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harley-sunday · 1 year ago

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Maxiel Heist AU

Originally posted this on the sideblog but figured it might as well go up here. Wrote this in one go because I needed some sort of Maxiel robbery/heist AU in my life. There's a more elaborate fic in here somewhere but for now I hope you enjoy this drabble/set up (1.7k) even though this is not what I normally write at all. Also, I know this is not factually accurate but...

The thing is- Max Verstappen likes to be prepared. Likes to leave nothing to chance, likes to plan ahead, and likes to know exactly what to expect at any given time.

Which is why, from Monday to Friday, his days are pretty much carbon copies of each other. He wakes up five minutes before his seven AM alarm, gets up, showers, and puts on his clothes - a dark navy suit with a white dress shirt and a pair of brown leather shoes that he only wears for a year before he replaces them. The same goes for his suit by the way. Every year, during the mandatory break his boss makes him take between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, he goes to the same tailor he’s been going to ever since he started his job two years ago and gets a new suit and ten new dress shirts. Last year his sister went along and pressured him into buying a navy tie she said would bring out the color of his eyes but that still lays of course untouched in the back of his closet somewhere.

Max still styles his hair the same way he's done ever since he was old enough to do it himself and then puts on the same cologne he’s used since he turned eighteen, when his sister gifted him a bottle of Tom Ford Azure Lime for his birthday, which, unlike the tie, he does like. He kisses his, barely awake, boyfriend of two years goodbye before he heads to the kitchen and makes himself the same breakfast he’s been having ever since he moved out of his mother’s home. Two pieces of toast with a slice of cheese on each and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Simple, but it does the trick.

Once he's had breakfast, he tends to his two cats, Jimmy and Sassy, who get some cuddles before Max changes their water, tops up their bowls with some cat food, and cleans out their litter boxes. He always checks his weather app right as he grabs his car keys, to see if he needs to bring his coat, before he heads out the door and takes the elevator down to the parking area of his apartment building and fires up his Porsche 911, a birthday gift from his boyfriend when he turned twenty-five last year. He drives out onto Fremont Street at exactly seven fifty because leaving early only means he’ll spend more time at work than he intends to and leaving late means he’ll be stuck behind a school bus most of the way.

He’s been working as a financial advisor for the past year, moved up through the ranks pretty quickly once the bank’s manager saw his potential and made him his protegé. Max is still not sure the regional manager, a certain Dr. Helmut Marko he's only met once, agrees with this decision, but then again Max doesn't really care what the weird old Austrian guy has to say. He won't be working here much longer anyway.

The branch of Wells Fargo he works at is on the smaller side, ten or so employees in total, located on the outskirts of a mall in one of the city’s more wealthier suburbs, but Max likes it. Likes how, even though he meets different clients throughout the week, there still is a certain familiar rhythm to his day. He knows that when he gets in at eight-fifteen, Damian, the security guard, will greet him from behind the morning newspaper with a curt nod and a, “Morning, Mr Verstappen.” Knows that Bea, one of the bank tellers, will be standing at the coffee machine in the break room and will either complain about the weather or the traffic she was faced with that morning, while Portia, the other bank teller, will have her hands folded around a mug of steaming hot tea and nod in agreement. He doesn't care much for Bea or Portia, the two middle aged women far too nosy and invested in his private life for his liking, and so Max sticks to smalltalk mostly.

The thing is- Max Verstappen likes to be prepared. Likes to leave nothing to chance and likes to plan ahead.

Which is why his first client of the day always comes in at eight forty-five, because Max knows by now a meeting usually takes no longer than fifty minutes, and knows not to schedule another meeting right after because there’s a coffee break at ten. And because he of course doesn't drink coffee he takes a Red Bull instead. The first of four he'll have throughout the day- Five if it's the weekend.

His next meeting is always at ten-thirty and then another one at twelve, allowing for a lunch break at one. Max gets made fun of by Bea and Portia, and sometimes Damian too, because his lunch is just as varied as his breakfasts - a tomato soup and a carpaccio sandwich from the bodega around the corner he has been buying ever since he started working here. After a month of ordering the same lunch, Andy, the shop owner, stopped asking Max for his order and simply made sure he had his food ready to go at one o’clock.

By now he also knows that the hours between one and three are relatively calm and that Bea and Portia have come to take turns going outside for a short walk after their lunch break, leaving only one teller out front for about half an hour at a time. Every day at exactly one-fifty, Damian disappears for ten minutes or so, for his after-lunch toilet break. On Thursdays there’s a Brinks truck that comes in at two to pick up the money deposited to the bank the week prior and Max knows that even though technically Damian should be present for the exchange, the Brinks’ guys know their way around the building and usually finish up before Damian even comes back.

Max schedules his third client of the day at three, leaving him some time to catch up on emails and administrative tasks he thinks are the most dreadful part of his job. His last client of the day comes in at four and by five he’s ready to head home and settle into his evening routine of a workout, a shower, dinner, and some Fifa or Call of Duty on his Playstation before he goes to bed at ten. His days blend together seamlessly, his almost every waking minute accounted for in a carefully constructed regimen that he’s perfected over the years.

The thing is- Max Verstappen likes to be prepared. Likes to leave nothing to chance.

Which is why it is weird that at one-fifty two on a random Thursday afternoon in November he remains seemingly calm when three masked men walk into the building and try to rob the bank, disturbing an otherwise quiet afternoon. Portia panics and starts screaming before they shut her up by gagging her and tying her to her chair in a haphazard way. Before Christian or Max have time to respond, two of the men make their way to Christian’s office while the other one barricades the door to the staff bathroom, locking in Damian. Christian gets held at gunpoint and is made to open the safe that holds the money Brinks is supposed to pick up in eight minutes. Christian tries to tell the men he doesn’t have the code, that only Brinks can open the safe, and for a moment it looks like the robbers believe him but then one of them catches Max’s eye and throws him a wink before he cocks his gun, puts it against Christian’s temple, finger on the trigger, and says, “Didn’t your momma teach you not to lie, boss?”

It’s then Max remembers he’s supposed to have pushed the panic button located on the side of his desk the minute these guys walked in and he does so at one fifty-six, right as Christian gives in and opens the safe. He watches in silence as at least four or five bags filled with bank notes get taken out of the safe and get put into a large black duffel bag that one of the guys hoists onto his shoulder. Just as quickly as they entered the men start to retreat but not before one of them points a finger gun at Max and pretends to shoot him. Max doesn’t say anything and waits until the men have disappeared before he rushes to Christian who tells him to check on Portia first.

Max knows it will take another two or three minutes before the police arrive and later he’ll explain to them that he blacked out for a second, too shocked by what was going on to think logically and apologizing for not pushing the button sooner. The detective he gives his statement to will nod and tell him, “Don’t worry, son. It’s hard to predict how we will act in stressful situations.” Max has to bite his tongue to not tell the detective that, “I of course knew how I was going to react.”

He spends longer than he wants talking to the police, repeating his statement over and over again, his dinner a box of Chinese takeout one of the officers picked up for him and the detective.

The thing is- Max Verstappen likes to be prepared.

Which is why, when he finally makes it home later that night he can’t help but smile when he finds his boyfriend standing in the kitchen, whipping up what looks to be like a late-night snack. Max sneaks his arms around Daniel's waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder, voice raspy from talking all evening, "Hey."

"Hey," Daniel replies, putting his hand over Max's where it rests on Daniel's stomach and intertwining their fingers. "You had a good day at work?"

Max scoffs but chuckles, "I did."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Max echoes, letting go of Daniel so he can spin his boyfriend around and finally kiss him. With his lips still ghosting over Daniel's he returns the question, "Did you?"

Daniel pulls back a little, eyes darting to the living room where Max knows there's a now-empty black duffel bag hidden away somewhere, and points a one-handed finger gun at Max, clicking his tongue to mimic the shot, "I did."

#F1 drabble #Maxiel AU #MV33 #DR3 #Harley Sunday x Maxiel

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am-i-obsessed---maybe · 3 years ago

Note

42, 50, 52 on prompt for Damian Wayne?

Thank you even if you don't answer my ask! ☺️

Is That Was This Is? Attraction?

Absolutely!

Sidenote, I keep trying to write these as drabbles and they always turn into proper thousand word long fics

I don't remember the whole list so when I checked what the actual prompts were I smiled cause that is so cute!

42) Is that my shirt?

50) My friends get annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes

52) No one's ever made me feel like this

Reader and Damian are teenagers of an unspecified age. I don't like age ups for shipping but this is small and sweet so just keep in mind that in cannon this boy is like 12.

You'd known damian since the both of you were kids, two young heroes displaced form the worlds they've been raised in. For Damian it was his mother and grandfather in the League of Assassins and for you it was the Amazons on Paradise island. Two kids guided by their mentors to find themselves. Since Diana took you from Themyscira and to man's world multiple years ago you've fought crime along many young heroes as Olympian, the only true son of Themyscira while Damian became Robin, the boy wonder and heir to Batman. You had much in common from upbringing and life experience to your formal speech patterns. Jon often laughed at how in sync the two of you seemed to be. You and Damian were close to say the least.

The other night you had been awake till the early sunrise helping Damian investigate and rescue a kidnapped city council member and when you went to fly back to your apartment in D.C Damian stopped you.

"It's late, we've been up all night, you can stay the night at the manor" He said and you smiled.

"That's sweet Robin but I am quite capable of staying awake enough to fly back home" You tried to explain but instead Robin grabbed your wrist.

"It's not about capable, you and I both need rest." He said and you sighed, he was not often like this so you agreed. It's not like you were in a hurry to get back anyway.

You spent the night at the manor, in a guest room. Damian even gave you an old pair of Tim's PJs to sleep in so when you walked out of your room the next morning wearing one of his shirts and an old pair of sweatpants that were probably Tim's Damian was very confused.

"Is that my shirt?" He asked as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and looked down.

"Is it? It was laid out for me on the desk, I simply assumed Alfred left it for me" You explained as you joined Damian in the kitchen.

You nodded a hello to his brother Dick as you passed him and went to make yourself something to drink.

"Thank you for inviting me to stay the night Damian, it was definitely better than flying back to D.C" You said and sipped your hot chocolate. That caught Dick's eye.

"You stayed the night... At Damian's request?" He asked and you simply nodded.

"We were out until Sunrise Grayson, it would have been irresponsible to allow him to fly back on his own after such a long patrol" Damian supplied and quickly changed the subject to the events of your recent rescue mission.

You simply leaned back against the countertop and watched Damian animatedly retell the night's events.

"-And then Y/N broke down the steel door to the bunker, deflecting the goon's gunfire as I untied Mr. Wilpon-" You smiled as you noticed Damin's body relax as he talked to his brother. He didn't often allow himself to relax and you adored seeing him whenever he did.

"Y/N?" Damian asked and you snapped out of your daze realizing he asked you a question.

"What?" You asked and Dick had to hold back a snicker, did he notice you staring at Damian?

"Are you coming? I am going to train." Damian asked and you nodded, smiling.

"Of course" You said, putting down your cup and following after Damian.

The two of you changed back into your superhero uniforms and you joined him in the batcave.

"Are you alright? It isn't like you to space out" Damian mentioned as he sharpened his batarangs.

That isn't completely true, though it was unlike you to be caught gazing at at Damian. You weren't quite sure what it was, you'd never felt this way with anyone else. Your stomach fluttered when Damian was around and your cheeks heated up.

"I'm tired is all, last night's mission must have taken more out of me than I thought" You explained.

"Target practice?" You asked and it was as if your stomach filled with butterflies when you saw the smile that only you and Jon got to see. Only his friends.

"You're on" Damian said and you adjusted your arm guards, smirking.

You and Damian often played a game to test his aim and your reflexes.

Damian prepared his batarang, took aim and threw it.

You smirked and easily deflected it with your arm guards.

"My reflexes are better than that Damian, do not aim for my arms." You instructed him and he threw another batarang, this one aimed for your chest.

"Better." You said as you deflected it. Damian smiled and threw another one. He loved spending time with you, you understood him, you didn't question his past or his abilities and he adored being around you. You made him feel at ease. In fact if it weren't for his brother's pesky meddling and remarks he would invite you to sleep over every time you were in Gotham.

After almost an hour of target practice and sparring you sat with Damian on the roof of Wayne manor as you watched Gotham from afar.

"Thank you for inviting me to stay Damian, I enjoy spending time with you like this" You said and Damian could feel the butterflies in his stomach flutter.

"Of course, I also enjoy our time together" He said and you smiled as you watched him lay back against the roof.

"I always enjoy our time together" Damian admitted and you noticed his cheeks redden.

"As do I Damian. It's strange, we've always been close but when it is only the two of us together my heart- it flutters" You admitted and Damian's eyes were trained on you as you spoke.

"I admit I'm not quite sure what this is or why but no one has ever made me feel like this" you said and you looked away from Damian and to the view of Gotham. This was one of the only times the city has ever looked peaceful.

"I am not quite sure what this feeling is but I like it" You said and Damian's own heart fluttered at your words. He felt the same way and the thought that you felt the same made him giddy- not that he would ever admit it.

"I feel the same" He admitted and you turned your head to him in surprise.

"You do?" You asked and he smiled, just a tiny bit at your reaction.

"Yes, it's- it's why Grayson made the comment he made this morning. You are the only person I have ever invited to stay the night" He said and you simply watched as he spoke.

"I- I like you and I was not sure if you felt the same. I have never felt this way for someone of my own gender so this is all still new to me as well" He explained and you simply blinked in confusion.

Damian liked you? He felt the same and he liked you? Was that the strange fluttering in your stomach? attraction?

You looked at Damian in confusion before bursting out in laughter. How could you miss this? You've read all the great poets words of love and yet you could not recognize it in yourself!

Damian looked at you in confusion and some hurt, did he misunderstand? did you not feel the same? Was this the end of your friendship? That's not what he wanted to achieve with his confession.

When you managed to control yourself and quiet your laughter you wiped a stray tear from your eye.

"I apologise, I- I have read all of the great poets songs of love and yet I could not recognise it in myself and with my best friend" You said and smiled.

"So you do feel the same? You like me back?" Damian asked and he cursed himself, he sounded so childish. Of course he was, this was childlike admiration. His first love.

"Yes Damian, I do reciprocate your affection, I was simply too blind to realize it and for that I apologize" You said and scooted closer to the now very flustered boy.

"And it is alright if this is the first time you've had these emotions for another man, we will learn together" You said reassuringly and carefully placed your hand on top of Damian's. He never was one to easily show physical affection but he appreciated the small gesture.

"If you wish to keep this private in the beginning-" You tried to tell Damian that was fine, after all as long as the two of you were together you were happy but he quickly cut you off.

"No!" He said, much louder than he intended.

"No, I- well unless you wish to keep it private. In that case I understand" He said and you smiled.

"no, if I'm being honest I feel much more comfortable in a same sex romance than I think I would be in aa heterosexual one" You admitted and leaned your head on Damian's shoulder.

"How come?" Damian asked and you smiled thinking of seeing your fellow amazons with their girlfriend's and wives back on Themyscira.

"Well, there really was only one option on an island full of woman" You joked and Damian chuckled lightly, nodding.

after a small silence you asked.

"Are you embarrassed? being together with a man for the first time. I know in man's world this is much less common" You asked and you were fully expecting for Damian to agree in some way.

"No." He said and you brought your head off his shoulder to look at him in surprise.

"This is all new to me but if I'm being honest, my friends get annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes. I don't think it will surprise many" He explained and you smiled.

"You never were one to fear what others would say" You joked and laid your head back down on his shoulder.

"I love you Damian Wayne" You whispered and you caught the tiniest bit of a relieved smile on his lips.

"I love you too" He said.

#damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne #dc x reader #reader insert #batfam #male reader #dc x male reader #batfam x male reader #prompt fanfic #robin x reader #dc

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outerbankies · 3 years ago

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new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

#rafe cameron #rafe x y/n #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fanfiction #she writes

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years ago

Text

Warmth

Bela Dimitrescu x They/Them Reader

A/N: Yes, I’ve contracted the RE8 fever, and a bit late at that, what about it? Anyway, hope ya’ll like it. I don’t think there is anything that I should have to warn any of you about but let me know if I’m wrong. Word Count: 2,176

Being the fire stoker for the Dimitrescu daughters was simultaneously the best and worst job in the castle. It was the best job in that the daughters saw them as too valuable to kill or maim since they did their job so well. It made the daughters actually quite appreciative of them. Worst because if (Y/n) were to, god forbid, let a fire die in one of the girl’s rooms, their own light would be just as quickly snuffed out for such an error. That appreciation could turn to devastating hate on a dime if they were to slip up.

Winter was the most critical season. (Y/n) was often running room to room stoking the fires of each daughter’s most favorite areas of the castle to keep the most desirable temperatures. Often times they would fall asleep in the halls outside of the most at risk rooms and jerk awake at the slightest drop in temperature. Lady Dimitrescu had caught them dozing off once and scared them terribly when they awoke. Luckily, the Lady simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way, but not before reminding (Y/n) how easily a fire could fizzle out without the proper care and consideration. A warning.

The castle was huge, (Y/n) wished to argue, it wasn’t their fault that the daughters and their favorite rooms were so spread out. They’d like to see the Lady tend to every fire all throughout the harsh Romanian winter and see how long she could go without suffering from exhaustion. Well, on second thought, could the Lady even get tired? (Y/n) shook their head and sighed, rubbing at their bloodshot eyes. Lady Bela’s room was next in the rotation so they made their way to her wing while checking the state of their matchbook. They’d need to visit the kitchens to get a new one soon.

As they neared Lady Bela’s chambers they noted a slight chill which made their blood run cold.

“No, it can’t be...!” They gasped, fully sprinting down the hall now. They somehow remembered decorum despite the frenzy they had worked themself into and knocked upon the door, announcing their presence before stepping in. Their heart dropped to their feet.

The fire had completely died and Lady Bela was shivering in her bed, only her golden eyes could be seen staring at (Y/n) from beneath the covers as they rushed to the fire place with trembling hands.

“I’m so sorry Lady Bela!” They apologized fervently. How could this have happened? They had the timing down to a science! They had gotten too comfortable as Lady Dimitrescu had suggested and now the eldest daughter was sure to kill them for their carelessness. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how this could have happened! I swear I’ll fix this, you’ll warm up in no time!”

Soon enough, the fire was blazing, the snap of the wood causing (Y/n) to flinch back. They heard the rustling of sheets and saw a black silk nightgown in their left periphery before they scrunched their eyes tightly shut. This was it, they had outgrown their usefulness. They held their breath and waited to be dragged away by Bela’s sickle but the biting pain never came. Instead, they were enveloped in chilled arms and wrapped in a luxurious duvet. An Ice cold nose dug into their neck and made them flinch.

“You will warm me. Move before I allow it and this will be the last fire you tend to.” Bela shivered and chattered against (Y/n)’s neck.

“Y—yes Lady Bela. Of course.” (Y/n) replied, back stiffening as Bela moved curl up in their lap. It was a bit awkward considering she was taller than most, but once settled she seemed pleased enough.

They sat like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n). Enough time to make their legs cramp and back ache. If Bela didn’t let them go soon, they were sure they’d have more than one displeased Dimitrescu sister to worry about. Fortunately, Lady Bela seemed to have grown tired of them and rose from their lap with a sigh before languidly moving back to her bed.

“Move along little human, if you let Cassandra’s fire go out I can’t say she will be as merciful as I.” Bela informed, looking back at (Y/n) over her shoulder with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, of course! Thank you Lady Bela, I swear I’ll never let it happen again!” (Y/n) bowed deeply before running out of the bedroom, shutting the door tight and quick not only to keep the heat in, but to hinder Bela a moment if she decided to change her mind on being merciful. They ran down the hall like a bullet leaves a gun to tend to Cassandra’s fire next, praying it hadn’t met the same early death as Bela’s.

***

It happened again.

It happened again and (Y/n) was absolutely beside themself. They had never been so sloppy in their life and even if Bela wasn’t going to kill them they almost wanted to sickle their own shoulder for their ineptitude.

“Tell me, what did you promise me yesterday little human?” Bela taunted from the bed while (Y/n) frantically stoked the fire to a roaring blaze.

“I— I don’t know what to say Lady Bela, I am disgusted with myself. Truly, I’ve never—“

“Hush now.” Bela glared from the pile of soft covers. If she wasn’t a vampiric bug woman with murderous tendencies, the scene would have been adorable. But (Y/n) knew better than to entertain the thought for long. Then Bela stretched her hand out from beneath her mountain of blankets.

“Come, warm me little human.”

“Whatever you wish, Lady Bela!” (Y/n) nodded, giving the fire one last look as if to say, ‘behave!’ and then they quickly stood beside Bela’s bed. There was no time to be shy when Bela lifted the covers, (Y/n) dove right in and let Bela maneuver them however she wished.

Unlike the day before, this warming position was much more comfortable and so much more dangerous. (Y/n) could feel that they were starting to drift off in the luxurious bed. If they fell asleep here, surely they would not wake again. Well, that might actually be kind. Who wants to be awake for their death anyway?

“I can feel your heart slowing, little human. Perhaps you’d best be on your way before you succumb to sleep and leave another fire to die.” Bela whispered a bit snidely.

“Right!” (Y/n) shot up and fell out of the bed, scrambling to their feet and anxiously smoothing the covers back down, “Thank you again for your mercy, Lady Bela. I’ll do better!”

“See to it that you do.” Bela replied airily as (Y/n) left the room. They failed to notice the small smile curling Bela’s lips as she watched them go.

***

Two weeks. Nine out of the fourteen days Bela’s fire had died before (Y/n) could stoke it. Sometimes, it even happened twice in one day and (Y/n) was dangerously close to a mental break. Bela, miraculously, seemed to have the patience of a saint and had yet to kill (Y/n) for their failures, simply making the fire stoker warm her with their body before sending them away. Despite the circumstances that preceded the impromptu cuddling sessions, (Y/n) couldn’t help but enjoy every moment they held Bela close or visa versa. It was actually really nice. They would have been lying if they said they hadn’t felt an attraction for the eldest daughter growing within them as they became used to life in the castle.

That didn’t mean (Y/n) didn’t feel horrible though. Each failure, every shiver drawn from Bela’s body, hacked at them like an axe and it was only a matter of time before they became the timber for the next fire.

So they set out for today to go differently, they quickly stoked Daniela’s fire and the one in the library, as well as the parlor, before bounding over to Bela’s room to arrive nearly half an hour earlier than usual. They knocked, announcing their presence, before promptly opening the door. They were already halfway across the room when they glanced up, pausing mid step when they saw Lady Bela out of bed standing over the fireplace. She stared back with wide golden eyes, seemingly frozen in time as well if not for the trickle of water pouring from the small bucket in her hands.

The sizzle of the water meeting the hot wood drew (Y/n)’s eyes to the fireplace and they watched slack jawed as smoke billowed and the small fire drowned into nothingness.

“...what?” (Y/n) whispered, their eyes shifting back to Bela who had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed before fruitlessly hiding the bucket behind her back. The unusually meek display from the eldest Dimitrescu daughter seemed to spark (Y/n) to speak further out of turn, though words did not seem to be coming easily to them as they just continued to say, ‘what’, only getting louder and sounding more confused and utterly flabbergasted with each utterance. Their arms gestured between Bela and the sodden, burnt wood several times before Bela finally groaned and tossed the empty bucket into the nearest corner of her room with a clatter and a dull thud against the carpet.

“That’s enough!” Bela said sternly, causing (Y/n)’s jaw to snap back shut. She stalked over to them and lifted them by their shirt, quickly pushing them back against a wall in such a way that left their feet slightly above the floor as their hands scrambled to hold onto Bela’s.

“You will speak about this to no one!” She hissed, a buzzing sound emitting from her chest.

“My Lady,” (Y/n) wheezed, “I won’t say anything I swear!”

Bela scrutinized them closely before lowering them back down with a shallow nod.

“Good. Now,” she cleared her throat sheepishly before turning back towards her bed, “light the fire.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to be asked twice, scrambling to their knees in front of the fireplace. As they replaced the soggy wood with fresh timber, their mind raced. Why would Lady Bela douse her fire only to demand it be relit? Why would she do such a thing when she was so susceptible to the cold?

Once the fire was blazing once more, they tentatively turned to Bela, watching as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If (Y/n) couldn’t know the motives behind such a play, they were sure to lose their mind. So, they tested their luck and addressed Bela who gave them a warning look.

“Lady Bela, forgive me, but why ever would you douse your fire? Lady Dimitrescu had informed me of how important it is that you and your sisters stay warm when she assigned me this position. And... well, please forgive me if I’m wrong, you seemed to have made a bit of a habit out of it...”

Bela clenched her fists and growled, making (Y/n) jump to their feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They said, making a dash to the door only to bump into a wall of Bela’s flies. This had to be it. They should have just kept their mouth shut!

“Stop panicking, little human.” Bela sighed and finished reforming in front of (Y/n). The fire stoker nodded, but their heart still beated ferociously in their chest. Being told to stop panicking by a Dimitrescu was like a great white shark telling a bleeding seal in open water to do the same.

“I’m only going to say this once so listen closely,” Bela averted her eyes for a moment and bit her lip before focusing back in on (Y/n), “you’re beautiful... handsome? Pleasant to look at and very warm and soft, sweet. I can’t very well snuggle up to a fire without being burned so I... stop looking at me like that.”

(Y/n) had a cute little smile on their face that seemed to be growing by the second. Their eyes were bright and alert as they soaked in every word and Bela couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at her own lips.

“If it’s cuddling you wish for my Lady, you need only ask. I do enjoy the time we’ve been spending together as of late. Well, minus the heart attacks every time I see the fire’s dead.” (Y/n) informed.

“Just please,” they added, “no more fire sabotaging. I hate to see you shiver.”

“Easy enough,” Bela hummed before pulling (Y/n) back to her bed with visible excitement in her eyes, “hurry now, you got here early today so we have extra time!”

Before, Bela had been rather stiff with her demands. It was like (Y/n) was warming a block of ice wary of melting, but now she all but flung herself at (Y/n) with no inhibitions now that her secret was out. She hummed pleasantly and (Y/n) wiggled in her hold while icy fingers trailed beneath their shirt to settle on heated skin. It was shaping up to be a rather eventful winter.

#re8 oneshots #resident evil oneshots #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village oneshots

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lieutenant-simp · 4 years ago

Text

Felt You When I Needed It Most

F!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warning: Attempted bank robbery? I guess like also guns and knifes, mentions of blood. FLUFF AT END I PROMISE.

Summary: Whenever someone touches your soulmate you also feel it on your own skin.

Not my Gif

A/N: I still would like some requests please :) I am an absolute sucker for tropes and clichés. Soulmate AUs absolute *chefs kiss* Also this was not proofread.

Words: 1,547

Since you were young, you’ve never had the best track record with injuries and pain. It was awful at first, but as the years went on you had to get used to it. The pleasant experiences all your friends had with their soulmate touch never seemed to match your own. They got the feeling of warm hugs, and you got punches to the face.

To counteract your soulmate, you made it a mission to provide comfort. Clearly, they weren’t getting any. You’d be extra affectionate to your friends, always giving hugs goodbye, and platonic cuddles. It was what you were known for. You liked to think that your soulmate would enjoy it.

Unbeknownst to you, it did. Wanda, your soulmate, would relish the feelings of love. Love she didn’t get. Her guilt would eat away at her every time she would get hurt. When she was tortured by HYDRA, she would cry, not for her, but for you. She, of course, felt horrible when she went on missions for the Avengers, the pain being much less frequent but just as awful.

Your hugs, providing the warmth she never allowed herself to have with anyone. At night she would sometimes feel the warmth of someone next to her, and it was one of the few nights she slept well. Knowing you were safe and loved. She loved you, the constant feeling of warmness and love showing you were there with her. She has always been yours, maybe that's why she never let anyone get close, never go on dates when she had left HYDRA. She certainly had people wishing they were her soulmate, but her heart belonged to you.

Your job is much less exciting than Wanda's. Being a bank teller had its perks, you met lots of people every day. Silently praying that one of them was your soulmate. As well as the pay, being the bank that worked for Stark was pretty good. Free coffee at the coffee shop inside while you were working was phenomenal. You never met any of the avengers but you would see them occasionally come in.

When Wanda had first come to work for the Avengers, she was new, to well, everything. She hadn’t had a bank when she first joined, and Tony being Tony recommended his own that he used. It was a nice bank, she never had to go in, as Tony’s numerous assistants took care of all the work for her.

However as a gift, Tony had given everyone checks and Wanda went to deposit hers. She would probably donate hers to a local orphanage as she always did with her bonuses. Tony had offered to get someone to do it for her, but Wanda wanted to get out of the compound, especially when she heard about the amazing coffee that was there. She had lunch later with Nat and Bruce. As it was fairly early in the day when she decided to leave, she wanted to get all her errands done beforehand.

Walking into what she thought was one of the safest banks was quite alarming when she saw what was going on.

Being at work at 7 in the morning was the one thing you hated about this job. It was always slow in the mornings as well, waiting for people to help was bringing your attention to your fatigue. Although wanting people to come in was even less appealing. But when seven or so men came in, you were eager to help them all.

You smiled and said hello before they quickly showed you their guns. You didn’t even get the chance to press the panic button as one pointed a gun at you. You looked towards where security normally was a curse to yourself as they had been busy, they sat against a wall with guns pointing at them.

You heard the door open, and you look briefly at who came in, but the man pointing the gun at you thought you were trying to run. He grabbed your arm roughly and grabbed his knife. He pulled you towards you and held the knife against your neck stopping you from moving altogether.

He dragged it against your face slowly, scratching into your skin, enough for you to bleed. You cry out in pain.

Wanda steps in and sees people attempting to rob from the bank. They quickly noticed what was happening. She grabs her face feeling pain, your pain, which was extremely unlike her soulmate to get hurt. She looks at you and sees the blood trickling out of your cheek. She watches you get slapped and the knife digging into your skin, and she feels it too. She wanted to find you, but not like this. Not when she desperately wanted you safe, to see only the joy in the world which she never got to see much of.

“I suggest you stop now before you get into more trouble than you need to,” She shouts. The men point their guns at her quickly. But her eyes stay on you, she sees the fear in your eyes, the tears threatening to pool, she heard your cry. Wanda focuses her eyes back on the men, her eyes start turning red as she focuses on her powers. Willing the men to drop their weapons and kneel and inhibiting them to move. She didn’t try to control the man that had you, she was too scared that the sudden jerkiness from their fighting would hurt you.

“If you let her go now, you’d make your life so much easier” He merely laughs in her face, before pulling you closer to him the gun pressing roughly to your temple. You look at Wanda, the way her head moves slightly, the same side yours does, as if she could feel it.

Wanda already had alerted the rest of the team as soon as she saw what was happening, so she knows you’ll be okay soon, but she had just found you and she can’t help but worry.

You do get put into a worse situation, the man, that was holding you, decided to try and use you as a bargaining chip. Deciding if he hurt you enough Wanda would let him leave. He started constricting your oxygen take, slowly at first, but now it was getting hard to breathe and see. Wanda wasn’t doing much better than you but the man holding you didn’t have to know that. Slowly you slump against the man, he was startled that you were now unconscious and let you go suddenly, Wanda took this as an opportunity to restrain him as well.

The other avengers had just gotten there when you had fallen. Wanda rushed over to you and put her hand on your chest. She relaxed slightly when she saw you were still breathing.

You woke up to bright lights as you opened your eyes slightly. It didn’t look like the normal hospitals that were around you. Your breathing picks up slightly as you remember what happened. You remember men coming in and hurting you but you don’t remember much after.

Wanda looking up and seeing you were awake she makes her way over to you.

“Hey” You turn to look at her, you recognize her from somewhere but you can’t remember where. But holy shit is she beautiful. “Who are you?”

Wanda laughs, “We met at the bank and well, I think I’m your soulmate” She walks closer to you and grabs your hand, and you feel it. You stare dumbfounded at your interlocking hands. “I’m - I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want- This might be too soon I just I don’t know, I was so scared I had just found you and I-“

“No- no, this is exactly what I wanted. I’ve been dreaming of when I’d meet you since I knew what soulmates were. You’re so breathtaking. I-I just I don’t know, uh I don’t know what to do” You look up at her and laugh, “I’m Y/N by the way”

“Wanda, I don’t know really, um I don’t really know how to do this relationship stuff” You squeeze her hand slightly

“Me either, I guess we can figure it out together” You lean up slightly, inviting her to lean closer as well. When she gets close enough you kiss her. Slowly, taking your time, relishing the feeling. Everyone always said that kissing your soulmate was indescribable. The best feeling, something that you crave, they say you love your soulmate the moment your lips first meet.

“I, We should, we should get to know each other first before we say I love you” You stare at her dumbfounded. “You’re at the Avengers compound by the way” You look around and again notice where you are. You look back at Wanda, as if finally recognizing her.

“You’re the, you're the, you’re an Avenger” She laughs at you, “I see you on TV all the time, OH my that’s why you’re hurt all the time” She smiles sheepishly

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that” You squeeze her hand that’s still interlocked with your own.

“I’ll forgive you if you give me another kiss” You grin at her before she laughs and leans forward again.

#wanda maximov #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #marvel #wanda maximov x reader #wanda maximov x y/n #wand maximov x you #maximoff #wanda angst #wanda maximoff angst #wanda fluff #wanda maximoff fluf

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 4 years ago

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Hi! What is your very specific Twilight AU?

okay, so. New Moon.

party disaster, dumping her and dipping, all happens normally.

but THEN. Bella finds out she’s pregnant.

(and I know you’re thinking- pre-marital sex?!?! Edward would NEVER! but listen. I am the author now. I’ve been around Christians my whole life. shut up!)

so anyway after a million pregnancy tests and a lot of googling about vampire baby legends, Bella’s like...well this is probably gonna be a situation,

Nessie doesn’t have an insane growth rate here because I hate that, so she has a normal amount of time to prepare, and she’s very...aware that the birth is gonna be Rough at best. So she goes to Jacob

who is NOT a wolf yet but Is aware of the pack and the treaty, and they are closer friends already, and she’s like ‘hey. paranormal emergency. you’re the only person in this town who enables me. help.’

and Jacob’s like I’m Fucking Fifteen and goes and gets Leah, since she’s technically an adult and a girl

(ms. meyer How did you make one of leah’s only 3 character traits ‘upset she’s infertile’ and then not have her support bella’s choices in breaking dawn please make it make sense)

so they start brainstorming solutions and the best they can work with is. Bella’s gotta ride out the pregnancy in hiding. they have no way of knowing whether she can survive the pregnancy and the only clue they have about whether the baby will be a monster or not is from google searches, but they also can’t exactly take her to an obgyn when her uterus feels like it’s calcified and her ribs are getting broken and she seems to be craving blood

So, Leah’s got her own little place. Bella moves in there, telling Charlie she wants to move back in with Renee (she knows her parents would never willingly call each other so as long as she keeps up communicating with both of them they should be none the wiser of her growing a little dracula in Leah Clearwater’s basement).

Leah has already defected from the wolf pack at this point (because...the Cullen’s left and she didn’t really like any of the guys anyway lmao) so they don’t run the risk of them hearing her thoughts while she’s in wolf form. She goes out and hunts animals, brings them back and her and Jake drain the blood from them so Bella can drink it. All three of them find this extremely disgusting obviously but Jake’s loyal and a little bit lovestruck, Leah’s a supportive friend and queen, and Bella’s just trying to keep her and her baby alive, and none of them feel like trying to rob a blood bank

Bella is 100% certain the baby will just be a baby who happens to like blood, like she was in bd, but the tentative plan is that if a crazy soulless monster comes out of her Leah will...handle that...

Which neither are thrilled about, so Bella’s just trying to focus on staying positive. And between that, trying to survive and stay hidden, Bella doesn’t really have time to...Check Out the way she did in new moon. Like, she’s absolutely still depressed, and she’s still getting an occasional Edward hallucination because carrying a vampire baby counts as reckless in many books, but she’s just more...resigned and pissed than anything. She’ll have days like the ‘possibilities’ scene, but more often than not she’s just telling the Edward hallucination to go fuck himself when he’s begging her to find the real him so they can have Carlisle deal with the pregnancy

at some point, Seth gets roped into the whole mess (he’s prone to just breaking into his sister’s house) but since he’s like, 13 and The Best Baby Boy he’s immediately supportive. He didn’t even fucking know about the wolves and the vampires until he walked in on a six months pregnant Bella drinking blood while his sister and Jacob are hacking away at a dead deer, but he’s like...you know when you were 13 and sneaking around about Anything made you feel like the coolest person alive? point is he’s helpful

AND he can get away with spending a lot of time at Leah’s house without anyone finding it weird, unlike Jacob, so he starts spending most of his free time there keeping Bella company and brightening her day up

HE is the one who enables her when she comes up with the name Renesmee lmao

(just because she hates Edward doesn’t mean Esme ever did anything wrong!)

“bella I’ll throw you out of this house if you don’t come up with a real name” “leah she’s white you can’t just disrespect her culture like this omg”

anyway these four become the DORKIEST and WEIRDEST little family it’s cute

so then. labor.

it’s less...graphic than in bd because Bella hasn’t been actively dying the whole pregnancy and she doesn’t snap her spine in half, but it’s still. bad.

she essentially delivers a rock that Nessie then begins chewing her way out of. she’s actively bleeding out. Jacob’s having a panic attack. Leah made Seth watch so he would never have unprotected sex and the scare tactic is working. Leah’s covered in Bella’s blood which is not great considering she’s Holding A Rock That A Vampire Is Emerging From

Leah’s been taking classes and researching deliveries so she needs to stitch Bella up and see what else is wrong but Seth is rocking back and forth on the floor crying and Jacob’s screaming and pacing too fast to grab so she’s like. Bella babe I know you’re dying but you need to hold this thing for me ksjdfllksf

so while she’s handling That, Bella’s got this weird little rock in her arms and is watching the baby slowly fight it’s way out like this is a very fucked up egg or something and she’s just. overwhelmed. maybe it’s the blood loss but she’s looking at the messy, scrunchy little face and she’s already in love and envisioning their lives together.

and then, you know, the baby bites her,

she has just enough time to think ‘how did we not think to prepare for that’ before she can feel the venom coursing through her. it’s just as bad as she remembers from James’ bite but somehow...easier to tolerate. she blacks out pretty quickly

the other 3 notice and are like : 👁👄👁

Jacob...literally explodes into a wolf On Spot

Seth darts out the fucking door he’s seen enough for one day

Leah, sole holder of the braincell, realizes Nessie just bit and isn’t drinking from Bella, and deduces this is like...a survival instinct or something. the baby instinctively changes it’s mother first thing. weirdly...touching?

So she gets the baby and checks that everything is physically okay with Bella (apart from you know. changing species) and is like...guess this is an issue for 3 days from now Leah

more immediate pressing issues: screaming new born baby and oh, yeah, the giant red wolf in the basement,

“Jacob I know this is disorienting but if you break anything in my house I’ll fucking kill you”

she really just leaves the poor boy to go get the baby cleaned up and warm up some of the frozen blood they’ve got in her fridge (RUINING HER TUPPERWARE, BELLA)

she’s not worried about the wolf pack mind meld yet because she knows Sam took the guys on a mission way farther up the coast for a few days and they’ll be too far away to hear Jake. hopefully, by the time they get back, Bella will be awake and they’ll have made an escape plan by then

and as she’s bottle feeding blood to the baby she’s thrilled that it seems to be like...relatively normal and not s horrific monster or anything. mission: unwillingly murder my best friend’s baby has been successfully canceled

“Oh Goddamn it....Renesmee DOES fit you...”

Seth, from where he’s cowering behind the couch: “told you”

so, Jake eventually calms down, they spend the next few days cooing over Nessie and brainstorming how to handle Bella when she wakes up a vampire, and also nicknaming Nessie ‘Nessie’ because they know Bella will find that intolerable and they feel she deserves karmic punishment for stressing them out so much lmao

so, three days are up. Seth’s upstairs putting on a way-too-elaborate puppet show for the baby with not a care in the world. Leah and Jake are in the basement because they know Bella probably won’t want their wolf blood and their ready to phase in case she gets a little aggressive

but she just wakes up and is like. hey! how’s it going? where’s my baby?

sjdhfksdj they were expecting feral but Bella still has her super self-control. she didn’t even realize she’d changed into a vampire until they told her lmao

Bella’s a little too freaked out to try hunting yet so they give her some of the stored blood they’ve been feeding Ness and she’s like. good to go. Leah’s about to scream like have the elders been exaggerating this whole time or is Bella truly a freak??? lol

So, they spend a couple days just...relaxing, Bella and Renesmee bonding, they’re trying to come up with fun places Bella can move to with the baby so no one she knows finds out, and every now and then Leah and Jake go out and she tries to help him get the wolf thing under control

and then,,,,the pack get back from their mission early

and immediately are able to read Jacob’s mind

so they head over to Start Shit because there’s two bloodsuckers on their land but,

the pack not attacking because Jake imprinted on Renesmee? tired. the pack not attacking because Jake’s Alpha Genes have taken over and declared Nessie and Bella as part of his Pack and attacking would literally start a war? inspired

so they hash the whole thing out....ultimately Sam decides Bella is more of a victim than a threat, and since neither her or Nessie seem to be going on a bloodlust rampage any time soon...he decides to grant them immunity from the whole ‘kill the vampires’ rule. He’ll let her and her daughter stay in La Push as long as they agree to stick to animals and only hunt out of town. PLUS from what little Bella knows about the Volturi, she’s worried about them finding out about Nessie, so they’ll offer protection if that does happen, in exchange for her being able to help them with intel on any other vampire threats in the area (you know like. if a nomad is fucking stuff up in a nearby city, they’ll send her to talk to them first before deciding if they need to intervene. Sam has become acutely aware he has a lot of teens and kids in his pack, so he’s trying to keep them out of fights as much as possible)

anyway that’s the story of Nessie gaining like 17 chaotic as hell ride or die uncles,

let’s fast forward a bit

it’s like 15 years later. Bella’s not living with Leah anymore, but she’s got a cute apartment in a nearby town, and owns and runs a bookstore on the first floor of it. she got her ged and did college online and teaches night classes at a community college. She’s still in contact with her parents, who Adore the life out of Nessie. She still helps the pack out and they’re all close. Nessie is a handful but in a fun and lovable way. They go on little weekend trips whenever they have time. Bella’s happy.

but then a. Situation. arises.

basically, the Volturi have been made aware of some unknown vampire chasing others out of the pacific northwest and conspiring with shapeshifters. and you know when Aro gets curious he tends to spin things dramatically. who’s to say this vampire isn’t conspiring against all vampires? against them? why has no one’s special talents worked on her? he simply must find out.

Bella and the Pack get word and decide their best course of action for now is to go on the run. they’re not gonna be able to take on a whole army but if they can bide some time and lay low they might be able to figure something out

except Bella is like....I have a teenage hybrid that the Volturi don’t know about yet...it would be EXTREMELY irresponsible to take her with me

but she can’t send Nessie to Charlie or Renee because they don’t know about her...dietary restrictions. She can’t stay with Billy or anyone else in La Push because the Volturi might trace the pack’s scent there and discover her. She’s panicking, they have to leave in a few days max and she can’t find a safe place for her daughter

and then she’s like.....fuck.

she had run into Jasper a couple of years ago- they have the same forgery guy and were heading to his building around the same time as a coincidence. She promised to forgive him for the party incident if he promised not to tell Edward he saw her and that she’s a vampire now. He agreed, but then told her Edward’s been living on his own for a while now and insisted on giving her his number...she never could bring herself to call it or delete it...but now...if she wants to be 100% Nessie is safe and protected...

fuck

So, the past 15 years have been fairly rough for Edward

he’s still convinced leaving in order to save Bella was the best course of action, but like...the vampires canonically mate for life. that’s his soulmate. he’s absolutely miserable without her. he’s thought about cracking and going to find her again but he always talks himself out of it, convinced she’d just tell him she hates him or something

so as stated in his patented Edward Cullen Self Loathing Guide, first thing to do is isolate yourself from all the lovebirds you usually live with. Sure, he keeps in contact, but...not well. he’s currently living alone and posing as a university student. He’s not even really sure what he’s supposed to be majoring in. He’s mostly been in a haze since he left Forks.

and one day....he gets a call from an unknown number. he ignores it, thinking it’s a spam call. but then it calls like 8 more times in a row and he figures answering might be a bit smarter than simply throwing it at the wall

And Edward...swears he came back to life and immediately had a heart attack the second he hears Bella’s voice

He feels breathless and disoriented the whole conversation, trying to figure out if his memory did her voice any justice, trying to rush out 15 years worth of apologies, trying to comprehend she’s actually speaking to him.

But Bella’s very blunt on the phone. She doesn’t want to let herself get emotional. She’s on a time limit, and she has to focus on getting her daughter to safety

And Edward swears he somehow misheard her the first ten or so times she told him. He had a daughter? that wasn’t possible

“she has the audacity to be your Evil Twin so I’m pretty sure it’s possible”

so she gives him a rundown. she needs to go into hiding, no I don’t need your help with that, gives him details about Nessie, what she’s like, what she likes to do, her diet, her favorite color, how annoyed she is by this whole situation, “Edward I know you don’t love me anymore, but I remember how protective you were, and that’s what I need Nessie to have right now. She needs you right now” and Edward wants so badly to refute Bella’s claim of lost love, to tell her he has absolutely no idea how to be a parent, but...her tone is aching so much he can barely speak. He can’t let Bella down again, and he can’t let this little girl he foolishly created and left down anymore than he already has, either.

So he agrees, she tells him to be at the airport in a few days, and hangs up.

Edward loses about half a day staring at a wall in shock, before he jumps into preparations.

Bella told him while their daughter possessed some speed and strength, hunting was fairly dangerous for her. She was more delicate than his kind, and had a heartbeat. Reheated blood bags had been their best option, and she also needed human food as well. He also had to get a room ready for her- he wandered around stores for hours, reading young girls minds to see if there was any furniture or decorations that were universally liked- which was of course, fruitless, but he did manage to find a handful of things he was sure Bella would have liked at that age, and prayed for the best. He somehow got himself covered in purple paint that was a nightmare to get off. Bella had sent him some forged documents claiming Nessie was his younger sister he’d won custody of, and he got her enrolled in a nearby school. He lived every day leading up to her arrival staving off a panic attack.

it wasn’t until he was on the way to the airport that he realized he forgot to inform his family about this life update. they must’ve been on a hunting trip, because he got nothing but voicemails

imagine being Carlisle and you come home to a voicemail from your son who’s banished himself from the family that’s just like ‘hi. you’re a grandfather now. I’m having a nervous breakdown and might crash my car. call me back at your earliest convenience I suppose” like what would you DO

after he gets to the airport he starts panicking again, realizing Bella had never actually sent him a picture, worrying about how he’d find her, but then- he sees a tiny girl with untamed, dark red curls, features strikingly similar to his own that are pulled into the expression Bella always made when she was reading, absently chewing on her lip, and before she looks at him with her mother’s big brown eyes, he already knows who he’s looking at, and he’s certain if he was human his tear ducts would be having a fit right now

Renesmee, however, seems less willing to have an emotional meeting. She mumbles out a simple greeting before gathering up her bags and heading for the door, Edward rushing behind her to try and help

listen. the awkwardness of Charlie trying to connect with Bella. but 10000x worse because of Edward’s overthinking, self-deprecating ass and Nessie being like ‘ah yes the guy who broke my pregnant teenage mothers heart, fantastic’ lmao

the car ride is p a i n f u l. Edward’s trying so hard for light conversation and Nessie’s barely giving one word answers. Bella had warned her about the mind reading so she was carefully keeping her mind blocked, which Edward is trying very hard to be understanding about instead of annoyed, but By God does he want to know everything about her

when they get back to his place, she quietly thanks him for the room and then promptly locks him out of it lol. He spends the rest of the day just pacing back and forth until he realizes he should eventually feed her lmao

and that’s...kinda how the first couple weeks go. she only emerges from her room if he bribes her with food, she awkwardly tries to dodge his questions, he drives her to school and then begs her to tell him how it went when he picks her up, he spends his college classes distracted because he’s freaking out constantly about how to successfully bond with her. His favorite time of day now is night, because she can’t block her mind while she’s asleep, and even if her dreams are all nonsense they’re still...part of her that he gets to know.

His family keeps begging him to let them meet her, but he’s pushing back because if she’s this bad at adjusting to one new family member, how is she going to handle six more?

(meanwhile Alice and Rose started a group chat with her and are having a ball clowning Edward lmao)

wait ksjflksd I think this vine perfectly sums up the dynamic im envisioning https://youtu.be/wQZIUHNORHg

anyway they....very slowly make some progress. much too slowly for Edward’s taste, but hey.

Like he finds out snacks she likes. or jewelry she likes. stuff like that and just...wordlessly leaves it around for her lmao. he thinks it’s like trying not to startle a deer, Nessie thinks it’s more like a cat trying to gift you a dead mouse, but either way it’s weirdly endearing.

He notices she always has a huffy little frown when he picks her up on Wednesdays. So instead of begging her for an ounce of information of her school life, he asks her one Wednesday morning if she’s excited for the day and she admits she has an elective class every Wednesday with a girl she doesn’t get along with.

He gets her school photos (and Weeps) and realizes apart from her room the home is fairly barren of decorations, so he buys a bunch of picture frames and hangs up the school shots, and some pictures of the Cullen’s over the years, and the few he has of Bella that he could never bear to part with. Other than catching her smiling at the prom picture of her parents, Nessie doesn’t say anything- but the next time he comes home from hunting, there’s a pile of pictures of her growing up on the table, and he starts weeping all over again as he hangs them up

(there’s one of her and Bella hugging and looking at the camera with identical grins and joy in their eyes, he can’t help but put that in his room. He hopes one day he’ll get to see a scene like that in person)

He starts trying to get her out of her room a little more- he still hasn’t managed to a get a ‘favorites’ list out of her, so he starts playing movies Bella loved, to see if any of them lure her out. some do, some don’t- he got halfway through a Lord of the Rings marathon, which was Torture in his opinion, but then Ness came out and quietly asked if he could restart it and suddenly they became his favorite movies ever.

Bella’s not able to contact her on a set schedule or anything because of her situation (and you can bet your ass Edward’s contacted every vampire he knows and ordered them to help her out if they come across her or the Volturi), and Edward realizes that’s probably taking a toll on the girl, so he starts telling her stories of her mother when he knew her in Forks. She’s particularly amused by the blood typing incident- the first time Edward hears Nessie properly laugh, he literally starts crying on the spot

could you imagine the sheer panic if she ever gets so much as a cold

And yes, she’s still pissed on Bella’s behalf, and yes, she specifically blasts 70s music because Bella told her he hates it one time, and yes, if he looks at her like he’s a kicked puppy one more time she might claw his eyes out, and yes, she refuses to introduce him to her friends from school because she Knows everyone will then start asking her about her ‘hot brother’ and she can’t live with that and also can’t live with him knowing that so she told him if he ever introduces himself to any of her friends she’ll set him on fire, and yes, she’s homesick 95% of the time but...he’s growing on her. like a mold, or something.

(okay, maybe when Seth tried to analyze why Mamma Mia is her favorite musical, he might have had a point. half a point. quarter of a point. shut up.)

And Edward’s still trying to not have a panic attack every time she’s out of his sight- he’s got Carlisle keeping tabs on the Volturi for him, and it’s not exactly hard for him to keep track of her through other people’s minds- but she’s so tiny and her heartbeat is Too Fast and what if she inherited her mother’s unlucky streak??

but they’re toeing the line of co-existing peacefully and Edward’s scared to push it past that

then he has to, because it turns out he sent her to one of Those Schools where the parents have to be involved in the school in some way or another and Nessie’s Annoyed

sdkjfsdkjf she keeps trying to get him to just sign up for like pta meetings or something and he’s like ‘I need you to understand you are the only person in this town I actually know or like I Cannot survive around fundraiser moms I can’t’

so she’s like ugh fine I’m in the drama club

listen.....Stage Parent Edward Cullen.......the power this holds...

that’s right this whole post was an elaborate ruse for me to make a musical theater headcanon again lmao

no okay but seriously he starts off just helping build sets and stuff like that but then midway through the year their music teacher gets fired and the schools like begging him to take over because they can’t find someone in enough time that’ll know the music for the show they’re doing and he’s like “I need you to understand Nessie will never talk to me again if I start actually working at her school” and they’re like “She also will never talk to you again if we have to cancel the big musical, though” and he’s like. fuck.

silent treatment for a week and a half

lmao so now he’s trying to juggle being an overly-enthusiastic stage parent who’s making costumes and sets and kinda crying backstage when he sees his daughter in her costume with also being the music director for the damn show and trying to teach a bunch of kids how to read sheet music

one day he ended up in a coffee shop with the hair and makeup moms, gossiping about the cast’s love lives, and he literally doesn’t know how he got there

is it wrong to pass Nessie in class even though she’s putting all the wrong answers on the test but he Knows she knows the right answers and is only answering wrong to try and get a rise out of him

Bella sneaks into town to see the show- they thought it would push their luck if the pack came, but they sent an ungodly amount of flowers and candy. When she snuck into the house while Ness was sleeping she Was Not expecting to find Edward up to his elbows in sequins, trying to fix a bedazzler he accidentally broke in frustration, muttering under his breath about how if Nessie’s romantic opposite in the show doesn’t keep his thoughts clean he’s gonna kill him- and it just cracks her up. She WAS nervous about seeing Edward again but now she’s assured he’s still a dork lol

So Edward freaks when he sees her but they don’t wanna wake Ness up so they’re trying to be quiet but like. they’re going through it

Like Bella Wants to be pissed at him but she can’t, she still loves him- and while she can’t just get over what he did to her, it’s also not lost on her that ‘leaving to protect someone I love’ is literally what she had to do to her daughter

And Edward....Edward, who only left to give Bella a chance at a safe, human life, seeing Bella in front of him as a vampire, knowing it’s his fault she ended up that way and she had to go through it alone, had to raise a baby herself because he’d made it so hard to find him...knowing if he’d just pulled his head out of his ass he would have been able to be there for her...would be able to form a coherent sentence around his love right now, would have long and fond memories of Nessie’s childhood, likely wouldn’t have to watch Bella hide from the Volturi...he’s back in a self-loathing spiral already

But they haven’t seen each other in so long and they just don’t want to...deal with the unpleasantness right now, so they just push it aside. Bella helps Edward with the costumes. Edward fills her in on what she’s been missing with Nessie. Bella tells him some stuff about when Ness was younger. They just spend the night talking, and it feels like no time has past between them at all- which just makes the heartaches a little stronger

When Nessie wakes up to her mother there she’s ecstatic- bubbly and loud and glued to Bella’s hip all day, giving her in depth play-by-plays of her school and rehearsals and friends she’s made, bouncing on her toes all morning, hyper, giggly, and- it kind of breaks Edward’s heart a little, even though he knows he hasn’t really...earned this side of his daughter, yet.

(at least he got his wish of seeing their twin smiles in person)

(he wishes he could see them every second of every day)

so the girls spend the day catching up while Edward mostly feels like a thirdwheel, and then they have to get Ness over to the school so she can get ready

Bella decides to hang out around the school theater before the show actually starts- she leans against the wall next to the piano, the two talking in hushed tones while Edward runs through songs. Bella really missed watching him play- the only thing that managed to drag her away from it was when Nessie called her to the dressing room to help with a hair emergency

she didn’t talk to him much at intermission, her attention being stolen by the rest of the Cullen family (who had been Very Loudly supporting the show so far, she knew Ness was probably dying of embarrassment backstage)

after the show, the three went back to Edward’s and just...talked. Nessie was gushing about the show and eating while her parents assured her she was the greatest actress ever born, simple stuff like that. she fell asleep sandwiched in between them on the couch

Bella realizes she’s never going to be able to bring herself to leave again if Nessie wakes up, and tells Edward as much. He clearly doesn’t want her to go just yet either, but...she’s on the run, it’s not like she has much choice

He has so much he wants to say to her but he just- can’t. it’s not the right time. but he’s hoping she can see that in his eyes

Bella shifts Nessie off her shoulder so Edward can hold her, and she gives him a light kiss and says ‘thank you, Edward’ before disappearing in a flash. she needed to go before she lost her nerve.

Edward can’t bring himself to let Nessie out of his arms, so instead of carrying her to bed he just stays there, holding her, trying his best not to think that that could be the last time for a long time he’d ever see his Bella again, trying not to let thoughts of a life he gave up unwittingly consume him

okay I didn’t mean for this to be So Long so I’m cutting it here uhh...let me know if anyone wants a part 2? sorry lmao

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #edbella #twilight saga #asks #molly mumbles #elephantlovingmouse

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wonlouvre · 4 years ago

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pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 2.1k WARNINGS: mentions of food, eating, hospitals, and brief mention of armed men

author’s note: finallyyy! been working on this for the past week and i’m relieved to be posting part 3 already! i’m not so confident about this and i am already warning you all that this could be dialogue heavy :((( please let me know your thoughts! i’d be really thankful to hear from you all!

three: subtle snuggles and light snores | masterlist

Wonwoo chose to work at the Royal Hospital of the neighboring kingdom at his own will. He and the rest of the people in his kingdom won’t deny how the other kingdom pioneered in the line of medicine.That’s why in spite of the many offers and opportunities at his homeland, he wanted to gain experience somewhere else first before going back home.

The marriage wasn’t served on the table before and when his parents broke the news to him, he was already hired and working for a few months. And now that a marriage is in talks, it seems unlikely that he’ll be going back anytime soon.

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate to agree. But someplace in his heart couldn’t help but wonder how it got to this. He’s not saying you’re terrible. You’re the exact opposite of being terrible. To him, you are amazing and awesome. A badass even.

There’s nothing really holding him back. Even his past relationship that you brought up previously.

It’s just that he wanted a purpose out of this union aside from the fact that this will bear the best outcome for his and your kingdom.

Wonwoo was once in love.

He knows, used to know rather, how his heart skipped a beat and how butterflies filled his stomach. But then came you and he is back to zero. He wants to like you. He wants to love you.

He doesn’t want to be a husband recognized by the public. Instead, he wants to be the lifetime companion that you can lean on and trust. He hopes that you see that he’s trying to be one.

It’s a challenge though, because he doesn’t know how or where to begin.

These thoughts have been running on his mind for the longest of days and even now as he gazes at your face, deep in slumber. What happened earlier was a shock. All he wanted was to invite you for a quick lunch before he goes to work and here you are now literally at his workplace, getting the right amount of rest you’ve been missing.

“Your Highness,” the Royal Family’s doctor calls to him politely while the two nurses accompanying him check on you. Wonwoo only gives a brief nod of acknowledgement. “I advise the Princess to stay overnight to recover from her dehydration and stress. A day away from work would be immensely helpful.”

Wonwoo’s eyes don't leave you as he continues to nod and agree with the doctor’s orders. It doesn’t look like it, but he is paying attention to every word the older one is saying. He bites his lip, beating himself up for not knowing what could be causing you stress.

“If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to page us,” the doctor assures and Wonwoo finally turns his attention to him.

“Thank you so much.” He extends his arm for a handshake before letting them leave.

Wonwoo sighs before taking the seat beside your bed again. As much as he wants to go closer and maybe opt to hold your hand, he doesn’t. He just keeps his eyes on you. Your face looks so peaceful while sleeping, a small smile can’t help but form on the Prince’s face. It’s a relief that it’s nothing bad. But still, he can’t feel at ease until he sees your eyes once again. He decided to take a leave from work and stay beside you until you wake up and get discharged.

He has already informed the King and Queen of what happened and they will be here shortly.

“Wonwoo, my dear,” the Queen greets while opening her arms to the young doctor for a quick embrace. “How are you?”

The King walked past the warm exchange, not wasting any time to be close to your bed. “How is she?”

“Your Majesty,” Wonwoo doesn’t fail to say his greetings first before going on full doctor mode. “The Princess is stable. She just needs to replenish her energy by having lots of rest and she’ll be discharged as early as tomorrow morning. Would you like me to call the doctor in charge?”

“No, no,” the Queen answers, now sitting with her husband who’s been gently cradling your cheek. “We’ll go to him ourselves. I’m just glad you are here for her Wonwoo.”

“Ever the hard worker, she is,” your father mutters a harmless complaint. “I will give her a scolding once she wakes up. Scratch that, I am going to have the Prince do that in my place. He’s the doctor after all.” Finally, the King looks at him, a glint of humor in his eyes.

Wonwoo blushes and keeps his head low. He scratches the back of his neck before firmly promising, “I will take care of her better next time, Your Majesty.”

“Nonsense,” the Queen dismisses his apologetic tone with a wave of her hand. “Everyone gets sick every day and it just so happened that it’s our Princess this time around.”

An hour after the King and Queen left, Wonwoo’s eyes grew heavy. Unbeknownst to him, his head gravitated to your bed and close to your arm. He tried to keep his eyes open, still determined on waiting until you wake up, but his determination was futile because it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep beside you.

His face was the first thing you saw the moment you regained consciousness. The top of his head was snuggled to your arm, surprising you. At first, you couldn’t figure out what was going on. But the remembrance of the three cups of coffee you had was enough to answer the questions running in your mind. Then, the embarrassment came too soon because you also remember the look on Wonwoo’s face when he saw your agony.

You’re still not feeling well. You should probably get more sleep instead of resenting your embarrassment. You release a low groan, momentarily forgetting the sleeping Prince beside you.

Wonwoo stirs a little before opening slowly his eyes and meeting yours. He sits up in a heartbeat and blinks his sleep away to make sure you are really awake.

After confirming, he releases the breath he had been holding. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” you whisper, completely bashful. “How long was I asleep?”

“It’s eight o’clock now,” he answers while looking at his watch. “You were asleep for the whole afternoon so approximately eight to nine hours.”

“Wow,” you mutter in sincere disbelief. “I haven’t slept that long since I started working.”

“That’s why you’re going to sleep more.” Wonwoo stands up and fixes the blanket that’s keeping your body warm.

You frown and weakly stop his actions. “What do you mean? Am I not allowed to go home tonight?”

“Nope,” he answers and pushes your hand back down. “You’re staying overnight and that’s your doctor’s advice.”

“I don’t want to lay on this bed for 24 hours,” you whine, lips in a pout. “Can’t you give me clearance instead?”

“I’m not the doctor in charge and I am more than sure that you know that,” the Prince reminds and gently pat your head. “Go back to sleep and once morning comes, you’ll be good to go.”

Seeing that he has made a point, you give up and let your body relax on the bed in spite of your reluctance. You are smart enough to know that you can’t outsmart a doctor like him.

Wonwoo grins in victory and makes himself comfortable on the chair. He then pulls his phone out to make a quick check on some emails and updates at the emergency room.

That got you confused. Why is he still here? You blink suddenly realizing how he had stayed with you ever since you got admitted. You were embarrassed earlier but now you are sorry.

“Are you not… leaving?” You ask. “I can manage alone. All I need to do is sleep this away, right?”

“Sleep Y/N,” Wonwoo commands while his eyes and hands remain focused on his phone, dodging your question.

At the sound of your name, you roll your eyes and turn to the other side of the bed with a huff. As the days go by, you have noticed that Wonwoo can be mischievous and whenever he becomes one, it makes your cheeks blush red and heat up like wildfire.

Wonwoo just snorts at your annoyance. He puts his phone back in his pocket and puts his attention at the back of your head as your breathing slowly even out, much needed sleep once again taking over your body.

Wonwoo didn’t want to leave you when morning came and Jeongyeon arrived with your new set of clothes and warm meal. But he knew he had to go back to work and fulfill his sworn duty in spite of the validity of his excuse that his fiancee is sick. Other than that, but most importantly, he just wanted to see your eyes again first thing in the morning and he’d be content.

You seemed to be exhausted still because he could hear your light snores even when the sunlight through your room was enough to indicate how late it is already in the morning. But time is ticking and he is needed at the emergency ward. So, disregarding his qualms, he took the paper bag of clothing from his friend and colleague, Soonyoung, and changed.

Afterwards, Wonwoo picks up a thermometer and checks your temperature one last time to make sure that you don’t have any fever. All the while, oblivious to the knowing grin of your assistant.

“Please call me when she wakes up. I’d like to see her before she gets discharged,” he requests, hands busy fixing your blanket for the ninth time.

Jeongyeon smiles, aware that there’s nothing left to fix on your bed anymore, before answering. “Will do, Your Highness.”

Finally, the Prince takes his leave but not after giving one last glance to the sleeping Princess.

Jeongyeon immediately fed you the moment you woke up. She didn’t take no for an answer, reminding you that it’s her responsibility to take care of you and that her failure to do so is equivalent to having her head beheaded (it’s not enacted anymore).

At this point she’s now nagging you and it just falls deaf to your ears because you are indeed starving after all the sleeping. You ate every food she brought from the warm soup to the last grain of rice so fast, you looked like you were inhaling them instead of chewing properly. That made Jeongyeon scold you again reminding you that you’re about to be discharged from the hospital and she can’t have you admitted again because of indigestion this time around.

“I am glad that you’re eating well, Your Highness,” the Royal Doctor gladly says. He’s now here to run one last check up before giving you the clearance you’ve been begging Wonwoo for last night.

Wonwoo, you suddenly remembered. Where is he?

“Your Highness?”

“Oh yes,” you reply, waking up from your daze. “Sorry, I think I ate way too much. Please go on.”

The Royal Doctor checked your chart, frequently updated by the nurses on duty all throughout your stay. He then sits on the chair once used by the Prince to ask a few questions to make sure he’s not missing on anything. Your head still feels heavy but it’s nothing you can’t handle. He assures you that you are fine and gives you the reminders that he usually does with cases like yours.

“That’s it.” He clasps his hands together and stands up. “You are more than free to go. Please come back next month for a check up.”

“Yes, I will,” you say and reach for his hand to shake it. “Thank you very mu-”

You couldn’t even thank your doctor properly when someone suddenly barges in through your door with a bang. You recognized him right away as head of your security detail.

“I apologize, Your Highness,” he says, eyes on the floor. Soon, more men follow behind him. “But we have to leave the hospital and move you somewhere safer right this instant.”

Jeongyeon already knows what to do, moving quickly to help you sit up. Meanwhile, the doctor grabs the wheelchair from the small storage room and helps keep your IV stay in place as you move from the bed.

Once you’re all secured, everyone dashed out of the room.

“What the hell is going on?” You demand answers from the men surrounding you and Jeongyeon, who’s pushing the chair to the private elevator.

“There has been a commotion caused by armed men at the Emergency Room,” the head reports and upon hearing where he is talking about, your heart drops to your stomach. “The hospital’s security has it under control but we won’t be taking any chances on letting you stay here any longer, Your Highness.”

“Stop.”

Wonwoo.

#seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #fic: ifliys

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enviedear · 4 years ago

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miss moonlight, put in a word → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which draco sees the same annoying hufflepuff he’s enamored within his dreams every night, but can’t muster up the courage to talk to her in waking life. so instead he talks to the moon, telling the rock that’s miles away, everything he wants to tell her. little does he know, she does the same thing.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 3k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

its a little angsty im sorry. but im nervous abt this and have been sitting on posting it for almost a month now so please lmk if you like it :)

based off the songs talking to the moon by bruno mars and please mr sun by tommy edwards

she waves at him, her eyes holding a happy glimmer. he walks closer to her and wraps his long arms around her, pulling her close. he breathes in her scent and she giggles. it sounds like heaven. he holds her like that for what feels like forever before she pulls away.

he watches as she sits down in the grass, patting the place beside her.

“sit draco.” she commands. he complies.

“i love it when i’m asleep. you’re here and the world is so much more peaceful.” he smiles, a real true smile. not like the ones he usually gives now.

“but imagine if we were awake. the world might not be so wonderful, but we’d have each other. and the sun. and the wind. and the trees. and missus moon.” she grins, looking up at the bright blue sky.

he wants to agree, and tell her that’s all they’ll ever need. but he knows he can’t. because truth be told he needs more. he needs to know his family will be safe. he needs to know if he’ll make it out of his sixth year alive. he needs more than the sun and moon.

instead, he places his head in her lap, relishing in the way her fingers card through his hair. she sings a song he can’t place as he falls asleep.

“i love you y/n” he whispers, right before he dozes off.

that’s how the dreams usually end. he always slips off to sleep so peacefully in your arms. but when he wakes up, he’s still in the slytherin dorm, lonely and afraid.

yours end in the same way, and when you wake, you’re clutching your pillow as if it’s him. you don’t dare tell anyone about the dreams. your friends and family would think you mad. but it’s enough for you to be able to have them, even if you’re not sure if they’re shared or not.

you see the way he looks in the dining hall, potions, and in passing. he’s always so monotonous. so unlike the boy you’ve grown up with.

you of course have dreams, where he’s told you everything that has happened to him. he’s confessed to you that he’s working with voldemort, for his parents' sake. he even told you about dumbledore. but no matter how much you beg him to leave that life behind, he can't. besides, you’re dreaming all of this. who’s to say it’s even real.

so you stay away, yearning for bedtime. where you can talk to the boy you love more than anything else in the world.

you’re not sure how the dreams started but you have an idea.

and so does draco.

he reckons he must have used some sort of wandless magic the night he was thinking to himself on the astronomy tower. it had been a humid night and he was all alone. his eyes deadset on the bright moon in front of him. he had just started talking.

he knew the moon wasn’t someone that could actually listen but then again, maybe that’s what he wanted? he didn’t want someone to place any input on his situation. he just wanted to speak and let his thoughts travel into the void and maybe out from his aching head.

“i just want everything to be okay. mother deserves a son who can protect her and.. father needs me. i can’t fail. i just wish i had someone to talk to when the sun goes down. someone kind and someone warm. i know they’re somewhere out there. but maybe all i’ll ever have is you missus moon, at night when it’s just the stars to listen in to our conversation.” the boy had mumbled, before making his way to his dorm room.

you had been having a word with missus moon that night as well, alone in your hufflepuff prefect dorm. you thought yourself lucky to have a window so that you could see the stars and the moon. you were fighting sleep and had no one else to speak to, so you watched the bright yellow moon as you recounted your troubles.

“my dreams have been so bad recently missus moon. i think it’s because i’m still so scared for everyone and myself. they say the dark lord could strike any day. i’d hate for anyone i love or even myself to end up like poor cedric. i wish i had someone to talk to, someone to understand. everyone thinks i’m crazy, but they don’t know what i know. the world is getting scary. at least when the stars light up my room i have you missus moon.” you had sighed getting off the floor and laying down in your bed.

that night draco dreamt of flower fields and you. at first, the boy wondered if maybe it was real. it seemed real. he could see you and everything around you so vividly. and the same for you, you made out his platinum hair and could smell his crisp cologne. but when the two of you awoke, you knew it couldn’t be real.

until the next night, where the both of you met again in your dreams.

“are you following me?” you had asked draco.

he narrowed his eyes at you, “how could i follow you into a dream. what a stupid thing to ask.”

“you’re supposed to be nice to me. this is my dream after all.” you had pouted.

draco snorted, “i need to stop drinking tea before bed. i’m having dreams where the people in them think they’re the ones doing the dreaming.”

“but i am the one dreaming! this is my dream. i can control it, watch!” you’d grinned, before commanding a nearby tree to grow apples.

draco’s eyes had widened, “no, this can’t be right.”

you watched as he wished for the tree to grow taller before glaring at you, “smack yourself.”

you glared back at him, “no, but you can shove your fist down your throat if you’re going to be rude.”

draco circled you, “so you don’t have to do what i tell you and neither do i. strange.”

“why would i have to do what you tell me to do in my own dream?” you’d asked.

the boy had shrugged, “maybe it’s not just your dream. maybe it’s mine too.”

that’s the most the two of you ever discussed the shared dreams. after that there wasn’t a need. you both enjoyed them. both of you needed them.

once in study hall you caught draco reading a book about dreams but you didn’t ask him about it. in truth, you were too afraid to have him label you as insane.

draco found himself wanting to speak with you too. countless times. he had grown quite fond of you after the dreams he found you in every night. so in the daytime, he would sneak glances at you. he took notice if you did your hair differently or if your makeup was done. of course, he knew he couldn’t talk to you. you’d think him mad. still, he found himself dropping subtle clues to see if you’d come over to him, like reading a ghastly book about dreams in a class the two of you shared. it hadn’t worked but he could have sworn he caught you looking his way.

draco spends hours obsessing over you, the dreams, and the few glances you would give him. but the vanishing cabinet is almost fixed and he knows it’d be foolish to speak to you now. no matter how much he wishes to run into your arms and tell you to take him away from here, he won’t.

it’s a dreary day in june and you’re getting snacks for some of the first years when you hear it. maniacal laughter and breaking glass. your first thought is to check on your house. you rush into the hufflepuff common room and make sure everyone’s ok and then urge them to stay safe. they nod and bolt to their dorms.

then, you make your way to the source of the noise. the dining hall, which is torn to shreds, is crawling with death eaters. you feel lightheaded as you watch them. out of the corner of your eye, you see professor snape making his way to the astronomy tower.

curious, you quietly sneak behind him, careful not to make yourself known. you hear a voice above you. a voice you recognize.

draco.

you’re trying your hardest to figure out what he’s saying but you can’t. all the sounds around you are blending together and you can’t seem to calm down enough to hear anything. when the professor reaches the tower, underneath the scene of whatever is going on, you stay behind.

in a flash, the teacher is out of your vision and upstairs in the chaos.

“severus, please.” is all you hear before the killing curse bolts out of snape’s mouth.

you stand in shock as the footsteps trail out of the tower. draco. snape. dumbledore. death eaters. it was all so much.

“y/n! are you ok?” a watery-eyed harry potter asks from beside you. you don’t even question how he got here or if he saw what you did. instead, you fling your arms around him and stare at the wall petrified. no tears can escape your eyes, you’re in disbelief.

“come on. you have to breathe and we have to get down there. get your wand ready. we have to do something!” he shouts, voice breaking.

you look at him for a second before he bolts out of the room, wand in hand.

instead of trying to fight, talking to anyone about what you saw, or even going to look at your headmaster’s dead body like everyone else, you slip quietly into your prefects dorm.

you watch the moon until she’s gone and when you see mr sun the tears finally fall. you mumble, “talk to him please, mr sun.”

draco glanced at the blinding sun from the malfoy garden, where he had spent the night. he couldn’t be in that house. not after everything that happened. so instead, he sat in the garden thinking of his best thoughts, you.

he watches the sunrise, listens to the winds and the robins singing, and mutters to himself, “tell her how i feel. it shouldn’t end this way. since you are all her friends, she’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

a baby robin sings a little louder, almost like it’s agreeing, and it causes the boy to cry.

it’s an eerily quiet early morning in the room of requirement on the second of may. you’re in the back of the room, trying to sleep. sleep has become your only form of happiness. your dreams have become a wonderful fairytale. draco is still prevalent and he holds you tighter and tighter with each night.

almost as soon as you drift to bed, you hear gasps. you look up to find harry, ron, and hermione. without a care in the world, you rush to the three just like everyone else. harry gives you a weak smile and you return it.

the three of them explain that today is the day. today is the day the world is split into two and voldemort attacks. plans are arranged and everyone holds each other close.

selfishly, you wish you could see draco.

minutes later, a meeting is called by snape in the dining hall. You watch as neville and ginny procure robes for the green-eyed boy and walk to the hall.

the carrows look at everyone with malice in their eyes as snape drones on about a sighting of harry in hogsmeade. soon after, harry shows himself and begins arguing with the black-haired man. he tells everyone about the night in the astronomy tower.

mcgonagall throws curses at the man along with harry before he flies out of the hall. The woman looks at all of us, eyes wide but determined.

in a rush, everyone is scattered about. you follow neville to the bridge and help as much as you can. when the death eaters, led by greyback, enter hogwarts, you stand your ground. you’re ready to fight.

draco easily locates blaise and goyle before heading off to find his wand and harry potter. his chest aches with looming fear but he tries to repress it the most he can.

“i guess this is it boys.” blaise sighs.

draco looks at his friend, “we’ll be fine. just stay safe and together. don’t go weak on me now zabini.”

you’re doing your best to fight off corban yaxley but every time you’re ready to throw a killing blow his way he narrowly hits you with the killing curse. your fighting in a state of pure unadulterated anger. it’s been hours of fighting but your anger remains.

“stupid little girl, you’ll be dead before nightfall.” yaxley spits before hitting you with a weak spell.

you still double over a bit, but hold your ground enough to raise your wand and hit him with the cruciatus curse. in the corner of your eye you watch professor flintwick begin dueling the vicious man, before running inside the castle.

fire burns everywhere around draco. he’s about to turn to blaise and say his goodbyes before potter snatches him up and leads him out of the room of requirement. the second he’s on the ground he makes a run for it. he loses blaise on the way and can’t seem to figure out where to go. he’s on the second floor, tears are pooling out of his eyes and the ache in his chest has grown when his body collides with another.

you fall back, hitting your head against the hard stone of the castle floor. when you look up, your vision is hazy and shaky.

“y/n?”

you know that voice. it’s the same voice you’ve heard every single night for a year.

“draco?” you ask, hands reaching out.

“you’re bleeding. let me help,” he says before gently healing your head.

you stare at the boy, “you know it feels weird to see you. i’ve never really spoken to you besides the dreams.”

his eyes grow wide, “you know about those?”

you smile a little, “yeah, i do.”

the two of you find yourselves entering the great hall, helping whoever you two can.

draco is comforting a teary-eyed second year when blaise zabini comes in, eyes bloodshot and clutching his right arm.

you watch as the two embrace, pulling apart so that draco can tend to his arm.

minutes that feel like hours pass as the three of you silently process the commotion going on around you.

a tattered luna lovegood emerges through the rubble and towards the three of you.

“everyone’s outside now- harry he... i think you all should come with me.” her shaky voice requests.

draco looks to you and nods, helping you rise. his hand grasps yours and you all follow luna outside.

all around you is destruction. the place you’ve called home for years in now a bruised battleground and at the very center of it stands the man you’ve come to fear more than anything in the world. voldemort.

“harry potter, is dead.” the creature laughs.

you grip draco tighter and he looks at you with an expression of sorrow.

“from this day forth you put your faith in me. and now is the time to declare yourself! come forward and join us. or die.” the man spits, smiling at the broken faces opposite him.”

it is quiet for just a moment before lucius malfoy calls for his son. you watch the man and his wife plead with him. but his hand remains in yours and feet right beside you.

you look up at him and give him your brightest smile, a smile you would give him in dreams. as he peers down at you he knows that nothing in the world means more to him than you and that smile he’s spent hours telling missus moon about.

“you insolent boy, draco!” the snake-like man hisses.

you turn to face him, eyes wide with fury and hate.

neville begins limping toward the band of villains.

“i’d like to say something.” the boys breathes out.

voldemort smirks at him, “well neville i’m sure we’d all be fascinated to hear what you have to say.”

“you’re wrong! harry’s heart did beat for us, for all of us!” and with that, he pulls the sword of godric gryffindor out of the sorting hat he’s been clutching and aims it at the deatheaters and their leader.

draco’s head cranes in harry’s direction, and in an instant, the boy flies out of hagrid’s arms and throws a spell at voldemort.

you cry out along with everyone else before watching voldemort’s followers disappear.

“come on, we’ve fought enough. i won’t let you die now!” draco commands, leading you to the bridge.

you follow, but turn to look at the castle one last time. draco stops as well and you see him meet ron and hermione’s gaze. ron nods his head and draco returns the gesture.

“let’s go draco.” you sigh.

he didn’t know he’d see you again. the two of you had gone to your home to bathe and sleep and when the boy found himself in his dreams, he saw you.

you smile at the platinum haired boy, “sit draco.”

he complies.

“i hope you haven’t gotten tired of seeing me. i suppose it will be a lot now. to have me in waking and in sleep.” you giggle.

draco stares at you deeply, “i could never get tired of you. i’ve spent a year talking to the moon, trying to get you. in hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too. i’ve asked the sun to tell you all the things i couldn’t, the wind to whisper all the things i love about you, all the rainbows to make you smile, and the trees to take you under their branches. i’d want nothing more than this.”

you lean your head on his shoulder, “i’m here now and we have eternity to tell eachother the things we haven’t said yet.”

the two of you can’t help but to stare at the moon some nights, silently thanking missus moonlight for putting in a word.

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fatefulfaerie · 3 years ago

Note

Requesting for Zelda taking care of Link when he's sick 👀👀 thanks!

Livin' On A Prayer

Five words and everything else faded. She felt dizzy, her ears were buzzing, and her eyes were going out of focus. The doctor continued to talk but his words were unheard as she stared blankly in shock.

He wouldn’t last the week

He wouldn’t last the week.

She forgot that the words “worst case scenario” came before them, she forgot the doctor was still talking, she forgot her children were listening until a small hand tugged on her shirt. She was thrust back into the moment.

Zelda looked over to her son, his green eyes so unlike hers, filled with intrigue instead of sadness, oozing with an innocence she almost regretted giving him.

“What’s happening in a week, momma?” The three-year old asked.

Zelda moved her lips and yet struggled to find the words, looking at the doctor across from her desperately. Tears formed in her speechlessness.

“Elyjah,” the doctor beckoned. “Come here.”

The little boy tottered over, the doctor placing his large hands on either of the boy’s small shoulders.

“Take your sister and go up the hill to Purah’s lab.”

They boy turned his head back around to his mother, who couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. If he knew something was wrong, he didn’t say a word about it, looking back at the doctor.

“Your mom will come to get you both before supper,” the doctor continued. “Can you do that?”

Elyjah nodded, and before Zelda knew it, he had taken Wendie’s hand and was downstairs and out the door.

Zelda looked down at the way her hands wrung as the doctor waited patiently for her next question. He had told her everything he could, but knew that in these types of situations, things often needed repeating.

“Is…” Zelda tried, but her voice was weak, broken and shaky, unrehearsed and improper. “…I-Is there anything that can be done to cure him…before…”

She couldn’t even finish.

Luckily, she didn’t need to for the doctor to understand what she was asking.

“Like I said, all treatments would be experimental.” He said. “But you and I both know that we are out of miracles, fairies have no affect and all common elixirs do nothing to stop the symptoms. Pretty soon the fluid in his lungs won’t let him breathe, and there won’t be anything we can do except be thankful that the tough elixirs I gave to you and your children prevented the spread of the disease.”

Zelda nodded.

“The uhm…” she attempted. “The enduring elixir that you’ve been giving him…that manages the symptoms, it has tireless frogs and monster parts, right?”

“That’s right,” the doctor said with a nod. “And I am currently experimenting with energetic rhino beetles and restless crickets to create something a bit stronger, perhaps even a more permanent cure, but as I said there is no guarantee, and if nothing works you’ll be a widow within…”

The doctor stopped himself, bit his tongue and cursed his bluntness, especially, since the green eyes that looked at him burned with an angry grief.

“I apologize,” the doctor said, standing up. “I will return tomorrow to check up on him. May Hylia bless him and your family.”

Zelda knew he meant that as a parting of reassurance as she leaned back with a sigh in the chair she sat, hearing the doctor depart from the house as she thought of how very little Hylia had to do with any of it.

“Zelda,” Link’s voice croaked. It sounded terribly painful and Zelda looked over immediately at the sound that meant Link had woken up.

“Link,” she said, rushing over to her husband’s side and taking his hand. His head looked over to meet her eyes, that filled with love as much as his. His blonde hair was unbrushed and tangled, let loose from the blue elastic he had begun to wear less frequently ever since the incident in the caves.

It all seemed like a lifetime ago.

“What did the doctor say?” Link asked, his voice even more broken than Zelda’s, hoarse and crumbly. His breathing was loud too, as if Zelda could hear his lungs fighting to breathe the wild again.

“N-nothing,” Zelda lied. “Nothing. E-everything’s fine.”

Link rolled his head so that he looked up at the ceiling.

“That bad, huh?”

Zelda took a deep breath into her next words.

“He thinks you will be gone within the week,” she said, and she couldn’t help but glance at the small white rags near him, that were dotted with flem with hues ranging from yellow to white, and even a couple that showed he was coughing up blood. Zelda shook her head, meaning to voice that she would stop this from happening but her inhale turned into a sob. Zelda dove her head into Link’s chest and cried tears that hiccuped her shoulders, that prompted Link to rest his good hand on her head.

“I won’t let this happen, Link,” Zelda said, her voice muffled. “I can’t, I…I-I’ll work day and night to find something…something that’s enough to cure…”

Her sobbing stopped her words, Link gently petting the hair on her head as he stared at the ceiling of their Hateno home.

He wasn’t ready to die, and he wasn’t ready to accept it either.

With his other arm he clutched her, hugged her, melted into her.

“You’ll find it,” he said. “And even if you don’t, it’s okay. This isn’t on you.”

Zelda retreated from the embrace, sniffling away her tears with no concern for wiping them away.

“You feel warm,” she said, taking the wet rag off his forehead. Link looked over to see her standing up. “I’ll replace this. Do you need anything else? Are you hungry? Thirsty? I should bring you water regardless.” She was on the verge of more tears but she steadily ignored it. “And food, I’ll make you a bunch of dishes you like. One of them is bound to be appetizing.”

“Zelda--”

“Then of course I’ll get back to researching a cure,” Zelda continued. “I’ll have the kids spend the night at Purah’s because it will be a long night for sure. Of course you need your rest.”

“Zelda,” Link asserted, squeezing her hand. He continued slowly, “you do too.”

Zelda shook her head, denying his insistence and pulling his wrist away so that his fingers let go of her hand.

“Not until you are better,” Zelda said, almost angry. Not angry at Link, but at the world, at her luck. It was one thing to be tortured by Calamity Ganon for 117 years, and then to find themselves in a true battle with him that separated them between earth and sky, but to get through all that for it to end here? She couldn’t fathom it.

She descended the stairs before Link could disagree, and spent the night pouring over every book, every journal, whether hers or Link’s, every spare footnote, and anything they could have forgotten.

When the sun rose the next day, blanketing her in a warm, golden glow, the entire kitchen table was covered in books and notes. And yet the one she used as her pillow was a very old journal, from Link’s first venture around Hyrule after emerging from the shrine of resurrection.

Although Zelda was sound asleep, the words “Medicinal Molduga” seemed to have been circled before she conked out. Whether it was because she let herself sleep or because she simply was overtaken by fatigue, the doctor had no idea, treading into their Hateno home after knocking and hearing no response.

“Miss,” he said shaking her shoulder. “Miss I think we’ve done it, Miss.”

“What?” Zelda said as her eyes fluttered open, her head slowly lifting from where it gave her a great creak in the neck. She looked over.

“Doctor Grey,” she said with narrow, tired eyes that tried to block out the sunlight. “What are you doing here?”

“I did it,” he said excitedly, almost too excitedly for so early in the morning. He sat down at a nearby chair. “I figured it out. A procedure that can safely drain the fluid from his lungs. All I needed was something to kill the infection afterwards and…I think you just figured it out.”

“I did what?” Zelda said, obviously still half-awake, her eyes closing and opening lethargically.

“See right here,” the doctor said. “You circled Molduga. I never thought to use that as medicine before but the way their stomach acids are constructed might just work as an antibacterial agent. It’s so obvious.”

“I don’t remember doing that at all,” Zelda said, shaking her head, looking at the old journal before it actually came together in her head. “Wait, are...are you telling me…”

The doctor nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “There’s a chance. Do you have any Molduga guts here?”

“Oh, of course,” Zelda said, standing up quickly and shuffling through drawers desperately and haphazardly. “We always have something of everything.”

In the last drawer she saw it, their salvation, some green goop she once thought nothing of. She smiled, she cried, and after she sent the doctor along with the guts the prepare for the procedure, she woke up Link and kissed him, kissed him like she did when they reunited for good, when they married, when they had their children, and every other milestone after that, whether small or big.

And later that day, when the procedure was successful and his symptoms were fading, she kissed him like that again. She could breathe a breath of relief when Link proved to have the strength to sit up and truly kiss her back for the first time in a month.

Instances where I've done something similar to your prompt because that was probably disappointing:

A Tender Moment

Honesty Part 6/7

Enraptured

#zelink #breath of the wild #botw #botw 2 #i guess #but not really #this oneshot started out good and then I don't know what happened #I lost the pacing I know #and I couldn't get it back

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the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo · 3 years ago

Text

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 4

Good morning, afternoon, evening fam. Hope you all are doing good.

Here's the next installment of Missed Opportunities. There's one chapter left. Hopefully this one will be enough to tide you over to the finale.

Thank you for all the continued support. Love you all.

-----

Tag-List:

@ajeff855 @vrsidae @greeneyedblondie44 @bbakugaan03 @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @aisling1985 @fillechatoyante @maria-chwan @neoarchipelago @lostghostgirl94 @whovianayesha @mochminnie @fanfics-ig @congurl @ay0nha

Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it’s easy to lose people in the mix and I don’t want to miss anyone!

For previous chapters go here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Word Count: 2,462

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You were violently woken up in the middle of the night. At some point, during the early hours of the morning, you must have rolled over onto your side. The movement caused your bruised body to send a jolt of stinging pain to your brain, immediately causing you to jerk awake.

You squeezed your eyes shut and took deep breaths to ride out the wave of agony. After the pain subsided, you let out a small groan and attempted to situate yourself again. You failed to find any real rest after that incident and faded in and out of sleep until you could see dawn about to break. Through your restlessness, you thought you could hear faint murmurs and reassurances in your ear.

Delirium must have set in, because when you woke up for good this time, you realized you had a blanket covering your body and a heaviness on your left hand.

You lolled your head to the side to avoid the faint rays of sunlight streaming into the room. You blinked several times before peering down at your hand, which you now noticed, was being held by another person.

Remembering the previous night's events, your eyes travelled up the arm of the person holding your hand, tracking all the way until you landed on the person's face.

Zemo.

He was still here with you and apparently had fallen asleep during the night.

You swallowed thickly and not because of the throbbing pain coursing through you. Your eyes flicked up to the nightstand to see the book he was reading placed neatly at the corner.

He chose to stay.

Your eyes moved back to look at Zemo. To really look at him. He seemed so much younger in his sleep. The tense concentration lining the features of his face each day were gone. The weight of his decisions and promises he made to himself given a reprieve. You wondered when the last time was he truly slept.

For all the wrongs he had done, the choices he had made, he did so out of grief and love. He's a complicated man to be sure. For all his darkness, there is still a light that shines brightly in him.

Though you disagreed with his methods of avenging his family, you knew from his actions, that when Helmut Zemo loved, he loved with his entire being. There was no question about it.

For this one moment, you decided to give in. You softly brushed your thumb back and forth against the skin of the hand holding yours. If you could give him one brief second of comfort, you hoped it was this.

You smiled to yourself as you watched Zemo snuffle in his slumber and unconsciously tighten his grip on your hand, but not uncomfortably.

You had the irrational urge to run your fingers through his hair, but he was sitting too far out of your reach. So you settled for continuing to stroke gentle touches along his hand.

His presence was calming. Safe. There was no where else you wanted to be right now.

You looked up to the ceiling to glance at the digital clock projecting the time. 5:42AM. Definitely too early. You wondered if Bucky and Sam had returned from their outing last night.

If you were to guess, you'd think not, because they most likely wouldn't have allowed Zemo to stay with you the whole evening.

You twist your neck up to the night stand and tried to grab your phone with your bad arm. It wasn't your best idea. You had full range of motion again since Bucky popped your shoulder back into place, but the soreness was downright breath-taking, and coupled with your ribs, you were wheezing with effort to retrieve the phone.

Your finger tips manage to grab the edge of the phone. You attempted to scoot it closer to you so you could grip it better. Unfortunately, you ended up clumsily knocking the phone onto the floor with a clatter, arousing your companion out of his sleep.

Zemo snapped to attention immediately. With his years of military experience, it would disappoint you if he didn't.

He quickly assessed the room before his gaze landed on you. The tension in his body released once he realized there was no threat. His eyes dropped to the hand he was holding.

You could see his brow furrow in confusion, as if he didn't know how his hand got to be where it currently was. Zemo tilted his head in thought, eyes never leaving where your hands were joined together. You could see an indecisiveness written across his face. After a beat, he seemed to resign himself to whatever was running through his mind, because he sighed heavily and gave a sad smile. Then he gently lifted your arm towards him to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

"Hi," you shyly responded. Zemo's kiss was just the barest brush of his lips against your skin, but it was electric all the same. You were too stunned by his action to do or say anything else except stare.

"Morning," he rasped quietly. His voice was still riddled with the remnants of someone who had just woken up. He brought your hand back to the bed as he made a move to sit up in his chair more appropriately, "How are you feeling?"

You cleared your throat and licked your lips as you take stock of your injuries before answering him, "Been better. Could have been a lot worse."

"That's not what I asked," he said, clearly unimpressed with your attempt to dodge answering him properly.

"I'm in pain; however, it is manageable," you answer him honestly. You felt he deserved that for having stayed with you the entire evening, and you didn't want him feeling guilty over whatever it was that was eating at him.

You maneuvered yourself to swing your legs over the bed captiously and sort out your stiff limbs without making any sudden quick movements. Zemo silently held out his arm in an offer of assistance, should you need it.

"Are Sam and Bucky not back yet? I can't imagine they would let you stay here and watch over me," you glanced at Zemo, trying to make light of the heaviness hanging in the room. You used your good arm to brace yourself on the nightstand next to you to push off of and stand up.

Zemo lowered his arm and stood up from his seat once he saw you were okay to move about on your own. You saw him turn his head towards the door which was cracked opened slightly before facing you fully.

"They did come back briefly early this morning to check on you. And you are correct, James did, in fact, kick me out, but both he and Sam left again for a few hours. They should be making their return soon. I must have dozed off at some point when I came back to check on you, so thank you for waking me. I would like to avoid a confrontation from either Sam or James," Zemo worded carefully.

You felt as if he were leaving something out, but decided against calling him out on it.

"I appreciate you staying, but you didn't really need to," you replied earnestly, shrugging a shoulder.

"On the contrary, I am the reason you are in the state you are in. It was the very least I could do," Zemo said.

You knitted your brow together and moved to look at Zemo more closely. Lips pursed, it was your turn to be confused.

"I'm not following. You weren't even here when everything went down with Walker yesterday," you expressed slowly and hesitantly.

Maybe it was just too early in the morning to have sensible conversation.

Zemo shook his head and stepped close enough that you could smell his cologne again. He raised his hand to trace the bruise forming across your collarbone.

"Walker was searching for me. And you, you put yourself in harm's way to protect me, indirectly as it was. Whatever your reasonings were, I cannot remember the last time someone was willing to show such an act of resilience, of kindness towards me. And for that, I owe you my deepest and most sincere thanks," Zemo clarified to you. It did not go unnoticed the hidden layer of emotion laced in his voice as he spoke to you.

You could have just brushed his comment off with an excuse that Walker was such a pain in the ass, you refused to give him up on the preface you simply wanted to piss him off.

But that would be a lie, mostly.

Instead you grabbed Zemo's hand, the one that was tracing your battle scars from the previous day and lifted it high enough so that you could wrap your right arm lightly around his torso and your left arm around his shoulders and into a hug.

As you snuggled up against him, careful not to disrupt your injuries, you turned your head so that your nose barely touched his jaw and whispered into his ear, "You're welcome."

Unlike the first hug the two of you shared, there were no death grips this time. This hug held so much more. An acceptance of one another. A promise.

Reluctantly, you untangled yourself from Zemo to peer up at him.

His gaze roamed over your face, searching. He brought his hand back up to rub his thumb gently over your cheek.

He had that look on his face again. The one that looked like he was fighting with himself about something. Then you saw his eyes drop to your lips and back up to your eyes.

Oh.

You leaned into his touch ever so slightly. This was probably a very bad idea, and you shouldn't let this continue.

"Zemo," you breathed.

He dropped his head against yours and dragged the tip of his nose down the bridge of yours.

"Helmut. You can call me Helmut," he murmured.

Your hands were flat against his chest and you hesitate lifting your head to close remaining distance between you to kiss him.

"Helmut," you voiced, the soft resonance of your vocals floating through the room.

You saw him shut his eyes, a small twitch of his lips curl in an upward motion before he opened them again.

He must have sensed your hesitation because he drew back, but only enough to get a read on your face.

"I apologize, I shouldn't have -" he started rambling, dropping his head to reprimand himself.

You draw your hands up from his chest to his neck to prevent him from stepping away. You needed to make sure he understood.

"No, Helmut. That's not - this is okay, I just -" you paused, giving yourself a moment to make sure you word what you want to say to him next properly.

"I can see the conflicted look on your face. I just - I would never," you trailed off, gathering some courage, you drew in a deep breath before continuing, "I would never want to put you in a position where you felt that you were disrespecting the memory of your wife."

There. You had said it. Zemo had been through so much and you couldn't let him kiss you if he still felt like he would betray the memories of his family.

Even if it were for one brief and fleeting moment between you two, you couldn't do that to him. And you wanted him to make peace with everything on his terms, and not just for the emotional roller-coaster you're on, whatever it may be that lies between you both.

You felt him stiffen in his stance, clearly not expecting you to say something like that to him.

He looked at you for a few moments before twisting his head to stare out the window. He had dipped his head in contemplation and turned back to you.

You could feel him shutter a few deep breaths and when you met his gaze again there were tears glistening in his eyes.

His mouth opened and closed, but no words had come out. You could see him struggling with what he wanted to say.

"It's okay. You don't owe me any answers right now," you said. You tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Zemo huffed as he blinked back his tears and shook his head.

"Schatz. You truly are a piece of work," he said, a mixture of amusement and awe heard in his voice.

Zemo opened his mouth to say something else, but you heard the entrance to the apartment open and the voices of Sam and Bucky trailing.

You both turned your head to the door in mild alarm. Without much time, as you're sure one of your friends will be making a bee line to check on you, you start to unzip Zemo's hoodie you went to sleep with last night.

Helmut's eyebrows shot into his hairline and his eyes widened in shock at your undressing in front of him.

You give him an outrageous expression, as you carefully remove your injured arm from the garment and then your other, before handing it to him.

He took the garment hesitantly, a look of confusion on his face.

"An excuse as to why you were in my room, as I'm sure they are going to want to know why you're still in here. There's no way one of them won't spot you leaving. At least you'll have a good reason," you explained rapidly, trying to keep your voice from reaching Bucky's ears.

Zemo nodded in agreement at your cleverly crafted plan, and moved to exit the room. He paused at the door and looked back to you. You could tell he wanted to say something before leaving.

Later. You mouthed to him.

He sighed, but you knew he understood this wasn't the right time to have an extended conversation.

You saw him poke his head out the door before ducking back in to give you a mischievous expression.

You narrowed your eyes at his sudden mood change.

He left your room and could hear him faintly walk down the hall. You turned to walk to your in-suite bathroom when you heard a large clatter and shout from Sam.

"Bucky!"

"It wasn't me! you heard Bucky reply.

There was a snicker and then a door closing from not too far away.

"Zemo!" You heard both Sam and Bucky shout this time. Foot steps followed and some banging on the door down the hall. Hushed whispers could be heard after that.

You continued your journey to a nice shower and some pain killers. Yup. Never a dull moment around these guys.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#helmut zemo #tfatws #helmut zemo x reader #my writing

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sophlubbwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Shifting to your arms - 03

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: This is a slice-of-life series where you, the reader successfully shifted realities with the goal to spend time with Loki. Nothing too intense.

A/N: I didn’t have that much time to write this week, but I finally finished editing it (an hour to late, hope you don’t mind).

Feel free to shoot me a request and I'll see what I can do!

Taglist: @gingerspicetalks @adoreyou976

Feedback is always appreciated!

Chapter Summary: A nightly meeting with the god of mischief and an intense discussion after a mission briefing where you finally come clean.

Chapter warnings: slight angst, spiders, Loki being Loki

Word count: 1871

One might think your muscles would get used to the way they are strained by the training with Loki, but your muscles decided to be sore and stay sore. Great way to be woken up.

The sun was nowhere to be seen yet, the dim light entering the window however was alluding to its already anticipated arrival.

Turning around in your bed again, your back felt like it was stabbed – which has woken you up and was almost, what had happened yesterday. The god of mischief figured it would be a great idea to show you, how to defend against an attacker who uses knifes and, of course, he never even considered using dummy-knives.

“I would never do so much as to wound you fatally, mortal.” he had assured you and oddly enough, you had believed him. You had to. Everything the god of lies told you sounded true, albeit might be caused by his velvety voice. Somehow, he had been picking up on the effects it had on you. Ever the observer.

As you struggled to stand up, you let out a heavy groan. For as much as you wanted to just sleep it off, you deemed sleeping as impossible. Not with muscles this stiff and not with how much you usually moved while asleep.

With every step you took your thighs stiffened. Stretching might seem like a good idea, but you already knew it would hurt like hell and quite frankly, you didn't have the energy to try it. You've heard somewhere, magnesium would help with sore muscles and as for now, you were more than eager to test your hypothesis.

Usually stuff like that is kept in the kitchen, right?

The oversized T-shirt you wore instead of a regular pyjama reached just above your knees, concealing not only your body shape but being unbelievably comfortable too. Who in their right mind would be awake in these ungodly early morning hours anyway? Changing clothes now was no use.

While the magnesium tablet was dissolving in a glass of water, you saw a box of cocoa powder just waiting on the top shelf above the stove. It towered there, tauntingly, staring down at you because it knew you weren't able to grab it.

A hot cocoa mix. That's what you needed right now.

Determined, you took a step back and looked at the situation in front of you. There was one rather obvious solution to this:

Climbing.

Your legs were protesting, but you didn't care. You needed that cocoa. Maybe that's the tiredness speaking, but you couldn't live another moment without it. Hot chocolate.

You checked twice that the stove was both turned off and cold, so you wouldn't accidentally burn yourself if you happened to step on it and proceeded to swing a leg on the sideboard. Your shoulders were burning, but you didn't stop as you slowly pushed yourself up. You couldn't let the box win.

Once you managed to balance yourself out and fully straightened up, your eyes were barely below the surface, the box was prominently placed on, but that wasn't an issue. You, unlike the box, had hands, which you would put to use now. Reaching out, you snatched the box and inspected it. After reading all the nifty details from the back of the box, you wondered what the artwork on the front would look like, but you weren't able to look at it.

There was a huge spider, clinging to this side of the box.

Frightened you threw the box away from you and stepped backwards, only to lose your footing on the sideboard. Bracing for impact, you closed your eyes.

But nothing happened.

Confused you slowly opened your eyes back up. There he was, your deus ex machina. His face being mere inches away from your face, the god had hold you in a close embrace to stop you from falling. This in and of itself made it hard enough to keep your composure, but the following conversation only heightened the stakes.

There it was again. That damned voice.

“Oh my, are you falling for me?”

Together with his smirk, this was a deadly combo which short-circuited your brain.

Your thoughts raced faster than you could control them. I have been ever since I first saw you. You wanted to let him know, how you felt.

But you couldn't.

Instead, you opted for a cheeky grin and for the line “you wish”, although in all reality, you were the one wishing. This was torture, being this close to someone you wanted to be even closer with but not being able to be.

What if he would reject you? What if he wouldn't feel comfortable with you being around him any more? What if...

He carefully set you back down on the floor, almost as if he was afraid to break you if he were to drop you too harshly. You were still gazing into each others eyes, lost in the moment and although the spider should have scared you wide awake, this magical moment felt like a dream.

Being lost in his eyes, you stopped taking in anything else but Loki. You didn't notice how soft raindrops were clashing against the windows, you didn't notice how the sun was rising or how bright it had become.

And you most definitely did not notice, how the scary spider was dissolving into green mist.

------------------------

After Tony had laid out your mission, you didn't quite know how to react. You were being sent on a real mission, together with the god of mischief. Just the two of you, only 48 hours left to prepare and your thoughts were racing.

Meanwhile, Loki looked unfazed by the mission, although he shot you a quick look. He knew you were capable of defending yourself and others, but attacking someone else was something different. Whenever you had tried to surprise him with an attack during your training, he had told you how you weren't ready just yet.

You had to think about possible excuses, not to go on this mission. Tell them the truth? You weren't sure how they would handle it. Would they call you an imposter? Imprison you? Besides, a literal god would be fighting right next to you. Everything would be okay.

“You seem rather nervous, my dear. Is everything alright?” The god of chaos averted your attention back to the conversation.

He spoke with the same nonchalant tone he used if someone different than you was within earshot, but if you weren't mistaken, there was a hint of concern hidden behind it this time. Before you could calm him down, the rich kid chimed in.

“Opposed to you, Reindeer Games, our sweet agent here has been on multiple missions similar to this already. It should be smooth sailing, even if you decide to turn on us and abandon both the mission and your partner.”

Oh no.

You saw over to Loki whose smirk was filled with amusement as he was declaring to Tony how he would never betray anyone in his life. He would soon realise something didn't add up. How could you have been on multiple infiltration missions without being able to fight?

At least you didn't have to make an effort and control your thoughts around him any more. Whenever there had been a small thought you weren't able to contain, he didn't seem to notice it, so why try to keep up a facade if no one would even realise it was there?

You left the room while Tony was still trying to threaten Loki out of betraying anyone. Your feet lead you to the gym where you planned on meeting the god of mischief once got bored of talking with Tony and you anticipated it to take five minutes, tops.

After spending some time beating up a punching bag, you heard someone walk in. You didn't have to turn around to know it was him.

“Explain yourself” the voice demanded harshly. He didn't even try to sugar-coat his words, he was disappointed. Probably hurt.

But you couldn't confront him with the truth, could you? You weren't ready, so you feigned innocence.

“What do you mean?”

It was no use. As you turned around and saw him standing there, visibly sad. He knew, although not everything. He knew you lied to him and that was enough to break both his and your hearts.

Loki didn't deserve this.

“You know exactly what I mean.” he looked like he barely kept himself from crying, but his voice was now steady and... cold? Now your heart felt like it was being shattered. “How have you done multiple missions, some of which were solo, despite being barely able to fight? What is the truth, mortal?”

Gone were the pleasantries you were used to, gone were the words 'darling' and 'my dear'. Now you were just called 'mortal', one of many, easily exchangeable to him. You never thought words this small could hurt this bad.

“You wouldn't believe me.”

That was all you could mutter now, the only thought consuming your mind. He wouldn't believe me. The god of lies however insisted he would believe you, provided you told him the truth. This was your last chance to come clear and you both knew that.

“I-” you started insecurely, looking left and right in hopes of finding the right words to use somewhere in the room.

“I am not...”

Your eyes were slowly filling up with tears. This was harder than expected.

“I'm not... from here.”

In a poor attempt to hide your tears you looked down at the floor, but you were sure he saw them since one or two drops managed to fall from your eyes onto the floor.

“Neither do I”

This simple response made you chuckle, what in turn calmed your nerves. You looked up again and your eyes met his. Maybe he would understand.

“I mean... I am not from this reality.”

Silence. Loki didn't ask any questions, but you were sure he had plenty. Who wouldn't?

Fidgeting around with the seams of your shirt, you decided to elaborate a little bit more. “It is... kind of a long story which I feel like I couldn't explain properly, but I managed to shift realities so I can be here.” A heavy weight was dropped from your shoulders as you proceeded to tell him about how life was in your reality and, most importantly, how the Avengers are non-existent.

The last part caught Loki's attention and he thought for a few seconds about it. “So, am I just a mere work of fiction, too?”

You hesitated with your answer and he noticed. Of course he did.

“In... in my reality, yes, but in this reality you are very real.” You gave him an encouraging smile and he nodded understandingly.

“I think therefore I am. So, my dear, why did you... shift realities?”

His prying eyes saw right through you, it was almost as if he already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear you admit it.

“I did it so I could see you, Loki.”

#loki x reader #MCU loki #loki odinson #Loki Laufeyson #loki #x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #shifting to your arms #sophlubbwriting #tom hiddleston #shifting #loki mcu #mcu #mcu imagine #loki fanfic #fanfiction

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years ago

Text

autumn leaves | l.i.b. finale

→ summary: and in the end, we fall because we have no other choice. some get up easier than others, and we bury the ones who never do.

→ pairing: ??? x reader → genre: angst, humor, fluff, lib!au → warnings: tae gets hurt a little but its an accident (he’s fine dw), small blood mention (from aforementioned accident), rage moments (rip lol), heartbreak (yum!), a happy ending (?) → words: 7.7K → a/n: oh my god we’re at the end?? after two months of SUFFERING?? how can this be happening?? lol but seriously thank you to everyone for going on this journey with me. writing lib was honestly so much fun, and it’s been a while since i’ve been able to kinda go “all-out” or whatever. i’m kind of nervous with this ending, but hopefully it’s something everyone will be able to enjoy. peace!!

prev // part 38 of 38 masterlist here. [series completed]

October 1, 2020 — 6:18 PM

Min Yoongi’s phone feels like it's burning a hole into his back pocket. It’s a heavy presence, weighing like concrete enough to bend his spine. His hands itch to reach for it, to check for messages he knows he won’t receive. But in the back of his mind, he thinks—desperately and senselessly, that if he wishes hard enough, then maybe it’ll come true.

I should be glad that she isn’t calling me, he tries to convince himself. The itch continues to grow, licking at the back of his mind like a fire begging to be extinguished. I should trust her decision. I should be proud of her. But there’s always been a difference, after all, to what Yoongi should do and what he wants. It’s a difference that he has fought to ignore for years now.

“Hyung,” a soft voice calls out to him, a hand placed gently on his shoulder. Yoongi blinks slowly out of his trance, his eyes dry from staring out his car window for too long. He doesn’t turn in his seat, refusing to face his companion in the backseat. “Hyung,” the voice calls out again, this time shaking him vigorously enough that Yoongi has no other choice but to turn lest his shoulders get dislocated.

“What do you want, Jimin?” Yoongi growls, sneering at the boy. Jimin smiles sheepishly, but he doesn’t back down under his glare.

“Sorry. You were gripping the wheel so tightly that I was scared you were going to break it.” Jimin shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s an edge to his tone, betraying his worry. Yoongi releases the wheel at once, switching to picking at the rips in his jeans instead.

“Didn’t notice. Sorry for snapping at you, I was just…” Yoongi trails off, expression glazing over once more. What was he trying? What was he doing here?

Jimin’s pupils flit all over Yoongi’s face, searching for something. “We’re not going to bring her home anymore?” he asks, but there’s a note of finality there. He knows that they aren’t going home with them tonight, at least not right now. They’ve been parked a block away from Namjoon’s childhood home for a few hours now, sitting in Yoongi’s car and waiting to see if you needed them to help you escape. Jimin has been watching Yoongi all the while, keeping track of the small changes in his friend’s expression.

They are hard to pinpoint sometimes, but Jimin sees them all. He sees the way Yoongi’s brow furrows slightly, sees the way his teeth nibble on his lips in worry, sees the way his head jerks every time he hears a sound, thinking that it might be his phone about to ring. Yoongi is like a pot about to boil over, hardly keeping everything together.

To many people, Yoongi often appears to be as unmoving as a rock. He hardly allows his emotions to control him, and he has always been proud to call himself a level-headed person. And for the most part, Jimin agrees with that. Yoongi is and always will be someone who thrives in times of turmoil, someone who relies on his wit to get him through adversity. He seldom gets angry, rarely raises his voice, never acts cruelly. He’s the person that everyone in their friend group often comes to for advice and support, as he’s always the one who seems to have the right thing to say.

But all those things begin to crumble, however, when it comes to you.

Yoongi is still human, too. He bends, he breaks, he yields—and he does so, especially for you.

“No, we’re not bringing her home,” Yoongi replies. The admission is there, hidden in plain sight. His words are laced with defeat, but it is a defeat that has been accepted long ago. Long before his text conversation with you.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Jimin asks, not unkindly. Even still, Yoongi winces. Jimin’s real question is there, hidden in plain sight as well. What are you waiting for?

Yoongi sighs, resting his forehead against the wheel. He hears Jimin shift in his seat, feels his presence get closer as he leans forward to place a comforting hand on his back. “Nothing,” he says. He breathes deeply through his nose and counts to three. Releases it. “We are waiting for nothing.”

Jimin hums and says nothing more. They sit there in silence for a bit longer, watching the sun’s final moments in the sky before the moon takes its place. The street lamps turn on, bathing the streets in its dusty yellow luminescence. Under the lights, Yoongi’s skin looks tired and worn, like a paper that has been crumpled and smoothed over multiple times.

“I wonder if they’ve finished speaking by now,” Yoongi says suddenly. He still hasn’t moved from his position, his face hidden from view. It almost looks like he hadn’t spoken at all, but Jimin had heard him. He looks at Yoongi in surprise but keeps his silence. Jimin can feel the beginnings of something about to break, and he is afraid that if he makes a sound, it might stop. Even stones break in the end.

“I doubt it. They have a lot of shit to talk about. Too much, in fact.” Yoongi sounds exhausted, his words slurring together like he’s falling asleep. But he’s never been more wide awake. “I’d have a lot to say if I were them. But I’m not them, nor will I ever be.”

Yoongi tilts his head high enough that he can rest his chin on the wheel instead. He stares blankly at the quiet street, listens intently to the sound of the wind beating gently against his car. Parked out there, in the middle of a small neighborhood in Ilsan, far away from the bustling streets of the city, he can almost trick himself into thinking that he’s the only person in the world—

“You love her.”

—but he isn’t alone.

Jimin says it without a shade of doubt. He says it like it's a simple truth of life, like there is no other possible way Yoongi could feel otherwise. The sky is blue. The earth is round. Min Yoongi is in love with you.

“Yes,” Yoongi breathes it out, the confession tumbling through his lips with quiet ease. It does not struggle; it does not resist. It just is. “I’ve loved her before I even knew it myself, I think.”

“I never thought you’d be the type to fall in love at first sight,” Jimin says it lightly, teasingly. There’s a shrivel of truth to it though, but Yoongi will deny it to his dying day; it’ll hurt less if he does.

“I think it started a year ago. When I was preparing for my junior year exhibition.” Yoongi remembers the long nights working until his hands bled, the recurring nightmares eating at his mind, the fear climbing his spine like a tightrope pulled taut. It’s one of the only times when he had bitten more than he could chew, piling impossible expectations onto himself. In those long three weeks of constant anxiety nipping at his heels, he had almost forgotten what it was like to be human. That is, until…

“She saved me. She taught me to slow down, to be compassionate to myself. She didn’t judge me or scold me or hurt me. She just… cared.” Yoongi exhales, clenching his eyes shut. He can see it in his head: your soft hands carding through his hair, whispering assurances and praise into his ears, guiding him to his bed and staying with him until he’d fallen asleep soundly for the first time in days. “Slowly but surely, I started to fall for her. There was just no other way. My heart refused to have it any other way,” he says.

Jimin hums. “I’d always guessed, but I never thought it was that early. You do have an awful habit of staring, hyung. Sometimes I feel like you have to remind yourself to blink.”

Yoongi laughs, hollow sounding. “I suppose I do.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything about it then?”

Jimin’s question is expected. It should be an easy one to answer, but Yoongi doesn’t quite know what to say. It’s easy to say that he knew Jungkook and you already loved each other long before he realized his feelings, and Yoongi was the last person on earth who would do anything to hurt either of you to fulfill his desires. It’s true, but it’s not the whole truth.

So instead, Yoongi responds, “It’s because I’m a hypocrite.” When he doesn’t elaborate, he sees Jimin give him a confused look from the rearview mirror.

Yoongi chuckles sardonically, shaking his head. His mouth feels like acid, as if bile had risen up his throat. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, but it would hurt more later if he didn’t suck the poison out right here and now. “Nevermind about that. The point is, I lost my chance and I don’t regret it. Yeah, it fucking hurts like a bitch, but what am I going to do? Cry about it? We’ve all known since the beginning that if anyone is going to get a happy ending, it’s certainly not going to be me.”

“Don’t say that,” Jimin says, frowning slightly. He had spoken so sternly that it impelled Yoongi to straighten up in his seat and turn to stare at him. It’s quite unlike Jimin to be anything but friendly and kind, so seeing him so severe is disconcerting. Though, it did manage to shut Yoongi up immediately.

“This is not the end of the world. You are not going to end up unloved or forgotten. There are people who love you, people who will love you. Don’t you remember? Those were the same words you told me when I got my heart broken the first time,” Jimin says, his voice trembling ever so slightly. Yoongi’s gaze flies to Jimin’s fists, clenched tightly by his sides.

Of course, Yoongi remembers. It’s hard to forget the sight of Park Jimin sobbing relentlessly into his shoulder, fat tears falling like raindrops and down his flushed cheeks. He remembers saying the same words to you, too. He wonders, not for the first time, if his words are as ineffective to you as they are to him right now.

“I know,” Yoongi says. He switches the engine on and watches his dashboard light up. The radio turns on, the last notes of a ballad playing through the speakers. Yoongi puts his hand on the wheel, carefully not to grip too tightly this time. It’s a start, he thinks.

They go home, leaving without looking back.

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 9:20 PM

Kim Taehyung locks his bedroom door the moment he gets home, after casting a furtive glance at the closed door across from his. He does not know what he expects; the door across from him has been closed for almost a week now. The entire apartment is still, but he is not alone. The ghost who lives in the other bedroom still haunts him, in more ways than one.

He drops his bag to the floor, still cradling a small bouquet of camellias that was slightly crushed when he had bumped into someone in the elevator. He unpeels the plastic wrapping, gently placing them into the vase near his windowsill. He fingers the vibrant pink petals, but they don’t brighten his room the way they once did. It still feels dark, but he has a sinking suspicion that he had nothing to do with his lights.

It’s me. I’ve changed.

He shakes his head, banishing the thought. No, it’s okay. Everything is fine. You’ve done nothing wrong. And yet, the door across the hall begs to differ.

Typically, this shouldn’t be a problem for him. When everything is said and done, Taehyung is used to this happening. The closed doors, the unopened texts, the cold shoulders. It’s all a process that Taehyung has lived through for years.

Guilt: an emotion that Taehyung has become accustomed to. Abandonment: an action that Taehyung has learned to anticipate. Isolation: a lifestyle that Taehyung has mastered. Every relationship with Kim Taehyung will always lead to these three things, so it shouldn’t be affecting him the way that it is.

But over the last three years, he’d grown comfortable. The people around him had convinced him unknowingly, planting seeds of hope and optimism in a garden he had thought to be infertile. For once in his life, Taehyung had found a home in these people, and he’d do anything in his power to keep it safe.

Or at least, he thought he did.

His original intentions had been guileless; he wanted to help Jungkook because he was his friend. Jungkook had been his first friend in university—if he wanted to be honest, then Taehyung would even say that Jungkook was his first friend in his entire life. The boy was kind-hearted and supportive, wrapped perfectly with a goofy personality. Of course, Taehyung wasn’t blind to Jungkook’s faults, but he was sure that Jungkook didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He had decided back then that he could trust this one, and once he had allowed Jungkook into his life, the rest followed suit.

It was easy to empathize with Jungkook because he was just so… awkward. It was like watching a newborn fawn learning to walk for the first time, except Jungkook had long since outgrown his baby status and should have been independent long ago. Taehyung and everyone knew this about him, but they still gave him the benefit of the doubt. They mentored him, guided him, manipulated him in the wrong ways in hopes of hastening him to change. That was until…

Everything fell apart. Taehyung understood long before the fall that he had played a considerable part in Jungkook’s ruin. His negligence, his willful involvement in worsening the situation had exacerbated everything. He had ignored the signs, had barrelled through with his plans without another thought, all because he allowed himself to be blind to what he truly wanted out of this mess.

If he genuinely wanted to be a friend to Jungkook, he would’ve stopped interfering way before you had gone to Ilsan that one fateful weekend in August. He’d been aware he was doing more harm than good to everyone around him, including himself.

No, he stopped wanting to help Jungkook a long time ago. It had turned into his own personal agenda.

“Fuck!” Taehyung screams into the night sky, slamming his hands against the wall. He grabs the nearby vase, smashing it against the floor and scattering water, petals, and glass across the floor. The impact causes a few shards to imbed themselves into his shin, but he does not mind them, for he does not feel them.

He breathes heavily, gritting his teeth in unspeakable rage. He’s angry, so furious. This red hot searing rage builds up in his body until he starts to feel dizzy, his vision blurred with tinges of black. Why is he mad? Who is he mad at?

Is he mad at Jungkook? Yes, but that isn’t new. He’s been angry at Jungkook for a while now. It frustrates him to no end how lucky Jungkook is without even knowing. How easily love comes to him, how pain and misfortune had never been in his vocabulary until just recently. Jungkook had you, Yoongi, and Jimin for longer than he has. Jungkook has been swaddled in affection since the start but has always been too stupid to see. If he had just stopped being so cowardly, he could have easily gotten the person he loves without anyone’s help.

If he just learned to ask, if he just learned to stop fucking locking his goddamn door—

Just like Taehyung.

They are two sides of the same coin, and it scares him.

This raw, unadulterated rage is not about Jungkook, but himself. It was always about him.

He lets out one last defiant shout at the frigid sky before dropping to his bed in defeat. The fury subsides as quickly as it comes, but it only leaves a desolate landscape inside of him.

He does not know for how long he lies there. When he stands, he leaves bloody footprints in his wake. “Appropriate,” he mutters to himself. He limps over to his door, hobbling to the adjacent bathroom to retrieve a first-aid kit. When he opens the door, Taehyung does not notice the small white box placed in front of his doorway. He nearly trips over it, saving himself by latching onto the wooden frame. He glances down, picking up the box gingerly when he sees a small sticky note tacked on top of it.

If you need help, just knock.

Taehyung looks across the hall. The door is still closed, but the person behind it is not.

His grip on the first-aid kit tightens. The first step is always the hardest.

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 1:03 PM

When you had run the moment you spotted Jungkook, Jung Hoseok had chosen to stay behind. He had pushed Jungkook to go after you, had yelled at him when Jungkook had hesitated for that one split second.

“Go!” he shouted, jolting Jungkook to his senses. He sprinted off, but not before giving Hoseok one last look back. Hoseok put on his bravest smile at him, throwing a thumbs up. “Don’t give up yet!”

Even now, ten minutes later, his throat still feels scratchy from how loud he had been.

He sits by the curb where he had parked his parents’ car. Namjoon sits beside him, a few inches apart. The autumn wind sends chills down his back, the afternoon sun doing its best to keep him warm. Though, he reckons that half the cold is because of the weather.

Hoseok clears his throat at the same moment Namjoon does. They share a glance, the beginnings of a smile playing on their lips. They look back to the ground, avoiding each other once more. Hoseok taps indiscernible beats with his feet while Namjoon draws shapes in the air with his fingers.

Hoseok tries again. “Umm. Namjoon,” he mumbles tentatively. He doesn’t know where to start.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, you know. I’ve known you since before you even learned how to walk.” Namjoon beats him to it, like always. “I can guess what you want to say.”

Hoseok hazards a glance at him. His friend is tanner than he remembers, the summer months having done well on his skin. He almost giggles when he notices the line where the edge of his shirt sleeve meets his bicep, the stark contrast of color evident whenever Namjoon moves his arm. It has been a while since he has seen Namjoon with a tan line, as Hoseok was usually there to remind him to put sunscreen on before leaving the house.

Usually.

Hoseok sobers up, the momentary amusement evaporating just like that. How is it that in only one month, so many things have changed between them?

“What do you think I want to say?” Hoseok responds. He tries to keep his voice level and cool, but he knows that Namjoon notices the small ways in which he falters. Namjoon knows how he rubs his neck when he’s nervous, how his ears get red when he’s embarrassed. He memorizes the exact time it takes for Hoseok’s mouth to downturn, forming into his signature pout.

He knows all these things and more. And yet, how could Namjoon possibly know the traitorous things that he has done?

“I think… you got sidetracked,” Namjoon says slowly, carefully. When Hoseok glances at him again, he finds that Namjoon is looking back. He has a contemplative expression on his face, his jaw clenched in the same way that it does when he’s solving a tough problem. “I think you wanted to help me get together with her, didn’t you? At least, in the beginning.”

“I still do,” Hoseok admits, breaking his gaze once more. He stares up ahead, where the park is bustling with children and their families. He watches a small boy swinging on a swing set, while another boy pushes him higher and higher. “Do you remember?”

“Remember what?”

“When you texted me while you were freaking out over how you were falling in love with her?”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. Of course. How could I forget? I’m still freaking out about it now.”

“I was just… worried about you, you know? I’m always worried about you,” Hoseok says. The boy on the swing set is still going, but one extra strong push from his friend causes him to tumble, landing face-first into the ground. The nearby adults begin to panic, but the boy rises unsteadily, dirt caked onto his scratched up face. But when he faces his friend, he’s smiling and laughing like he has just won the lottery.

“Not an unfounded concern,” Namjoon chuckles, causing Hoseok to put on a small smile. His laughter dies as quickly as it comes. “Was that the time you decided to help me?”

“I’ve wanted to help you since the beginning, but that was the first time I actually did something about it.” Hoseok’s heart is beating a mile a minute, his palms sweaty despite the chilly weather. “I only wanted to find out if Jungkook really liked her or not. I wanted to know if you had a chance before you fell any deeper because I didn't want you to get hurt.”

When Namjoon doesn’t say anything, Hoseok continues. “Even when he admitted that he did love her, I could sense that there was a huge chance things weren’t going to work between them as long as if some things were just… pushed in the right direction.” His voice grows smaller the more and more he speaks, the guilt feeling heavy against his windpipe. But Hoseok is determined to tell him, no matter what happens. It’s the least that Namjoon deserves.

“I suppose, in this case, it would be the wrong direction,” Namjoon hums, but he doesn’t appear angry or upset. Not yet, at least. From the corner of Hoseok’s eye, he sees him nod for him to go on.

“Yeah. I could tell he was insecure, and that insecurity was prone to growing into jealousy,” Hoseok runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots just to give his hands something to do other than to quiver. “I noticed that he shuts down whenever he’s cornered, so that’s what I did. I kept pushing him, forcing him to admit his wrongdoings but never berating him for them. So, in turn, he began relying on me for comfort instead of his friends.”

He keeps going, “I didn’t feel bad for it at first. I kept telling myself, ‘It’s all for Namjoon in the long run.’ But it didn’t take long for me to realize that I couldn’t keep helping you without hurting Jungkook in the process. I was manipulating this poor boy, and I didn’t even know it until it was too late.”

Hoseok waits for Namjoon to react. He can’t bear to look at him, far too ashamed even to consider turning. He’s sure he’ll find disgust in his kind friend’s eyes, and he isn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from running if he saw it. But Namjoon refuses to speak, probably not until Hoseok finishes his piece.

“Jungkook didn’t deserve what I did to him. All the things he did is nothing in comparison to the punishment I inflicted on him, especially when it was never my place to do so. I fed the monster inside of him when he was nothing but a boy who was just scared. Then, just when he still had a shot at redemption, when she was still willing to listen to him, it was also me who ruined everything. I told her about all the bad things he had done. I told her about—”

“The thing about Jungkook paying to spread that rumor,” Namjoon speaks so suddenly that Hoseok nearly chokes in surprise. He had been so quiet that he scarcely even seemed to breathe. “You told her about it, didn’t you?”

“I… Yes, I did. She told you about it?”

“Yeah. She never informed me who told her, but I suppose it makes sense. But there was something else you said, wasn’t there? Something even she wouldn’t tell me.”

Hoseok nods his head sadly. “Yes. I think she was probably more hurt to find out that Jungkook had been ignoring her in favor of hanging out with me. Indirectly, I fed into her jealousy, but instead of comforting her, I intensified her guilt.”

Beside him, Namjoon releases a shaky breath. “You brought me up.”

“Yes.” There’s no use denying it; after all, Hoseok has always been a terrible liar.

“Did you tell her..?” The question hangs heavily in the air, but Namjoon doesn’t have to finish it for Hoseok to understand.

“No, I didn’t tell her you love her. I just mentioned how she was hurting you by loving Jungkook. That’s all. I don’t think she even had the chance to understand what I meant.”

There’s a moment of silence. The two boys sit side by side, looking to all the world like friends just enjoying an autumn afternoon together. The sounds of children singing, of parents chatting, of lovers laughing try their best to fill the space, but the gap is already too big to mend. At least, not immediately.

“Okay.”

Hoseok startles once more, this time managing to gather enough courage to take a peek at Namjoon. He keeps his eyes low, staring at the mole on his chin. “Okay?” he repeats.

Namjoon shrugs half-heartedly. “It’s done. All we can do now is wait, I guess.”

“But… you’re not..?”

“Mad at you? No, I’m not. Am I hurt? Incredibly so.” Namjoon swallows thickly, his chin wobbling as he finds the strength to keep his tears at bay. “But I can tell you found your way back to the light, and I’m more relieved that you realized your mistake more than anything. I forgive you, but just know that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

“That’s already more than I deserve, Joon,” he says shakily. He feels a hand snake around his own, and he looks down to find their fingers laced together. On Namjoon’s wrist, the bracelet he had made for him in the 7th grade is frayed and mangled, but still ever-present. “But… what now? If they truly end up fixing everything, will you be okay with it? If Jungkook is still fighting for her… why aren’t you?”

“Same goes for you, I suppose,” Namjoon says simply. He doesn’t explain what he means by that, but Hoseok is honestly too afraid to ask. He’s always felt like Namjoon knew a little bit too much about things that he shouldn’t. He smiles, but there is a tinge of melancholy there.

Just out of reach, the way Namjoon has always seemed to be.

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 5:12 PM

At first, Jeon Jungkook is surprised to find the park more empty than when he was here a few hours ago. He supposes it is only to be expected, as dinner time is fast approaching and all the families have returned to their homes, preparing for the festivities. In another life, he might have been one of those families, sitting around a table with his brother and parents and eating to his heart’s content. Perhaps he might’ve asked you to join him, just like you had in the past.

He finds you seated on one of the benches near the entrance, kicking away fallen leaves absentmindedly. He takes this moment to observe you from afar, his breath getting caught in his throat when he realizes how long it has been since he last saw you.

His heart aches, the constant heaviness that has made a home in his chest growing tenfold. There are no words to explain the plethora of emotions flying through his head, but all he knows is that at the root of it all, he simply just misses you.

You hear him approach him before you see him. When he looks at you, Jungkook doesn’t know how you’re feeling. He used to be so good at anticipating your mood, always the first one to sense when you were upset or annoyed. Now, you just looked… blank, and for some reason, that hurts to see more than if you had been angry.

Jungkook stops right in front of you, his black boots crunching on dead leaves. You motion for him to take a seat beside you, patting the bench lightly.

“Hi. It’s been a while,” you say softly. You aren’t looking at him, and your hair obstructs him from viewing your face.

“Hello,” he replies, feeling dumb. He can’t think of anything better to say, all the things he had prepared in his mind suddenly blown away with the wind. The sight of you alone makes his mouth go dry, his hands to grow cold and clammy. He realizes, not for the first time, how terribly out of his depth he is.

“This has certainly been a long time coming, hasn’t it?”

“It has been,” he agrees. “It’s almost laughable how long it’s taken us to get to this moment.”

You bark out a laugh, the hoarse sound ringing in the air. “Laughable is certainly one way to put it, I guess.”

“Then why did you ignore me for so long? Why did you suddenly shut me out when you told me you wanted to talk? What happened?” He speaks without meaning to, the words flying out of his mouth before he can think of stopping. If his sudden inquiry startles you, you don’t show it.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You shrug, pushing back some of your hair behind your ear. He can see the slope of your nose, the outline of your lips, the shape of your eyes. He memorizes all these things about you, sees you in his dreams and nightmares, but nothing can ever beat real life.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a start: two words heavy with meaning. What does he apologize for first? The rumors? The jealousy? The betrayal? It wouldn’t matter which one he chooses to tackle first because he already knows sorry isn’t going to cut it, but he has to try at least. This isn’t really about him anymore or about asking for forgiveness. You deserve to know everything he’s done—if you wanted to know, that is.

You blink rapidly, but your eyes are dry. “I know.”

“You don’t have to forgive me.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to trust me.”

“I don’t,” you say, and it hurts the both of you when you do. Jungkook feels his insides clench, feels his heart collapse in his chest. “I don’t trust you, Jungkook,” you repeat.

“I…” Jungkook has to take a few shuddering breaths, his vision going blurry as he tries to keep it together. He waits for the pain to ebb, but it flows like a river down his veins. “I hurt you a lot. It’s only right that you don’t trust me.”

“I have a lot of regrets,” you say, sniffling. You still aren’t crying, but your nose is red from the cold. He wonders how long you had sat here waiting for him to arrive. How long have you been waiting for him in general?

“I have a lot of those, too,” he says. “I regret being unfair to you. For keeping people away from getting close to you, like a property meant to be hidden away. I tried to steal you for myself, but that’s not a very good thought, is it? I shouldn’t have thought that you were a thing to be kept. You should have been someone I treasured.”

“Then why didn’t you treasure me?” The question echoes loudly in Jungkook’s ears, as it’s the very same question that has weighed in his mind the moment he started to wonder where he’d gone wrong. Why hadn’t he loved you the way that he should have?

“Because I abused your love for me, even when I wasn’t aware of it,” he says plainly. He has known the answer for a while now but refused to accept it until this moment. It feels like a cork inside of him has burst, releasing all the foul, wretched things inside of him and out into the open. And once they start tumbling out, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop.

“I think we both knew we loved each other for as long as we can remember. We skirted around each other because we were scared of change, of losing the friendship we had built over the years. We purposefully ignored each other’s feelings and brushed off our friends’ attempts to help us realize something we already knew.”

“We did,” you say. “That was both our faults.”

“But I was never good at bottling up my feelings. It was only a matter of time before the love I had for you began to grow claws and fangs, and somehow along the way,” he pauses, a breath of sorrowful laughter escaping him, “I had gotten lost.”

Your expression morphs then, shifting from pain, to grief, to acceptance. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Your eyes look glazed over, like your mind is somewhere else. When you come back down, you already have another question for him. “Why didn’t you ever ask me out?”

He should just say something else, but he can’t help but wonder—”Why didn’t you?”

“I tried—a couple of times. You never noticed they were dates,” you shrug. A leaf from one of the nearby trees gets caught in your hair, and Jungkook reflexively plucks it out. You both freeze when his fingers graze your nape, gazes locking with one another. He jerks his hand back, but doesn’t look away—doesn’t dare to.

(It might be his last chance.)

“I’m sorry for being dense. For resorting to buying rumors so that I could pretend to date you when I could have asked for the real thing. I’m sorry for setting you up with… Namjoon,” he hesitates on his name, and you notice. “It must have confused you greatly, only worsening the doubt you must’ve had for me.”

“It did.” The corners of your eyes look wetter than before, tears dangerously close to the surface. “When I asked you if I should go to Ilsan the first time... You told me to go, even though everyone told me you were jealous of Namjoon. I was starting to believe them, hoping that maybe it was a sign that everything before then had just been a misunderstanding. But that was all you, wasn’t it? Why didn’t you tell me to stay?”

“It was a mistake,” he mutters. He shakes his head at the memory: a frequent recurring nightmare of his as he is forced to remember the moment everything had started to go downhill. “I had realized I was being a jealous asshole far too late, and I was trying to clear my own conscience. I thought that… if I let you go, then you’d think better of me. That I might be absolved of my sins if I took your trip as my penance. I didn’t think you were trying to see if I would stop you,” he explains, but it sounds like an excuse even to his ears.

You sit together, watching the sun begin to set, bathing the world in its orange hues. Jungkook feels empty, wrung out like a towel left to dry. The wounds inside him ache and throb, but he knows they won’t last. As surely as the sun will rise, he will also relearn to feel whole again—even if it means you won’t be there to see it.

“I waited for so long, Koo.” You shake your head, allowing a few traitorous tears to fall. You let out a watery laugh. “ I waited for this moment for so long, but I never imagined it would be like this.”

Jungkook studies his hands. He desperately wants to hold you one more time, but the ship has already sailed. “We’ve already sailed past each other a long time ago.”

You nod your head sadly. “We have.”

“Is it bad that I wish that we hadn’t?” he whispers, but he doesn’t really expect a response from you. He rubs his face, covertly trying to wipe his tears away. “I guess there’s a reason why you called me number two, huh?”

You can’t even force out a laugh. You sob unabashedly, cupping your face in your hands. This is the end.

This is the end of a great long adventure between you and him—the time for your roads to diverge closes in, like a shadow looming over their heads.

Jungkook wraps you in an embrace for the last time. You shake like a leaf in his arms, clutching at his chest like you don’t want to let go. He drinks you in, tries to commit everything about you to his memory. “Thank you for loving me, even if it didn’t work out. Thank you for being my first love.”

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 7:07 PM

Kim Namjoon opens the door to his childhood home the moment he hears footsteps climbing up the stairs. He’d done so numerous times already, spooking one or two of his neighbors at his sudden appearance. This time, however, he finds the person he had been waiting for.

“Oh, Y/N. Thank god,” he sighs in relief when he sees you, rushing out the door just as you finish taking the last stairstep. You wobble in surprise when you notice him, nearly falling over with a scream before he catches you by the waist to keep you steady. He pulls you close, pressing your face gently into his chest.

“I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so sorry for bringing you to Ilsan even though Yoongi told us not to go. I’m sorry for not telling you that I knew Jungkook and Hoseok were coming here, too. I’m so sorry for—”

“Namjoon,” you try to interrupt him, but he keeps going.

“—wanting you and Jungkook to reconcile even if you didn’t want you to leave me. You just looked so sad all the time, and I knew you needed to speak to him at least one more time so that you could find closure, but I should have asked you first like a decent person—”

“Namjoon,” you repeat. Namjoon pauses long enough to see that our eyes are red-rimmed from crying, further increasing the panic rising in his body.

“Oh god, I didn’t want you to be sadder! I just… God! I just wanted to help you for once, because you always helped me with everything. I know you deserve to make your own decisions, to be your own person, but I ignored that in favor of following my stupid gut—”

“Joonie, the neighbors can hear you,” you hiss, furtively glancing at the doors opening around them. You can feel many eyes on you, watching curiously at the red-faced idiot babbling like a man possessed. You motion for him to stop, but he’s too caught up in the moment.

“For a while, I thought I could stop myself from falling in love with you, but it was so hard! You have to understand how impossible it is not to love you. Believe me, I tried!” Namjoon all but shouts the last part out, shaking you by the shoulders. “I don’t deserve you! I’m just not a good boyfriend! I’m insecure to a fault, I’m boring, I have mild sleep apnea, I forget to throw out the empty milk cartons—”

You yelp as he continues to shake you, gently having to pry his hands off of you to save yourself from being shaken like a bobblehead. “Joonie,” you say, firmer this time.

He rambles and rambles and rambles. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, hands gesticulating wildly like a human helicopter. He’s so wrapped up in his monologue that he doesn’t realize immediately when you take his hands in yours, forcing him to keep still.

“Joonie.”

“—and I’ve never been able to hold a relationship for longer than two months! My past girlfriend even left me after cheating on me the entire time—”

“Joonie.”

“I’ve never been good at being vulnerable and being myself, but you somehow managed to make me feel like I was worth something. You made me feel so so so incredibly loved. You made me feel important!”

“Kim Namjoon!” You shout, finally losing your temper and flicking him on the forehead. That finally manages to stop him, his eyes going cross-eyed like a cartoon character. You could almost see the flying stars orbiting his head. Properly silenced now, you push him back into his apartment, kicking the door with your foot before locking it for good measure.

When you turn back to face him, he’s still frozen where you left him. He stands in the middle of his living room like a robot, his mouth slightly agape as if his wires had been fried. Rolling your eyes goodnaturedly, you pull him to the couch, gently guiding him so that he doesn’t accidentally fall on his ass as he continues to short circuit in front of you. It takes him another whole minute to get his bearings together, but you’re a patient person. You sit in the adjacent armchair and wait for him to speak.

“Oh my god.” He swallows awkwardly, the color draining from his face. “What the hell did I do?”

“Welcome back to earth,” you smile, waving a hand in front of him. “Did you miss me?”

“I always miss you.” It seems as though Namjoon’s weird candor spell is still in effect. He has the presence of mind to be embarrassed this time, however, and you watch amusedly as his cheeks begin to redden. “I, umm…”

“Gave quite a show out there. I didn’t know you could rap,” you tease, your mouth curling up into a smile. The muscles in your cheeks feel sore, almost as if it has been ages since you last used them. This morning feels like it had happened eons ago.

“Sorry. I just… had a lot to say,” he replies lamely. He hangs his head, embarrassed to look you in the eye. “So… I’m guessing you spoke to Jungkook?”

He hears you hum in agreement, but you don’t say anything on the matter. Namjoon has never been one to pry, but his overactive brain can’t help but make connections out of nothing, trying to make sense of the world in desperation.

“I’m guessing you’re here to reject me, right? I’m sorry for confessing to you all of a sudden when you’re already spoken for. It was unfair of me, and you don’t need to try and spare my feelings at all. I’ve been prepared for this since August,” he speaks rapidly, nearly losing his breath in his haste. “It was my fault for thinking we could have happened. I mistook your kindness for reciprocation when I should have known better—”

“Joonie, my love. You’re rambling again.” Your voice snaps him back to reality. He turns redder somehow, sinking deep into his seat.

“S-sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you huff, pouting in annoyance, but Namjoon catches the fondness in your eyes. “You aren’t unfair at all.”

“E-even so,” he stutters, heart hammering in his chest. “I shouldn’t have expected anything to happen between us. We were only going to fake date until the end of Chuseok, so it was foolish of me to try and… replace Jungkook, somehow. But I suppose, in the grand scheme of things… he’s a tough act to follow up to, huh? Seven years of loving someone is a long time. I don’t hold a candle to that,” he says dejectedly.

“But you do.” The words slip out before you can stop them. Your eyes widen, shocked by your own admission. Even so, you know what you said is true, and you wouldn’t take it back even if you could.

For a moment, you think he doesn’t hear it when he doesn’t react. It takes a second for his brain to buffer, but Namjoon had heard you, loud and clear.

“What do you mean?” His tone is soft, hesitant. Afraid, but hopeful.

You shrug your shoulders. You want to tell him everything, but you are impossibly tired, your eyelids like sandbags just waiting to fall. Namjoon must have noticed because he stumbles out of his seat with his arms outstretched, ready to keep you from slumping over.

“Woah, there. I’m sorry for interrogating when you must be exhausted. Do you want to take my bed instead of the couch tonight?” he asks, kneeling in front of you.

You blink sleepily at him, nodding with a large yawn. “I wanna talk to you but I’m tired,” you say, before promptly toppling onto him. He doesn’t flinch at your weight, catching you in an instant. He lets you nestle your face into his neck, and he grabs your arms until they’re laced around his shoulders. Slowly, he gets up with you in his arms, a feeling of weightlessness filling your senses. Safe.

When he tucks you into his bed, the sheets smell familiar and homey. Namjoon sits by the edge, brushing a few strands of hair away from your forehead. “Namjoon?” Your voice sounds muted to your own ears, as if you were underwater. But you don’t feel like you’re drowning, not at all.

“Yes?” He watches you with kind eyes, the same ones he has always had. To you, he looks like a prayer come to life, a promise ready to be fulfilled.

“You’ll be here? When I wake up?”

Namjoon exhales out a laugh, smiling sweetly. I love your dimples, you want to say, but your body feels heavy. Tomorrow. You’ll tell him for sure.

“Yes, Y/N. I’ll always be here. For as long as you want.”

You close your eyes. Tomorrow.

It’s a promise.

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