

The bartender caught his eye from across the bar, offering a knowing nod before returning to his work. Steve wasn’t sure how much longer he’d stay here tonight. Maybe just one more drink. Maybe not. But tomorrow? Tomorrow he’d be back.

Because the truth was, this wasn’t just about the whiskey. It wasn’t even about forgetting. It was about holding on to what little pieces of her he still had left.

And for now, that was enough.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fandom #steve rogers angst #steve rogers and reader

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your-regular-toast-enjoyer · 2 years ago

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Yandere! Batfam x Reader

Batfam x reader or Batfam/reader

Yandere Batfam x reader or Yandere Batfam/reader

Word count: 8639 words

TW: GN reader, adult Damian Wayne, mentions drugs, yandere, neglect, angst and kidnapping.

You were Bruce’s youngest child, a year younger than Damian and several years younger than the rest. You were simply the result of a hookup on one of Bruce’s many business trips, it might’ve been to Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia or even just somewhere else in America. The point is, you didn’t grow up in Gotham until the age of thirteen when your mother died in a violent car crash, one in which you had also been involved.

You had sat for hours in the backseat, slowly seeing your mother’s life drain from her eyes as the fire brigade did their best to cut their way into the car. It had all been for nought though, with her dying before the paramedics even arrived. You were physically fine except for some deep cuts and bruises, but your mother’s abdomen had been pierced as a drunk driver of a flatbed lorry carrying steel poles had backed violently into your car, sending the metal sticks flying straight towards your vehicle. One of the poles had gone through the window and hit your mother. It was a gruesome sight, so vile that you threw up several times as you were hauled out of the wreck.

Legally, you were supposed to go to your father, even if your mother’s parents, possible siblings or someone else were willing to take you, the law demanded that it’d be your father who took you. Bruce had signed your birth certificate, he wasn’t unaware of your existence, and he had since your birth sent monthly child support to your mother, but that was all you really were to him up until that point; A negligible extra expense.

It wasn’t that Bruce disliked you when you came to the manor. You were simply a scared kid who had just lost their mother and was deeply grieving. He had dealt with plenty of those. He had just been busy… He obviously had his obligations as Bruce Wayne: CEO duties, public image and bundles of paperwork, but it was more so his obligations as Batman and to his other children, which pulled him away from you when you first came into his home. Damian, especially, took up most of his time. Not only did the two of them constantly train for protecting the city, thus developing a closer bond than you’d ever have with either of them, but Bruce was also very aware of how Damian’s childhood at the league weighed down on him mentally, so, he kept him close, let him vent his frustrations and slowly but surely get over his trauma.

From the very beginning, you became the forgotten child:

Dick was always so focused on Damian, singing his praises and always taking care of him. He usually forgot to even greet you whenever he visited the manor for a week or two, often going “Oh! I haven’t seen you all this time! Well, bye to you too Y/n”, whenever he left. Whenever the oldest brother was visiting, you’d stand in the doorway to the living room, observing with stinging eyes as he embraced Damian like the boy mattered more than the entire world. You had forgotten how it felt to actually matter that much to someone. You wondered if you ever had. Why you tortured yourself with watching the two, you didn’t know, perhaps because you longed to be in Damian’s position? You weren’t even sure yourself. The reason probably didn’t matter, as your forced your eyes to stay on the two, only leaving when you could feel silent tears run down your cheeks.

Jason was the friendliest, not particularly caring for Damian and Bruce either, often calling the green-eyed boy “Demonspawn”, which you’d laugh loudly at, only to be sent to your room by Bruce for upsetting Damian. Jason understood though, usually going to your room to hang out with you and listen to your stories, unlike everyone else. He came to adore you. Damian might’ve been Dick’s favourite sibling, but you were Jason’s. Since Damian was called “Babybird”, Jason called you “Tiny tweet”, even though you didn’t hold the title of Robin. You loved the times when Jason was there, he made you finally feel understood and heard. Unfortunately, Jason was at the manor even less than Dick, (who spent 90% of his time in Blüdhaven), since he couldn’t stand the sight of Bruce for longer than an hour every other month. So, the brief moments of reprieve the second oldest offered were few and far between, still leaving you isolated most of the time.

Tim barely spared you a glance, too busy with his own school, vigilantism and friends. He appreciated that you weren’t annoying like Damian, who’d constantly attack him, thus automatically bringing you above the little devil on Tim’s tier list of family members… however, Damian was at the very bottom, which didn’t make it a great achievement. If you ever tried to converse with Tim, he’d dismiss you with a wave of his long bony hand, telling you to find someone else to chit-chat with. You stopped your attempts at befriending the middle child after a handful of unsuccessful tries, barely seeing him after that. As a matter of fact, whenever you tried to visualise a picture of Tim, it was the image of his slim dismissive hand which appeared. You had forgotten if his hair was black or dark brown, if his eyes were light blue or grey or if his nose had a bump or not. He bordered on becoming a personal myth to you; You knew he existed in a far-off world, but he wasn’t within your orbit.

Damian was at first fearful that you’d take his place, bullying you, physically harassing you and bringing up your mother until you were left wailing on the floor. When you told Bruce though he’d always tell you to, “Be the bigger person, Damian has been through a lot”. You wished you could have fought against your youngest brother, but not only was he older and stronger than you, but he was also a trained assassin and vigilante. You stood no chance. When Damian realised that you were no threat to his position, he left you alone, avoiding talking to you and interacting with you on the basis that you simply didn’t matter to him. He had actually once accidentally told a teacher that he only had three siblings, not realising that he had forgotten about you until he was on his way home, replaying the conversation in his head. Damian might’ve once tried to become closer to you after Alfred had given him a long spiel about how “family is important”, but quickly realised that you trusted him less than the thieves in Crime Alley, and so he abandoned the idea.

Bruce didn’t mean to ignore you, it was purely accidental, but he had on multiple occasions forgotten your birthday and even once failed to remember buying you any Christmas presents, leaving you as the only Wayne child with no gifts that year, to which you had simply muttered something along the lines of, “Of course”, not in a vengeful or angry way, instead in a resigned and understanding tone, before going back to your room that night and not leaving until a day or two later. Alfred had scolded him for that occurrence, there wasn’t really anything he could’ve said in his defence and even Dick had looked at him with disgust as they all took in the image of you standing there, alone, surrounded by gifts that weren’t for you. It had been a striking visual, yet not enough to make Bruce change his ways. It wasn’t that he held any animosity towards you, you were simply just air to him, he had no idea where you were at any given time or who you were, sometimes he even forgot your face.

Alfred was a kind man, an understanding man. However, just like Bruce, he also had others to worry about, and the more isolated you became in your behaviour, the less able he was to spend time with you. Not only that, but he also refused to hear you talk badly of any of your brothers, and even Bruce was off the table if you felt like complaining. Alfred was a sweet and patient man, but to you it felt as if he had lost the plot, as if he didn’t understand how badly you were treated, because his love for the others blinded him, making him an unfortunate enabler of your torment. Alfred was only really good for giving you a biscuit/cookie when you sat in the kitchen, apathetically staring into a wall, for venting your frustrations, however? He was useless.

Your father neglected to handle your trauma. However, somehow, in his messed up brain, he reasoned that any trauma which was vigilante-related could somehow be considered worse as it was on a much larger scale than a single individual losing their mother. This made you grow resentful of both Damian and your father, the careful way Bruce would adapt everything to fit Damian’s wants and needs, disregarding yours, slowly lit a fire within you, a fire which burned with hatred towards them both.

I could see you wanting to join the vigilante life when you’re perhaps fifteen. You had watched the others train for years and would often sneak into the bat cave after dark to train yourself. You were good, really good, so you decided that you might as well start doing actual vigilante work. You did realise that you hadn’t quite reached a fighting level where that’d be a good idea, so you decided to find a more seasoned mentor. A slight detail, which would become important. Your father didn’t have the time to teach you. So who did you call up? That’s right! Jason.

Jason was reluctant to take you under his wing, at first. He even came to the manor to convince you that vigilantism wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. However, after pouring your bleeding heart out to the only brother who cared, he accepted, still apprehensive though.

Jason started his training from the top, getting into the basics swiftly. You got it down faster than he had at first thought, being an astoundingly quick-learner, something which the red-masked vigilante attributed to having Wayne blood in your veins. After locking down all the groundwork within a year or so, it was time to start your specialisation; Choice of weapons, fighting style and general tactics were all next. While training with Jason, you slowly moved into the spare room in his apartment. It wasn’t like you had a bunch of things to move, but what little you had, Jason helped transport from the manor to his primary safehouse.

When Jason considered you ready, you started working as his shadow sidekick. Never known by the vigilante community at large, but definitely a secret menace to Gotham’s criminals. Jason did a good job of keeping your vigilantism a secret After your first three years of training, you completely stopped visiting the manor, even on holidays. You were technically a legal adult now and felt no obligation to stick around a house whose inhabitants had made it clear that you were unwelcome.

No one except Alfred knew that you had completely left for the first long while, with him being the only one you had bid farewell to. The old butler refused to tell Bruce until the man noticed himself. That day would come approximately four months after you stopped coming to the manor, on Christmas eve:

Damian had been the one to notice your absence secondly, after Alfred. He commented on it during the Christmas family dinner, one which Bruce only held for his sons' sakes, and where the only two not attending were Jason and you. Even Dick was there, on a visit from Blüdhaven, spry and jolly around his favourite younger sibling. Damian.

“Where’s L/N?” The green-eyed man had questioned loudly. Silence followed. Bruce took a look around, you weren’t there. They all knew that Jason wouldn’t be attending, he had declined Bruce’s requests every year since his resurrection, instead opting to go to Roy’s place. A lump formed in Bruce’s throat, yet he didn’t know why. “Damian, can you go get them down? They probably didn’t hear that dinner was served”, Dick requested kindly with a smile on his lips. The man in question would’ve usually complained, but since it was his eldest brother who asked, he got up wordlessly. Conversation at the table resumed, with Alfred biting his lips in contemplation. ‘Should he have informed Bruce of your absence, even though he knew you were at Jason’s?’ ‘Perhaps’, he concluded, deciding to keep silent about the whole matter, it was unfair to you. You had moved on, and even if he missed you terribly, it was not his place to demand your return. A piercing “What!” Stopped all the chatter at the table. Damian came barrelling back into the dining room, grabbing the side of the door with a tight knuckle to stabilise himself. “Their room is completely empty! All their stuff is gone! The only things left are the bed and closet!”

Bruce had stood up immediately, his chair colliding with the ground behind him as he brushed by Damian, entering your room, his son had been right. Your room was empty. None of the posters you had brought with you from your life with your mother, no papers lying scattered around and no other signs of use. As Bruce looked closer at the remaining furniture, he found that a thick layer of dust coated every surface. The room was as empty as when you arrived as a child and something in Bruce’s stomach dropped. “Y/n!” He called out. No reply. Soon, the entire manor was looking for you, even Alfred pretended to do so as well, his guilt of knowing eating him up from the inside. None of them found you, you had vanished without a trace.

Somehow, your perceived disappearance became the thing to snap your family’s collective consciousness. All hyped up by each other’s worry and driven into a frenzy. Bruce believed that you had gotten kidnapped or ran away, and it scared him. The thought of his negligence having brought you to extremes was like a spear through his heart, switching something on in his brain. He ordered his available sons to scour the entire city of Gotham to find you, completely forgetting about Christmas and leaving only Alfred behind to stay at the manor, in case you returned on your own. Bruce also ensured that most rooms in the manor were lit, like a lighthouse showing you home. Meanwhile, you and Jason were celebrating the holidays at Roy’s place in Star City, oblivious to what was taking place in all the major cities. You were playing with Lian as the two men chatted about old times and the poor quality of the beer they were drinking; Roy had let you two stay for a few days, so Jason could properly enjoy the festivities without thinking of his alcohol percentage as he was the designated driver. None of you had any idea of the ruckus going on only a few cities away.

It was after this Christmas that the family changed irreversibly. Suddenly, your safety became their top priority. Spear-headed by Bruce, who had a borderline existential crisis as he believed there was an equal chance of you being dead in a ditch somewhere and you being tortured by some rogue. Bruce was overtaken by guilt and challenged this feeling into pure rage as he beat up henchmen and rogues within an inch of their lives, believing them to have somehow connected you to Batman. They hadn’t and were entirely unaware of why the bat was so obsessed with this one person. Were you perhaps vital in an ongoing detective case? Or did Bruce Wayne tip him off to be extra vigilant when finding his youngest? They had no clue.

Well, obviously, Christmas was ruined. When all of the batboys and their father returned home empty-handed, they were in no mood for celebrations. Tim simply sat in a chair, lamenting, as he stared into a wall with something akin to resignation, running calculations in his head of where you could have possibly gone, before heading for the cave to view the security footage as far back as he had stored. Bruce and Damian refused to simply stop looking for the night, not staying long at the manor before they started searching other cities, making some of their vigilante friends aware of the situation. After staying in the nearest bathroom, and regaining control of his emotions, Dick joined his youngest brother and father in their quest for searching other cities. Bruce went to Metropolis, Damian to Central City and Dick to Blüdhaven. They had planned that they would each scour a city tonight and one the night after, it would be impossible to find you during the day, as there were way too many people wandering the streets. Alfred still remained silent, he didn’t think it was fair of them to bring you back, not with the way they had treated you and not when you had clearly left of your own volition.

Bruce had informed his closest friend, Clark Kent, of your disappearance, with the alien immediately insisting on aiding in the search. “It’ll be quicker if we both look at the same time!” Clark had yelled determined through the phone, his southern drawl helping to calm Bruce’s nerves, if only slightly. That was how not only Batman but also Superman started patrolling the streets of Metropolis, in search of a single person, you. Jon too wanted to aid in the search and offered Damian to take over looking in Central city, so he could look somewhere else instead, thus covering more ground, Damian agreed and went to Coast city.

As the news spread to the citizens of these cities that the Supers and the Bats had teamed up to look for one of Bruce Wayne’s missing kids, it became the talk of everyone’s dinner tables. News channels ran multiple stories about it, despite it being Christmas, being hyped up in no small part thanks to Lois Lane, whose heart went out to the Waynes for losing someone so close to them. The story had slowly morphed from you having run away voluntarily, to you having been kidnapped as a ransom. Everyone who heard of your story believed it to be a tragedy committed by someone who couldn’t even hold up the sanctity of the holiday spirits.

Back at home, Tim reviewed all of the security footage and went as far back as four months, that was when he saw you exit the manor with multiple boxes in your arms, loading them into a red lorry. He kept looking at you walking back and forth for a while until a well-known presence stepped out of the vehicle. Jason. Tim stood still, you hadn’t just moved out of the manor, you had moved in with Jason. You had moved in with the second oldest brother, and neither of you had bothered to inform anyone! Tim seethed, he wasn’t mad at you, no, he could never be. But Jason, the mere thought of him now made Tim’s blood boil. He believed that his brother had borderline kidnapped you away from them. His ire intensified when he saw Jason enter the manor and come out with more of your stuff packed into boxes. That was enough evidence for Tim to conclude that Jason must’ve forced you to move out, that it really hadn’t been your choice at all… Skillfully ignoring how none of the people in the manor had ever given you a reason to stay, let alone noticed that you had been gone for over four months.

However, knowing that you were with Jason made him able to conclude that you were likely in one of his safehouses or spending your Christmas with his best friend Roy, those two were inseparable, after all. He decided that he would look through Jason’s safe houses, then he called up Damian, “Go to Roy Harper’s place and look for Y/n. They’re with Jason.” Tim’s voice was dark, foreboding and it even made Damian’s hairs stand straight. Truly the stuff of nightmares. Tim explained the situation to both Dick and Bruce afterwards, as he glided through the air from safe house to safe house. Letting the two know that he had sent Damian after you and that they could come home now. Even if Tim currently held the desire to puncture Jason’s lungs for taking you away from them… away from him, he knew his older brother would never let anything happen to you. You were weak in his mind, and in the rest of the family’s mind too. Perhaps they would’ve worried less if they knew of your vigilante training… or maybe not. Vigilantism is dangerous, after all.

When Roy had turned on the TV briefly, you had all been bombarded with news of your disappearance. Your apathetic face from your last high school photo was plastered on every news network, big and small. News of an all-out search party with multiple vigilantes involved was outlined in great detail. Both Jason and you looked at each other with a mix of concern and confusion. It had been four months since you had last been at the manor, Alfred knew of your departure, what were they doing?! Lian had thankfully been put to bed, none of you wanted her to view the panic that crossed all three of your faces. “What the heck are they up to?” Roy questioned no one in particular. “It’s probably a façade, someone might have noticed that ‘Bruce Wayne’ was down one child and now he needs to find me to assure them that I’m not dead. It wouldn’t be a good look to have multiple children die in your custody. No offence Jay”, you postulated, it was a far reach but still the best explanation you could come up with. Jason had agreed with your assessment, giving you a light smack to the back of your head for mentioning his death. He wasn’t mad, but he always joked that it was a sensitive subject.

The three of you tried to come up with solutions to the problem at hand when you were interrupted by an impatient knock on the door. “I’ll get it”, Roy muttered. Making his way out of the living room, where you had previously stood, and towards the entrance. The moment he turned the lock, the door was swung open by whoever was on the other side, the wooden frame just barely missing Roy’s face. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the living room. Roy barely had the time to realise who it was before they were gone, striding towards where you were.

“Damian?!” You exclaimed, confused. The green-eyed man stood in front of both Jason and you, wearing his full Robin costume. You wondered how he had gotten here so quickly, the news mentioned how he’d been to both Central City and Coast City, both were relatively far away from your current location. “I’ve come to take you home, Y/n. We have been worried for your safety and I see that Todd took full advantage of your little outburst.” Damian’s voice was spiteful, Tim had managed to fuel his ever-latent anger and direct it towards Jason. You tried to rebuke your youngest brother, but Jason stepped in front of you, ready to defend you against the green-eyed menace, “As if! They’re not going back with you, just to end up being ignored by everyone again! Just because Bruce needs his public image to be clean, doesn’t make it their problem! So run along, Demonspawn!” Damian did not take well to refusal, let alone Jason’s uncalled-for name-calling.

Damian marched past the taller man and straight towards you. As he tried to grab your forearm, he was thwarted as you defended yourself, blocking his arm and throwing him to the ground. Damian was shocked and Jason was grinning like a proud father. Roy came strolling in at the same time, having checked on Lian’s safety, no problems there. “What did you teach them?!” Damian screamed at Jason, blaming him for your newfound strength. “Everything, they’re a vigilante. I’m not gonna send them out on the streets without knowing how to defend themselves.” The second oldest brother swung an arm around your shoulders as you stood still, giving Damian a look that promised nothing good.

Well, this was unacceptable to Damian, who had silently called for reinforcement, filming your entire interaction so far on a gadget connected to his chest plate. When Bruce heard Jason’s words, he felt yet another stone sink to the bottom of his abdomen, he had let you become a vigilante, his little Y/n… No, this would not do. All of them agreed on this. Once they had you again, they all decided that anything vigilante-related would be kept out of your reach. While both Dick and Bruce were flattered that you’d share a career path with them, they could not accept the danger it brought you in.

It didn’t take long for Damian’s request to be honoured, as Bruce and the boys took a zeta tube to Star City and immediately went to Roy’s. It took no more than twenty minutes, with Damian engaging in a violent screaming match with Jason, accusing him of kidnapping you, of forcing you to play his mock Robin just to spite your shared father and of many more heinous crimes, which the green-eyed man covered your ears for, despite your attempts to get him to stop touching you. When a barrage of impatient knocks sounded on Roy’s door for the second time, he didn’t open it. Instead, he opted for locking Lian’s bedroom door and grabbing his bow as well as a handful of arrows, which he had reverse-engineered from Oliver’s original ones, aiming one at the entrance.

Of course, none of the dark-haired men on the other side waited for Roy to feel charitable enough to invite them into his home, as Dick harshly kicked the door in, wooden splinters spreading across the entrance hall’s floor. “What the hell are you doing in my home!” Roy screamed, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Lian. His bow was still pulled tight, an arrow aimed at the newcomers as a threat to not tread further into his flat. “Calm down, speedy. I will replace your door. I’m here to bring my youngest home”, Bruce muttered as he tried to enter the living room, only to be stopped by an arrow flying just past his nose. “Do not take another step. You are intruders”, Roy seethed, orange strands of hair swaying in the air as he made his way in front of the bat trio of Dick, Tim and Bruce.

Bruce was almost surprised by Roy's violent reaction. Almost. He was obviously quite aware of the redhead’s close bond with his second oldest, who had in turn evidently been closer to you than he had ever thought. You had moved in together, after all. Bruce did not blame Jason like Damian and Tim, instead, he simply saw it as an accentuation of his own failings as a father. Still, it was a very serious action to threaten the Batman, the very implications of which stunted both Bruce and Tim for just a moment. Dick wasn’t, however, immediately turning on his trusted secret weapon, skilful manipulation.

With slow steps, Dick managed to get right in front of the archer, putting a caring hand on his shoulder. “Roy. Surely, as a father, you of all people must understand why Bruce wants his child back. Y/n and he needs to mend their relationship. For Y/n. Imagine how they’ll feel years in the future when they have no father to turn to? They have the chance to get a real security net, something which I know you always wanted at their age. Surely, you must realise that just you and Jason can’t be enough… Not to go into too much detail, but the two of you haven’t been known to be the most… how would you put it… reliable? Stable? …clean?” Dick’s mention of Roy’s former substance problems broke his initial apprehension. Between Jason, you and him, it was a topic that was never mentioned, it brought back doubts and was probably his second biggest insecurity, his biggest one being… “Imagine if Y/n was Lian? You would want her to have a father, wouldn’t you? Of course, you do! That’s why you stayed. Y/n needs a father too, and not just that they need all of their brothers at their side, Jason can’t stand in for a father. Surely, you would know.” Dick continued. It was a dirty trick to mention Lian, but it worked as Roy lowered his bow, stepping aside for the Waynes to enter the room where Damian and Jason were currently in a screaming match.

Once Jason saw his other brothers and Bruce, he ripped you away from Damian and tried to push past them, holding your hand protectively and tight. It didn’t work, however, as Tim was quick to stun his older brother with a taser, right after Dick had tugged you securely into his latex-covered chest. You didn’t quite know what happened after that, Dick pried your lips and teeth apart, dropping a little round tablet on your tongue, before immediately shifting his hand to cover both your mouth and nose. Shifting the pill around in your mouth to not swallow it, while you tried to kick him away, did absolutely nothing. Dick was stronger and a greater fighter than you’d ever be, your attempts at resistance were little more to Dick than a cat scratching his arms. The blue-eyed man held you close with his free arm, gently cooing supportive reassurances as the pill melted in your cheeks, bitter and promising a nightmare when you woke up.

When your eyes opened again, you were laying in your old bed at Wayne manor. The window had been covered up with thick metal bars, spread no more apart than half of your head’s size. Much of your old stuff, which you had brought to Jason’s primary safe house, was back. They were nowhere near where you had put them when you lived here previously, a testament to how little whoever had reinstated your items actually knew about you. Sitting up, you found that your old cotton bedding had been changed for what you assumed to be silk, it was weirdly soft and you didn’t enjoy it in the slightest. Your duvet was a deep shade of green with golden accents, and you immediately knew who was responsible for the change. Damian. Perhaps he was even the one who had moved all your old stuff back. Their methodical placement, with very few items not lining the wall, certainly looked like how Damian had decorated his own room.

A large red box, filled with all your old clothes, as well as a bunch of new items stood in the middle of your room. You ignored it as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand up only to find that your vision was double-crossed and your breaths shallow, you were dizzy beyond measure and your head pounded like mad, not to mention the coating of glistening sweat, which made you feel gross just being in your own body. What in the world had Dick given you?

Still, you attempted to move to the door, even if you realised you couldn’t stand up without fainting on the spot. Grasping your mattress tightly with both hands, you gently lowered yourself to the cold floor. Moving your legs under you, you managed to sit on your knees. Leaning forward, you took the fall with your palms, now standing on all fours. You hoped no one would ever see you in this state, it was humiliating not being able to move about as you normally did, but you had to get out or at least try. You had no idea what your father and brothers wanted with you, but you had a feeling it was nothing good.

Sliding your shins forward and following the motion with your hands, you slowly made your way towards the door. Raising a hand to the knob, you were surprised when the door swung open by itself. In the door stood Tim, warm towels in his arms. “Ah! I saw on the camera feed that you were awake! I thought you might enjoy some pampering.” A beat of silence rang out as you met Tim’s eyes, pale blue like a summer sky. You almost impressed yourself as you jumped forward, drilling the top of your head into his knees, making the lanky man fall to the ground with a grunt, as you tried to crawl away as quickly as possible. Tim was quick to get back on his feet, running after you, but you had already reached the closest stairs leading down. It only took one look down the long wooden construction to realise what you had to do, even if it would hurt more than anything. Tim realised what you were trying as he saw your shifty eyes cast a sideways glance down the steps.

“Y/n! Don’t you dare!” You didn’t let him finish as you closed your eyes and leaned to the side, starting to roll down the steps… or at least you would have, had it not been for the iron grip on your forearm. At first, you believed it to be Tim, but as you started to struggle, you realised that the hold was too tight and the hand too strong. Cracking open an eye, you could feel your heart sink into your stomach. Damian. Somehow, your youngest brother was the scariest one. The others were always ambivalent to your presence, but Damian had been openly hostile to you in your youth, oftentimes attacking you verbally or physically, and you didn’t doubt he could be violent towards you again. “What are you doing, Y/n?” His voice was no-nonsense, yet his eyes were soft. A strange dichotomy. “Getting away from you psychos”, you mumbled coldly, your throat was dry and the urge to cough arose as you spoke. The green-eyed man looked pensive, a tick in his jaw betrayed how he was trying to hold in his anger. He didn’t bother answering your insult, instead, he slung you onto his back and made his way back to your room, sneering at Tim when the two passed each other. Once back in your room, Damian held you down on the bed by your wrists, as he sat next to you. A general meeting was called, involving everyone in the family, except Jason, whom you had no clue where had gone.

Bruce had arrived almost immediately, with Dick prancing in not too long after. You weren’t sure what they wanted from you, assuming this was all to save Bruce’s public image, but even if that wasn’t the reason, you were sure that it was nothing good. They had all shown up on Christmas just to take you away from the only people you considered close friends and family. No one with good intentions would do something like that. As soon as the offending Waynes had all arrived, you spat out for them to announce the purpose of your kidnapping immediately. Both Bruce and Dick seemed disturbed by you titling their actions as a kidnapping. With the latter trying to defend it as being more of an obligatory change of scenery. It didn’t work, and you waited for someone to give you a proper answer with a deadpan. Damian had loosened his grip on you as the others arrived and all sat at the edge of the bed, surrounding you and making sure that you no longer had any possibility of escaping. It was claustrophobic and ominous.

Bruce was the one to explain that they had all led you back home to build the relationships, which you had all been deprived of in your younger years, expressing his regret and familial love for you, something which was echoed by the other men in the room. You were unconvinced. Telling them to drop the act and just tell you the real reason already, exclaiming how you didn’t have time to play charades with them. No matter how much they tried to convince you of their sincerity, you would have none of it, throwing their past actions in their face as proof of their dishonourable underlying motives. The meeting adjourned with no real progress made, other than the four of them deciding that you would be a danger to yourself if left alone and, therefore, making a schedule of when each of them would be by your side.

Bruce was shocked at your inability to believe in their love for you, his guilt multiplying by a hundred as he realised how untrusting you had become of your own family. He realised that he was to blame, attempting to grasp your hand, so small compared to his. Yet, when his fingers came close to yours, you jerked away, sending him a stare filled with nothing but disgust and hatred. He swore to change this, to do anything in his power to turn you to the truth of your family’s love for you, his love for you, his youngest child. The one he had almost let slip away.

Dick was heartbroken, he had truly believed that when they revealed their regret, you’d accept them back into your life with open arms. At your apprehension, the acrobat felt as if he was brought right back to when his parents died. Once again feeling his family slip through his fingers. However, this time, he was no longer the innocent bystander, who had done nothing to deserve the situation. No, this time he felt just like the man who had cut the robes of his parents’ trapeze. He had been the one who sabotaged his relationship with you. Still, he refused to let that be how the two of you would part ways. No. He deserved a second chance, he was your brother, after all. Family doesn’t just split with each other because of misunderstandings. He promised you and himself that he would not let it end like this. The two of you would become just as close as he and Damian, no matter how long it’d take. Dick could wait... No, he couldn't.

Tim blamed Jason for your sudden unwillingness to trust their intentions. Not even giving their prior neglect any thought. It was funny how he had practically worshipped Jason when he was younger, but now? Now, he blamed Jason for having corrupted your mind. Tim had completely turned around the memories of you attempting to communicate with him when you were younger. Instead of him telling you to scram every time you walked into his room to talk, he had deluded his own mind into thinking that he used to welcome you with open arms. Certain memories of Conner and him playing video games for hours on end were changed into the two of you doing the very same. He did not blame you for your hesitance, he preferred to solely, yet delusionally, place the entire blame on Jason. The ex-Robin, who had once been Tim’s biggest idol, had now turned into his greatest enemy. The way he so readily placed the blame on someone else spoke volumes about his lack of awareness when it came to your lucidity. He was sure that he could turn your mind ‘right’, by that he, of course, meant, ‘make you believe his version of events’. Tim’s delusional memories might’ve started off as just a plan to manipulate you, but they almost immediately turned into his own perceived truth. Anything to place the blame on Jason and not himself.

While Damian also disliked Jason like Tim, he was nowhere near delusional. He was highly lucid and entirely aware that, yes, they had all treated you like you were nothing more than a nuisance. Yes, you were probably well within your right to deny them any affection or chances. Yes, their new-found obsession with your love had become unhealthy and guilt-ridden, and it was certainly to your detriment. However, Damian had always been selfish and spoiled, two traits of his that he was aware of, yet couldn’t find it within himself to change. He was brought up as a prince his entire life, first as the heir to Eth Alth'eban and then as the unofficial prince of Gotham. There had never been anything he wanted that he didn’t get, and he knew that you would be no different. He was loyal to any cause he set his mind to and now, you would be it. No matter how much you’d fight, he was willing to keep his course. It was better for the both of you, he would get to enjoy your presence, and hopefully your care, while you’d be protected from any and all harm. Damian would give you the world if you asked, literally, so he saw no reason why he couldn’t demand your affection.

After your initial shock at the kidnapping subsided, you came to realise that your family’s newfound care had nothing to do with their public image, but rather some psychotic break in their mentality. Their affections turned clingy and you slowly started to feel a sense of hopelessness. They never let you be alone and they were so demanding of your affections.

Dick was especially bad in that regard, forcing you to cuddle and be physically affectionate, even if you showed an aversion to physical touch. He didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be close with your eldest brother, which meant he lent you little to no understanding in regards to any lack in the enjoyment of his company. Bruce never stopped Dick, always excusing his overly affectionate demeanour and encouraging you to do the same. Dick would in general be very open and clingy in his affection, barely letting you leave the couch or bed so that he could just encase himself around you like plastic wrap, rubbing your cheeks together and otherwise holding onto you tightly. It would really just be a way for him to make sure yiu were still there, that you weren’t missing like the night they brought you back. It really changed him deeply. Dick would also likely move back into the manor, much to everyone’s, except you, delight. That way he could be near you more often and better follow the observation schedule that they set up.

Bruce himself was much more willing to let you have your space, but there were certain things which he demanded, like you calling him dad, or at least father, or you eating your meals next to him. The eating arrangements always put you between Bruce and Damian, across from Dick. If that wasn’t bad enough, Bruce also enjoyed watching you eat, feeling a sense of fulfilment as he ensured that you stayed safe and sound. Of course, Bruce had cut you out of vigilante life completely, and if it had been solely up to him, he would’ve wrapped you in bubble wrap and kept you by his and your brothers’ sides forever. However, he realised that bubble wrap might be uncomfortable and probably wasn’t a very breathable material for your skin, so he did the next best thing. He made sure that you were constantly provided for, as well as spoiled beyond measure, giving you any gift that he thought you could possibly enjoy. It was, in a way, his way of giving you back what he felt he owed you for all the birthdays, Christmases and other holidays that he had missed out on. Not only that, but he also enjoyed the idea of him providing for you as a good father should.

Tim spent hours trying to ‘re-program’ your mind. He would describe in great detail how the two of you used to spend time together. He became frustrated when you explained how none of it ever happened and started to double down, blaming Jason for messing up your mind. Sometimes, Tim would even drag you to his room, which had become even messier as he slowly started to spend less time there and more time with you, and force you to re-enact ‘your old memories’ by playing the games he remembered the two of you playing. He would force you to sit on his bed, between his legs, as he caged you in with the rest of his lanky body and rested his head on your shoulder. It made you claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but Tim would get pouty and extend the gaming sessions if you tried to get away. The worst part of being with Tim, however, wasn’t listening to his delusional rants about your old relationship, no, that was an unavoidable nuisance at best. The worst thing was how he would dirty Jason’s name with the vilest of allegations, none of them rooted in reality. Everything from Jason kidnapping you, to Jason wanting to put your life in danger to punish Bruce and, worst of all, that Jason was somehow in a conspiracy with the League of assassins to kill you so that Damian would be Bruce’s only true heir. Whether or not you believed anything Tim said in the beginning, it was hard to entirely brush off all his claims as they were repeated to you verbatim almost every day. Sometimes Tim would even present ‘evidence’ for his claims, like videos of Jason acting suspiciously, or messages intercepted between Talia and Jason, written in their handwriting, mentioning you in a less than ideal light. Most of this ‘evidence’ was either taken out of context or simply fabricated. With many of the letters that Tim claimed were from Talia having been written by Damian, who knew his mother’s handwriting down to the smallest flicker of her wrist.

Damian was perhaps the most refreshing of them. He wasn’t nearly as overbearing as Bruce, nor was he as clingy as Dick and Tim. Damian was simply quite demanding. “L/n, sit next to me”, “L/n, come read with me in the library”, “L/n, come walk with me through the gardens”, and so on. His commands were easy to follow, and not to be questioned, Now, that was something you could do. Damian was less of an affection seeker, he was more patient than the rest, perfectly willing to wait until you were ready to get emotionally close to him. He would wait, with welcoming arms and a composed smile. If you ever showed Damian any affection, like a hug or putting your head on his shoulder while the two of you were reading, he would experience a brief moment of shock, before laying an arm or two around you, careful not to overwhelm you, but absolutely celebrating like new years in his mind. On the other hand, if you were to try and escape, Damian would have no qualms about breaking both of your legs with a sledgehammer, Annie Wilkes-style. Damian is deeply loyal, both to you and to Bruce, but even more so to himself and his personal beliefs. Once Damian sets a goal, he will not lose sight of it, this is also why he can remain so patient with you, but it also means that even if you somehow calm down the rest of your family’s yandere tendencies to manageable levels, this will never be the case with Damian. He will forever remain by your side, ready to protect and serve you. He does almost become reverent in his familial love for you, not in a deity-like way, but he does view you as one of the only people set above him, this reflects in the painted portraits, which he will no doubt create for you. Your room and his will both end up covered in your portraits, from different angles, with different hairstyles and so on, it is almost unsettling to see your own eyes staring back at you everywhere you go, almost like a 1984 Big Brother, only it is yourself. Damian will also take you to interact with his pets, he might keep both Titus and Batcow at a distance at first, afraid that they’ll hurt you, however, he almost transfers ownership of Jerry and Alfred the cat to you, thinking you could probably need some non-human companions to help you settle back in. He would also help you re-decorate your room if you’d like, only to sneak in deep green imagery here and there to remind you of him.

They are all exceptionally loving of you, you are their little prince/princess/royal, and they make sure to treat you like one. Alfred is almost embarrassed at the over-the-top behaviour, but he accepts it, as he feels obliged to always go with what Bruce wants. Bruce was once his little boy, (not biologically but in spirit), and he understands why the man acts as he does, even if he disagrees with the intensity of their treatment of you. He does, however, offer brief moments of reprieve, when he takes observation duty and simply lets you sit in the kitchen, munching on a cookie or two, doing whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t bring you in danger. It feels nice to just be yourself, even if only for a fleeting instant.

Jason had tried to get you back many times but was constantly being fought back by the rest of the family, physically and mentally. He had tried asking Roy for help, but the redhead was afraid of what they’d do to Lian, so he refused. The other Justice League members were of no help either, while they enjoyed Jason’s presence, they were first and foremost Bruce’s friends, and as such took his side in the matter. There was nothing Jason could do, he was powerless to help you as you were practically held captive within your old childhood home.

In short, the family made you the jewel of their eyes, your previous neglect was swept under the rug and you’re expected to forget it or at least forgive them. If I were to rank them from worst to best, it’d probably be Tim, Dick, Bruce, Damian and Alfred, (let’s be honest, he’d definitely turn at least slightly yandere after a while, even if you won’t notice. Heck, the fact that he lets Bruce hold you captive definitely screams “Not entirely against you being here against your will”). I think Tim would be the worst, as he often puts the need to convince you that you have always been close and his hatred of Jason before your actual wants and needs, and he will do things which you will find traumatic and uncomfortable, just to get you to agree with him. Dick is right behind him, as he puts his own need for extreme physical validation before your comfort and will expect you to forgive him relatively fast, as well as not being particularly sympathetic to your situation. Bruce and Damian are both tolerable, with Bruce being slightly worse due to his extreme overbearingness and lesser patience. Alfred is… well he’s Alfred, he treats you like a normal person would, while just being insanely enabling in his lack of action against Bruce. You’ll never escape any of them, so you better get comfortable.

#yandere batfam #batfam x reader #batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #yandere batboys #batboys x reader #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader #tim drake x reader #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd x reader

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syrma-sensei · 5 months ago

Text

→ Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.2: A New Window

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Setting: Pre-canon; in the early 1980s.

word count: 2.6k.

Warnings/Tags: Abusive relationship, angst, self-care, Ben's potty mouth, dick talk (It's Ben, what do you expect?), implied non/dub-con, power imbalance, misogyny, implied prostitution...

Summary: Soldier Boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

When your manager told you you were to sing side by side with Soldier Boy, you didn't believe him. Despite the fact Jack has a strong proclivity to humour — depraved humour at that, you know he seldom jests about business. Jack has a strict code when it comes to you. His precious little asset. So, when he says you are to sing with America's greatest hero, then you are.

“S-Soldier Boy?” Your voice is but a squeaky hush. You still find it intimidating, albeit quite ironic to say the least.

In spite of your stupor, you curb a scoff and suffice to have a private laugh between you and yourself. You never thought the Soldier Boy would be easy.

Jack smirks, his foxy eyes glimmering, “I had a call with the Legend early this morning, he said Soldier Boy had made a specific request for a collaboration with you. He wants you to stand by his side for his next cover song.”

As you come off it, you realise it really shouldn't have been a surprise to you. The man literally eye-fucked you last night with his rather captivating green eyes. You could perceive the primal desire that seared within them when he spoke and flirted with you. You're used to this kind of reaction from men, of course. You weren't in the entertainment industry for that long, but you've always fancied yourself a quick learner; and Jack made sure you learn faster. The real surprise to you is that Soldier Boy is being subtle about it. You gotta hand it to him, you're rather impressed.

“You seem to have made quite the impression on Soldier Boy last night, sweetheart.” Jack remarks, and you smile slightly, “Thanks to me, of course, I think I taught you well…”

Your smile falters a bit, because you know he's not saying that out of the sheer notion of teasing you. No, of course not, he can't but give himself the credits, he made you after all. You can't deny the fact; he salvaged you from the cruelty of being in the streets years ago, and made you what you've become today. A promising diva with a magnificent ore.

“What should I ever be without you?” You humour him with a smile, as he's always taught you. Do not contradict a man, especially one with power.

“The pole-smoke you had been before I plucked you from the streets.” His smirk widens, and the sly gaze Jack is giving her doesn't settle well in her.

Jack stands up from his seat and saunters down to you. His thumb strokes your lower lip, the unctuous gentleness makes your stomach roil.

“Listen to me, my pretty slut,” He tugs a strand of hair out of your face behind your ear, the maliciousness in his voice is well-coated with perfected inveiglement. His thumb is back to your lower lip, “You will go to Vought, do your supposed rehearsals, and indulge every whim Soldier Boy wants from you… even if he wants to muffle his cuban cigars in your pretty tits” He yanks her jaws up to make you look at him in the eyes, ignoring your small whimper, “Because you and I are both aware that he isn't only after that pretty voice of yours. Don’t you dare fuck this up, understood?”

You swallow the large bile in the back of your throat. Jack smiles at the vehemence of your nod. “Y-Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He loosens his grip slightly. “Think of the offers you'll be lavished with after you sing next to Soldier Boy. You'll be one hell of a star, my star. Your pictures will be all over the country, and fuck, who knows, maybe you'd have a chance in L.A. too.”

Your mind floods with snaps of what your future might be. It wanders away, on a red carpet, where your heeled feet would treat with a swagger. Surrounded by camera flashes and ardent fans, just wanting you to look in their direction. And maybe, just maybe, Jack wouldn't be up on your ass anymore.

You shake your head back into the present. “What’s the song gonna be any way?” You ask Jack.

“Who fucking cares?” The latter shrugs, glancing at his wristwatch, “How about you find out yourself? Legend said Vought would send a private car to get you today.”

“So soon?” Your shoulders slump a bit.

“Is that hesitation I'm hearing?” He glares.

“N-No,” You gulp, “I’m just… it's happening a little too fast, don't you think?” Her lips curl in a dither smile.

Jack's frown deepens, “Aren’t you eager to make history?” He snickers, “Of course, a lowly whore like you isn't accustomed to the high steps of the ladder; you've always belonged at the bottom of it. What was I thinking.”

Tears start to burn in your eyes. You wonder why he's always so cruel to you? You always did what he wanted to please him. Before you started to perform at private parties and festivities, Jack used to drag you from an awful club to an even worse club, and exploited your voice and your other talents to fill up his pockets, under the excuse of enlarging and extending your audience; a good entertainer would perform for all of kind of people, he claimed. Promising that you'd make it up the ladder before you even knew it if you kept plugging. But now, and when you're at the threshold of achieving what he's always drilling into you, he is nothing but disparaging.

“No.” Your voice surprises you as it comes out with a defying tone.

“What’d you say?” Jack raises a brow.

“I said no, I don't belong to the bottom of the ladder.”

You expected the backhand slap, but you didn't expect it to make your mouth bleed.

“You’re my slut, my whore, I made you. Don't you dare concur yourself with me.” He seethes.

You grimace at the taste of iron as you swallow your blood silently, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Jack seems to rouse from his fit as his head tilts to the side. “Oh, no no, what’d I do?” He pulls his silky, cerulean handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabs it gently on the corner of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs, and you give him a weak, sanguine smile. When he's done, he tells you, “Do cover it up with some makeup; we don't want Soldier Boy to see your pretty face worked up, do we?” He grins, but it's empty of any sliver of sympathy. “Now, shake a leg, would you? Legend said Soldier Boy wanted to see you by noon. We don't want to give them the impression that we're a bunch of slackers, do we?”

You nod meekly.

Ben groans in pleasure, his body shivering in a long lost voraciousness. He wonders if the curl of your lips when you smiled at him and the enchanting glance of your eyes have something to do with that as his load washes abundantly on his hand. He's so engrossed in his high that he doesn't detect the knocks on his door.

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” Legend grouses, his head whipping away the moment he steps into Soldier Boy's bedroom.

The latter only smirks, deft hands tugging his softening cock back in his pants. “What’s the matter? Can't look at what you don't possess?” He drawls smugly, his voice saturated with a satisfied rasp from his recent ecstasy.

“I fucking knocked! Good thing I'm not an enemy.” Legend rolls his eyes behind his shades, “Who woulda thought Soldier Boy could be shanked when he whacked off.” Legend sneers, savouring in having this sleazy clapback at the supe.

Soldier Boy's smik widens, zipping his gear pants, “You’re just saying that because my dick is twice as yours.”

Legend appears to be quite unfazed, “Well, yeah, but I never had a woman who refused an ass-fuck because of it.” He sighs, “Anyway, Ms. (L/N), is here.”

“Fucking finally…” Ben perks up, a huge smile on his face. But the Legend's slight frown makes his eyes roll. “What is it?” It's not like he wants the latter’s approval, but Legend has proven his viewpoints can be useful when it comes to Soldier Boy's career.

“Look, I know the gal has the voice and the looks.” Legend says, “But don't you think she's way… below you?” Ben raises a brow as Legend continues, “There are many better options, just saying…”

Ben clicks his tongue, his temper is starting to fume, “She’s a fucking blast. She has the fucking talent. Isn't it your job to look out for talents?”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s her or nothin’.” Soldier Boy asserts, and when he reads hesitance on Legend's face, he adds, “You can still have Noir do it if you want to.” He shrugs, "But here you are, you handed it to me, because you know that I get how the job's done, and nobody can pull it off like me.”

“Fine!” Legend acquiesces, it's not like he has much of a choice. “I hope you're fucking right about her.” And you're not only thinking with your dick.

“Atta boy!” Soldier Boy pats his shoulder, “Now we don't want to keep the next diva waiting, do we?”

Your heart is pounding in your chest despite how hard you're trying to maintain your cocksure exterior.

Don't you fuck this up.

Jack's words trill in your head again and again. You close your eyes and huffs an elongated breath through your nostrils. He didn't come with you, but his agonising words never leave you, and the skeptical looks shot in your direction from Vought employees passing by don't make it any better.

What am I doing here?

You question yourself again.

To make history.

Jack's words ring again in your ears.

Although you're too immersed in your thoughts, you notice the blur of green and eagle of a man sauntering down in your way with a couple of men at the either of his side.

Your mask involuntarily slips on your face as your lips concoct a conceited grin that mirrors the cocky smirk on Soldier Boy's face. You stand up to say hello.

“We meet again, honey bun.”

“Pleasure to meet you again, sir.”

Your mustered aplomb starts to waver at the mere sight of him in that green suit; it makes you hold your breath. Soldier Boy himself is standing in front of you in his green glory with his gloved hand extended to you. He looks so different from the man you met yesterday. Maybe because of his supe suit. However, you're glad he isn't wearing the helmet, his revealed face brought some familiarity to the man you met before.

He leans in to press a kiss on your knuckles as you take his offered hand to shake.

“The pleasure is all mine, (Y/N).”

You resist the heat travelling up to your ears. “Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Ben.” He says in a somewhat ordering tone and you nod.

Soldier Boy introduces you to Legend and you shake the latter's hand too. The three of you make it to a nearby room to discuss business.

“I’d like to thank Soldier — Ben for giving me such an opportunity to perform by his side. I'm honoured, sir.” You start. “I’m gonna make sure it's worth your while.”

“You’ll sure do, dollface, you'll sure do.” He pours you and himself a glass of liquor, letting Legend pour his own glass which makes you raise a brow. It's still midday. You politely turn down the glass.

You and I are both aware that he isn't only after that pretty voice of yours.

Jack's words ring in your ear. You can clearly picture his smirking face staring at you.

“I was at the wedding last night, y'know,” Legend lights up a cigar as he drawls, “And let me tell ya that recognising a talent when I see or hear it is what pays my bills.” He takes a drag and puffs it out of his nostrils.

You thank him before he asks you about your career, making it feel like it's a job interview or something of the sort. You tell him the story you tell everybody. That you've always had a knack for singing ever since you were a child. And you used to sing at school, then you continued your passion and sang in bars and clubs until Jack beheld one of your performances and took you under his wing ever since. Which it's true, sort of.

“Jack is a good teach, he taught me everything I know to entertain my audience.” Your eyes flit momentarily at Soldier Boy whose eyes never leave you, then you grin back at Legend, “Making him a lot much like you sir. He flushes out the talent when he sees it.”

Legend grins back, taking another waft of his cigar, “Has he ever had you perform for another media before?”

You shake your head, “No, sir, my audience is still limited.”

“Ah, perfect, what could be better than a talented new face,” Legend says, “Well, I think we're all in for a treat, sweetheart. Vought would be happy to introduce you to the public. A pretty new face with a beautiful voice, singing for the first time and next to Soldier Boy. I think that would give you a great privilege if you tipped your cards right…”

“And it can be more than a one-time thing…” Soldier Boy adds, a satisfied grin on his face, but you didn't miss the way Legend's lips twitch.

“Are you trying to employ me, sir?” You raise an eyebrow.

“We’re offering you a chance of a lifetime.” Legend takes another drag, which seems rather an elongated sigh than a normal puff, “Our entertainment business is always happy to make and nurture gifted new faces.”

You stay silent for a moment. This is big. Unbelievably big. You're literally being offered a job at Vought. It's something you wouldn't even dare dreaming about. Jack didn't tell you anything about this.

Don't you fuck it up.

Jack's voice reverberates in the back of your head again.

“But I'm not a supe, sir, how come I'd be useful for the company?” You ask. “And what about Jack?”

You could've sworn you saw the slightest irritation in Soldier Boy's eyes.

“Do you see me with one, sweetheart?” Legend lets out an amused snore, “Yet, here I am.” He splays his arms open in showboat manner. “As for Jack, he'll still be your manager under our terms, of course, as agreed accordingly.”

Your eyebrows furrow. As agreed accordingly? Of course, you scoff internally. He's already sold you out to Vought the moment he sniffed the smell of cash. Well, you can't argue with that really; you owe the man your life. You're his, like her always tells you.

Despite everything being played out of your control, you still insist on having a say in this, or at least to seem so.

“Good,” You smile cordially, “Because I'd have humbly declined your offer hadn't Jack been kept in the picture.”

“Ever did any of blues shit before, dollface?”

You can detect the drastic change in Soldier Boy's tone.

“No, not as of yet.”

“Well, good thing you have someone's been long enough in the trade to teach you some of the ol’ tricks, darlin'.” His teeth bare in a shark like smile that doesn't set well in you.

Your heart paces up as adrenaline rushes through your veins, choosing to accept the challenge, “I’m down for it, Ben.”

🦅 Previous Chapter: Tenderly.

🦅 Next Chapter: Mirrors.

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist.

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @donniedarkolover, @pepsicolacoochie...

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy imagine #jensen ackles #soldier boy imagines #soldier boy fic #the boys x reader

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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 months ago

Text

Calling Your Name - No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: This one’s very sad, and very horny. I’m pregaming for Chapter 21. Title from I Don't Want to Live Forever by Taylor Swift and Zayn Malik.

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary/Warnings: Ben's first birthday awake isn't great. Takes place in Chapter 19. Usual warnings, with extra emphasis on smut.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, angst, smut

The last birthday Ben had celebrated was his 68th. Big fucking party, with lions and champagne, where women who Ben couldn’t remember the names of had thrown themselves at him, and men he’d never met in his life had congratulated him on turing 27.

It had been his eighteenth 27th birthday party. In another twelve years, he'd be 28.

The event had cost a small fortune. Likely the GDP of one of those tiny fucking European countries that had been forming as the Soviet Union fell apart. Vought had rented him a castle—Ben hadn’t even known America had castles—and flown thousands of people Ben didn’t like out to celebrate.

Today he was 106, and alone in a haunted apartment as Her voice in his head called him old.

Did you take your meds this morning, grandpa?

No. Mallory still won’t just fucking give me drugs.

He could picture Her teasing pout. Woe is you, Pretty Boy. 106 and nobody to buy you cocaine.

He sighed into the empty room, and a small part of him still hoped she’d just appear. She’d walk out of the bedroom door or in from the hall, and she'd throw herself into Ben’s arms. She'd call him a grumpy cunt, and he’d get to kiss Her until she moaned and pleaded, and tell her he loved her. Maybe she’d get on her knees, or let Ben fuck her right here on the sofa. She’d smile at him. She taunt him and ask if Social Security had an expiration date, but she’d be smiling at Ben the whole time so he’d just scoff and let her.

She hadn’t told Ben her own birthday. He’d asked, once, all the way back in the safe housem, and She’d laughed. Told him she stopped celebrating her birthday when Homelander kidnapped her.

“It loses the magic, Pretty Boy.” Her voice had been amused and bored, but there had been something hollow in Her eyes. “Being legally dead makes birthdays seem kind of pointless.”

He’d dropped it then. Now he wished he hadn’t. Ben wanted to know so that he could be a pain in everyone’s ass about it. He’d make them throw a party, and someone would provide a cake—homemade, chocolate, with a disgusting amount of frosting and ice cream just in case She hated cake—and everyone would sing that stupid birthday song in a voice worse than Hers until She felt loved.

He’d make sure she felt loved. Ben would buy her a gift—he wasn’t sure what, but he’d figure it out—and it would make her feel seen. Then he’d stand silently behind Her while everyone celebrated how fucking perfect she was, and cut the cake so he could make sure she got the largest piece.

Then he’d fuck Her. He’d carry her home, into this same apartment, and up the stairs into the bed so he could fuck Her. Romantically. If Ben got to do this, it would have to be romantic. In this perfect world he was creating for himself, they’d been fucking for a while now and he’d already told Her he loved her, so he’d know all the things she likes in bed, and which of them made Her come apart the fastest. Ben would be able to use that knowledge to throughly wreck Her—turn her into a sweaty, moaning work of art below him—and remind her that he loved Her the whole time.

That was what he wanted for his birthday. Her, home, in Ben’s arms so he could fuck her and tell her he loved her. So he could get some proper fucking rest tonight, and wake up with Her at his side. So everything could finally be good again.

He didn’t have a cake. He hadn’t told anyone it was his birthday, because it didn’t really fucking feel important. They had work to do, and no one on the team was going to jump out of their chair to celebrate one of Ben’s infinite birthdays. So he grabbed a candle from the cabinet—Balsam and Cedar, Her surprisingly aggressive purchase—went to light it, and realized they didn’t actually own a lighter. She was a walking lighter, so neither of them had bothered to purchase one.

It was almost midnight. This dogshit fucking day—where he’d eaten dinner with the team and combed through Vought records and tried not to think about how She was here, wasn’t home—had been the same as yesterday. Would be the same as tomorrow. All the days would be the fucking same, numb, thoughtless shit until She was home.

She’d tell Ben her birthday when she got home. He’d figure out a way to get Her to tell him. He wouldn’t be able to trick it out of her the way she was always somehow getting Ben to say what she wanted him to. If he asked, she’d ignore him or tell him to shut the fuck up.

He could fuck it out of Her. That was the only field between them where Ben seemed to have the slightest advantage. She wasn’t as fucking excellent at hiding how much she wanted Ben as he was at hiding how much he wanted Her. But he had months of practice. Weeks and weeks in the safe house of fucking his hand to the thought of Her without her catching on. And every time Ben had touched her she’d whimpered his name and fallen apart and fucking begged, so that’s how he’d figure out Her birthday. He’d make her cum on his face once—just because he wanted to—then he’d fuck Her into the mattress until Her perfect, insane, brilliant fucking brain was empty and she was molding into Ben’s body.

He’d lean down, lips against Her ears, and hiss the question.

“When’s your birthday.”

She wouldn’t answer immediately. She’d just moan and stare at him with lust-blown, pretty eyes. So Ben would pull all the way out of Her until she whined, and slam back in hard enough to break the bed before asking again.

“Tell me your birthday, beautiful, or you don’t get to fucking cum.”

It would be a bluff. She was a goddamn force of nature when she came, and Ben wasn’t strong enough to deprive himself of watching Her lips part and head throw back, feel Her back arch off the bed and her cunt squeeze around his cock like it had before on his fingers, hear Her scream his name. Maybe She’d squirt. Ben had felt how fucking wet she could get, maybe if he fucked her right, She’d squirt.

And She’d call the bluff. Even in the haze of Ben’s body over hers, between moans and begs, she’d call him on his shit.

“Fuck,” she whimpered when he repeated that same move again. “Fuck you, Ben-“

“Birthday.”

It would take a while, likely several minutes of that exact dance, but he’d get it. Ben would lean down to Her mouth and kiss Her, sloppy and deep, fucking her faster, and tell Her he loved her.

Then She'd tell him, and cum.

This was a foolproof fucking plan. Ben was a goddamn genius.

Maybe I don’t have a birthday, Benjamin. Have you considered that?

Everyone has a fucking birthday.

Well, what’s yours?

Ben frowned into the air. She was a figment of his imagination, she should know his birthday. Today.

Oh. The room was silent for a second. I forgot, I guess. Sorry.

Don’t apologize. If you want to do something for me, come home.

It wasn’t really worth saying. This wasn’t Her, and even if it said, of course, Pretty Boy. For your birthday. The real her would still be across the river at Vought tower. And Ben had to be okay with that.

I want to. You know I want to, but I can’t. I miss you and love you, Ben, more than anything, but I can’t come home.

He sighed. I miss you and love you too.

Stop saying that-

Shut the fuck up. If you’re allowed to say you love me, I can say it back.

But-

No. It’s my birthday, no telling me I can’t say that I love you on my birthday.

Silence, then okay. For your birthday. Old man.

I love you, brat.

I love you too, Benjamin. Happy birthday.

End Note: I made Ben a Taurus, and I stand by that.

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd

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ludicdoll · 7 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: american reader, smoking, soft farleigh, very slight angst, fluff

synopsis: you and farleigh smoke under the sunset, reminiscing on your exciting summer.

a/n: go listen to weak for your love by thee sacred souls nowww

you sigh against the warm breeze, staring up into the golden sky. your summer was coming to an end, which means you would have to leave saltburn, which means you would have to go back home to america. you thought you wouldn’t care when summer ended, in fact you were excited to go back home—but now everything’s changed. your summer started out with felix inviting you after the graduation party. he said “everyone will miss you if you leave so early.” he was definitely just trying to make you feel better, but you caved in on his offer anyway. on the first day you arrived at the estate, elspeth almost immediately claimed you as one of her own children.

she was a very sincere woman, her blonde hair was always pinned up to frame her classic face, and her clothes always reflected her wealth. you were so intimidated by the catton’s at first, but as you got to know them better, you realized they’re quite normal. sure—the family heirloom art pieces on the walls and their 200 acres of land weren’t normal, but on the surface of their personalities, they were just average people who happened to be blessed with money. during your stay at the mansion, you found yourself talking to farleigh more often. at oxford you and farleigh never talked much, only sharing occasional glances from across lecture halls. you shared the same friend group with him due to felix and got along surprisingly well.

you both had witty personalities, a stubborn flare, and incredible fashion tastes. you recall your first real conversation with farleigh. it was on your first night at saltburn during dinner. you were seated next to him and gossiped the whole time about annabel and felix’s situationship. you laughed and smiled at his words and he seemed to be feeling just as amused as you were. now and then you would have your petty, harmless arguments, but nothing too extreme. in the midst of all of the catton’s chaos, you and farleigh found peace in each other. slowly, he even opened up a little to you. he talked about his mom, claiming that he was scared that if he left england, he would never get an ounce of money again. you pitied him truthfully. however, he was also incredibly smart, he just never bothered to show it.

farleigh also loved literature, he would roll his eyes at you whenever you’d call him a nerd but he enjoyed classics, drama, mysteries, romance, almost everything and anything. you would think that him living a chaotic, party filled lifestyle meant that he never had any time to pick up on any other hobbies or interests, but he did. he learned french and was surprisingly good at it, he didn’t speak it fluently—but he knew enough to hold up a conversation with someone random.

you sit in your window nook, closing your book and placing down on the cushion, staring out of the cracked window as you ash your cigarette out of the open panes. it’s mid september, the weather was slightly cool, but the humidity from the light rain earlier had made it slightly warmer. you raise your fingers to you mouth, dragging out the smoke from your cigarette. you lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes as you breathe in the air around you. suddenly, you’re awoken by a knock on your door. “come in!” you call out as a head of curls poke through the door. farleigh smiles before closing the door behind him and walking over to you. he’s wearing a dark navy ralph lauren cable knit sweater (very fitting for him) and black trousers. he looked like he just got back home from something. “having your main character moment, i see?” he teases as he sits down across from you in the nook. you roll your eyes, softly shaking your head with a laugh. he grins, looking down at the book in your lap.

farleigh reaches over, grabbing it before reading the title outloud. “one hundred years of solitude,” he repeats. “how are you just now reading this?” you snatch the book out of his hand before placing it back down next to you. “oh, i’m sorry i’m not a nerd like you.” you reply mockingly. farleigh gives you a deadpan expression before cocking his head to the side, staring at you with low eyes. he readjusts himself in the cushion, scooting closer to the where his legs were touching yours. “venetia won’t be able to shut up when you leave.” he mutters. you turn, smiling weakly. you’ll miss her too, you’ll miss everyone when you’re gone. the two of you sit in silence for a minute, soaking in the beautiful shift in colors within the sky. you pull a cigarette out of its box next to you, offering it to him. he stares at you, almost like he was hesitating to take it or not. of course, he couldn’t decline so he swiftly took it out of your fingers.

you grab your lighter and ignite the flame by his lips. he immediately groans quietly, a wave of relief glowing across his face. “where were you all day?” you ask. “you just disappeared during brunch.” farleigh blows a thin line of smoke out of his mouth, shrugging. “the pub.” he looks over your empty room, biting down on his bottom lip. you used to have so many posters and polaroids littered across your walls, but you had already packed all of your stuff—leaving the room blank. “god, it’s so boring in here now.” he says. his breath suddenly hitches when he sees your suitcase in the corner of the room, packed and ready for your leave. you notice this and reach over to touch his shoulder.

in an attempt to lighten the mood, you rub at his arm. “aw, you gonna miss me, far?” you ask with an exaggerated sad face. farleigh scoffs, chuckling softly at your expression. “mmm, don’t get ahead of yourself.” you giggle, turning your head to look at the sky above you. you had made so many memories here, so many friends you wouldn’t be able to replace back in the states. a part of you wished you could stay in england, but another part of you missed your home. “do you remember the first time we met?” farleigh breaks the silence suddenly. you glance over at him, raising a brow. “it was at felix’s acceptance party. you showed up wearing a bold silver sequin skirt, very bold.” you cringe as you recall your odd fashion choices in your first year at oxford.

“oh god, don’t remind me.” you cry out as you pinch your nose bridge with a defeated sigh. farleigh laughs, exhaling the smoke out of the window. “truly … it was definitely the talk of the night.” he adds on to make you wince further. you raise a hand, waving it in front of him, hoping he’d stop talking. “but—i liked your outfit that night. i thought that you had to be interesting if you were wearing that.”

“really?” you ask. he nods, a smirk dancing on his lips. you sit up, leaning closer to him. you stare up at farleigh through your lashes, cocking your head to the side. “and was i interesting?”

farleigh seems to get a rise out of this sudden confidence from you. he leans down closer as well, just inches away from your face. “mhm,” he hums as he raises his cigarette back up to his mouth. you can’t help but stare at his pink lips as he takes a long drag. the two of you exchange quiet glances, a thick tension rising in the air. “whatever shall i do without you?” he teases as he leans back on his palm. “well, i’m not leaving until tomorrow morning.” you glance over at the grand clock in the corner of the room before turning back to meet farleigh’s gaze. “—we still have a couple more hours together.”

“yea? it’s not enough.” he muttered the last part quietly, but loud enough for you to dicipher. farleigh looked so soft under the sunset, the rays of pink light illuminating his face perfectly. your stomach suddenly flips, a wave of heat spreading to your face. he looked almost angelic in a way. you never thought about your right dynamic with farleigh. others around you would often say you and farleigh were close, maybe a little too close. you liked sitting in his lap and he liked holding you, not like it was im a sexual manner, you just genuinely enjoyed his touch. it was purely platonic to you from the start. but as you spent more time with him, you realized his demeanor would get you a nervous mess at times.

you thought you didn’t like farleigh, but the fuzzy feeling that would overtake you would make you squirm under his stare. it made you feel like you were twelve again with your first crush. “maybe we could just spend the next few hours talking.” farleigh says. you blink, examining in his soft features. the longer you stared, the more you’d notice certain aspects of him face you never acknowledged before—like how he had very faint fading freckles in the summer, or that one curl that would fall on his forehead perfectly. you nod in response to his suggestion before leaning back to your original position. for the next two hours, you and farleigh just sit there, rambling on about everything you could think of. your conversation ranged from shit talking to philosophy, then to the planets orbiting around us. you talked so long to the point where the sun started to set, slowly dipping below the horizon with a burst of pinks and oranges. you grab at his arm, gasping quietly as you gaze up at the sky. “look!” you point out. he raises a brow, glancing back and forth between you and the sunset. “what?”

“the sky!” you say in an obvious tone. “happens everyday, nothing new.” he says nonchalantly as he releases himself from your grip, resting his head against the window. you groan, smacking his arm with the back of your hand. “okay, well it’s my last sunset in england.” you turn your body fully so it’s facing the window, legs crossed underneath you as you put out your cigarette. you feel the cushions slowly sink when farleigh scoots closer. he places his head on your shoulder, sighing quietly. “m’gonna miss you.” his voice is low, rough but smooth at the same time. you tilt your head to look at him, giggling at his sudden honesty. “i’m serious,” farleigh picks his head back up from your shoulder, tracing his thumb along your jaw.

his eyes flicker back and forth from your eyes to your lips, his face show a look of contemplation. for a moment, you wish he would come back to america with you. the thought of him living with you didn’t bother you. in fact, it sounded perfect. he was a genuine person—and yes, he was a bitch but he was truthful and sweet when he wanted to be. “i wish i could stay longer.” you whisper. farleigh trails his thumb up to your bottom lip, tilting closer to you. “you could,” he says. you laugh awkwardly, “i’m sure the catton’s are sick of me though.”

“i’m not.”

you stare up at him, his dark eyes boring into yours. he looks so vulnerable right now, so calm and content. it was a rare occurrence if you saw farleigh not gushing out insults left and right. his voice made you shiver, goosebumps lining your skin with each syllable that left his pretty mouth. “i—i don’t want you to go.” farleigh stutters out with a soft sigh in a way that sounded like it was ashamed of admitting it. before you could respond, his lips crash onto yours. his pace is frantic at first then it softens, kisses delicate and slow. farleigh’s hand on your jaw trails around to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, pulling him close to your body. you could feel his warmth radiating off of yours, it was so sudden. you never expected to be making out with the farleigh start. there’s so many things running through your mind, but they all vanish into clouds as you melt against his soft lips. your stomach flutters rapidly, a slight buzz rising to your head. he grins into the kiss, a shitfaced grin at that. farleigh slips his tongue in your mouth, the subtle taste of liquor on him.

“far—” you whimper through labored breathing. he slows, pulling away from the kiss as he rests his forehead against yours. his hand falters from the back of your head to your neck. “fuck, you don’t understand what you do to me.” you crane up, looking at him with doe eyes. “please stay. just for a little while.” he begs, brows furrowed with worry as he laces his fingers into yours. you swallow, glancing over at the packed suitcase on the floor. you peer back up at farleigh, a small smile tugging on your lips. “please.” he repeats.

“okay,” you breathe out, “i’ll stay for a little longer.”

#archie madekwe #archie madekwe x reader #farleigh start x reader #saltburn #farleigh #farleigh start #saltburn x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh x reader

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honey-flustered · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 10: Chastity

Pre-Serum!Steve Rogers x Dark!Nun!Reader

Summary: What if you convinced Steve Rogers to never become thee Captain America and instead remain a virgin loser for your entertainment.

Warnings: 18+ smut, male chastity device, dom!reader, kissing, reader rides dildo, mutual orgasm, manipulation, some fluff and angst, body insecurities (steve)

You held his head against your bosom, stroking his hair. His arms are tight around your body yet respectful not to linger anywhere inappropriate, tears soaking through the material of your robe.

Steve hates being so vulnerable in front of anyone other than his best friend, Bucky. It’s already bad enough that’s ‘the little guy’ so everyone expects that of him. But somehow you were able to break down his walls. Maybe it’s because of the maternal nature you possess or that you hadn’t laughed at him when he’d told you that he has never been with a woman. Either way he’s found some comfort in you.

You tug on the hair at the back of his neck; bringing his tear-stained face back to your gentle, smiling one. He looks up at you with unshed tears that make his eyes spark from the dim spotlight within the confessional.

“Oh, Stevie,” You coo, stroking a thumb over his cheek. “You should know that there is always a place for you here in our church. And you don’t have to change anything about yourself in order to be happy. God made you in his image and he makes no mistakes.”

“Then, why? Why do I feel so wrong?” He sniffles, wanting to pull away from you despite the crammed booth having little space for either of you to part. Still, you press into him; his back against the wall. “M-maybe Project Rebirth is a sign from God. It could be good for me. I can finally be a hero.”

You take his delicate hands in yours, locking your fingers together and holding them in between your bodies. “You are wonderfully and fearfully made, Steven. That Project Rebirth you speak of is unnatural. A serum that makes people stronger? Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Join our church. Stay with me.”

Your cinnamon breath tickles the surface of his lips as you part your arms slightly, leaning in closer, fingers still interlocked.

“But what about giving our country a fighting chance? What about duty? Saving lives?” He asks. “Doesn’t any of that matter?”

“Of course,” You say. “But that shouldn’t be for you to worry about. You can still save lives here. Maybe not in the conventional ways but it’ll be just as important.”

“And how about the way I look? I want to know what love is like. To have a woman I can call my own and marry her. I can’t have that if no woman has ever looked my way. I-I’ll never know the sweet bliss of…” Steve hopes to choose his words carefully, not wanting to offend a holy woman such as yourself. “Being intimate with a woman. My friend Bucky tells me all about it and I could only dream of it. He does a lot of things I can only dream of, in fact.“

“If strength and intimacy is what you seek, then I can show you a much more honorable and godly way of obtaining it without having to inject any questionable substances into your bloodstream.“

“What is it?” He asks, almost pleading, “I’ll do whatever it takes in order to find my purpose. I’ll be good.”

“Oh, I know you will, Steven,” You lap your tongue across his lips receiving a gasp from him. His lips, now parted, allow you to dip your tongue into his mouth, licking his tongue and teeth before parting ways. “Your virginity is your best asset.”

“I don’t understand.” A single tear streams down his cheek, feeling as if he’s at his wits end.

“Steven, I’m going to show you just how strong you can be, just as you are now, by playing to your strengths,” You explain. “Chastity. It’s strength in resilience. If you practice it long enough, you won’t feel the need to desire such trivial things like glory and sex. Desire is of the flesh and that’s ungodly. But I have faith in you, Steven. I know you’ll resist the urge to be enveloped in the inner walls of a woman ever in your life.”

“Ever?” He pouts.

“Ever,” You echo, breathing against his neck. “But you can still feel really good.”

“W-where do we begin?” He asks softly, body involuntarily arching when your thick thighs straddle his skinny leg.

“We’ll begin your first lesson now,” Your hands slip beneath his shirt, lightly scratching his happy trail. “Let’s get you to my room.”

You exit the confessional and Steve mourns the loss of your warmth against him. With your hand outstretched you wait for him to take it. Once he does, you lead him around the convent. At the door to your room, you scan around the area to assure there isn’t anyone around before you’re pulling him inside by the collar.

“Have a seat.” You purr and he obeys.

You rummage through your drawer, retrieving a male chastity cage with a dildo attachment and holding it up for him to see.

“Is that meant for me?” He asks, cowering a little.

“Yes, sweet boy, you’ll wear it and then you’ll get to fuck me with it on. You won’t ever actually get to be inside me but it’ll still feel really good.” You drop down on your knees at the edge of your bed, tugging his pants and underwear down.

He’s semi-hard, blushing when your eyes land on his cock.

“It’s so pretty, Steven. I wish I could taste you.” You admit, receiving a quiet mewl from him.

You take him in your hands hurriedly lock his member into the device. It’s a snug fit for him, uncomfortable as his penis had no room to swell. You kiss his thighs before crawling over him onto the bed and your mouth meets his in messy kisses. He’s sloppy because he is inexperienced at kissing and you’re sloppy because you truly desire him and have no patience to slow down.

You break away with a lingering suck of his tongue before you start removing clothing. His heart beats rapidly as he watches you. It’s not long before your bare breasts are exposed to him and all you’re left in is your black lace panties and matching garter and stockings.

“You’re breathtaking.” Steve gasps, wanting to reach a hand to touch you but he wanted your permission first. Reading his mind, you take one of his hands and bring it to cup your breast.

“It’s okay. You can touch every part of me,” You bring his hand to your wet core and his breath hitches. “Even right here, long as you don’t stick your fingers inside. Can’t have any form of penetration from any part of your body whatsoever.”

He nods, hooded eyes fluttering shut when you kiss him again mid-nod. Your hands rip open his shirt, the buttons skittering across the room. He’s officially naked, a blush painting his face red once he realizes this. His insecurities get the best of him as he tries to hide himself discreetly, pulling you down against him so you don’t check out his body. You pin his hands above his head and smile down at him.

“See? You’re perfect, Steven.” You say so warmly that it makes him tear up with joy. While one of your hands keeps his hands pinned, the other pulls your panties to the side as you sink down onto the small dildo. You groan, staring into his eyes as you take it inch by inch.

You build momentum and a soft ‘plap, plap, plap’ noise fills the air with every thrust inside you. Steve’s cock throbs as he watches your face contort with pleasure. It’s a delicious and agonizing feeling to see you get off but to not feel the reward of being inside you or having any release.

You curl a hand around his neck, squeezing lightly and he gurgles a whimper; the pleasure is like lightning through his body yet when it reaches his cock it builds and builds to no satisfying relief.

“Fuck, Steven,” You whine against his lips. “Wish it was your cock inside me instead. I’d want you to cum in me over and over.”

He can’t breathe. It’s torture. It’s paradise. Sweat clings to his forehead with the exertion from the intensity of the situation. “Please…fuck it’s so much.”

You hold his face in your hands, wiggling your tongue against his, “You’re doing so good for me, Steven. Taking your first lesson so well.”

He softly grazes his fingertips up and down your back, hoping the feather-touch would not only heighten your pleasure but increase his own sensitivity.

“What if we just forget about chastity,” You pants, grinding your hips down hard. “What if instead I take the real thing? You’ll finally get to know how tight, wet and warm I’d feel around your gorgeous cock.”

He so badly wanted to say yes but if he’s meant to prove his strength then he must decline. This was clearly a test.

“As much as I want to, I want you to be proud of me. So, I’ll have to say no.” Steve whimpers.

“You’re such a good boy,” You moan, kissing him deeply while you bounce hard against him until you’re screaming out your release. “Oh, Stevie, I love you!”

His eyes roll into the back of his head at your admission as he orgasms hard. It’s a new kind of feeling, one that is so foreign to him that holds onto you for support. Cum pools out of the device, sticky and clinging between your legs and spilling all over his stomach.

When you’re done using him—walls no longer flexing around the silicone toy—you lay beside him curling up against his side with your head resting on his bony chest.

“That was incredible.” He sighs out.

“You’re incredible,” You trace a finger along his stomach. “See how much fun you can have when you don’t let your desires weigh you down. You’ll be so strong in no time.”

“You really think so.” He asks with a dopey smile, showing off his biceps.

“Without a shadow of a doubt.” You smile wickedly.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader smut #pre serum steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fandom #x reader #captain america x reader #captain america x reader smut #captain america x you

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year ago

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Always Yours, Never Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader

Universe One - The Original

Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

In every universe there's a version of you that exists. In some of those universes, you're in love with me; in others, you don't even know my name. None of it matters though, because when I find you, I will have you, I'll make you love me, and I will never lose you again.

Inclusivity

Reader is not race coded, reader lives in New York in North America but isn't necessarily American, reader is not religion coded, reader is smaller than Miguel but like so is almost everyone, reader is female.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, obsession, Miguel is not Spider-Man, does NOT take place in the MCU, Miguel is a physicist, Miguel needs therapy, smut, violence, blood play, yandere, protective, obsessive, possessive, murder, suicide, drunk driving, anal sex, oral sex, major character death, romance, angst. - Some (not as triggering) tags were left out in order to avoid spoilers.

Word Count: 2.6k

It was a morning like every other.

You opened your eyes, taking in your surroundings, feeling the stirring of Miguel while he snored against your chest. Looking over at the clock, you noticed it wasn’t quite seven yet, and it would still be a few minutes before your alarm sounded, signaling it was time for you both to get ready for work. He shifted a little, smacking his lips together before going back to his mouth-breathing slumber. Precious.

You’d only been married for a year, but it was a perfect year. It was a year filled with tear-inducing laughter, eating takeout on the couch, and afternoon naps when you and Miguel both managed to get the day off together. You couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your forever, and you knew he felt the same.

You carded your fingers through his dark hair as you lay there, enjoying the scent of his shampoo and wondering if you’ll ever get tired of it. Something about it made your heart swell, and it reminded you that you were home. He rolled his cheek into your torso more, mouth still open and creating a dark spot on your shirt where drool spilled out. A sharp snore erupted from him as he stirred, startling you. You giggled, feeling silly for jumping so suddenly.

That sound – He loved that sound.

Your sweet little laugh that permeated through everything, that woke him out of the deepest sleep, that brought him back to the present every single time he heard it. He looked up at you, his breath always catching in his chest at the sight of you, so beautiful in every single way; nothing could change how you made him feel.

“Good morning handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from his stubbled cheek, “you were out. Having a good dream?”

You started to slide out of bed, but he caged you in with his ridiculously strong arms, keeping you in place and mumbling something incoherent against your stomach.

“Baby, we have to get going. I have that big meeting today with the art director at the firm, and you have to pitch your idea to the board,” you said, tapping his shoulder.

He looked up at you again, eyes still hooded from sleep. He sighed, leaning up on his elbows and pressing his lips against yours hungrily. Miguel seemed to growl sometimes when he got in the heat of passion with you. His massive hand grabbed your hip and pulled you under him further, while the other cupped the back of your head to make the impossibly deep kisses even deeper.

“We have a few minutes,” he insisted, reaching between you both to pull his sweats around his thighs.

You moaned, another sweet sound you made that Miguel could record and listen to on repeat for an eternity. Such a simple noise and yet it made a shiver run down his spine almost every time he heard it. He brushed the head of his cock against your inner thigh, making your skin slick with his precum. He pulled aside your panties, not bothering to take them off; he wanted you now, and removing them would take too much time.

No matter how long you and Miguel had been together, and no matter how many times he split you open, you never quite got used to the stretch. You gasped, arching your chest into his with that first thrust, giving him the opening to wrap both arms around your back and pull you close. You loved the sound of his fast and desperate breaths while he huffed in your ear, chasing his release, and trying to make sure you got yours too. He knew exactly how to position himself to ensure he hit all the right spots, not that it would be difficult given his size; he hit almost every spot.

“Oh, hermosa, always so tight, so wet…” he grunted as he slid forward again full to the hilt.

“F-fuck, Miguel!” You dug your nails into his back, putting your lips against his chiseled chest.

“Use your teeth on me, baby, give me something nice to look at when I change out of my lab coat tonight,” he said playfully before feeling your teeth latch onto his tanned skin.

He let out a low groan, enjoying the combined pain and pleasure. He snapped his hips forward and you cried out. He buried his face into your neck, pulling your mouth off his chest. He wanted to smell you; in an almost feral way, Miguel wanted to pull you close and devour you. He sucked on your neck, drawing some of the tender skin into his mouth, nipping and licking while you turned into a gasping, writhing mess beneath him.

“So perfect, honey-fuck—“

You gasped as he started fucking you faster, driving his cock deep into your fluttering cunt. You felt like you were going to rip in half, as you often did when he was inside of you. He cupped the back of your head and looked into your eyes. Fuck he loved you. With other guys you’d dated, there was always an air of doubt, but never with Miguel.

He kissed you, tangling his tongue with yours. You whined into his mouth, he loved the way he could send you reeling with his cock alone. You took him so well, you were perfect.

“I could fill you up forever, you know that?” He asked before bottoming out in your warm channel once more. “Could spend a lifetime stuffing you with my cum and it wouldn’t be enough, hermosa.”

Miguel always knew just what to say to make you come undone. You felt the heat pooling in your core, the sensation he’d given you time and time again. Your body was both vibrantly alive and tingling numb all at once. You dug your nails into his shoulders once more, he winced and hissed.

“Oh shit, baby—ah!”

Miguel’s pace slowed but he didn’t stop the rocking of his hips as he pumped you full of hot cum. You felt it spilling into you, painting your walls white while he fucked you through it. You helped him along as you reached your own climax, your tight cunt milking his cock for every last drop it could give you. Your screams filled the house, as they always did when he made you lose your mind.

He always felt like he had to use every ounce of his strength to avoid crushing you underneath his mass after he was spent. You kissed his cheek, like you always did when the two of you were done being intimate. He chuckled before pulling out of you and getting off the bed. Miguel went to the bathroom and cleaned up before tossing a towel your way.

“Honey, a couple girls from the office wanted to go out for drinks tonight so I think I’ll join them, that okay?” You finished cleaning yourself up before making your way to the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth.

“Who’s going?” He spit in the sink.

“Stacy and Mira.” You finished using the toilet before starting the shower.

“Those two? Really?”

He wiped his mouth and turned to you while you stepped into the shower. Miguel didn’t consider himself the controlling or possessive type, but those two had a tendency to be wild and unpredictable. He wasn’t going to tell you no. He didn’t get a woman like you by treating you as though you were his property, but he was going to make it known that he wanted you to be careful.

“I know, I know,” you said as you started washing yourself, “I’ll be careful, daddy. I’ll be home at 10:30 on the dot.”

He chuckled, “you know if you keep calling me that, I might have to take you back to bed, hermosa.”

You laughed and continued getting ready. You knew he wasn’t a fan of your work friends, but that wasn’t going to stop you from going out anyway. It’s not that you were a party girl, in fact your idea of a good time was curling up on the couch with Miguel and a good movie. It was just nice to get out for a little while and forget about the struggles of life.

Miguel always -always- kissed you goodbye before you both left for work. Even if you’d had an early morning disagreement, leaving you both pissed off and ready to ring each other’s necks, he made sure to kiss you.

“Adiós, mi vida,” he pressed his lips to yours just before you got into your car.

There were so many things that he would spend his life wondering, like: did you know you weren’t ever going to step foot in that house again? Did you know that was the last time you would ever get in your car to go in for another mundane day at work? Did you know that would be the last time you’d ever kiss your husband?

Probably not…but he would never forget.

Miguel was woken at 10:53pm that night out of a dead sleep to a knock on the door. He jumped up, noticing immediately that you weren’t in the bed with him. There was another knock, louder this time.

He knew. Deep down he knew that something had happened to you. With a shaking hand, he opened the door. You weren’t dead, and with that he found some relief, but your odds of survival were slim. Three dumb girls left the bar that night, one of which was too drunk to drive, but you let her drive you anyway. Only one of you had survived the accident, and it was you.

Miguel didn’t care that your face was disfigured, or that you were missing five teeth. He didn’t care that you weren’t going to be able to walk again, or that you might need him to spoon feed you for the rest of your lives together. He only cared that you were still breathing, even if it was labored and sounded like someone sucking the last of their beverage through a straw.

“I got here as fast as I could,” your step-sister, Emily, arrived at the hospital just an hour after Miguel had.

She put a hand on Miguel’s back as she sat next to him in the waiting room, seeing how distraught he was. With a heavy sigh, she brought both hands together and held onto her coffee cup as though her life depended on it. He could see her shaking, but he was still too angry for empathy. In fact, he thought to himself that he was glad the other two women had died, because if they hadn’t…he might’ve just killed them himself.

“How’s she do–”

“Not good,” he snapped, looking over at her.

“Oh, Miguel…” she wiped a tear from his face, “she’ll pull through, she always does.”

Except this time, you didn’t. You lived for forty-two more painful hours before your lungs collapsed and there was nothing any of them could do to save you. It was like his heart had been ripped out and trampled by a stampede.

Mi vida.

He thought about killing himself that night; considered taking the gun out of the safe he kept in the closet, holding the barrel to his skull and pulling the fucking trigger. There was nothing -nothing- that mattered to him more than you, and nothing that ever would matter more than you.

He didn’t though. There was a nagging in his head that told him not to do it, and so he put the gun back in the case and closed it, replacing it in the closet. He helped your step-sister, step-father, and your mother with funeral arrangements, but he hardly participated. Was he really supposed to give a shit what the flowers that surrounded your casket looked like? Fucking stupid.

Nothing felt the same after you were gone. Coffee didn’t smell the same, and food didn’t taste the same. He even had to start going to an actual hairdresser to get his hair trimmed because you weren’t there to do it for him. He was lost without you, in every way.

Months went by, and he’d hoped it would get easier, but it hadn’t. He still saw you in every aisle of the grocery store, picking out your favorite snacks. He still woke up in the night in a sleepy haze, reaching to wrap his arm around your torso, but he never found it. Miguel would sometimes still accidentally pour two cups of coffee on Sunday morning, forgetting that he’d be sitting alone on the patio.

“Dr. O’Hara!”

He jumped, looking up from his notepad to see his boss, Dr. Carleton Drake. The man looked down on him where he sat. He put a hand on Miguel’s broad shoulder.

“I know you’re still going through a tough time here, but we’re on the forefront of a scientific breakthrough and I need you to be present, alright?” He raised his dark eyebrows at Miguel. “I need that brain of yours on this project. I need you to get it together, big guy.”

The breakthrough in question was something right out of a science fiction movie. Miguel had always scoffed at Drake’s overly ambitious dream of traveling the multiverse, assuming the multiverse even existed. Truth be told, he’d thought it was all hogwash, but the idea that struck him that day gave him hope…hope that he might see you again.

It took three more months of sleepless nights, tireless tinkering and research for him to make something that worked. Drake was beyond impressed with the initial test, sending a rabbit from their universe to another and bringing it back with a camera attached to its collar.

“Someone dispose of the carcass,” Drake said, pulling the camera from the creature.

Miguel felt like he had a new purpose, a new reason for living. He needed to find a way to make the device work. It became his mission, because he knew once he figured it out, he would finally see you again.

It was a year and a half after you’d passed on the dot that the device was ready, as ready as it would ever be. He’d made it compact and sleek. It looked no different than a watch, and he could hide under a sleeve if needed. The most recent rabbit they’d sent out lived, but only as long as it didn’t come back. Every specimen sent out seemed to perish on the journey home.

Miguel understood that the device was flawed, and far from perfect. Having a watch that could take him to any universe imaginable, but couldn’t return him to his own, didn’t matter to him though. He didn’t want a world without you in it, and he had no intention of coming back once he left.

Miguel returned home, grabbing some essentials, not knowing where the watch might bring him, and he put the items in a small knapsack for the journey. There was a single photo, one of the two of you that he wanted to take as well, so he could always remember the original you, for what it was worth.

When he fired up the watch, he let it choose a destination at random. He didn’t know where he would end up, all he knew was that he would find you, no matter what universe you were in, and that he would make sure he never lost you again.

Thank you for reading! You can support your favorite writers by the simple act of reblogging and liking! Thank you again!

Next Chapter

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara imagine #yandere miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara noncon #miguel o'hara noncon #miguel o'hara non-con #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fan fiction

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its-vannah · 2 years ago

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Girl, Put Your Records On | Eddie Roundtree x Reader

A/N: I haven't seen any fics with him, so I had to make one. I love his character so much.

Blurb: Being the daughter of a music producer has its perks, and one of those is meeting Daisy Jones and The Six's Eddie Roundtree.

Warnings: Just fluff and a hit of angst, implied intercourse (no detail)

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Being the daughter of a music producer had it's perks. For starters, you were able to listen to new albums and singles before anyone else. While the rest of the world waited for upcoming releases, you were already taking the record out of its sleeve and putting it on the phonograph.

Not to mention all the artists and bands you were able to meet. Your father was constantly popping open a bottle of champagne to celebrate his clients to celebrate their upcoming albums and tours.

Although you were too young to drink yourself, it was nice to feel included. Being there with your father, surrounded by new and interesting people with dozens of stories to share.

But being the daughter of a music producer has its downsides, too. On the smaller scale, sometimes your favorite songs wouldn't make the cut. When you were younger, it hit harder. But as you got older, you just accepted it and moved on.

That wasn't the only down that the role came with, however. You were a young, beautiful, kind girl with a heart of gold and a lot of love to give. Not many men in the industry had any problem taking advantage of that.

There was a thrill to it, for them. Sneaking around with their producer's daughter with the possibility of getting caught at any moment. You were sixteen when you had your first love. He told you all the right things, did all the right things. But the night before he left, he tried to convince you to "live in the moment" while leading you to his van.

It didn't take long for you to realize what was happening, so you freed yourself from his grasp, shoving him back and walking back inside your home.

He was too old for you, anyway. He was twenty, and you were still a kid. It wasn't right, but it was the seventies and he was gaining popularity. It didn't matter what he did, he had every girl in America wrapped around his finger. You, however, had made the choice not to be one of them.

A few years later, when you were nineteen, an up and coming group walked inside your father's studio. He was hesitant about letting them record, but he trusted Teddy and gave them a shot, alllowing you to sit inside the sound booth to hear them play.

You could see the nervousness written all over their faces as they got ready to play. They wanted to impress Teddy, and you didn't blame them. He wasn't easy to read.

Reclining in your seat beside Marcus, who gradually increased the volume on the lead vocalist and lowered the sound of the guitars, you smiled as you listened to them play.

By the end of their demo, you were on the edge of your seat waiting to find out whether or not they'd get an offer.

While Teddy went to discuss it with your father, you stepped out of the sound booth and made your way towards the group.

Smiling, you held out a hand to the only woman, who was closest to you when you walked in, introducing yourself, "Hey, I'm Y/N."

Karen gave you a gentle smile, shaking your hand, "Nice to meet you, I'm Karen."

The drummer, who was fiddling with his drum sticks, hollered over her, "That's Karen Karen."

Raising a brow, you couldn't help but release a small laugh, "Karen Karen?"

The blonde shot him a look, "Fuck off, Warren."

Warren grinned, nodding his head as a way of greeting you.

Beside him, the lead vocalist looked over at you, "Is there something you need, Samantha?"

"It's Y/N," You corrected, "And I just wanted to say I like your sound. It's different. I think you guys have a good chance of getting a deal."

One of the guitarists, the one with curly hair who had been ogling Karen for the past half hour, smiled up at you from his seat on the amp, "Thank you, Y/N. Our main focus is creating music that people l-"

"For the love of God, Graham, shut up," The vocalist grumbled, turning back towards you, "Look, it's nice to meet you, but we're a bit busy here."

Graham held his hands up in surrender, returning to fiddling with his guitar, mouthing "sorry" to you.

The fifth member of the group, who had been nervously tapping his foot flashed his bandmate an irritated look, "C'mon, Billy, she's just being nice. At least people actually like our music."

"Eddie, all I'm saying is that we need to spend less time socializing and more time figuring out what we do if we don't get this deal."

On that note, you cleared your throat, "You'll get the deal."

Simultaneously, Eddie and Billy spoke over one another, the former asking if you really thought so and the latter asking how in the hell you knew.

"I know Mr. L/N well, and so does Teddy. Look, the last few bands Teddy has invested in haven't been doing too great. But I really think you guys have a chance. I know you guys do."

Eddie gave you a lopsided smile, "They liked us in Pittsburgh, I don't see how this is any different."

Billy glared back at him, "If you'll excuse us, I think we have a few things to discuss."

Nodding, you turned to exit, giving the band one last smile. But before you could step out the door, Teddy came back in with your father in tow.

Teddy looked at the band, "We're giving you a shot, don't blow it."

The band, who Teddy had earlier referred to as The Six, erupted in smiles, hugging each other and patting one another on the back.

Your dad wrapped an arm around you, addressing the band, "I see you've met my daughter?"

Billy's eyes widened a bit. He thought you were just some random kid. But you had been in the sound booth, he should've known better.

Warren, who was very obviously high, nodded, "Yeah, she's hot."

Wincing, Karen glared at him, "She's been very kind, Mr. L/N."

Your dad eyed Warren, kissing you on the head before congratulating the band one last time, kissing you on the forehead, and walking back to his office.

Once he was out of sight, Eddie took one of Warren's drumsticks out of his hands and smacked him on the head with it, muttering, "Dumbass, that was her dad."

The drummer's mouth formed an "O", "You think he knows?"

"Jesus Christ, Warren," Karen said, shaking her head before turning to Billy, "And you, you need to get the stick out of your ass."

A look of pride settled on Eddie's face. You could tell the two of them didn't see eye to eye just from the small interactions you had with them.

Moving towards the exit, you waved them goodbye, "I'll see you guys around."

Warren and Graham waved happily, Karen and Billy nodded, and Eddie tilt his head to the side with a smile.

Once you were out of earshot, Karen looked back at Eddie, "Jealous, are you, Roundtree?"

"Piss off, Karen."

Warren looked between the two of them, connecting the dots, "Psst, Karen, I think he's jealous."

Rolling her eyes, she flashed him an irritated smile, "Yeah, I figured that out, thanks."

------------------------------------------------------------

Billy: As soon as we got the news and packed up, I ran to the nearest phone to tell Camila. She had always believed in us, and now everything was falling into place.

Karen: I think I went back and got drunk in my room afterwards. We may have gone out to eat, I don't remember. We had been living gig to gig, I was just happy to have an income.

Camila: It was the first time in a while that Billy really seemed happy with how the band was going. He had always believed in it, but I really think it helped him to see that everything was coming into place. That we wouldn't be living in a shack forever.

Warren: I don't even remember being in the studio. I was in my twenties, I was doing anything I could get my hands on. Drugs, alcohol, women. I was just along for the ride.

Karen: I could still kill Warren for telling the producer's daughter, Y/N, that she was hot in front of her dad.

Warren: We all thought it. Especially Eddie. I was just the one who said it.

Eddie: There was something about Y/N that was different. She wasn't just a newfound fan, she believed in us from the start. She and Camila were the first people to have our record in their hands. As for Warren's comment to her dad... She was beautiful, still is, I just think he could've handled it better. A lot better. By not saying anything.

Graham: It was nice to know that someone outside of the band and Teddy believed in us. Moving out to LA meant that we were starting over. In Pittsburgh, nearly the whole city had heard of us. At least, the people our age.

Eddie: That day was a turning point for the band.

Camila: There was no going back after that. They started recording and within a month, they were on their first tour.

------------------------------------------------------------

You came to every recording session The Six had, excitedly listening to their songs and giving input. You studied the way Marcus moved the volume and reverb, making a mental note of it. What he did had always fascinated you, and he was willing to teach you. It was one of the perks of being F/N L/N's daughter. People bent over bsckwards to make you happy.

Over the course of their time recording, you went out for drinks a few times with them.

You met Camila, who you adored, and quickly became friends with. You wouldn't have changed any of it for the world.

Well, except one thing.

From the moment you met Eddie Roundtree, your heart hadn't stopped fluttering, skipping a beat every time he walked into the room.

Warren constantly teased the two of you about it, suggesting different ways to release the tension between the two of you.

Karen kicked him under the table, giving him a look that sent fear down his spine.

It made the moment awkward for a minute, but the band could sense it was bound to happen.

Eddie was used to being pushed around by Billy, who was by far the most popular and well-known member of The Six. But for once, he was first place. With you.

The two of you often nursed a glass of champagne, talking to one another at the bar while Graham attempted to flirt with Karen, who wound up finding another guy to hook up with, and Warren fell into a crowd of women.

He took a sip, looking down at you, "What's it like, getting to hear new music before anyone else? Not just ours, but in general."

"It's incredible. Don't get me wrong, being in the studio so much has its ups and downs, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. There's nothing else I can imagine myself doing. That's why I want to work in the sound booth."

"You do?"

"Yeah, Marcus offered to teach me a while back. I just wanted to wait until you guys went on tour. I just want to focus on The Six, just taking it all in."

Eddie bit his bottom lip, "So... You and Marcus...?"

You shook your head, "Are friends. My mother is friends with his. We grew up together, he's just a few years older. He's protective, like how I imagine an older brother would be."

He nodded, "So, are you seeing anyone?"

"No," You let out a shaky breath, not meeting his eyes, "Are you?"

"No, are—I already asked you that," He said nervously, swirling his glass in his hand, "Do you... Have an interest in... You know, seeing anyone?"

"It depends on who it is," You said, heat rising to your cheeks, "And you? Anyone on your mind?"

He set down his glass, looking at you, "There is."

Meeting his eyes, you turned your back to the counter, leaning on it for support, "What's she like?"

"You have a mirror?"

You burst out laughing, "Is that your best line, Eddie? C'mon, you can do better than that."

He put his head in his hands, embarrassed.

Pressing a hand to his back, you used your other to pry his head away from his hands, "Don't worry, you can make it up to me."

Raising a brow, he tilted his head, "And how can I do that?"

"Pick me up on Friday at six."

"That's the day before tour starts."

"I know."

He nodded, "Wear something nice."

"Don't I always," You tease, stumbling into his chest.

He lifted the glass from your hands, "You know what I mean. I do, however, think you've had enough of this. C'mon, I'll drive you home"

------------------------------------------------------------

Warren: I was so happy to see Eddie leaving with Y/N. He was growing up, leaving the nest. It was about time he got laid.

Eddie: I drove her home. She had driven herself, but I was worried with her having three glasses. Truthfully, I just wanted to see her get home safe. And she did. I dropped her off at her door, walked her up, and waited until she got inside before I left. Once I got back in the car, it hit me—I had a date with Y/N.

Karen: I think he was more excited about the date than the record deal.

Eddie: It had just been a big few months. Moving to LA, getting a deal, meeting Y/N. Things were finally going my way.

------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie: Long distance relationships weren't easy by any means. I was the one who had to call, since we were constantly moving around. It strained us a bit, but she was able to go to a few of our concerts and I got to see her, take her out a few times.

Karen: Y/N visited us while we were in the northeastern part of the states. She stayed with us for a week and a half. And I never got any damn sleep while she was with Eddie. They could've been quieter, but I guess it was young love.

Eddie: She had her own hotel room during her time staying with us. Her dad set it up. We'd just stay in mine talking to one another.

Warren: Eddie swore nothing happened in his hotel room when he was alone with her, but I was on the other side of the wall. Look, I was pretty high, but it'd be hard to forget that. I may have been the one to call her hot, but he was the one that took it three, four steps further. Good for him, though.

Eddie: It was only when we got back from the tour that things started to go downhill with me and Y/N.

Camila: After I gave birth to Julia, Billy checked into Rehab. I was on my own for a while. But when the band came back, they were there to help me. Julia enjoyed time with Uncle Graham and Eddie, and Y/N whenever she was off work.

Graham: Eddie and I were there a few times a week just helping out and checking in on Camila and Julia. I loved that kid more than anything. We'd just sit out in the grass and I'd sing to her.

Eddie: Camila needed all the help she could get, especially with Billy not being there. Not that he would've done much anyway, to be honest. I tried to be there for her and Julia in any way I could. I didn't realize that it would tear Y/N and I apart.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Eddie, I barely ever get to see you. Can't you go one day without seeing Camila and Julia? You can stay with me. It's better than that shack."

"That shack is my home, whether it's shit or not, Y/N," He grumbled, "Camila needs all the help she can get with Julia. She's only a few months old."

"Her mother is with her, Eddie. She's got her mom, Graham, the whole band really. It's not that I don't want you to be with them, I just want to see you. I never get to see you."

Eddie sighed, "Y/N, they mean everything to me."

"They're your bandmates, I get it, I just—"

"Y/N..."

It was written all over his face. He wasn't just talking about The Six.

------------------------------------------------------------

Karen: We'd all known, except for maybe Billy and Camila, that Eddie was in love with Camila. We just thought that he had put those feelings aside when he met Y/N.

Warren: Out of all the girls Eddie had dated, which hadn't been much, she was my favorite. She was fun, she kept up with us, she was passionate about music and the band. When they broke up, I nearly snapped the guys neck. And I'm not a violent guy. She just deserved better than whatever the hell that was.

Eddie: Camila and Billy were married. I would never have come in the way of that. At the same time, it wasn't fair to Y/N. I loved her with my whole being, but I still had some unresolved feelings for Camila that started stiring when Billy was gone. It's wrong, and I know that, but it wasn't fair.

Graham: Eddie was an idiot for what happened. I remember when he came back from their first date. He swore up and down that they'd get married one day.

------------------------------------------------------------

When the band broke up, everyone went their separate ways. Karen continued touring, this time without Daisy and The Six. Warren got married and started working on boats, which became a passion for him. Billy stepped away from music and settled into life with Camila and his daughters and Graham continued working in the music industry, starting his own family. Daisy recovered from her addictions, and wound up adopting kids of her own.

These all took years to play out. But not for Eddie.

As soon as the band was over with, the first thing he did was buy a ticket to LA and knock on Y/N's door.

He explained everything and told her he loved her, he always had.

------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N Roundtree: Eddie proposed to me the night he showed up on my doorstep. He told me he couldn't imagine a life without me. I was touched.

Eddie: But she said no.

Y/N: I loved him, but I told him it would take time. We still had so much we didn't know about each other. It had been ages since I had seen him. I didn't even know that the Six had split up until he told me. He was back in LA that fast after the split.

Eddie: We did get to know each other, though. And I proposed almost a year later. We got married a few months after that. And the rest is history.

Y/N: It was a quiet ceremony. Eddie didn't want Billy there, and thought it may be a bit off putting for me to have Camila there. But I knew how much he cared about her and the girls, so we extended an invite.

Camila: Billy and Eddie never really saw eye to eye, and with Billy finally getting comfortable with family life, I didn't think it would be good to thrust him back into that.

Eddie: Y/N was a little upset they chose not to come, but understood. If you invite half a family, it doesn't exactly work.

Billy: I was surprised Eddie found the balls to get married.

Y/N: It wound up just being Eddie's immediate family, mine, Marcus, Warren, and Graham. Daisy showed up a few days earlier to congratulate us on our wedding, bringing a guitar with her as a gift. She just didn't think being back in that environment would be good for her. There would be too many questions.

Daisy: Just because the band was over doesn't mean the music couldn't continue. Eddie was a good guitarist and Y/N knew everything about managing sound and rhythms, so I figured it was an appropriate gift. I was really happy for them.

Eddie: Karen was touring at the time and wasn't able to make it, but she visited once the tour was over and stayed a few days.

Y/N: I preferred having a smaller wedding, with the people we knew the most.

Warren: They had great alcohol. I wasn't high during the reception, so I was actually able to enjoy it. I even met my wife there.

Graham: It made me long for a relationship, honestly. But it also made me realize I need to focus on myself first. I didn't want to just settle to settle.

Y/N: Our son was born a year and a half after we got married and music was automatically a big part of his life. He'd sit on Eddie's lap at not even a year old while Ed played the guitar. I still have pictures of them back then on the mantle.

Grant Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's oldest son: I remember when I decided I wanted to pursue music. Dad sat me down and explained what happens when you achieve fame and how to handle it. Mom told me that I needed to take it one step at a time and really enjoy my childhood.

Farrah Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's daughter: Grant never stopped playing that damn guitar mom gave him.

Grant: Sometimes I played just to drive Farrah and Eli crazy. I never stopped.

Eli Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's youngest son: I wanted to be just like Grant when I was younger. He was my cooler, older brother. He even taught me how to play the guitar and I could carry a tune, but my stage fright got in the way of anything beyond that.

Eddie: Grant went into the music field, Farrah pursued modeling and is now acting, and Eli is just now graduating from high school, planning to attend college this fall.

Y/N: I'll always be grateful for Daisy Jones and The Six, but I've got to be honest—I'm even happier it ended when it did.

Eddie: Everything happens for a reason, and for me, it couldn't have ended at a better time.

#eddie roundtree #edward roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones and the six fanfic #fanfic #fic #x reader #taylor jenkins reid #amazon prime

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gurugirl · 1 year ago

Text

A Balancing Act | Ch. 2*

Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.

Chapter Summary: Y/n learns that Harry kissed another woman and decides to move on. Harry crashes Y/n's date to get her to change her mind. But then he makes a shocking discovery.

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut (oral sex sort of), angst

Word Count: 9,739

Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)

A Balancing Act Masterlist

Returning to LA after his tour in Latin America, Harry was sitting with Pat in his lovely house. Matcha tea was served and she started off by asking him how he was feeling emotionally lately. She tended to want to start off their sessions by letting him talk about his emotions and how he was dealing with his busy life, reserving the topic of relationships and love until toward the end. It gave her a good gauge of his overall well-being.

“I miss home. It’s always the hardest when I feel like I’m missing out on so much. Feels like I’m ignoring what’s really important in life and focusing too much on myself. Feels selfish. I know that no one thinks that. My mum is always telling me to not worry but it’s just hard. Especially because I’m closing in on 30 and just feels like I’ve just been playing around for all my life.”

“But this is your work. And you do work hard. You’re just lucky that you’re talented enough that you can delve into this kind of creativity and make a living from it. You’re putting more responsibility on yourself than is necessary. You’re on your own path, Harry. And while from the outside everything looks fun and glamorous, even you know the truth because you live it. It’s hard. So don’t discount yourself by feeling like you’re not doing enough. Your mom is okay. She can take care of herself. Gemma is okay too. She’s doing well. Your friends and all the people that matter in your life support you. Comparing yourself to the 9-5 worker isn’t going to do you any good. You’re a successful artist. An entrepreneur. Just imagine if you weren’t. You’d be in Manchester or London and working some mundane job. Sure you’d be around your family but you wouldn’t be thriving like you are now. I think you’d be miserable and if you’re miserable your family will feel that.”

Harry nodded, “Probably. I guess I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”

“I can’t either. But it’s more about how you’re dealing with that guilt. I think as you’re getting older your priorities are shifting a little. And that’s okay. It’s good to welcome new awareness. Just be sure to not dwell on it because no one else is.”

Harry sniffed a laugh and smiled. Pat was right of course. He knew all of this. They’d been talking about his guilt a lot more recently and he recognized it was more because there were particular milestones that society set for people. And Harry had met many milestones but the basic ones like love, family, stability, children were all things he’d had yet to really achieve. Of course, he had a family but not his own, with a spouse and kids and a little house in town… but that wasn’t his to have yet. And the little house in town might wind up looking more like a bunch of houses in different parts of the world. He couldn’t deny he was lucky but he also couldn’t ignore that he felt like he’d been shirking his adult responsibilities.

“Okay. I can tell you need to say something. Want to move on from this subject?”

Harry grinned and repositioned himself to face more squarely toward Pat, “I met someone.”

“Oh? What does that mean?”

“I met her in Chicago. She was staying at the hotel I was in but she was there for an art show, she’s this really talented artist. But anyway… we just hit it off. We’ve been talking on the phone almost every night. I really like her.”

Pat nodded and placed her mug down, “That’s great. So, she stayed at the hotel you were in but how did you come to actually meet her?”

Harry described the scene at the bar and then how he invited her to his show the following evening, “I just… I don’t know. She’s not famous or anything but she acted like I was just a normal guy. And we really connected mentally and physically. She really seems to like all the things I like.”

“You mean, in bed? Or have you really gotten to know her on a deeper level?” She smirked and tilted her head. Harry was like this. He could connect with all kinds of people and it made his heart swell and lurch and then as fast as it filled up it all deflated just as quickly.

“Well, not just in bed. But yeah. We just clicked.”

“Look, I think that’s great. Just remember, you are okay as a single man too. Correct? You don’t need to be loved all the time. You are enough. You don’t have to fall in love and get married and have children to be a whole person. Society says you need that but you get to choose your path. But if you really like, this, uh… what’s her name?”

“Y/n. Even her name is pretty.”

“Y/n. Well, if you like her enough just take your time. Get to know her. Long distance is hard and phone calls are good but no substitute for face-to-face time. Do you think she’s as serious about this as you are?”

Harry shrugged and pursed his lips to the side, “I think so. I mean… we’ve talked about a lot and she’s told me so many things about herself. I guess I haven’t asked her to make it official, though.”

“Probably wise to wait to make it official. Jumping into a serious relationship could backfire as you well know. And there is the matter that you’re on the road so often. Did you see anyone else while you were away?”

Harry shook his head, “No. I actually really like Y/n. Didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up.”

Pat sighed, “You do realize you were supposedly spotted leaving a party with a woman people claimed you were kissing. Right? Just a couple of weeks ago. Which would have been after your Chicago shows.”

Harry groaned and nodded. He did know. His PR team told him about the supposed fan sighting and there was even a photo of him with a woman. Who he did kiss, but it wasn’t a kiss that meant anything. It was just a bit of fun and Harry had had a good amount of tequila. He honestly was just flirting and wanted to kiss the woman. But of course, when she wanted to take things further he declined because Y/n had been on his mind.

That was one thing about Harry. He was flirty and he’d kiss people he never intended on sleeping with. He kissed men and women and flirted all the time but usually, it was more friendly than sexual. Sometimes people got the wrong idea but that was just how Harry was. He loved getting close to people and touching. Loved hugs and kisses especially if he knew the person.

Even when he was with his last ex she’d gotten used to him kissing others and holding hands with someone else. But it wasn’t always very well received. Like the time she left one of the parties they were at early because she was tired and then he was filmed making out with a friend on a couch in front of people. He had a lot of explaining to do for that one. She forgave him but it hurt her. She cried. Harry felt bad that he’d done it. He loved how it felt to kiss someone and have them kiss him back, the zip of excitement and the tiniest bit of tension.

“Yes. I’m aware. I don’t know that she’s heard anything just yet. I think the photo only got published like yesterday or day before.”

“Well, it’s probably a good idea to talk to her about it before she sees the photo and reads the salacious headlines. That is if you’re interested in still seeing her.”

He nodded and looked down at his lap.

“Now, let’s talk about how you’re doing with all your new endeavors coming up. The timelines and the travel that will entail.”

. . .

Y/n was usually late with getting news or updates on celebrities. She spent a lot of her time painting during the day so unless she took a break and used her free time to peruse social media sites she might not realize things like the fact that the man she was beginning to develop feelings for had kissed another woman while he was away in another country.

Just as on this day. She was blissfully unaware of what he’d done as of yet. That is until Kat, her best friend, called in the middle of her glazing a painting she’d just completed.

She hadn’t told anyone about Harry except for Kat. Kat would keep her mouth shut about everything. Y/n knew she could trust her friend with her new secret. Not that Harry told her to not tell anyone but he did mention it would be better if very few people knew.

“Hello?” She spoke into the receiver as she capped the glaze and wiped her hands on her bibs.

“Hey babe. Did you see the link I sent you?”

“Uh… no. I’ve been working on a piece all morning.”

“Put me on speaker. Take a look.”

Y/n clicked the sound to the speaker and opened up her texts to see the link from Kat.

The moment the Daily Mail website came up with a blurry, dark photo of Harry standing very close to a woman she felt her heart drop.

Reading the caption of the article:

STYLES SPOTTED KISSING MYSTERY WOMAN IN COLOMBIA

“Are you seeing it?” Kat asked.

“Yeah. I am.”

The article mentioned him leaving with the woman after a party and Y/n put the phone back to her ear, not wanting to read more in that moment, “Thank you, Kat. I’m glad you showed me.”

“Of course. I mean… it’s Daily Mail so it might not be anything, but I just wanted you to have that info just in case. You know?”

Y/n nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, “Yeah. I know. I’m gonna go, though. I need to finish my canvas. But I’ll call you later, okay?”

Letting out a shaky breath she sat down so she could read the whole article, line by line. Obsess over the information and then google to find more websites and gossip pages, supposed first-hand accounts, unnamed sources talking about how he’s been seeing her for a while and he’s excited, other blurry photos of him at the party drinking…

She shook her head and stood up, locking her phone and putting it down on the table near the bottle of glaze. She looked over her canvas and figured she could take a break. It would be good for her to get out and take a walk. Clear her mind and figure out what she wanted to do.

Her walk resulted in her only dwelling on everything. He hadn’t called her in a couple of days but she knew he was traveling back to LA. She felt like he’d probably needed the rest from all the shows, the jetlag, time zone changes… but perhaps it was because he was seeing someone else now.

And that was certainly possible. They didn’t know one another all that well. She hadn’t even told him the whole story about her husband yet. About what had happened to him. And there had been no commitment made. They had sex in his hotel room. A few times. And it was really good. She felt they had a unique connection. Her feelings for him grew a little more quickly than was wise probably and the Facetime calls with all the revelations of things from their past and what they wanted in the future felt like she was talking to someone whom she could see herself with. He’d also given her his personal cellphone number which she knew was sort of a big deal.

But of course, that was ridiculous. This was Harry Styles and even if he did like her (which she was sure he liked her on some level) that didn’t mean they’d end up together. He could choose anyone. It certainly wouldn’t be her.

Later that night as she snacked on dill pickles and popcorn she fell into the hole of the search engine on her laptop.

The night Harry was supposedly seen with the woman was a night he hadn’t called her (she checked her call log). He didn’t call her every night, but it was still noted. Then she found another “source” saying Harry was happier than he’d ever been and that the Colombian woman was spotted in LA with him.

He hadn’t called her again that night either. Closing her laptop she figured it was over. She wouldn’t be calling him to find out what was going on. He didn’t owe her anything and it would look weird and stalkery to be asking him about the other woman. As if she had any claim on him.

Opening up her DMs on Instagram she decided to check back in on Dante. He’d messaged her all that time ago and she’d left him on read once Harry came into the picture. Maybe it was time to find someone closer to being in her own league.

. . .

Harry had a little time off and he caught up on much-needed sleep and getting back into a normal routine. He’d planned on calling Y/n that night. He’d been back in LA for a few days and felt like he was back in the right time zone finally. But he wondered why he hadn’t heard from her at all either. Normally she’d send off a little text during the day. A meme or something that would make him laugh. But it was silence from her for almost five whole days. Not that he’d reached out either but still…

He wondered what she was doing. It was a Saturday night and when he realized she was two hours ahead of him he figured he might as well give her a ring to see how she was. It was nearly 9pm her time already.

But the call went to voicemail so he left a message, a smile on his face, “Hey you… haven’t heard from you in a few days figured I’d give you a call to see what’s happening. I’ve been back in LA for a bit and I’m all caught up on rest. Give me a call back when you’ve time!”

She didn’t return his call that evening.

The following day Harry checked his messages and texts but he’d still gotten nothing from her and it was already midday (yes, he’d slept in quite late since he was up late writing a new song he couldn’t get out of his head). It was odd.

Shooting off a text message to her he suddenly had a feeling that perhaps she was avoiding him. Perhaps she’d seen the articles about him with someone else. He hoped that wouldn’t deter her from wanting to see him again. Hoped that she’d at least let him explain.

He needed to do something about it if that was the case. He couldn’t let her slip away without even having had the chance to see where it could go.

. . .

She heard the voicemail. In fact, she saw her phone light up with a notification that he was calling her in real time.

But she’d just messaged Dante and they had plans to meet up the following weekend. She’d been lucky that he hadn’t already come to town for the art exhibit. She thought she’d missed her chance when she messaged Dante back and apologized for not responding sooner. But he was polite as ever and they made plans to see one another.

So she was going to move on from Harry. There was unlikely anything good to come of it anyway. She had an amazing night with him and a handful of orgasms she could reminisce on but he was a world-famous pop star and he was single and surely he wanted to play the field for as long as he could. She understood it, but that didn’t make the situation feel any better. Therefore, the only way to get over him and to move on was to stop contact with him and get back out there.

Plus, now that she’d been with a man after her husband she felt like it was time to start dating again. It had been fun with Harry and she could have fun with others too. Maybe she’d sleep around a bit. See what that was like. Sow her wild oats. She’d gotten married so young and had little experience before him… Yeah, it was time to get out and date.

The following day she saw a text from Harry after leaving a meeting with someone who knew an art dealer.

Was just thinking of you. Missed hearing your voice. I’m back in LA now. Call me or text back.

She sat in her car and locked her phone, putting her head behind her on the headrest. What was he doing? She was kind of confused that he’d called her, left a voicemail, and then today had texted her. She really was trying to just move on. Figured he had too. But she was too curious not to call him. However, she’d keep him waiting until she was at home with a bottle of wine before she reached out. Maybe she’d hear him out. Maybe he wouldn’t bring up the other woman. She wouldn’t be bringing it up unless he did, but he had to know she’d heard about it. Right?

So, she took the long way to her house, stopping to pick up a bottle of wine and Chinese food before getting home.

She drew her curtains and took her clothes off, only wearing her panties and a tank top, and put her hair up in a messy bun on her head (like the real-deal messy buns, not those cute going-out-messy-on-purpose messy buns). Pouring herself a glass of wine and taking a big gulp she looked down at her cell phone as she sat on her couch and re-read his text.

For some reason she was nervous. She wasn’t sure how this conversation would play out but she wanted to find out what the result would be. This could possibly (most definitely) be the end for them. And she’d be okay with that if it were. Bummed, but fine. She still had her date with Dante to look forward to.

She dialed the number and put him on speaker as she leaned back into her couch and covered her face. She didn’t know if he’d pick up or not but she wanted to get this conversation out of the way.

“Hello!” Harry’s voice came over the speaker quickly. He sounded keyed up.

“Hi. It’s Y/n. You called and texted so I wanted to return your call.”

“Oh yeah… well, it’s been a few days. Was wondering how you were. So, yeah… How’ve you been?”

“I’m good. And you?”

Harry paused and noted the way she answered him in a clipped tone, cold. Not her normal friendly disposition.

“I’m well. Is… is everything all right?”

“Sure. Just doing my thing. Is everything all right with you?”

Harry sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, “Yeah. Um… did you read something about me? Is that why you’re upset?”

Y/n laughed and took a sip of her wine. Here we go, she thought to herself.

“Do I sound upset to you, Harry?”

“You actually do. Yes. Look, if you’re pissed about the articles from when I was in Colombia, I just want you to know that all of that is blown out of proportion. Right? So-“

“Oh. Interesting So you’re saying you didn’t make out with a Colombian woman at a party in Bogota?” God, she hated to sound so jealous but he did bring it up first. She cringed as she let her hurt feelings surface, but it was too late to keep her cool like she intended.

Harry sighed loudly, “I just mean that’s all blown out of propor-“

“Yes, you said that. I’m asking if what is being said is true or not.”

“It didn’t mean anything, Y/n. I am a bit of a flirt and I kissed a woman but that was it! I swear. I thought of you the whole time-“

“It’s fine, Harry. You don’t owe me anything. Besides, I’m going on a date next weekend anyway. We’re free to see other people, right? And-“

“A date? Next weekend?”

She laughed, “Yes. A date. Next weekend. It’s not like you and I will get to see one another much anyway. If at all. So there’s no reason to drag this out. We had fun but it’s clearly not something we need to bother ourselves with.”

“Bother… what? I thought we really connected, Y/n. I’m confused. I really like you.”

“But how can you say that when you made out with someone else? I really like you too Harry but you’re seeing other people because you know as well as I do that this, whatever it is between us, was never serious. Right?”

“No. No that’s not true. And I didn’t make out with her! It was like a quick party kiss sort of thing. Damnit! I swear, Y/n. I’m sorry. I had a little too much tequila and I kissed her but I really was thinking about you and she wanted me to come with her to her room but I told her I was seeing someone and that was it! God, I fucked this up didn’t I?”

Y/n sat for a moment. She had to admit she was surprised by all of this. Surprised that he’d contacted her after she didn’t respond the first time, that he seemed upset about possibly having offended her or hurting her, and that he was acting like he really did like her. But she determined that it was best if they parted ways. She realized it would simply be too hard for this to work. And based on the way his fans obsessed over the Colombian woman and were already talking shit about her (when they didn’t even know who it was) she knew she was right. She had to put an end to it before she got her heart broken.

“There was never anything to fuck up, Harry. But, look… let’s be honest here okay? I’m just a regular gal. I’m not your type, not the type that would be able to deal with your fame and all your adoring fans. I had a lot of fun with you and I think you are absolutely amazing. I really do like you but I just can’t see this working. You know?”

Harry shook his head and tried to stay calm. He had to think. He had to make this work. And he needed to not freak out about the fact that she was going on a date. He hated to think of her with anyone else. And yes, he did kiss a woman, but it wasn’t the same thing! Not to him anyway.

“I think you’re wrong. I think it can work. Let me prove it to you. I’ll come see you. Cancel your date next weekend and let me take you out instead.”

Y/n blinked her eyes, taken aback. She was truly shocked that he wanted to see her again and that he wanted to make it work but still…

“Harry…” she sighed, “you can’t expect me to cancel my date. That’s really not fair to me.”

He knew she was right, “Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m overstepping. I just thought we really connected. I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

Pulling her lips into her mouth she sat her glass of wine down. She was looking forward to seeing him again too, until she learned about the kiss. Even if they weren’t serious and even if the kiss meant nothing to him it meant something to her, “Please don’t make this hard. I really did like you, Harry. But it’s obviously not going to work. And that’s okay.”

“No. It’s not okay. I’m coming to see you. You don’t have to cancel your date. I’m not going to boss you around, but I’ll be flying to Chicago on Friday morning. I’m going to prove to you that we have something good here, Y/n. And if you still don’t see that after next weekend then I’ll back off.”

She couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t beside herself with the idea that he wanted to put in so much effort to see her. And she certainly couldn’t stop him from going to Chicago and she wouldn’t. But she did feel like it was unlikely he’d actually show up.

“I mean… Jesus, Harry.” She shook her head and grinned, her heart pounding, “You’re crazy. I don’t understand why you want to do this. We had a night together-“

“It was more than just a night. Y/n, come on… you know as well as I do that it was more than just that. All the things we talked about on the phone all those nights. Did that mean nothing? I shared so many personal things with you and I know so many things about you too. But I want to know everything. All of you. I might be crazy but I can’t just give up.”

“We’ll see. And I can’t stop you from flying out here but I’m not going to make you any promises either.”

Harry was determined. More than ever. He knew it was special with Y/n. He knew she knew it too. The night he had her in his hotel room was maybe the hottest sex he’d ever had. And of course, hot sex doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re soul mates but the way they connected and were vulnerable with one another was not like anything he’d ever had. Then all their subsequent conversations and things they’d revealed about themselves? No. He wasn’t done and she wasn’t either. He felt it deep down that she wanted him to prove to her that he was serious.

Kissing that woman had been a mistake. And now he was going to prove to her that he was serious. That they could work.

. . .

She didn’t know why she told him where she was going to be on her date. She didn’t need to tell him. He could wait to see her until after. She told him as much at first when he called her the moment he landed.

“Where will you be with your date?” He spoke saying the word date like a dirty word.

“Harry… why do you need that information?”

“Because I’m just curious. Maybe I’m looking for restaurant suggestions.”

“I’m sure,” she rolled her eyes to herself, “If I tell you, you better not show up and ruin everything. I kind of like this guy, Harry.”

Harry’s heart fell into his stomach and the smirk on his face faded at that. She liked the guy? She was supposed to only like him.

“I won’t ruin anything. I promise.” He couldn’t actually make that promise. He wouldn’t be held accountable for the methods he used to convince her she was his. That she wanted to be with him only.

. . .

The steak house was a typical small-town restaurant that looked cutesy and had a few things on the outside of the building to let you know it was a restaurant but still came off as more of something that looked like a house.

The inside wasn’t much different. The entry into the restaurant started at the bar. Round high-top tables and tall stools scattered along the middle with dining tables with chairs of normal height lined the wall to the right. The bar with various bottles of neatly arranged, half-empty bottles of liquor along the left. Old wood floors, crown molding, high ceilings, an old dusty scent mixed with the smell of stale spilled beer (that smell just doesn’t come out after years of clumsy customers insisting on spilling their ales every night for the past 35 years), food cooking, and meat searing. Beyond the bar was the main dining room with more tables placed around the space and large windows that looked out onto a sizeable terrace with more tables under a large awning.

Harry let his gaze move around the room and walking past the bar he peeked into the main dining room to see if he could spot the woman of his dreams.

“Harry Styles!” A young lady shrieked and as he turned back he saw two other women walking toward him. He knew the look. They were starstruck and hoping for a chance to speak to him and get a photo.

Reluctantly he obliged. Signed a napkin, took a few pictures, and shook their hands with a smile on his face. It tended to be better to just be nice and give them something quickly instead of declining. Sometimes declining or saying he couldn’t resulted in more issues than it was worth.

Not spotting Y/n anywhere either inside or outside he asked the young man stood at the front if there was a reservation under Y/n’s name. He expected that her date would have put it under his name but on the off chance-

“Yes sir. Uh, that reservation for 2 people isn’t for another fifteen minutes. Are you the other party on the reservation?”

Harry grinned and nodded, “Why yes. I am.”

He followed behind the kid to a spot outside on the terrace and ordered a bottle of red wine. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drink the whole thing but figured that once Y/n arrived with her date they could finish it off. He knew that what he was doing was taking it a little too far (maybe a lot too far) but he wanted to properly greet her and get a good look at this date. He’d get up and let them take their seats and then he’d pay the bill of course as an apology for the inconvenience.

Before he’d finished his glass of wine his sight landed on the entry to the terrace where Y/n, a tall man with dark hair (presumably her date), and the young host who seated Harry were walking toward him. There she was. She’d really dressed up too. The low plunge of her dress and the way it hit her hips were mouthwatering. He stood up quickly as he continued to watch her in awe. Her pretty face was set in an unamused frown, “What are you doing Harry?”

Shrugging his shoulders he looked to the guy next to her. He was Harry’s height. Taller even. Annoyingly good-looking in an older, sophisticated yet unbothered kind of way, “I’m Harry,” he jutted his hand out to shake.

The date looked at Y/n and then back to Harry with his hand taking Harry’s in a firm shake, “Yeah, I know who you are. Harry Styles… But why are you sitting at our table?” He asked with a laugh. So she hadn’t told her date about him. Pity.

“Oh, I was just having a sit, drinking a little wine. But I’ll be on my way. Just wanted to make sure my lovely friend here made it safely. Oh! And please! Enjoy the rest of the wine. And I’ve already told them that the tab is on me. So get whatever you like. Go wild.”

The look of anger on Y/n’s face should have deterred Harry from speaking further, but he couldn’t help himself, “And you look… wow. Incredible. You’re stunning, Y/n,” he looked over her frame and then back to her face, “I’ll call you later,” he winked as he turned and sauntered away just as casually as he had mentioned he was paying their bill. As if it were all just a normal occurrence.

Y/n watched the handsome pop star walk away before turning to Dante, “Sorry about that. He was just trying to be funny. Just a friend,” she reassured.

Though, Dante didn’t seem wary of him at all. He was clueless as to what had just happened, “You know Harry Styles?!”

Sitting down and pushing Harry’s nearly empty glass of cabernet to the edge of the table she nodded, “Yeah. Met him a couple of months ago when he was in Chicago for a concert, and I was there for an art show. Just luck.”

She left out the part where he had her in his posh hotel suite one evening and they spent the whole night fucking and talking and laughing. Connecting. And then again in the morning until she had to leave.

Y/n wasn’t sure how to feel about Harry’s little stunt. He seemed like such a genuinely sweet guy that what had just happened felt a little out of character. Though she got some glimpses of his pushy, dominant side in bed, she hadn’t seen any of that persona transfer outside of the bedroom. Not when he first introduced himself, and not in any of their conversations on the phone… But she guessed perhaps there was a part of him that would come out in this way. And she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy it all deep down.

But still. The nerve of him to sit at the table she and her date would be sharing and drink wine while he waited for them. To look at her the way he had, his eyes blatantly following her shape down to her hips and back up again with that grin… The compliment. And then to have their bill paid for? It was a power move. He was trying to assert dominance over Dante in some way. Even though Dante was annoyingly clueless somehow. She thought for sure he’d be livid about it but he wasn’t.

Dante was a little too nice she decided.

And it’s not like Y/n thought her date should be upset. She didn’t want two men fighting over her or anything. But the part of her that kind of liked what Harry had done, liked that he was trying to stake a claim or send a message- wanted to see what Dante had in him. Wanted maybe just a tiny bit to see him jealous or even insist on paying despite the fact that Harry said he would. Dante didn’t seem threatened at all. She shook her head of those thoughts. How silly for Y/n to even think that he should feel that way. Of course not!

And she couldn’t stop thinking about how good he looked in his suit and his thick dark hair with soft curls as she and her date neared the table he was casually sitting at. The handsome smug look on his face as he watched them. And she tried to refocus and listen as Dante was talking about his recent gallery show but she was now stuck thinking about the night she and the famous man shared together. That was probably part of what he intended as well, showing up like he did. To set the tone for the entire date. He knew what he was doing. And it had worked.

“Excuse me. I need to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

She took a deep breath as she walked into the restaurant and followed the hanging wooden signs that pointed toward the little hallway where the two bathrooms were. A single toilet room each for women and men.

Flicking the light on and clicking the lock she leaned into the door and closed her eyes. She had to give herself a pep talk.

“You’re here with a perfectly nice and handsome man. Same interests, a level head, funny, humble…” and Dante was all those things. But something was missing. Something was holding her back from truly enjoying his company. And she knew just what it was. It was because he wasn’t Harry. And even if Harry hadn’t made his surprise appearance to discombobulate her completely, interrupting her date, she would have still felt the same.

Just as she pushed herself off the door there was a knock, “Sorry! Be right out!”

Y/n washed her hands and dried them before opening the door. But in a shocking split-second, she was met with the handsome smile of the man she couldn’t stop thinking about as he walked into the bathroom, causing her to step herself backward. Harry closed the door and clicked the lock.

“Harry! What are you doing?!”

Harry smirked and leaned his back into the door, “How’s the date going?”

Crossing her arms over her chest she tried to feign annoyance but she was working hard to hide her own grin, “It’s fine. I like Dante. Why are you still here?”

“I figured I’d see if you were free after. I brought some things with me that I think you might enjoy.”

She paused. He brought some things? What did that mean?

“I can’t believe I told you where my date was,” she shook her head and sighed.

“I’m sure you did it because you hoped for this very outcome.”

“Oh come on, Harry. I actually didn’t think you’d even come here this weekend, to be honest.”

Harry stitched his brows together and pushed himself off the door, taking two long-legged strides toward her, and brought his hands up to her face, “Well I am here. And I want you, Y/n. I don’t care that you’re on a fucking date. That should be me sitting out there getting to take you out,” he jabbed a finger in the air toward the door before returning his palm to her cheek.

Her blood pumped quickly through her veins and her head felt fluttery and light as she watched his mouth and then looked at his eyes as he spoke. His hair was fluffy and soft and his hands on her face felt gentle but she knew what they could do. All the very opposite things of gentle that had awakened some kind of indulgent new requirement. She wanted to put up a good fight. Make him work harder. Make him beg a little even. He’d kissed another woman! For god’s sake, she should make him grovel. But he was there. With her. Looking at her like he did that last morning they were together when they were making plans to keep contact until they could see one another again.

She didn’t know how to respond. If she were responding candidly, she’d tell him that yeah, it should be him out there treating her to dinner and not Dante. That she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind and last night, even though she had this date lined up, it was Harry’s image that she orgasmed to when she masturbated. In fact, it had only been Harry she got off to since she’d had that night with him nearly two months ago.

Harry tilted his head and spoke softly, “Please, Y/n. Do you want me to get on my knees? Beg? Or,” a small devious smirk quirked up on his lips as he licked them and ducked in to speak into her ear, his body pressed into hers, “maybe you want this. You like the chase, don’t you? Is that what you want? Trying to play hardball with me, sweet girl?”

She was a goner the moment his lips brushed over the shell of her ear and he brought his hands down from her face to her hips and pulled her in close. A small warm peck to her lobe, “What is it that you want me to do? I’ll do it.”

Y/n drew her hands up his back to his broad shoulders and moaned as she stretched her neck for him, “You shouldn’t be here. I’m in the middle of a date.”

And despite her words, Harry seemed to figure out what it was she needed and he dragged his mouth down to her jaw and then attached his lips to her neck and lightly peppered kisses and warm licks down the sensitive skin until he lowered enough that he’d made it to her clavicle, drawing a needy little gasp from her lips.

He backed away to look down at her and she had her lips parted and eyes closed, which made him smile.

She was his.

“And this dress,” he smoothed his hands down from her hips to the bottom hem of the material that landed just above her knee. He pulled the fabric upward, his warm fingers sliding up and under the stretchy cloth until he met her inner thighs, squeezed together, “Why did you do this? Wearing this for him? Baby this dress should only be for me.”

Her breaths deepened and her body grew hot with his hands on her. This was such a bad idea but she didn’t have it in her to stop him. She wanted him. When she opened her eyes and looked at Harry she licked her lips before speaking, “I hoped you’d see it. But I didn’t really think you’d come.”

Harry’s palms splayed against her thighs and continued to push the material up as he smiled at her with a cocky grin, “Wanted me to see it. So you wanted me to be jealous. To see you wearing this slutty thing on a date with another man while I watched. Suppose I deserve that. But you know you’re leaving here with me. Yeah? That’s what you wanted. Gonna show you what you deserve for teasing like this.”

Y/n let out a small whimper when he pushed her legs apart and kept his eyes on hers. His light green eyes were slowly disappearing under his dark pupils. His lids were droopy, and his lips parted as he finally moved his face to hers and nudged at her nose with his before putting her out of her misery and kissing her in a hot, desperate embrace.

She tried to resist but she’d already been a goner and the way he kissed her melted her senses and stamped out her resolve.

She was his.

Harry’s hands continued their path upward and she knew what he was doing, as far gone and mushy as her brain was, she understood his intentions. So she parted her thighs more for his access and Harry panted against her lips, “You want me to touch? Need a little something before you go back out there on your date?”

She nodded after faltering for a second. Her date… She wasn’t sure she could face him after this. She only knew she wanted Harry.

He pushed his fingers over her silky panties and grinned as he continued kissing her, her back pressed into the wall, “Fuck, baby girl. You need Daddy don’t you?”

She groaned and popped her eyes open, nodding the tiniest bit as she watched him use his hand on her, rubbing over her cloth-covered clit. Harry hissed and looked at her with sultry eyes, “Soaked for me, baby. You don’t want to go back out there to him. You need to be taken care of. Can you wait til we get back to your place or do you need it now?”

Harry was serious. He was going to leave with Y/n. Dante would be fine. His check was covered after all.

Y/n let out a shaky breath. Here or at hers? Her place was half an hour away and she was already vibrating with desire. Harry’s words and soft touches and his presence somehow pulled from her a need that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. One that she was certain Dante couldn’t affect.

“This is crazy,” she breathed out.

Harry pushed his mouth to hers and moved his fingers down to the drenched crotch of her panties pushing them to the side and he keened at the feel of how slick she was under the pads of his fingers.

“Remember how good it was, Y/n? How you moaned and came over and over again? The way you took me when I fucked you.”

Harry was hard as rock in his trousers. This woman was doing things to him. He hadn’t been so determined about anyone in a very long time.

“Yes,” she whispered when he stroked up and down through her labia and then pressed into the hood of her clit.

“And how good we are together. We work, Y/n. This works. I know you know it.”

He plunged two fingers inside as he kissed her mouth. She opened her legs further for him and rocked her hips forward into his hand.

Y/n realized suddenly where they were and what they were doing when a knock sounded on the door, “Let’s go. I need to tell Dante that I’m leaving first.”

Harry was directed to stay outside at the front of the restaurant while Y/n went to the terrace and broke the news to Dante. She felt awful. She really did. Dante was nice. He was attractive. But he wasn’t her type in the end and she was slick between her thighs as she sat down and winced at the feel. The empty ache. She was flushed and her panties were chilled against her skin where it was wet, a result of just having been fingered in the bathroom. But her body was guiding her. She was aching and wanted Harry in her bedroom. Wanted Harry inside of her again.

It was probably a mistake. She’d probably regret this but she only knew one thing. And that was that Dante would never have a chance. Not when she was fantasizing about Harry on a date with him. That wasn’t fair to him, to string him along. So she justified that it was better this way.

. . .

Y/n had fully expected that Harry would have a driver or something. But to her surprise, he rented a car. A really nice car. A Mercedes Benz wagon.

She did kind of wish he had a driver, though, so they could sit in the back and that there was one of those partitions that separated them from view. But as it was, she was sitting in the passenger side as Harry drove her to her house.

It was kind of wild to her that Harry Styles was driving her to her house and that once there, in her small residential bungalow, they’d probably wind up having sex. Certainly, they’d wind up having sex.

“I’m sorry I did it this way,” Harry paused with a smirk on his face, “but not that sorry. Worked out in my favor.”

Y/n breathed out a laugh and shook her head, “Yeah, I guess you got your way. I imagine you’re used to that.”

“Heey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“It just means you’re probably not used to not getting exactly what you want.”

Harry nodded shallowly as he kept his eyes on the road in silence. He was just happy it had worked. He wasn’t sure it would. And yes, he was used to getting what he wanted but he didn’t expect to get everything he wanted. Not all the time anyway.

“My place is pretty small. Two bedrooms. One bathroom. A small backyard. So don’t judge, okay?” She was mostly teasing, feeling quite nervous about what was soon to happen. The state of her home was actually the last thing on her mind.

“Don’t be nervous, love. We’re going to have a great time together.”

Y/n gulped the saliva in her throat and looked ahead toward the road. She knew they’d have a great time together if their last time together was any indicator. In fact, she imagined it might be even better. He was visiting for three days and she had nothing to do other than finish the canvas she’d been working on for the past week. So they’d have a lot of time. To explore and to play. To talk.

She recalled a conversation they had one night over the phone when Harry brought up her pretty, plump bottom, his words still making her blush having never enjoyed anyone calling her plump in any way. But somehow, when Harry said it, it felt sexy. He made her feel sexy. Her curves and her extra bits, her tummy and ass and arms and thighs… they only spent the one night together but he made her feel as if all of her was beautiful.

“Such a pretty, plump bottom like yours… and you’ve never had anal sex before, or anything? My finger was the first to poke inside?” He spoke his words with a smile.

She was already lying down in bed and gently rubbing herself to the sound of his voice and he’d been heavily flirting and suggesting what they’d do together the next time they saw one another.

“No. Have never done anything back there,” she laughed breathily.

“We can change that. I can start by licking your pussy and your ass until you’re so wet and creamy that I can just slip my finger inside your little hole and get you ready for more.”

She moaned lightly at the idea.

He continued, “And once you’re shaking and begging to come I’ll slowly fill you up with my cock so you can finally experience what it’s like.”

Y/n laughed and paused her fingers, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Harry groaned and panted (he was also touching himself), “Oh I would be in heaven to have you any way you wanted. But to be able to be your first experience with that would be amazing. But the question is, Y/n, would you like that?”

She squirmed in the soft black leather seats just thinking about it. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to go that route or not but she figured if he got her loosened up and drippy she probably would very much want that. She felt like he’d make it good. She knew he’d make it good.

Harry noticed the way she shifted and wondered if she was still on edge. He imagined her panties were a mess after what happened in the bathroom. He would have loved to have fucked her then and there but she asked to leave. And he could wait a little longer, though his cock was aching and pushing against the front of his trousers painfully.

Y/n was trying not to eye his crotch. He clearly had an erection. Still. And she knew he was nice and thick and long. Just remembering the way he looked had her thighs clenching together. Yes, she was still very wet in her panties, and knowing that soon he’d be using that thing on her gave her an idea.

She reached her hand over and put her palm on his upper thigh over his pants and Harry quickly glanced down before putting his eyes back on the road. He swallowed thickly. He liked where this was going.

“Gonna help me out a little?”

Y/n smirked and looked up at him as she unbuckled her seatbelt, “Do you want me to?”

Harry scoffed and shot his eyes at her quickly, “Is that a serious question?”

Biting her lip she positioned herself to lean over the leather console and began to undo the leather belt he had on. Harry adjusted his seating and pressed the seat back button to lean back a little to give her more room as she unbuttoned his pants. He parted his lips and let out a labored breath when he felt her palm over him.

He was so warm under her hand, even with the material of his pants covering him. She continued working on opening his pants up when the seatbelt warning dinged.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes but she continued, not worried at all about the sound. She wanted to pull him out and play with him a little bit.

The road to her house from the restaurant was mostly along a small highway with no stoplights and very little traffic. Which she liked so she could have him out in her hand and no one would pull up next to them and catch a glimpse of what they were doing. Not to mention it was Harry Styles in the car, that would surely get some attention.

When she finally dragged his underwear down enough that she could grasp around him he moaned softly. She loved how he felt in her hand, the way he looked. She pulled from the base of his shaft upward, rolling his foreskin over his frenulum and back down. He was hard and his tip was pink and pretty like his lips.

The ding of the seatbelt warning chimed again as she leaned further over and moved her lips to right above his erect cock. Harry moved his arm away to give her space, before putting his hand on the back of her head. Her hair fell over the exposed skin at the base of his cock before he felt her lick gently over his slit and stroked him slowly as Harry drove down the road toward her home.

It was difficult to put him into her mouth with the console in between them but she had been able to put his tip in past her lips and lick all around him, lapping at his precome as she continued moving her hand in gentle strokes at his shaft.

Harry was panting shallowly and his stomach muscles were contracting. It felt so good to have her mouth and her hand on him. He wished he could look down to see her sucking him off but he had to keep an eye on the road, and with her seatbelt undone (thanks to the reminder every two minutes from the warning chime) he didn’t want to chance anything.

Y/n moaned around his slit and Harry choked out his words, “Fuck, baby. We’re almost there. Gonna give it to you so good when we get to your place.”

And she knew he would too. She wasn’t very experienced. She’d slept with two men before she got married but of all the men who’d fucked her, Harry was far and away the best at it.

Harry pulled into her small driveway, directly behind her Toyota Camry. Tucking himself back into his pants as she adjusted her dress before getting out of his car and plucking her keys from her purse.

“Did he pick you up here at your house?” He pointed toward her car in the driveway. He deduced that if her vehicle was there the date must have come to her home to pick her up.

Y/n paused and it took her a moment to understand what he meant but the realization dawned on her, “Yes. He did.”

Harry nodded, “So he knows where you live? Did you invite him in?”

Sighing she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Was he really doing this now? “Yes. He came in, stood in the doorway, and looked around while I grabbed my purse. That was it.”

Harry was standing over her with a small frown, “Were you planning on sleeping with him? After the dinner?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. What is this, Harry?” She pulled her arms upward before dropping them at her sides in frustration, the keys to her house jangling as she did so.

Putting his hands on her upper arms he slowly rubbed upward, “This is just me wondering what you were up to is all. It’s a good thing I got there in time to stop anything from happening.”

A scoff fell from her lips as she looked up at him, stunned, “No. This is you being jealous.”

Harry shook his head with a cocky grin and brought his left hand up to her neck and pulled her into his chest, “I’d be jealous if you left with him. But he’s nowhere to be seen now is he?”

She felt the small squeeze on her neck as he pushed her bottom gently to the front of his car, his hips connected to hers so she could feel him, “S’just you and me here, though. Isn’t it? You’re wet for me. Not for him,” his soft, warm mouth was suddenly pasted over her jaw and she gasped. It was hard for her head to fight its way out of the labyrinth of mush that he seemed to be so good at leading her into. But he knew that. He loved the way she responded to him.

Harry chuckled, his laugh vibrating off her neck as he tenderly kissed the edge of her parted lips before backing away and grasping her hand to pull her to her front door, “Let’s get inside then. Can’t fuck you out here on the hood of the car for all to see can I?”

Everything was rushed and desperate in her brain. She was shaky putting her key into her door to unlock with Harry right behind her, his hands at her hips, his lips on her neck.

The moment the door was closed and locked Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. It was hot and frantic. They were both on edge and very much in need of release. Together. Even though he acted as if he had it totally together and he was in charge, he was feeling desperate too with the way his tip was leaky and his cock throbbed in his pants.

“It’s this way,” she panted breathlessly as she pulled his hand to bring him toward her bedroom.

But Harry paused when he saw a large, framed photo hung on the wall. It was of Y/n with a man. Kissing a man. She was wearing a beautiful wedding dress and the man was in a tuxedo with the backdrop of a lovely garden and flowers all around.

“Is… this you?”

Y/n was halted when she whipped her head to look at what he’d seen. She realized instantly what he meant.

“Um. Yes.”

“Are you… married?”

Y/n sighed and let go of Harry’s hand.

Talk about a mood killer.

Chapter 3

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