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werezmastarbucks · 1 day ago

Text

of those who found out

in which yoongi protects you

fluff, hurt/comfort

yoongi x nonKorean!f!reader x established relationship, husband!yoongi, protective!yoongi

word count: 5439

warnings / tags: violence, bodily harm, wound description, parasocial, mentions of hypothetic suicide, angry yoongi / angry jungkook, fuckboy jungkook, street fighting, married members

Newly married. When Yoongi told you he managed to claw not two, not three weeks for the honeymoon, but four, you spun about the room. The world tour after the reunion has been all kinds of unexpected, gruelling and exciting, and lonely, for an inexperienced you. Now, you got to marry the person you loved, and not have to share him with the rest of the world, for a full month. Osaka is unusually fresh and beautiful in early April: cherries in full bloom, blue skies, mild wind. And your dream boy would be with you this whole time; as you watched his preoccupied face, frowned by the pressures of his work, his second life, the need to pretend, the need to smile, change to relaxation; the weather outside the plane window changed as well. Osaka had the special kind of blue in its sky, the almost dream-like color, as if you weren't really there. Every time you happened in that city, it always seemed like you layered into parts and not all of you was present, but in a good way. People in Osaka didn't care about faces; Yoongi would always drop his shoulders comfortably, making his wide and tough frame a little softer. He didn't wear a mask in Osaka, and didn't pull his cap so far down that he couldn't see where he was going. Seeing him become nonchalant like that, looking around instead of straight ahead and down, swing his arms as he walked, and swing his head to look at buildings and trees; it was just happy. Your left hand was pleasantly and unusually heavy with the new ring; you would raise your palm against the bright sky to look how the sun sneaks in between your middle and ring finger; and catch Yoongi looking at you. You knew intuitively, as it always happens when you feel on top of the world, that it would only get better and better with time. As if nothing bad can ever happen to such people as you: young and happy and so strong. Whatever parts of him weren't healed yet, he was now at least okay with them, and was learning to embrace them. He wasn't screaming in his songs anymore. His voice acquired the soft murmur again. He smiled so much nowadays, showing his small delicate teeth, as if he finally learnt to click and switch, from Suga to Yoongi, and back again.

"You always looked kinda Tokyo to me", you noted, studying his face. Yoongi's eyes were narrowed as he watched the streets slowing down behind the window of the train.

"Shin-Imamiya", he hummed, as if he didn't hear you at first, seconds before the soft faceless voice announced the station. Yoongi's hand squeezed yours, and you ouched out of habit; he couldn't get used to the rings, either. Was accustomed to holding your hand very tightly, pushing the engagement ring with briar rose gemstone into your nearby fingers. His hold loosened immediately.

"Sorry", you got off the train, and your head snapped to look around at the unconventional urbanistic rundown architecture around.

"Japanese, huh?"

"About twelve per cent Japanese".

"People usually tell me, once I hit thirty, I started looking like a Chinese crook from a nineties movie", he confessed, with just not enough indifference.

"You would love to be one, huh?" you grinned. You could see it, too, now. Your thought adjusted. His high cheekbones and sharp, unforgiving slant of the eyes, and without makeup to smooth his face, he did look like he was capable of bad things. Yoongi nodded, quite content. He led you through the pedestrian tunnel into the wide sleepy street, with tall, dishevelled buildings, pieces of clothes hanging warily from the balconies, bright grey shining in the spring sun. In this weather, even the less attractive districts looked rather like locations from a video game, with its special greenpunk charm. Yoongi's short black hair moved lazily in the light wind; he cut his royal mane right after the wedding, elated like a puppy who caused mischied and knew about it. He did leave two wavy strands to frame his face though. Both you and his mother were glad.

You walked down the street looking at people living his life; someone adjusting a flower pot on their balcony, or thrashing a sheet furiously; some voices flew down from the top floors as the tall houses grew and grew on above your heads. Some kids left the building, hands in their jean pockets, caps, chains on their thighs. Yoongi checked the map on his phone:

"To the left at the end of the street".

He clocked them first; but you didn't even notice. The years living in safe Seoul all but killed your spacial awareness skills; and as far as you knew, Japan was even safer. Crime rates low on the ground, you always hopped like a butterfly on the Kyoto streets even when you were alone. So now, as you heard a whistle coming from one of the entrances, you attributed it to some internal conversation among a group of people.

"Oh, no way", Yoongi grumbled, and you finally paid attention. He was looking at the group of young people huddled together in between two broken up flower beds in front of the building. Your natural instinct finally kicked in: three men of moderate height but sick built. Wide shoulders, thick legs, they looked like people who were looking for trouble.

"It's not even evening", you mumbled, frustrated. Yoongi couldn't break the lock with them as he watched the group that gestured something towards you.

"Tourists?" you heard. One guy motioned his hand. The other two started babbling something in Japanese assuming Yoongi would understand them. One of the guys was looking at you the way drunk Itaewon men usually did. You pushed against his body but tried not to show your growing anxiety.

"Don't fuss", he advised, his fingers caressing the back of your palm reassuringly. Amidst the conversation the three peace breakers engaged in, you could make out something like 'pretty boy'. Sure your boy was pretty. But, as they set off from the flower beds and started cutting your way across the street, he also got angrier.

The thing about Yoongi was, he was like a battery that liked to snap. His large storage could contain a lot of annoyance, a lot of disrespect and exhaustion, but when the time and space was up, someone who tipped his peace at last would always get a handful. Yoongi used this internal fuel well in his work. Hooding his eyes, dangerous stare from behind the long locks falling onto his face, he would slouch his shoulders in a way that made him look much, much bigger than he really was. Perhaps he learnt this method from cats: the small, clawed and unpredictable carnivores that were unhinged enough to scare away bears. Yoongi was that kind of a person. You have never been scared when you were with him; it's the raging optimism of knowing that your fiancé, now husband, was ready to throw hands at anyone which could easily be read on his face. The years of neglect, condescending nods and underestimation helped him be spared of fear of bodily harm. You noticed this weird feature with every one of his six brothers, too. They were successful and beautiful, and still, they were desperate to prove themselves.

You tugged on his hand when Yoongi tensed towards the three people stopping you in your tracks. A short exchange in Japanese sounded hostile to you. You were half-through with your Korean, the language occupying all your attention, so you haven't thought of starting Japanese yet. Yoongi knew just enough of it to be able to tell people to fuck off.

The tallest, buff guy, undoubtedly, the leader of this pathetic, bored pack, stepped from side to side, and pointed his finger at you. Yoongi's left arm which was attached to you, pushed you slightly, and you read the cue to step back. The blank faces in front of you. Nothing behind the eyes, just sheer boredom of the Saturday afternoon. Someone yelled in Japanese from the above balcony, perhaps calling their nineteen-year old jobless son to leave tourists alone. He paid no attention. You felt your heart pumping blood in your chest. There's three of them after all, and this is not a dream anymore. You looked at their arms and shoulders; one, buff, the other kind of in the middle, and the third was totally thin, but still a fighting force. Yoongi said something, a bit louder, and you realized that your husband was crazy. His face was his asset, and it couldn't be broken. Instead of acting timid and saying you don't need trouble, he was stepping up and grilling them. You clutched his hand, poking him with your nails, but he didn't feel it at all.

The fallout was very quick. With that hand, he pushed you away, making you stumble a little, while with the other, he already aimed for the nose. From four steps away, you watched as his hair shone in the bright April sun; Yoongi ducked and punched the buff guy in the throat. The leader's friend stepped up to him from the side, grabbing his shoulder, and he kicked. Bam! It was over. One boy on the ground, the second, swaying in hesitation, the third decided to run. Yoongi turned around, his face relaxing as if he didn't just reenact his nineties movie dream, and grabbed your hand.

"We should get through another station", he panted, a little bit happy. You ran together, hand in hand, and by the end of the street, the fright was leaving your mouth in the form of breathless giggle.

Jungkook just had too much energy. The boy never ran out of it. He could do a two and a half hour concert and then go clubbing because the performance didn't drain him; on the opposite, it energized him. Seeing all these people, bouncing with them, dancing in synch, being in the spotlight - he was a natural. Where Jimin fainted after every fourth show, and Yoongi became unnaturally grumpy after outpouring all his might into it, Jin, retreating into the hotel room to ron in bed, Jungook would beam brighter than the sun. During the training, he was the one who would do twice as much as needed, straining his body to the extreme maximum, only to outperform himself every time. His mind wandered in all directions and his body moved, like he was a shark. He had love for everyone. He loved his members to death, and yet he loved to babble away, sometimes not listening to himself and what he's saying. He loved the crowds, his fans, and people around, and yet basked in their reciprocated love so self-indulgingly sometimes that it seemed like he thought he was the only one in the world. Jungkook loved the love, and he loved women, and it was obvious he needed them, because they were beautiful, and he was handsome, and young, and always needed to release his energy somewhere, or he would burst like a blood bubble. He was the golden maknae, everybody's favorite, and more often than not, he got away with things that weren't allowed for the others.

During the tour, the standard procedure was thus: in the morning, everybody got up almost always hungover and with wrinkled faces, Jin, usually with insane bed hair, and slowly set off for the airport. There, on the apron, you would all wait, the members and the team, while the crew was loading the luggage onto the plane. You all usually preferred to wait outside because the air was fresher, and most of you were afraid of flying.

You'd normally be enveloped around Yoongi as the flights were undertaken at ungodly hours. Wrapped in a hoodie, in the tight circle of his arms (he would actually lean onto you like onto a huge pillow and try to sleep upright for a minute), in the wicked wind, you peeked out and saw Jungkook's girl doing the same as you. She'd look better, dolled up even at seven or six am, with nice hair. They'd murmur to each other or kiss quietly. Almost every other city the girl would be new. You stopped the efforts to memorize the names when you realized Jungkook wasn't serious about it. Of course, there's beauty in consensual, situational one-night stands; he'd pick up a pretty and lively girl at a bar after the show and pull her along for a couple of days, sometimes she'd even fly to another city with the band. That's how he recharged. He was an adult now, and you caught it in the way Namjoon and Jin looked at him. They still couldn't believe he had slipped through their fingers, all the while being proud of their MVP Jungkook. They always let him be, and the others did, too. You had fun hanging out with his girlfriends while on tour as you soon got too anxious attending every show every other night. While they performed in a new city, you'd stay in a hotel and play boardgames, drink, or even wander around the city with the girl. Most of them were actually amazing. Always very beautiful, funny, effortlessly perfect with their appearance, and easy going. Of course, there were no conversations about 'our boys'. Jungkook belonged to everyone, he belonged to no one. And most of the girls understood that.

Parasocial was dangerous. It's a good thing that you, like your batshit husband, could put up a fight.

One of the girls, Laura, or Lara, was more complicated to get along with. Simply speaking, she wasn't interested in anything apart from Jungkook, and wouldn't leave him alone. The middle of the tour, you already forgot where he picked her up, and how long ago. Was it France? No, that one was Marie, and she got off in Rome. Then that was the next one, but she didn't speak Italian. You remembered because you tried to get her to teach you the hand gestures. She frankly paid no attention to you at all which was an okay break. You've been a little under the weather all week, and was happy to spend a quiet day at a hotel while everybody worked their backs off.

You were trying to figure out what time it was after the sharp knock dragged you out of a nap. The movie was still on the TV which showed you hadn't slept much. Swaying a little bit, you hiccuped once and looked into the peephole. Laura. You were under the impression she went to see the tonight's show, but okay. You opened the door and noticed she looked a little worn out, her face puffy from crying. Something dawned on you unpleasantly: they probably had had a fight. And her time was almost up.

"Y/N", she whined, letting herself into your room. There was no contiunation, so you closed the door and tried to assess her condition.

"How are you?"

"I think I love him", she slurred. Drunk. Crying and drinking and not attending the show.

"Why aren't you at the arena? I thought you wanted to see the concert", you offered. Laura shook her head and then ran the fingers of her right hand through the lush curly hair. She sniffed. She was a full mess. You were considering filling her a bath.

"He just doesn't take it seriously. Tell me the truth, Y/N, you think it's not serious? I asked him about what after the tour, and", she was messing up her words, "he just smiled at me and changed the subject, you know how it is..." her mouth formed a painful O and her eyes pierced you. Suddenly, Laura was angry for no reason. Well, there was a reason. Jungkook fucked up and took in a girl who was in love with him. In love panicking, desperate.

"He told me not to think about the future", she whispered. You just stood there, unmoving, not sure what to say. "But the thing is, he is my future. I need him".

"I think..." you faltered, "you should really talk about it with him, and not let him off the hook until he lets you know..."

"I already know!" she yelled. In the silence between, a character yelled from the TV. There it was, the cue to leave. As her eyes grew in size, beautiful green, but a little mad right now, you realized she was breaking down. You wanted to give her a hug, but instead, Laura shook and raised her other hand that you hadn't seen previously. It was conveniently behind her back and you failed to pay attention. There was no chance you could expect her holding a razor.

"I said, he is my future", she pressed. You quickly went from compassionate to annoyed.

"Give me that", you ordered. You were older. And was already used to the convenient Korean tradition of younger people doing what they're told. But she was European, drunk, and didn't give a shit. Your outstretched hand with the palm open was almost closing on the sharp elongated blade. Where did she even get a dangerous razor. On a private jet, you can bring all kind of shit with you nowadays.

"Laura, give me the razor. You're not killing yourself over Jungkook", you felt comical saying that. Laura's eyes went completely round.

"I am Lauren", she hissed, totally offended. "You don't even know my fucking name".

She probably wanted to throw her hands up, like, nobody here thinks anything of me! kind of way. But, several glasses of Jungkook's fine whiskey from the mini bar affecting her, she must have fogotten she's holding a sharp razor in her hand. God know what she was intending to do with that; probably practice threatening suicide so that you could tell her if the peformance was convincing enough. Now the weapon of the naive was slashing your forearm which you put out instinctively in front of your face. Sharp pain downed the yelp inside of you as the rage kicked in. You straightened the arm which was yet to be engulfed in burning ache, and threw a fist towards her face. Lauren produced a gentle 'ah!' and stumbled back, but stayed on her feet. Hissing with the coming sensation, you knew that you had to disarm her before you collapse. Bright narrow stream of your blood was flying as you moved your arm. The hotel room spun due to adrenaline shaking you completely awake. You stepped to Lauren carefully, trying not to give her time to undestand what's happening, and grabbed her hand with the razor.

"Let go!" you yelled. You had to bash her palm onto the wall to make her sturdy fingers uncurl, and, as the weapon fell on the carpet with a thud, you slapped her across the face again. Then, took her by the neck, making her bow and walk. Lauren was bawling. You opened the door, already moaning with pain, and screamed into the corridor:

"Help, please!"

Jungkook's rabbit eyes were staring into the designated spot on the tip of Jin's shoe. He always had this astounded look when he was uncomfortable; a natural manipulative trick which made him look like an adorable owl baby, making you want to protect him. One gaze at this face, his jaws clenched, the rings in his lower lip giving him the doll shine, eyes transfixed, and you already forgave him. You weren't mad anymore, but you were, indeed, in pain. The razor cut the exact spot on your arm which you offered; the amount of skin and fat there covering the bone was laughable, so it cut until it got stuck on that. As the medics were wrapping up the arm, you could actually see your own bone which you didn't think you'd ever get to. The pain was phenomenal: going into the wrist, to the tips of fingers, and up, until the very neck, at first you worried that you were somehow mortally wounded. But no, it was just how it was: deep cut.

Yoongi was livid. Jungkook was terrified, and yet, his pride wouldn't let him budge in front of everyone. You all grouped into logical units. Yoongi stood with his back to the door, making it impossible for the youngest to escape. Behind him, Namjoon and Jin paced and nibbled on their fingers. You were propped against the wall on the side, head low as if you were the one who fucked up. Jimin, the pacifier, was at your side, his silent support making you not feel alone. While you just needed Suga to take off his stage clothes and comfort you, he was busy fuming at Jungkook, seemingly releasing the built-up annoyance with his affairs. Taehyung and Hoseok were judging silently on Jungkook's side; nobody wanted to join, scared that Yoongi will blow up and start screaming.

You could understand about 70% of what they were saying already. Yoongi was scolding Jungkook for being reckless, and interrogating him about the girl. Jungkook was replying that no, he had no idea she'd be so broken up about the casualty of the relationship. Yoongi was being sarcastic, calling Jungkook to admit it was stupid to begin with, to expect that a new girl every fourth night would cause no drama sooner or later. Then he dragged you into this, pointing his finger at you, saying something like,

"And now Y/N is hurt, someone who is actually supposed to stay".

You checked the wedding band on your finger. That was correct. Jimin sighed. He was anxious about the moment when the management barges into here, with penalties, insults and things to say. They all knew they had to sort this out quickly, and then reform and protect Jungkook together, no matter what each of them thinks.

Jin said something quietly, and Yoongi started speaking so quickly that finally you stopped understanding. His finger pointing accusingly at Jungkook who seemed to grow, hurt by the resentment his ever protecting hyung was now directing. He chewed on his rings, eyes targeting Yoongi, his brow lowering. Soon, it was an exchange. Don't you think you are being a little too dramatic about this? Is there anything deeper that you want to tell me?

Yes, I wanna tell you that your fuckery now led to my wife being slashed to the bone by your psychotic one night stand, you're behaving like a baby, you're losing your caution and act with no regard for people around you, and so on, and on, like an old man scolding a youngster at a fish market for shoplifting. You were breathing heavily because it was hard; you craved a painkiller of some sort, and only Jimin noticed. But he was quiet, frightened of getting in the middle of it. Taehyung rolled his eyes and covered his face with his hands. Hoseok seemed struck on the head, his eyes resting on the carpet. Everybody was hesitant to look at you, as if you could shout at them, as if it was their collective fault. The blood on the carpet was washed out by the time they returned after the show, and even the medics left; Lauren was locked up in Jungkook's room with the hotel staff, and this overdue outburst was tiring.

But of course there was something warm about Yoongi not being able to shut up about this. He's never seen you wounded like this and was probably in shock. Thought of what could've happened if you failed to outpower her. Pictured coming to the hotel to find your body with throat slashed. All due to this unhappy coincidence, because of Jungkook's carelessness. He was wiser and more paranoid naturally, he knew how small things led to big tragedies. He was the one stopping at the intersection for a fraction of a second only to then be chewed by the wheels of a car. He was scared.

What if she stayed in the room and waited for you? With the razor? What if she killed you while you slept? What if she killed herself in your room?

Namjoon winced painfully, trying to stop him from spinning this further and further. He tried to intervene by saying:

"It's generally not a good idea to date so many girls all the time".

You noted how rough he formulated this, trying not to sound too judgemental, but to express the firm desire to ban groupies.

"Not my fault Yoongi managed to only pull one", Jungkook spat, still looking like he was about to faint, like he was surrounded by wolves, and not by friends. Your brows flew up, as Jimin facepalmed, while Yoongi would've jumped him across the room. Would have, but the older ones caught him by the shoulders, visibly having been prepared for something like that.

"Aahh", Hobi added, sounding like he was being tortured.

The room was jumping in your vision field as pain quickly drained you of energy. You managed to see Taehyung push Jungkook in the shoulder, distraught.

"Don't listen to him", Jimin mumbled, "sometimes he says things just to say something".

"I am also married, so what are you gonna say to me?" Taehyung demanded. You loudly moaned with pain in order to pull the teeth from this fight. It worked. Yoongi deflated immediately, his eyes snapping to you, and before you knew it, you were in his arms. His breathing was in his chest, still agitated, and he led you out of the quietened room. You managed to steal one last look at Jungkook who looked like the sweet baby he was; you couldn't fight the maternal instinct this twenty-nine year old guy awoke in you. He was seemingly about to cry.

"It's been three hours, right?" Yoongi was preoccupied. His lips were pressed together firmly even when he was speaking. His face was very pale, and you, dizzy with pain, almost drunk-like, touched it to see if he still had makeup on. This gesture, taken by Yoongi as a distress sign, made him look at you intently. And you knew you loved his eyes and everything about him; when he was fussy and angry like this, as well. Simply because he was never angry with you. It was abnormal; he tended to always put you on a special place and act like a rabid dog if someone crossed you, even if it was in his imagination. You could never make him angry, and you tried. But he was too collected for that, only allowing himself to crumble on the moments like this. He had a good outlet for emotions in the shape of music. That was his sewage drain.

"You okay? We need to change the band, right? The doctors told me to change this every three hours".

You winced, expecting immense pain again. The wound just barely seized torturing you just now, when you held your forearm bent, and you had to bother it again.

"Why don't you take a painkiller?" he murmured. You nodded, unable to speak. He left the bathroom for less than a minute and returned with a pill and a glass of water. While you drank, he studied your face.

"Okay?" for the eighth time in ten minutes. You nodded yes and put your head on his shoulder to feel his warmth and feel his breathing. He was probably very tired, he is always sleepy after the shows. The tips of his hair tickled your face, and it smelt wonderful. Like hairspray and perfume. You realized you weren't really shaken by the altercation. It ended relatively well, you weren't scared. Rather,

"I am a bit heartbroken for her".

Yoongi chuckled ironically.

"I would've probably broken her fucking arm if I was there", he replied grumpily. "I know I would've regretted it, but still".

"I mean, I understand a little", you continued, as if not hearing him, "she is very in love with Jungkook and I wish he hadn't hurt her like that".

"You are too kind to some people".

Perhaps by 'some people' he also meant his youngest, for tonight.

He said nothing else and got to the procedure, whispering to you when you whimpered with pain. Yoongi hissed when he looked a the open wound; stitching it was impossible as skin was so tightly wrapped around this spot that it simply tore and pulled away after the cut. He had to wrap it up tightly, to make skin connect again, which meant he had to make you scream. Painkiller wouldn't help here. You rested on his chest after, panting and greatful, as his hands held your head. His big palm on the back of your head, and the violent beast of pain, still playing your bones like a guitar, had to retreat a little. The relief of being with him every day was powerful.

Someone knocked on the door. You smiled madly at the thought of round two, now, with an axe. Yoongi sighed and looked at you, asking silently if he should get the door.

"You aren't going to faint, are you?" he asked, bewildered.

"No, it just hurts".

He pressed a kiss on your forehead and went, dragging his feet, one hand in his long hair. It was too late by the time you realized that, if it's Jungkook, he might get punched as soon as the door opens. You pushed yourself off the bathtub edge and walked behind him to see. He stood, his head in the slit between the door and the frame, low voice saying something.

Then, a dispassionate, evaluating look at you, the look of a bodyguard. Do you wanna see him? Sometimes you could read his mind. Then Yoongi finally gave in and moved slowly away from the door and stood by the bed, observing. Jungkook appeared, the old version, sincere regret in his eyes, angel face concerned. Even his frame looked younger again.

"Y/N, I am so sorry", he started immediately, "I never meant for you to get hurt, I never thought it would happen. If I had known she'd do anything like that, I... I never, never wanted you to be hurt..."

He was apologizing feverishly, like a child, like he thought he only had thirty seconds before the door shuts on him, and it made your eyes water. You blinked the unwanted tears of tenderness. Yoongi was darker than night, his hands crossed on his chest. He wouldn't let it go that easily, and it scared you. It was Jungkook, his boy. The boy he protected all these years, that he watched grow, that he taught to cook. The boy he comforted when he got homesick and missed his mum, when he fell sick on tour and wasn't allowed even one day off, so he had to train with fever, and faint; the boy who Yoongi used to rage for like he raged tonight. Something changed. Yoongi was prone to tough love. The child wasn't a child anymore, and they all had to get used to it.

"It's okay", you whispered, moving quickly to Jungkook, and wrapping your good arm around his bent neck.

"It's alright, it's not your fault", you said quietly so that Yoongi wouldn't hear, but he did.

"It is", your husband barked from behind you. Jingkook sighed with an animalistic tremble, like a dog shaking off water. You knew he was looking at his hyung.

"I'm sorry", he repeated, and you tried to console him by stroking his head. The soft uncombed hair tickled your palm,

"I know you are also shaken".

"I am mortified. Are you in a lot of pain? How bad is it, really? Will you be okay?"

"Of course. It's just a big cut".

"I could see her bone", Yoongi intervened again, and you had to turn around to give him a look. He didn't budge.

"I'm sorry", Jungkook buried his face in your shoulder, "I didn't mean any of it", he said, his voice muffled.

A little more patting on the back and convincing him he was okay, and you were okay, and everything was okay, and he retreated, completely devastated. As soon as the door closed behind him, you turned to Yoongi again.

"I hate to see him sad".

He wanted to say something, but just rolled his eyes instead.

The cut left an elongated half-moon scar and became a reminder of three things:

you can throw a punch;

always protect your face;

Yoongi loved you the same way he loved his skin and bone.

#yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts x reader #bts imagine #jungkook #husband yoongi

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 days ago

Note

Fang… as the Elder Sister type (I could not be a spoiled princess little sister type 😔) how do u think Caleb would fare with that dynamic instead… younger brother Caleb……………

- @princess-okkotsu

@streimiv HAS AN ENTIRE POST ABOUT THIS THAT I MUST GO FIND AND AN ASK THEY SENT ME AND THEY ARE BOTH PERFECT

ON ANOTHER NOT I SHALL SAY… it’s not really that this part of caleb changes with an older sister. at least, the level of dedication and devotion that he shows in order to protect you as his older sister is the exact same. what changes the most imo is simply how he goes about different things and the level of subtlety in his approach

little brother caleb is eager to grow up and to make you see him as a man so he’s very proactive to grow up as quickly as he can. he’s also imo a lot more covertly manipulative in how he tries to bat away suitors and men who are interested in you. he joins the fleet young, gets his many licenses, and becomes capable and independent because he’s just that eager to have you stop treating him like a baby. you practically raised him from birth, so he knows how you see him.

but you’ve always been the woman he wants to marry. he doesn’t feel any guilt for that. who could be as capable, as cunning, as smart as his big sister?

i think he’s also a touch more temperamental and almost more violent though it doesn’t show often. once you enter the workforce he picks you up when you get drinks with co-workers, comes over to clean your house and do your laundry, and does all the same things to take care of you. he insists that none of this is bothersome to him, that he just happened to have time. even when he goes out of his way to dry clean your nice shirts or deal with some random chore. even when you know deep down he is doing everything in his power. he does it in a way that forces you to accept

“jiejie, just relax. i can handle it.”

it’s dangerous. its really really dangerous for you because i think you go through the feeling of recognizing him as a man way later than you would if he were your older brother. because caleb takes care of you without needing his hand held. and he knows you, because he’s your baby brother who absolutely adores you—who wants to repay his gratitude. so every single thing he does, he does without letting you think at all.

you don’t get a chance to worry, to feel discomfort. its done, resolved before you can even think it through

you wake one day to a clean apartment and a warm towel and fresh coffee—with caleb sitting in the kitchen making you breakfast and you’re just. embarrassed. you can’t deny it, what he’s making you feel—what he’s showing off to you.

he doesn’t take care of you like a brother. the weight of it is much more distinct. it makes you see him as a man in such a jarring, alarming way.

little brother caleb talks you down from the ledge all the time. rubs your shoulder blades. he’s more forceful because he knows you won’t cross the line. but he can be good to you, so good to you—so just let him. he’ll let you see it like appeasing your sweet baby brother just like you always do, if it makes you feel better

but you know it deep down, know it when he fucks you and knows exactly what spots to hit and how to make you feel good (so good that you wonder if he had a girlfriend to practice on, and try to ignore the discomfort the thought brings you) that you can’t hold that plausible deniability forever.

don’t worry. he knows it’ll be hard on you. his big sister burdened with everything. he knows it’ll make you break eventually but that’s why he’s there. he made himself sturdy enough just to catch you

#return to sender #incest cw #a.caleb #edit: i should add though he still does let you spoil him #but it’s more for you than anything. he will keep that a secret though

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bunbundubdub · 2 days ago

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Below The Belt - Caleb Chapter 1

At this point I should make the phrase 'this story kinda turned out far longer than planned' my catchphrase because oopsie it happened once again. Happy reading! TW: Caleb being pent up and desperate, dry humping to completion, inexperienced idiots in love, Caleb is a virgin, biting, grabbing hard enough to bruise ------------------------------

That Caleb loved you with every atom of his being was a fact that no one could deny. While his recent career change had turned him into a sharper, ruthless man when it came to his subordinates, not to mention his enemies, once your name was spoken, it was as if the sun broke through the endless clouds.

With you he was always so incredibly gentle, most of those who knew him now wouldn't believe that this puppy of a man was the same no nonsense Colonel they were used to.

And this gentleness translated into the bedroom just as much. At least for the time being. For the longest time even his biggest desire was sated just by you saying his name with that voice reserved just for him.

His heart threatened to beat out of his chest when you first gave him an embrace, something you didn't give a second thought, just so happy that he finally won you that plushie you wanted to much that you couldn't help but throw your arms around his neck and squeeze him until he could barely breathe.

He still remembered your faint scent that clung to his shirt all day.

Then you kissed him and he thought his time had come, that someone had decided to end his miserable existence and allow him to pass through the pearly gates at last. But as he opened his eyes again, there you were, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and grinning like the idiot in love that you were.

He in turn looked at you like he had just had the epiphany of a lifetime. Like he had just gotten the answers to all the questions he could ever ask and more still. Then he took his chance and kissed you back.

Where your kiss had been gentle and careful, a cautious testing of the waters so to speak, his was hungry, demanding and overwhelming all at once. His hands that had rested at his side immediately grabbed at your hips, nearly yanking you off your feet as he pulled you as close as he physically could, before tangling his left hand in your hair and descending down on your lips.

He knew his skills were more than unrefined, merely gathered by the glimpses of couples as he passed by them and some videos he refused to admit to watching. As corrupted as he had become as a person, in his eyes the love he had longed to shower you with for as long as he could remember, was as pure as fresh snow fluttering from the winter sky.

His restraint, trained and perfected over the years, shattered in an instant and you could barely say that he was kissing you, he was devouring you. Teeth would clash, his tongue was as invading as it was demanding and once he had crowded you against the wall, it was hard to tell where you ended and Caleb began.

His lips wouldn't stay idle once you had managed to get him to part for a moment to catch your breath. Feeling like he had been given full reign the moment you had kissed him, his lips would travel to your cheeks, your temples, your jaw, your neck, really just any place he could reach.

How to cover up the marks he was leaving on your collarbones and chest was the last thing on your mind as his hands began to explore as well. While yours were firmly planted on his broad chest, one daring to travel up to tangle in his dark hair, his were far more unrestrained.

While still squeezing your hip the hand on the nape of your neck steadily descended downwards, coming to rest on your behind, the fingers of his left hand digging into the muscle for a moment before the right hand joined in and he lifted you up.

Given his lack of experience and all the pent up feelings and desires he had bottled up inside him for all these years, the second he pinned your core against the wall with his hips, fingers now kneading your thighs, he was as good as gone.

You could clearly feel what your body was doing to his, the stiff bulge still contained by his pants rubbing against you harshly. For now he was too far gone in the moment to think of anything else but to finally find release with your body, in which way he didn't care too much about.

He could barely hear the moans leaving your mouth as his was still attached to your chest like a leech, as the friction from his relentless hips and the intensity of the moment brought you closer and closer as well.

Caleb reached his end with an almost violent tremble, biting harshly into the junction between your neck and shoulder, his fingers almost definitely leaving bruises from how hard he was gripping you and maybe it was this combination of pain and the pleasure of his minstrations or maybe even the desperate groan that bordered on a sob that left his throat, but he quickly pulled you over the edge with him.

He apologized profusely afterwards, mortified by how quickly he had lost control and how far he had things allowed to go, but you were having none of it. There was no trace of the confident and sometimes even cocky man that had fought his way past his gentle behaviour, just a man hopelessly overwhelmed and in love, looking for reassurence in your eyes.

Caleb refused to leave your side for even a second for the rest of the night.

#love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #tw smut #caleb x reader

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takusan-no-ai · 3 days ago

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Our Rising Star is the Mask We Wear

PAIRING: Astra x Male Reader (Platonic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: (Y/N), Phaethon’s youngest brother, isn’t a fan of Astra’s music.

After you found out your older sister and brother were not only proxies, but THE Phaethon, your distance became very apparent. You didn’t spend as much time with them anymore, nor did you continue to pretend to have the same interests; before you would pretend to be somewhat intrigued, but now there just seemed to be no point to that.

The same could be said when your sister and brother kept begging Fairy to buy them Astra Yao tickets. You didn’t hold much of an interest in her, heck you outright disliked her music. Much to the chagrin of Wise and Belle. For the most part you just minded your own business, happy to fade even more into the background. Sadly, a chaotic fried rice decided to befriend your siblings.

That is to say that Astra found herself a lovely little hideout whenever she wanted to just run away. Belle and Wise were overjoyed to say the least. But for how happy Astra was to befriend them, she was saddened by your apparent apathy towards her, among other things.

So Astra made it her mission to put a smile on your face. From finding out your interests to building a bond, she wasn’t going to give up until you would proudly say, “Yeah, I know Astra Yao. She’s my friend.” But like a shooting star, your presence was there one moment and then gone the next for hours, sometimes days, on end.

“Oh, (Y/N)! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Astra had strode up to him, a skip in her step, with no apparent intention of leaving. His room quickly became her new hangout spot; she had already made herself comfortable on his bed. (Y/N), sitting at his desk with his headphones on, sighed.

He paused the song, turning around to look at her. “Wise and Belle aren’t here right now.”

Astra pouted. “I’m not here for them! You know why I’m here—now don’t be shy~ let’s hang out!” She said while hugging his spider pillow. (Y/N) finally got up and sat down next to Astra, flopping over on his bed. He curled halfway into the fetal position, eyes staring off into the distance.

“Do you ever feel like the people you love hide secrets from you?” He asked her.

Astra’s smile faded, her face becoming more pensive. She shifted over towards (Y/N), now lying face to face with him. “Yes. And I know what her secret is.”

“So do I. But it hurts, doesn’t it? Why keep such a secret? Where was the trust?”

Astra pondered for a moment before smiling. “I’m not sure what your situation is but…I know I can trust her. Thats why it didn’t bother me. And even if she never trusted me, I’d be happy. Because the moments that we spent were…,”

“Astra-nomical?” (Y/N) jested, a small smirk finally having lifted on his face. Astra nodded in agreement. “I can’t say that I agree with that, but I’m glad that I can confirm this at least.” Astra looked at him quizzically.

“Confirm what?”

“That you’re genuine. To be honest Astra, I don’t personally like your music. And I’m always suspicious of celebrities. So I’m happy to know that your personality isn’t a facade.” He stood up and went to his personal computer. “I may have my…issues with Belle and Wise, but I still don’t want to lose them; they’re the only family I have left.”

Astra, now standing up, hugged (Y/N). “This got a little too serious so let’s change the subject. What kind of music do you like?” She watched him with starry eyes.

“I like rock music. A lot.” He answered plainly.

“Ooh! That makes sense. Perhaps I’ll sing a rock song; then you’ll surely be an Astra Yao fan!” She giggled to herself.

(Y/N) looked at her confused. “Ignoring the part about you singing rock…what makes sense? About me liking rock?”

“You’re just really emo, so it makes sense!”

“???”

- Fin

#zenless zone zero x reader #male reader #astra yao #astra yao x reader #imagine

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thethronezone · 13 hours ago

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i am loving the primarch fathers series! any chance you can come up with ideas when their child grows into their rebellious teenage phase?

When Mortarion's child starts acting up, there's no shouting. No long arguments dragging on until they are both screaming their heads off. Instead, he ignored them. Sure, he might send them to their personal chambers or give them more training exercises as punishment, but not once does he raise his voice at them. In fact, the more they rebel and talk back, the less he talks to them. Mortarion distances himself, hoping that by giving them space, they will eventually calm down on their own. He doesn't realize how abandoned they end up feeling. They think he no longer cares about them.

Fulgrim does not understand why his child is suddenly being so difficult. They used to happily follow him around, listen to his every word and did as he said without question. Things had been good. But something has changed. Where before they had sought his time, his attention, it was now as if they were now avoiding him. And when Fulgrim takes them with him to events, they looked downright frustrated, radiating a thinly veiled aura of annoyance. They don't even show him their art anymore! He likes their art. Fulgrim gets frustrated and even angry when they act up, mostly because he just does not understand why they are suddenly distancing themself from him.

So. Much. Shouting. Angron does not want to lay hands on his kid but when they talk back, when they don't listen to him, his temper flares as the nails in his head urges him to violence and the only way to release some of the pressure is to shout. And his kid shouts right back, unafraid of him. Part of Angron can't help but feel a bit proud, even as his face twists into a snarl. Because while they might argue, fight, his kid trusts him. They are not afraid of him. 'Old man' they call him and while it's disrespectful, Angron much prefers it to being called a butcherer or a monster.

It takes a while for Magnus to realize that his child is deliberately skipping lessons. One or two missed can be excused, but when a dozen? Something has to be going on. But when he questions them, they don't have an answer. At least not an answer that Magnus accepts and he tells them as such. This leads to an argument and before Magnus knows it, his child is storming away, their psychic presence practically a storm of negative feelings. And for once, Magnus is utterly clueless as to just what he did wrong.

Perturabo is furious. He's a perfectionist that demands obedience and so, when his child starts talking back and rebelling against him, it feels like a personal insult. A grievous slight. So, in retaliation, he becomes even harsher on them. Perturabo doesn't let up on them even once, every day is scheduled and they are watched by space marines and serfs alike that will immediately report to him if they step out of line. The relationship Perturabo has with his child becomes outright antagonistic at points as he does his best to break them down so he can build them up again into something proper.

Neither Alpharius nor Omegon can be described as "helicopter parents" but that doesn't mean that the child can't feel smothered all the same. Privacy, true privacy, is very rare, as both the Primarchs have the intense need to know everything. The child rebells and acts out because they feel like they constantly being watched and have no real personal freedom. Alpharius and Omegon try to give them space but they just can't let up on their old habits, which makes the kid feel even more frustrated.

Once upon a time, Lorgar's child would listen intently and with wide eyes as he told them about the divine. So eager to learn, to follow in his footsteps. But as they got older, they started to... lose interest. Lorgar only really started to worry though when they outright started to question their faith, question the existence of the holy. He tries to be patient, tries to keep their faith alive but it grates on him, frustrates him, when they refuse to listen. Still, he's determined to see this through and is confident that this is but a phase, a test for both of them and in the end they will remain a firm believer, just like him.

Horus is used to being liked, especially by those he considers family. He's his father's favorite son, the responsible older brother, the caring father. But recently, the one who used to adore him the most, his very own child, have started to act like they can't stand him. They roll their eyes when he speaks, they barely engages in conversation with him and then prefer to stay cooped up in their room rather than spend time with their father. Horus does not understand, can't relate or compare this to anything he's ever gone through. Ends up invading upon his child's space and privacy in his attempts to close this growing gap between them, something that only serves to frustrate them more.

Konrad does not handle it well. He's always been protective of his child, kept them close and in a place where he knows they'll be safe. To others, it might have seemed excessive, almost smothering, but Konrad had seen it as a necessity. When his child had been little, they accepted this as just another part of life, not knowing anything else, but now that they've started to grow up... they want more. They are no longer satisfied with the carefully gilded cage their father have built around them. Konrad, in an almost desperate effort to keep them safe, tries to limit their freedom, tries to stop them from leaving. This, of course, his child does not like. Not when they have heard about the world outside that's so close they can almost taste it. So they argue, they fight and the whole time, Konrad feels like he's losing the one good thing in his life. It makes him dig his claws in harder in a desperate attempt to keep them safe.

It's hard for Sanguinius. On one hand, he doesn't want to control his child, make them feel like he's smothering them. They are growing up and they won't be his little one forever. He needs to accept that. But on the other, Sanguinius doesn't want to let go. It's selfish of him but the thought of them leaving the nest one day, it scares him. What if he loses them? What if they leave and decide to never come back? Sanguinius has foreseen his own death but the thought of drifting away from his child scares him more than any vision of the future ever could.

Corvus notices the change immediately but rather than trying to do something about it, rather than talking with his child, he withdraws. Part of him understands that this is just a natural part of growing up but the rest of him feels, for the lack of a better word, hurt. He's always had this close bond with his child, this deep understanding, and seeing it seemingly fray and whittle away is near unbearable to him. But Corvus feels like there's nothing he can do to stop it, that it was inevitable, so he withdraws, stops spending as much time with his child, barely even talking to them. He watches them from a distance instead, waiting for them to make the first move to reconnect.

Ferrus has prepared for this moment. Kinda. If by prepared you mean 'send the kid away for proper training until they calm down' then yeah, he prepared. His kid either goes to learn under the adeptus Mechanicus or they start their space marine training. This is basically the modern equivalent to sending your kid to boarding school for a few years. It's for their own good but Ferrus won't lie and say that avoiding the problem played no part in this decision. He knows he's not good with the more emotional aspect of parenting so not trying is better than trying, right? Right?

Now, contrary to what some might assume, Rogal went through a rebellious phase when he was of similar age to his child. Granted, his 'rebellious' acts consisted of staying up late to finish his blueprints and engaging in arguments with construction workers regarding work efficiency and safety. Nonetheless, Rogal understands on some level what his child is going through which makes him more lenient. He still disciplines them when they act out but he also gives them more freedoms compared to before because he knows that, while rebellious, they are also becoming more mature and responsible.

In Vulkan's eyes, his child will always be just that; a child. HIS child. His little one. They might grow up big and strong but he can't help it, whenever he looks at them he sees the child that demanded stories before bedtime and struggled to pick up his tools. So even when they act out, even when they backtalk and act like the grouchy teenager they are, he doesn't get mad. Maybe a tad disappointed at times but he always gets over it. Endlessly patient with them but his seeming refusal to take their tantrums seriously makes his child feel frustrated, especially when the only thing they want is a reaction.

Lion thought that parenting would get easier as his child got older. Children are... messy. Nonsensical. Driven purely by emotion and whim. As hard as Lion had worked to instill discipline and order into his child from an early age, he had assumed that it would all pay off in the end. That they would act like an El'Jonson. Instead, they had gotten mouthy. Rebellious. They challenged everything he said, ignored what they didn't like, disobeyed clear orders. Yet no matter how hard Lion tried to discipline them, what punishments he dealt them for their insubordination, it never seemed to stick. If anything, it only made them worse. But Lion is just as, if not more, stubborn than them and refuses to back down. So, the fights continue.

At first Leman finds it funny. Aww, look at his lil pup, growing up and being all angsty about it. How cute! It becomes less cute when, after an intense argument, he's got them in a headlock because they tried to bite his nose off. Still, Leman has the opinion and belief that, the best way to work through all these developing feelings of theirs is through some good old character building. By that he means dropping in the Fenrisian wilds and letting them fend for themself for a while. Might seem a bit extreme to some but Leman did it when he was their age and he turned out just fine!

Jaghatai, while he doesn't take any disrespect, is actually quite alright with his kid growing into this phase. He understands that this is a crucial moment in their development, when they form an integral sense of self, and they can't do that if he coddles or hover over them. They need space. So, he mostly lets them run free, though he does set a clear line of boundaries that he expects them not to cross, make it clear that they are responsible for the consequences of their actions and that he wants them to still behave with dignity. That means no whining or brooding in the mess hall!

The moment Roboute realizes that his kid is entering their rebellious teen phase, he goes straight to mama Euten and papa Konor and asks them for advice. Because he tried to discipline his child after they ditched their lessons to spend time with their friends but all they did was repeat what he said with a mocking tone. It completely caught him off guard. Like, how does he respond to that? Roboute is so awkward around his kid during this period of time but he genuinely tries to understand them.

#warhammer 40k #konrad curze #fulgrim #lion el'jonson #perturabo #sanguinius #rogal dorn #mortarion #horus lupercal #lorgar aurelian #jaghatai khan #magnus #corvus corax #vulkan #roboute guilliman #angron #leman russ #ferrus manus #alpharius omegon

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snugglesquiggle · 2 days ago

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why aren't you reading seek?

but for real though, today's chapter was so damn good it motivated me to at least try to write recommendation. i need more people to read it - someone who follows me has got to be willing to give it a try

seek is an original science fiction story set in the radically distant future, updating roughly every week (or lately, closer to every two)

the world is barely recognizable, practically post-scarcity and full of cybernetic modification and AI

in fact, one of the pov characters is one such AI, and the other is so heavily modded i've seen one person derisively call her a cyberfox. this hardly scratched the surface of what's interesting about them and their situation, but this is just a quick recommendation

you can read the first chapter here: https://seekwebserial.wordpress.com/2024/10/18/0-1-0-hack/

i'll admit, the start can be a bit shaky (this whole "guy wakes up in a hostile high-tech facility with no memory of what's going on" setup is definitely not the most inspired of starts, and this is all the more dubious when it's so far still unclear what role he'll play in the long run direction of the story)

furthermore, the structure of Seek is ambitious - and questionable in a way that strains against the foremost issue of a rotating pov stories. there are three perspective characters, each essentially living in entirely different worlds and "eras".

as a result, it feels at times like reading three different novels interleaved, with little tying them together. now, a sense of interconnection has begun to emerge, a dozen odd chapters down the line, but yeah

if you stick with it, though? there's incredible payoff, several intensely satisfying character moments in a fascintating world futuristic to the point of becoming alien

the blurb goes:

Despite our best efforts, few survived faster than light travel. None survived the trip back. So we took a different approach altogether. We started bringing the universe to us. There’s no point. What hasn’t changed in the last four hundred years won’t change in our lifetimes. There’s no point. We’ve solved it. Everything humanity needs, it has. We’ve reached the finish line. There’s no point. Turn off the lights, close your eyes, and cover your ears, nightmares come manifest. Three storylines from three individuals, worlds and eras apart.

as i try to write this recommendation, i'm finding myself trying to summarize all the cool things it does - how society and culture is reshaped by this abundance of resources and automation, and the gross proliferation of advertisement and surveillance that results. or talk about the emphasis the cybernetic augmented place on the fidelity of their mods. but at a point it feels like i'm just doing a worse job of telling the story

so i think the one thing i'd point to as my favorite part of Seek is its portrayal of the integrated "onboard" AI that quickly become more widespread over the course of the story.

there's such a creativity and attention to specificity when it comes to portraying how different people relate to their onboards, down to the formatting flourishes the text uses to set off and differentiate scenes where several different intelligence conversing

but i digress

it isn't just the worldbuilding that gets me, but the character writing, and even the plot has started to heat up - as i said, the reason why i'm writing this now is because the newest chapter (2.6.w) is easily the best in the serial

i have further thoughts on its painstaking tension, the suffocating powerlessness on multiple levels but they don't exactly mean much if you aren't caught up

so yeah. i love this story and i'm hoping for it to garner more readers

if i have to end off with one last piece of bait - we have one protag become taylor swift times a thousand and the other become a terrorist. things get crazy

get in here!

#my thoughts #seek #seekblr #wildbow #scifi #ai #cybernetics #recommendation #webfiction

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crowsofdarkness · 2 days ago

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Fallen: Chapter Three

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fallen Angel! Female Reader.

Content Warnings: language, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: The new Avengers recruit has many secrets, one of which Bucky is desperate to discover.

Authors Note: This is a little AU with Bucky! It will have six chapters! Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @starfly-nicole @bookofriverr @civilbucky

“Faster!”

“Harder!”

“Come on, you can do better than that!”

Sweat dripped from my forehead into my mouth, the salty bitterness stinging my tongue, and I let out deep breaths while trying to calm my beating heart. With a quick duck, I missed the oncoming punch, landing my own into the hard chest in front of me, not holding back my strength.

With a smile to his face, he placed a hand on his chest. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

I couldn’t help but snicker. “Please, don’t act like that actually hurt Captain America.”

Steve laughed now and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just glad that you’re not pulling your punches anymore.”

Sensing a quick break in our training, I allowed myself to take a large drink of water, my heart rate coming down fast.

“I don’t think you would allow another training session to continue like the first three,” I spoke honestly.

“We both know what you’re capable of, Y/N. You don’t need to hide it from me; anything.”

With his words, I stared Steve straight in the eyes, knowing exactly what he meant. I was hiding a big part of me from him, from everyone, only because I didn’t want the others around the compound to witness it.

“I’m already the new kid around here. The last thing I need to be called is the freak,” I said.

Steve sighed with his hands low on his hips. “No one thinks that.”

“Really?” My brow raised while I held up my hand, fire spreading to the tips. “All I have to do is think about it and fire is in my hands.”

With a tight fist now, the flames evaporated. “Don’t even get me started on the other thing.”

Within the last few weeks, Steve had taken the job of training me, preparing me for becoming the newest member of the Avengers. At first I was very shut off about the whole idea but knew that if I wanted to continue having a place to live, I needed to at least try.

Steve was very comforting from the start, allowing me time to warm up being around him, but as time went on he could immediately tell I was holding back. We both knew what power and strength I possessed but I was afraid of letting it be shown on full display. Tony and him had seen it one time but it was brief; they, along with others, didn’t see to the full extent of what I was capable of.

An immense amount of pain spread throughout my spine and with a painful hiss, I grasped for the closest thing next to me. Which happened to be Steve’s arm.

My powerful grip meant nothing to his super strength, my nails digging into his skin didn’t cause him to flinch an ounce.

“When was the last time you let them out?” Steve wondered once the pain had subsided.

“Not since you captured me,” I admitted.

“No one is going to look at you differently, Y/N,” Steve reassured.

“So what? I’m supposed to walk around the compound with my wings on full display?” I shrugged.

“Even if it’s for a few seconds when no one is around. Keeping them in has caused you pain, Y/N. Is it even worth it?”

“To stay alive, you fucking bet.” I nodded.

Steve sighed, knowing no matter what he said that I wouldn’t change my mind.

I used to be so strong before my sister was murdered. I would walk around with my wings spread wide, proud of the woman I had become over the centuries but now, it was different.

As far as I knew, I was the last of my kin that fell centuries ago and knowing that I had a target on my head for the things on my back, I kept them hidden now. There was word on the street that Ivan was looking for me, wanting to skin my wings from me for a chunk of change. But the pain had become almost unbearable and I didn’t know what it could do if I continued to keep them hidden.

“Same time tomorrow?” I questioned, changing the subject.

Steve let out a breath and ran a hand over his face, the stubble on his chin no doubt tickling his palm. “I’m actually headed out on a mission for the next week so you’ll continue your daily training with someone else.”

My brows knitted together. “Who?”

He motioned behind me. “Speak of the devil.”

Turning on my heels, my heart jumped in my throat when I saw who my new trainer was going to be. He leaned slightly against the entryway of the room, arms crossed over his chest. The vibranium arm shone bright in the light.

“Hey Buck. I was telling Y/N that you’re going to be taking over for me for the next few sessions.” Steve spoke towards Bucky.

Bucky, who was now standing a few feet in front of me, gave Steve a nod while sending a small smile my way.

I couldn’t look him in his eyes, knowing what I know about our past. If he ever found out that I was sent to kill him all those years ago, I don’t think he would smile like that towards me.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” I turned my attention towards Steve.

“Don’t hold your punches with Bucky. He can handle anything you throw at him,” Steve reassured me.

“Somehow I doubt that,” I muttered to myself, quickly giving them a small wave before leaving them to themselves.

The nighttime cold wrapped around me as I stood on the rooftop of the compound letting the soft noises of the crickets and soft waves of the water behind the building ease my mind. Steve's words from earlier kept rattling around in my head.

Let them out for a few minutes.

The choice weighed heavy on my shoulders, not knowing if it was the best one. The pain had become almost too much to handle, bringing me to my knees just a few moments ago. No one knew I was up here on the roof so no one would be able to see them so what could be the harm?

Letting out a deep breath, I rolled back my shoulders and felt an almost euphoric feeling fill my veins when the wings spread wide around me. A few dead feathers fell around my feet and I cringed, knowing that it was from keeping them inside for a long period of time.

They stretched far out and I did the same with my arms, fire spreading to the tips, and in those few moments I felt like myself again. Everything that was causing worries within me had vanished with this quiet solace.

Steve had become a close friend of mine here, no one else bothered to spend even a minute to get to know me only because of these things on my back. There were countless lores of my kind, mostly evil and vile, so of course they wanted nothing to do with me. My kind was known for killing anyone in our way to get what we wanted or needed. We took control of the innocent in order to get the wealth that we had for centuries.

However, with being the last of my kin on Earth, none of that mattered to me. I could go anywhere in the world with the simple flap of my wings, but I chose to stay here. I chose to try and better myself and make up for the past choices, hoping to right my wrongs. I also chose to stay here because I needed to make amends to one person who had no idea of what I could have done to him.

Bucky wanted to get to know me because we shared the same past; being used as weapons for Hydra. I couldn’t allow myself to get close to him because I knew that once he did find out I was sent to kill him, the friendship he wanted would be nonexistent.

Which is why the nerves were high for our training sessions. If there was any way that we would become close, it would be during these sessions.

With a quick sigh, I brought my wings back, the skin of my shoulder blades melting together and once again I was normal as the people beneath my feet.

Well, almost normal.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x fallen angel reader #fallen bucky barnes

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skay-ali · 19 hours ago

Text

The Magician and the princess

Live again. Repeat everything.

A new you.

That was supposed to happen... you had your isekai moment, you ended up in a new world, you thought you would live an adventure with what this new world gave you, a life where you would give the least of yourself, one full of small adventures and laziness.

The fewer things you do the better, just you in a nice place lying down, the grass of some meadow, the branch of a large tree even in the sand of a beach.

You couldn't fulfill your dream, unfortunately you had something else more important to do.

You were a noble woman in this world... your duties were not the problem.

You had magic, you didn't have a big goal of being the best magician or anything like that.

There was an internal war in your family, you didn't really care about that either.

There was a girl, the daughter of the king or the emperor, you don't remember her title well, only the little girl.

How can we not remember that girl, little Philomel, the false princess... A repetitive story of royalty, with many questionable parts.

But you felt affection for the girl, to think that since she found that book her life changed, she was no longer the spoiled and spoiled girl who only wanted her father to see her, to tell her that he really loved her, you saw her change, to be a new girl terrified of her future, who lived each of her days with anguish hoping that they would not kill her, a strategist and actress by obligation, by survival.

You cried, in fact you became depressed when reading her story, much more knowing that not even her real parents felt anything for her, in the end the girl settled and accepted that she would not have love from her family.

And yet she continued in that place, where her childhood ended abruptly, only to save a false father who never tried to be her father when she was a child, and the real protagonist.

Well Philomel made his decisions, many at the expense of a new future and his happiness, for people who were nothing.

And here you go, a promising castle mage.

Ready to become her friend... or something like that, you were much older than her and your feelings were to save her from her agony, to be what she never had.

A mother or an older sister, you didn't care what she chose, you just wanted to be with her, to be her rock as she goes through her entire stormy future.

"Princess Philomel" you bowed giving him a bow.

You smiled kindly and acted elegantly, you practiced it non-stop.

You had to behave in a good way, earn his trust, he was like a kitten... scared and distrustful, you had to be careful. You were still afraid, if he didn't like you or saw you as a threat, he would never approach you, your whole plan would fail.

Plans don't always go as expected, the princess just bowed and greeted before continuing on her way.

You carefully noticed her actions, she did not have the behavior of a girl, the idea that she was following the rules and regulations of nobility was absurd, her behavior was always that of a lively, naughty and even spoiled girl... that was until she found the book, where everything changed, the childish Philomel became extinct.

That Philomel acted elegantly but still avoided all the nobles at the small party was a sign that he had already started collecting allies or some of his cards to survive.

You were short of ideas, getting his attention just trying to talk didn't work, and boy did you try.

What are you supposed to do now? Try to be his teacher? That will only serve to get you closer, he could very well see you as a possible spy, or as a small person who appreciates, as happened with his butler/housekeeper, you don't remember well what his role really was.

Being his servant was also an option, but it would be suspicious for a promising mage to leave her job to be a lady-in-waiting.

There were thousands of titles and roles that you could take, even so there were risks, consequences if you took a role that was not the right one.

You attend more parties at the palace, mainly the smaller ones that were for the princess.

It was a nightmare, you couldn't get along socially with the noble ladies and ladies, the anxiety that time was passing, with you not being able to get close to the princess, as you are supposed to even be her friend.

Even the dresses enchanted with magic failed to attract their attention, you tried so hard that you even managed to make the fabric take on the appearance of fairy wings, technically you created a fake but legal and beautiful fabric.

At least you managed to attract the attention of the other ladies, who began to follow you non-stop and create some fame for you.

"What a nuisance"

"At this rate I won't achieve anything"

The desperation was high, your body was beginning to feel the consequences.

You seriously wanted to help Philomel, it was silly, absurd, idiotic but if you were inside this world, faced with the entire plot that was developing, you couldn't sit idly by.

It was a matter of luck, as a way to release part of your stress you created animals with your magic, they were just their silhouettes, like drawings, surrounded by a glow, they could move, they came to life, some stayed around you and others disappeared, but somehow a cat figure that had disappeared among nature, upon its return brought something with it, rather someone, a little lady, the princess.

You watched her in silence, as she was surrounded by all the small animals that you created, now you only saw a happy girl and without worries, she played with the small animals, these creatures strutted around her, eagerly waiting for the girl to look at them, they exploded with ecstasy when she caressed them.

"I see you're having fun, princess."

Your figure posed in front of the girl who was surrounded by your creations.

You gave him a smile when you spoke to him.

"and you guys, you know it's annoying when you get lost and even more so when you cause problems" you pointed at the adorable looking creatures, you looked at them with fake anger.

You were caught off guard to see how the animals hid behind the princess in fear.

Seriously, they saw you as a monster even though you created them with so much love and affection, ppfff child, raise them with love and they will always repay you with a stab in the back.

"Because they run away from their problems and the worst they hide behind the princess, you are... impossible" you snorted when you saw the behavior of your creations, you clenched your fist, you couldn't even think about punishing them, they were too adorable for a punishment, maybe that's why they always get into mischief, they know that they will never be truly punished and that you will fix their mistakes.

You heard the small laugh of a child, when you took your eyes off your little ones, you were able to capture how little Philomel was having fun with the situation she had in front of her.

This time he didn't fake a smile or pretend that everything was fine, he was actually happy and things in this small place in the castle were calm, without danger and pressure.

You applauded when you came up with an idea, it was risky but it was worth trying.

"Oh, since we're here with your new friend, how about we invite her to eat with us at a nice picnic?"

All your little creations jumped with excitement, you moved your hands and thought about what you wanted, with a small yellow glow hundreds of plates appeared on a tablecloth and a basket in the middle, they slowly fell to the floor.

The little creatures pushed the princess who watched your little trick in amazement.

You sat elegantly on the floor and looked at the princess.

You couldn't help but smile, you finally managed to stay close to her for more than 5 minutes without her moving away.

"What do you say, princess, you would make us very happy with your presence at our little picnic" you looked at her, hoping that she would accept.

You saw how your little ones made sad faces so that the little girl could see them.

"I..."

"Don't worry princess it will be a secret" you put a finger on your lips

"besides I have many delicious desserts, some are unknown in this kingdom" it was exhausting for you to go to different places to look for many unknown desserts, but you did everything to be able to get closer to Philomel.

You saw how the girl looked at you with skepticism, suspicious of your intentions, she was still a child and was already careful with her surroundings.

"Ahhhh but don't feel pressured, I'm not a threat, just a mage bored with her job in the palace"

"maybe another day" nervously you tried to sound less suspicious to the princess.

You quickly took a cupcake decorated with icing and a jelly bean that looked like a sphere that reflected the galaxy inside.

They turned out pretty on you, nothing better than a sweet to relieve sadness.

You were taken by surprise when the girl sat on the big blanket next to all the little animals made with magic.

You took another cupcake and held it out to him.

His hand hesitated for a second before taking the cupcake.

Well your mission may not advance much but at least you had a great picnic with little Philomel.

Step by step you continued with the girl, it was a common thing for the two of you to have picnics in the afternoons.

As you observed, she was still surrounded by those despicable people who pretended to love her, when in reality they despised her.

Poor girl, finding out that the only people who had been by her side for as long as she could remember actually had contempt for her was very sad.

But you couldn't interfere, that would raise suspicions, not only from Phil but also from his fake father.

Now you could only exchange conversations while drinking tea and eating desserts.

Slowly you got closer to the girl, it took you by surprise, when you were reading a book for the little princess and your little magic creations, you felt her lying on your legs with the little animals, all entertained by the words that came out of your mouth.

She was such a sweet girl, the little girl's action did not go unnoticed by you, when she caressed all the little animals made with magic, she took turns with each one and placed them on her stomach or her dress, she made sure that everyone had their moment, you even saw her worried about each little animal.

It was a slow day, the large garden was calm, without any visitors. Well except for you and Philmonel.

The girl had asked you to come today in the afternoon, due to the schedule that the princess had, you always expected her to tell you what day and what time she would come to the garden for her meetings, the short and few meetings that happened every week, turned into long and many meetings, when they knew each other more.

"Tell me Phil, have you ever heard of fairy godmothers?"

You were delicately braiding the girl's hair, as well as tangled flowers in her hair.

"uh.. I think I read about them in a book" she didn't pay much attention to you, you saw her concentrating on making tiny flower crowns and placing them on the heads of the little magical animals.

You saw the mini bear trying to imitate Phil's actions, one of the kittens modeling the crown on his head with great grace in front of the other animals, the rabbits lying with their crowns on the girl's lap, one of the dogs bringing flowers to the girl, the girl taking them with a smile to continue building more crowns.

"And if I told you that you exist" you continued insisting.

"uhh.... that would be interesting" there was her seriousness and lack of enthusiasm, you didn't blame her now she was trying to be a good girl so as not to bother anyone and survive.

"Come on, think more about that" you continued to insist, it was a calm day, which meant that you were very far from the main plot, it was a great opportunity to intervene without getting into trouble.

"Fairies grant wishes, don't they? Have you ever thought about a wish that you long for so deeply?"

You were direct, as much as you could, what child wouldn't want a wish without limits? Even with the role of princess, it's not that easy to be happy or get everything you want, there were limits, but when your position inside the castle was complicated, it's the same as walking on thousands of fragile eggshells that could get you in trouble if you break them a little.

Even for this girl full of fear and anxiety, having a wish could be a great light in her life.

Would she ask to flee from this place and never be found? Would she wish she were someone else? Some power or ability to help her survive.

She would even be so desperate that she would beg for her executioner or the girl who would end her life to be killed? No, she would not ask for someone's death.

Although she had her selfish actions, she cares about others.

"a wish..." the little girl was thoughtful with that question.

You smiled bitterly when you saw her so thoughtful, for her a wish was a miracle... she wasn't thinking about wealth, jewelry or dresses, she wasn't thinking about something to have fun with, but rather a wish calculated for her survival plan.

You wanted to get closer to Philomel, for her to trust you, to become her confidant, to take her away from this castle so she could have a moment of happiness, even if you changed the story, you would go wherever she asked you...

"You know what I would ask for" you brought the girl out of her thoughts when you spoke.

"a man, who is a few years older, very handsome, with a good complexion, who is kind" you began to ramble with some qualities of your perfect boy very excited.

"ah he has to be tall, I wouldn't care if he weren't a genius, I would take care of everything" you said sonorously.

"...." you only received a judging look from the girl, you felt like an alien or a weirdo.

"Come on, don't make that face" you pressed a finger on the girl's cheek, trying to make fun of her.

"at some point you will also dream and long for love."

"I don't believe it... I reject that thought" the girl spoke hurriedly, perhaps? I was embarrassed.

"Is that so? You don't have a cute boy hiding there" you continued provoking the girl.

Your fingers tangled in the small strands of hair that stood out in Phil's hairstyle, you twisted a finger over each strand giving it a loop shape.

"No!, of course not" you saw how he puffed out his cheeks angrily as he protested, wow he didn't even try to maintain his composure.

Maybe romance was still a taboo subject for the girl.

"If you find a boy... will you leave?" His question caught you off guard.

Love, such a complex word, you couldn't experience it well in your old life.... you have no memory of it, everything was blurry if you searched your mind about romance and couples.

You assume your life sucked that way so your mind had nothing.

"No, because I would do something like that, I will stay by your side and that man better do it too" faithful to your promise you ignored the distractions, friends before boys.

Of course you and Phil weren't friends yet, but you ignored that too.

"But if he doesn't want that, if he comes to hate that idea..."

Was I worried about you leaving? Ah, that was a joy for you, you were moving forward.

Today you would celebrate with a glass of wine and some desserts.

"So he's not the one Phil" your hands caressed the girl's head.

Hearing that was a relief for Philomel, just thinking about that possibility caused her worry, you came out of nowhere and bombarded her a lot with your presence, you were intrusive and annoying... but seeing your smile, your kind words, they cut her off, she wanted to believe in you, she let her guard down every time they saw each other, until you became a constant in her life. It was suspicious, I knew it well, you never appeared in the book, you were not even mentioned.

An unknown presence, possibly from another world, your strange behavior was a sign of that.

You never asked him for anything, you didn't even try to benefit from his friendship, you were the one who offered him many things, even if they sounded impossible or crazy.

You made her feel appreciated, your small gestures like desserts along with picnic parties, the conversations you had even if they were absurd, you listened to her, you actually did! You played along many times, you always smiled lovingly at her, your hands were warm, every time you landed on her head or her face, even when you gave her your hands.

You were very warm, you were like a light, you made her feel safe, loved and appreciated. Is this how a family should feel? If that was the case, he hoped he would always feel it, even if he was selfish, he wanted you to never leave his side.

#yandere platonic #philomel #philomel the fake #yandere manwha #yandere manhwa x reader

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axeltr342 · 3 days ago

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It seems that eltingville artists can never catch a break

Well if it was just this I wouldn't have made a post (or at least not in English), so what I will talk about in this post is about traits of this user that this fandom often doesn't consider to be a real possibility.

This starts by looking at the confession they admitted to do

At first glance it doesn't seem to be anything wrong, but when you consider how this user views both Evan Dorkin and the message The Eltingville Club represents, it starts to change, because this user not only gets mad at the mere sight of someone calling Bill or Josh a bad person and states that the people that follows with the comic's message are "sheeps", but they also openly despises Evan Dorkin, insinuating, among various things, that he should be considered a lolcow (which means a person with online presence whose existence is pathetic and laughable) and a creative dead weight.

The origin of said hate is pretty much summarized in this comment which is part of a serious analysis they made about the Eltingville Club.

As you can see the reasons are very petty, being either completely false statements (Evan said multiple times that he actually likes to answer questions and fanart, I don't know what the "doing it for attention" even means lol), over exaggerations or just assumptions. The third paragraph becomes borderline hilarious when you take into account what they say just after:

As they not only state that Evan's failure was "deserved" but just for the sake of hating on him they are also celebrating the decision that killed the possibility of the franchise being the way they wanted it to be, as Evan stated that he had a good bunch of stories planned for them that would also flesh out the secondary characters that he liked (such as Jane and Willoughby).

And yes, Evan Dorkin says that you can freely criticize him, obviously, but that doesn't justify making your entire online presence about it and allow said hate to shape the way you interact with the media and fandom.

The irony of this situation, related to the very first image I showed you in this post, is that when a similar situation happened about a year ago in which someone was also blatantly criticizing how people drew josh, Evan stood up to support the artists and called out their wrong attitude, with this actual situation showcasing that the extreme of going against the message and the author just makes an example of why the message exists in the first place:

The point is that you shouldn't be naive about these kinds of people existing in the fandom just based on the nature of the franchise. It is not uncommon in the fandom to see people disgusted at how artists make ocs, people throwing tantrums at the slightest sight of someone stating that some attribute or action of the characters resembles those of a bad person, people shitting at how others perceive the characters (when they are not doing anything bad about them), people justifying the characters or justifying being like them, people hating on Evan Dorkin and the comic's message, with all of these getting decent support, but if someone dares to points out these, people treat them like a schizo and say that those things never happen, without even considering that those things can snowball and lead into hatred for either the franchise, the author or the fandom.

PD: You artists don't let messages like the first one I showcased affect you, you are still learning and adapting, be proud of your efforts and how far you have gone.

#the eltingville club #eltingville club #welcome to eltingville #eltingville #josh levy

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nickistuffs · 2 days ago

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A Reminder to Breathe

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: After pushing themselves to the brink of exhaustion with work, Y/N finds an unwavering source of comfort in Harry

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None. Fluff slight angst.

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there

...

Everything felt overwhelming, chaotic, and messed up. The weight of it all pressed down on you, and all you craved was his presence—his soft voice to soothe you. But no, here you were, at work, running yet another onsite project.

Today had been a whirlwind. You’d spent hours running around town with one of your contractors, picking up materials for a clothing store your client was planning to open. It was a job you loved, but exhaustion always crept in. From overseeing your team’s work to managing quality control, it seemed like there was never an end.

Then the client arrived to check on the progress.

“Hey, Y/N! How’s everything going?” he greeted with a smile, eager for an update.

“All is going well,” you replied, trying to keep the exhaustion out of your voice. “We’re on schedule and already planning the next steps to avoid any confusion.”

As you wrapped up your conversation with the builders, he wandered over to a wall where your plans were laid out, studying every detail of the room’s design. When he spoke, his tone was casual but firm.

“Y/N, is this what you initially planned for this section of the room?”

You walked over, confirming his observation. “Yup. I’m actually really excited about this part. That’s why I wanted to be here in person to give specific directions.”

He studied the layout for a moment before his eyes flicked back to you. “Well, I don’t think it’s popping like I imagined. Can you change it?”

Your heart sank. The audacity of this guy to change everything with the snap of his fingers. Your blood boiled as you held your ground.

“Well,” you began, keeping your voice steady, “it’s easier said than done. We’re already behind schedule from the last round of revisions. And honestly, the deadline you set won’t align with the store opening unless we stick to the original plan.”

You met his gaze, frustration creeping into your expression as you tried to make him see reason.

“I’m your client, Y/N,” he snapped, his tone growing colder. “I’m paying you, and people keep saying you’re the best. So, I expect new plans for this section in four days. Got it?”

With that, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, fuming.

Henry, your contractor, noticed your irritation and patted your back in a supportive gesture. “You do what you need to do, Y/N. I’ll start on whatever can be done now. We’ll finish this and have another meeting afterwards.”

You nodded but couldn’t shake the frustration. As much as you loved your work, dealing with clients like this always felt like a battle. Gathering your things, you left the site, knowing you had a long night ahead. At least you could take some time to breathe before diving back into the chaos.

Two days had passed, and you had barely stopped working. It was nonstop, relentless. Sketching, adjusting, planning, and coordinating—your life had become a blur of blueprints and emails. You weren’t even sure when you last ate a proper meal. The only thing you knew for certain was that your body ached, your head pounded, and sleep had become a distant luxury.

You barely had time to check your phone, and it wasn’t until you glanced at it, seeing the unread messages, that guilt settled in. You hadn’t replied to Harry.

Harry, who always checked in. Harry, who had probably noticed your silence by now.

At that very moment, Harry was at Felice’s, ordering lunch for both of you, worry evident on his face.

“Hey, Harry, how’s Y/N?” Felice asked, handing over the order.

“I actually don’t know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “We haven’t been in touch for two days, so I’m worried.”

Felice frowned, glancing toward the kitchen. “That’s not like them.”

Harry sighed, picking up the bags. “Yeah. I know they’re busy, but… I don’t know. I just hope they’re okay.”

With that, he left, heading straight to your place, determined to check-in. Because if you weren’t going to take care of yourself, then he would.

Harry knocked on the door of your workshop, the sound cutting through the quiet hum of your overworked computer. You blinked, your bloodshot eyes straining from hours of staring at the screen. Your glasses had slid down your nose, and your hair was shoved into a messy bun, strands falling loosely around your face. The weight of exhaustion pressed heavily on your shoulders, but the knock startled you enough to jolt upright.

When you opened the door, you were met with Harry’s concerned gaze. His eyes swept over you, taking in your disheveled state, and his brows furrowed.

“Y/N…” he said softly, stepping inside before you could protest.

“You—what are you doing here?” you stammered, genuinely surprised by his presence.

Harry sighed, lifting the bag of food. “You haven’t answered me in two days. Felice is worried. I’m worried. And looking at you now, I was right to be.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling exposed. You hadn’t realized how bad you looked until you saw the concern written all over his face. He set the food down on your cluttered desk and reached out, gently squeezing your shoulder.

“Come on,” he said. “Eat first. Then we’ll talk.”

And for the first time in days, you let yourself breathe.

After finishing your food, you felt energy returning to your body, the warmth of a real meal helping to shake off some of the exhaustion. Instinctively, you pushed your chair back, ready to dive back into work.

But Harry’s hand was on your wrist before you could stand, stopping you.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, his voice laced with concern. “You’re working yourself to the bone. Did you sleep here?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his sharp gaze told you he already knew the answer. The messy pile of blankets in the corner, the half-empty coffee cups littering your desk—it was obvious.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought.”

His disappointment stung more than any lecture. You wanted to argue, to tell him you were fine, that you had deadlines to meet. But the exhaustion settled deep in your bones, and for once, you didn’t have the energy to fight him.

“Come on,” he said, tugging you gently to your feet. “You need sleep, not another round of revisions.”

You hesitated, looking at your screen, but Harry squeezed your hand. “Please, Y/N.”

And somehow, that was enough to make you nod, letting him lead you away from your desk and toward the rest you desperately needed.

...

Harry drove you back home, the soft hum of the car’s engine lulling you into much-needed rest. The moment your head rested against the window, exhaustion took over, and you drifted off into a deep sleep. Harry glanced at you briefly, his expression softening. You had pushed yourself too hard, and he wasn’t going to let you do it alone anymore.

As he pulled up to your place, he gently shook your shoulder. “Y/N, we’re here.”

You stirred, eyes heavy with sleep. He smiled slightly. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” As you stepped into your apartment, the weight of exhaustion hit you like a wave. Without a word, you shuffled straight to the bathroom, desperate to wash away the stress of the past few days. The warm water felt like a small mercy, soothing the tension in your muscles as you changed into your softest pyjamas.

Meanwhile, Harry moved around your kitchen with quiet efficiency. He set a kettle on the stove, pulling out your favorite tea blend and preparing a mug. As the water heated, he glanced toward the bathroom door, listening for any signs of movement. His worry hadn’t faded—not entirely—but at least you were home, taking care of yourself, even if it was just for a moment.

When you emerged, looking slightly more refreshed but still utterly drained, Harry held out the steaming cup. "Drink this," he said gently. "Then we’ll talk about getting you some real rest."

You took a slow sip of your tea, the warmth spreading through your chest as you settled onto your bed. The familiar comfort of your mattress made you realize just how much you had missed it. Your body ached in relief, sinking into the softness, but before you could relax completely, Harry sat beside you, his expression unreadable.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Y/N… I'm disappointed in you. You didn’t reach back to me in two days. Two days. Do you know how worried I was?"

His voice wasn’t harsh, but the weight of his concern settled heavily between you. You stared down at your tea, guilt creeping up your spine. You hadn’t meant to shut him out—it just happened, lost in the whirlwind of work. But looking at him now, at the way his brows furrowed and his jaw tensed, you knew you had to say something.

"I'm sorry, I know... I just had to finish it," you mumbled, the words spilling out in a tired rush. "My client really laid it on thick, saying that I was ‘the best’ and that I should do whatever I needed to do. I didn’t want to let them down."

You rambled, voice cracking slightly from exhaustion. You weren’t even sure if you were making sense anymore, but the need to justify yourself clawed at your chest. Harry sighed, his gaze unwavering as he studied you. He knew you loved your work, knew how much passion you poured into every project—but he didn’t think you would go this far. That you would sacrifice your own well-being for it.

He shook his head, his voice softer now. "Y/N… being the best doesn't mean running yourself into the ground." That's when the waterworks started. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as the weight of exhaustion, pressure, and the looming deadline finally broke through. A choked sob escaped your lips, and you buried your face in your hands, overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I know I need to work on this—on asking for help instead of trying to do everything alone."

Harry didn’t hesitate. He immediately pulled you into a firm, reassuring hug, his warmth grounding you as he gently rubbed your back. "You're not alone, Y/N. You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. I’m here, always."

His words broke something in you, and you clung to him, letting yourself feel everything you had been holding in for too long.

You sniffled against his shirt, his steady presence grounding you as exhaustion seeped deeper into your bones. "Thank you for looking out for me, Harry," you murmured, voice thick with emotion.

He pressed a reassuring hand against your back, his touch warm and familiar. "Lie down, Y/N. You need to rest."

You nodded, too drained to argue, and let yourself sink into the comfort of your bed. Just as you were about to close your eyes, Harry hesitated before speaking, his voice softer this time. "Can I stay? Just for tonight?"

You blinked up at him, surprised but comforted by the thought. "You don’t have to—"

"I want to," he interrupted gently. "I just want to make sure you’re okay."

A small, grateful smile formed on your lips as you shifted, making space for him. "Okay. Stay."

Harry settled in beside you, the quiet of the room wrapping around you both like a cocoon.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. It painted golden streaks across the sheets, illuminating the quiet intimacy of the space. Harry stirred first, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he registered the familiar weight pressed against him—the quiet rise and fall of your breath against his chest. It took a moment for reality to settle in—he was still in your apartment, still in your bed, and still holding you close.

His arms were wrapped around you protectively, your body curled into his warmth, and he found himself reluctant to move. He had been in relationships before, had woken up next to others, but this—this was different. There was no rush to slip away, no lingering regret or fleeting connection. With you, it felt natural. Easy. Like he belonged here.

His gaze flickered to your sleeping face, the exhaustion still evident in the delicate creases around your eyes. He thought back to the past few days, to the way you had pushed yourself beyond reason. He saw you pour every ounce of yourself into your work, into the people you cared about, until there was hardly anything left for yourself. It was a pattern he knew all too well too, and one that made his heart ache in ways he never expected. And yet, despite everything, here you were—peaceful, safe, finally resting.

Harry exhaled softly, running a hand through his unruly hair, the strands falling messily over his forehead. He never imagined he’d feel this way—that he’d want to take care of someone as much as he wanted to take care of you. The thought sent warmth flooding through his chest, an unfamiliar yet welcome sensation. He had always been the one to keep his heart guarded, to tread carefully in matters of love, but with you… there was no fear, no hesitation. Just certainty.

His fingers traced lazy circles over your back, reveling in the way you instinctively nuzzled closer, seeking him even in sleep. He smiled, something soft and tender curling at the edges of his lips. He wanted to memorize everything about this moment—the way the sunlight framed your features, the way your fingers clung lightly to his shirt, the way your presence alone filled every empty space inside him.

Carefully, he shifted just enough to press a lingering kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin as if sealing an unspoken promise. He knew the world would call you both back soon, that the quiet sanctuary of the morning wouldn’t last forever. But for now, he let himself sink into the comfort of you, of this shared warmth, of the undeniable truth settling in his chest.

He wanted to be here for all of it—the bad, the good, in every way—just be with you.

...

Take your time lovelies. <3

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